Absolutely Far Fetched The Institute Would Be Heard Of In Nv But Guess What This Is My Story And I'm Sticking To It Officer - Blog Posts

Six has been traveling for months on end after she sets sight on the East. Yes Man's updated system caught intel of a new kind of problem beginning to spread quicker than radiation poisoning; robotic creations of some sort making real people disappear, only to play pretend in their place. The Institute, some fella in Kansas shared, was getting closer everyday. As a result, every incident allowed the blame to be passed onto an invisible boogeyman, and in true Six fashion, the Courier took it upon herself to get answers, even if she didn't need to be asking questions in the first place.

This place is a patriot's wet dream, she thinks. A crumbling cesspool of something that once was. One nation under god, something something something, liberty and justice. Six could scoff to herself at the thought as there is no such thing to be found in the wastes anymore, if ever a thing existed at all.

Perhaps she's looking for it in the wrong places. With a pistol tucked into her belt and a rifle in her hands, aimed and at the ready, she takes steady shots at the green mutants that never seem to go down without a fight. Boone always insisted she was too impulsive, you can never sit still long enough, and that it was going to be the death of her. But Six needs the rush like a junkie needs Jet.

Sometime amid the ambush, a dog rushes to her aid, and it's not until the last of the group lets out an unsettling moan with a thud and a voice calls out that she realizes the dog wasn't helping her at all.

"I'm alright. Thanks." A sense of relief washes over the Courier at the sight of someone seemingly unrough around the edges, but she's no fool, which is why she doesn't bother to remove her Ranger mask... yet. "I'm Natasha." Not Six. Not Courier. Those means nothing to anyone here and nothing now. "Who's the dog?"

"And you, of course?"

engaging in combat in the commons is a given. with supermutants, raiders and feral ghouls lurking around any given corner, it’s best to come prepared—and nora always does. when she hears gunfire, she’s drawn to it; she expects some raiders fighting supermutants or perhaps supermutants fighting raiders, and she already plans to let the supermutants take them out before she fires on the raiders to be smart and save ammo. what she doesn’t expect, however, is a singular person fighting supermutants themselves. typically, the only humans she ever meets out here are bad news, and more often than not in multiples… but nora won't know that about this person until she gets the chance to speak to them. dogmeat springs into action, charging at the mutants in a dance they’ve repeated time and time again. nora lifts her rifle, aims down the scope, shoots one in the head. the next is partially covered by scrap from a mangled building, but dogmeat holds it in place; she fires at its thick skin repeatedly until it crumples to the floor with a hearty roar of defeat. she doesn't need to worry about the last two, however, not when the person in the armor handles it themselves.

when all grows quiet, nora raises a hand, rifle still clutched in the other. " you okay? " she calls uneasily across the space between them, keeping her distance for now. you can never be too careful out here. meanwhile, dogmeat has returned to her side, panting, tongue out as he looks between the two. nora lowers her hand to pet dogmeat's head. " i've got stimpaks if you need them, " she offers, glancing over the other to assess any damage. it's hard to tell with all that armor. " what's your name? " / @couri6r