While it's nice to finally play an RPG where people notice you rooting through their stuff, it destroys the illusion a bit to be sitting in a bar and be constantly threatened by other patrons not to even think about stealing the plates.
I'm amused to note that the metro stations in the game are modelled on
the real thing (having been there myself when I was 10) though I do note that after 200 years the subway tunnels would likely be flooded as, given how Washington sits on a river, the tunnels are likely
below the water table and would therefore require constant pumping to keep from flooding.
Sheelagh the unwashed vault dweller's diary, part three:
ZOMG Spoiler! Click here to view!
I decided today I'd had enough of Moira - all she ever seemed to want me to do was go out and grievously injure myself so she could take notes. I remembered poor Bryan Wilks, still sitting in that stuffy old personal fallout shelter... and I decided to go and help him with his ant problem.
...
I won't detail my experiences in Marigold metro station. Suffice it to say, if I never see another ant again, it'll be too soon.
I stumbled back into Megaton feeling very, very unhappy, not to mentioned injured and sore. I finally was able to justify to myself the 120 caps needed to hire a bed in Moriarty's bar and whorehouse, though I had to wait until I awoke the following morning before I had sufficent energy to make the use of Nova's services (I noted that she was equally grateful for the respite and a good night's sleep)
Bryan had mentioned he had family in an old aircraft carrier far to the southeast. That sounded to me like Rivet City, and I decided to head for it. What followed was one of the most harrowing journeys of my life.
Things started out well... except Micky, the beggar outside Megaton, had finally succumbed to dehydration. I felt pity for him, but not much, as I'd given him two extremely precious helpings of purified water and he had remained sat there, trying for more every time I passed. I headed for Greyditch again, and then began following the old highway. However, as I'd been, er, late out of bed that morning, it was already late in the evening by the time I was entering uncharted territory, and it was 10pm when I spotted a friendly scav who'd made camp on an old overpass. We traded, and I took advantage of the safe environment (he had TWO guard dogs, for goodness' sake!) to have a quick rest. A few hours later I woke from my doze and decided to carry on into the dark and ominous ruins.
I had only rounded the first corner when I came face to face with a raider firing her assault rifle at me. I raced back to the scavenger, and together we took her down. Feeling restless and not wanting to press his hospitality any further, I resumed my journey. After many more miles, the first light was just beginning to appear on the horizon when I spotted some armed men below the overpass I was crossing. They weren't raiders, so I went to speak with them. One immediately recognized me as 'the one from the Vault' and announced that it was time for me to die. I didn't have time to ask questions, and ran for my life, escaping them and narrowly avoiding another of group of them shortly afterwards.
I was nearing the Potomac now, when I came under fire from a soldier in power armour high above. I ducked and ran, scrambling along the rubble that lay long the riverside as countless armoured soldiers along the perimeter of this building (which I suspect was in fact the infamous Pentagon) fired at me.
Gasping for breath, I reached a road bridge across the river, and made my way across. My respite was short lived, for I reached the other shore only to come under fire from my most fearsome foe yet in this fraught journey: supermutants! Through cunning and guile I managed to evade them in the ruins, emerge onto the shore to see the enormous silhouette of the beached aircraft carrier housing Rivet City looming ahead.
Climbing the gantry to the entrance, I spotted... another beggar who, like Micky, was again begging for purified water. I had none to give, and little inclination to do so even if I did. The bridge swung over the gap, and I made my way into Rivet City. Harkness, the local captain of the guards, was rather severe, but provided directions to the local common house where I was extremely grateful to find the bunk I'm now laying on as I write this. I must put my diary aside now, for my eyelids grow heavy. More soon.
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