Fallout 69 - The Cascadian Expanse (Interest check)

[Hellion]

now i wonder what would happen if a character were to have a child outside the vault. would we need to raise the child, or would it be dropped off back at the vault to make things simple

I feel like that would be up to the parent. Like, why should the Vault have any jurisdiction over a child born outside the Vault?

But then I guess we're getting into deeper discussions of all Vault dwellers being "property" of V69 and so, and by extension, their offspring, etc...

[Hellion]

[Jazzy trumpet music fades in, followed by a smooth, charismatic voice with a touch of sarcasm and just the right amount of charm]

"Well, well, well, good morning and happy Friday, Vault 69! It’s your golden-voiced guide to the underground life...Goldie on the mic, serving up smooth sounds and salty truths to start your sterile little day off riiiiight."

[Cue upbeat swing tune under voice]

"Today’s breakfast special in the cafeteria? Powdered* eggs, rehydrated hash, and a side of existential dread, but hey, at least it’s gluten-free! And speaking of free, the Overseer reminds you that "free thought" is not part of your daily ration."

[Static burst]

"On today’s community board: Big shoutout to young Frankie Cabrera from MedBay—heard she pulled a triple shift and still managed to beat her mentor at chess. Maybe next time, Doc Patel."

"And don’t forget folks, tomorrow night is 'Vault Karaoke Night'! Sing like no one can hear you...because they definitely can, and they’re judging. Harshly."

[Cheery 50s ad music fades in]

"Need a little lift to your day? Stop by Chem Lab 3, where Dr. Jensen is cooking up the latest version of Joytastic™, now with 30% fewer hallucinations! Mmm-mmm, taste that mild serotonin boost."

[Static burst]

"And finally, remember, if you hear a scratching in the ventilation shafts, it’s definitely not mole rats. That would be ridiculous. Vault 69 is perfectly sealed. Sleep tight!"

"This is DJ Goldie, signing off with one last thought: Life’s what you make of it...unless the Overseer makes it for you first. Keep it classy, keep it contained, and keep those smiles synthetic!"

[Akagi]

[Jazzy trumpet music fades in, followed by a smooth, charismatic voice with a touch of sarcasm and just the right amount of charm]

"Well, well, well, good morning and happy Friday, Vault 69! It’s your golden-voiced guide to the underground life...Goldie on the mic, serving up smooth sounds and salty truths to start your sterile little day off riiiiight."

[Cue upbeat swing tune under voice]

"Today’s breakfast special in the cafeteria? Powdered* eggs, rehydrated hash, and a side of existential dread, but hey, at least it’s gluten-free! And speaking of free, the Overseer reminds you that "free thought" is not part of your daily ration."

[Static burst]

"On today’s community board: Big shoutout to young Frankie Cabrera from MedBay—heard she pulled a triple shift and still managed to beat her mentor at chess. Maybe next time, Doc Patel."

"And don’t forget folks, tomorrow night is 'Vault Karaoke Night'! Sing like no one can hear you...because they definitely can, and they’re judging. Harshly."

[Cheery 50s ad music fades in]

"Need a little lift to your day? Stop by Chem Lab 3, where Dr. Jensen is cooking up the latest version of Joytastic™, now with 30% fewer hallucinations! Mmm-mmm, taste that mild serotonin boost."

[Static burst]

"And finally, remember, if you hear a scratching in the ventilation shafts, it’s definitely not mole rats. That would be ridiculous. Vault 69 is perfectly sealed. Sleep tight!"

"This is DJ Goldie, signing off with one last thought: Life’s what you make of it...unless the Overseer makes it for you first. Keep it classy, keep it contained, and keep those smiles synthetic!"

?

[Hellion]

?

Just having fun with a radio broadcast, which is very Fallout Universe if you're familiar with the game :)

[LaCroix]

[Jazzy trumpet music fades in, followed by a smooth, charismatic voice with a touch of sarcasm and just the right amount of charm]

"Well, well, well, good morning and happy Friday, Vault 69! It’s your golden-voiced guide to the underground life...Goldie on the mic, serving up smooth sounds and salty truths to start your sterile little day off riiiiight."

[Cue upbeat swing tune under voice]

"Today’s breakfast special in the cafeteria? Powdered* eggs, rehydrated hash, and a side of existential dread, but hey, at least it’s gluten-free! And speaking of free, the Overseer reminds you that "free thought" is not part of your daily ration."

[Static burst]

"On today’s community board: Big shoutout to young Frankie Cabrera from MedBay—heard she pulled a triple shift and still managed to beat her mentor at chess. Maybe next time, Doc Patel."

"And don’t forget folks, tomorrow night is 'Vault Karaoke Night'! Sing like no one can hear you...because they definitely can, and they’re judging. Harshly."

[Cheery 50s ad music fades in]

"Need a little lift to your day? Stop by Chem Lab 3, where Dr. Jensen is cooking up the latest version of Joytastic™, now with 30% fewer hallucinations! Mmm-mmm, taste that mild serotonin boost."

[Static burst]

"And finally, remember, if you hear a scratching in the ventilation shafts, it’s definitely not mole rats. That would be ridiculous. Vault 69 is perfectly sealed. Sleep tight!"

"This is DJ Goldie, signing off with one last thought: Life’s what you make of it...unless the Overseer makes it for you first. Keep it classy, keep it contained, and keep those smiles synthetic!"

Very funny. Love it. 

[Hellion]

Very funny. Love it. 

haha, one of my fav aspects of the Fallout games was the humor.

[HaveStoryWillTravel]

The humor and the music.

[Hellion]

The humor and the music.

Yes! Definitely a big nod to the Golden Age of music.

[Hellion]

Happy Monday, Vault dwellers and Wastelanders :)

[Hellion]

@LaCroix

My character concept for your consideration. I did take the liberty in reformatting some of the items in the CS because I liked the flow a little better :)

Tess Cabrera | Medic

BASIC INFO

Name: Tess Cabrera
Pronouns: She/Her
Age: 22
Race: Human
Origin: Vault Dweller – Vault 69
Affiliation: Unaffiliated
Occupation / Role: Medic
Face Claim: Heather Kemesky

APPEARANCE

Physical Description: Standing at just under five feet, Tess doesn’t mind the fact that her smaller, petite stature keeps her hidden in plain sight and being rather on the androgynous side, she leans toward gender neutral and simple wardrobes, especially those that don’t draw unwanted attention. She keeps her dark hair short most of the time.

Clothing / Armor: During her time on the surface, she ditched the Vault suit and ended up with fairly plain clothes, such as: t-shirts, jeans, boots, and jackets.

Weapons & Gear:

• Leather rucksack full of medical supplies
• Rolled-up heavy wool blanket
• Standard issue combat knife
• 10mm handgun with two extra clips
• Week’s worth of dried rations

PERSONALITY

Description: For the most part, she is quite introverted, and tends to keep her distance from social engagements as much as possible, unless it is with close friends she trusts. Some see her as rather quirky at times, and others are just confused by her appearance, as those who may not know her that well, aren’t sure if she is a girl or boy. Real relationships seemed like a fairy tale, but that’s how she likes it, not allowing others to get too close and keeping herself busy enough not to worry about such things.

Moral Outlook: Cautious Optimism

Fears / Weaknesses:

• Not physically strong due to her petite frame and small size
• As a medical professional, she does have a fear of failing her patients
• Tends to shy away from certain people who come on too strong.

BACKSTORY

Tess Cabrera was born in Vault 69 on what the Overseer once called “a day of remarkable promise”. It was a record-setting surge in births. But who knew which cry was hers, or who among the many cradles held her first. There were no records listed of biological parents. No names passed from mouth to mouth. What she did have were two caretakers, both scientists, who raised her with the kind of detached efficiency one might give a favored experiment. Love wasn’t absent, exactly, it just came in the form of blood pressure readings, nutrition charts, and progress reports.

As she grew older, Tess was unremarkable in appearance compared to many of the other girls. She was also quite short, petite, quiet and generally easy to overlook. Never wearing makeup really and keeping her hair relatively short gave her a rather plain and sometimes androgynous look. This just made social engagements strange overall, so she preferred solitude. Preferred silence. Even as a child, she recoiled from the social games other children played in the corridors and learning chambers. Only in the sterile comfort of the medical bays or archives did she feel at ease.

Her aptitude for medicine was noticed early. By age ten, she could identify muscle groups and trace veins like a seasoned nurse. By fourteen, she was shadowing field medics during simulations. It was the one place where she felt useful and where the numbers and statistics made sense. People didn’t care about what you looked like, or who your parents might have been, but rather whether you were up for the task of being a medical professional.

However, Vault 69 had its own agenda.

As she came of age, the Vault’s priorities shifted, at least for her. Test results. Bloodwork. Compatibility charts. She was paired with boy after boy—handsome, strong, genetically robust. All chosen to ensure "optimum fertility outcomes”. Each encounter was a disappointment. Not for them. For her. While others around her swelled with purpose, mostly new mothers glowing under the Overseer's praise, Tess was met with quiet meetings, reassigned prescriptions, and new rounds of injections.

Of course it wasn't the men. Vault medics had confirmed that much. It was her. Something dormant, broken, or simply missing. And that truth clung to her like radiation in her bloodstream. Silent. Sickening. Irreversible

Tess tried not to resent it. But she did.

The place that had built her had no space for her. She had been sculpted, primed, and programmed for one specific outcome. And she had failed. In a vault where reproduction was the cornerstone of survival, infertility wasn’t a condition. It was a defect. On the bright side, they did happen to discover that while she was infertile, her body’s cellular structure regenerated at a much more rapid pace than the average human. Although as cool as that might have been, Tess still felt less of a person.

She buried the shame under bandages and textbooks. Learned to stitch wounds while ignoring the ache in her chest. Dove deeper into medicine, where her worth wasn't judged by what her body couldn't do, but by what her hands could. She read archived reports of the outside world. Sure it was scarred by radiation and war, but it was free. Unstructured. Brutal, but honest.
She didn’t know if anything good still existed beyond the Vault door. She wasn’t even sure she cared. All she knew was that she didn’t belong down in the belly of a place that did not recognize her any longer. Not really.

And so she waited. Quiet. Steady. Invisible. Until the moment came to leave.

▬▬▬▬ ● ▬▬▬▬

The Vault had a way of swallowing time.

Days bled into one another under sterile lights and recycled air. Yet, for Tess, there had always been a clock ticking beneath the hum of fluorescent panels, a subtle rhythm that pulsed with the same question she never dared ask aloud: When will I get out?

The Overseer’s announcement came years later, before the scheduled vault-wide opening. A small, specialized scouting team would be sent topside, six individuals chosen for their utility and discipline. Reconnaissance. Environmental data collection. No contact, if it could be helped. Observe. Return.

Tess eagerly volunteered before the Overseer had finished speaking. Her medical experience earned her a spot with little debate, though some questioned her temperament. She didn’t care. She’d studied every old record she could access: surface flora, crumbling road systems, environmental threats, old-world pathogens. She packed light, but thoroughly. Supplies, stims, a worn holotape she’d hidden since childhood, recordings of old radio broadcasts that made the world above feel a little less foreign.

As they made their way to the Vault entrance, silence clung to the group. Scientists murmured to one another in clipped, excited tones. The armed escorts, which were two vault enforcers, checked and rechecked their weapons. Tess, meanwhile, kept her gaze fixed on the steel door, her hands flexing at her sides.

Then came the grinding. The Vault door began to move slowly at first, then groaned open with the weight of countless years. Light, real sunlight, poured in through the widening crack like the rays from some divine being above. Warm, golden, and blinding. The group shielded their eyes. Tess’s chest tightened, not from fear, but awe. The air tasted different. Dusty. Wild. Alive.

For a moment, no one spoke. And then, they stepped out.

Ahead of them laid a decayed stretch of asphalt flanked by skeletal trees and rust-covered signs. Wind rustled through the overgrowth, carrying scents that were foreign and intoxicating such as earth, rot, and something faintly metallic. In the distance, hollow towers of crumbled buildings stabbed into the horizon. A highway overpass, long collapsed, rested like a dying beast over the landscape. The ruins were strangely beautiful. Moss-covered cars, broken light posts swallowed by vines, remains of homes with sun-bleached photo frames still sitting on crumbled mantels. It was like walking through a dream that never woke up.

They moved north at first, then veered eastward. The scientists documented flora samples, radiation readings, and soil composition. Tess kept her head on a swivel, cataloging the symptoms of fear that flickered across her companions' faces. She felt it too, but buried it beneath purpose. She was the only medic on hand. She didn’t have the luxury to fall apart.

Then, the sign appeared in the distance. It jutted up from behind a small ridge, tall and chipped but unmistakable: Red Rocket.

Its faded red letters still clung stubbornly to the metal. One of the scientists chuckled under his breath. “We made it to the museum,” he said. Tess almost smiled, thinking about how well-known the place was from past stories Vault-dwellers had been subjected to. As they approached, the building stood like a monument from another life. Even in ruin, it had charm. They pushed open the rusted doors, stepped into the gutted lobby, and made camp among broken shelves and sun-bleached posters.

For the first time since leaving the Vault, laughter echoed softly in the air.

Then the world erupted.

They came from everywhere, fast and silent. Raiders. A dozen or more. Filthy, scarred, and clad in patchwork armor made of rubber, metal plating, and heavy cloth. Some howled like animals. Others didn’t bother. They descended with savage precision, and before anyone could react, the escorts were down, blood scattering across their blue and yellow suits like dark flowers. Tess froze, her heart a hammer in her chest. One of the scientists tried to run. A shot rang out. He fell.

Someone grabbed Tess by the collar and threw her against the wall. Her ears rang. Her breath caught. Her limbs refused to move. A man, tall, reeking of sweat and smoke, rummaged through her satchel and pulled out her medical kit.

“You a medic, little girl?” he grunted in a slow drawl.

Tess’s lips parted, but no words came. She nodded.

“Good.” He raised his hand. Two sharp whistles followed as signals. Then gunfire. The other scientist screamed only once. The last sobbed a plea before his throat opened under a jagged blade. Tess’s scream was caught in her throat. She moved to stop them, to say something, but a sudden, crushing blow struck the back of her skull.

Darkness swallowed her before the bodies hit the ground.

▬▬▬▬ ● ▬▬▬▬

Time lost meaning not long after the pain began.

Tess couldn’t recall how many weeks had passed since the ambush. At first, it all bled together, the metallic taste of blood in her mouth, the sting of restraints biting her wrists, the empty stare of the man who dragged her through the gates of a settlement that wasn’t on any map. Surrounded by rusted fencing and half-collapsed buildings, it was a place built from scraps and desperation, populated by raiders, refugees, scavengers, and strays. And children. There were always children, watching with curiosity and intrigue.

For the first week, they left her in a dark room shackled, bruised, and forgotten. She thought they’d kill her. Hoped, even. But then they came. Not to execute. To use.

Word had spread that the scouting party carried Vault-Tech grade medical equipment. They hadn’t expected a trained medic. And for that, Tess became valuable. She treated wounds first, grimy lacerations, infected burns, makeshift tourniquets that needed repair. Then came the radiation sickness, the tumors, the brittle bones of children born too close to the wrong kind of soil. They shoved patients into her room and left her to work. If she saved them, good. If not, there would always be more. She did what she could, because doing nothing was death. For them and for her.

But healing wasn’t all they wanted.

There were men, some older, some not much more than boys, who saw her not as a healer, but as something warm to crawl into when the world outside felt too cold. Some were cruel. Some were almost gentle. Some left trinkets, food, scraps of paper with drawings on them as if that made what they did less. Some claimed her, tried to name her, gave her titles like “Doc” or “Sweet Thing” or “Mine.” She endured it all, retreating somewhere deep inside herself where no one could reach. A place of cold tiles and white light and sterile silence.

Still, she worked.

Over time, things changed. Not drastically, not quickly, but enough. Her reputation grew. They stopped locking her in. Gave her a tent. Stocked it with bandages, antiseptics, even salvaged Vault instruments. People came to her willingly, limping, coughing, asking for help with things they didn’t understand. Raiders brought her medicine they'd looted from caravans. She learned to compound vaccines, reconstitute antibiotics, and stretch supplies far beyond their shelf lives.

She did all that…and observed.

She watched the comings and goings of patrols. Tracked supply runs. Studied the guard shifts and the gaps in patrol coverage. Raiders, she learned, weren’t so different from anyone else, as they followed patterns, routines, egos. And egos were easy to manipulate when they thought you were no threat.

Her escape came with the third caravan that month.

She had been planning it for weeks. Certainly long enough to know which raider packed which vehicle, who got drunk early, who never checked the rear. She quickly left her tent, taking a pre-packed rucksack full of medical supplies, rations, a handgun, some clothes, and a few other things.

No goodbyes. No attachments. Only silence.

When the caravan moved out under a sweltering morning sun, Tess was already in the back of the last covered truck, hidden beneath a pile of cracked crates and old tarps that smelled of rust and rotting food. She didn’t move. Didn’t breathe deeply. Her fingers clutched a scalpel she’d hidden in her boot. Just in case.

At dusk, the convoy slowed. The road narrowed. One truck stopped, its engine coughing into silence near an overturned bus. She heard arguing. Cursing. There was a delay. When the driver climbed down to check the blockage, Tess moved. Slipping from the back of the truck and into the surrounding brush, she crawled until her knees bled. Then she ran. She didn’t know which direction, only away. She ran until her legs gave out, until her lungs burned, until the settlement was nothing but memory and smoke. When she finally collapsed beside the skeleton of a long-dead tree, there was no one to chase her. No one to find her. Only wind, sky, and space.

She was free. At least for now.

S.P.E.C.I.A.L.

• Strength (STR): 4
• Perception (PER): 7
• Endurance (END): 5
• Charisma (CHA): 5
• Intelligence (INT): 8
• Agility (AGI): 6
• Luck (LCK): 5

EVOLUTIONARY ADAPTATIONS

Adaptation Name: Accelerated Healing

Effect: Tess heals at least three times faster than a typical human would.

Drawback: Her infertility was the tradeoff, as though her body would rather be in survival mode, than in procreation mode.

SEXUALITY & THEMES

Orientation: Demisexual

Kinks / Interests: Tess has had very little exposure to sexual pleasure outside of the typical vanilla she had been subjected to in the Vault. Perhaps the right character will come along and break through the walls of doubt, as her nature would be more on an emotional level than pure physical.

Fertility: Infertile

Ons & Offs: I’m pretty open to most things, but here’s my O/O’s. Also feel free to ask.