A/N: My first Fallout fan-fic. Just note that he will grow older and become a man later, mabye in the second chapter or first. Constructive criticism welcome. Oh, and I would like you to read my fan-fic and not just say, "bravo" and not actually read it.

Prologue: All the same.

They said that the world plunged into a pool of darkness after the War. They are wrong. The world was just as dark before, as it is now; murder, sixual assault, prostitution, drugs, gambling, theft, hypocrisy and war. All sins were openly laid out in New Vegas, for all eyes to see. Did anyone care? No, they cared only for their own needs; money and pleasure. Little did they know that one man would change the world forever.
***

Asaph was fascinated. He flipped through the tatty book, each page a wonder, vibrant with colours. A picture book, his father called it. But it was more than a picture book. It was art. It was book of paintings. Then he came across one that caught his eye. The picture had a dark green contrast to it, thick dollops of paint was to be seen. A family surrounded a table, the mother pouring in coffee and potatoes being served. It showed poverty-no, it shouted poverty. Life was the same then it is now.
He leaned back on the ruined couch, his head resting, looking up towards the ceiling. Pushing his cropped brown hair back, he reflected, What needs to be done? Why does all this bad happen? He closed his kind brown eyes, hoping to catch some rest.

“Hey!” A voice cried out, “Asaph, dad wants you.”

“What does he want, Alex?” Asaph mumbled.

“You”, he replied, unable to keep the bluntness from his voice.

Asaph groaned, and pulled himself up off the couch. His feet hit the dusty ground with a thud. Alex had already gone away, not telling his younger brother at least where their father was. Asaph assumed he would be out in the shed, working and playing with his guns, as usual. Asaph walked up the small hill to a rusty tin shed. Inside, was a wooden table, his father bent over it tinkering with weapons. On the furthest wall, hung a rack holding bullets, metal work and cords.

“Dad? Did’ya need me?” The boy knocked the table with the back of his hand to catch his father’s attention.

“What’s that? Oh, yes. “He gestured his son to come closer, “Here, take this. It’s a Sig Sauer. For you. On your birthday.”

Asaph eye’s widened, “Dad. A gun?” He was thankful his father remembered his birthday, but a gun? “Listen, dad, I appreciate it, but I can’t change the world with a gun.”

His father laughed loudly, “Already fifteen and out to change the world!” He stroked his beard, “Just take it, Asa.”

Asaph did as told and took the pistol and smiled sheepishly, “Thanks, anyways.” He hugged his father and went out in search of cans to practise his aim. At least it will please his father.

WELCOME SCHMUTY!

And by that, I mean welcome to Fan-fic writing. Didn't really know another way to phrase it. Anyway, moving on to your story...Amazing, I could easily see you on par or above Surfer, you have a very nice vivid, imagery going on, at least compared to what I have normally seen. Your also accomplish this without so many words that it bores the reader, and not so little that it makes the reader struggle. I'm not saying your have the perfect balance, but it is pretty damn good.

The rest of the story follows suit, I don't know if have written this out, but from what I've read, you have a solid lead on where your going with this. I see you have a good ground for your character(s), each one has something about that makes them seem human and not just things thrown in to advance the plot. And I can tell all this from your prologue. Great Job, but there were some flaws. Tiny ones, but in a story like this, they can be important.


Your forgot an (as), and since this is your hook it makes it all the more important.


I thought that was an extremely weak way to end your hook, it's seems kind of boring/anti-climatic/simple, I dunno. It just seems like you could have done better to me.


Leant isn't a word mate. Leaned.


Practise isn't a word. but Practice is.



Will should be would. Extremely important that you match your tenses, you had the entire story in past tense, but right at the end your changed to present. That's a no-no, try to keep away from that.

And I'm done. See? Not to much to criticize here. A couple of spelling errors, that I think Microsoft Word(or Open Office if your cheap) should have picked up. But nothing so distracting that it takes away from the story. This is a wonderful first Fan-Fic, your have a modicum of talent, good to see your using it. Keep it up.

Good Luck.

A nice brief intro of the main character. Im interested to see how his method of changing the world will turn out, and if he will be more of a anti-hero or hero.

Thanks for reading! :toughninja:


Thankyou for proof-reading (even though I should of done it). And, 'practise' is the Australian way of spelling, and yes I wrote this on Word, so few words may differ. Should I change it still, seeing as how the majority of forumites here are American?

I like it so far, keep going with it and oh is guy going to be the courier or someone else who meets the courier or whatever

No. He will not even meet the Courier, though there may be mention of him or her and the factions.

coolies now I really can't wait for it :goodjob:

I see, I apologize for my ignorance, I'll try not to let a mistake like that happen again. And no, if that's how you spell it, than spell it like that. And no, I wouldn't change it, there are plenty of Aussie's on the forums anyways. I think the rest of my advice still stands, and don't worry about the editing. It's hard to do it by yourself, it's easier when someone else helps. Honestly when I re read my works, I usually insert words or change them based on what I think it suppose to be and not what it actually is.

My point is that this is a wonderful story with very few errors.

No need to apologise, Yttrium!

Chapter 1: Dark Desires

Freeside, 2295

Freeside stunk heavily of neglect. Bodies were thrown into side-streets, buried underneath a stinking mass of rubbish. Bodily fluids ran into storm drains and a great depression hung in the air.
Coby scavenged what she could off small bits of leftovers thrown out the windows. The food was scarce, often coated in dirt, but it was a matter of survival. People were desperate, using whatever tactics they could think of.
She rummaged through bins, hoping someone was stupid enough to throw food away. She got what she wanted, but now looking at the scraps, she could see why. The bread was mouldy. Dark green blotches covered one side of the loaf, the other side, not yet mouldy. Coby tore off the mouldy-green parts and ate the white.

The sun was setting off in the horizon, the sky painted red. It was getting close to dark. Dark was bad around these parts. Night-time was ever so unsafe. The Kings kept gave you safe harbour – if you were one of them, The Mormons took good care of those that are sick, which was something Coby was not, despite the food and air. Every night, she had to find a place to sleep. Often, she would crawl into her niche, but just as often she found another sleeping child in it. Never mind that, she would say, it’s just for the night. So of went she to the dumpster. Who knew what lay beneath the rubble and rubbish, but who cared?

As Coby searched, she noticed another woman, about five years her senior. The woman wore make-up heavily; a sweet fragrant came off her clothes and around her neck, was jangling jewellery. Her blonde hair was loose, her blue eyes fluttering.

The woman stopped what she’d been doing and smiled towards Coby. She gestured for Coby to come. The adolescent did so, walking to the woman’s gaze.

“Well, well. You’re a beautiful one, aren’t you? Say, the name’s Veronica. What’s yours?”

And beautiful she was; light, wavy long brown hair, too-blue intelligent eyes, pale and a slender frame. “Coby, madam.”

Veronica chuckled curtly, “How old are you now, Coby?”

Coby thought for a moment, “About fifteen.”

Again with the chuckle, “My, you are one of not many words, right?” Veronica brushed her hair back, “How would you consider joining us girls? I’m sure the Garrets will approve.”

“Us girls?” She repeated, confused.

“Yes, us girls go out and entertain some fellas that need it, no?”

“Oh.” Coby thought longingly. Did she really need this? After all, there was no harm in it; you got food and a roof over your head. No harm done, right?

Coby nodded, and followed the woman towards The Atomic Wrangler and there, she meet her new future, where true happiness was snatched away.

OH MY GOD! Dillinger would go psycho if he found out the girl he thought was dead had become a employ at The Atomic Wrangler!!!!!!!!



:hugs:

Only kidding. A great addition to the story! Once more I look forward to seeing how all the characters develop once things start to get really deep in the later chapters! Keep them coming Smutts!

And I don't think Ill be able to eat bread for the next week after reading about the moldy one. :sick:

Great first chapter keep it coming :clap:

dont worry bout the yanks, mate
have you hear the joke, stephen colbert said
"if we didnt chase the brits out of America, we would all be speaking English"!

i liked it, does seem t have a thick atmosphere.
as for old mate's comment re: anti climix,
i think the pace of discriptions works well, but you may have have too speed it up during action.

i would like too know more about the textile and visual aspects of the enviroment.
like the couch, how did it feel against his head, did it groan against his weight.
and keepin mind i wanna see what the protaganist sees, like as he wlks in to see his father
with guns.. has he seen that gun before or do the pieces lok like a chrome jugsaw.

oh another suggestion...
if the character is young, how would he know the couch was ruined? has it been that way all his life..?
which could play out well as a drive for Asa, his understanding of the world, why does he know it needs changing?

take all this above with a grain of salt, i havent written much
nd im on a bit of an ASIMOV only diet at the moment.
who do you read?

Aj