writing a fanfic: <_< :toughninja: :banghead: :confused: :fallout: :user: :clap: :woot: then repeat process for the next sentence.

I am over two hundred years old, and I finally found her again.
After all these years, the weight of guilt was finally lifted from my shoulders. I could finally forgive myself for leaving her in that restaurant to save my own ass all those years ago. I mustered up all the strength I had in me separated my chest from hers for the first time since we embraced. Then I looked into her eyes again, and caressed her cheek.

"How long, how long have you been here?"

She looked away, as if trying to count the years, then her gaze met mines again.

"When the bombs fell...when you left me--"

She stopped short and bit her lip. I looked at her reassuringly, giving her permission to continue, but not letting on how much it really hurt inside.

"I didn't know where to go, so I panicked and tried to follow you, but you were too fast. I called your name until my voice stopped producing sound, but by that time you were long gone, so I went in the closest house I could find and trapped myself in the basemant for two days. When I came out, there was this eerie look to everything. Like the whole world....just died. With nowhere to go I wandered the city, lost and confused. Soon, the radiation in the air got to my lungs and I started wheezing, then coughing. After not too long, I drifted to the Museum of History, nearly dead. The place was closed and looked inhospitable to support life, but it was the only building I could see that was in one piece. By the time I entered underworld, there were already a couple people here, including the doctor that runs this place with me."

By this time, her voice had regained its composure, and her tears had finally dried up. She was returning to her regular self again.

"He took me under his wing, taught me everything he knew. I've been working with him ever since. What have you been doing."

Now it was my turn to tell my dashing story of how I scoured D.C., searching for a chance to prove myself worthy of her love, or at least she thought.

"I...I've been uhh..."

I searched my brain for the best way to say to sum up the past two hundred years. I came up with nothing.

"I haven't been quite as productive as you. All I've been doing is surviving. It was by chance I found this place, thanks to a couple rookies I caught on their way here."

I purposely didn't share the part about the cannibal maniac with mind-control. That could stay between me and myself...

"Well, I have to finish up here, but I live over at Carol's place."

When I heard this the image of mattress, soft and springy, popped up in my head. That made me realize how tired I was.

"Where is it?" I asked hastily.

"Up the stairs to the right. Tell her I sent you. You can sleep in my bed."

I walked on over to the spot and after a brief introduction with the owner and her daughter, I crashed on the bed, and fell into a deep, satisfying sleep.

The next day

In the middle of the night, I thought I heard shots, and screaming. I woke up, slightly dizzy and not sure where I was. I looked over to the counter in front of me, still confused. My eyes met one of those rolling draqes that you see in hospitals. Then I remembered that I was at Carol's Place. But what I didn't remember, was being isolated by all the rolling draqes. I drowsily got up out of the bed and opened the curtains. Nobody was outside either. Then a another, this time cut short by gunfire, then topped off by a door slam.

What the hell?

Years of living in the wasteland made me suddenly alert. I reached for my pistol instinctively, then remembered Jesse. Now slightly terrified, I ran to the door, which was locked for some reason. Without much effort I broke through it and ran full speed down to the Chop Shop and looked for her, but stopped dead when I saw a dead body halfway down the steps. This body wasn't a ghoul body though, it wasn't even one of the rookies. No, this body donned leather armor and a tattoo on his face. My mind went to the worst palace possible, and horror overtook me. I reached a shaky hand at the body and searched until I found precisely what I didn't want to find. A slaver tag. I fought to keep my composure as I continued to search for any clues of why they would do this. I found a briefing that read:

You are to go to Underworld, and capture everyone. Now, I am aware that these folk are...on the ugly side, but there is always a method to my madness. These people are merely pawns, tools for wager, a gambit for much to come. Just you wait. Until then, just make sure they get to me in one piece -- which I know will be a challenge.

-Eulogy Jones

I rose to my feet, legs still trembling, knowing now what needed to be done. As fast as I could I stripped the bodies of all the ammo and collected a hunting rifle and a laser pistol from some deceased slavers. After I checked all the bodies I ran out of the museum and into the outside world.

Another body. This time, it was Willow. I felt sick, but there wasn't time to feel sorry anymore. I was pissed. I took her laser rifle and was about to run up to the Brotherhood soldier when a bullet whizzed by me. It was a Super Mutant, who was actually shooting at the soldier, but in my rage, I thought he was shooting at me.

"You picked the wrong day to be green [censored]!" I yelled aloud as I pulled out my new weapon and ran in a blind fury in towards him. He still hadn't registered my existence until I pressed the butt of my rifle into his temple with all the power my biceps could generate. He stumbled a couple steps...only dazed. Still in anger, I shot 5 cells at his torso, and watched as his body crumpled into itsself. Even after his pulse had died I was still firing cells into his hide, then I came back to my senses. I realized I was wasting bullets like an idiot and finally let go of the trigger. The beast was now completely charred and unrecognizable from the back. I reloaded by weapon and then realized, astonished, that I only had 8 bullets left. I heaved a long, exasperated sigh and viewed the area in front of the white house. No more super mutants.

They must be in the bunker, better dip off before they makes sense of all the commotion.

I looked over to the left and saw the Brotherhood of Steel soldier standing, knees bent, weapon trained on me.

"Don't move or I'll blast you to hell you zombie bastard."

What day is it? A day to kill.

"What day is it/? A day to kill."

YES they deserve to die, and I hope they burn in hell.

That was awesome man. Great chapter, I've only got a single complaint.

It was when Jesse had that long paragraph dialogue. I would cut it in half by having her wipe her face or something, just so that it's easier to read.

Nice Job, now I want to know what happens next. :thumbsup:

It's good Ant, it really is. I want to give you something more constructive but I honestly don't have the brain power right now. It's so hot where I am and humid, (and no air conditioner) and I just don't have anything for you other than to say that the effort you put into this shows. Writing is damn hard work.
I'll try to have a better critique when I'm not so freaking hot. :flame:

Sorry for length, but when you read it, you will understand.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Don't move or I'll blast you to hell you zombie bastard."

Slowly, without protest, I laid the weapon on the ground, barrel facing away from him. I know what the Brotherhood are about, that their the hardest group of steel in D.C. I knew what they could do. So I knelt on one knee, then two. After that, I raised my hands, very slowly. All the while his nozzle still aimed at my head. Then, quick as I could, I yanked the gun from his grip and threw it away. At the same time I pivoted towards him and lunged at him, sending both up us plummeting into the ground. I knew there were more where he came from, so I had top move fast. Now mounted on top of him I reached for my pistol, which I would have to use wisely because he was masked. Thankfully, the close range encounter granted me the precision to place my nozzle on the visor of the writhing face. Despite his valiant effort, two bullets ceases the movement. I quickly put my pistol back in the holster and grabbed both rifles, planning to empty the extra when I got to safety. I know what I did just sealed my fate, but I'd rather be dead with her than without her.

After not too long I made it out of the city unscathed, and emptied the microfusion cells in the spare rifle. By this time the BoS Knight has notified the members at GNR, and they have probably relayed the message to the Citadel. So now I was wanted by the largest threat in the country. But I didn't give a [censored]. I'd kill Elder Lyons himself if it gave me Jesse back. So I kept trudging forward, when I realized something. I didn't know where to go. The letter didn't specify as to where I should go if I were looking to kill their whole roster. I looked up hopelessly at a nearby street-sign and it read: Bailey Street. That didn't help me at all, but that's when I saw a door. Almost hidden behind a decimated tunnel entrance, I headed towards it, hoping it would take me somewhere helpful. Maybe some long forgotten ammo stash, or even better, Paradise Falls its self. Warily, I opened the door and looked at the steps that led down and around the corner. Okay, so we can check off Paradise Falls, I thought, but I still might find something juicy in here. I just hoped to God that the place didn't lead to a subway. Because if it did...then there would be no chance in hell I would enter. By this time I had turned corner after corner, but still no end or storage room in sight. Just more stairs. Then finally, I ran into the vast open corridor that led to subway gates.

I froze.

I could't go into the dark. I wouldn't. Not again. I spent too long rotting my skin away in this dank, cruel underworld. Wasting my life away, alone. With nothing or no one to think about except how I so selfishly betrayed her. My heart was pumping now, and a deathly chill ran throughout my body as I heard of the blood-thirsty calls of the feral's. They were right there in front of me! All over again I felt like the helpless sixteen year old, lost and confused. Now, my mouth had gone dry, but my heart was beating at a dangerously high rate.

I ran, as fast as I could up the stairs, four and five at a time. Back, back to where I came from. Away from the underground. The feral shrieking in my ear. It was right behind me now.

"Get away! Leave me alone!"

But it was hopeless. I started to panic. I tried to jump up the stairs and miscalculated. I fell and slammed my forehead on the edge of a step. Brain throbbing, I turned and shielded my face with my hands, forgetting I had a gun, forgetting I was even myself. I braced for the end, the feral had me now, but nothing happened. Slowly, still whimpering to myself, I yielded and looked out into the open. There was no feral. I then got up off the floor, still a little shaken and, trying to keep my composure, headed for the entrance. Then I thought about her again. I thought about how I left her, all because I didn't have to balls to face my demise with her. There are no feral's behind me. There's was nothing. Now, I went from embarrassed to downright disgusted. I'm two hundred and seventeen [censored] years old. I am a [censored] ghoul for Christ's sake. So I pulled out my pistol, and checked my clip. Twelve bullets, full. I looked up, face expressionless, and walked for the gate.

I reached it, and opened without hesitation. Then I saw a feral. He hadn't noticed me yet, and I wasn't letting my fear get in the way. I capped his ugly ass with a few shots. Then I saw the exit, which was only a few yards from the first gate. When I saw the light that meant ground level, I did feel like a bit of a punk, but as I opened the second gate and began to climb the broken escalators, I was jarred by the sound of explosions up above.

When I looked up, I saw a tall character dressed in black and red power armor with a mini-gun in hand, looking down at me.

"You gotta death wish?"

I should have stayed in the tunnels

Uh-oh, Outcast! Great place to leave it, with the reader wanting more. I would say that your strength as a writer show up in how you write action, (the pacing is spot on when leaving Underworld and leaving the city) and in the emotion surrounding Marcuss' thoughts of Jesse.

The weakness is when Marcus enters the tunnel. In the game, that's just what you do, but in a story it would make more sense if you explained it by saying he was hiding from the BoS or something like that. When read as a story, Marcus entering the tunnel seems random.

As usual, I'm looking forward to more.

in cases when you're trying to attach possession to a word or name, you would at an apostrophe at the end of the world (like you did)

Marcus'

I have almost no doubt you meant to say Marcus' but typed s twice, but like my mother says, I'm gonna say it anyway. Thank you for that tidbit of info, and I will try to will myself to reenter that chapter and make a better transitition. But this did get me thinking, have you played all of the DLC. If so ,you'd understand what I meant by:


and what a tunnel has to do with it.

I have the PS3 Game of the Year version. Sadly, I had to look up what "DLC" meant. Downloadable content? I'm a computer rtard by the way.
Operation Anchorage, but I missed the reference to Baily's crossing.

You're quite right about the S in Marcus. I missed that too.

The paragraphs are a little big it seems, but it feels like my eyeballs are about to melt from their sockets, so I don't know.

Also:


....
.....
......
Do I even need words?

Also, I have all the DLC and missed the reference too.

Aren't you glad you didn't stop this?

Yeah but I'm just as upset I couldn't make my other one. I just don't want that magnificent idea for the other one to erode into nothing. Now that I feel a couple people have commented on it (I don't like making people have to catch up with my posts, I find that frustrating (still catching up to Queen of The Pitt)), I will begin to work on the next installment.

P.S. *Gasp* how'd that 16 get in there!

P.S.S. And Spitt, I'm glad i'm not the only person shackled down the restrictions of vanilla gaming (not that i like mods anyway).

“Get the hell up here and help me kill these green f**ks!”

With that the black-clad soldier turned and began spewing bullets out of his massive weapon. I scrambled up the last couple stairs and viewed the battlefield.

The sight was pretty grisly, and I've seen some grisly stuff. There was a constant of onslaught of grenades constantly flying at the three green uglies. For some reason though, they just refused to die. I could see that the one with the hunting rifle was limping, a single red stream of blood sliding out the corner of his lip. He was almost down. I decided I would speed up the process. My laser rifle was out and bursting a steady influx of beams at the giant green mass. At last, six bullets later, he was on the ground. Next was me getting the remaining two brutes on the ground. One of them was firing his assault rifle with one arm, the other one clutching its torso. Looks like I've found your tickle spot, I thought as my hand pressed into the trigger repeatedly. He arched his back, howling in pain, then a some well-placed rounds from some soldiers on some nearby building sent him flying into the concrete.

And then there was one.

By this time, he'd seen both of his buddies get gunned down, and even his pea brain knew he stood no chance. He kept fighting though, firing short, sluggish bursts at the two soldiers shooting from the open wall. I ran around the soldier with the mini-gun and behind the mutants line of sight. Yanking a sledgehammer out the hands of a dead mutant, I ran up from behind him and flung my hammer into his right shoulder. His shoulder was the first thing to hit the ground, followed by the rest of his now lifeless shell. Now relieved, I released my grip on the weapon, letting it fall to the ground with a clank. If I was fighting these guys, I'd rather have a some guns.

I hastily looted the two assault rifle wielding freaks, and counted my ammo. Seventy four bullets. Great, cause I know there's more baddies to empty lead on.
I ran to meet up with the three guys in power armor, now wanting to know what's going on. Come to think of it, that armor looked somewhat familiar.

"My name is Marcus, who are you guys? I know I've seen you all before, walking around the wastes. And that armor...looks just like the Brother of Steel armor. Are you guys like the Brotherhood of Charcoal or somethin' like that."

I smirked, proud of the joke I just made, but his mask was so menacing and emotionless, I soon straitened my own out.

"We will talk later. For now, focus on the enemy."

"What enemy?" I asked, puzzled. As if on queue, out came another lumbering super mutant and his pet centaur. I always hated centaurs, they reminded me of those nasty monsters in children's books. And that face, so distorted and wrinkled. Like those happy/sad faces my mother used to have in her den. I always shot their faces first. The bullets slammed into the thing's face and mouth. Sending it reeling backwards slightly, its three tongues flipping over its eyes. Meanwhile, the armored guys were blasting at the super mutant with an onslaught of five and fifty five millimeter rounds. By the time the centaur was down, so was the green guy. We moved onward down the stairs and into the main area of the building and I ran strait for the nearest pillar.

I poked one of my eyes out from the safety of cover, and got a quick survey of how many there were. Sighing in dismay, I noticed four. I was getting tired, but I used the adrenaline I still had to keep me on edge. I switched from my assault to my laser rifle, hoping I could get more precise shots since the enemies were so far away. Five bullets slammed into one, finishing him off. Another six into the next victim. Then I pivoted back into cover. I still had thirteen bullets left in my clip, which was enough for the next two. My pillar was now deteriorating due to the constant intake of lead. Keeping my calm, I spun into the one next to me. In all actuality, this fighting stuff is like clockwork to me, and although it still wears me out, it doesn't scare me like other things.

Immediately after I thought that, out came something bigger than I was used to seeing. It wasn't behemoth sized, but it definitely dwarfed all the other super mutants. It's neck had more girth than his head did, as well as the rest of his appendages too. And its armor reminded me grudgingly of Grognak the Barbarian. I just hoped he wasn't as badass. On the bright side, he was only carrying a Super Sledge so I could by myself some time and stifle his health before he was of danger. I finished the third mutant, which left only the biggest and meanest. This time, he was the one outnumbered, and that was enough to keep me confident.

I ran towards him, now exited to finish up this grueling battle, for this was surely the best they had... I hoped. The soldiers bullets were faster than me; they hit him dead on, but he didn't stop. By this time we were looking at each other. Nothing but a couple of planks, separating the large gaps where the ground should have been. Remnants of the destruction that happened years ago. There was a column in the center of the area that had a large gash in it. A gash that I could use to my advantage. It was about waist high, which would allow me to reveal only my head and shoulders. I ran, pummeling him with laser beams in addition to every one else's lead. I slammed into that pillar and caught my breath for a second. I'm gettin' too old for this [censored]. On the other side of the pillar the greenie was shouting inaudible dialogue in the worm of three to four word sentences. I had a feeling he was almost out for the count though, so I emptied my clip on his face. I same a lucky few beams make it into the things mouth before he toppled over, falling all the way down to the basemant level. With that, I ran on down those steps ans into the clearing that revealed a large assortment of red metal beams. It gave the persona of a construction site, ut I knew this place must have been their base.

I let the other soldiers surpass me, now walking at a comfortable pace. I slung my rifle over my shoulder and headed towards the massive structure. Then the last soldier that was jogging past me stopped and turned to face me. I slowed down to a stop.

"You gonna tell me what this place is now, or are you guys really the Brotherhood of Charcoal?"

"Don't disrespect us like that again. We are no longer apart of the Brotherhood. This armor is our own, and they are a bunch of humanity loving pansies. No, we are the Outcast, and this...is the Outcast Outpost."

And the saga begins...

Day 11

Awesome. I can't do a proper critique right now, I just wanted to catch up from tonight's earlier conversations but I can't not read what you write. I've said it before, I'll say it again, you've got that intangible thing called "voice" writers spend countless hours trying to find in themselves and are jealous of in others.. At least in my opinion.

I know what you mean about the vanilla game thing. I don't know if the mods make Fallout any better or not. I don't see how that can possibly be but I'll never know 'cause i gots the playstation fixation. :laugh:

I hope you don't mind Ant, I don't want to hijack your thread, I wanted to just address something Yttrium posted for a sec.

Yttrium, you are a good writer. It may not flow easily like it seems to for others but you are good. You are also good at critique, and that is a thankless skill. You were very kind and generous to me when I first came on this thread and made me feel welcome enough to post my own critiques. That means something too. Hope you get the sleep you need brother.

Thanks again Ant. I'll give a more careful critique tomorrow.
:foodndrink:

I've been reloading this screen for the past few hours waiting for a reply. I always do. Right now I'm researching some deep stuff but I'd like to thank you to you and Ytt. You for being (I think) the only one who anolyses me and actually recognizes who I am -- which is an amazing talent because you have never met me. Then again, you are what you write. As for Ytt, he really needs a round of applause because it takes decency (that even 1, the nicest person of everyone I know) for you to not only want to, but actually commence in helping everyone new. Cheers to all of us. :intergalactic: :foodndrink: :fallout:

There is just one thing I don't get why are you calling them greenies?. I only have the vanilla fallout3 and they're yellow

No they're not. I think you might ned to change the contrast on your somputer. Several sources indicate that they are green:

People calling them green

Terminal logs

Screenshots

and best of all...

wikipedia

hehe...

P.S. You haven't been posting on Vault 37!!!!

Alright, so I reread and I got to say that your writing has improved so much (and so quickly) that I didn't think my skills or knowledge of writing was high enough to give constructive feedback so I had a trusted friend of mine, who is an author, help me critique this. It's that good.

Other than the odd typo or misspelling (of which there are not many) she told me that adding sensory description would heighten the story telling and give more flavor. Such as gunshot noise to remind the reader that Marcus is being shot at, maybe mention the smell of smoke or how dusty it is etc. She said it wouldn't take much. She liked it, was engaged in it,thought how and where it ended was skillful and she isn't even a Fallout fan. There was one other thing;

I poked one of my eyes out from the safety of cover,

This was the only real bit that was awkward. Maybe just say that he peeked around the corner instead of poking his eye out. That was it.

I don't know if writing is your thing or what you want to do with yourself, but brother, I would seriously consider it. My author friend agreed with me about your 'voice' and that you honestly have mad skills. Just don't forget about us if decide to branch out!

Wait, so this is a combination of you and your author mistress talking to me? That is cool. I believe that every talent given to a person is given for a reason. That reason is to use it. That said, I'd love to branch out was far as your tree would let me!

I want to reply with something witty and clever but I'm not exactly sure what you meant. No matter, just keep writing!

Well, Spitt and friend seem to have covered this pretty well, so I doubt you need my thoughts, But I would feel bad if I didn't tell you that you were doing a great job. My only advice to you right now Ant, is to make sure you re read your work, because I found quite a few typos and some misplaced word choices, for example:



A better word choice would be cue. Fit the context better.



Small stuff like this, easily fixed by a read through. I've compared the first chapter to your most recent one, and the progress is quite amazing, so keep up the good work.

Also, I would like to thank you both Spitt and Ant. I really not as nice as a person as I seem, but thank you none the less. And Spitt, you are a good artist, even if you don't think you are and I enjoy reading your comics, plus your amazing at a critique. Well, so is Ant too and I'm glad to see how active you guys have come. Keep up the good work guys. :thumbsup:

Chapter 11: Operation Anchorage

"Alright local, mind explaining what you're doing here?"

He was standing at the bottom of a ramp that led to the Outcast Outpost main floor. Or at least that's what it was supposed to be. As I said before, the place was far from finished. At the time, all it was were some red metal beams, and a shaft in the middle which I was guessing took you underground.

"Seems like this outpost wasn't yours for that long." I said.

"This outpost belongs to Protector McGraw, our leader. I, am Defender Morrill. I scout the wastes relatively close to Bailey's Crossroads, and I defend our outposts. You still haven't given me an answer, we don't usually fraternize with civilians."

Yeah, I knew what he was talking about. The reason BoS ans the Outcasts don't get along is because Mcgraw felt civilians were being given too much focus. That's when I thought about it, the perfect idea.
"You folks said earlier that y'all don't like the Brotherhood of Steel right?"

"We despise them."

"Well, they don't like me either. I need your help with a project that I don't want them to interfere with." I had to make sure I didn't give 'em too much. I still didn't trust them or their origins.

"Take me to McGraw, I'd like to speak with him." I said, now with a new solace.

"What makes you so special? You don't have the right to--"

He stopped in mid conversation, seemingly thinking about something. Then he turned back to me and said, "Right this way."

This made me even more suspicious. What was it they wanted from me? I tentatively followed him into the elevator at the center of the room. When it opened, I went in, but he didn't, which for some reason made me feel even more uneasy. On top of that the elevator lurched downwards about five feet, sending my stomach to my chest. By this time, my nerves were racked, but I kept my composure. After not too long the elevator shuddered to a stop, and the opening doors revealed someone without a helmet. I was slightly taken aback at his harsh expression, as was he at my hideous face. Because we were both shocked, there was an awkward pause before anyone said anything. That pause was further amplified by the absolute silence.

After about a year, he finally broke it. "Keep your gun holstered, your mouth shut, and your hands to yourself. Follow me." He led me around the place, which seemed to me quite sterile for these times, but after seeing the equipment, I realized it was a pre-war lab. I knew that because my mom used to have a lab like this, except it was differently colored. I always did wonder why lab people made everything white. I always hated my mother's white halls. I hated having to wipe blood off them after an experiment went wrong.

The guy in front me turned and walked through a door into a room that didn't look like the rest. This particular room looked more like organized chaos, there were trinkets and objects all over the room, but not one thing was touching another. On the front of the centerpiece was few sheets of blueprints. Of what though, I couldn't decide. That centerpiece was actually a wrap around, and in it stood the person who I pegged as the leader of the Outcasts. He had a drill sergeant cut, flat and medium height. How he got his hair to stand up, and where he could have gotten the materials from, escaped me. He looked up, noticed me, and then nodded to the other guy, dismissing him. He then paced over to me and, with a devious look in his eyes, told me:

"I can help you with the Brotherhood, but first I need your help with something."

That suspicion I had rose up from in me once again, sensing where this was going, I cautiously asked him. "What do I need to do."

He took a step closer, making the tension and suspense intensify. A slight smile played on his faced, and out uttered the words:

"I need you to assassinate the leader of China."

Wasn't what I expected



I know its short, but something happened. I'm not feeling up to writing anymore.

"I know its short, but something happened. I'm not feeling up to writing anymore."

What? Are you being serious? You mean like, tonight, or forever?

It was just for tonight. I feel better now.

Oh good. What happened? or maybe you don't want to tell. either way I'm glad you're feeling better. :twirl:

That looks yellow to me though, anyway enough off topic.



This part just doesn't read well for me, could just be personally but I think After what felt like a year would fit better

Please exscuse this quotefail, I couldn; figure out how to repair it.