One of the things I've been trying to do is not demolish any more property than I have to... well, any more property belonging to innocent bystanders. Criminal property is fair game. It's part of the balance for the whole 'powerful, but locked into overkill' bit- I've made myself naturally predisposed to overkill, but I'm the sort of person who doesn't want to use it in most situations.
Also trying not to have a body count, but that's a good bit easier. Lucky for me that my first major enemy uses drones, innit?
**********
When I did reach the mining town, right on the edge of the bubble, I found it surprisingly familiar. Feels like the Old West by way of Fallout. Well, when you want to find an outlaw in the West, you go to the saloon. Sounds like a plan.
The saloon... well, the nearest saloon... was basically what the style of the town had led me to expect. Architecturally, it was pure Old West- swinging doors, stools, bar against the wall, and everything. The slapdash, rusting metal walls, flickering holographic windows (and door, now that I looked closer), and repurposed-scrap furniture gave the lie to that, though, as did the clientele.
Well, judging from the muscles, the dirt, and the shabbiness of them, I managed to happen upon a miner bar... in a town full of miners. Big surprise. I don't think I'll find my targets hanging out in a miner bar- they seem more like-
"What do we have here!" A heavy hand landed on my shoulder; turning my head, I saw one of the locals, his tanned, leathery face twisted into a smirk.
Shut up, you! Can't you see I'm deep in thought?
"Looks like we've got ourselves an outsider! Ooooh, and a fancy one, too!" He looked my outfit over, whistling in mock-appreciation. "What's a fancy-pants nob like you doin' in a Digger bar?"
I scowled, brushing his hand off my shoulder. You just had to mess up my jacket. Now I'm going to have to refresh it again! "Leaving." With that, I turned my head back, and tried to head for the door, only for a couple of other miners to stand up and block my path.
"I don't think so." He laughed at this; a few other miners (the brighter ones) in the crowd chuckled along. "You didn't pay the entry fee." Now all the miners got what was coming, and joined in on the laughter.
So that's the way you want to play it, huh? Always wanted to try this. Stopping, I slowly turned to face the miner who'd been harassing me, a look of (faked) incredulity on my face. "Are you... robbing me?"
The miner let out a deep belly laugh. "You're a little slow, aren't ya, kid? You're damn right this is a robbery! Whatever you've got- hand it over!"
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.
Also trying not to have a body count, but that's a good bit easier. Lucky for me that my first major enemy uses drones, innit?
**********
When I did reach the mining town, right on the edge of the bubble, I found it surprisingly familiar. Feels like the Old West by way of Fallout. Well, when you want to find an outlaw in the West, you go to the saloon. Sounds like a plan.
The saloon... well, the nearest saloon... was basically what the style of the town had led me to expect. Architecturally, it was pure Old West- swinging doors, stools, bar against the wall, and everything. The slapdash, rusting metal walls, flickering holographic windows (and door, now that I looked closer), and repurposed-scrap furniture gave the lie to that, though, as did the clientele.
Well, judging from the muscles, the dirt, and the shabbiness of them, I managed to happen upon a miner bar... in a town full of miners. Big surprise. I don't think I'll find my targets hanging out in a miner bar- they seem more like-
"What do we have here!" A heavy hand landed on my shoulder; turning my head, I saw one of the locals, his tanned, leathery face twisted into a smirk.
Shut up, you! Can't you see I'm deep in thought?
"Looks like we've got ourselves an outsider! Ooooh, and a fancy one, too!" He looked my outfit over, whistling in mock-appreciation. "What's a fancy-pants nob like you doin' in a Digger bar?"
I scowled, brushing his hand off my shoulder. You just had to mess up my jacket. Now I'm going to have to refresh it again! "Leaving." With that, I turned my head back, and tried to head for the door, only for a couple of other miners to stand up and block my path.
"I don't think so." He laughed at this; a few other miners (the brighter ones) in the crowd chuckled along. "You didn't pay the entry fee." Now all the miners got what was coming, and joined in on the laughter.
So that's the way you want to play it, huh? Always wanted to try this. Stopping, I slowly turned to face the miner who'd been harassing me, a look of (faked) incredulity on my face. "Are you... robbing me?"
The miner let out a deep belly laugh. "You're a little slow, aren't ya, kid? You're damn right this is a robbery! Whatever you've got- hand it over!"
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.