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+--- Thread: Vault Tec Calling: Part Three (/showthread.php?tid=48172)
Vault Tec Calling: Part Three - Atara Raven - 11-13-2024
![[Image: dVGl4UR.png]](https://i.imgur.com/dVGl4UR.png)
![[Image: TrXwewa.png]](https://i.imgur.com/TrXwewa.png)
aaOver 200 years and didn't look a day past 29. Or at least it was as far as she tell. Atara's fragmented reflection stared back at from a broken bathroom vanity mirror. In disrepair, like much everything else in the abandoned ranch ranch style she had made her home, the mirror wasn't just a reflection of herself but of all the hard years Earth had endured over the centuries. It was a skeleton of itself now, finally eaten by the cancer of human ingenuity and greed. Everything was rust and relic or forgotten in time's sand.. All that considered, if a raven's foot or was hidden from her still Aegean blue eyes, she could only be content. Atara Raven was still the baddest bitch in the building, bar none.
aaCall it vain, but that reflection was all she had anymore and honestly, there quite a few generations of Vault Dwellers and more owed their very existence partly to it. She was the girl on the billboard. The poster, the commercials, you name it.
Vault Tech Venus. Classy Chassis Atty.
aaChrist sake, from what she had seen on her scavenging excursions, she still was. A symbol of bygone days before this place went to the toilet for mutated slithering shit snakes to emerge. Her vanity had punched her ticket inside a Vault. Greek genetics traded for Vault Tech cryogenics with the promise of waking to a brighter future, to a husband and to a daughter. Vanity was suppose to buying her a chance for the quintessential American white picket fence dream with a Canadian Husband and daughter and son....
....but instead, well instead it had purchased a ice bed of idleness, of a consciousness void of anything of substance and ultimately woke the Goddess back into a world of violence and death just had it had been before. It was war still....it hadn't changed. It would never change.
Aegean blue orbs took another peek into that shatter reflecting glass, the same blue orbs that had won her fame, acclaim and respect to her name. The same eyes that lured loved and friend into her sphere all that time ago and they watched with a restored glint of enthusiasm as she turned oneside to the other. Her mind fluttered from the glum memories and all she had lost to the one the thing that, in all this time, had changed.
The lonesome silence of a home void of family, friend, guest, or even foe. Atara had received visitors. Visitors that for the first time hadn't invoked that stirring in her gut called intuition that mulled her brain with suspicion or gave her reason to exercise right to bare the many new skills she had added to her beauteous repertoire of talents. She was playing host to no ghouls or nefarious nasties this day, despite how their ruff exteriors would suggest the contrary.
Best of all, they where vault people. One of those generations that had been raised by the lessons accompanied by her face adorning near every wall inside those shelters. She had in a way raised them and so perhaps she would get her family afterall.
Primming her outfit one final time in the mirror, Atara's lips found its coquettish curve and for the first time in 200 years, Vault Tech Venus was back.
aaCall it vain, but that reflection was all she had anymore and honestly, there quite a few generations of Vault Dwellers and more owed their very existence partly to it. She was the girl on the billboard. The poster, the commercials, you name it.
Vault Tech Venus. Classy Chassis Atty.
aaChrist sake, from what she had seen on her scavenging excursions, she still was. A symbol of bygone days before this place went to the toilet for mutated slithering shit snakes to emerge. Her vanity had punched her ticket inside a Vault. Greek genetics traded for Vault Tech cryogenics with the promise of waking to a brighter future, to a husband and to a daughter. Vanity was suppose to buying her a chance for the quintessential American white picket fence dream with a Canadian Husband and daughter and son....
....but instead, well instead it had purchased a ice bed of idleness, of a consciousness void of anything of substance and ultimately woke the Goddess back into a world of violence and death just had it had been before. It was war still....it hadn't changed. It would never change.
Aegean blue orbs took another peek into that shatter reflecting glass, the same blue orbs that had won her fame, acclaim and respect to her name. The same eyes that lured loved and friend into her sphere all that time ago and they watched with a restored glint of enthusiasm as she turned oneside to the other. Her mind fluttered from the glum memories and all she had lost to the one the thing that, in all this time, had changed.
The lonesome silence of a home void of family, friend, guest, or even foe. Atara had received visitors. Visitors that for the first time hadn't invoked that stirring in her gut called intuition that mulled her brain with suspicion or gave her reason to exercise right to bare the many new skills she had added to her beauteous repertoire of talents. She was playing host to no ghouls or nefarious nasties this day, despite how their ruff exteriors would suggest the contrary.
Best of all, they where vault people. One of those generations that had been raised by the lessons accompanied by her face adorning near every wall inside those shelters. She had in a way raised them and so perhaps she would get her family afterall.
Primming her outfit one final time in the mirror, Atara's lips found its coquettish curve and for the first time in 200 years, Vault Tech Venus was back.
Well shit in my face why don't you, the XWF really packed out this War Games didn't they. It's practically a super show at this point. To hell with Relentless, I mean, they had three days to pack out a card and still couldn't get this much talen........
.....wait a minute. I'm still scrolling the card.
Yeah, yeah...I retract the previous statement. No Thaddeus, no Corey, no Alias, No Centurion, no Thunder Knuckles? Let me see...
...we got Bam Miller.
He's gonna choke.
Tommy wish.
He's Gonna Choke.
Mr. Oz.
He's gonna choke.
Charlie Nickels.
There's a Universal Champion involved. He's def gonna choke.
Cypher.
Already shot himself in the foot, he done choked.
Barney Green.
He's not gonna choke.
He's gonna have a effin stroke and die. Why the hell you malakas keep clearing that man to compete?! Anywaysanywaysanyways, doesn't matter. This field is lax as fuck and full alotta dry throats going in. Bunch of thirsty bitches bout to get got.
.....wait a minute. I'm still scrolling the card.
Yeah, yeah...I retract the previous statement. No Thaddeus, no Corey, no Alias, No Centurion, no Thunder Knuckles? Let me see...
...we got Bam Miller.
He's gonna choke.
Tommy wish.
He's Gonna Choke.
Mr. Oz.
He's gonna choke.
Charlie Nickels.
There's a Universal Champion involved. He's def gonna choke.
Cypher.
Already shot himself in the foot, he done choked.
Barney Green.
He's not gonna choke.
He's gonna have a effin stroke and die. Why the hell you malakas keep clearing that man to compete?! Anywaysanywaysanyways, doesn't matter. This field is lax as fuck and full alotta dry throats going in. Bunch of thirsty bitches bout to get got.
"It is her!"
Bending even further up, the natural arch of Atara's eyebrow followed her bemused and inquiring gaze to the big hunk of T-60 power suit whose filtered voice had somehow both boomed and squee'd with a girlish delightfulness and affirmation. The expression it carried was hard to decipher and was something Atara could only describe as....excited emoji. Sat there in all it's metallic imposing glory, it dwarfed the small blonde beside it on the husk of a sofa in Atara's living room. Elbows on its knees, what could be called the chin of the helmet in its palms, this....Gamer Girl kept fixed on the Goddess' every movement.
Atara had already turned to the smaller less enthusiastic companion called Dolly. Her mirror wouldn't have been as kind to Dolly. It was the eyes, she wore the years in the eyes. "So vault is operational and occupied?" Atty quizzed in disbelief.
"The girl...with smile!"
Dolly and Atara both cut their eyes to GG's interjection while continuing, "Yes. GG here is the Overseer, she's on a rescue mission of sorts. We're in need of a reactor to keep 98 functional."
"The girl In the Towel, In the Picture!"
"So I suppose you're headed to 16?" Atara's honey rasp lost some of its luster at the assumption. 16 had been her Vault had been her Vault and she didn't want to spoil the hope laced in their voices.
"16? Your Vault," Dolly poked.
"She's real!"
"Yes. It was my vault. I woke to find it abandoned for one reason or the other. I didn't stick around much long to find out why though. Assumed reclamation had happened and for whatever reason I was forgotten." Atara attempted to explain further before GG suddenly rose to her feet!
"IT'S THE VAULT GIRL DOLLY! YOU WERE RIGHT! We've been guided here, I have been chosen! She's the Virgil to our Dante!" Our beginners tutorial guide deftly hidden has motivational and instructional work place posters!"
"Now wait a minute..." Reaching out Atara gently put a hand on GG's arm trying to calm the Overseer. "I never said that..."
"Did it have power?" Dolly asked plainly.
Atara paused in thought trying to recall, "I mean I suppose it did, the doors weren't exactly mechanical but this area is littered with ruffians.
"It Had Power!"
"She's got a power suit. I think we'll be fine and you're out here alone and know better how to get to 16 than we do. You're coming with us," Dolly's voice and found some baritone and it was clear if wasn't a real request.
Atara couldn't argue the logic, and the idea of a occupied Vault where people still knew her as the Vault Girl was highly appealing.
She nodded, "Fine. Fine. I'll help you get to 16."
"Yeah, that's the spirit Vault Girl! To 16! THEN TO 98!"
Bending even further up, the natural arch of Atara's eyebrow followed her bemused and inquiring gaze to the big hunk of T-60 power suit whose filtered voice had somehow both boomed and squee'd with a girlish delightfulness and affirmation. The expression it carried was hard to decipher and was something Atara could only describe as....excited emoji. Sat there in all it's metallic imposing glory, it dwarfed the small blonde beside it on the husk of a sofa in Atara's living room. Elbows on its knees, what could be called the chin of the helmet in its palms, this....Gamer Girl kept fixed on the Goddess' every movement.
Atara had already turned to the smaller less enthusiastic companion called Dolly. Her mirror wouldn't have been as kind to Dolly. It was the eyes, she wore the years in the eyes. "So vault is operational and occupied?" Atty quizzed in disbelief.
"The girl...with smile!"
Dolly and Atara both cut their eyes to GG's interjection while continuing, "Yes. GG here is the Overseer, she's on a rescue mission of sorts. We're in need of a reactor to keep 98 functional."
"The girl In the Towel, In the Picture!"
"So I suppose you're headed to 16?" Atara's honey rasp lost some of its luster at the assumption. 16 had been her Vault had been her Vault and she didn't want to spoil the hope laced in their voices.
"16? Your Vault," Dolly poked.
"She's real!"
"Yes. It was my vault. I woke to find it abandoned for one reason or the other. I didn't stick around much long to find out why though. Assumed reclamation had happened and for whatever reason I was forgotten." Atara attempted to explain further before GG suddenly rose to her feet!
"IT'S THE VAULT GIRL DOLLY! YOU WERE RIGHT! We've been guided here, I have been chosen! She's the Virgil to our Dante!" Our beginners tutorial guide deftly hidden has motivational and instructional work place posters!"
"Now wait a minute..." Reaching out Atara gently put a hand on GG's arm trying to calm the Overseer. "I never said that..."
"Did it have power?" Dolly asked plainly.
Atara paused in thought trying to recall, "I mean I suppose it did, the doors weren't exactly mechanical but this area is littered with ruffians.
"It Had Power!"
"She's got a power suit. I think we'll be fine and you're out here alone and know better how to get to 16 than we do. You're coming with us," Dolly's voice and found some baritone and it was clear if wasn't a real request.
Atara couldn't argue the logic, and the idea of a occupied Vault where people still knew her as the Vault Girl was highly appealing.
She nodded, "Fine. Fine. I'll help you get to 16."
"Yeah, that's the spirit Vault Girl! To 16! THEN TO 98!"
![[Image: dVGl4UR.png]](https://i.imgur.com/dVGl4UR.png%5B/img%5B/align%5D%5Balign=center%5D%5Bimg%5Dhttps://i.imgur.com/dVGl4UR.png)
Sebastian Everett Bryce...
...THE THIRD!
Ha, got him. That burn was absolutely nuclear, pun intended. We're doing this Fallout and it's really really clever to tie everything together really subtly because everyone is in on the same jokes. Being enigmatic and mysterious always scores double points on the ol Mic Work scale....
*Sarcastic silence*
Anywho, if you know you know and Sebastian will be absolutely reeling in his feelings right now...maybe.
Back to you, Dove. Look at us doing this team thing again. Real shame we're on opposing sides though. We could have finally made your dreams come true and got all dressed down, oiled up, and physical to make some magic together but noooo...you went blonde on me. Was really hoping you would be that kliq picking, politicking dick sucker that rumor around the locker room is, you really are.
*Quirked eyebrow pause*
I mean, come on, Thaddeus' best friend is also the Universal Champion in the company he manages, managed, owned, what the fuck ever.. I can't keep up with him but you get the point. I'm sure you've heard this all a hundred times before but between you me...
The XWF talent is kinda derivative and repetitious and low key jealous.
How derivative you ask?! Well, I'm pretty sure your Thaddeus already did this whole Three Mile Island nuclear dystopia theme for that Madness program he tossed away, but you know what Dove!
Those malakas can eat eggs, because I know you're not a stereotypical white British male of the OG patriarchy who has had everything handed down to him by his Thaddy, I mean daddy. Your father, don't twist this like I called Thaddeus daddy...I S T G!
Atty is your friend tho. I've been had your back since your first Twitter post and never wavered. I even PICKED YOU for MY TEAM THAT ONE TIME...
Cough cough, hint hint.
I know you're everybit the superstar you say you are. That you have earned your keep by practice, skill, and dedication. Your possibly, in my opinion, I don't know, third or fourth in the running for my husband's title as the GOAT! You're the most interesting man in Pantheon, your rubbing elbows with the highest echelon of people in our business and have every reason in the world to hold your head up high!
I'm one of your longest friends, I'm one of your bestest friends and my opinions are none hard medical facts! The locker room can gossip and be jealous, because we both know your only flaw is that...
*Pause for dramatic effect*
You're an insecure, fragile, spoiled, little British rich bitch boy. The minute something goes, the Empire folds into its dark and dank studio apartment and cries into a pillow that the last blonde he chose pissed on....
...she didn't. I'm sorry Sloan, I'm trying for edgy and controversial.
You shoves that 'Woe is Me' card up so far up your ass you have to get medically removed so your friends have to come visit to you so you can feel the love daddy didn't give you.
We literally have to rebuild your confidence like your the effin Bionic man every single time you lose your shit. Well there's no friends this time, Dove!
You went effin blonde, AGAIN! And she's not even a good one! All your friends are gonna be trying to kick your face in this go round on top of an already envious locker room! The adversity is gonna build and build because if it isn't my team. It will be my husbands or it will be Corey' or it will be Shawn's and our self absorbed twats of an ego are fatter than yours.
Well maybe not Enigmas because you know...
*Pause to flex and do Robert Frank tiktok impression*
On Wargames Day We Do Wargames. Because you if wanna get recruited to the team of a crying british qeef while he fondles your beef, your War Games better be effin swole!
*End scene*
Fucking dude is so turkey stuffed with protein shakes and tattoo ink carcinogens he doesn't know if it's the constipation or a sphincter tumor backing him to the point his 'muscle mass math is the only math to victory' bullshit flows out of that talking penis on his shoulders.
Enigma. Try enema. That's your answer to losing King Corey to Cypher in the draft? Seriously? Destructo-tron Chrome Dome Edition is an effin Tesla Robot to Corey's T-1000. We can take Corey seriously. Corey is an actual threat. Corey can take some verbal hazing. Your guy tho, he's prolly gonna wind up with you in that apartment throwing a piss baby tantrum cuz random participant said his spray tan looks uneven.
Effin Roid Zombie...eat an egg.
But Lucy tho...hey Lucy...
*Checks for James*
Thaddeus amirite? Chicken legs but allcoooodangit. You're captain doesn't like that kinda talk. I think. I'm getting alotta this information second because he doesn't talk to me much anymore. Since, we installed the boundary rule. He's a good egg. Love the good boys who conform and obey and do as their told and by no means to above and beyond expectation to achieve what they want.
Istg I'm so goddamn clever...that was smooth. Definitely smoother and more clever than that Adam Garcia pick. Creative absolutely hates that guy obviously. Let's put the guy from Spain in a PPV based on a game loosely based on WWII
with a field of smack talkers who can't conversate without flexing their non existent liberal arts political science degrees...
*pause for breath*
I hope he has thick skin because Madison Dyson is scary and y'all's self confidence is as about as low Greece's GDP was in 2012. That translates to performance Sebastian. Once my knee smacks Blondie in the skull and it it echoes around arena, or it it puts the stop to the immovable object, or it swats the Spanish Fly...don't mistake that trembling you feel as your jimmies being ruffled. That's realization, Dove. That's fear. That's adversity. Just keep calm tho...
Don't lose your head Dove. Love you, see at Christmas.
Love you.
...THE THIRD!
Ha, got him. That burn was absolutely nuclear, pun intended. We're doing this Fallout and it's really really clever to tie everything together really subtly because everyone is in on the same jokes. Being enigmatic and mysterious always scores double points on the ol Mic Work scale....
*Sarcastic silence*
Anywho, if you know you know and Sebastian will be absolutely reeling in his feelings right now...maybe.
Back to you, Dove. Look at us doing this team thing again. Real shame we're on opposing sides though. We could have finally made your dreams come true and got all dressed down, oiled up, and physical to make some magic together but noooo...you went blonde on me. Was really hoping you would be that kliq picking, politicking dick sucker that rumor around the locker room is, you really are.
*Quirked eyebrow pause*
I mean, come on, Thaddeus' best friend is also the Universal Champion in the company he manages, managed, owned, what the fuck ever.. I can't keep up with him but you get the point. I'm sure you've heard this all a hundred times before but between you me...
The XWF talent is kinda derivative and repetitious and low key jealous.
How derivative you ask?! Well, I'm pretty sure your Thaddeus already did this whole Three Mile Island nuclear dystopia theme for that Madness program he tossed away, but you know what Dove!
Those malakas can eat eggs, because I know you're not a stereotypical white British male of the OG patriarchy who has had everything handed down to him by his Thaddy, I mean daddy. Your father, don't twist this like I called Thaddeus daddy...I S T G!
Atty is your friend tho. I've been had your back since your first Twitter post and never wavered. I even PICKED YOU for MY TEAM THAT ONE TIME...
Cough cough, hint hint.
I know you're everybit the superstar you say you are. That you have earned your keep by practice, skill, and dedication. Your possibly, in my opinion, I don't know, third or fourth in the running for my husband's title as the GOAT! You're the most interesting man in Pantheon, your rubbing elbows with the highest echelon of people in our business and have every reason in the world to hold your head up high!
I'm one of your longest friends, I'm one of your bestest friends and my opinions are none hard medical facts! The locker room can gossip and be jealous, because we both know your only flaw is that...
*Pause for dramatic effect*
You're an insecure, fragile, spoiled, little British rich bitch boy. The minute something goes, the Empire folds into its dark and dank studio apartment and cries into a pillow that the last blonde he chose pissed on....
...she didn't. I'm sorry Sloan, I'm trying for edgy and controversial.
You shoves that 'Woe is Me' card up so far up your ass you have to get medically removed so your friends have to come visit to you so you can feel the love daddy didn't give you.
We literally have to rebuild your confidence like your the effin Bionic man every single time you lose your shit. Well there's no friends this time, Dove!
You went effin blonde, AGAIN! And she's not even a good one! All your friends are gonna be trying to kick your face in this go round on top of an already envious locker room! The adversity is gonna build and build because if it isn't my team. It will be my husbands or it will be Corey' or it will be Shawn's and our self absorbed twats of an ego are fatter than yours.
Well maybe not Enigmas because you know...
*Pause to flex and do Robert Frank tiktok impression*
On Wargames Day We Do Wargames. Because you if wanna get recruited to the team of a crying british qeef while he fondles your beef, your War Games better be effin swole!
*End scene*
Fucking dude is so turkey stuffed with protein shakes and tattoo ink carcinogens he doesn't know if it's the constipation or a sphincter tumor backing him to the point his 'muscle mass math is the only math to victory' bullshit flows out of that talking penis on his shoulders.
Enigma. Try enema. That's your answer to losing King Corey to Cypher in the draft? Seriously? Destructo-tron Chrome Dome Edition is an effin Tesla Robot to Corey's T-1000. We can take Corey seriously. Corey is an actual threat. Corey can take some verbal hazing. Your guy tho, he's prolly gonna wind up with you in that apartment throwing a piss baby tantrum cuz random participant said his spray tan looks uneven.
Effin Roid Zombie...eat an egg.
But Lucy tho...hey Lucy...
*Checks for James*
Thaddeus amirite? Chicken legs but allcoooodangit. You're captain doesn't like that kinda talk. I think. I'm getting alotta this information second because he doesn't talk to me much anymore. Since, we installed the boundary rule. He's a good egg. Love the good boys who conform and obey and do as their told and by no means to above and beyond expectation to achieve what they want.
Istg I'm so goddamn clever...that was smooth. Definitely smoother and more clever than that Adam Garcia pick. Creative absolutely hates that guy obviously. Let's put the guy from Spain in a PPV based on a game loosely based on WWII
with a field of smack talkers who can't conversate without flexing their non existent liberal arts political science degrees...
*pause for breath*
I hope he has thick skin because Madison Dyson is scary and y'all's self confidence is as about as low Greece's GDP was in 2012. That translates to performance Sebastian. Once my knee smacks Blondie in the skull and it it echoes around arena, or it it puts the stop to the immovable object, or it swats the Spanish Fly...don't mistake that trembling you feel as your jimmies being ruffled. That's realization, Dove. That's fear. That's adversity. Just keep calm tho...
Don't lose your head Dove. Love you, see at Christmas.
Love you.
![[Image: ZY8WfzV.png]](https://i.imgur.com/ZY8WfzV.png)