Foalout 4 - Sanctuary Hills – Chapter 1 - By Lothmar

Upon emerging from the vault you promptly proceeded to ‘process’ your grief by scrapping your old home and most of the other structures that were deemed non-viable due to being more difficult to repair then build from scratch. You couldn’t stand looking at your house and thinking of what was…

What started with a few walls, some basic defenses and the minutemen you saved soon became the scrapyard that you sent most of your goods to over your campaign through the commonwealth. You were uncertain if you had developed a hording mentality as a coping mechanism but in your mind it was certainly healthier then substance abuse.

At a certain point you start looking for ways to keep yourself entertained. You kept yourself busy for what felt like years. In the past it was easy, plenty of raiders, super mutants, rampaging robots and aberrant abominations to blast a bloody swath through. They still exist but hardly to the same extent or sense of challenge and fulfillment to exterminate as they used to be ; it’s barely an experience. Hell there’s hardly a time when you respond to a settlements call for help that your automated settlement defenses and robot guards haven’t already handled, plenty of junk to pick over and disassemble at least. Idle hands and whatnot.

Society had started coalescing behind the minutemen as a face of personal responsibility with you as a figurehead. Between that and the institute controlling things both behind the scenes and not so behind the scenes these days after sinking the Prydwin the commonwealth was beginning to feel a lot more wealthy then common. The railroad was a shadow of its former self and while you understood their motives you occasionally busted a few newly established safe houses and agents. Those you couldn’t talk into abandoning the cause for something far more practical you had banished from the commonwealth with your power and influence.

You had grown bored with things though and had secluded yourself to your scrapyard, Sanctuary hills. No settlers lived here now, you had sent Preston and all of the minutemen to their own Castle having reclaimed it for them long ago. Most of the houses had been converted into storage warehouses to sort things by category for space saving and efficiency.

At most you received the occasional delivery of scrap and goods you imported and exported to and from your various settlements throughout the commonwealth. One house converted to a pickup hub for storing the outgoing and incoming goods and the other as a comfortable flop house for a night. A Mr. handy robot bartender there to mix and serve complimentary refreshments (within reason) at a drink stand. The triangular enclosure and the secondary set of gates that only the sole survivor was allowed through gave this area a somewhat killbox feel so traders rarely stayed longer then a night. Many instead opting to head slightly down the road to the homey Red rocket gas station with its many stands, vendors and bits of entertainment that had been built and installed by yours truly. If you wanted company, it was a short walk to socialize with common people, or a simple teleport if you wanted a cleaner more intellectual interaction at the institute.

You had just finished buffing your power armor to a decent shine when you heard the telltale sound of ‘ratta tat tat’ from your gun turrets. You sighed and decided to not mess up your clean power armor and stripped off your crafting coat, hat and jack and put on a basic combat helmet and sunglasses. Exiting your garage and walking to the southwestern walls you sprang up the wooden stairs to the roof of the exterior building that had been firing. The turrets still seemed to be tracking something but they weren’t firing yet, probably something you hadn’t blacklisted to outright kill so they’d track movement and keep an eye out for hostile behavior.

“Stupid buggie munstah go fowebah sweepies.” You heard followed by a soft ‘crunch’ sound, you cocked your brow curiously as you crested the edge of the roof and there this thing was… A colorfully furred micro horse stood triumphantly attempting to stomp the chitin of a bloatfly that the turrets had perforated. You panned the horizon just to make sure this wasn’t a distraction, there had been plenty of assassination attempts in the past. Suddenly your attention shifted down the hill to a shrill screech.

“Screeee!!! Hewp, Speciaw fwiend, HEWP!”

The gunfire had drawn some more of bloatflies from the river to investigate in this direction and in doing so they had come across easy prey. Unfortunately they were too far for the turrets to shoot accurately so they simply pivoted uncaringly searching for proper targets.

“Don worry speciaw fwiend, fwuffy gib buggy monsters forebah sweepies.” The confident creature with an Autumn gold and a red mane declared only for its foot to push through a bullet wound and cause them to lose their footing. They tripped and flipped ass over tea kettle and now the bloat flies corpse rested atop them as they screamed to be let go.

“Guess it’s up to me, as usual.” The sole survivor sighed as they sprinted to the edge of the roof and performed a long jump as they tucked and rolled down the incline until they managed to stop themselves on a somewhat flat piece of ground overlooking the scene. The sole survivor sprang up into a kneeled position quick drawing the redeemer and time seemed to slow as you watched a trio of bugs hovering in a circular pattern peppering the nearby shore with their barbed grubs. No sooner had you decided the arc of your fire did things seem to end. One shot to the head and one to the body of each just to be sure as each of the insects domes imploded followed by their bodies bursting into chunks as they rotated through the air. You took a moment to waste one more bullet as you shot through the body of the one corpse allowing the trapped fluffy to pull itself free, if slightly messier for it.

You gingerly walk in the direction of the terrified creature as you swap to a fresh magazine. “Don worry special fwiend, fwuffy sabe you!” came a voice from behind him as you hopped down to creak side and too a peak at the hole. “Eeep, human! Pwease no huwt, am soon mummah.” You sigh taking out a sack ad you pull the barbed larva out of the ground and tie off the bag, you might use them later for something. The creature in the hole was a Sandy colored fur with a clay colored mane, a decent camouflage for the surrounding compared to their mate. Both earthies with no other discernable features, not that you knew that.

“Right~” the sole survivor replied not sure what to make of the idea of talking animals, even if they had a speech impediment it was certainly interesting. Not the wackiest thing he’d seen in these wastelands though. “It’s ok little momma, I wont hurt you.” As you say this while leaning down you hear a “No huwt speciaw fwiend!” followed by a sudden thud and feeling of weight between your shoulder blades. Apparently the autumn gold had leapt from above and onto him and was now striking him with blows that made you wonder if you’d feel anything even if you weren’t wearing light armor.

“Hey hey, woah there.” You say standing up. “None of that, I just saved your friend here from bloatflies.” The fluffy goes tumbling onto the sand and stands up to face you. “There’s no more danger unless you make it for yourself.” You add with your pistol slightly at the ready, your body emitting a slightly terrifying presence that seemed to cow the fluffies previous bit of bravery and caused them and the mother to violently shit.

You sighed and holstered the weapon.

“You can stay here if you want but there’s a chance more bugs or dogs could find you.”

“Nu wike bawky monstahs.” The two said in unison as the male crept around you and into the burrow to squeeze in next to her and give her a hug. You were almost tempted to scare them a little more by telling them the hole was a molerat burrow that you’d recently cleared out last week but you weren’t feeling particularly malicious.

“If you want to keep living outside, feel free to make a nest close to the walls over there and the turrets will probably deal with anything dangerous.” You add with a pause as you take off your sunglasses and look at the child like eyes staring back at you that punches you right in the feels as one of them said “If wan wive outside?” the male added looking to its special friend who seemed to realize what they were thinking and nodded. Oh wait . . . Did you mean to~

“Fwuffies can wive inside with scawy mistah?”

Uggggggghhhhhhh . . .


I did not know I wanted a story of fluffies invading the sole survivor’s Sanctuary Hills yet here we are. Thank you. :grin:


Wasn’t sure which fallout to use, I settled for 4 since New vegas felt like it’d be pretty hard for fluffies to survive.


Considering the heat and all the munstahs… yeah, should a fluffy arrive in the Mojave desert they’d be lunch before they even got the chance to scree. :wink: