Kristin BlamCo: Lost -- A retrospective:
"Another tale of the past"
The remains of a crumpled Vertibird was scattered across the Wasteland, the terrible sound of the aircraft's blades scraped against the ground, etching scars into the dirt and sending screams of howling metal for all those near enough to hear. As fate would have it, nobody was around to recount the tale of what had just occurred, only Kristin BlamCo -- currently waist-deep in a Super Mutant Behemoth's chest cavity -- coughed and nearly choked on blood that did not belong to her. Something solid was pushing into her sternum, recognising it as the hilt of her sword, Kristin hoisted herself up from the the sickly innards of the dead Behemoth, only to tumble to the ground. With a hand still firmly gripping her sword, both person and weapon were sent sprawling to the dusty ground, the smell of smoke wafted through the air -- only masked by the stench of a nearby dead mutant.
What felt like an hour had actually turned into two, since Kristin had lost consciousness while she waited for the stimpack to knit together a few of her more superficial wounds. Opening her eyes, a clear blue sky welcomed her, while the waft coming from a street-side vendor filled the air with the smell of cooked meat. Scrambling to her feet, the Confused Princess looked upon the distant buildings that dotted the horizon, the paved road beneath her feet was cracked and warm. A cold hand touched her shoulder, "Hey Smoothsk -- Hey!", the old woman pointed, "Hey, everybody! It's that BlamCo Believer!". A roar of laughter exploded from the crowd. A crowd? Yes, a crowd of people had seemingly popped into existence, having gone unnoticed by Kristin.
Kristin looked on in confusion, her head was pounding and her armor was hanging loosely off of her body. Feeling frail, she tugged at her chest piece to ease her breathing, what her hand touched was bone. In horror, Kristin looked down at her own body -- skin mottled and sickly white, bone exposed beneath the incomplete loose-fitting armor, her blade was a charred black and her breathing was raspy.
Scrambling for a reflective surface, a nearby window exposed the horrors of what had befallen the Heiress. Beneath the wispy golden hair, was a skeletal face, peering back with jaw open in horror as she realised what she had become. A Ghoul.
"Give it up, Relic.", the old ghoul chided, "BlamCo is long gone. Best put your eggs in another basket."
---
"Valkyrie! Answer me!!"
A voice exploded into her earpiece, waking up the wounded Heiress. Kristin looked around for the crowd, yet none was to be found.
"I am not a mere relic!"
"Huh? What are you -- Kristin! Are.You.Okay!?"
"Where am I?"
"That's what I would like to know. Describe your surroundings."
"Mountains. Dead Behemoth -- bigger than usual. Vertibird crash."
"Y-you killed it? You got the bastard?! -- ", swearing and what sounded like someone choking back tears echoed through the earpiece, "Okay okay okay. We just thought -- "
"How long have I been here?"
"12 hours. We were -- oh shit -- have you eaten anything today?"
A seemingly innocuous question, if not unexpected. "Stay.where.you.are."
"I'll do that. I'm not feeling like myself, Bianca."
---
"Bianca?"
" --- It's Sable. Just stay where you are, okay?"
The headset clicked off. Kristin collapsed to one knee, bracing herself on the hilt of her sword while it was plunged into the ground point first. She had killed the Swan-Killer. It had been a two week-long hunt, each remaining member of the BlamCo Sisterhood had taken up arms to slay the beast that had attacked the New Vegas wall. Unfortunately, a younger sister, Bianca -- a sniper -- had not survived the odd Behemoth's subterranean attack. An oddity among oddities, this Behemoth had learned to burrow under ground with terrifying ease -- it's skin hardened, scarred and knit together to form a unique armor after years of abuse from the harsh terrain had made this a formidable opponent. Kristin BlamCo decided to requisition a recovered Brotherhood Vertibird, set it to auto-pilot and prepared to attack the Behemoth from the sky. She got her wish, although the Behemoth wanted to bring her down to his level as well. A well-placed thrown boulder had marked the end of the Vertibird's flight, apparently the noise was irritating the Behemoth, and Kristin dove head first, sword pointed towards her opponent and descended to meet her opponent at a frightening speed. Unknown the Kristin, her sword being a bladed version of the Super Sledge, had displaced most of the impact with the kinetic device, punching through the skull, ribs and finally burying the grief-stricken sister into the torso of the monster.
Being air-dropped into victory, Kristin's recklessness had nearly cost her her life. Even more so, her sanity -- induced by the lack of Dairy intake -- was taking a formidable toll on her. Kristin could not savor this victory, she begged for the voice in her ear to snap her back to the reality she had known -- but her pride wished not to reveal this weakness to her sisters. Instead, Kristin's view of her surroundings quite literally changed as time had passed.
A desert had become a scorched wasteland. Surrounded by ghouls who paid her no heed, the mottled hand on her sword told her that she was one of them. The scorched wasteland shifted to a bustling pre-war city, her appearance seemed anachronistic, although everyone had shunned her -- their words spoke of betrayal and association with the enemy. Conspiracy theories filled her ears, radiation poisoning caused her stomach to churn, the sensation of her armor being charred mixed and matched in a matter of moments.
Distant shouts could be heard, although she could not discern what reality she had belonged to.
Her only memory after that was waking up in a decontamination room. BlamCo-issue.
...but she was home.
She had avenged her sister, but at what cost?
[hr]
Kristin BlamCo || Megaton
"Onwards to Springvale"
"I cannot say that I find it the most sound of courses, given what we know," Jonathan finally said, diplomatically, "But we're getting ahead of ourselves. We are supposed to meet a contact in Springvale. We can discuss this after we learn more from them."
"Right.", She could blush. But SHE was a Dairy Princess, not some giggling schoolgirl. Nevertheless, she had honestly forgotten that they had to meet someone. Kristin was more preoccupied with getting to work than following the steps in order to get there. She stood there with a look of silly determination, as if she wanted to prove herself even more.
He turned away from her, eyes fixed on the road ahead. "If that's how you feel about the matter, I am not one to stop you."
"Don't get me wrong, Pugilist.", Kristin started lightly, regretting her words from earlier, "I am concerned about our partnership. But not for the reasons you might think. We have a tremendous task on our hands! And I am eager to put your mind and my blade in the correct places. I have no wish to be associated with the Organisation of Helmeted Shame for longer than I have to. -- I just want us to walk into this with her heads screwed on right and our backs available if either of us need the support.", she chirped cheerfully.
"After all, if you've a task to do, it's better to do it than live in fear of it." And took the first step.
"Speaking of which.", Kristin quickened her pace to match Jonathan's, "My sword. I would like you to take a look at it. You worked with weapons, yes? I don't want her to be damaged." It was big deal for a Valkyrie to offer her weapon to an outsider. Then again, classical poems of the Valkyries had depicted mighty Choosers of the Slain to attempt to form a strong bond with men of perceived renown. "And what of your friend? Miss Black and her Father, you haven't said a worse since...I thought you would be quite cheerful after meeting a man back from the Moon. -- It's where the mightiest go when they die.", adding that last part, Kristin looked as if she had said something profound and wise-beyond-her-years. She looked particularly pleased with herself. "Remind me, who are we meeting -- and why -- again?"
Steel armor clunked onto a cracked road. This had signalled Kristin's first step back into Springvale.
