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Description:

Auto-imported from (1981974)

[As requested, here is Padi's backstory] My name is Padi Pillow, I was born in March 29, 2057, before the bombs dropped. Back then, the world wasn't really exciting to live on, the heat of war was escalating too quickly. My husband and I served together in the war, on one of the frontlines in Alaska, we were part of an assault team with T-51 armor during the Anchorage Reclamation. I was still too young back then, but I wasn't going to stay idle while the red menace kept growing stronger and stronger. When we got back together to the US, I got married, and moved over to the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, more specifically, Sanctuary Hills. The years to come had been peaceful, and on 2076, I was blessed with my first son after I had a rather… fun time a year before on a park walk. Then, finally, what everyone feared the most came on 2077, when the nuclear warheads were fired indiscriminatelly everywhere, killing thousands with it's giant fire wrath. Luckly for us, our service on the army got us a reserved space on one of those damned vaults, Vault 111.

We made a run for it, as the world slowly began to go to hell, and mere seconds after we got down, the nuclear fire surrounded Sanctuary Hills. The dwellers down there already had everything set up for us, saying that they would decontaminate us before we went deeper into the vault, but they froze us in place inside some sort of cryogenic cameras for Luna-knows-what reason.

I don't even know how much time passed, but I woke up. The vault system kept alerting about how the cryogenic chambers failed due to power, or something like that, so I was finally free from my ice prison. Yet, as I stood out and into the hallways, I kept looking for my husband and my son, Shaun. I couldn't recall seeing them leaving before me, so they had to be somewhere around, right?

I kept looking and looking, until I realized than it was worthless. They were gone, and everyone else was…dead. So I just sat there, next to a chamber, I didn't had a plan.
What have I stepped in to? What mysterious, foreign, dystopian scape? Is this real life? Am I awake? What is to bear? And what for? Sweat and toil, lingering creatures. Unknown shadows in the night, to my sight add unpleasant feature.
Going home — my biggest desire — what is it though? My old place: they chase me with fire. Can there what I assume be home in those wastes before me, if I just roam?
I know only there is a piece of home. A piece of heart, my heritage in these dunes, a personal part.
Why did he leave? And why do I follow, into this sacred hollow? Instinct calls me to travel this place. In hopes I will find what I might chase.


Upvotes at import: 34 | Stars at import: 25
Posted previously at: 2019-03-10T06:03:26 | Posted previously by: Defector

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