DemonHitman45's Note: Hello people of the MGE fandom! I have choosen to co-write my first ever online fanfiction to the internet with the user HeadstrongOne, in order for it to be appreciated by others, or denounced, I don't really care which. All that matters is that this was eventually made, with a surprising amount of time going into the workings of this fanfiction. Me and Head both worked on it to make sure their weren't nearly as many grammatical errors that often plaque fanfictions, but we aren't perfect, so don't be too uptight about certain things :P. I hope anyone who reads this enjoys it! Part 2 will come soon, maybe even only after a day, who knows?

HeadstrongOne’s Note: Hello MGE community. This is the first fan fiction I've ever written and may or may not continue it. I have co-authored this work with my good friend DemonHitman45 (who is also a first time writer) and was glad to have worked with him on this project. Originally this was going to be about a Cancer, but then we remembered a certain role play we did in chat and it took off from there. I hope those who read this enjoy both monster girls and the Fallout universe or some of the stuff we say may come off as confusing. Have fun reading! Give us advice if needed, we appreciate the support.

Week #: 13 Update: 4

The Wastelander and His Armor: Part I

By: HeadstrongOne and DemonHitman45


Note: Hello reader, I see you've found my memoirs and I would like to inform you that you are reading about me, Gregori Laz, the legendary hero of the City of Vania. Now don't act so skeptical and choose to simply place this down and ignore it existence while you sit on your ass and pick your nose. I simply want you and anyone else who bothers to read this to learn about my sudden appearance in this world and how I became such a legend. This explanation might seem unreal to you, but remember, everything I'm about to tell you is a 100% real! So read carefully and don't run off! Cause this is where it gets interesting...........

I fit the last piece into place, smiling at the fruit of my labors. It has been a long, arduous process, but I’ve finally done it. I’ve fought many horrible abominations, killed a good bit of raiders, crawled through the rubble of countless ruins, avoided severe radiation poisoning, and even had to pull a few favors for some sketchy pre-war organization to acquire some blueprints. I did all this for the materials necessary to complete this project. But at long last, I have a complete set of pristine X-01 Mk IV Power Armor, the finest armor to ever be developed after the Great War scorched the earth in nuclear fire. Its helmet equipped with the best optics this side of the wasteland. The  arms fitted with pneumatic fists to aid in hand-to-hand combat. Its torso reinforced with titanium plating. To top it off, the legs were calibrated to be able to lift well past the limits of the previous pre-war models. This gorgeous piece of hardware was all mine. It almost brings a tear to my eye, the efforts of countless years is right in front of me in all its glory. My thoughts are halted when suddenly I hear a loud banging on my security door. I approach cautiously, pulling my N99 pistol out of its holster and slowly opening the door to reveal the unexpected visitor. I’m surprised to see nobody there, looking around the surrounding area for anything. Unexpectedly, I hear the depowering of a Stealth Boy and turn to my right, where I’m greeted with a peculiar sight. Standing there is a lone figure in a Vault Suit, pointing a rather large weapon at my chest. I point my weapon in return, standing there confused as to why this person even bothered to knock at all, despite the obvious danger I was in. Wrapped in that thought, I see the figure smirk and then mouth a few words. I stare with no reaction on my face and ask for a repeat. The figure chuckles and retorts, “Ya didn’t even flinch an inch buddy. The info about you wasn’t kidding. You are hard to scare!” Honestly speaking, I wasn’t really given any time to react to what was occurring, but that didn’t stop the figure from assuming so. Anyway, I responded by apathetically asking who they were and why the hell they were here. The figure answered quickly with, “I have a very important job that needs to be done and require some really advanced muscle for it. I heard you were the guy for the job.” I stare blankly and ask only one thing, “What’s the pay?”. The words that came out of the figure’s mouth  would cause my jaw to practically drop to the floor, “I’m offering ya 10,000 caps for the job.” I don’t even hesitate, not even worrying of what is to come of this event. I simply wanted the caps. After all, the search for the power armor had drained my funds and it was time for it to prove its worth. Also it was 10,000 caps! I wouldn’t need to do another job for years with that pay. How could I possibly refuse?


After some time I found myself almost knee deep in a super mutant’s chest, the boot of my armor having caved it in. I didn’t know where  we were. I just knew we were underground and that the place was some old as hell facility. Me and the  figure eventually discover and approach a rusted but thick security vault door with a console on its left. The individual walks up to the control console and pulls out a wire, sticking it into a slot on the panel. I heard the sound of little knobs turning and the door lifts up slowly with wailing sounds accompanying the noise of old hinges moving after 200 years of unuse. After the door finally opens we are greeted with the sight of an even smaller door. This being a faded white slide door. I grumble and just kick it down to be greeted with a hallway of shower heads and yet another faded white door. Why all the doors? I repeat the previous action on this door and enter a large room with a raised platform in the center. There is nothing present in the room that I can detect with my scanner or Geiger counter. Feeling that it was safe enough I take off my helmet to admire the room. It was full of old, pre-war tech in pristine condition. Most of it was covered in dust, but looked like it would function if used. The tech kid inside of me practically squeals in excitement at our discovery, but I simply chose to stay silent. As I look amazed about the room I feel a sharp pain in my neck. My vision blurs and I feel myself falling to the floor. I can feel myself being dragged to the platform. The last thing I remember was being placed on the platform with a gym bag of supplies and a bright flash.


“That was nearly five years ago when I was 24.”, I say before I take a swig of the ale in front of me, its froth touching my lips. “What are these things you mention of mister?” Of course. The barmaid along with a group of listeners don’t understand my lingo. My many years of being a wastelander making me unused to the nuances of this world and I doubt they would understand anything else, so I muttered back with, “Just forget it…” I resumed my drinking until the glass was empty and set it down lightly. I proceeded to repeat this process, six times….. I drowned my sorrows in drink, the loneliness of my existence having taken its toll. Downing the final drink, I groggily pull out the money for the ale and leave, exiting the bar as quietly as any drunk man could. I walk down the road for some time until I came upon the place I called home. It was a small, squat building with five windows and little surrounding it besides a locked shed where I made my ammo and weapons. People could tell this place was mine due to the odd shiny grey finish on the house, which made it appear more like metal than stone. That always caught the eyes of visitors, whenever anybody even bothered to visit. I disregarded the thought and drunkenly pulled out my keys as I approached the door, almost tripping on the slab of stone in front of the door. I slide the key in, giving it a twist and entered my home. The interior is mostly bare, the center of the house only containing a couch, a bed, and a chest for storage. To the right is a door to the bathroom and to the left was a simple kitchen. The only thing of any value in the room, a suit of beautiful yet worn X-01 power armor stands in the corner in sight of my bed. The power of fusion cores long gone from its systems after they were used up, save for one, its use restricted solely for an event I myself could never handle without. I close the door, lock it, and walk towards the armor. Once I stand in front, I can’t help but place a hand on the chestplate and begin to reminisce about the adventure I had with it upon arriving to this strange world.  The memories are clear in my head, even with the alcohol clouding my system.


   “SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!” I scream between breaths as I’m running from some large unknown creature. Only hours ago had I just woke up finding myself in a clearing of what I presumed to be some type of tree cluster. The first thing I had see is that  the place was green, not with radioactive waste, but with plant life? The sudden realization of my situation floods my mind, “THE FUCKER KNOCKED ME OUT AND DIDN’T PAY ME!”. I stand there, stamping my foot deeper and deeper into the ground until I notice a bag and my helmet a few feet away. I pull my foot from the ground and go to retrieve both. I inspect the helmet for damage. Feeling satisfied I place the helmet on my head and open the bag to reveal its contents. Inside I find a R-91 assault rifle, a N99 sidearm, a bunch of Pork’n Beans, purified water, a dozen fusion cores for the armor, along with ammo and stims to spare. This was quite generous for having knocked me out and leaving me to die out in the open, but that didn't matter anymore. I carefully inspect each item until satisfied, placing everything except the assault rifle with a loaded mag, 2 spares, and a bottle of water back into the bag. I look around the area trying to decide which direction I should take. Thinking that this place was just an oasis in the wasteland, I head north to what I assume would bring me to civilization. I walk straight through the tree line, between bushes, and trudging over roots and grass leaving behind large footprints on the ground. The green is lasting far longer than I would have thought, why haven't I seen any ruins or signs of past civilization yet? I continue on with my thoughts, marching at a moderate pace for a while until I spot a brown speck between bushes. Alarmed by the sight, I shoulder the rifle and slowly approach the figure. I peer over the bushes to investigate. What I see confuses me beyond anything I’ve ever experienced. A sleeping woman…. But not just any woman. She had legs like that of a brahmin, but with auburn fur and horns atop her head. She even possessed a tail that swung about to and fro. She was also HUGE! Both in size and in *cough* bust, her blue overall barely capable of holding them. Not to mention being beautiful even by human standards and gorgeous compared to any other beast I’ve ever seen (I would not find out until sometime later what I met was called a Minotaur). However, my wastelander instincts kicked in, making me slowly back away from potential danger. Then she began sniff. She must have smelled my presence because her eyes shot open immediately and looked directly at me. She seemed curious at first, appearing quite confused at seeing a walking piece of armor possessing the scent of her interest. Despite her uncertainty, she came right up to me and began to grind against my armored leg speaking softly into my helmet, “You smell good like a man, but are you man?”  I don’t know how she got this close to me while on my guard, but she didn't seem to mean harm at the time. Her rather large mammaries must have distracted me. Yeah, that was probably it. However, when she said that, my sarcastic attitude kicked in. This caused me to answer back harshly, “Of course I’m a man, what else could I possibly be?” She DID NOT answer the question. She just became very giddy, raising her arms in a triumphant pose and even did a little victory dance for a few seconds. Unfortunately, What she would do next surprised me. She lunged at me, bowling me over and sending the rifle away from my person. Now on top of me, she reached for my helmet, her green eyes full of what I could only assume was hunger……. Oh Crap! I put my hands on her hips causing her to moan loudly…. Wait….. Moan!? Predators don’t moan over a prey and they certainly don’t mount them! A woman does that while she is being pleasured… wait a minute..... is this chick turned on!? Nope. Just nope. This wastelander ain’t fucking no brahmin lady today! I grab her harder and toss her over me causing her to land in some bushes nearby, thanks mostly in part to the strength enhancement of my armor. I quickly look around and spot the rifle several feet away. I dash to it and pick it up, never stopping to check on the girl to see if she was alright. I got my answer five seconds after asking myself. She chased my figure with her roars of unfulfilled lust flooding my ears full of her carnal desire. Now knowing well her true intentions, I ran at a breakneck pace. The calibrated shocks added speed to my flight. This continued for some time until she collapsed under her own exhaustion having given up on her prey. Satisfied that I had escaped from a near experience of the rape kind, I slowed my pace to a jog. Luckily I was able to come upon a dirt road that looked like it had seen recent use. There were wheel tracks coming from both directions. I took a guess and decided to head left.  I was glad I went this direction, because it would lead to a very odd town.


My hand still on the chest plate I remember it’s the armor’s weekly clean and polish. The routine was something I started out of the love for the armor in order to show my gratitude for it, although it has been a long time since its given anything in return. Funny, I’m almost treating it like a father would its child, or maybe how a lover spoils his significant other, but I digress. I would always get the best supplies for the armor, even going so far as to buy the most expensive polish they have at the best blacksmith in town. First, I clean the majority of the dust collected on the outside of the armor, wiping at every visible spot on it. I got in its nooks, its crannies, and I even cleaned the entire interior despite the fact that it has been unused for 3 and a half years. I then proceed to take out polish and lightly scoop up some in a well used rag. After all, I didn’t want to spill any and this stuff was expensive, nearly 20 silver in all. While polishing I resumed my reminiscing of the past, continuing with  the town and its inhabitants.


“What is it? Is it a monster? Has it come to take this village’s men?” I was getting very annoyed…. I stood at the gates of the town with the whole populace in front of me. They all wore strange clothes like those from the medieval books that I had managed to scavenge back where I was from. The first person to speak wasn’t me, but an average sized man with brown hair and beard tinged with the grayness of age.I assume that this man must be the leader of these people. “Who are you and what is your purpose here monster!?” Just realizing that he has just called me a monster, I had concluded something. They think I’m a monster in this armor. Got to do something to prove I’m human. I proceed to put the rifle on my back, causing the population to freeze in terror. Not caring anymore, I then lift the helmet off my head with a resounding pop. A person in the front of the crowd shouts in surprise, “It’s a human man! Oh thank goodness.” A visible sigh of relief is seen among the citizens. I ignore the crowd and speak to the man, “Is this how you treat all your visitors?” The man responds to my question with, “I’m sorry sir, but we just don’t get much new people out here at the borders, much less a man in huge, inhuman looking armor.” I can’t help but feel a bit angered about him calling my armor inhuman, but I shrugged it off. The man then states,“I humbly apologize and hope I can compensate this inconvenience by kindly offering you stay at my home for the night.” I think about my options. Sleep in the woods with the brahmin lady running about, sleep outside in a town I’ve never been in and be robbed, or sleep in this man’s house. Yeah…. Let’s pick option three. I put on my best smile and answer in the kindest voice I could muster, “I would be honored to stay at your place.” He seemed to beam with happiness at having found a way to apologize. He gestured towards the center of town  saying, “Follow me then good sir.” I put my helmet back on and follow him through the crowd. Their eyes bored a figurative hole in me as they followed us to his home. I walked with him all while observing the architecture of the town. Stone and wood seemed to compromise all of the houses within the walls. Each one of them built practically and functioned as suitable homes for their residents. I continued to do this until we arrived at our destination. It was a one floor building of good length made entirely of wood. It was better made than some of the buildings around the town, but not much better. The crowd had dissipated by the time we had arrived leaving us alone in front of his house. “The name is Kristo Geer  Chief Elder of Vania, welcome to my home!” I looked at his door and noticed that I would not fit with my armor on, so I kindly asked him where I could store my stuff. He smiled and answered, “There’s a small building out back with a lock on it. You can use it to store that odd armor of yours.” Again with the insulting of my suit? People need to learn to respect a man’s possessions. That night left me with many questions, but they all disappeared as I fell asleep on the first soft bed I had ever slept in.

End of Part 1

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