What dangers lurk in these foul waters

For a moment, it seemed almost like a rustic scene: a herd of calm, two-headed cows ambled idly past Fandom's camping spot, and took up a position to graze off what little grass managed to wrestle itself loose from the ruined soil, just a few feet away.

But overnight, the cracks had increased in size, cutting through the sky. Looking upwards now, it was almost as if whatever location they were pulled towards had a halo, a small ring of friendly skies from which the blackness shot out in several directions.

Furthermore, though, this was Radscorpion country, and the people who travelled here now would do best to watch their steps...

And after that, it was on to a small hidden door in the middle of nowhere - behind which hid Vault 106.

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After the population of Rivet had ever so politely informed the Fandomites to get off their broken ship, and a certain call had been received, there was no choice now but to follow the makeshift 'path' up ahead. The rips weren't as big here, or as active; they simply formed the occasional, spidering line down towards the same central location somewhere up in the distance.

The Capital Wasteland itself never went to sleep, though. Many creatures - and opportunities - awaited in the road up ahead, along the River Potomac and into the lands where Washington suburbs would have once stood proudly.

Most houses were utterly destroyed, barring a few frames still left standing pathetically in the middle of nowhere. Only those creations built of solid concrete had survived somewhat intact, and there was no telling what they could find in there.

[[ wait for the ocd up! brainstorming/beasties post ]]

Dawn over the Capital Wasteland was in no way pretty. The sun seemed to rip itself out of the sea, nothing gradual, nothing in terms of painted colours to warn for its arrival.

From the balcony of the Bridge Tower, though, at least you had the best view.

Rivet City woke early; the Mirelurks in the Broken Bow first, noisy as they were, making the torn-off chunk of the ship groan in despair as they milled around. The human side of the ship woke just a little later. Soon, the market would be open for business.

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After several hours, the skies began to darken. Strange noises emanated from the destroyed skyline behind them, the screams of raiders and the chattering of super mutants, sometimes menacing, sometimes... less so. Still darker it got, and then the caravan below got up and left, traveling north along the Potomac River.

Only then did the nearby intercom crackle anew. "Okay, we're happy," the woman snapped, "Come on into the city. Market's open for another hour." A bridge came out on the other side, sliding slowly into place. Although the guards on the Rivet end still looked mildly suspicious, they would now let Fandom's finest in.

[[ wait for the ocd up! OOC ]]

Darkness kept its hold on those people lost for quite a while. It knew no time, it knew no place, ad if it wasn't for a tiny tremor, it would have been content to keep them. But it did tremor, and so little things started to seep out: things, but also people, cast out across the multiverse.

Above, an unforgiving sun beat a harsh pattern into the stripped ruins of the city that had once been Washington, DC. It cast its rays on the fragile new hope of the Purifier, and on all the people who spoke of miracles and ills begat on them by the Lone Wanderer. But it did not reach that part of the earth where the rip chose to dispose of its waste in pulses.

That was underground, in the remains of Anacostia Crossing Metro Station. It had been months since the last time the Lone Wanderer had paid it a visit, and now the raiders were moving back in, snarling and shouting and looking for prospective places to string 'warnings' up from the rafters.

[[ wait for the ocd up! for your leisure: brainstorming/universe info post, OOC ]]