First things first; before we get into our good ol adventure below, I'm going to address two things from previous posts. Please and thank you in advance for your patience.
1. No Automatron, just yet. Why? Well, Earlier this week, I loaded up Fallout 4 to try and get a headstart on this whole shindig, and Automatron was where I beelined for; you can start it at level 15, and I had just hit 15. I am also playing on Survival Mode, and Automatron is very, very, VERY hard. I completed it on my regular playthrough previously, at level 91, and it was (very fun!) but tough. Even with some great gear, it's a challenge, and I'm afraid to say that in this IDFSG run, I'm not up to it. Yet. We'll get there, you and I, dear reader! We'll get there. Let's keep this dream alive!
2. Still on the old Survival Mode, right now. I know I said as of last post that it'd be the last of that, but Bethesda still hasn't released the update to Survival Mode 2.0 yet. I do know that they've updated the beta for it, so I guess its still getting fine-tuned. We'll see once it releases, but with this particular episode and the amount of Quicksaves I've had to do, its not looking too good for keeping in Survival Mode at all. Who knows. We'll see! This is an adventure and then some, and we're all in this leaky, rusted over, irradiated boat together! Hold my hand, Rose! Don't give up! I never watched Titanic so y'know, other inspirational quotes from that, or whathaveyou.
Anyways here's Wonderwall.
Alright! We got all that out of the way, let's get on with today's installment! Barring going on to Automatron content, I've been tasked to find a Courser! Coursers are essentially The Institute's boogeymen. Think like a Terminator. Y'know what, EXACTLY a Terminator. Big leather outfits, sunglasses and android bodies and all. All they're missing is a thick Austrian accent; which I'm sure somebody's made a mod for that already. There's a mod for EVERYTHING already. Want, nay NEED phat dongs in Fallout 4? Go check the Nexus. Pretty sure there's something up there already.
So. Enough about erections (FOR NOW.) we need a courser; but more specifically, we need a chip inside his head that allows encrypted access to the 'Classical Music' radio channel, as that's what the Institute uses to broadcast across the Commonwealth and get in/out of the Institute proper. So I'm off to the ruins of C.I.T.! (MIT really, I guess they didn't OK the branding.)
|"Followin' the signal."|
Basically, we start off on the campus ruins, tuning our radio to the Courser's signal, and slowly creep in on 'em as the signal gets stronger. This of course starts us on campus, but takes us through the Cambridge borough and y'know; danger.
|"I crush your head."|
Consumate use of Molotovs, Dogmeat takedowns and headshots get me through this little raider encampment that lied between me and the Courser signal. In faithful Me-ness, I of course departed on this adventure without restocking supplies; neither ammo OR health items. Live off the land, they said! Oh wait that's Stardew Valley. Of which I've been playing absurdedly too much of. But that's neither here, nor there. Raiders get dealt with, 'cause they got to git got, and get gotten they done did. I killed'em s'what I'm sayin'.
|"Beep. Beep. Beep. - Sputnik"|
Courser signal brings us to Greentech Labs. Whatever this building was pre-war, its in ruins now. And its also infested with Gunners. Gunners, you might ask, are what Raiders are if they decided to get their shit together, and instead of wearing rusty pipes for armor, raided old pre-war military installations and used that equipment instead. They're FAR more organized, and in this scenario, someone, presumably a squad leader, is calling the shots over the intercom. As soon as I walk in, He's directing Gunners to assault the Courser, and whoever's faffing about to halt the new element; i.e. Me, in my tracks.
|"So this is what a single-payer system looks like."|
+2% Limb damage? I'll take it! Anything helps, and I need all the help I can get right now. I'm an idiot, and the torture I endure is proof positive of this idiocy.
I have to get creative a lot, using corridors and line-of-sight to goad my targets into bottlenecks, but so-far so-good. First floor goes off with little to no snags.
|"Fuck you, a missile launcher, really!?"|
Yes really. This asshole on the upper catwalk has a missile launcher, and is absolutely not shy at all about using it in tight quarters. I really have to get creative here, so while hidden behind the station here, I send Dogmeat up ahead. This gets their attention, but I'm still HIDDEN/CAUTION. Dogmeat's off in the other room, presumably dealing with some Gunners, I'm not paying attention. All I'm doing is making sure Rocketman there in the top-left corner of that picture, is not looking towards me, as I pop my Stealth Boy; which thankfully makes me invisible for a small period of time.
JUST long enough to cross my catwalk, and get out of line-of-sight of being missiled in the face. Which considering the 3 previous reloads I had to do, is not fun. I do find myself VERY clever though; and give Dogmeat a good pet-pet because he too is a clever little booper dooper snooper ooooooh puppy squeeze-squeeze.
|"Story of my life, right there."|
And here begins a slog of turning corners, and being chucked Molotovs at me. The combat rifle I have with the scope is good enough to allow me one or two headshots in before I gotta dodge incoming fire. At that point I either need to actively get out of said fire, because molotov, or pray Dogmeat does a takedown and I can just unload into the dude while he's otherwise occupied by a dog trying to bite his dick off.
I'd be occupied if a dog were trying to bite my dick off, nah'mean.
|"Rocketman. We meet again."|
There he is. That sumbitch. immediately behind them, between them and me, really; is a corridor that loops all the way to me. And Mr. Rockets there patrols something like 3/4 of that entire distance. Time to hatch a shitty plan once more.
See that red doorway to my immediate right? Well the gunner in there had a Stealth Boy, and some frag mines. Thus began Operation: Stealth Bomb. Send Dogmeat into the fray to occupy at least one of them, hopefully get Rocketman to shoot into melee and cause some serious collateral damage. Dogmeat's invincible and I'm not, so F that noise of sparing the dog a death, he'll get better.
Then, while they're all occupied by the dog, Stealth Boy in, drop the mines, and then back out before getting caught. From there its a matter of shooting a mine, or letting them trip them naturally.
I lucked out, and when they DO trip the mines, Rocketman gets it. HARD. The Legendary Gunner leading that particular pack though, doesn't. He does mutate and regenerate ALL his hitpoints though.
Well I was saving this Pulse grenade for a Hail Mary type play anyways; alley-oop!
Tadaaaa! Time to loot.
|"Never forget our heroes."|
|"HP gettin' low with dem boots wit da furrrrrr."|
|"It's like MIB's 'Noisy Cricket' gun. But made of garbage."|
Now armed with a missile launcher, I decide that close-quarters combat is a SPLENDID idea, while at low-HP and facing down like 3 gunners in some corridors. NO Stimpaks left, or food/water. Why? because I'm a fucking GOON that's why. At this point its a reload-fest of firing point blank and hoping the explosion doesn't hit me, hiding behind a corner and repeating said pattern until they're dead and I'm not.
|"And stay dead!"|
Well it worked, at least. My HP bar is about a pixel's worth long. Let's go see what that's like numerically.
|"♫ One is the loneliest number ♫"|
Gulp. I manage to find a single solitary Stimpak, but the rest of the way past that specific elevator is without enemies, save for the Institute Courser. I have the first Medic! rank, so Stimpaks replenish 40% of my health instead of the base 30%, but this still won't end well.
|"He seems talkative; maybe he's benign?"|
Nope. Nope nope nope. The second I tell Mr. Z2-98 whatever his name was that I was here for the dongle in his brain, he gets all uppity, and goes hostile. Then uses a Stealth Boy.
I've got a few Molotovs that I've scavenged off of the dead Gunners, and a single solitary frag grenade left. So while I'm ducking behind this large piece of electronic equipment as a source of cover, I'm letting the fire uncloak my enemy long enough to get some VATS headshots in, and pray that I don't need to use my last Stimpak mid-fight.
I do though. And thanks to that quickfire Laser pistol I found last session, I manage to take down the Courser without having to resort to a giant mechanical press OR smelter. Suck on THAT, Sarah Connor. UNH.
|"No fate but what -I- make of it, bitch."|
|"Looks like something Uhura would have in her ear."|
Turns out the Courser was here because he was tracking down a Synth gone rogue; which is what they do. Coursers that is. This poor Synth just got caught by the Gunners first, and they were unfortunate bystanders to the Courser's desire to rapatriate said fugitive Synth. It's all very Bladerunner-y and Terminator-y and I like it. It's really good! Also the Gunners get dead which I also liked. 5/7 would shoot again.
Jenny's grateful that I got her out of there, but not TOO grateful. She just immediately bolts once I open the door for her, not wanting to get mixed up in anything I'm about. I don't blame her, she just saw me tear through an entire Gunner platoon AND a Courser, just to get his USB dongle. Jenny knows what the fuck is up with my badassery and chooses wisely to not get in my way.
I can respect that! Anywho. Getting her out of there gets me enough EXP for a level! 16 baby yeah! What shall I pick...
|"Because whoever said 'this doesn't need more spikes' was an idiot."|
Now I can further augment the lethality (and sale value!) of my melee items! Like adding super-heated coils onto a sledgehammer or rebar to a powerfist! Also, I found some cool shades on one of the Gunners. Some BOSS patrolman specs, to complement my attire.
|"Have YOU seen my boy?"|
WELL, that's it for today, my lovelies! Tune in next week for yet another thrilling episode of my dumb ass traipsing around the Commonwealth! Don't forget to Like/Comment/Subscribe/Vote down ballot/Support your local commerce/Praise The Sun!
Death count: 14 (Most of it self-inflicted rocketing.)
Crashes to desktop: 0 (But one time was real close. I was scared.)