enhanced blood textures

Concord tries to kill me.

Codsworth told Marilyn to seek assistance in Concord, and so off to Concord she went, trusting that her faithful robot slave wouldn’t send her into a hostile environment.

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It’s a peaceful little town…for about 5 seconds.

Almost immediately, Marilyn spies the first person she’s seen in this post-apocalyptic wasteland. He’s even running towards her in excitement!

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Oh, wait.

So Marilyn, a law-school graduate who’s never before attacked a fellow human being, does what any peaceful law-school graduate with a gun would do in this situation.

She paints the fucking town red with the blood of her enemies.

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Some people yell down from a balcony, asking for help against a gang of Raiders, who are apparently crawling all over this unpleasant town like flies on a headless corpse. Marilyn does not yell back asking how the fuck these people think one woman with a crappy gun and basically no armor can wipe out a town full of heavily-armed sociopaths.

The trapped people are holed up in the decaying Museum of Freedom. Marilyn blasts her way through the place, killing Raiders and looting everything that isn’t nailed down. After getting lost for what seems like goddamn hours, Marilyn finally (FINALLY) finds her way upstairs to a group of people who don’t want to kill her. Even though one of them is holding an awfully big gun.

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‘Scuse me while I whip this out.

It turns out that this ragtag, beat-down little group contains the last five surviving members of the Minutemen, a post-war organization dedicated to protecting small communities within the Commonwealth. Their de facto leader is Preston Garvey, who I’m sure is not overcompensating for anything.

Preston turns Marilyn over to a guy named Sturges, who starts talking about needing a fusion core for some power armor that’s apparently just hanging out on the roof of the museum. Marilyn, who only came to Concord to find out what happened to her kidnapped son, sighs as she realizes that she’s going to have to run errands for incompetent people in order to get any information. Despite the fact that Marilyn single-handedly cleared the museum of all Raiders, Sturges and Preston are scared to go down to the basement to retrieve a fusion core.

Marilyn dutifully trudges down to the depths of the museum, grabs the fusion core, and then promptly gets lost as fuck on her way up to the roof. The next time I see a museum, I’m going to punch it in the face.

She finally (FINALLY) reaches the roof. She puts the fusion core into the power armor and climbs inside. It’s ugly as hell, awkward and clunky, but she feels much safer encased within its steel womb.

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Now, since I played over 100 hours of this game half a year ago, I do have some random, vague memories of it. As soon as Marilyn stepped into the power armor, I remembered that saving at this point was critical. I didn’t remember why it was critical, but I knew that I would hate myself if I didn’t do so. If only I could remember why…

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OH MY HOLY FUCK THAT’S WHY!! JESUS CHRIST OMG IT’S COMING RIGHT AT ME!!!

So, I died. I don’t want to say that Marilyn died, because she lives on through the magic of reloading saved games. But I died big-time. I’ve gotten to level 19 with Belladonna in Skyrim without dying once, and now my poor little level 3 Marilyn gets disemboweled by a goddamn deathclaw. Fuck you, Fallout.

Seriously, though, I’m starting to remember that this game is just hard. It’s not Dark Souls hard or anything, but I’ve gotten used to the expansive, sort of lazy feel of Skyrim, where I don’t have to be on constant alert. In Fallout 4, there are lightning-fast ghouls who hide and lay in wait like crocodiles in a river, and mole rats who burst out of the ground, and deathclaws who are even deadlier and claw-ier than their predecessors.

After reloading, I decide to attack from a different angle.

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Unfortunately, the Legendary Deathclaw refuses to wander within range of the museum roof. Marilyn dispatches all of the Raiders from the relative safety of higher altitude, and then (after desperately wandering around to see if there’s a less-confrontational way to confront the beast) decides to lure the deathclaw out by blowing up the cars around it. The explosions and fire do enough damage to get the deathclaw within a manageable health range, and Marilyn dispatches it by heroically running backwards at full speed until her AP charges up enough to use VATS.

I didn’t take any pictures, because it was a terrifying experience that I’d prefer not to relive.

Now that Marilyn’s done all the hard work, Preston decides to move himself and his four friends into Marilyn’s old neighborhood.

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“I’m just so happy to be here in the ruins of my former life. Thanks for the memories, Preston!”

And so the settlement of Sanctuary is born.

Marilyn has to admit that it isn’t so bad, having a safe little enclave filled with fellow humans (of the friendly variety).

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Home is where the drugged-out grandma is.

Mean girls and catfights

I shouldn’t have implied that Belladonna does nothing, because she actually does a shitload of stuff. It’s just not, you know, Dragonborn stuff or Civil War stuff. She has absolutely no direction in her life. At level 18, she has yet to meet the Greybeards, and despite being an Imperial, she has literally no interest in the war. (She is, however, a level 60 blacksmith. Priorities, yo.)

I like to imagine her as the adventuresome daughter of a wealthy cheesemaker in Skingrad, who bade farewell to the easy life of a sheltered socialite and went searching for excitement in Skyrim. She doesn’t really understand the strange Old Kingdom, or the idea of a province fighting within itself, and she’s overwhelmed by everyone’s insistence that she’s part dragon. At the same time, she’s delighted by the opportunity to explore and meet people and make her own living and, also, kill things.

Sometimes, in her quest for new friends, Belladonna runs into some real bastards and bitches. At the Bannered Mare in Whiterun, she made the acquaintance of a Nord broad named Uthgerd the Unbroken, who immediately challenged her to a fistfight.

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Belladonna may be a cheesemaker’s daughter, but she knows how to throw a punch. After all, you can’t be a hot young socialite in Cyrodil without learning how to defend yourself against amorous Imperial soldiers.

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Apparently Uthgerd is a good sport about losing (or maybe she just likes getting beaten up), because she quickly tried to become besties with Bella. What can you say? Bitches be crazy.

Before Bella could shake off the mean-girl Nord, Uthgerd the Formerly-Unbroken imparted a little wisdom.

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Words to live by.

Amalthea the Assassin

It’s a nice day to start again.
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It’s a nice day for a…beheading.
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Kicking ass in Solstheim

For your viewing pleasure, here is a lovely gallery in which Amalthea is heroically awesome and Eola is helpful and eloquent.

Diplomatic Immunity

Amalthea has been slowly meandering through the Main Questline. She’s been holding off on Diplomatic Immunity for quite a few levels, because quests that require stealth are the only things in Nirn that truly scare her. Recently, she succumbed to her Dragonborn destiny and finally agreed to help Delphine with her plan to sneak into the Thalmor Embassy.

The last of the Blades believed that the Thalmor might have something to do with the return of the dragons, and needed Amalthea to go undercover to a reception at the Thalmor Embassy and search for evidence.
2015-05-30_00014 2015-05-30_00015“But can I get fingered as a non-spy?”

And so, like a porn-star Cinderella wearing grotesquely ugly shoes, Amalthea clambored up into a carriage and went to the ball.
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And almost immediately ran into some cooze wearing her outfit – right down to the fucking clogs.
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Shaking off the indignity, Amalthea focused on her mission. She needed to create a distraction so that she could sneak into the depths of the embassy. After considering a few possibilities, Amalthea decided to rely on the old adage that crazy women stick together, and convinced Jarl Idgrod Ravencrone to help her.
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Distraction achieved, Amalthea ditched the party and recovered her stealth gear. It really just served as pretty decoration, since this is how Amalthea does subterfuge.
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Amalthea’s search led her into the embassy’s dungeon. She was immediately enchanted by this lovely torture rack. Mmmm, and the lighting is just perrrrfect…sigh… It’s unfortunate that Amalthea will never get the chance to use it.
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Sadly, this was the only available dialogue choice.
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Having recovered proof that the Thalmor knew absolutely nothing about the Dragon Crisis, Amalthea went back to Riverwood to thank Delphine for wasting her time and almost getting her killed. Fucking factions and their conspiracy theories.
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Miscellaneous moments

Eola relaxes with a good book.
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Amalthea preens in Whiterun.2015-05-29_00011

Amalthea poses with a sexy boat.2015-05-24_00017

Amalthea kicks some ass.2015-05-19_00014 2015-05-19_00021

Rorikstead randomness

Rorikstead and its surrounding area is just lovely.
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Also lovely? Decapitation of one’s enemies.2015-05-28_00021

Also lovely, but irritating? When Eola resurrects a dead enemy whom I’ve looted to nudity.2015-05-28_00010

Pieces of the Past

When Amalthea received an invitation to a museum in Dawnstar, she should have known that it would turn into her playing gofer for yet another lazy and/or cowardly Skyrim citizen. (Back home in Hammerfell, people fetch their own damn Daedric artifacts.)

Silus, the overenthusiastic Mystic Dawn scholar, initially couched his request as a simple clear-some-ruins-and-recover-some-items mission – specifically, recover the dissembled and scattered pieces of Mehrunes’ Razor, a dagger that once belonged to Silus’s family. Silus’s family, by the way, was involved in that whole nasty Uriel Septim assassination business to set off the Oblivion Crisis. Yes, he comes from a long line of cultists who carried out the will of Mehrunes Dagon, the Daedric Prince of destruction, change, and revolution.

Amalthea’s all about destruction and change, but revolution requires too much planning and (worst of all) working with other people. And while, yes, she does love the Daedric Princes, she loves them best like one loves one’s family – from a distance. She’s a firm believer in the separation between Nirn and Oblivion. So, already not predisposed to look upon Mythic Dawn fanatics fondly, Amalthea was further irritated when Silus revealed that he’d been holding out on her.
2015-05-24_00021 Goddammit. Is anyone in Skyrim on the level?

Apparently Silus needed someone to hold his hand on the way to the Shrine of Mehrunes Dagon, where he repaired the dagger and attempted to speak to the Daedric Prince. Hilariously, Mehrunes refused to answer the bookish Imperial.

Silus then made the last big mistake of his life by telling Amalthea to try speaking to Mehrunes Dagon.2015-05-24_00023 2015-05-24_00024

Sure thing, Mr. Dagon. 2015-05-24_00025 Yeah, but Amalthea is Frank Sinatra, bitch. She does it her way.2015-05-24_00026

Mehrunes was appreciative, and he encouraged Amalthea to go forth and…well, pretty much continue doing what she’d been doing.2015-05-24_00027 2015-05-24_00028 Nothing makes a girl hotter than being called “a worthy tool.” Purrrrr…

2015-05-24_00029Nothing, that is, except for shiny gifts! Especially of the pointy stabby variety!

Pretty girls kill things

Eola and Amalthea enjoy getting bloody.

2015-05-24_00019 2015-05-24_00020 2015-05-24_00009 2015-05-24_00010(Amalthea’s wearing Echo 1162’s Dread Huntress Armor.)

She’s a killer

Amalthea doesn’t just kill dragons. Gods forbid! She enjoys shedding the blood (or bloodlike substance) of whatever animal, human, undead being, mythological beast, or sentient tree dares cross her.

Come now, and let us observe her…

…beating down a Spriggan Matron at Eldergleam Sanctuary
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…wreaking havoc on a Hagraven (one of my favorite Skyrim creatures!) at Orphan Rock
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…demolishing a draugr in some goddamn crypt
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…eviscerating a cave bear, presumably near a cave
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…betraying and killing Madanach after escaping Cidhna Mine with him and other members of the Forsworn
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…releasing a subjugated ghost from his posthumous servitude in Rannveig’s Fast
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…and, naturally, delighting in putting defeated foes in humiliating positions.
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