#vault lore

[the-al-chemist]

Artemis Hexley and the Return to the Riddles

Chapter 19: Empowerment

A/N: Artemis returns to the penultimate Vault with more friends than anticipated, and receives a lesson in art history. Warnings: a whole lot of lore drop and discussion of trauma.

With the exam season fast approaching, the Hufflepuff Common Room had turned from a cosy den to a hub of activity. Every armchair, sofa, and table had been commandeered by groups of fifth and seventh year students, their piles of books and scrolls competing for space with the usual decor of scatter cushions and pot plants.

Artemis and her girlfriends were one such group, however, the textbooks in front of them had yet to be opened, and their hushed conversation had nothing to do with schoolwork.

“So,” said Tonks, the armchair groaning softly as she jumped onto it. “Do you want the good news or the bad news?”

Artemis didn’t even consider her answer. “Good.”

“Ah. Well, I bumped into Moody in Hogsmeade this morning and they’ve still not found out who is passing information to the Cabal from the Auror office-” 

“That’s the good news?”

“- but they’re still telling people false leads,” Tonks shrugged. “So they’ve got it under control. They’ve got plenty of time.”

“What’s the bad news?”

“We’ve not got plenty of time. You two” - she gestured at Penny and Artemis - “and Badeea are looking to go to the Portrait Vault soon, before anyone gets stuck in a portrait again, and then we’ll need to get cracking on the final Vault before the statue curse hits.”

“You’re just full of cheer, you are,” muttered Artemis. 

“At least the dragon guarding it the Portrait Vault is dead already, so that should be easy.”

Beside Tonks, Penny sighed loudly.

“Well, yes, it should, but none of the others have been easy so far,” she said, fiddling with her silver charm bracelet as she spoke. “And besides, we still don’t have any way of getting there.”

Artemis’ eyebrows furrowed deeply. Penny made a very valid point. Two years ago, she and her fellow curse-breakers had travelled to the fourth Cursed Vault using a portrait of the Vault itself, which had been turned into a Portkey. After the expedition had taken a turn for the worse, the portrait had been left inside.

“Maybe we could Apparate,” she suggested. “Rakepick and Jacob both Apparated out of there, it would make sense if we were able to Apparate in.”

“Would it? Apparition requires an accurate destination, and without knowing exactly where the Vault is…”

“Or if it is even a real location,” murmured Chiara, a curious look in her pale blue eyes. “You were only able to get there by a painting of the Vault. What if it only exists inside the painting?”

“But then we’d need another portrait to get inside!”

“Oh!” Penny gasped. “We could get Badeea to paint one for us! She really is very talented, you know.”

“Would that work?” asked Artemis, and Chiara shrugged her shoulders. The girls fell quiet for a few moments, until Tonks slammed her hand down on the arm of her chair.

“Ow!” She winced and rubbed her hand, but her smile didn’t falter. “I’ve got it. I’ve only bloody gone and got it.”

“Got what, Tonks?”

“Okay. So, what if you don’t need that one specific painting to get in? Didn’t you say that last time, you were able to climb in and out of the paintings in there?”

“Yeah, but-”

“And, didn’t you say that your brother was leaving you a trail to follow from one Vault to the next?” Tonks raised her eyebrows expectantly. When none of the girls indicated that they understood her meaning, she sighed. “Come on, Artemis. Remember what you found inside the Forest Vault the first time we went there?”

“The tiny jumper,” said Artemis, and her eyebrows raised as she realised what Tonks meant, “and the painting of the dragon! Tonks, that’s brilliant!”

“Still not the foggiest what that jumper was about, but I bet you anything that if we turn that painting into a Portkey-”

“-it’ll take us into the painting where the dragon lived, and then we can go through the frame and into the Cursed Vault itself!”

“You’re going into a Cursed Vault?” said a small voice from behind Artemis, and all four girls turned to see Beatrice Haywood standing by them. “The one with the portrait curse?”

Artemis knew that there was no point in lying. “Yeah. The Circle of Khanna is trying to go back and break all the curses, for good this time.”

“I want to help.”

“Absolutely not,” said Penny, shaking her head emphatically. “Bea, you can’t-”

“Why not?” Beatrice pouted and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I’m an honorary member of the Circle of Khanna. Bill taught me how to make a Patronus last year, and I could do it better than some of the actual members, even though I am younger.”

“Exactly. You’re too young.”

“I’ll be fourteen in August. That’s older than you were the first time you went into a Cursed Vault-”

“Yes, but-”

“And I’m the only one here who has actually been cursed before,” Bea raised her eyebrows. “I’m the one who got stuck in a painting for almost a whole bloody year. You have no idea what that’s like, Penny, none of you do.” She shuddered, before telling them, “It was horrid, like a nightmare you can’t wake up from. I still dream about it sometimes, even now.”

Penny blinked as if she wanted to cry and reached out to her sister.

“That’s why I am going and not you. I just want you to be safe,” she said, her voice quietly pleading. Bea rolled her eyes. 

“I don’t need you to keep me safe. I need to keep me safe,” she turned to Artemis. “Please let me come with you. I need to see it for myself, or I’ll never be free from it, not really.”

Artemis looked from Beatrice to Penny and back again. Slowly, Penny nodded her head, her cheeks pale and eyes wide as she did so.

“Okay,” said Artemis. “If you think it will help you, you can come with us.” Bea wrapped her arms around Artemis’ shoulders before running away to find her friends, and once she was gone, Artemis turned back to Penny. “You sure you don’t mind?”

“Not really,” Penny laughed shrilly, and returned to fiddling with her bracelet. Chiara leaned across the table and placed one hand on her wrist.

“You know,” she said, in her softly lilting voice, “it might be really good for her. What happened to her was awful, but maybe going back and seeing it again will help her realise that the Vault doesn’t have any power over her anymore.”

Penny sniffed and smiled, and when Chiara removed her hand, she stopped playing with her bracelet. Artemis frowned as she considered Chiara’s words, before standing up and walking away from the table.

“Oi! Where do you think you’re going?” Tonks called after her, and she shrugged in response.

“To see if someone else needs to see the Cursed Vault for themselves again,” she replied, before walking out of the Common Room and out into the underground corridor outside.

She made her way through the dungeons towards the Slytherin Common Room, and once there, knocked loudly on the concealed stone door that formed its hidden entrance. She waited, and after a  few moments, the door slid open to reveal a surprised-looking Barnaby Lee.  

“Hello,” he said brightly.

“Hi,” replied Artemis. “Um, is Merula there?”

“Where?”

“In the Common Room. Your Common Room,” she added for good measure, and Barnaby nodded.

“Yes, she is.”

Neither Barnaby nor Artemis spoke for several seconds. Eventually, Artemis sighed.

“So, can you go and tell her I’m here? I want to talk to her about something.”

Barnaby smiled good-naturedly and nodded his head, before disappearing back into the Common Room. Nearly three minutes later, Merula came outside and stood in his place.

“What do you want, Hexley?”

“Tonks thinks she might have figured out a way for us to get back into the gallery room outside the Portrait Vault. Bea Haywood is going to come now, too.”

“So?”

“I thought maybe you might want to come with us to break the curse.”

Merula’s expression had not been friendly to begin with, but at Artemis’ words, she looked at her with even more contempt than before. 

“Why?” she asked, in a scathing voice.

“Because of what happened there last time. I know it was really horrid for you, what with Rakepick-”

“Exactly. Why the hell would I ever want to go back there?”

“So you can see that it doesn’t have power over you anymore,” Artemis told her. Merula scowled and turned to go back inside her common room, but Artemis wasn’t ready to give up. “No, wait. Look, Merula, I know how you feel.”

“Really, Hexley? You’ve had the Cruciatus Curse performed on you, have you?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Then you can shut up.”

“I felt it, though. I did, when Rakepick used the curse on you. Because of my Legilimency. And it’s not like Rakepick’s not hurt me, is it? Look at what happened to me in the Vault, when she wanted to kill me, and in the forest last year, with Rowan…” Artemis swallowed. “Rakepick was our teacher and our mentor, someone we both thought could trust, but she betrayed both of us, and hurt both of us. And that affected both of us, right? I mean, we’ve both changed because of it, haven’t we?” Merula said nothing, but she looked less confrontational, so Artemis continued, “I know I have, anyway. I didn’t realise quite how much it was Rakepick who had that hold on me until we were in the Vault of Fear again, and I saw my Boggart.”

Merula frowned. “Your Boggart was Rakepick?”

“Sort of, it was her, then me and my brother both turning into her. It didn’t use to be. I’m not sure when it changed exactly, but now…”

“What was it before?”

“You-Know-Who,” said Artemis, and Merula snorted derisively. “What’s so funny about that?”

“Because it’s stupid. Why would you be scared of You-Know-Who? He’s dead.”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“What?”

“Nothing, just something Dumbledore said once about him not really being gone,” Artemis shook her head. “Anyway, that doesn’t matter. It’s not him that I was scared of, not really, just that he was the worst wizard I could think of. Now, Rakepick is worse. To me, anyway, because she is real and has actually hurt me.”

She wasn’t sure what it was she had said, but something seemed to have struck a chord with Merula, who now looked more thoughtful than anything.

“Did you manage to see off the Boggart?” she asked, and Artemis shrugged.

“Just about.”

Merula was silent for several seconds before nodding her head.

“Okay, Hexley. You win. I’ll come with you.”

“You will?“

“Yeah. Rakepick hasn’t got power over me. Even if she doesn’t know it, I do.”

Being interested in art, Badeea Ali was fascinated by the portrait Artemis had found in the Forest Vault the first time she visited. The painting depicted a vast field, charred in places, but no longer occupied by the dark-scaled dragon who had sat in the centre of the image when she first discovered it. Bill Weasley had managed to turn the portrait into a Portkey for them, and as the group of curse-breakers waited for the Portkey to transport them towards the next Cursed Vault, Badeea examined the painting closely.

“It’s masterfully done,” she said, tilting her head one way then another. “The way the artist has played with light and shadow. It looks very realistic, and it’s obviously aged remarkably well. Did you say you found this inside a Cursed Vault?”

“Yeah, my brother put it there,” replied Artemis. “This and a tiny jumper.”

The meaning of the small jumper was still unclear, even after Artemis had rummaged in her trunk to find it the night before and looked at it closely. She supposed that it was small enough to fit either a large house elf or small child - most likely the latter, judging by the pattern of cartoonish blue Kneazles across the chest - but its significance was still as much of a mystery to her as it had been three years earlier. 

Badeea, despite being good friends with Andre, did not seem overly interested in the jumper, significant or not, and instead continued to admire the portrait Portkey until it set off, spinning in the air with all five curse-breakers clinging on for dear life.

The Portkey carried them not to the gallery room that acted as a large antechamber to the Cursed Vault, but to a vast grassy plain, where they landed on the burnt ground beneath a bright blue sky. Artemis quickly scrambled to her feet and looked around. The landscape of the painting extended as far as the eye could see in all directions, and she had no idea where it ended.

“Great,” muttered Merula, also surveying the land. “Now where do we go, Hexley?”

Artemis glanced at Badeea. Being somewhat of an art expert, and having spent so long before they left looking at the painting, she might have an idea of how to get out of it. But Badeea looked at lost as Artemis felt. Beside her, Penny was gnawing at her lower lip, her blonde eyebrows knitted together.

“That way.”

Artemis turned to see who had spoken. Behind her, Bea Haywood was staring into the distance, her face pale and her eyes slightly glazed.

“We need to go that way,” Bea repeated. “I can feel it.”

Without another word, she began to walk. Artemis shrugged at the others before following her, and though her friends looked sceptical, they all did the same. 

The grass plains felt as if they went on forever, and Artemis wasn’t certain how long the had been walking - it might have been minutes or hours - before Beatrice stopped and pointed her finger again. Further across the plains, a large rectangle appeared to have been cut out of the air, as if there was a window floating in the distance. At first, she thought it might be a mirage, but as she squinted, she could see that through the gap, a painted wall and a pile of rubble were visible.

“That’s it, Bea! That’s where we’ll find the Vault!”

Beatrice did not respond before she started to walk once more, only stopping when they reached the window. One at a time, they stepped through the air and down onto a marble floor. Behind them, the landscape through which they had just walked was now no more than a large, gold-framed painting. 

Now, they were in a gallery, with no sunlight on their faces and no breeze in their hair. The walls of the gallery were covered in large scorch marks, and several piles of rubble were dotted around the hall. In the centre, an ancient-looking dragon lay motionless as if fast asleep; the only clue that it wasn’t merely sleeping was the fact that its chest did not rise and fall. Artemis glanced at Merula, who swallowed hard before rolling her eyes and walking away.

“This is incredible,” said Badeea, her mouth agape as she turned back to examine the painting closely, placing her hand straight through the canvas and out again, before meandering around the edges of the room to look at some of the others. Beatrice also walked over to a painting, but with purpose.

The painting Bea had chosen was unlike all the others in the room, and unlike all other magical paintings Artemis had ever seen. This one was completely still, like a Muggle picture, depicting a woman - or perhaps a witch - in very old-fashioned robes, with long red hair crowned with a ring of amber stones and a small bird perched on her index finger.

“She’s hiding the Vault,” said Beatrice, as Artemis approached her. “She doesn’t want the wrong people to find it.”

“Who doesn’t?” Badeea asked, also having made her way across to the painting that disguised the entrance to the fourth Cursed Vault. “Morgana?”

Artemis did a double take. “Who?”

“Morgana. You know, Morgan Le Fay. That’s her in the painting.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because of the iconography,” said Badeea simply. She seemed to notice Artemis’ confusion, so she explained further. “The bird represents her Animagus form, and if you look behind her, there’s a lake and an apple tree. Those symbolise her as the lady of the lake and Queen of Avalon.”

“Queen of what?”

“Avalon. It was said to be a magical island that was her legacy and greatest secret.”

“Right,” Artemis nodded. “What else do you know about her?”

“Not an awful lot really, I know more about the paintings themselves than the people they depict,” said Badeea, still looking at the painting of Morgana. “If you want to know more, you’d be better off asking some of the portraits of other wizards and witches from the era. Merlin, for example. Why?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Artemis told her. “Not right now, anyway. We came here to break a curse, right? Revelio!”

The portrait of Morgan Le Fay faded away, and in its place stood a large wooden door with a brass knocker in the shape of a dragon.

“My,” murmured Badeea, “that is interesting. Very clever, too, if you think about it.”

“What is?”

“Well, Bea said that Morgana doesn’t want the wrong people finding the Vault. It’s interesting that the Vault is behind the only Muggle painting in the whole room.”

“Yes, it does rather stand out,” said Penny, with a little high-pitched giggle.

“Yes and no. A lot of witches and wizards wouldn’t even think to look at a Muggle painting. Notions of blood purity and magical supremacy didn’t just start with You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters, you know.”

“Yeah, sure,” Artemis made a non-committal noise, all too aware that behind her, Merula was clearly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking. She looked at the door. “Whatever you do, don’t knock. The dragon is dead, but knowing the Vaults, it might be enchanted so it comes back to life if we touch the door. It has to be done with Legilimency.”

She stepped to the side so that she was face to face with the dragon-shaped knocker, and looked it in its carved brass eyes.

Open, she told it. Go on, open up…

With a click and a loud creak, the door swung open. Beyond it lay a narrow candlelit corridor, the walls of it covered with yet more smaller frames. Artemis stepped up and through the door, followed by Bea, Penny, Merula, and finally, Badeea, who stopped and lingered at each and every painting lining the walls of the corridor.

At its end, the corridor opened into a heptagonal room, containing a single glowing column: the Cursed Vault. Each wall of the Vault bore a framed portrait of the Vault itself, so that looking at the portraits on the walls, it seemed that the Vault went on forever. Artemis avoided looking at the endless Vaults surrounding her, instead focussing her eyes on the golden column in the middle of the one she stood in. Like she had with the door, she stared at it and, using her Legilimency, willed it to open. 

It did not. 

She blinked and shook her head, ready to try again.

“Artemis,” Bea’s voice came from behind her. “Can I try?”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Beatrice,” said Penny, before Artemis had a chance to answer. “Artemis’ brother got stuck in here when he tried to open the Vault.”

“He did?”

“Yeah,” Artemis nodded, and pointed her finger at the portraits of vaults lining the walls. “In those.”

“I always thought I could feel something living in the portrait with me,” said Bea. “I couldn’t see them, but I knew they were there. At first, it scared me, but then I got used to it and it felt… nice, I guess. I liked knowing that I wasn’t alone.” Her voice was soft and monotone as she stared at the crystal column and continued, “Sometimes, I felt other people, too. Coming closer on the outside. Not in the portrait, but in other places. But it wasn’t me they were close to, it was the Vaults. They’re all connected, I think. Maybe I’m connected to them too, now.”

“Bea-”

“I don’t want to be connected to them anymore.” She looked at Artemis, and the trancelike tone to her voice disappeared as she told her: “Show me how to open it.”

Artemis did so, positioning Beatrice in front of the glowing column and instructing her to stare at it, to feel it and connect with it in her mind before telling it to…

Open.

Bea’s lips mouthed the word silently, once, twice, three times. And then, the sides of the column sprang apart, and the light inside flooded into the Vault around them. 

Bea’s eyes widened, and a smile spread across her face. Behind her, Penny burst into tears.

“You did it!” she said, throwing her arms around her little sister. “Bea, you did it!” She released her hold slightly and looked Beatrice up and down. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I think I am. I will be, anyway.”

“I know,” said Penny, pulling Beatrice into another hug, one which Bea returned, burying her face into Penny’s shoulder. “I know you will. I love you.”

Bea’s words were muffled as she replied: “I love you, too.”

Later that evening, after they had apparated back to Hogsmeade and returned to the castle, Badeea took Artemis to the portrait hall, where they stopped next to the painting of Merlin, who was twirling one finger through his impossibly long white moustache.

“Excuse me, sir,” said Badeea, and Merlin frowned before looking down at her from his frame. “My friend and I were just wondering if you might be able to help us.”

“Might, indeed,” said Merlin. Artemis frowned deeply, not sure whether this was an affirmative response. “With what do you require assistance?”

“We would like to know about Morgan Le Fay.”

“Morgana?” Merlin’s white eyebrows furrowed. “Why, I am surprised that you do not know about her already. The Lady of the Lake, the Queen of Avalon... She really was the most formidable and infamous Dark Witches of our age.”

“What about before?” asked Artemis.

“Before?”

“Yeah. Before she became un-famous. We always get told about her being this all powerful dark witch, but she can’t always have been like that.”

“Can she not?”

“No,” Artemis shook her head. “No one is born bad, are they? I mean, you don’t get evil babies. So, when did she become the Dark Witch Morgana, and stop just being… a witch?”

“I am afraid that I cannot tell you for sure,” said Merlin. “However, I can tell you all about our duel at the-”

“What about how there got to be a portrait of her inside one of the Cursed Vaults? Can you tell us about that?” 

Merlin blinked, clearly disconcerted by Artemis’ question.

“You know about Morgana’s involvement in the Vaults of Truth?” he asked quietly.

“Sort of,” replied Artemis. “The centaurs told us that she foresaw a great darkness, and a way to put an end to it. We know about the prophecy she made about the person who could break the curses for good, and the enchanted arrowhead she gave the centaurs to protect them against the curses until then. What we don’t know is why there’s a portrait of her guarding one of the Vaults when she wanted to destroy them.”

Merlin shook his head, his white eyebrows knitting together.

“Sir, we aren’t asking out of pure curiosity,” Badeea told him. “We are curious, of course, but mainly we are trying to do something good and worthy, like you. There are dark witches and wizards trying to access the power inside the Vaults and use it for their own gain. We are trying to get there first, and we have nearly reached our goal. If you help us, we might well achieve it.”

“I do not shake my head because I do not wish to tell you about Morgana - though I do have my reservations about doing so,” said Merlin, with a deep sigh. “I shake my head because you have misinterpreted the information you have received.”

“How so?”

“Morgan le Fay did not seek to destroy the Vaults. Morgan le Fay created the Vaults.”

Badeea’s brown eyes widened and Artemis frowned, her mind reeling. Merlin continued:

“She and I attended Hogwarts together in our adolescence. We were here at the very beginning, you know. Taught by Salazar Slytherin himself, some of the very last students to have been taught by him, before the schism.”

“The schism?” Artemis asked.

“Don’t tell me that you don’t know about the schism, girl,” Merlin tutted. “Education these days… Salazar Slytherin left the school to the remaining three Hogwarts founders - Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Helga Hufflepuff - over a dispute regarding which students were worthy of being taught magic, and which were… not.”

“Muggleborns,” whispered Badeea, her lips pursed tightly. Merlin nodded.

“Indeed. Slytherin did not wish to teach students who were not of magical lineage, Morgana included. She was the child of two Muggles - noble Muggles, mind you - but Muggles all the same,” Merlin sighed. “Slytherin was not the only one to believe that those without magical blood were inferior to pure-blooded wizards. Even after he left the castle, Morgana had to work twice as hard as our peers to be considered half as competent.” He paused and smiled wryly, before adding, “In truth, with her talents and power, she surpassed all of them. All but one, perhaps.”

“Who was that?”

“Well… me,” said Merlin, bowing his head as if he were making a modest comment. “I dare say that she was my equal. But this could be wishful thinking on my part. She truly was a most remarkable sorceress. We shall not see her likes again, for better or worse.

“I think it was her wish to prove herself and be recognised for the great witch she was - because she was a great witch, even if she was not a good one in the end - that drove her looking for greater powers, ones that exist at the very limits of what magic can achieve. And because of the snobbery she faced by her fellow witches and wizards, she was willing to look beyond the limits of the sort of magic to which our kind is more more accustomed.”

“She went to the centaurs, you mean?” said Artemis.

“Yes and no. She learned some noble and primitive forms of magic from the centaurs, including that of prophecy, as you mentioned,” Merlin replied. “However, in her efforts to foretell the future, she foresaw this darkness of which you speak, though the darkness was not that of the Vaults itself. Or perhaps it was, looking back.

“You see, once Morgana foresaw this great darkness, she redoubled her efforts to find greater powers that might be used to prevent or fight against it. At that time, she and I were one another’s trusted confidants, and thus I was the first she told after she found what she believed to be the greatest one of all.”

“What was it?” Artemis asked Merlin. “The greatest power of all, what was that?”

“She called it the ‘true’ power, but what it was exactly, she would not tell even me. She wanted to keep it a secret, to protect it. That was why she started to create the Vaults, and the enchantments to protect them. 

“At first, I tried to help her, but as time went on she became more secretive, more obsessive. Eventually, she the enchantments became curses, and dark and dangerous curses at that.” Merlin shuddered before continuing, “I attempted to make her see sense, but it was too late. She said the only thing that mattered was keeping the power safe for the right time and for the right people. The wrong people would surely resort to dark magic in order to access the power within, it was only right to resort to such things herself to ward against them. She thought that the ends justified the means, that it was for-”

“The greater good,” said Artemis, her jaw clenching slightly as the words echoed in her ears. Merlin inclined his head.

“I cannot help but wonder, however,” he said thoughtfully, seeming to speak as much to himself as to the two girls, “was the darkness Morgana foresaw a reflection of her true self? Or maybe Morgana’s ‘true’ power never was as good and pure as she believed it to be. The power it held over her drove her to darkness, after all. Perhaps, it was always just as evil and dangerous as she was herself, in the end.”

“The centaur I spoke to said that no power is either good or evil, it’s just the way witches and wizards use it that makes it so.”

“I am not certain that I agree, but I could be wrong. After all, I was wrong about Morgan Le Fay.”

Artemis tilted her head at Merlin. “What do you mean?”

But Merlin did not tell her what he meant. He just smiled sadly and shook his head, and said:

“It does not matter anymore. ‘Tis but ancient history.”

[cowboybabeop]

Vault-Tec Vaults; Game Origin & Location

Hi I'm going to back to my "Fallout Blog" roots. Here is a summary of all of the vaults and experiments (starting with a timeline) because I'm insane ^_^ I had to add a weird break bc I literally hit the tumblr character limit, but I used it to section off the major spoilers for the TV series :)

Timeline

The Great War: October 23rd, 2077

Fallout Bible: Compendium of added lore by the creators.

Fallout 76: 2102

Fallout 1: 2161 

Fallout Tactics: 2197

Fallout: Brotherhood of Steel: 2208

Fallout 2: 2241

Fallout 3: 2277

Fallout: New Vegas: 2281

Fallout 4: 2287

Fallout TV Series: 2296

Corporate Vault - Fallout: Brotherhood of Steel - Texas 

A control group vault meant for Vault-Tec employees to continue research, primarily on FEV (Forced Evolutionary Virus) during the war.

Vault 0 - Fallout Tactics - Colorado 

A control group vault with geniuses kept in cryogenic stasis, with their minds interlinked into an entity called The Calculator.

Vault 3 - Fallout: New Vegas - Nevada 

A control vault. Residents ended up opening the vault doors when the lower levels flooded. Eventually the vault was overrun by Fiends.

Vault 4 - Fallout TV series - California 

A test vault that was filled with residents prior to the bombs dropping. Experimentation on human subjects led to most of the original residents being killed in a revolt. In 2296 the vault is still thriving, while kidnapping surface survivors and continuing to experiment on them. The vault offered refuge for many inhabitants of Shady Sands.

Vault 8 (Vault City) - Fallout 2 - Nevada 

A control group vault that remained closed until 2241. Instead of receiving two G.E.C.K. (Garden of Eden Creation Kit) devices, Vault 8 received just one and a replacement water chip that was supposed to go to Vault 13.

Vault 11 - Fallout: New Vegas - Nevada 

Every year the residents were told to sacrifice a fellow resident, with the threat of everyone's death if they did not. In reality, the system would praise them for NOT sacrificing an individual and the vault door would be unlocked. This message finally played after only five residents remained.

Vault 12 - Fallout 1 - California 

A seemingly normal, safe vault with an ulterior motive to study the effects of radiation on the inhabitants. The door never fully sealed, and in 2083 the ghoul residents left to found Necropolis.

Vault 13 - Fallout 1 & Fallout 2- California 

Your home vault as the Vault Dweller. A rather normal vault, however due to a shipping mishap Vault 13 received an additional G.E.C.K. device (that was supposed to go to Vault 8) instead of a replacement water chip. Thus, leaving the Vault Dweller to leave the vault in search for a replacement when their only water chip breaks.

Vault 15 - Fallout 1 & Fallout 2 - California 

A vault that experimented with incredibly diverse ideologies and backgrounds. The vault became severely overpopulated in 2097 and the dwellers decided to open the door. Shady Sands was created using Vault 15's G.E.C.K. and the local raider gangs all have origins from this vault.

Vault 17 - Fallout: New Vegas - Mention Only 

Inhabitants were kidnapped and transformed into Super Mutants. Lily originates from this vault.

Vault 19 - Fallout: New Vegas - Somewhere in CA/NV/AZ/UT 

Paranoia was induced by noises, lights, and segregation. The vault was divided into two sections, Red and Blue, with a separate overseer for each sector.

Vault 21 - Fallout: New Vegas - Nevada 

An almost normal vault, with the exception of a culture and society built around gambling. All major decisions were made through gambling, with the decision to open the doors and become part of New Vegas being "won" in a game of Blackjack.

Vault 22 - Fallout: New Vegas - Somewhere in CA/NV/AZ/UT 

A vault dedicated to studying agriculture. A fungus designed to kill pests on plants became capable of infected human hosts. Vault 22 is curiously green on the outside by the time The Courier arrives at the location.

Vault 24 - Fallout: New Vegas - Mention Only 

Remnants of a Vault 24 jumpsuit are found in the FNV game files.

Vault 27 - Fallout Bible - Mention Only 

A vault designed to be deliberately overcrowded with not enough means to sustain the inhabitants.

Vault 29 - Fallout 76 - Mention Only 

Only children younger than 15 were allowed in this vault, with their parents being sent to other vaults. Harold is believed to originate from this vault.

//TV SHOW SPOILERS//

Vault 31 - Fallout TV Series - California 

Part of 3 interconnected vaults, serving as cryogenic home for the managers and higher ups of Vault-Tec.

Vault 32 - Fallout TV Series - California 

Part of 3 interconnected vaults, serving as a healthy breeding pool for Vault 31 and 33. Somewhere around 2294, Vault 32 failed and the residents resorted to murder, cannibalism, or suicide.

Vault 33 - Fallout TV Series - California 

Lucy MacLean's home vault. Part of 3 interconnected vaults, serving as a healthy breeding pool for Vault 31 and 32.

//END OF TV SHOW SPOILERS//

Vault 36 - Fallout Bible - Mention Only 

The only food in this vault consisted of thin, watery gruel.

Vault 34 - Fallout: New Vegas - Somewhere in CA/NV/AZ/UT 

The vault was purposefully overstocked with guns with the overseer being able to give/deny access to residents. This inevitably led to it's downfall, and those who revolted and raided the armory relocated above as The Boomers in 2231.

Vault 42 - Fallout Bible - Mention Only 

No lightbulbs over 40W were provided.

Vault 43 - Fallout Bible - Mention Only 

A vault containing 20 men, 10 women, and one panther.

Vault 51 - Fallout 76 - West Virginia 

A vault with a supercomputer as the overseer. Interference from the computer led to most of the residents being murdered by other residents.

Vault 53 - Fallout Bible - Mention Only  

Most equipment was designed to break down every few months in order to stress out inhabitants.

Vault 55 - Fallout Bible - Mention Only 

No entertainment tapes were provided.

Vault 56 - Fallout Bible - Mention Only 

The only entertainment tapes provided were of one terrible comedian.

Vault 63 - Fallout 76 - West Virginia 

The inside of the vault remains sealed, with the outside door being all that is accessible to the player character. Other parts of the vault are revealed through cut content.

Vault 65 - Fallout 76 - Mention Only 

Remnants of the vault remain in Fallout 76 cut content.

Vault 68 - Fallout Bible - Mention Only 

The vault contained 999 men and 1 woman.

Vault 69 - Fallout Bible - Mention Only 

The vault contained 999 women and 1 man.

Vault 75 - Fallout 4 - Massachusetts 

A secret experimenting in refining human genetics through selective breeding, genetic modification, and hormonal treatments. The vault's concept was made by Stanislaus Braun.

Vault 76 - Fallout 76 - West Virginia 

The home vault of the player character in 76. It was a control vault, set to open after 25 years. This is when the player character leaves the vault.

Vault 77 - Fallout 3 - Mention Only 

Mentioned by slavers in Paradise Falls, this vault was rumored to only contain one man and a box of puppets.

Vault 79 - Fallout 76 - West Virginia 

A vault dedicated to hoarding the country's gold reserves.

Vault 81 - Fallout 4 - Massachusetts 

Designed to develop a cure for every possible sickness or ailment. Residents were unknowingly sprayed with diseases by nozzles hidden in their rooms. The first vault overseer had thought this to be cruel, cut off the scientists from the rest of the vault and cut the nozzles from spraying residents before the experiments could begin.

Vault 87 - Fallout 3 - Somewhere in VA/PA/MD 

The original vault experiment for 87 was scrapped, and it became a research center for FEV, leaving the vault wildly radioactive and inhabited only by super mutants by the time you access it as the Lone Wanderer.

Vault 88 - Fallout 4 - Massachusetts 

An unfinished vault inhabited by ghouls.

Vault 92 - Fallout 3 - Somewhere in VA/PA/MD 

The best musicians were sent to this vault to "preserve musical talent", but truthfully residents were subjected to subliminal messages mixed into white noise. Eventually some of the musicians went into random, murderous, psychotic rages that led to the end of the experiment.

 Vault 94 - Fallout 76 - West Virginia 

A vault with non-violent faith-centric inhabitants. The vault opened one year later to search for survivors. The vault became overrun by wastelanders and raiders that destroyed their G.E.C.K. and their nuclear reactor. The vault was swarmed with radiation and is now overrun by mirelurks.

Vault 95 - Fallout 4 - Massachusetts 

A vault designed to get people clean and sober. After a successful 5 years, a Vault-Tec agent brought out a hidden stash of drugs for other residents to find.

Vault 96 - Fallout 76 - West Virginia 

A vault with a focus on agriculture, animals, genetics, and mutations. The original residents were killed in a failed escape attempt, and the vault was then used by West-Tek scientist Edgar Blackburn to continue research on FEV.

Vault 100 - Fallout 3 - Mention Only 

Remnants of Vault 100 can be found in game files and cut content.

Vault 101 - Fallout 3 - Somewhere in VA/PA/MD 

The home vault for the Lone Wanderer. This vault was meant to never open and Vault 101 did not receive a G.E.C.K. However, the overseer of the vault pretty quickly broke this rule and occasional survey teams were sent to the surface. Several residents of Megaton are the result of these survey teams. Daddy James found the vault after the birth of the Lone Wanderer and negotiated his doctoral services in exchange for shelter.

Vault 106 - Fallout 3 - Somewhere in VA/PA/MD 

Psychoactive drugs slowly released into the air of Vault 106, causing the vault to be filled with psychotic survivors by the time the Lone Wanderer visits.

Vault 108 - Fallout 3 - Somewhere in VA/PA/MD 

A slew of experiments occurred in this vault. The elected overseer was dying of cancer, the primary power supply of the vault was scheduled to fail after 20 years, the backup power supply would not be enough to power ALL of the vault, the vault was given three times the normal amount of weapons, and the vault was not given entertainment. With a majority of scientists, one of the inner experiments involved repeatedly cloning the same man... Gary.

Vault 111 - Fallout 4 - Massachusetts 

Your home vault as the Sole Survivor. All residents were meant to unknowingly stay in cryostasis, with scientists overlooking them. However, conflicts arose among those unfrozen, leading to the vault door eventually being opened.

Vault 112 - Fallout 3 - Somewhere in VA/PA/MD 

Residents lived in a virtual reality simulation to create their "perfect life" with their overseer, Stanislaus Braun, a scientist who proceeded to use the residents as playthings. Braun continuously murdered residents, then wiped their memories and reset the simulation.

Vault 114 - Fallout 4 - Massachusetts

 An unfinished vault meant for only the wealthy. Vault-Tec exaggerated the luxury of the vault, gave residents very small rooms, communal bathing and dining areas, and a homeless drug-addicted overseer named Soup Can Harry.

Vault 118 - Fallout 4 - Maine 

An Unfinished Vault meant to house both a handful of ultra-rich and hundreds of working class individuals to observe how they would interact within the same space.

Vault 120 - Fallout 4 & Fallout 76 - Mention Only 

The vault itself was meant to mimic the underwater atmosphere of Bioshock. The game was cut from Fallout 4, but remnants can be found in Fallout 76 game files.

[smileymoth]

new Etho setup lore guys

Etho's mouse is about 7-8 years old supposedly Logitech M525 if he recalls correctly (and if i heard correctly) and he got it from Best Buy

Tango (tangofrags): wait, wait this is actually really important, cause I got sent a picture of your setup. What is that mouse? Do you know the model? Etho: It's a Logitech... erm... M525 Tango: 525... is this- Etho: it's a 30 dollar one, Tango: is this from like the stone ages? (i think this is what he says, Tubbo is speaking over him w chat) oh no it looks fine, Etho: it's fairly old, I'd say probably 7-8 years? Tango: oh that's not so bad! 2017, I thought... I-I looked at it and thought he just went to Best Buy and got some random wireless mouse, he's got like 3 minutes of input latency... that's a decent mouse Etho, chuckling: that's pretty much what I did! It was Best Buy actually, Tango: hahaha oh no Tubbo, chiming in: oh I love Best Buy... [Tango and Etho are chuckling] Tango: well I was correct! Etho: It seems fine! Like.. Um... I don't know! I've never had a fancy mouse before, I don't know what I'm missing Tubbo: don't let Tango shame you man Tango: naaa, I'm just, I'm just like, kinda impressed by the setup.

[source: Super Early Morning on TubboLIVE channel at around 02:57:00]

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Do you have any headcanons about the Ghoul's cum? Is it an unusual color, taste, or texture? Is it radioactive? If you look at it under a microscope, do the sperm cells look mutated? Can he get someone pregnant? If he cums inside someone, are there any side effects?

I feel like my answer to this shouldn't start with "I have actually given much thought to what ghoul cum would be like", and it shouldn't be as long as it is, Anon, but here we go:

I headcanon that being a ghoul does make you infertile, especially as a man...early on. Radiation is a massive sperm-killer so I think all the human sperm would be wiped out pretty damn quick. But I think if you manage to stay alive long enough into the ghoulification process (which can be instantaneous or can be drawn out over years and years), your boys could possibly adjust and "heal" from being so damaged by the radiation and start producing sperm again. In the lore of the games, there are records of ghouls reproducing with one another (though it is not elaborated on at all and is apparently rare), so why would it be out of the realm of possibility (in the Fallout universe) that they could reproduce with healthy humans?

I think it would take the right human, the right ghoul, and the right conditions (my heart says 'radstorm', but I know how deeply corny that is), but I do think it's possible for some ghouls to get women pregnant.

I don't think their sperm themselves would necessarily be remarkable under a microscope; sperm having multiple heads/tails, no head/tail, and other malformations already exists in human men, and the number of them visible in a sample is used as an indicator of sperm quality. I think, that close, a sample from a ghoul would just look like a sample from a regular man with poor quality sperm.

The semen would be very radioactive after a few years, especially if you had sexual contact with an older ghoul or a still-sentient glowing one like Jason Bright or Oswald the Outrageous. I think it has a bit of a strangely-colored hue and I think it's thicker in consistency than before. You will absolutely get sick from it (especially if you swallow it) if you don't properly prep with Rad-X. Expect all the traditional symptoms of radiation sickness (fever, fatigue/fainting, confusion, vomiting, red inflammation and burns in the places you had direct physical contact, bleeding from the nose/mouth, unusual bruising) if you don't, and have Radaway ready for afterwards. What's the stuff for if not saving us from ourselves?

When a ghoul cums inside you, you can absolutely taste it, like you rested a nickle on the back of your tongue. You'll really hate it at first, but eventually you'll come to tolerate, even like it. Try not to let them "shoot up the club" every single time, though, since it'll probably leave you incredibly raw and sore. It's also long-accepted ghoul-fucker canon that your sentient ghoul lover cumming inside of/all over you can hide your scent from feral ghouls.

When I tell you that shit would taste so bad, I'm not even sure I have the proper words for what I think it would be like. Sort of like licking a battery combined with the bitter, acidic flavor of bile (and also the taste of semen, which doesn't exactly taste great anyway). You'll probably try to be sexy and brave and at least let your ghoul lover cum on your tongue once, but trust me when I say you'll never offer again. Especially since their regenerative abilities make them cum buckets every single time.

Godspeed, ghoul fuckers. We wouldn't do it if we weren't willing to risk a little rad exposure, right?

[bleue-flora]

Ok, I recently wrote an essay [here] talking about the definition and duties of civil engineering as well as the ethics because of the brain rot @swordfright gave me with calling Dream Sam’s ultimate engineering project. So, because I actually am a civil engineer I took it upon myself to design the title and summary of quantities sheets just like I do at work for roads but with Dream as the project instead. And in honor of angst day sponsored by @sixteenth-day-event, I figured I’d share it because I feel like it kinda works for the prison of the mind prompt.

“Sam’s “ultimate engineering project” he deemed too damaged like a bumpy road or crumbling building that wasn’t worthy of patching and filling in the cracks or reinforcing, that’s too eroded to be fixed and preserved. So, Sam strived to tear him down to the bedrock so he could remake, remold, and reengineer Dream according to his design for the common safety, public health and well-fair.”

{These are very similar to the actual sheets I make day to day, which I shall not share for the sake of doxing my location, but yea pretty much everything has a significance. Some of it doesn’t necessarily make sense but that was because I was more so taking inventory of what we see in lore (so you know I counted ;) lol)}

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

Been in a gman mood lately so here's some doodles of Gman from an au of mine

[nukadaddy]

[cyberdragoninfinity]

keep forgetting to post all this art from the Arc-V Fallout AU that's been nibbling at the back of my brain sinceeeee april or so 🥴

[grimbothefool]

new dude just dropped

[cynomain69]

✨Can I Offer You An Akademiya Romance In These Trying Times✨

[the-al-chemist]

Artemis Hexley and the Return to the Riddles

Chapter 23: The Truth

A/N: with Dumbledore’s help, Artemis uses her mother’s gift to help her find the answers she seeks, but they may not be the answers she wants… Warnings: This one gets dark. Very dark. Scenes and mentions of intrigue, violence, death, murder, child endangerment, child neglect.

Green flames engulfed Artemis as she and Professor Dumbledore stepped into one of the gilded fireplaces on the right side of the atrium of the Ministry of Magic. Once the flames had died down, the room outside had changed; she was back at Hogwarts, in the headmaster’s office. 

Dumbledore stepped out of the fireplace and across the office to a tall cabinet. He opened its doors to reveal a wide, shallow stone dish engraved with runic symbols and filled with a silvery liquid. A blue-ish glow radiated from it and illuminated his face.

"You have seen this before, if I remember correctly," Dumbledore said. Artemis nodded her head, her hand still gripped tightly around the vial she had thrown into the fountain almost a year previously.

"It's your Penseive. You use it to help you with all your thoughts."

"Precisely. A Pensieve allows you to deposit and keep hold of memories and streams of consciousness, to review and organise at your will. This particular Pensieve is not simply mine, however. It is the property of the Headmaster or Headmistress of Hogwarts, and has therefore belonged to every witch or wizard who has held this position, and every witch or wizard who ever shall. It contains centuries' worth of collective wisdom and knowledge." Dumbledore's eyes caught the light of the Pensieve, looking bluer than ever before. He smiled before continuing, "Between this, Kingsley Shacklebolt's investigation, and the research of both your brother and Madam Rakepick, I daresay that I have been privy to more information than almost anyone about the Cursed Vaults and the group that calls themselves…"

"R."

"R, The Ronde, the cabal. They are all the same, as you know. I believe that by now, you must also know who created the Cursed Vaults."

"Morgan Le Fay," answered Artemis. "I learnt that from the centaurs and from Merlin's portrait. She discovered a great power, and made the Vaults to keep it safe, but then she turned to dark magic. That's why she added all the curses. But-"

"And you also know of Madame Fortinbras, the professor who created the Ronde and was their first leader?" Artemis nodded and opened her mouth to speak, but Dumbledore hadn't finished with his questions. "Artemis, do you know who was the most recent leader of the Ronde?"

"Merula's aunt. Madam Buckthorn. She stopped us by the lake."

Dumbledore shook his head.

"No," he said. "Madam Buckthorn may have been the director of R, but rather than being its leader, she acted more as the caretaker of the group in the absence of a leader."

"Oh, yeah. They wanted me to lead them because of the prophecy, the one Charlie and I stole from the Department of Mysteries." Artemis bit her lip and turned to Dumbledore to add, "Um, can you forget that I said that last part?"

"I'm afraid that my hearing is not what it once was, Miss Hexley, and I did not quite catch the last few words of what you said," said Dumbledore, but his lips twitched as if he had indeed heard and was amused by it. "Was it only you that the prophecy spoke of?"

"Well, not exactly. It just said Hexley on it, so it could've been about me or Jacob. But I picked it up, and Olivia Green said only the person a prophecy is about can do that, so it must have been about me and not Jacob all along."

"Yes and no. I'm afraid that while you are correct in some respects, you are entirely wrong in others."

"What do you mean?"

"Prophecies are fickle and endlessly cryptic things, Miss Hexley. The one of which you speak may have been about you or Jacob - or indeed, several others over the course of the centuries - but by the time you came to pick it up, certain events had occurred and created the circumstances by which the prophecy became about you," Dumbledore told Artemis, who was no less mystified than before. "The prophecy speaks of an heir, one descended from Morgan Le Fay herself, and born at the start of a new season. Professor Fortinbras thought herself the heir described in the prophecy, but it could have been any other person who meets these two criteria. The most recent leader of the Ronde thought that they themselves might be the one, until your brother came along."

"I don't-"

"You will understand once you have seen the contents of that vial you hold in your hand. You see, that bottle contains memories. The memories of two people who were at one time very closely connected with the leader of the Ronde."

Artemis frowned. "But my mother said that what was inside this was half mine."

"It is. But we will revisit your memories later. First, you must go back further." Dumbledore gestured from the vial to Pensieve and told her, "Go on. Take a look."

Not really sure what she was expecting to happen, Artemis pulled the stopper from the vial and tipped its contents into the Pensieve, which began to swirl faster and glow more brightly than before. As it did so, she could see something moving inside, a shadow or a person, and she rose onto her tiptoes and leaned forward to take a closer look. 

She must have leaned too far, however, because a moment later, the ground beneath her gave a sudden lurch and she found herself falling - or perhaps being pulled - down into the Pensieve, which was far darker and colder than she had imagined it would be.

When she stopped falling, she found herself standing not in Dumbledore's office, but another room entirely. Like the office, the room had high ceilings and walls lined with books, but it was rectangular and far larger than the headmaster's office. It was filled with people, most of whom were reading or writing quietly, and all of whom were around her age or younger. It was a school library, she realised, but not that of Hogwarts, for the walls were of red brick rather than sandstone, and the students wore uniforms of blue and burgundy, not black.

"Excuse me," Artemis said to one of the students, who did not respond. She spoke louder. "Hello? Where is this?"

But the student clearly couldn't hear her, even though the library was silent. Almost silent, anyway. Two girls her own age were giggling quietly as they took books from one of the shelves and pretended to read them, all the while watching a wizard in the far corner of the room who was sitting at a desk all alone, and not wearing a uniform. Artemis wandered over to them so she could hear their hushed conversation.

"Whatever he's working on must be awfully important," said one of the girls, in an accent Artemis recognised as being American. "I've only ever seen him in the library. He's never once eaten in the hall - I'm not even sure he does eat - or anywhere else around the grounds, either. He just stays in here."

"Maybe he can't leave. Perhaps he's a vampire," whispered the second girl, and the first gasped quietly.

"Or maybe he's working on something so top secret and important that he's not even permitted to leave his desk even to have a meal."

Behind them, a third girl with her back to them shook her head, her long dark hair brushing the small of her back as it moved from side to side. She turned away from the bookshelf and joined them, a daring smile playing on her face, which was pretty and somehow familiar to Artemis, though she was not sure how.

"If you're so intrigued, why don't you go over there and ask him?" suggested the girl, raising a single eyebrow at her peers, who both blushed and shook their heads. She rolled her large hazel eyes dramatically. "Fine, then. If you two are too chicken, I'll go over and talk to him."

"But he never speaks to anyone!"

"Well, maybe he'll speak to me."

With an air of confidence, the girl pushed her dark hair back behind her shoulders and looked determinedly at the wizard on the far side of the library. Artemis frowned. She really did look familiar, as if she ought to recognise her. It was only once the girl started to walk away from her friends and straight past Artemis as if she hadn't even seen her standing there that she realised who she was.

"Ma?"

The girl who looked so much and yet not at all like Sara Hexley strode across the library in the direction of the lone wizard, Artemis following behind her, unseen and uncomprehending. As they reached the wizard, Artemis' mother leant against his desk next to him and cleared her throat. The wizard looked up at her. Now that Artemis could see his face, it was clear that he was a few years older than the students in the library. He had untidily cropped brown hair, brown eyes with a distinct ring of green around the pupil, and a face that again was distantly recognisable.

"Dad?"

"May I help you?" asked the wizard Artemis assumed must be her father, his clipped voice so contrasting with those of the girls she had listened to on the other side of the library.

"Actually, yes," Artemis' mother answered, before Artemis had a chance to speak. "My friends over there were just wondering who you are and what it is you're studying so hard that none of us have ever seen you outside of the library since you first showed up here."

"If your friends are so curious to know, why didn't they come here and ask me themselves?"

"They're  too nervous."

"I see," Leander Hexley raised his eyebrows. "You're less easily scared."

Sara shrugged. "I was junior state champion for duelling last year. It takes a lot more than some Brit with a pile of textbooks to scare me. No offence."

"None taken," said Artemis' father. "My name is Leander Hexley. I work for the British Ministry of Magic, in the Department of Mysteries."

"So, you're an international man of mystery, huh?"

"I suppose that I am."

"And what brings you to Ilvermorny Academy?"

"I'm afraid that I'm not actually allowed to talk about my work."

"Even if I promise to keep a secret?"

"You just said that your friends sent you over here to find out."

"I can make something up to tell them," Sara smiled sweetly, tilting her head to one side. "Go on. Your secret's safe with me."

As if he could tell that it was pointless to argue, Leander sighed. "Very well. I'm conducting research into Wampus cats."

"Why?"

"Too help us gain more insight into the process of thought, particularly in respect to the skill - or art, depending how you look at it - of Legilimency." Sara scowled at Leander's words, and he frowned before asking her, "You take offence at the idea?"

"You would too if your mother was a Legilimens," said Sara, and Leander's eyebrows shot upwards. She exhaled softly through her nose, her scowl softening. "Natural born, and no, I didn't inherit it. Apparently it can skip a generation or something."

"So I've heard. That must be frustrating."

"It can be. Means I've gotten pretty good at Occlumency, though." Sara shrugged again. "Hey, you know, I don't mind helping out with anything, if you..."

Leander Hexley bowed his head, smiling to himself. "That's very kind of you... Ah. What did you say your name was?"

"I didn't. But it's Sara. Sara Kowalski. But most people just call me Sally."

The library began to swirl around Artemis, and the scenery shifted. She was now standing outside in the sunshine, in a garden that she immediately recognised as that of her great-aunt and uncle in Dorset. Leander was sporting dress robes, his arm around Sara's waist. She was smiling broadly, her spare hand resting on the gentle bulge of her stomach that was poorly hidden below her white dress.

The world swirled again, and Artemis was now standing in the hallway of  the dark narrow house in Lovelace Crescent, her mother at her side. Sara was leaning against the frame of the door that led into the sitting room, where Leander was kneeling beside a small dark-haired boy, whose eyebrows were deeply furrowed in confusion.

"That puzzle is too hard for him," said Sara, folding her arms across her chest. "He's not even nine years old yet, Leander."

"He's advanced for his age," her husband replied, not looking up from the parchment he held in front of his son. "He needs to be challenged. We're raising a genius, Sally. Just think, in few years time he'll be off to school, and they won't won't know what's hit them."

He ruffled Jacob's hair and handed him the parchment, before standing up and walking across to his wife and daughter, though he behaved as if Artemis was not even there. Sara uncrossed her arms and wrapped them around him, leaning her head against his chest as she continued to watch her son.

"It'll be so quiet when he goes," she murmured. She turned her face up to her husband and told him: "We should have another one."

"We don't need another one."

"Who said anything about needing? I want another one."

More swirling, another scene, another room. Artemis’ mother's room. The scene was altogether more familiar; Sara Hexley sitting in her bed, alone. Except, she wasn't alone, for in her arms she held a baby, her forehead resting against its crown, murmuring softly to it. Artemis swallowed and stepped closer. Was that...

The bedroom door burst open, and little Jacob Hexley ran into the room, leaping up onto the bed and landing right next to his mother.

"Careful," said Sara. "You don't want to hurt your sister."

"But I wanted a brother."

"You don't get to choose," Sara laughed. "Here. You can hold her if you like." She passed the baby to Jacob and put her arm around him, repositioning his arms with her now free hands. "Jacob, this is Artemis."

Jacob blinked at the baby Artemis in his arms. "She's so little."

"I know, that's why you have to be careful. You have to look after babies, be good to them and protect them. You can do that, can't you?"

"I think so."

"I think so, too. You're clever and strong, like a big brother should be."

The baby who would eventually become Artemis herself reached up, and Artemis watched her mother place her brother's little finger into her palm. Jacob smiled and nodded his head.

"You're right. I am both of those things," he said, and Sara laughed as she placed a kiss on both her children's heads.

Artemis stepped forward, longing to join the three of them, but as she did, the scene shifted once more. Sara held a slightly older baby Artemis on her lap, reading from an open book. From outside the room came the sound of raised voices, and she paused frowning. She closed the book, and stood up, still holding her daughter, and walked towards the study, from which Jacob ran out, his face red with anger and wet with tears.

"I hate you!" he shouted back into the room. 

"Hey," said Sara, bouncing the now crying Artemis on her hip in what seemed like a pointless attempt to soothe her. "Don't say things like that."

Jacob slammed the door and ran up the stairs.

"Jacob! Come back down here and apologise to your father."

But Jacob kept running, both he and his sister clearly inconsolable.

The world shifted once more, and Artemis was no longer in the house at all, but standing on the platform of  a train station. The air around her was smoky and filled with the sound of children shouting and owls screeching, and a red engine stood waiting on the tracks. Sara, Jacob, and a little dark-haired girl who looked far more like herself than the baby from the previous memories were gathered on the platform. 

"I'm sorry your father couldn't come to say goodbye," Sara said as she released her son from a tight embrace. Jacob shook his head.

"I didn't want him to come anyway."

"Jacob..."

"It's true, Ma. I don't want him here, or anywhere near us." He exhaled, and looked around himself before pulling his mother back into another hug, whispering into her ear. Artemis leaned in closer to hear what he was saying. "Ma, you don't know him. You can't trust him, you mustn't trust him. Not with yourself, and definitely not with Missy."

"Honey, you're-"

"I mean it, Ma. Please, be careful," said Jacob. He bent down to hug the smaller Artemis, whose eyes were filled with tears. He ruffled her hair. "There's no point telling you to be careful, is there?" He crouched down as a tear rolled down Artemis' face. "I'll be back at Christmas, and I'll write to you every week until then."

"Why can't I come with you? I want to go, too."

"You will one day, Missy. Take care of mum while I'm gone."

With one last pointed look at his mother, Jacob stood up and walked away down the platform. As the train whistle blew, the scene in front of Artemis dissolved into the steam and faded to black. She felt herself turn in the air, and when her feet hit the ground, she was standing back in the headmaster's office, with Dumbledore at her side.

"What.. What was that?" she stammered.

"Memories," replied Dumbledore. "Your mother's memories."

"But why?"

"Clearly, she thought that you deserved to know the truth as much as I do."

"The truth about what?" Artemis looked at the pensieve, her eyebrows furrowing deeply. "Jacob... He said she couldn't trust our Dad."

"He did."

"And our dad... He'd be a direct descendant of Morgan le Fay too, wouldn't he?

"He would."

"He was the leader of R, wasn't he? Before he died?"

"He was," Dumbledore inclined his head. "However, he must have at some point discovered that he was not the heir of which the prophecy speaks. Whether that occurred before or after he journeyed to America, I am not sure. However, I suspect it was his interest in the Vaults that caused him to journey overseas. He said himself that he was researching Legilimency. It is my theory that he was looking for a way to open the Buried Vault. In doing so, he found your mother, the daughter of a natural-born Legilimens. The skill skipped a generation, as she said it often does, and so when Jacob and you were born, you both had the innate ability."

"Which meant we could open the Vaults, and not our dad," Artemis said. "That was why he used to do all those puzzles. It was practice for the Vaults. He was training us."

"That would be my suspicion."

"So it should've been Jacob. He always was good at the puzzles and riddles and things. Much better than I was."

"Perhaps, but as you just saw, Jacob did not trust your father, nor did he want anything to do with him and his plans," said Dumbledore, his face growing serious. "The prophecy tells of the person who will lead the way to the Cursed Vaults. It also speaks of a sacrifice."

"A life."

"Not just any life. The life of the person most dear to the one who will open the final Vault. Jacob, naturally, was not prepared to sacrifice that life. He was determined to keep the person he loved most safe."

"But the Cabal had Duncan killed anyway."

"They did. Duncan's death was an immeasurable tragedy, made even more devastating for the simple reason that it was a great waste," Dumbledore sighed sadly. "Duncan Ashe is not the person I speak of. The person Jacob loved most in the world was you." Artemis' eyes widened, and Dumbledore placed one hand on her shoulder, the other resting on the edge of the Pensieve dish. "I must warn you, Artemis, that the next memories are yours, and you will most likely be upset by them. The truth is never easy, but it is important that you know it."

Artemis shrugged. "They're just memories, Professor. I've seen them before."

"In a way, I suppose that you're right."

Before she could ask Dumbledore what he meant, the Pensieve began to swirl again, and she felt herself plummeting down through it once more. When she stopped falling, she found herself in a small, dark room with a sloping attic ceiling. Her own bedroom. In the bed, a small child was sleeping.

The door opened a little, and a narrow strip of light entered the room, shining onto the child's face. As the child squinted and rubbed her eyes, Artemis recognised her younger self. Footsteps behind her made her aware of a second person entering the room, and she turned to see her father walking across to crouch beside the bed.

"Artemis. Wake up," he said, shaking her gently. "It's time to get up."

"Is it morning already?" 

"Not yet, princess. It's still night time, but I need your help with something."

"What?" asked the younger Artemis, her head tilting and nose wrinkling in the half-light.

"Oh, I can't tell you that. It's a surprise. Do you want to help?"

The darkened room swirled, and shifted into yet another. This one, too, Artemis recognised. She had been standing in it just an hour before, and not just in a memory. 

She watched her father lead her younger self across the black tiled entrance chamber of the Department of Mysteries and through one of the identical black doors. She followed them through the door, and found herself in the great stone-stepped room with the central archway. This time, however, the veil in the arch was missing, and the room was eerily silent.

"I don't like it," said the smaller Artemis, staring at the archway with her hazel eyes narrowed in suspicion. Her father chuckled softly.

"You're not scared are you?"

"No," Artemis watched herself stick her chin out stubbornly, though there was an undeniable waver in her voice. "I'm not scared of it, I just don't like it."

"That's okay, then," said Leander. He knelt down and placed his hands on his daughters shoulders. "Because this is what I need help with. I need you to run - as fast as you can - down all these steps and through that archway. Do you think you can do that?" 

The younger Artemis nodded her head, and her father hugged her tight to his chest. "I knew you'd be good at helping, because you are really, really special. We all love you very much. You know that, don't you?" Another nod of the little girl's head, and Leander let go of her completely. "Good. Now, run."

Artemis' blood ran cold as she watched her own face split into a broad smile, and saw herself begin to run. Her dark hair was in disarray, her feet clad in slippers, her pyjamas partly covered by a knitted jumper adorned with a pattern of blue Kneazles. She scampered down the steps, running as fast as her little legs could carry her towards the daïs with its crumbling stone arch.

"ARTEMIS, NO!"

At first, she thought that she had shouted the words herself, but the voice that cried out was not hers. Both Artemises stopped and turned to see who the voice belonged to.

Sara Hexley, her face white and filled with horror, stood in the doorway.

But not for long. She ran straight past her husband and down the steps to her daughter, placing her palms to the smaller Artemis' face, her arms, her hands, her torso.

"Are you okay, honey? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine."

Sara Hexley was apparently unconvinced, for the colour did not return to her cheeks and she continued to run her eyes over her child, pushing her sleeves up and hair back from her face as if looking for signs of damage. Sighing as if bored by this display of maternal concern, Leander made his way down the stone steps towards them.

"You." Sara pushed her daughter behind her as she turned towards her approaching husband, her voice shaking with rage and disgust. "Jacob said... I didn't believe him. I couldn't believe him." She blinked as if forcing back tears, and asked, "It's true, isn't it? These Cursed Vaults, these people who want them... You're one of them."

"We don't want the Vaults, Sally, we want what's inside them," said Leander. "We all have wanted it for so long, needed it, and now we finally have the key to getting it. Jacob is the key, he's the one. Our son can do what no one else has done for centuries."

"And our daughter?"

"She is important, too. She has her own part to play."

Leander's eyes drifted to the stone archway, and following them, Sara's own widened to perfect circles.

"No," she said, her voice weak. "No, you can't..."

"I have to."

"I won't let you."

"You don't have a choice," Leander sighed. "Either it happens now, like this, or later, in another way. The prophecy is very clear-"

"I don't give a damn about any prophecy," Sara snapped. "This is our daughter."

"You cannot prevent the inevitable, Sally. It is prophecised, it will come to pass. At least this way, we can control how."

Sara Hexley stared at her husband. Her face began to soften, and her eyes glazed over, her face becoming unreadable. Slowly, she nodded and turned back to her daughter, holding her close and whispering into her hair. Watching on, Artemis heard her words as clearly as if she were the one being spoken to.

"Artemis, honey, I want you to show me how fast you can run, okay? When I let you go, you go run back to that door and back up the stairs. Go as far as you can, and if you find somewhere to hide, you hide. Understand?"

As she stood back up straight, Sara kept one hand on Artemis' shoulder, the other reaching for her wand.

"Go!"

The silent chamber became full of noise and movement. As her mother had instructed, the younger Artemis darted back up the stone steps, her father lunging to catch her. But Artemis had always been fast, and somehow, Sara was even faster. Quick as a flash, her wand was pointed at Leander, her feet springing into an offensive duelling position, her arm moving as she hurled spells at him with more feeling, force, and skill than Artemis had even known she possessed. Leander, now having to defend himself against his wife, had no choice but to let the younger Artemis run away. 

Meanwhile, the older Artemis stayed put, watching the duel with her mouth half-open with shock and awe as her parents continued to fight. Her mother's technique was flawless, and every spell she cast was with furious intent. Leander, even though he was defending himself both with and without his wand, was clearly no match for her.

Artemis would have stayed and watched them duel for longer, but the chamber and the lights began to swirl, spinning around her and not stopping, even as the stone steps turned into black walls and doors. In the centre of the spinning room was her younger self, eyes screwed shut and little body trembling in her blue Kneazle jumper. 

"It's okay," Artemis told herself, even though she knew that she wouldn't be able to hear. "You're going to be okay. Don't be scared."

But the younger Artemis was scared. She was terrified. Artemis tried to hug her, but her arms went straight through her. 

The doors stopped spinning and one opened. Both Artemises flinched, but the person who opened the door was Sara. she wrapped her arms around the little girl the way Artemis had tried to. 

"Where's Daddy? Why were you fighting?"

"We just had a bit of argument, that’s all. He'll come home later."

Sara led little Artemis away, and the room spun again, this time settling to form the hallway at Lovelace Crescent once more. Artemis was sitting with herself at the bottom of the staircase, and the door to the sitting room was ajar. Through it, she could hear a pair of voices.

"She's scared of me, Jacob," her mother was saying, her voice choked with tears. "I can see it, every time she looks at me."

"That's why we have to do it." 

In the doorway, Artemis could see the back of her mother's head move from side to side. Beyond her, Jacob looked through the open door and sighed before making his way over to the stairs. He hugged the younger Artemis and lifted her up, carrying her across the hallway and into the sitting room, the older Artemis following behind her.

"We can't let her remember this, Ma," he whispered, and a single tear fell down Sara Hexley's cheek as she nodded her head, just once. Jacob placed the younger Artemis down, and removed his wand from his robes.

"Ma?" said the younger Artemis, and Sara Hexley closed her eyes. "Jacob?"

Artemis watched Jacob put the tip of his wand to her younger self's temple, and everything turned black. 

[calder]

so

the tv show opens the door for any given weirdo in new vegas to retroactively have been an unfrozen vault-tec employee

i find that idea a lot more rich and compelling than synth intrigue

[leaf-in-a-flower-garden]

I redrew that one drawing of child elders, with much more effort lolz

(click for better quality)

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

If you get pregnant from a ghoul, what would the kid be like? Human? Ghoul? Some weird freakish third thing? Even Gulpers are just mutated humans so anything is possible.

(I'll put a trigger warning here for "mild discussion of pregnancy loss/premature birth", in case that upsets anyone.)

My official answer to this is: "looks human, but closer to a freakish third thing when you get down to the details".

The pregnancy certainly wouldn't be a cakewalk. Frankly, I think you'd have to have a pretty preternatural resistance to radiation to successfully conceive with a ghoul to begin with (which we see is achievable for some people; otherwise I think there would just straight up be no successful fertilization/implantation). If you were able to make it happen, I think the fetus would be quite radioactive itself early on, and you'd struggle a lot. You might be able to get away with the occasional dose of Radaway if you're incredibly sick, like too sick to function, but too much of it and I think you'd be risking unfavorable outcomes. With luck (and maybe a higher-than-average endurance), things might taper off the further along you get. I imagine the birth would be unremarkable, all other regular health factors considered, unless you found yourself so ill from the baseline radiation that you were unable to continue carrying to full term and were forced to deliver prematurely. The odds of that certainly aren't zero. Your breast milk would make a Geiger counter go nuts.

It's hard to imagine the 50% genetic spawn of a ghoul wouldn't be significantly more radiation resistant, right? Like, at minimum? Personally, I think if you had a baby with a ghoul, that kid would be constantly drawn to play in puddles of nuclear fallout, to drink from dirty sources, to want to go outside during rad storms. Radiation is healing and refreshing for ghouls, so I would imagine at least some of that would transfer, no matter how much it makes you worry. You'd probably find the kid sucking on a power core if you turned your back for too long.

I, personally, would think that a kid like that would age normally, but since we know ghouls have that super-regenerative ability, maybe there's a chance that they'd shoot through the puberty phase really quickly? I mean, that "growing" phase in adolescence is basically just a bunch of cells dying off and being regenerated/high rates of cell generation to build muscle and bone mass. Again, I'd like to think they'd grow pretty typically, all things considered, but it's certainly something to think about.

That regenerative ability could certainly prove quite...tricky at times. We've seen how quickly it can heal wounds, which is great for something like a puncture or a stab wound...but what about a broken bone? I can't help but be reminded of an audio diary you can find in Bioshock 2 that talks about the Little Sisters' insane regenerative ability and its disadvantages. At one point, one of the girls escapes from the researchers studying them and throws herself over a balcony (trying to escape or end her life, though which is unclear), shattering both of her legs. But by the time they've made it to the bottom where she's lying, her legs have already healed at a bunch of fucked up and unnatural angles, so they have to break her legs over and over again until they can set them correctly. With as quickly as we see ghouls heal in the show (and in the games), it's hard to imagine you wouldn't run into the same issue, as horrific as it is.

Can you imagine your child having to go through that because they fell playing (or fleeing, god forbid) and broke their arm, or their collarbone or something? Can you imagine having to be the person doing the breaking? What if there's no one else to do it?

I'd also assume that, as they age into their teen years/early adulthood, their aging would slow, though I think exactly how much it would slow would depend on the individual child and their circumstances. I do think half-ghoul children would be able to be turned fully ghoul through some conventional means, just maybe over a longer period of time and with much higher doses of radiation.

[bleue-flora]

Michaelmcchill really asking the real questions about Dream and the Prison…

[clip] Sapnap: “He’s fucked up alright? He was my friend but he’s Fucked Up, okay? He wanted to control everyone.” Eryn:”Really?” Micheal: “So you do think he should be in there?” Sapnap: “Yes.” Michael: “For how long?”

[clip] (about Sapnap’s visit to prison) Michael: “But was he like shaking bars fucked up? Or like what?—Was he acting like a fucking monkey in the zoo, like trying to get the fuck out, or what?” Sapnap: “Like no this—look he went from being fucked up in terms of like—like him just being like a bad person to him being fucked up by being like he wouldn’t talk—like oh he—he was like—he got fucked up from being in prison so long. You know what I mean? There’s a difference between the two fucks up.” Michael: “Well if he got fucked up from being in prison then maybe he should be out?” Sapnap: “No, no, no, Micheal, you’ve got it all wrong. He needs to be in prison til he’s not fucked up either way. Once he’s just not fucked up and—” Michael: “Wait a minute, so the prison made him fucked up?” Sapnap: “No, no, no, he was fucked up, alright? And then he got a different kind of fucked up but he’s probably still the other fucked up as well. You get what I’m saying.” Michael: “I mean I get it he was fucked up before he went in but it seems like the prison has fucked him up even more.” Sapnap: “No—no, look he’s gonna get better.” Michael: “If he—if he’s your friend, wouldn’t you want to help him get better?”

[clip] Michael: “But maybe the prison can’t help him!” Sapnap: “Michael, you’re wrong.” Michael: “I’m—I’m just asking.” Sapnap: “Michael, he has to stay in there. If he comes out— Michael: “These aren’t necessarily my opinions I just don’t—I mean if he’s you friend—What if he needs therapy instead of the prison?”

[gemtopia]

I’m ecstatic

Holy fucking shit! It’s New Vegas! You can’t tell me otherwise! That’s FUCKING NEW VEGAS!