Post by bear on Sept 10, 2015 3:09:58 GMT
The Founders
Alex Jensen
A young, idealistic Follower of the Apocalypse who came to New Vegas with stars in his eyes and stimpacks in his hands. Two years later, the stars were gone, and the stimpack had long since been replaced by rough bandages and good wishes. The great mission he set out on to help people had stalled, and he watched as his patients slowly withered and died, gouged by water prices, charged out of home and family to drink, and left dry in the dust when they ran out of money. Those who couldn’t afford to drink one day would be weaker the next; and unable to work to afford to drink, a never ending cycle. The Followers did what they could, but in the end it was no good. Alex took the meager earnings he had and went to drink himself to death in a casino, as even alcohol was cheaper than a cool drink.
Jospeh Marshton
An ex NCR First Recon Sniper, he was honorably discharged shortly after the assault on Bitter Springs. Troubled by his past, he simply wandered the wastes until he ran into Alex in a casino in New Vegas. They bonded over shared poor luck at Blackjack, and in the course of the conversation, brought up the idea of providing free food and water to the whole Wasteland. Drunken, crazy, and having pooled their entire life savings of caps to buy an old, barely running well driller truck, they set out to complete the dream. Two weeks later, they were both dying of thirst in the Wasteland. A native tribe found them, and would have killed them if not for one person; a 15 year old girl named ‘Makes-magic-with-wrench.’
Marlene Magic-Wrench (Makes-Magic-With-Wrench)
Born to settlers who had too much Irish in their blood, with pale skin and flaming red hair that made them ill suited to survival in the wasteland. When she was three, they were raided and stolen by slavers, and she was left behind as useless. A wandering local woman heard her cries and adopted her, raising her as a daughter and naming her in the fashion of their tribe. She was naturally inventive and adventurous, making forts and digging holes that were engineered to perfection. She always thirsted to do something more with her life than make spears and carve totems, and one day her chance came. Two outsiders, half dead, in the most beautiful machine she had ever seen. She begged and pleaded to her mother, and finally managed to convince them to be spared.
THE FOUNDING OF OASIS
The tribe gave them what little water they had, and when they awakened they were very grateful and swore to repay them. Alex’s spark was back now that he had something to help with again. In a fit of eager, hyper energy, he shared his plan with the little girl, who he nicknamed Marlene. Together the pair convinced the tribal elders to come with, providing much needed protection and scavenging skill to survive, and the now much larger group set out down the road. Marlene managed to keep the truck running in far better condition than before, even figuring out how to clean and operate the drill simply by playing with it daily. Three weeks down the road, one of the eldest shaman found ate the Peyote and experienced a vision. He saw a gas station, a destroyed, deadly city... And a plume of pure, clean water. The tribe believed very heavily in visions and medicine men, and so when they happened upon an intact gas station two days later, they insisted that THIS was the place. Alex and John couldn’t think of a good reason to say no, and Marlene set the drill to work.
The tanks at the station were still half full, but the drill was dull and old. The process of drilling took weeks, and in the end, the old truck couldn’t do it. Dejected, with minimal supplies, and once more disillusioned by the world, Alex morosely decided that at least the tribe could have the truck for salvage in payment. Then, as they were slowly hauling the pipes up, they froze. The last one was wet. Not just damp... Literally dripping and stained with mud. They lowered them once more, managing to drill through the last few inches simply by slamming them down by hand, and the siphon pump once used to refill the truck from the station, pulled up fresh, clean, pure water.
Overjoyed, the tribe and outsiders alike danced around the truck, singing and celebrating. That night, after they slept in a water drunk stupor, John used his old Geiger counter to check the water. It was completely clean, without even minimal levels of background radiation. They held a meeting the next day, and swore to see the dream through to the end. John went to recruit more of his old NCR friends, Alex set out to gather support from other tribes with the headman, and Marlene and the tribe dug in to build defenses and proper living quarters.
THE FUTURE
As the years passed, truces formed, walls were erected, and new friendships were forged. But it didn’t happen without loss. John was the first casualty; already old, gray, and broken, the rigors of combat proved too much at his age, and he was slain in a raider attack. The tribal warriors utterly destroyed the gang that did it, hanging the headless, mutilated corpses for all to see, and burning every scrap of their hideout to the ground. Alex lived to see the Oasis serve it’s first traveler, but his endless dedication was his undoing. As he searched the irradiated city for supplies and scavengers to help, the radiation was simply too much. The RadAway on hand was just not enough, and he was buried next to John in the desert. Their headstones were placed beneath the truck, and their final dream inscribed on the driver door. Marlene and the tribe swore to continue the dream without them. In the modern day, Marlene is the only survivor of the original group. Now a wizened, hardened 38 year old in her prime, she runs the Oasis with a fair, but iron control, constantly upholding the tenets on which the outpost was founded. John and Alex would be proud of what came of their dream... If only they could see it.
Alex Jensen
A young, idealistic Follower of the Apocalypse who came to New Vegas with stars in his eyes and stimpacks in his hands. Two years later, the stars were gone, and the stimpack had long since been replaced by rough bandages and good wishes. The great mission he set out on to help people had stalled, and he watched as his patients slowly withered and died, gouged by water prices, charged out of home and family to drink, and left dry in the dust when they ran out of money. Those who couldn’t afford to drink one day would be weaker the next; and unable to work to afford to drink, a never ending cycle. The Followers did what they could, but in the end it was no good. Alex took the meager earnings he had and went to drink himself to death in a casino, as even alcohol was cheaper than a cool drink.
Jospeh Marshton
An ex NCR First Recon Sniper, he was honorably discharged shortly after the assault on Bitter Springs. Troubled by his past, he simply wandered the wastes until he ran into Alex in a casino in New Vegas. They bonded over shared poor luck at Blackjack, and in the course of the conversation, brought up the idea of providing free food and water to the whole Wasteland. Drunken, crazy, and having pooled their entire life savings of caps to buy an old, barely running well driller truck, they set out to complete the dream. Two weeks later, they were both dying of thirst in the Wasteland. A native tribe found them, and would have killed them if not for one person; a 15 year old girl named ‘Makes-magic-with-wrench.’
Marlene Magic-Wrench (Makes-Magic-With-Wrench)
Born to settlers who had too much Irish in their blood, with pale skin and flaming red hair that made them ill suited to survival in the wasteland. When she was three, they were raided and stolen by slavers, and she was left behind as useless. A wandering local woman heard her cries and adopted her, raising her as a daughter and naming her in the fashion of their tribe. She was naturally inventive and adventurous, making forts and digging holes that were engineered to perfection. She always thirsted to do something more with her life than make spears and carve totems, and one day her chance came. Two outsiders, half dead, in the most beautiful machine she had ever seen. She begged and pleaded to her mother, and finally managed to convince them to be spared.
THE FOUNDING OF OASIS
The tribe gave them what little water they had, and when they awakened they were very grateful and swore to repay them. Alex’s spark was back now that he had something to help with again. In a fit of eager, hyper energy, he shared his plan with the little girl, who he nicknamed Marlene. Together the pair convinced the tribal elders to come with, providing much needed protection and scavenging skill to survive, and the now much larger group set out down the road. Marlene managed to keep the truck running in far better condition than before, even figuring out how to clean and operate the drill simply by playing with it daily. Three weeks down the road, one of the eldest shaman found ate the Peyote and experienced a vision. He saw a gas station, a destroyed, deadly city... And a plume of pure, clean water. The tribe believed very heavily in visions and medicine men, and so when they happened upon an intact gas station two days later, they insisted that THIS was the place. Alex and John couldn’t think of a good reason to say no, and Marlene set the drill to work.
The tanks at the station were still half full, but the drill was dull and old. The process of drilling took weeks, and in the end, the old truck couldn’t do it. Dejected, with minimal supplies, and once more disillusioned by the world, Alex morosely decided that at least the tribe could have the truck for salvage in payment. Then, as they were slowly hauling the pipes up, they froze. The last one was wet. Not just damp... Literally dripping and stained with mud. They lowered them once more, managing to drill through the last few inches simply by slamming them down by hand, and the siphon pump once used to refill the truck from the station, pulled up fresh, clean, pure water.
Overjoyed, the tribe and outsiders alike danced around the truck, singing and celebrating. That night, after they slept in a water drunk stupor, John used his old Geiger counter to check the water. It was completely clean, without even minimal levels of background radiation. They held a meeting the next day, and swore to see the dream through to the end. John went to recruit more of his old NCR friends, Alex set out to gather support from other tribes with the headman, and Marlene and the tribe dug in to build defenses and proper living quarters.
THE FUTURE
As the years passed, truces formed, walls were erected, and new friendships were forged. But it didn’t happen without loss. John was the first casualty; already old, gray, and broken, the rigors of combat proved too much at his age, and he was slain in a raider attack. The tribal warriors utterly destroyed the gang that did it, hanging the headless, mutilated corpses for all to see, and burning every scrap of their hideout to the ground. Alex lived to see the Oasis serve it’s first traveler, but his endless dedication was his undoing. As he searched the irradiated city for supplies and scavengers to help, the radiation was simply too much. The RadAway on hand was just not enough, and he was buried next to John in the desert. Their headstones were placed beneath the truck, and their final dream inscribed on the driver door. Marlene and the tribe swore to continue the dream without them. In the modern day, Marlene is the only survivor of the original group. Now a wizened, hardened 38 year old in her prime, she runs the Oasis with a fair, but iron control, constantly upholding the tenets on which the outpost was founded. John and Alex would be proud of what came of their dream... If only they could see it.