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Fallout Quest: The Suaveness Rises

Fallout Quest: The Suaveness Rises

| by Video Games PRSS, Alex Pearl | Posted in PC, Gaming Blog

Hello there, readers! Welcome to my textual playthrough of Fallout 4! I’m new here, and after going over my options I figured that we could either do a review of the game (two weeks late and one article in a thousand) or we could actually play the game and talk about it as we go. 

Basically, I’m just starting a new game in Fallout 4 and sort of live-blogging my character’s adventures. We’re gonna give this a little narrative flair, a little storytelling tenderness, and then at the end we’re gonna chat about the game and maybe just games in general. This is a great game, and, like most Bethesda games, there is a lot to say about it. Also like most Bethesda games, Fallout 4 is not very difficult to make incredibly silly

If you want to come along for the ride and take video games out of the Let’s Play zone and into the written zone - which is to say, back in time ten or fifteen years - then I’d love to have you here with me! Let’s get started! 


Our adventure begins at the origin point of all classic epics: A suburban household bathroom. To start, my hero needed a face. I was already playing a woman in my main playthrough, so now it was time to make me a man. 

In fewer than seven days, no less. 

I needed a paragon of manliness. A face that whispered quiet, masculine potency to friends and enemies alike. A face of strength, and proper control over that strength. I needed a warrior poet. 

So, naturally, I tried to recreate Antonio Banderas.

Why, hello there.

Now, there were two problems: One, I’m red-green colorblind, so choosing a proper skin tone for this guy was incredibly difficult with my Broke Eyes. Unable to properly differentiate between shades of brown, I decided to just take Bethesda’s word and go with the “Bronzed” option and hope for the best. 

Problem two was that whenever I’d get Hunks Malone here to back up so I could tinker with his wife (I didn’t want to change too much on account of time restrictions, but unlike a lot of Bethesda games, face-making is kind of fun in Fallout 4 even if you’re bad at it), he would look like a splotchy weirdo. What had I done wrong? What could I fix? Was it his mouth, his skin, his forehead? 


…. His thin-lipped pedosmile?

And then, of course, I’d switch the two of them to try and fix my perceived abomination and be met with this smoldering goodness

How on earth do you improve coquettish, spicy perfection?

I ended up tinkering with his mouth a little bit more and getting a move on. 

I walked around my new suburban home, talking to the adorable robot butler Codsworth and checking out a few things I missed my first time around. 

Interestingly enough, I found this: 


Now, having played as the wife, I was made aware that she was a lawyer. What I had not known was that the player character is not a lawyer if they play as the husband and not as the wife. I wasn’t really aware that Bethesda had decided to differentiate between the two characters, since, let’s face it, one takes priority over the other depending on who you choose. So, hey, one’s a lawyer, at least one of them is a war vet, and that’s normally WAY more characterization than you get in most Bethesda “blank-slate protagonist” games, all the domestic background stuff notwithstanding. 

Woop, there’s a knock at the door. I answer it while our robot butler goes to change our baby’s diaper, and it turns out to be everyone’s favorite solicitor - Vault-Tec guy! 

Wow. I really like the facial animations in this game, like really a lot. They’re pretty damn good for an RPG. But by God, something wrong happened to this guy’s mouth. That thing’s flappin’ around like someone numbed his lower lip and strung up the muscles in his top lip to the wrong parts of his face. Yeesh, guy, no wonder people don’t want to buy apocalypse insurance from you. 

Sales Man wants me to give him my information so that he can incorporate the delectably spicy wonder that is me into the Vault-Tec community. I needed a name, and I needed to assign my stats. 

I knew exactly the kind of character I wanted to play, and I gave him a fitting name - an old favorite among my friends. 

He shall be named Alicante Costa, the roguish and dashing fighting man. He is a kind and chivalrous pugilist, and a champion of the weak. He eats steaks raw and defecates justice for the common man. He is certainly not named after a poorly translated minotaur.

Now to assign my stats. Oh, woah, I only have 21 points to spend? Eesh. 

Strength? Hell yeah, he’s musclebound. Make that an 8 outta 10.

Perception? That stat they use for guns? Absolutely not. Guns are a coward’s tool. Alacante Costa is no coward. That gets left at a 1. 

Endurance, the health stat! Alicante Costa can take a punch. Or a bullet. Or a rocket. Make it a 6. 

Charisma... Ah, Charisma. Alicante Costa shall be a leader of men (and also women), a lover of women (and maybe also men), and a real smooth talker. You better believe that’s a 6. 

Intelligence. Now, I wanted to make smart, but it appears that will have to wait for some levels-up. That gets a 3, and Alicante’s status as a dashing warrior genius will have to wait a little bit. 

Agility. Agility? Agility!? You mean that stat that you use to sneak?? ALICANTE COSTA WOULD NEVER FIGHT AN UNAWARE OPPONENT. STEALTH IS FOR THE WEAK. LEAVE THAT AT A 1

He does, however, sometimes need a little Luck. That gets a 3. 


After the New Mr. Costa bids adieu to the Vault-Tec guy, he is informed that somehow, beyond all odds, Codsworth has changed our baby’s diaper. 

Seriously, look at this guy. I love him to death, but do you see any limbs on there that wouldn’t destroy the lower half of a baby? Keep in mind that, in-game, that nozzle thing is normally a flamethrower.

Baby’s still crying, though, so I go to his room to calm him with my Patronly Handsomeness. Though Shaun, the baby, is slightly immune as a result of his Handsomeness Genes, it still calms him down immediately. 

And then... All hell breaks loose. News Anchor Ron Perlman informs us that the button has been pressed. Most people in the continental United States are going to burn under a wall of nuclear fire. 

Good thing we got that vault membership three minutes ago! 

My sumptuous lawyer wife and I grab our baby and bolt sexily for Vault 111, which is down the street, I guess. Small world, right? We run through the golden-orange paradise of autumn Boston foliage that totally won’t be contrasted later with the dead brown of the Commonwealth Wasteland. 

We make our way past the military blockade outside of Vault 111, and are led to the vault’s elevator entrance. I know the people with us; I know their names, their faces, and they know us. It’s a humbling moment to be here with people whose homes and loved ones will perish under the same bombs from which we all share sanctuary. 

Well, except for the portly couple who are just named NEIGHBORS. They must have just moved in. They’re cool too though I guess.

And then, the bombs drop. A mushroom cloud erupts in the distance and Alicante and his wife shield their baby from the shockwave, but it is too late. They, and everyone at the vault entrance, are fried to a radioactive crisp. 

Just kidding. The elevator descends to safety. 

When we reach the vault below, we meet the very kind and super trustworthy Vault 111 staff. The Costa family is set up with form-fitting vault jumpsuits which cause the vault staff and the rest of the dwellers to suffer fainting fits/have their eyes bug out of their heads and go AWOOGA at the very sight of them, and we make our way to a series of intimidating metal coffins that are definitely totally decontamination chambers.

The lids close, and a deep-freeze mist descends from nozzles along the chamber’s interior. Turns out they’re cryogenic freezing chambers. My wife, our baby and I are put into a deep sleep for years. Whoops!

I only awaken when a strange scarred man, his faceless goons in tow, open my wife’s casket. My limbs, frozen and barely functional, cannot yet tear off the lid of this steel prison, and I am forced to watch as the scarred man steals my baby from my wife... after shooting her in the head. 

The cur. The sniveling butcher. He has stolen from me both lights of my life. 

I shall hunt him like the coward mongrel he is. I will follow him through whatever remains of this blasted land, through whatever allies may be unfortunate enough to call him brother, through the directionless bog of my own anger and despair, and I will bring him to justice. After I give him the honorable fight he denied my wife, I will bring him to his knees, and I will end his life with my bare hands.

And then, I will find my son. 

Afterword: I really like this game, guys. I know that it’s been very polarizing with the bugs and some of the changing features, but I’ve been enjoying the everloving heck out of it.

Full disclosure, here: I have mixed feelings about the Fallout franchise. The idea of wandering a dead world covered in scrap and poison seems far less appealing than exploring a land teeming with life and mysticism like, say, the Elder Scrolls series. Everything grandeurous in the Fallout universe is either decrepit or made out of corrugated metal. Where’s the adventure in that? 

So why the hell do I like these games so much? I guess they’re just that fun. 

The characters are great and bordering on unforgettable, the dungeons tend to be well-designed, quests are consistently a freaking blast, and some of the pulpy sci-fi is generally amusing - or, in the case of Fallout: New Vegas’s “Old World Blues,” it’s downright hilarious. These games have consistently defied my lack of interest in their setting and given me something to sink my teeth into, and they will always have my respect for that. 

And yes, I am aware that grandeurous is not a word. It sounds nice, though, don’t it? 

Tune in next time for the continuing adventures of Alicante Costa! 

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