Wear What The Players Are Wearing: Fill & Download for Free

I’ve two ideas:The MarinersThe lore: The original members were guests on a cruise ship that had just left New York City when the bombs dropped. Some died from the radiation, others became ghouls (the sane kind), and the rest were fine. Eventually, their ship ran out of supplies and became overcrowded. So, they returned to NYC and took a new home - the former USS Intrepid, where unlike our universe, she was only taken out of service in 2067, and was nuclear powered and was still in reserve. They took the ship and made it like Rivet City, but still movable. They also took ferry boats, as not everyone could fit on the USS Intrepid. By then, they had gathered former US navy ships crewed by descendants of US Navy and Marine personell. Eventually, they staked an outpost on Govenor’s Island, where the player will initially meet them. Their motives are to re conquer some of the wasteland in the New York area so that they can finally return to the land that their ancestors lived in.Technology and tactics: the Mariners use old US military tech derived from the technology on the Intrepid. They use mostly laser guns and assault rifles. They are well organised, a skill they picked up when they manned the Intrepid as well as from the lessons from the descendants of the Navy/Marines. On land, they work in squads, with experiece gained from raiding parties that gathered supplies. The elite soldiers wear T51AQ (T51AQuatic) power armor, a slimmed down aquatic version of the T51B power armor.Motive: They want a large portion of land to settle in, and to take back NYC from the mutants that live there. (Super mutants, feral ghouls, and other indegenous mutants [maybe put in Nosalis or Watchmen from Metro :D]).Grand Central CityLore: A city that is nestled in Grand Central Station, that works in a manner similar to the stations in the Metro series. They’ve blocked off most of the tunnels to prevent entry, but one is open to allow an armored train to reach the ruins of Albany, where they have a supply outpost.Tech: not much, their best weapons are combat rifles bought from the BoS or found in a guard garrison from the station, and heavy machine guns. They have an armored train which is just four subway cars that are armored with scrap metal. Machine guns arm the train. The elite soldiers wear medium combat armor.Motive: they are a city. That’s all.I hope you liked this!

I think for the most part, Brits secretly admire the American’s optimism and naivety, ability to speak to others and to risk finding themselves in the most dreaded English situation- embarrassment.Boy did I get into trouble when I first got here. There are countless stories of me doing “Stupid American Tricks” as they became known.Biggest thing I learned was that if you can’t laugh at yourself, if you can’t tolerate it when others rib you, you are doomed.First day of uni- I’d been in the country a couple of months roaming around awestruck by all the wondrous places I had only ever read about, but now I had to get down to business. Someone sat next to me an asked if I’d brought lunch. “I have banana bread” I said.Someone said “What?” So I repeated it. And they kept asking. The mimicked my very American pronunciation of Ba-NA-nah. Peels of laughter (sorry, puns … you know) made me feel smaller and smaller. After several rounds, feeling very ashamed, small and humiliated, I stopped answering.When I got home, and hubby asked how it went. I told him everyone hated me, they all made fun of me, and I didn’t know how I was going to survive this.He got me to tell the story, and he started to laugh, too. He said “Here, when you like someone, you make fun of them. It’s called taking the piss. They like you.”I said “What do you do to show you love someone, stab them in the eye with a pencil?” I clearly was not embracing my Inner Englishwoman.The next day, when people asked what I had for lunch, I said “Tuna”. In my twang, it sounded like “TWO-nah”.It’s pronounced Chuna here. You can guess what happened.Sigh. But I got even when they asked me to make the tea on placement.I left the teabags in the water. :)That’s when I learned taking the piss is one thing, messing with the tea is an entirely different level. Oh well. When challenged I said “I’m from Boston. We chucked in the water there, and left it, I never had to go back in the Harbour after it (alluding to the Boston Tea Party) I thought that’s how it was done…” and they laughed, and I lived, and it started getting easier.Here are some other things that don’t fly very well.That English spelling or words are “wrong”. If you are in UK, it’s colour, honour, etc. It’s also Aluminium. Speak as you like, but respect it’s English, but not as you know it. Laughing at someone for saying conTROVohsee instead of the US CON-trow-ver-sea isn’t going to endear you. If you visit here, you’re the one with the accent, not us.Everything’s smaller here. Cars, fridges, houses… yes, thank you, we know. Small island. Lots of people. It’s how we cope.Yes, if Disney were in charge of the Tower of London it would be a marvel. But, it’s our history. Just accept it as it is. Nothing irks people here more than “In America, we would do this better”. If you want to impress the socks off a Brit, show sincere interest and awe at the history you will find here. And don’t ask why we keep ruins of castles. We just do.Don’t ever cut a queue. It’s better to dance naked in the street. If you cut a queue you will not be subject to any direct confrontation, but every person who saw you will mutter something about how long they have been waiting and say “nothing, nothing at all” when you ask them what they said. It’s the most cringeworthy feeling ever. to make matters worse, not all queues look like queues. It’s a game we play to see if you’re paying attention.Don’t tell us it’s not football as its not like American football. Call it soccer when you are in US but here, as our players use their feet to move the ball, it’s football. And don’t get into a football rivalry. It’s pretty much better to call someone’s mother a foul name than insult their football team. English football fans are not generally known for their tolerance. Don’t wear a football jersey because you like the logo or colour… you can get into some trouble, and not all locations allow people in who are wearing football shirts.Don’t say “Cricket’s like baseball!” because it’s not. And, if you got tickets to Lord’s, or any international test match, but didn’t understand a thing, don’t expect us to explain as a)we don’t completely understand either or b)how the hell did they let you into that ground/ that game? And yes, we know, the players aren’t in the middle of the field. We cope.Beer is not warm here unless you get it that way from the supermarket. Ask for a warm beer in a pub and people will laugh. Alot.Know the difference between Scotland, Northern Ireland, Wales, England and Ireland and their relation to the United Kingdom, don’t assume they are all the same thingStrike the words “But that’s not how we do it!” from your mind until you are back in US. If we do it that way here, it’s how we do it. They serve pancakes for dessert. No one understands maple syrup on bacon. They serve lasagna with chips in pubs here. They serve chips with chips. Come to think of it, we make sandwiches from chips. A Chip Butty is one of those heavenly snacks that you never knew you were missing. Big chunky chips with salt and vinegar on buttered bread. And you yanks say our food isn’t gourmet. You can make them from crisps too, but the chip ones are best.Have some clue to the geography of the country. You know how you roll your eyes when people visiting the US think you can take a bus from New York to Miami for an afternoon visit? Well, have some sense of where things are… it’s not hard, we are small, compact and perfectly formed.“Oh wow, is this called Cheddar after the cheese?” No, the cheese is called Cheddar after this place. “Why is it called a Melton Mowbray pie?” Because it’s from Melton Mowbray. Don’t be impressed. Jut embrace all the wonderful things you find here.Being American by birth, and English by choice, I’ve seen friends and compatriots make these mistakes (and I made a few myself)… people here in UK are good natured about most of them. To be honest, they expect Americans to be arrogant, big-headed and self-impressed, so anything you do to disprove that will score you points.

I am the same age as Sean Connery and Clint Eastwood.In Dog-years that is really really ancient.I am shorter than either, but heavier than both. I am not sure if that makes up for it.I was once the captain of the school basketball team. But it was in the UK and we didn't have pom-pom girls.Here I am on the diving boat in Italy. The man with the beard was Reg Vallintine: once the British Spearfishing champion; he could swim down over 30m on one breath. I could only do 20m.One day we found a Etruscan wreck near the harbour. It was over 2000 years old, and at the time the oldest wreck ever found. They made a TV about it, and a book (Tarquin's Ship Alexander McKee).Tarquin's Ship - Google SearchThe man behind was an Italian called Constantino who helped with the boat; he was always friendly. I thought he was a fisherman One day when getting the boat refueled Reg noted he never paid for the gas. Constantino said he didn't need to because he owned the gas station. I later discovered he was a millionaire.The girls come with the job.I once lived on a desert island called Zembra in North Africa. I taught scuba diving. I was twice nearly bitten by sharks, and had a friend who was killed by a shark.This is me with one of my students In Tunisia who I taught to dive.Her name is Dominique. She spoke several languages; was a qualified pilot, and a racing car driver.She learnt quickly.I went almost totally deaf in a diving accident, but I can hear well with hearing aids.I once lived on a sheep farm in Australia. I slept in an old chicken hut. I learnt to shoot rabbits for the sheep dogs. I was quite good.I also dug ditches on the railway there. Later I worked making cosmetics. I became allergic to scents and never went out with ladies who wore scents as it made me sneeze.After making scents I worked as a lab technician taking X-rays of clay minerals.We studied a mineral called Vermiculite which expands tremendously when you heat it; it is used for insulation and fire proofing.Here is a picture of me as a lab technician.It was taken in 1954 when the transistor was invented (I think). It introduced me to computers as the laboratory got all the latest science manuals.Eight years later (1962) I went to New York to write about computers, and eight years after that (1970) I won one in a New Scientist competition for predicting that one day films would be made with computers, and showed a piece of punched tape to explain what they would look like.I once briefly lived in a penthouse in New York next door to Charlston Heston - but I never met him.I was working as a scriptwriter in Madison Avenue (Mad avenue) in 1962. I met a nice Jewish girl there, and she explained about Jewish history to me. She bought me a fur hat for Christmas. I still wear it and think of her; she was called Barbara.Here is the fur hat, Barbara, and Pennsylvania.By coincidence, the hotel manager was English and had been to the same school as I hadI am on top of the Empire State Building in 1962, but we weren't struck by lightning.While in NY I went to the jazz clubs in Greenich Village, and Miles Davis put his whisky glass on my table. I momentarily believed in God.I once acted as Superman in a French film in Paris; it was called Fantorro. I murdered a man, but it wasn't real, and I didn't have to practice on anyone.Fantorro le dernier justicier (1973)I was once a sailor doing my National Service. I had and argument with the Captain of the ship, and I jumped ship in Australia. I had a warrant out for my arrest for two years. I gave myself up, but the police said they knew anyway and let me stay.Me bottom right on a tanker.I once lived in Montreal. I tried to learn French, but people there don't speak proper French (so my French friends tell me). But it didn't matter as everyone speaks American anyway (at least to me).Here is a French-Canadian girl talking to me in American. It was 1962 and my films had just won two awards. They are called The Flying Man, and The Apple.French Canadian girls like people who win awards. They also like other people.I don't know what she is saying, but it looks like "forget it".I worked at the National Film Board of Canada, and met Norman McLaren, who was a great hero of mine.I asked him if it was possible to hypnotise people using film. He had made some experimental films with spiraling circles changing colours. I added a soundtrack of a hypnotist.When we screened it, the audience quickly walked out as it made them seasick. A hypnotist told it had affected their sense of balance.I once lived on a tiny island called Giglio in Italy. The Italian word for ice cream is Gelato. It is the best ice cream in the world.I used to know the word for ice cream in eleven different languages, but not Chinese, but I never went there anyway.I once played in a band in New Zealand. The stage scenery fell on top of us while we were playing, but the leader shouted to us to keep playing.This is me playing in a band in Naples. The scenery didn't fall down this time. That was good as I was not insured.I once lived in a commune on a boat in London. The boat leaked when the tide came in if someone forgot to put the bilge plug in. When it leaked the cats would sleep on my bunk as it was the only dry place. We had nine cats.Here are some of my shipmates on the boat (a Thames barge)Against my advice as an ex-sailor, they built a raft to sail down the Thames. I had to call the River Police to rescue them, and then I sold the story to a newspaper and we had a party on the proceeds.I was once mugged at knife point, but I talked to the burglar and told him to take care of his daughter, then let him out of the house. He was caught a few days later; he was 15. I wondered who will take care of his daughter.I once wanted to be a painter. I liked Op-Art, but everyone was doing it in the 1960's. Here are some of my paintings.I couldn't afford nude models at the time, and the other girls thought I made them look like explosions.I was once in a car crash near Venice. The car was smashed up, and turned upside down in a ditch full of water. It flooded over me, but I got out with a bruised knee.We were helped by an Italian ex-soldier. He told us he had been a prisoner of war caught by the Australians, and had such a good time with them he wanted to go to Australia. The car driver was Australian. He is the one playing the clarinet in the band photo above. His name is Nick Politis and is a very famous Dixieland player, and still plays regularly even though nearly ninety.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T6SYKT1y0BgI once taught elocution by using a tea cuphttp://vimeo.com/1061754I once met a Swedish lady and we had a daughter, but we parted. My daughter is beautiful (her mother was a Beauty Queen). She teaches History and plays drums with an all-girls band. Here she is playing in her bandI never played with an all-girls band, not even as a musician.Here is a picture of my daughter's first birthday in 1982. Her name is Maya. She lives in Australia.I saw the word Maya in an article where is said Maya means 'A dream come true' in the Indian language. But I think it really means 'an illusion'. The second is closer.I once drew a cat with the letters MIOWThe Cat was made into a TV series for childrenhttp://www.henryscat.comI taught Special Needs children how to draw pictures using letters of the alphabet. Each one had to make a picture with their own name.You can learn here.Make MoviesI got an award for this, and met the Prime Minister of the time - Tony Blair.We only met for two seconds though. It was not my fifteen minutes of fame promised by Andy Warhol. Perhaps the rest will come later.So, what does it feel like to be old?It's a bit like this, with a cat that has luminous eyes and sleeps on its back.From time to time something reminds you of the past.You remember things.Mostly nice things.There is a tendency to reminisce, meander, and ramble when talking and writing about the past, and I wonder if anyone is listening, reading, or caring much.But that is not feeling old, it's more like wondering if there isn't something better I could be doing.There is of course, but I can't be bothered. That's it.When you get old you feel you can't be bothered because most things don't matter that much.Or not as much as they used to.Or not as much as they ever should have done.I just wish I had known that then when I was younger.EDITThanks for your comments and votes.It makes an old man happy that so many care.I have sent a telepathy to you all.If you have not received it, check in your Junk telepathy folderStan Hayward