RWBY react to Storyteller

Vegas and Gold

FALLOUT Lore: Ch.8 – Mr. House's New Vegas

They don't make 'em like they used to. Of course, they don't make much of anything anymore, but back before the war they built most things to last. Just about all of the robots puttering around the wasteland were constructed back in the twenty first century, and the amazing thing is, they're still functional after two hundred years. Most of them were made by the General Atomics Corporation, but the Securitrons that are rolling around New Vegas? Those were made by a competing company called RobCo Industries. It's no coincidence that New Vegas is crawling with RobCo robots, because the same man who founded the company back in the twenty first century is still calling the shots there today. He's over two hundred and fifty years old by now, but time hasn't slowed him down at all. He's a real pre-war industrialist, and they don't make 'em like that anymore.

"I think I like this RobCo boss." Coco said.

"Who can live for 250 years?" Ruby ask. In Ozpin office, Ozpin sneeze.

*House making a robot*

Robert House was born in a time when men were only expected to live about a hundred years, let alone close to three hundred. There are a few other unusual individuals out there who've managed to stay alive for that long one way or another. No one's actually seen Mr House, so some folk think he might have been one of the very first ghouls, gifted with long life, but cursed with a rotting radioactive body. Others think he might be a mutant – The Forced Evolutionary Virus grants indefinite life to mutants, but the first mutants didn't appear in Vegas until decades after the war, and House would have probably died of old age by that time.

"How did he live that long?" Coco ask.

His associates in New Vegas say he's just a resourceful man who preserved himself somehow – kept himself going all this time on the best life-support equipment that pre-war society had to offer. He set up shop inside one of the big casinos on the Vegas strip back before the war, and hasn't set foot out since. He only communicates through computer screens, so as far as anyone knows he could be a brain in a jar, or just a sentient computer that thinks it's a man.

"A computer has no soul." Weiss said.

'Don't you dare say that about Penny.' Ruby thought.

We do know a lot about House's life from before the war, thanks to history books. He was quite a flamboyant figure before the bombs fell, consorted with starlets, mingled with heads of state, and built robots for the military, so his exploits were gossiped about in books, magazines and holotapes.

*House in a Casino*

He was born in New Vegas around 2020, back when it was called "Las" Vegas. He came from a wealthy family, but was orphaned at a young age, then cheated out of his family fortune. Mr. House didn't need to inherit his family's wealth however, because he inherited something far more precious; his father's business acumen and knack for engineering. It didn't take long for him to amass a fortune of his very own.

"I bet I could get rich like that to." Coco said. Coco came from a rich family, not only does she have a good sense of fashion but also business.

House founded RobCo in 2042 while he was barely in his twenties. Made a fortune building robots, including those clunky Protectron robots that are still clomping their way around the wasteland. Those bucket of bolts are slow and not too bright, but they're durable and versatile enough that they're used all over the country. Modified Protectrons have been turned into everything from a Sheriff to a Sexbot... for the more rugged technophiles that is.

The girls froze hear about the Sexbot. "The fuck." Yang.

The technophiles also love another product from RobCo. The PIP Boy "Personal Information Processor". They were issued to everyone inside the Vaults, probably to make it easier for Vault-Tec to monitor how their little "Social Experiments" were progressing. But those little gadgets were built to last, and plenty of notable Vault Dwellers have used that old RobCo tech to make their way through the wasteland.