I submit a walking nightmare.
- Polly O'leary AKA Polly Pyro ~ Is clearly still a work in progress.
- This character dose not yet appear in any game.
The more I read back what I've written here, the more it's clear how Dr. Frankenstein was the real Monster. Like wise IMO Polly should not be judged responsible for her state of existence. She is the toxic Fallout of her environment.
Proposed companion notes: "Polly Pyro"
A troubled young woman with an even more troubling past. "Polly Pyro" puts the full definition of mania in to Pyromania and her related skills. She has potential to be a challenging combatant or a lethally skilled Next Generation companion.
Polly Pyro is an accidentally inflicted idiot savant. Her hatefully crude and cruel lobotomy like abuses have gifted her with redirected focus in the fields of melee weapons, explosives, improvised weapon design, pyromania and gourmet cooking.
- Polly is indeed a mixed bag of nuts.
Background. As more truth be told, the sadder it gets. You been warned.
Borne at home on a Wednesday sometime around 2264 (Give or take a few years), Penelope, AKA, Polly, O'leary's birthday was just the beginning of her woeful days. By sad coincidence, the only doctor for a hundred hellish miles with skill enough to deal with the sudden medical complications was the same woman who to quickly gave up her own life in the act of birthing "Polly".
The town, for the most part quietly mourned the loss of Dr. O'leary, while some few others just abandoned the site as if it were no more than a bog side village that no longer promised waist land health care.
With the death of Doctor O'leary, Mr O'leary just fell into his chem research. He had considered his wife as a partner in what he saw as joint research, but with out her bright leadership he got lost. Always looking for more plant and mutant extracts. He told himself it was the best way to honor the passing of his wife.
- Even he knew it was a selfish lie. Mr. O'leary just wanted an excuse to get away from his own baby. He blamed Polly for killing his wife.
So contrary to everything his wife ever stood for Mr. O'leary's spent a small fraction of his wife's savings to purchase a slave to care for poor Little miss Polly. The rest he squandered seeking ever more exotic components to test on him self.
The more Mr. O'leary told himself he was doing it "FOR SCIENCE" the deeper he fell into addiction and addiction fed his grief for a lost wife and a resentment for the child he saw as the one who took her life.
Early on Mr.O'leary became more and more angry as all the family money continued to hemorrhage and even more villagers moved out. Beating his female slave and intimidating his beautiful daughter soon became the favorite pastime for Mr. O'leary as his homemade chems and ever increasingly cheaper quality of alcohol products began to disappoint the few locals that remained paying customers. Mean wile, the whole of their village became little more than dwellings for an ever more collapsing community.
Even at 5 years of age, sweet, Innocent little miss Polly was a bright child, full of love and wonder for all the world. Her slave mistress taught Polly the basics of reading and writing but in no time sweet Polly was soon reading not only her own original child like stories of hope and glory but texts from her mother's far more advanced small library of skill books relating to science, medicine, repairing old tech, theoretical science and survival techniques...
- Most of all things little Polly just enjoyed learning, her favorite topics where books with detailed illustration relating to melee weapon techniques, improvised explosives and cooking booth, gourmet and campfire survival style.
Little Polly was a treasure for the post apocalyptic world and her slave nanny saw it all to well. So one night she attempted to sneak Polly away from her abusive father but they were captured near a small hole in the still gated communities perimeter. The slave was beaten and they booth were dragged back to the O'leary's house where Mr. O'leary, obviously wishing to save face claimed the slave had drugged him, robed his house and kidnapped his daughter.
After the slave was tortured for three days, the whole town turned out with young Polly in tow to witness the execution at the neighborhood's cul-de-sac's center.
- Polly's birth mother had died just five years and some odd months earlier. Now she would be forced to watch as the only mother she ever knew was bound, gagged and burned at the stake to the joyful cheers of her neighbors. It was only at the end when the gag melted away that the child could here the breathless gasps for mercy from the only living person to ever show her love and even this was all but completely muffled by the courses of the self perceived pious mob.
As years past sweet miss Polly O'leary became a slave in her own fathers house. She cooked, cleaned tinkered in the shed to build and repair small appliances to make there life better and most of all she took his beatings with out complaint and always sought to prove her unconditional love.
The crafting of a psychopath
Little miss Penelope O'leary could have been anything, a great Doctor, an inventor, scientist, a culinary artist or a compassionate leader in most any field.
From the time she was a mere child growing into a creative, well spoken tween, her graceful brilliance only became more evident. She was a beautiful, free spirited young girl with raven hair and compelling bight blues eyes, just like her mother before her. She had such gifts and yet those very strengths, those things that made her so much like the woman who died giving her life, it was those same traits that bore into her fathers soul with an ever growing resentment.
Yet still Polly doted on her father, the more he denied her affection, the more adoringly she worshiped the sound of his voice no matter how cruel and cutting his remarks to her were intended to be.
The years had passed, her father's grief at the loss of his wife was now an excuse too long ago exhausted.
- While sorrow had been a contributing factor to her father's depression. It was at last his own self centered nature and escapist chem experimentation that lead to his addictions and resulting bouts of pure madness that now controlled him.
Mr. O'leary was a monster of his own creation. He stole way to the shed and bolted the door from the inside for half a week and when ever Polly approached, ever so gently, lovingly tapping on the door to offer him food and fresh water he would kick at the wall demanding "GET TO YOUR BED BITCH !" "I'm working on your birthday present"...
- It was the whispering hint of a present that disturbed sweet little Miss Polly the most.
When her father finally came back into the house, he just stood there in the living room, still wearing his tool belt, his coveralls now smeared with newly dried lead base paint, a screw driver in his right hand and an odd shaped thing wrapped in a oily shop rag in his left. He waited as Polly cautiously entered, timid as a fawn, barely aware of a near by predator. He turned his eyes to her and commanded, "Come her child." Hands submissively crossed, with her head bowed down Polly did as she was told with a reply of "Yes Daddy".. Mr. O'leary held her there in his cold gaze for a long moment before again demanding, "You know what today is child." Polly meekly shook her head and said "No Daddy, I don't. I'm sorry Daddy." Mr. O'leary's voice soften for a moment as he quietly lamented "You look so much like her, so much like her.." and then he said something he had never said to Polly before, he said "Look at me."
Polly looked up and for the first time in her life she was allowed to look her father in the eye. Her stunningly bright and innocent blue eyes widened at the sight as she desperately searched the face of this man she so unconditionally worshiped with all her heart and soul. This was the first time her eyes were allowed to meet the gaze of her own father.
Mr. O'leary spoke in a distant almost absent minded tone as one might use when speaking aloud to them self, "Has it really been thirteen years?".. Poor hopeful Polly assumed he was actually speaking directly to her face without shouting, without anger in his voice, without immediately "showing her, her place" with the back of his hand or a taste of his boot. Pitifully naive and trusting Polly could not recognize, she was looking into the eyes of a demon borne of self abuse. Foolishly she some how still expected love when she dutifully, even joyfully inquired, "What Daddy ?, What was thirteen years ago?.. Daddy ?, "Oh please, please do tell me Daddy?.." "I would so love for you to tell me Daddy!"
It was then she watched in horror as the milky white washed away from his eyes and the blood shot veins spread with crimson rage his lips curled back and the stink of Hell billowed out of him as hot breath and foaming spit fell upon her face when he screamed, "THAT WAS THE DAY YOU KILLED HER!!" With the handle of his screwdriver he then struck Polly to the ground and continued to shout, "MY BEAUTIFUL WIFE!!" He then fell upon her with the full weight of his knees pinning her body and arms to the floor. "TODAY IS THE SAME DAY YOU MURDERED YOUR MOMMY !!", he further would rant as he unwrapped his present form it's oily cloth trappings. "It's your BIRTHDAY!!"
With no breath in her lungs Polly wished she could scream as her mind resounded "OH DADDY I'M SORRY.." "PLEASE DADDY " "I'M SORRY !!" DADDY, DADDY.. I'M SORRY DADDY !!! I'M SORRY !!!!
Banishing Hope
His vengeance at hand, Mr. O'leary mercilessly taunted his victim, his child, his own daughter on her thirteenth Birthday. His gift was pure perversion of nature and morality! Hand crafted, waist land hardwood, a two piece baby doll mask. He now clacked the jaw and face plates together making them click and clank mocking speech in wicked puppetry to match his harsh words.. "I can no loner bear to look at you", "You looking soo much, so much like HER!" "So I made us booth A PRESENT !!!"
He then slapped the jaw piece upon her's and with cruel determination slowly, slowly set to his craft humming Happy Birthday to you as his tools pierced flesh, bone and raw nerve, he found himself amazed at how little she struggled under his torturer's grip. How could he know even with these acts of pure evil, with her blood already seeping deep, soaking and staining the raw wood inside the mask, he could have no idea that even still she loved him like a dark God punishing it's most devoted worshiper.
Through it all Polly's bright ghostly blue eyes shined out from behind the mask. He wanted her to scream, to thrash out, to fight, to force him to kill her! When the hate filled thing was at last fastened to her skull at temple and brow his hands began to tremble.. To late to stop himself, Mr O'leary continued his labor even as she watched him with those eyes so like the woman he loved, and he tried so to blame her "YOU DID THIS!.." "It's your fault" "YOU KNOW THAT.."YOU know that.." "Don't you,.. Polly ?.."
The task took hours and he still never knew that even as he hand cranked the final wood screws into her brain her only thoughts where, "Yes Daddy, Yes Daddy, Polly is your girl." "Polly will learn..." She thought it again and again until mercifully her consciousness fled from her entirely and she fell limp.
For two days and three nights Mr. O'leary sat sleeplessly watching over the body of the last person on earth to have so much as cared if he lives or died. Undeniably confronted with depths of his sin, on the third day he began to morn at last and he bemoaned his own wretchedness aloud, ""Oh what have I done?.." "Polly,.."Polly please forgive me Polly?" "OH GOD! Polly forgive me!" Then suddenly he heard her all too familiar voice again "Yes Daddy." He doubted his whits but there she sat bolt up straight, wearing that accused mask, yet speaking to him as if it where any other Sunday mourning "Yes Daddy, Polly is your girl." "Polly will learn." It was literally far to much for him to stomach as he vomited uncontrollably, staggering out side and stumbled back into his shed escaping once more into a collection of chems and slightly toxic bathtub gin.
Final Decent
Time lost all meaning to Mr. O'leary's polluted brain and thanks to his wood screws dear little Polly was far beyond such concerns as well. It could have been another lost day under the influence or it might have been a week, it's not like his rock gut poison was the only supply in town, his customers knew he was an alcoholic junkie, if he did not answer the door they'd just head down the block to get their fix. Most every one had a little some thing on the cooker at various stages of brewing. Still when Mr. O'leary did rise to a state that counted for him as consciousness he discovered he was no longer in the shed, he was in his bed, wrapped in clean sheets with fresh flowers on his nightstand and the smell of something wonderful to eat wafting on a breeze from down stairs. He rose to find his best clothes not in a moldy ball behind the door but clean and ironed with crisp pleats, his socks where darned and even his boots had been brought to what passed for a waist land spit shine with a mixture of oil, ash and black clay. It all seemed like a glorious fantasy. The shutters and windows were all opened wide to let the light in.
Mr. O'leary thought for a moment "the house had not seemed like such a home since.." "Since her !!" It struck him like a lightning bolt, what he had done.. In this squalid community of hypocrites he knew his neighbors all to well, if they saw what he had done to his daughter, he knew they would burn him as they did his slave so many years ago.. Panicked beyond the ability to speak he bolted down the stairs, his mind screaming "WHERE THE HELL IS SHE!!" "OH GOD, OH GOD, OH GOD WHAT IF SHE'S FOUND!!!"..
All traces of regret, remorse or responsibility for his actions where swept away in an adrenaline rush of guilty fear at being caught. He tore about the house, room to room, slamming shutters and ripping curtains closed. When suddenly there was Polly in the kitchen, quietly setting a lovely table despite the jerky motions of her limbs. Mr. O'leary did not hesitate to notice he just bowled her over with a flying tackle and demanded of her "WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU?" "DID'T YOU HEAR ME CALLING GOD DAMN IT !?!"..
- Clearly non pulsed, Polly simply looked up from the kitchen floor where he held her painfully pined and answered in an all to calm, even tone, "I have been here Daddy." "I am sorry Daddy." "I did not hear you Daddy." I would have answered Daddy." "I am sorry Daddy." "Polly is your Girl." "Polly will learn.." All he could say was "What the Hell?.." He began to realize he'd broken something in her mind.., but for now, there would be time to worry for such things later. His crime had not been discovered yet and he intended to keep it that way. There was a chance for him, and for her, if it worked.. He might keep her hidden, well out of site..
Before the great war of 2077 the entire neighborhood had been an affluent, private lake side properties, gated community. The large yards would help to keep prying eyes at a distance from three sides and no one would bother trying to cross the boggy remains of lake St. Clare in the back with is methane gas erupting pockets between growing islands of peat moss and sucking pits of quick sand like mud. There were only the rarest naturally occurring slippery rock paths that more often than not had lead the adventurous to a quick boggy death. It was a fortifiable location.
He'd nail the shutters closed and padlock all the doors, no one would suspect his added security, the world was a dangerous place after all. It was the best plan he could conceive of. It was a plan he could improve on but for now Mr. O'leary would start by violently dragging his daughter into the basement.
So it went Polly would spend years locked away in a dimly lit basement only being let out long enough to cook and clean. However being treated like an unloved dog, out of sight led to a few less beatings and she had her work bench. She had always been creative before, yet as it turns out, while her crude lobotomy had crippled her social skills and most of her higher reasoning functions it had in some other ways made her a bit of an idiot savant. She now had an ingenious affinity for successful tinkering unlikely devices and what she could do in a kitchen would put the best chefs at the Ultra-Luxe to shame.
There were of course some close calls, one in perticular, after Mr. O'leary learned he could tell Polly to "Stay put" and she actually would not move with no more than a "Yes Daddy, Polly is your girl, Polly will stay." It seemed a patriarchy paradise until Mr. O'leary went out on a two day bender only to find Polly standing rock solid where she was told to stay in a pile of her own human waists at the brink of starvation and lethal dehydration.. Her first words to him were "Hello Daddy, I missed you Daddy" "Can Polly move now Daddy?"
As time pasted when Mr. O'leary would let Polly out of her dungeon to preform her chores he took to studying her in an offhand way as one might observe a bird of pray in a zoo. She had such odd behaviors, where once she moved with the abandonment of child like grace, now her every gesture and action was too quick and deliberate to seem human, She moved as a raptor. Her eyes rarely blinked, she no longer shifted her gaze to see but rather turned her whole head and shifted her body to lock her sight fully on what ever small thing that drew her attention.
Most disgusting of all in the lonely chem addled existence of Mr. O'leary, he began to find her odd ways some how alluring. Once upon a time this had been a man of science. Now Mr. O'leary was but a creature of foulest debauchery's instincts. He began to stalk his own daughter watching Polly's every slavish task, delighting in her submissive obedience to his every whim. He watched as she tinkered, he studied her as she cleaned, he salivated as she cooked and he lusted as she bathed.
Polly's life from the day of her birth had been a cruel series of insults upon injury and unforgivable abuse, so it should not be surprising that less than half a week from the eighteenth anniversary of her mother's death that a final nail should be driven into the casket that still held the remains of Polly's child like innocence trapped in her own already broken mind.
The Master of his house chose his moment... Deep into the January predawn hours Mr. O'leary crept down into his daughters cell and fell upon her with sudden violence.. He took her just as he had the nameless slave that he had burned at the stake years before...
Polly was his property and Mr. O'leary took no guff from a slave, so when when for the first time in her life, poor Polly O'leary found voice enough to beg "No Daddy" "PLEASE..?" "Don't hurt Polly?.." "Polly is.." Polly is your girl! ".... Her words fell into a deep well of rage and self loathing.
Polly O'leary had dared to say "No!". The breach of duty had at last met boiling point. No matter the sinful abuse that had been raked upon her before, burying Polly's childhood. Pure, was the rage of Mr. O'leary's sudden impotence and he meant to reclaim the illusion of his masculinity with repeated blows of fist and boot until he was sure his daughter could never say no again..
Sure enough as Polly again was pounded unconscious under the fell strokes of her father's unholy abuse, Mr. O'leary found sick, self reward and full release into the seams of his own pants before zipping up and stumbling out of Polly's prison to collapse on the stairs.
Liberation of the phoenix soul.
Again Polly would sleep for days but this time in the darkness she heard more than just the echo of her own voice. Real or imagined it was a voice she could not have remembered. Polly believed it was the voice of her mother speaking to her as if she were still in the womb.
When Polly awoke she dutifully set to task, crafting the tools she would need to preform the deeds commanded by a voice her head.
It was early on the evening of Polly's eighteenth birthday when she stood at the bed side looking down on the father she so loved in spite of all the wickedness he had visited upon her mind, body and soul.. Gently she called to him, "Wake up Daddy." "Please Daddy wake up?" "Momma tells Polly it is time you woke up Daddy." Wiping the still half drunk sleep from his eyes Mr. O'leary angrily cursed "GOD DAMMIT CHILD!" "What the hell are you do'n?" Again Polly replied in an all to calm and even tone. "I am sorry Daddy." "Momma tells Polly it is time you woke up." Utterly confused, Mr. O'leary swung his feet to the floor, sat up in bed, rubbing his head and demanded "Who.. ah, WHAT!?!" Polly Pyro was born at last into camp fire myth and legend as it would later be retold that her flaming sword moved with the force of a vengeful angle reforged in the fires of the Devil's own pit. Polly's Shishkebab struck home again and again punctuating her every word as she calmly, coolly and most deliberately explained "I am sorry Daddy." "Momma tells Polly there is a sickness in you." "Daddy, Polly is your girl." "Momma tells Polly the fires of Hell will burn you clean." "Polly will learn..."
Sliced and diced into flaming charbroiled chunks, bits of Mr. O'leary where scattered into every corner and set the house ablaze alerting the neighbors to raise the alarm and rush to see what had happened at the O'leary's house.
The padlocked and bolted front door was of little resistance to Polly's blade as she cleaved it with ease into flaming splinters. According to the few witnesses that showed sense enough to run for their lives Polly appeared to be nothing less than a demon bathed in the light of a growing inferno. Others foolishly sought to take up arms against her. They screamed "KILL THE FREAK!!!" They attacked her with shovels and axes they had brought to fight the fire. Polly cut down the first wave but so vastly out numbered and constantly pelted by random stones she was soon forced to flee as even more of the villagers pursued her with intent to kill.
The mob chased Polly from house to house as she sought to distract them with homemade incendiary grenades in the simple act of self defense. Around and around, time and again she would me forced to turn aside and run as she was blocked by high walls and spreading flames. The once grand gated community was soon fully ignited and Polly was forced to dash into the bog that had been her childhood playground.
The swampy remains of lake Saint Clare with it's methane geysers and peat moss islands where quickly set alight to cover her escape and further fuel the infamy of her name. So it was the legend of Polly Pyro began.
Locations of interest
Entering the nearby fortified town of Rose Row will allow the player multiple opportunities to find lots of wanted posters. Posters for Polly being the most prominent in town as she is the most spectacular monster of the moment and the closer you get to the Marshals office and the Town hall the more of them you find. As it turns out it is an election year so the Red, White and Blue are ever so boldly displayed along with a common campaign theme "Law & Order ~ Now & FOREVER ~ Rose Row REMEMBERS!"
Rose Row was a prominent trade town even before the great war of 2077 and while the orchards, groves and literal rows of rose bushes had long ago dried up the population still held onto past glory and considered their community the garden spot of the waists., but it was a pride born of paranoia. They spoke boldly of them selves, whistling past the graveyard all in an effort to deny their fears of all things that moved out side the security of their town's ever more increasingly complex makeshift wall emplacements.
Still the truth could be found as the player passed among the town's collection of citizens, caravan traders and bounty hunters. Fear was all most any ever really spoke of...
The whispered gossip and or open dialog with some key NPC's, revels some might claim to be refugees or relatives who lost loved ones due to Polly's rampage. Most speak of the bounty on Polly's head and tell varied accounts of what actually might have happened or more than few fantastically wild speculations...
No one would know where Polly is but most any that are willing to speak about her can provide a map marker to the now charred remains of Polly's home town, St. Clare's vista and this starts the quest line {Seeking Polly Pyro}.
- Note: St. Clare's vista might simply be stumbled upon with it's many Polly Pyro wanted posters plastered along the outer walls of the once proud gated community with the added graffiti "Rose Row REMEMBERS" this will add the Map marker for the town of Rose Row.
Polly's cove can like wise be found at any time but she will not appear until her story line is activated. ***
Seeking Polly Pyro
Polly's cove would be an unmarked location. A partially flooded cave complex hidden in a maze of dead end mini box canyon like rocky terrains that developed as a process of erosion and earthquakes that began with the formation of the North American continent and became exposed only in the years following the Great War.
Polly's Cove interior
At the heart of the cove is a domed cave with a natural vent above and a small rock shelf of flat rock that served well enough for a fire pit to warm the small space Polly claimed and it's crudely woven straw bed mat.
Interactions with the player character
If the "Seeking Polly Pyro" quest has been activated Polly O'leary may be found by following the sound of her crying. Entering Polly's cove requires the player character to crouch and hop upon the series of a few small rock ledges.
The womb like, close in space of Polly's cove would be to small for a "sneak" ranged attack, even with a stealth boy, this tight in anyone would be detected.
- The player character must now decide to "Exercise extreme prejudice" as ordered by Polly's wanted posters or open dialog with this armed and dangerous fugitive...
Note: Polly's mind has been so abused. Her smallest responses may seem well beyond damaged but it is unlikely that the depths of her pain shall ever be known.
- Asking why she is crying will grant the response. "Polly's Daddy is dead."
- Asking what has happened will grant the reply. "Momma told Polly Daddy was sick."
- Asking what are you doing here will open the dialog. "Polly is alone now."
- Asking why is she alone will begin a sad loop of child like responses that always seem to lead back to the same question..
* What has Polly done ? This question will be rewarded with the cold, almost emotionless, even toned answer. "Polly sent Daddy to Hell." "Daddy screamed that it hurt" "Polly loves her Daddy".. "Daddy dose not cry anymore..."
This far into the dialog a player character with an intelligence of at least 5 and a medicine skill of 50 or more may open new options to comment and ask.
Quote: "Those are three inch wood screws driven into your skull..You've been lobotomized! What kind of monster would do this?" With a bit of a twitch Polly would touch the mask and reply. "This was Polly's birthday present." "Polly's Daddy made it." "Polly loves her Daddy." "Polly lovers her present."
CAUTION as interaction continues.
Polly O'leary, also rightfully known as "Polly Pyro" might have the heart of an innocent child but she is indeed a dangerous character. Polly has the potential to be one of the most loyal, helpful and skilled companions ever presented to any Fallout series game but she is also the most tragically disturbed and so comes with the following warnings.
Polly Pyro is a master of Melee weapons, Explosives, Pyromania, Weapon design, and waist land food preparation. Still she has no sense of good, neutral or evil, only what she perceives as hostile intent. Polly is damaged beyond salvation and as such must always be considered a hazard to her self and others.
Polly Pyro is an accidentally inflicted idiot savant. Her hatefully crude and cruel lobotomy has gifted her with focus in the fields of melee weapons, explosives, improvised weapon making, pyromania and gourmet cooking.
- Polly is indeed a mixed bag of nuts.
Polly O'leary is bat shit on the brain kind of crazy and so it should be clear that if the player takes Polly as a companion, they should have expect some fallout.
After a few of the dialog options listed above, Polly might be recruited by saying.
- You need help. I am not asking.. You need to come with me.
- Wow this is gonna be to be CRAZY! I want you with me!
- You need help. Please follow me ?
Or
- I have a bad feeling about this but.. Come with me if you want to live.
Polly would be over joyed inside as she replies in the same dead, emotionless even tone. "Yes" "You can be Polly's new Daddy." "Polly is your girl."
If the player character is female a dialog option will be open.
- "Polly? You know I'm a girl to right ?.. Do I need to show you my boobs?"'
Polly would just twitch a bit like the nightmare girl she is and nod "Yes Daddy." "Polly is your girl." "Polly will learn." No matter how many times it is repeated, Polly will say the same "Yes Daddy." "Polly is your girl." "Polly will learn."'
Once recruited as a follower Polly would be loyal to a fault. If she was told "To stay and be a good girl" Polly would stay put and not even defend her self when attacked by any one or any thing other than the player.
- Polly would just take the NPC's damage and cry out "Help me Daddy" "Daddy please?" "Daddy it hurts." "Polly is your girl."
At any time after Polly is first encountered, even if she is an active companion, Polly may be taunted to battle with the following dialog.
- SAY HELLO TO DADDY !!!
- Hold still and I'll make this quick?
- This is gonna hurt, you crazy ass Bitch!
Or
- Damn, you leave me no choice..
Polly Pyro is a lethal opponent, she is a master of melee weapons and explosive with the added bonus of the pyromaniac perk. Her health levels with the player so if the player has 300 points of health Polly would have the same.
Consequences of traveling with a crazy person.
Leaving Polly to stay in one place for 3-4 game days will just break her heart and she will return to Polly's cove where she might later be again recruited. However, there should be approximately a 50% chance that if the player tries to verbally dismiss Polly, she might go full psycho and attack the player immediately.
Another topic that might twist poor Polly out of joint would be if the player had the "Lady Killer perk" and made inappropriate propositions of her. This should be dialog a wise player would only try once as Polly would reply "Old Daddy touched wrong. Mommy said No. Sick Daddy and so went to Hell. Polly sent Daddy there. Daddy was on fire before he splashed down. Polly will learn. New Daddy should to.." Just guess what would happen if the player asked a second time. (Polly has Daddy issues).
Polly's dealings with addiction
Since the Death of her father, Polly O'leary has developed clear issues with addiction, so any encountered waist land junkies would be a fair target to Polly Pyro. Likewise, Polly will not be recruited if the Player or any of their other companions are currently addicted. So a companion like Major Tom has the potential to upset the group.
- If the player character should become addicted while Polly is their companion, Polly will at first sound concerned but in a sad way sympathetic. As she might say "Aw poor, poor Daddy is sick." "Polly dose not like the look in new Daddy's eyes" or Polly might again go out of control, total bonkers, homicidal, (10 % cumulative chance per game day) and just attack the player as she did her abusive, chem addicted, alcoholic father.
It might be advisable just to tell Polly to "Stay and be a good girl" until either cured of the addiction or she returns to Polly's cove after three to four game days.
- Dismissing Polly until the addiction can be cured might avoid a conflict but then again Polly dose not handle rejection well. Telling Polly to leave might even have a greater chance of immediately setting off her most violent insane rampage. With a randomly generated chance of 50%.
Life with a price on your head
Most towns and villages will not cause a real problem for the Player and Polly so long as no one shows hostile intent in Polly's presence, but the Player should be aware of the possibility for chaos at any moment.
With Polly as a companion the player will randomly encounter hostile Bounty Hunters either alone or with up to five at a time working together. The Bounty hunters will have comparable skills and levels to any Talon company mercenary. They will shoot on sight with little to no notable dialog but their intentions will be clear as at least one of them will have a Polly Pyro wanted poster in their gear.
Nearing the walls around Rose Row will open dialog with Polly. Apparently she knows the town is responsible for the bounty on her head. Polly will warn "No Daddy" "Polly should not go there." "Rose Row hates Polly." "They want to hurt Polly" "Polly would burn Rose Row straight to Hell." Of course if told to follow Polly will enter Rose Row but it will just be a matter of time before she is attracted and nothing short of death with stop her from bringing fiery destruction upon any and all hostile NPC's.
Inventory
| Apparel | Weapon | Other items | On death |
|---|---|---|---|
| Polly's goth garb | Gehenna (GRA) Impovised incendiary grenades | Flint and steel Teddy bear |  A lock of her mothers hair. |
What Polly brings to the table
Fist and foremost this petite young woman is a fiery combat dynamo. Booth her Melee weapon and explosives skills are maxed out at 100 with all the added bonuses of the Pyromaniac perk.
Polly is an inspired inventor. Her primary weapon of choice is a Shishkebab of the Gehenna (GRA) style. Once Polly is a companion her dialog will allow the Player to ask her about the weapon and if maybe she could make more. Polly will tell the player that if they can find some "Large sheets of paper" and a pencil she could then draw a blue print. This will open the companion quest line "Polly's prints".
- Polly's prints is a companion quest that requires the player locate some "Rare" large sheets of paper and a common pencil. Once found Polly's dialog will allow her to draw one blue print for a standard Shishkebab.
If the player later collects enough of the seemingly random junk components to make other weapons, Polly's dialog would allow her to suggest more custom-made weapons if only she had more large sheets of paper and the right materials of course. Given all the right materials Polly could make exactly one Blue print for each of the workbench Craftable weapons.
Polly also has her own "Fire Starter" perk. She can basically make a camp fire anywhere but under water.
- (Caution starting a fire indoors might turn some locals hostile.)
Polly's creativity also makes her a truly gifted "Wasteland Gourmet". This perk allows Polly, with the proper ingredients, to craft any "Food item" with all the benefits and only 50% of the the radiation effects. However it should be noted that Polly will refuse to craft any chems or alcohol.
So all in all Polly Pyro would make for some interesting adventures. Many of her skills would make her a dream companion while many of her quirks could quickly turn her into a walking nightmare.
References :
- According to Dark Matters: Twisted But True. While most "idiot savants" are born with the condition as a form of autism. Sudden Savant syndrome is an extremely rare condition that is characterized by individuals remarkably displaying a sudden genius skill or talent that was not demonstrated before they suffered some form of head trauma. In 2003 there were 30 cases reported world wide and scientists hope to one day manipulate the brain in such a way to create geniuses at will.
- The name O'leary is a reference to Mrs. O'leary's cow that was believed for years to have kicked over a kerosene lantern starting what would be known as the Great Chicago fire of 1871 that killed hundreds of people and destroyed 3.3 miles of downtown Chicago. It wasn't until 1893 that the reporter who wrote the story confessed that it was a fiction. Still by then the story had grown into an urban legend that was generally believed. To this day no one can say for absolute certainty what caused one of the greatest disaster of the 1900s. The flag of Chicago's second star commemorates the fire and the rebirth of the city as a modern marvel of the American industrial revolution.
- The fact that Polly was borne on a Wednesday is a reference to the darkest part of an old children's poem. The line is "Wednesdays child is full of woe."
- Polly is obviously short for Penelope. Penelope \p(e)-nelo-pe, pen(e)-lope\ as a girl's name is pronounced pen-NELL-a-pee. It is of Greek origin, and the meaning of Penelope is "weaver". From "pene". In Mythology: Penelope was the wife of Odysseus who fended off suitors who sought to force her into marriage and there by claim Odysseus thrown. She kept them at bay "Saying she must first finish a tapestry as a morning ritual for her husband, the King, Odysseus" who the suitors claimed had died at sea. Penelope would weave it during the day and unravel the tapestry at night. All the while she said it had to be completed before she would wed another husband. The name has come to signify a loyal, capable, and clever woman.
Written by SaintPain
first draft 
SaintPain→ That was broke afore I got here." 05:34, October 18, 2012 (UTC)
First time posted here:
SaintPain→ That was broke afore I got here." 21:58, October 30, 2012 (UTC)
Your input
I would be most grateful if someone would please read this. I am more than open to any and all constructive criticism. I am a big boy with a thick skin. I'd rather hear folks tell me exactly why they hate it then to see it go unread.
So go ahead and hit me with your best shot. I'm sure it could always be improved.
SaintPain→ That was broke afore I got here." 01:47, November 19, 2012 (UTC)