Courier of Gunsmoke.
ABC - Thought
"Stupid bug."
A man walking alone stood over the corpse of a bloated, abnormally large fly. Heat still radiated off his laser gun, already burning from the scorching sun above the dry, hot Mojave Desert. Bored out of his mind, he had started to wander everywhere after the big battle. Since that time, he hasn't had much to do, except the occasional job to take someone out, guard a caravan, or sabotage some poor bastard's stuff.
He had the occasional thought to maybe settle down. Maybe start farming or ranching, or a set up a small shop. Of course, he was restless, and nothing could probably anchor him down for long. Maybe he could start a pest-extermination job, killing Radroaches, Cazadores, and the giant Mantises. Maybe start up his own mailing business.
He kept walking on down the fractured road, holding his laser rifle in anticipation of any further attack. Where he was going now, he did not know. He left New Vegas, and the Mojave as a whole, in the "best" state since he made his existence known to the wasteland. Maybe he could go back to the Big MT, and look for some more loot there. He also still had questions, questions that came up from when he confronted Ulysses at the Divide. He doubts the brains could understand anything he says now though.
Nightfall soon came, and he decided to pitch camp, setting up home inside a small ditch in the ground. Setting up some traps near the outside perimeter of the ditch, he then moved some rocks in place and hid behind them. He set down his large sack of his goods, and using them as a resting place for his head, he soon fell into a deep sleep.
Daylight came, swept away the night, and gave the man his signal to move on. Before he did so, he pulled out some squirrel bits out of his sack, and started chewing on them. The meat was rough, and not at all tasty, but it was food, and food was food.
He soon set out on his journey to god-who-knows. If he felt like it, maybe he would trek all the way from the west to the east. A journey like that would seem impossible, but he was the fucking courier, and nothing will stop him. Maybe he should have made everyone write letters, so that he could take them from the west to the east. He thought that he should probably do that.
He then remembered: He wanted to talk to the brain things at the Big MT. Most importantly though, he wanted to take some stuff he forgot, but marked off as something that he would come back to get. Luckily, he wasn't that far from the Satellite where he was kidnapped, an event he still shudders.
At least they should have not taken his organs, especially his brain, getting that back was a hassle, although he does admit he didn't take bag his heart and spine. Whatever alternative device they put in, it was neat.
As soon as he approached the Drive In where it all started, He then sat down his bag, shuffling through it. Pulling out a small hand-gun like device, he held it out in front of him.
He pulled the trigger, but was surprised. Something had gone wrong. Well, not really yet, but something felt off. He pulled it again, but nothing happened. Examining it closely, he didn't see anything that could really cause a problem with the small handheld teleportation device. Not a single piece of grime was spotted, and all the parts seemed fine. He then pulled the trigger once more, but nothing still happened. Perhaps it was slow on batteries or something?
He then set it down on the road and decided to open it using a screwdriver, but decided not to, as touching old technology and trying to fix it, even with a mind as smart as his, was probably a REALLY bad idea. He soon decided to go with the alternative, which was pull the trigger many times. That's a smarter idea!
Then a miracle happened! He was at the Big MT, inside the Sink. Or that's what would have happened normally. Instead, blue light flashed about crazily from the small device. He quickly dropped the damned thing and picked up his sack with his left hand, preparing to make a run for it. No matter how fast he was, the damn thing swallowed up everything, as the light soon gobbled him up, and everything around the device.
Soon, his life was flashing before him. Or was it. White light, flashing spastically blinded his eyes, as he clawed at the air with his right hand, desperately trying to get out, to grab onto something. The damn thing must have exploded, a strong, powerful explosion, as he thought he was miles above in the air. He was falling, fast, and was blinded.
This is gonna suck, he thought to himself.
Finally, the journey to the afterlife, hell or heaven, probably neither, ended, as he felt a thud upon impact.
Spinning.
His head was spinning. The world was spinning.
There was also pain all over, but some Med-x should take care of that.
He must've been out for hours, as judging from the lack of light, it was night-time. He got up, and dusted off his armor.
"Thank god for Power Armor" He muttered to himself.
He scoured the ground for his belongings, and found his sack surprisingly all intact. Rummaging through it, he was surprised everything had fallen without having a single scratch. He sighed in relief. He also looked for the device, and he did, in pieces.
That night, he felt no terror like any other. Life in the Big MT sounded like hell.
He gathered up what pieces of it he could, and surveyed the surrounding area. Sand, sand, and sand. Lots of it, actually. Wherever he was, it wasn't the Big MT. While looking around, he saw a light source off in the distance. As he had no other destination, he decided to walk towards it. Picking up his Laser Rifle, he moved towards it.
As he approached it, he saw it was a small town. He checked his Pip-boy, only for it to be completely blank. The town had no name, just a [?] on his map. He decided to be extra cautious, as he could be approaching some xenophobic civilization, just as he had with the Boomers. That was not a fun experience.
A small building just on the outskirt of the town came into view as he approached the town. There was a sign on it that said 'Saloon'. Thirsty, he decided to enter in anyways, but had his gun out.
He opened up the Saloon Doors, and inside saw several people, all of whom looked at him immediately as he entered the Bar. As he approached the counter, he felt all of their eyes on him. Even the bartender looked at him as if he was foreign. Not the foreign as in "from another town" but the foreign as in "what world are you from?"
"What'dya want?" She asked.
"How much for Nuka-Cola?" He asked.
"Nuka-What?"
"Nuka-Cola. You know, Soda?"
"Sir. Whatever this… Nuka-Cola is, we don't serve that here."
"Fine, just get me some water."
He watched the bartender leave him a bit. As he waited, another person came and sat right next to him. The guy was a bit taller than he was. He was wearing some cowboy hat, along with a black vest, khaki jeans, and an ammo belt slung across his torso.
The bartender lady came back, with a glass of water.
"Here's some water. That will cost ya two bucks."
"I guess this is NCR territory." He says, reaching into his bag.
"NCR?" She responds.
"You know, New California Republic?"
"First Nuka-Cola, now some group? What are you, crazy?"
"Okay lady." He asks "Are we anywhere close to New Vegas?"
"You are in New Vegas."
"Wait. Nononono….."
The courier seemed frustrated.
"Why are you asking weird questions? You ask weird questions, you get dumb answers. Also, you still haven't pay those two bucks yet." She says as she leaves and goes to the other guy.
This can't be, the courier thought to himself. It was insanity. It was possible, but then again, it was so out of the world, even the wildest things to ever happen in the wasteland can't compare with this.
"Hey buddy?" The man next to him asked, concerned over the Courier's depressed posture, "You okay? I payed for your drink if that makes you any better."
"Tell me," The courier said in a low, monotone voice, "New Vegas is in the Mojave Desert, and was highly contested between the NCR, The Legion, and Mr. House, right?"
The man looked at him blankly, before laughing. He wasn't the only one who laughed, as the others in the Saloon started laughing as well.
"Buddy," One of the drunk men say, "I don't know if you knocked yourself out or something, but New Vegas is a small, boring, dull town in the middle of nowhere on this god-forsaken desert planet. We ain't never been attacked ever, and the only reason anyone would attack this town is out of sheer boredom."
So he was right. It was sheer insanity, but it was true.
He was probably in another fucking dimension.
He shrieked in the Saloon, which made him look more of a lunatic. Sobbing quietly in the Saloon for hours inside his Power Armor, he stayed until the Saloon was empty, and all that was left was him and the Bartender.
"Sir, if you're not going to leave, I'm gonna have to force you out." She threatened
"Yeah, whatever. I don't belong here anyways." He replied slowly. As he got up, sack slung over his shoulders, he saw two wanted posters.
[WANTED: VASH THE STAMPEDE – $$60,000,000,000.00]
[WANTED: JACQUES THE BUTCHER - $$20,000.00]
"Hey Ma'am," He asked, pointing at Vash's poster "Why is this guy's bounty so high?"
"You haven't heard?" She says, confused. "He wiped out an entire city by himself. Most dangerous man on the planet. Don't even think about go'in after him. He'll kill ya without a second thought, before you even move an inch."
"Can I take these two posters?"
"Sure, but like I said earlier, watch out for the Humanoid Typhoon."
"Humanoid Typhoon?"
"Yeah, that's what they call him."
The Courier then took the two posters, and put them in his bag. He then activated his Pip-boy, putting these two into it as a reminder for what to do later on. He then grabbed his sack and made his way out the exit.
"Wait!" The bartender shouted.
He then turned around.
"You ain't someone I know. I know everyone in this town, but you're something new. What's your name, sir?"
"My name?" He said. The Courier thought for a second, before giving his answer.
"My name is John Robinson, or you can just call me Courier. Everybody calls me that."
[Notes and stuff]: Well, there's that. I wrote this to get this crossover out of my mind. Now I am not a great writer. I'd probably say I'm a bad writer. Whatever, here it is to the world.
I might write a second chapter, but that all depends.
Also, if anyone is reading this, i have an question if you did play Fallout: New Vegas. Who did your Courier side with during the 2nd Battle of Hoover Dam.
Anyways that's it. See you guys.