"And, I mean, if you ain't too busy, maybe we could have dinner together, huh?" It's twitching again. I've got my eyes on you, sidewalk. "Kat?"
It wasn't like I was going to turn down Jer's offer - I was just preoccupied with thoughts my newest job. I'd get to go to New Vegas - the kind of opportunity only the well-off or insane are allowed. I was expecting a lot from the journey - probably meet some new people, maybe have a couple one-nighters, and I'd probably even make some money on side-jobs on the way back. Jer's still standing here yacking at me about food choices and that probability of his Y-chromosome mixing well with my X, and I'm staring at that old curb trying to figure out my plan of action.
"Kat? Is that a no?"
"Sure, I'll go with you Jer. I just... really need to be leaving - it's still early and I need to get as close to Vegas as possible." A smile. A dainty walk away. Try to keep his eyes on your ass, I'm told.
Day 0:
I think I'll keep this journal thing for this trip - I've got a feeling it's going to involve some interesting shit.
Very few women consider it - due to their brains being affected by the chemicals often found in laundry detergent, dish soap, and the metal of pots - but it's often safer to travel the wasteland as a man. Having never been closely exposed to the aforementioned deadly chemicals, my brain had been left relatively clear for logic. In the wasteland, no one wants to bother you if you don't have anything to bother for; of course, women always have something to bother for - and it's not always a question of whether you're willing and able.
I'd had a binder made for me when I started as a courier. Mom had raised me to always look and act male - my 'father' hadn't been one to kiss, call, or ever check in - so it came as a surprise when I started getting new friends and attention by not wearing the binder around town.
Day 1:
Got attacked by some giant scorpions but found a nice motel to stay in for the night. Pretty steep - 100 caps per night.
Day 2:
Down another hundred - got ripped off by a traveling trader that told me some stimpaks were "Super Stimpaks" - turns out they were just ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
LIK E I GI VE A S HIT H AHA
Benny rolled his eyes as he shut the journal. These Khans weren't the most elegant in their work. They'd scribbled out the courier's writing and written their 'hilarious' comments throughout.
"Uh, hey, Benny - there's this bandage thing on him - do we take it, too?"
As the Khans undid the bandage, Benny realized that the courier's chest was slowly growing. "Looks like this Charlie's got some charlies, boys."
Though it may seem illogical, this first chapter was meant to be boring. Seriously. . There's a contrast that needed to be built for later chapters - as in, she's super duper normal jetzt, but... yeah. You'll see (:
Anyway, this is the prologue to a new story around New Vegas. The only reason I've decided to actually write it is to get all these little floating ideas out of my head while I'm playing. Of course, Eros will in no way be hindered in his progression towards the sexy times with Charon!
Now, just a few more little notes:
Kat/Six is based almost completely on Eros. She's pretty much the female Eros. Originally, she was going to be male, but then I realized "oh my god, spoiler alert
Benny can has the sex with the courier!"
end spoiler! among other amazing revelations in that game that come with having boobs.
I'm not the greatest at a non-Eros style, as well... so... yeah...
Anyway, the connection to Eros will mean that, yes, there will hopefully be psychosis and sadomasochistic themes. Yay! Eros would be so proud. (':