Chapter 9: part 1: The Stranger
Throw him in there; General O'Neil will want to speak with him when he wakes.
The two Lance guards complied with Steele's order and threw the unconscious body of Nash onto the ground. The loud thud of his body hitting the floor woke Nash from his boot enforced slumber. The room was spinning; the light irritated his eyes, as if the light itself were hot coals on his eyes. Nash closed his eyes, trying to remember what had happened. After a moment of thought, Nash vocalized his opinion to the empty room. "Ah fuck." Nash coughed. Nash tried standing, but it was futile due to the blow to his head. His vision was blurred with some symptoms of vertigo, Nash decided to lie where he was and listen as to make a mental picture of the dimensions of the area. As he lay there listening, he looked around the room. The room was filthy, a simple naval cot on the wall to his right, a shit bucket in the far former to his left. He was laying in the center of the room, a ceiling lamp directly above him flickering and buzzing. He tilted his head back and could barely make out cell bars across that wall of the room. Nash turned his head to the left and closed his eyes. It's a god damn Atlas prison. Nash thought to himself. He lay there for several minutes, trying to think of why Atlas would want him alive. Dead Nash could understand, they would not be the first to want him dead for something as insignificant as shooting up one of their camps and stealing back Sarah. But whatever motives they had now were a mystery to him. As Nash lay in contemplation he started to hear something… Unusual.
It started with the pinging of metal being hit, followed by humming and then singing. "Stand tall for the beast of America, stand tall for… Damn what was it again?" said the voice. "Somthin somthin and stand up to the beast." Clearly this person had no idea of what the lyrics were, much less care. "You see, Suppression is a motherfucking prison, so I… I…"
Nash sighed in annoyance, "If you don't know the words then don't fucking sing."
The voice let out a cackle, starting low and then loud. "Tisk tisk tisk, I thought that you would have better manners then that, even for a waste lander.
"You don't know me, so shut the fuck up or I'll teach you how to sing with a broken larynx."
The voice giggled, trying to hold in the laughter, "Oh but I do know you Nash, I do I do!" Whoever this was, they spoke in a rapid and scatterbrained manner. As if couldn't control what they were saying, nor care what they spewed out of their mouth. "I know of you and Moxxi and Scooter and Leroy and Sarah and One Eyed Jack and El- Whoops can't say too much, no no no that would be bad very very bad indeed." Nash heard the pinging of metal again, then a loud slap. "Damn heads again HA HA HAeeeeeAH, will tails ever catch up!?"
"Who the hell are you?" interrupted Nash, annoyed at this fool.
"you know that is the question that I hear the most Nashy boy." Nash tilted his head back again and looked at the cell across from his. There was the fool, standing up from sitting on the bed, flicking a coin the size of a half dollar over and over again. He was wearing black boots, dark blue jeans, a dress shirt that was half tucked in in the front and unbuttoned at the top with an orange shirt underneath. Over the dress shirt he wore a black over coat that went to his knees and a black 1940's style fedora on his head that was tilted to the back slightly. There were two odd things about his attire though, tucked in the band of his hat were two playing cards, the nine of clubs and the twelve of hearts (which in case you don't know does not exist). The other oddity being that around his neck he wore a broken noose as if it were a necktie that was slightly loosened after a hard day of work. Nash couldn't see the fool's face due to the shadow of the light on his hat, but Nash could tell that he was had five o clock shadow, and perhaps a goatee. As Nash had been analyzing this man, the stranger had been ranting manically about the phrase who are you. "Are you even listening?" snapped the man.
"Not really you nutty fuck." Replied Nash coughing in a combination of pain and laughter. "But you didn't answer my question."
"It really doesn't matter WHO so much as where and your opinion of the subject." Replied the fool in a way as if he were questioning his own words.
"I think you're an annoying idiotic fool."
"Then I am but a fool, one to be laughed at and not questioned, but it is in that lack of question where one can finddddddddddddddddddd?"
"Find what?"
The Fool paused and pulled a pocket watch from his jacket pocket, clicking it open; "Out of time out of time out of TIME!" he said putting the watch back in his pocket. He flipped the coin once more and caught it, "Ah yes, suppression is a motherfucking prison, so I" he tossed the coin through both cell bars, it landing on Nash's chest, " Hand you the key to your soul, you've got to love your neighbor, love your neighbor, and let your neighbor love you back."
Nash looked at the coin on his chest and examined it. One side had an eagle on it and the other said 'City of Columbia'. As Nash was looking at the coin, a guard walked up to his cell "who are you talking to bandit scum?" asked the guard.
"I was talking to the guy across the hall" said Nash hiding the coin in his sleeve.
The guard turned around, looked in the cell and walked away. "Very funny." As the guard walked away, Nash looked into the cell across the hall. It was empty…
Chapter 9: part 2: Girl's Night in
Author's note: this is occurring at the same time as part 1 of this chapter.
Moxxi's Red Light Bar
Sarah sat at the bar and turned the ice in her glass with her right index finger, her other hand holding up her chin in boredom. The bar was as busy as any bar is during happy hour, if happy hour could even be a thing on Pandora. It was packed enough to keep Moxxi busy at the counter, but empty enough to have breathing room for patrons. Nash had left hours ago, and playing fetch with Leroy was only tolerable for so long. Moxxi stopped dashing back and forth between customers like Tapper for the first time and stopped in front of Sarah.
"Whew," sighed Moxxi wiping sweat from her brow, "think that should hold 'em over for a bit."
Sarah took her hand off her chin and picked up her glass, "Yeah, you haven't even had a moment to breath."
"Yup, hey Sarah can I Ask you something sugar?"
"Sure, but you have to answer some of my questions after I answer yours."
"Deal, Ho long have you and Nash been, ya know, together?"
Sarah took a drink and put the glass down and scratched her head in thought. "It has to be… hmmm… at last four and a half years ago now."
"Long time, how'd you two meet?"
"I was working at a clinic in Fyrestone, you know, the now prospering barter town in the arid badlands?"
"Heard of it, never been though." Replied Moxxi.
"Well I was an assistant to the doctor there, and one day there was a huge scrap at the bar there, and we had to fix up the guys who were in it cause they got beat senseless by some drifter that came into town the night before."
Moxxi grinned, showing that she already knew who the drifter was.
"So we patched them up, set some bones, sewed shut some wounds, put ice on their boo-boos." Sarah smiled as she thought back to that grubby little office in a small garage. " So one guy comes in, still drunk off his ass with big shards of glass in the right side of his face, he sumps over into a hair and says-"
Fyrestone clinic, years ago…
"Fix me up Doc!" said the drunk as he sat in the chair, his hat falling off. Sarah looked at the clinic's doctor for reassurance that he would take care of this bum.
Unfortunately the Doc looked at her and said, "You gotta do things you don't like when you're fixin people up."
Sarah grabbed some tweezers from the medical kit on the counter, walked over to the man, and knelt down in front of him. The man had long brown hair that covered most of his face, he wore a dusty leather jacket with a bandolier over it, and desert army fatigues with a gun belt that had a holster attached to his right thigh. "I'm just going to push your hair back so I can see the damage." Sarah said so that the man would not over react. As she pushed his hair back, revealing part of his face, she saw that he was watching her like a hawk, despite looking confused and sleepy. His eyes were brown, and they were uncaring and cold.
The stranger spoke as the tweezers got closer to his face, "Doc," he asked in a kind hearted and soft tone, "would ya kindly keep my eyes intact, I need em more than you could ever know."
"Sure, need them bad huh?" replied Sarah.
"If I didn't have good eyesight I wouldn't have been able to kick those guys' asses.
"That was you?" Sarah said in surprise, "What's your name stranger?"
"Stranger has suited me fine for now, I don't usually stay in towns for too long."
Well seeing as I'm picking glass out of your face, I think I deserve a name to give to my handiwork."
"The man paused, and looked at the ground in thought, "My name's Nash."
Moxxi's red light bar, present, as in before the flashback started.
"HA!" chuckled Moxxi.
"What?" asked Sarah.
"Nothing, it is just fitting in a way."
"Yeah I guess, so he explained that he was in town to kill a skag that had been causing trouble in the territory, and we chatted and eventually we started dating and workin together."
"Match made in heaven?" asked Moxxi.
Sarah rubbed the back of her neck as she turned and looked at the empty stools to her left and right. "Well what is a relationship without problems?"
"Oh I know that better than anyone, trust me honey."
"Now it's my turn, tell me about yourself Moxxi, where are you from, what is your story?"
As Moxxi opened her mouth to respond, a male voice interrupted her, "Ah now that is certainly an interesting tale indeed, oh yes yes it is!" Sarah turned to her right to find that the once empty bar stool was now occupied by an odd man. He seemed to appear out of nowhere, for neither Sarah nor Moxxi had seen him until he spoke. "Now as interesting as your tale of being a mother and ex-husbands is tantalizing my dear Moxxi, there are much better things to be discussing in the matter of current events." Chuckled the man. He was wearing black boots, dark blue jeans, a dress shirt that was half tucked in in the front and unbuttoned at the top with an orange shirt underneath. Over the dress shirt he wore a black over coat that went to his knees, a black 1940's style fedora on his head that was tilted to the back slightly, and a noose around his neck. I the left side of the brim of his hat were two playing cards, although Sarah could not tell which ones they were, for they were covered in shadow.
"And who the hell are you?" asked Moxxi in an agitated tone whilst crossing her arms.
"Why in the fuckin name of Jesus Christ and the virgin Mary do your people ALWAYS ask that question FIRST!" replied the man in a combination of anger and laughter. "But first my throat is dry, geben to mich desen Rakk ale." Asked the man in the most broken German Sarah had ever heard. Moxxi gave him a smirk, turned around and poured the ale into a glass. She then reared her head back. "And hold the spit if you'd mind." Replied the man, removing a pouch from his coat. Moxxi stopped, turned towards him, and spat a big loogie on the ground. He took the glass from her hand, "thank you kindly, and as to your previous statement, it really depends on you."
Sarah cocked her head to the side and shot an irritated and curious look at the stranger, "What do you mean it depends on me?"
"There are some theorists that believe that if you believe in something, it will come true, What a bunch a bullshit if you ask me, but you could simply ask the right questions." He drank the ale in one large gulp, "Or is it that there is the constant balance of fate, or do you simply deny faith entirely?"
"What?"
The man let out a cackle, "Ha ha ha haaaaaaaaa, I really do hate rakk ale, the stuff either gets you drunk or gets you sober!"
"Listen up buddy," growled Moxxi, "You're getting on my nerves, so get the hell out of my bar."
"Ah kicking me out as quick as you left the Hodunks now ain't ya Miss Moxxi?" said the man with a sly grin." You know who probably wants to get the hell out of somewhere, Nashy boy, he could use a drink too, maybe some stiff Vodka from the old country…" the stranger let out a sigh at his last thought.
Moxxi stood frozen mouth ajar, Sarah had a brief thought of what the man said to her, but so brief that she could barely take a breath for her words, "What happened to Nash?" she said leaning towards the man.
"Wow wo woooooooooooooo there Sarah, you need to chieeel!" the man said backing up from her and opening the bag. "Jeez did the sun just explode calm down, or is it I who needs to be calm, well I don't think the volume can go lower than 9 anyway ha ha ha haaa!"
"Where is Nash?"
"You see the problem with this is just the name, it is a complete turn off." The man lifts the glass to the light, his silhouette revealing his facial shape to Sarah. He was rigid yet scruffy in the face, at least as far as she could see. "Rakk ale, was it made from rakk innards, does it taste like a rakk, or does it just swoop over yer head like how Atlas swooped over Nash?"
"Atlas has Nash?" responded Moxxi, freeing her mind from her daze, "This ain't good Sarah, if they got that tough SOB, imagine what it took to take him down."
Sarah shuttered at the thought, "Where do they have him, please tell me."
"Why should I?" said the man, shifting his gaze from the glass to Sarah, with a disturbing grin across his face. "That would ruin all the fun!" he turned towards Sarah and smashed the glass into the bar, launching glass into his hand, forearm, and face "Should I do it because you asked, because you," he lifted his hands and did air quotes as blood began oozing from his injuries, "love him, or is it something more… intimate?" he said looking Sarah's body over as a smile grew across his face going from ear to ear. Sarah and Moxxi stared at him in fear and curiosity. "Nash is being held inside a prison at these coordinates," he removed a echo recorder from the bag, along with a carton of cigarettes, "the prison has several different codes that change randomly and are formed 2 minutes before they can be input, on the recorder are the codes for 4 hours from now, now those codes will get you around inside, but can't get you inside, get it?"
"Sorta." Responded Sarah.
"Now you will have to find out where he is inside there your selves, and get in yourselves."
"Why would you help us, you don't seem like the sort to do things out of the kindness of your heart?" asked Moxxi.
The man gripped the bar with his bloodied right arm and turned himself toward her, blood trickling down his cheek, "WHY, to keep the long and short of it going."
"I can't tell if your smart, crazy, or if I'm just lucky." Said Sarah looking at the echo recorder.
The man removed a cigarette from the cartoon and put it between his lips, "Madness, luck, intellect, my dear," suddenly, the cigarette lit without any lighter or match touching it. The orange glow from the cigarette illuminating the bloodied half of his face, "They're all the same thing, I really do enjoy these cigarettes, just gotem myself, The Boss brand, pretty good if I do say so, not that my thoughts matter.
Sarah and Moxxi looked at each other, then looked back at the man only to find an empty bar stool and cigarette smoke drifting to the ceiling…
HOLY FUCKIN SHIT I finished this chapter. Now sorry about the delay, all will be explained on my YouTube channel (KBoom x Hangman) if a few days as of why it took so long. Also tune in to hear about a new show I'm trying to make there on the yeetube, as well as a huge thank you to all of you. Plus character explanations. Well it is Valentine's day as I write this author's note, I'm depressed as fuck, and btw, the Fool character was not invented just to help me write the chapter, he is actually a character that I have been planning to introduce since the first chapter of my Bioshock infinite fanfic, his origins explained in the afore mentioned video. I would like to call out the new Subbies as a little treat; you all joined in the time it took for me to write this chapter. Gricky, PsychoticBoredGuy, Melancholicmelons, thanks for joining the Subby revolution! Now I know how much you all like to ignore me when I ask for reviews, but I just want to know your opinions about the direction of the story. Please regale me with your intrigue to this story, guess what will happen next, guess other shit, andDDDD tell me what you think of the shots from the new show that are on my twitter ( /LynchVideos) I love you all, in a non homo way towards the guys, and in a friendly non rapist way towards the gals. PLEASE KEEP MAKIN ME MAKE SHIT BY BEIN AWESOME! –Lynch aka Cool guy McBeefington aka SCS x Lynch aka Snuggleton McBackfist (my steam name omg!) aka that guy whose stuff you read
