Vegas... is lackluster.

A day and a half after leaving, we have reached New Vegas. I could've gone fast, but I was building connections with the people. Also, I couldn't pass the chance to flirt with Cassidy.

The moment we reached Vegas though? I was disappointed.

It was only... what, three years ago that the Three Families of New Vegas were recruited by House? Then they had to build a wall around the Strip while also trying to restore everything to working condition? It was a fucking miracle it all worked.

The result was haphazard, but it works. As evident from the lengthy blocks and piles of concrete, topped with barbed wires, that were all preventing anyone from just barging in.

Just like Hodd Toward would always say; It. Just. Works.

The gates were there, as each one separated a section of the New Vegas Strip. They were a hassle when closed, but I understand their uses.

House could close down a gate which would temporarily redirect foot traffic to, and from, different sections of the Strip to achieve whatever he wants. Creating a sense of false inaccessibility is one thing that would cause all sorts of other things I don't have the energy to analyze. But the combat potential of those gates when the Strip becomes under attack?

Let your enemy think that they can go through the thin looking slide gates and they would use the wall as a literal wall of rubble and trash as cover. Disregarding that the rubble could be blasted apart.

It's more than good enough.

House would have instant choke points. Choke points that would be filled with Securitrons and NCR Soldiers.

Still, I'm not interested on the Vegas Strip and gambling.

I'm busy trying to do odd jobs around Freeside.

And Freeside... Hooh boy, it is packed.

Everywhere you look there's a vagrant shuffling all over the place. And then there's the squatters, squatting on almost any alcove. Sometimes a few even gather 'round a fire. Sometimes they make their own alcove.

Then, there's rubble and trash. Everywhere. Most of the squats use the very trash around them to construct makeshift walls, roof, and bedding, in the vain hope that they may at least sleep better.

Have I mentioned that the buildings seen in the game were almost crumbling? The roofs have fallen, the supports and most floors were damaged. There were still marks of bullet holes, grenade detonations, and scorch marks so similar to what energy weapons do to reinforced concrete.

Perhaps these buildings were purposely gutted by House to use as the walls around the strip, and to cut any use of high-grounds. Well, whatever happened, it had forced the people to the streets and alleyways.

Thankfully, Freeside does not stink and that the sewers are still working.

And there are lots of people passing through who would request you to do something and they'd pay you. They are normally people who can protect themselves who do not know how to get their request, or too lazy to do anything. Some, who can't protect themselves, will usually hire you for the very same thing.

But right now, though? I'm negotiating a contract between the Kings and the Followers of the Apocalypse.

The Kings would clear up Freeside, through my suggestion, and the Followers would help how to best do that and provide them medical assistance whenever needed.

The Followers wouldn't agree because they were still busy tending to the hundreds of soldiers from the first battle for Hoover Dam just last month, even if the Followers and NCR are not in the best of terms.

They're stretched thin, so to speak.

To solve their problems, I drew up a list of things both sides could agree with.

The Followers would help the Kings in figuring out where and how they will clear up the Freeside rubble and trash while also leaving two medics on-standby whenever they operate in case something happens. Whatever the outcome, good or bad, it will be owned by the Kings.

The Kings, in turn, will send one or two bodyguard for every Doctor that the Followers of the Apocalypse will send away from Freeside. As long as it is anywhere in the Mojave. The Followers only have 21 active doctors here, while the rest are researchers and medics that tour the settlements to render their aid while conducting research or gathering supplies. Compared to the King's number between 120 to 270. Though it would lessen them, 21 members would hardly cripple their numbers.

My ace in the hole came from the recycling part of those rubble and trash. The area where the Kings and the NCR shoot out will happen in-game? It just happens to be free of any squats. The area was just one big hazardous rubble pile. Full of jagged reinforced concrete and sturdy rebar. The moment after they were done with clearing the rubble, they could build or use the area to whatever will suit their need. It will be of further use if they could build something to reach the broken skyway. A skyway whose segment was still looking mostly whole.

I am not the one benefiting from this, but I am salivating at the prospect of using the slightly damaged segment of a skyway as a base of some sorts.

Even if they don't use the skyway, the space alone on the parking lot on the way to Cerulean Robotics was spacious enough to be turned into an actual market place.

Now, here I am handing the contract to the King and letting him read the details, most of which I've had the Followers help make with me.

"For more than five years we've been here, you're telling me we could've had a small sustainable farm all this time? And why tell us and not use it for yourself?"

I looked at the King with mirth. "Do you see me clearing that place all by myself? Besides, it's not like I could sustain it if I ever finished something similar."

"Perhaps, perhaps. But sending away 21 of my men? That's not something we could do without suffering losses. Know what I mean?"

"Yeah. But nothing says they're permanently sent away. Do a rotation, it's only for a year. You, on the other hand, get a land for farming or build a dorm or something, have people rent there until you grow tired of it. Heck, why don't you set up a market place over there? Everyone would love a market place ran by the Kings."

"Maybe so, maybe so. But we're too busy selling our services as bodyguard and caravan guards. Most of our members are tied up with the Crimson Caravan who we're in-contract with. We're getting overwhelmed."

"No, I meant that you could have the place be rented by merchants where they sell freely and secure from any would-be criminals."

"We could, we could. But it sure will eat on our numbers."

I held myself and thought deeper.

"Do you have a timeline for this?" King asked.

I shook my head, "I don't. It was up to you to decide whether to have this done within three months or, a full year; just as your obligation with the Followers end. Which, knowing them, they will disregard and see the project to completion. Better Freeside means lesser patients for them. Which would allow them to focus on better things, like restoring electricity to some of the buildings around here. With electricity, the Followers could use equipment to make medical supplies or help make other equipment."

King looked at the contract once again to scan it. Then uncapped a pen and signed it. "There. Let's hope it turns out great." I took it and stored it on my duster. "Don't worry, I'm here to help. Be seeing you, King."

"Come back anytime."

[Helping Hands] (Radiant)
Render aid to the Followers of the Apocalypse and The Kings.

+320xp

Level up!
Level 7 -} 8

My left arm was spazzing out that level up music. Good thing my Pip-Boy will not, and cannot, draw any attention unless I deliberately do so.

I made my way outside and headed straight for Old Mormon Fort. There was a reason why I wanted to do this contract.

The Followers were hurting for caps and do not have any supplies. Especially now that they're using them on treating NCR soldiers, even if the NCR does not like the Followers. And since they could hardly be called combatants themselves, they need protection whenever transporting goods or traveling.

Securing them a whole year's worth of bodyguards, even if just for the 21 doctors that travel between settlements, was enough for me to earn a discount on any and all purchase I make with their doctors. And I will most certainly abuse it when I buy the implants I need.

I pushed the right side of the gate open and made my way inside to locate Julie Farkas. Who was talk to none other than Arcade Gannon. But, just like with Cassidy, it wasn't the time to recruit him so I paid little attention.

"Julie, I've got the contract!"

Both of them looked to me, with Julie who was certainly happy with the news. "That's great! Now we could regularly acquire medical supplies from our supplier on the Mojave Outpost with additional protection." she exclaimed and then hugged me. "All in a day's work. So, who's this good looking?" I asked Julie as I observed Arcade, who is definitely taller than me by a few inches.

"Who? Me?" Arcade asked me, somehow shocked.

"Er, Julie, are we both talking to a ghost just now?" I prodded.

Arcade bit down the prod and felt incensed, "I'm Arcade, Arcade Gannon.. Mr. Snark."

If he wasn't a canon game companion I wouldn't bother talking with him. In fact, I wouldn't bother with anyone at all besides those I need to. But it's important to set up a good rapport with future allies. So I'll have to be nice to almost everyone.

"Oh! That's a good last name. Jeffrey Snark. Very Nice. I like the ring of it. Thank you, Arcade Arcade Gannon." I shot back, not exactly introducing myself, but stating my name otherwise.

Julie chortled, "Cut if off you two. Jeff, meet Arcade Gannon. Arcade, meet Jeffrey No-Last-Name."

"I see." Arcade imperceptibly narrowed his eyes. "What? Not everyone gets a last name." I mock-defended. "Jeff. Play nice because I will need you to escort Arcade to the Mojave Outpost." Julie pointed me then to Arcade.

What- "You're not joking, right?"

"No. My name is Julie Farkas, handsome." Julie snipped right back at me. And my face must've been shocked enough that it warrented a "Ha!" from Arcade.

[Helping Hands] (Radiant)
Escort Arcade Gannon to Mojave Outpost.

"Alright, fine. When I get back, you will receive what you deserve, Julie Farkas." I said with promise. "I'll be waiting." she replied before going off and upholding the letters of the contract in her hand.

I turned to him, "What now?"

Arcade turned towards a tent while saying, "Let me get my bag." He dashed off and quickly rushed back out and stood a little bit too close to me.

"I'm ready. Let's go."

"Alright. Follow me, we will join three caravans for safety."

"That's fine. Lead the way."

Arcade Gannon is now a follower.

[Confirmed Bachelor] perk acquired!
Unlock hidden dialogues with men and gain +10% damage against male enemies.

[Better Healing] status effect acquired!
While Arcade is a companion, healing items are 20% better.

Huh... would you look at that.

I was wondering when I would get a selection of perks.

It would seem, that I have to do everything to earn perks. A side effect of [Guardian of the Wastes] drawback, perhaps?

Even my skills were in the form of percentage instead of whole numbers from 1 to 100. I have, instead, percentage. Just like in Fallout 1 & 2, I think.

My skills in Speech are at 50% right now. Does it mean I have a 50% chance of convincing someone with words? Will my words be 50% effective whenever I speak? Or will it be an actual measure of scale, where 100% can get you to convince a priest to offer virgin teenagers to you while they perform mass suicides? Can 100% allow you to talk robots into disobeying their primary directives?

Whatever it means, I don't know. But I'm just imagining all my skills have no percentage and treat it, as it was in the game...

For now.

"Erm, Jeffrey. Where do we find them?"

Arcade's question snapped me from my musing.

"We'll go to the Crimson Caravan, check if they're somewhere nearby. If not, then we head for McCarran Airport."

We started walking towards the nearest exit and found ourselves passing by rather peacefully.

As we headed for the newly established Crimson Caravan Company compound, I thought of my situation with my perks.

Whenever I level up, I do not get Skill Points or Perks to choose from. Instead, I earn more hit points and action points... which severely hampered my versatility but allowed me to become durable at later levels compared to the game.

Maybe it's a combination of my drawbacks; [Hardcore] and [Guardian of the Wastes]. But both doesn't say why it was like so.

Any game updates I have are announced loudly by my Pip-Boy.

The only time I got my eyesight fucked by the game itself, was when I used the Vit-o-Matic Vigor Tester.

And there have been no announcements of any kind ever since. Even now, or evem when I level up. All the announcements were through the pip-boy.

So it certainly gives me the feeling that when it said Hardcore mode was Not Recommended, it meant Don't fucking take this drawback.

I already missed a lot of skill points and perk choices!

Along the way, I grumbled to myself and my poor life choices. Granted, when I filled out that Jump Chain document, I wasn't expecting this to happen. Nor will it change! I certainly recall, as clear as sunlight in a sunny day, that I would arrive in canon timeline or some-when near canon timeline.

Not four years early.

And it wasn't indicated, or even hinted, that I would get my items only when conditions have been met!

I might as well rampage through the wasteland and nab everything not nailed down.

Because if that was the case I would've just made my way straight into Big MT or get myself teleported there and then grab all those weapons and armor.

Could've saved me the points I spent and purchased something better. Like the B-29 Super Fortress that will never fucking run out of fuel and will regenerate it's payload. That's a minimum of two tactical low-yield nukes and eight at most!

Instead, I got myself a Vertibird that I may or may not acquire sometime in the near future. Because I was going for a certain kind of character, doing a certain kind of gameplay, which I am currently unable to fucking do!

I sighed.

Better put that train of thought away and focus on finding those caravans.

"It looks like those caravans of yours are not around." Arcade pointed out through the gates into the compound. "We're heading for McCarran then." I quickly replied.

We continued our silent walk while I thought of what to do until next month.

-Memento Mori-

Arcade and I found the caravans using the dilapidated El Rey Motel while their pack brahmins took shade under the old gas station across them.

On the 2nd floor balcony of the motel was Cassidy, drinking as usual of her, and was quite visibly happy. It was when after a few more steps towards her that both of our eyes met, even when I was more than 30m from her.

"Hey guys, look who's back!" Cassidy called on to everyone.

Not everyone looked to her, but those that did, followed her finger towards me.

"JEFF! Our favorite Sunset Sarsaparilla Supplier!" someone shouted, and everyone had a small laugh before going back to their business.

"Looks like you're well-known, Mr. Snark." Arcade taunted from behind me. "Meh, not like I could help it. If you're a good trader, everyone likes you. If you're a greedy bitch, everyone gets stingy and won't trade with you. It pays to be nice." I rattled off, not really feeling the energy trade barbs with Arcade.

"Where are we going then?"

I pointed to my own pack brahmin, as we walked. I've purchased Sheriff from the Whittaker Farmstead when we've passed the Junction-15 Railway Camp. I mostly based the decision on having less items for me to lug around, and that the traders seem to trust me enough to take care of my brahmin when I asked nicely.

So now I have a pack brahmin named, Sheriff. "Arcade, meet my brahmin; Sheriff." I gestured, "Want some sarsaparilla? I don't have that much water, and what little I have, I use for desperate times. But I can spare you five bottles of sarsa."

"I'll take two, thank you."

I got to behind Sheriff and onto the cart he's tied to. I made a show of searching for the sack of sarsaparilla, just to mess up with Arcade. It took me a 'while' before I found the sack and gave him two bottles.

"...these are cold."

I nodded.

"These are cold sunset sarsaparilla bottles."

I nodded.

"Unblemished by war."

I nodded.

"Who's your supplier?"

I nodded.

Arcade frowned.

"I'm serious here, Jeff. If someone is producing these, they might take away the value of caps. Little by little, the purchasing power of bottle caps will go down as more and more people can afford a little bit of everything."

I nodded.

Arcade inhaled, clearly irritated with me. "I will beg of you, please answer, who is your supplier?"

I nodded, "Keep thinking I'm being supplied." Arcade was taken aback by my response, "You're making these?"

"Of course. I just happen to have the 200-year old recipe and am currently employing 50 people to run my factory. Of course I'm not."

"Sarcasm and snark does not suit your face at the same time, Jeff." Arcade sighed, "We're not even half of the way to the Outpost and you're like this."

"Eh, we'll survive. You can mingle with those men over there, I'll talk about our situation with that brunette named Cassidy." I said, pointing to both the men gathered around a makeshift-campfire and to Cassidy as well. "If you get hungry, open up one of the Caravan Lunch boxes!"

I made my way to the second floor balcony and approached Cassidy. "Howdy Ca-"

"Jeff. That pun got old and rotten ever since I was a kid." Cassidy warned. "Sheesh. What got into you? Didn't you just called on me quite enthusiastically, like ten minutes ago?"

"Nah. I'm not angry or anything. Just don't want to hear that one. So, what's with you and blondie?"

We both looked to where Arcade has easily made his place on Sheriff's cart and sat on the sarsa crate, savoring the cold sunset sarsaparilla I got him. He was in time for the actual sunset, too.

"Until we reach the outpost, I'm his escort for-" Cassidy faux-gasped, "Oh, Jeff. You're an escort?" I couldn't help myself from chortling even if I was annoyed she did that. "Very funny, Cass."

She waved me off, "So, you and blondie." I turned back to her, "I'll have to get him to the Mojave Outpost."

"Looks like you'll be coming with us again, then." she observed.

"Yeah. The Followers are near to depleting their supplies, I have to do this or their medical efforts here will get disrupted." I added to clarify the situation. "Well, you're lucky there's still a room available beside mine. You'll have to share the bed with him though. This one's got no sofa and the floor's littered with an ungodly amount of trash."

"How the hell are the beds safe for sleeping?" I asked, surprised that El Rey Motel was that dirty if it was being used by caravan traders frequently. Because here in the wasteland, a rusty spring bed can kill you as easy as radiation could. And there aren't any tetanus shots available.

"We checked them, they're not spring beds. They're called some sort of foam-"

"Memory foam." I clarified. Those were some good memory foams if they lasted two centuries. "Yes, that- you alright?"

I shook my head, "Yeah, it's fine. What time do we leave?"

"Tomorrow at daybreak. We'll wake you up, if you don't wake us." she pointed at me.

I nodded. "Why'd everyone settled early?"

Cass grunted softly, "The damned Crimson Caravan Company, who else?"

"Want to talk about it? There's still a lot of time." I looked at her, expecting a good answer.

She looked at me, "First, you could take that suggestive smile off your face. And stop waving your eye brows. I'm too sober for this shit." she left for her room. When she opened it, she looked back at me, "Well, are you coming?"

My suggestive smile turned into one of smug.

"Yeah, yeah, you're good in bed. Now get inside."

-Memento Mori-

It was two hours later that Cassidy kicked me out her room, telling me to wake her up tomorrow morning.

With nothing to do, I searched for Arcade. I found him enjoying story sharing with the caravan guards. Seeing his mood, I decided not to bother him, just yet, and went to the guard outside the McCarran entrance.

"Patrolling the Mojave almost makes you wish for a nuclear winter." the guard said.

I waved his statement away.

"Are there any bounties available inside?" I asked. "No, sir. Word is that there's too many problems that need solving and they have no time for bounties." the soldier replied. "You know any fiend camps nearby?"

The soldier thought for a while and when he came up with an answer, it was one I liked, if a little bit long.

"There's a group of them near an old Poseidon Gas Station somewhere on the way to Red Rock Canyon, I think. But I'm not sure.

"Last I heard there was a small pack of deathclaws on Spring Mt. Ranch, two adults and a few hatchling. So maybe they're dead, seeing that the gas station and the Ranch are close.

"Or maybe both the Deathclaws and Fiends are, seeing that Red Rock Canyon is Khan territory."

I said my thanks and walked back to where I found Arcade still listening to the guards telling their stories.

"Arcade."

"Jeff, what do you need?"

"I'll go hunting, we have room 202. You can sleep there if you want, I'll be back in two hours."

He nodded and turned his attention back to the guards.

I walked back to the cart and opened the ammunition box that contained all of my replenishing bullets. I moved out all ammo from the ammunition box and just have to wait for it to replenish later tonight at 12AM.

I separated 10 mags of .50 armor piercing and all of my 10mm ammo from the stash, these are for me to use tonight.

Then I secured the .50 mags into my sling bag while the 10mm mags were affixed on the bandolier of my Merc Adventurer Outfit.

Since I have the Anti-materiel rifle slung on me with a loaded mag, I have 80 AP rounds. As well as 128 rounds of standard 10mm ammo. It was one of the good things about my purchases; I effectively have infinite ammo so long as I abuse the container and always take out my bullets before it replenishes.

I was loaded so I began my walk towards the fiend camp.

-Memento Mori-

One thing I forgot to pay attention to were the train cars.

In the game, when you go to South Vegas Ruins, where Vault 3 is located, you would normally see train wagons or railway wagons tipped over to act as a wall that would protect the fiends from NCR offensive.

But now that I passed by the area? I don't see them tipped over. They were all still on their railway tracks, but they were sitting unused on it's tracks near the Samson Rock Crushing Plant.

How I didn't see them when we traveled from Sloan and into McCarran, I don't know. But I can see them now.

Anyway, on to the fiends.

There were certainly fiends, not far from the Old Poseidon gas station, huddling around a barrel they were using as campfire.

And they were all high as fuck.

So I walked up towards north to put some distance between us. When I was a hundred feet from where I initially saw them, I was already near Sunset Sarsaparilla HQ. I checked around and found no one. It was relatively safe enough.

I got to my knee and tried to scope them out with my anti-materiel rifle, to see if they had good weapons. I was surprised they do.

Four of them have what looked like 9mm machine guns. Two have Laser RCW (Rapid Capacitor Weapon). But the last one was equipped with a fucking anti-materiel rifle, it might be banged up, but it can still shoot. I only have one approach to this, I just wish I didn't use all my grenades on those damned coyotes in Goodsprings.

I laid prone on the ground and got to scoping them out, I even readied two mags of .50, instead of one, just in case I missed some of them.

My breathing became measured. I relaxed my body and felt for my pulse.

Two of them were cleaning weapons with rags, the rest were busy getting high rather quietly. Those two are my priority, because they look in control of their faculties. When I've got my pulse, I started counting down.

"3.. 2.. 1."

I pulled the trigger between two heartbeats.

The other fiend who was cleaning guns immediately reacted while the rest were a second too slow before they brandished their guns.

I fired and another head turned to mist.

I can't hear them clearly from this distance but I can see them shouting in panic. The remaining fiends were all tripping, which allowed me to start picking them off without pattern.

My aim was now on their bodies due to their drugged and panicked movements. But after one reload, all of them were missing a good chunk of their chest. Then I double checked around the area, just in case, and finally made my way towards the bodies.

[Battle clear!] +121xp

Firing a .50 is a chore if you're not used to it. Not to say of the effects it has on organic matter; it is always messy.

I began to loot.

All their weapons were shitty, except the two Laser RCW, which looked extremely well-cared for. I took out a folded sack from my sling bag and began stashing all the guns inside. Their ammo count was also shit, they don't have anything for a reload and the only ones that do were the two guys cleaning the two Laser RCW, even then it was only two cells, one for each.

It made me more annoyed on how the heck these fiends survived out here.

Next, I checked them for drugs and money. They were all getting high from Psycho when I interrupted so no Psychos for me. On the other hand; I got three stimpacks, two Med-X, and two Buffouts. And then three hundred caps from all of them and $70 NCR worth of bills.

Without too much effort, I dragged their bodies towards the roaring flames of the barrel they gathered around. There were a few woods and sticks lying at it's base, as well as bottles of alcohol. It was enough to set up a bigger bonfire.

When I finished, I set them alight.

With one last look around, I went back to El Rey Motel.

No need to poke the pack of deathclaws down south.

-Memento Mori-

When I got to room 202, I saw Arcade going out the bathroom naked.

And holy sheet, his dick is bigger than mine.

Also, he's gay.

He quickly covered himself and tried to hide his embarrassment as he grabbed his clothes on the bed and rushed back to the bathroom.

I set down the sack of weapons beside the chair near the door and took off my duster.

There's one thing I like about the clothes I got from the Jump; they auto-clean.

Everyday, at 12AM, just as my ammunition and other supplies replenish, the clothes just becomes clean. Even the duster-coat I just took off.

I took off all the other clothes, besides underwear, and waited for Arcade to finish so I could take a short bath.

That's that other thing too.

Water.

I don't know how it works but everyone else can afford to use water from the old pipelines... if they're not afraid to get a little bit irradiated. Since everyone has grown enough tolerance to small doses of radiation, they got the habit of cleaning themselves.

The bathroom door opened and I just walked past Arcade.

I did my routine and cleaned what needs cleaning within five minutes. A luxury that I know some people don't have.

When I finished, I got out and took the clothes from the chair near the door and started dressing.

"Aren't you going to sleep, Arcade?"

Arcade, who was sitting on the bed, looked to me, "There's only a single bed."

"So?"

"What do you mean, so?"

"We share it."

Arcade groaned in frustration. "Fine."

As I finished clothing myself, I saw Arcade fall asleep.

That was quick.

Then I remembered his father was a member of the Enclave. Arcade may have probably picked up a lot from them, or even had training... makes me wonder why Julie needed me to escort him.

Well, with nothing much to do I got on the bed.

It was a tight fit with Arcade sleeping on his side, so I shook it off and held the my left arm.

[Sleep]
Hours: 1 - 24

I selected five hours on my pip-boy and fell asleep.

-Memento Mori-

When I woke up, I found myself as the big spoon and Arcade as the little one. Slowly, and carefully, I extricated myself from him.

I checked the time and it was 03:07 AM. Exactly four hours after I selected the sleep option.

I got out to the balcony and saw the current guard on duty on the ground, sitting near the dying flames of a camp fire.

"Hey there." I called.

He looked at me and gave his own greeting in the form of a nod and got back to watching over the brahmins.

Brahmins.

Another thing that I liked since coming here. The brahmins were just tied to wooden or steel carts as opposed to the game where the brahmin was forced to carry a lot of equipment that could reach the top of your head.

I am five feet and nine inches tall. I would be wincing in sympathy for any brahmin that will carry anything as tall as me.

"Who's next on duty?"

"Huh, wha?"

"Your replacement, who'll take next watch?"

A light bulb was missing as the guy suddenly understood me.

"Oh! Uh, no one. I just woke up... uh, I think 30 minutes ago."

"Cool."

Then we fell into silence again, watching over the brahmin.

That's also another thing... the brahmins here in front of me were lying down on one side and huddled close. It was so... I don't know what to say.

"Don't they look... peaceful?" I whispered.

"Uh, I guess..yeah? Probably 'cause they're sleeping."

"There's also this atmosphere I can sense about them." I pointed out to the guy.

"Ah, you must be smelling their shit too. Don't worry man, you'll get used to it."

I looked at the guy who didn't have the brain cells to hold a proper conversation with me. So I left and went back to the room and took out the loot sack, quietly.

The crisp and cold air felt nice on my face as I walked to the gun runners, whose shop was open 24 hours a day.

I greeted the Protectron and began transacting. There was a large and spacious chute were I could drop the items I like to sell. I placed the four sub-machine guns and one banged up anti-materiel rifle.

The robot spent several minutes assessing each items before saying that it will all be 2,186 caps and offered if I like to get payment now or buy some stuff.

Of course, I bought some stuff. 5 pieces of Bulk Eletron Charge Pack costing 50 caps each, meaning 300 shots worth of Bulk ECP for my RCWs.

And I also bought mods for my 10mm, a silencer and mag extension. Both of which got me to cough up an additional 410 caps.

I walked away a happy man, despite spending almost 500 caps.

Obviously, I didn't dawdle on my weapon mods and used the pip-boy to install them. The sounds of modding that it played were music to my ears.

My 10mm that would normally shoot 12 rounds, can now hold 16. And instead of 64 rounds split up into 5 magazines with 4 loose rounds, I only have to use 4 mags now... thing is? Even the magazines could be sold when it doesn't have bullets loaded.

If an empty 12rnd 10mm magazine can sell for 80 caps, what about the modded magazine from my pistol that can hold 16 rounds?

Only Gun Runners would buy them, though. Which is also another reason why I'm scrounging up bullets for as much as I could. Guns are uncommon in the wasteland. They're around, but not everyone has them. And those guns, most of the time, will only have one magazine when bought, or found.

Those who want to shoot with a reliable gun would be finding themselves searching for more magazine and bullets, as they fight through gunfires.

Ah, yes. I can smell the profit I could make from this.

-Memento Mori-

It was 03:51 AM when I got back to the motel and the sun was yet to rise. Since Cassidy told me to wake her up in the morning, I checked if the door to 201 was open.

It wasn't.

Good thing she gave me the key to the makeshift lock she used.

When I entered, I found her still naked on the bed with three new empty bottles on the bed.

I have some free time so I got naked myself, locked the door, and removed those bottles then got on the bed with Cassidy.

[Sleep]
Hours: 1 - 24

I selected one hour and welcomed sleep.

-Memento Mori-

I was woken up by Cassidy deciding to be grabby in her sleep. Her position, facing me, allowed me access to her C-cup breasts that moved with her breathing.

Then, she began to groggily speak, "I told you to wake me up morning. Not ungodly-morning." she groaned into my chest and subtly moved her hips to grind on my wood morning between her thighs.

"Cass, go back to sleep, you're drunk."

"ngghh" she groaned.

And we fell asleep after a few minutes.

-Memento Mori-

Cass woke me up again.

And she was feeling lethargic.

"Jeff, carry me. I have to piss."

I rolled my eyes and bridal carried her to the bathroom where she had me wait while she pissed.

She stood and got me to my knees, "Okay, now lick me clean."

I nodded, "Sur-mm-! No need to be for-mmph!"

"Yes~ do that thing where you slowly su- fuck~!

"I told you to lick not fing-! ooh shit- yes~! Oh-kay~ ok~!

"Fuuuuc~"

Cassidy moaned as I teased her clit and fingered her pussy quite sensually. Not once going fast nor slow, but steady delicate ministrations.

I felt her shiver and start weakly bucking her hips, which means she's only starting to feel it. I turned up my attention on her clit and began liberal use of suction and my tongue.

Her hips began light movement. She was feeling it good, so I started exploring her folds with my fingers. "Make me cum Jeff! Make me!" She began bucking her hips so I was forced to attack her spots with my fingers.

"Fucfucfucfuc~!"

Cassidy went wild and I was forced to compensate with my fingers because my tongue couldn't match her pace. But her moans were thick, indicating the desire for a release.

"Jeff-! JEFF-!" she came, convulsing around my fingers. As her hips slowed to a stop, I began savouring my time with her clit and slowly pumped pussy one last time. "JEFF~!" she came once again.

I slowly stood up while supporting her body.

"Did you enjoy-"

"fuckyes!" she groaned to me as I let her lean back on my chest, panting and gasping for air. "So, what next?" I asked her.

"You could hold me up and fuck my thighs again, just like last night." she said weakly. "Not sex?" I requested, really wanting to fuck her.

"No, Jeff. Not sex." she clarified, "But we could make out instead, if you want."

I turned her around and pinned my member between her thighs, feeling her warmth and wetness.

"I like that." I stated before kissing her.

It was hard to keep Cass upright, fuck her thighs, and have deep passionate kissing all at the same time. She's 5'7" and I'm 5'9", it was hard reaching her whenever I want to thrust.

But Cass was satisfied with only me between her and having a heavy make out session, that she secured her hands at the back of my neck while I held her, only made it more sensual.

Her tongue favored to seek mine just before I taste her lips, and I like to feel her lips with mine. She forced me to a battle of tongues where our saliva mixed and she kept on sending them to me every time our tongues change position. Something that I like.

As her lips separated from mine, only to come back again, Cass slowly began moving her hips. I let her move as we made out, and savoured instead her lips. My desire to fuck Cassidy was strong, and the wet cunt that's grinding on my length only made it stronger. Even the way she held on to me as we passionately kissed was making me lose my self control.

I tried to time one of her thrusts, so that when I lowered my hip, her entrance would cover the crown of my shaft.

When I felt her folds cover my tip, that's when Cass decided to stop.

"You really want to fuck me, do you?" she deep looked into my eyes, her hands on the back of my neck slowly shifting. "I'm trying not to. But I can't help myself." I murmured. "But, yes. I fucking do." I growled.

She smirked, "Too bad, I don't want sex." I sighed and wrapped her in my arms. "I know." I said and leaned my head to her.

We both fell into silence and remained embracing each other. It did not escape my notice that the tip of my crown was still on her entrance.

"Someday, I will convince you."

She laughed on my chest, "Yeah, someday. Let's take a bath."

She broke off and her warmth left me, but I followed her to the tub, positioned myself behind her, and place my length between her thighs once more as we sat down.

"The water isn't hot, you'll go soft." she stated as she opened the faucet. "But it feels like you don't care, so you have to wash me."

My hands found her perky breasts and started massaging, "Really?"

"Oh, yes. And you're not allowed to miss a single spot."

"But what about me?"

"You get to wash me, stud."

I lightly bit the nape of her neck.

"Yes~ You'll also have to do that." She moaned, "Come on, tease my tits." She suggested as her hand wrapped around my shaft. "Close the water." she said as her hand began to slowly run up and down my length.

"Fuck. I still can't believe you're this thick." she purred under my ministrations.

I was too busy nibbling her neck and teasing and twisting her tits. An effort she was mirroring with her hands around my member, pumping with calloused but dainty touch. A feeling I'm enjoying that I can't help but thrust my hips.

"Come on stud, your turn to cum." she said between moans as she also went with my thrusts, "You're getting harder, come for me stud. Cum."

I held on and focused on her as I lowered my other hand and began attacking her clit.

But Cassidy didn't want to be denied as she pumped me faster, even using her pussy to grind-

"Cass, I'm cummi-"

I came with a sharp thrust, her hands gripping me painfully hard, and she still pumped me as I shot my load.

I bit hard onto her neck, and again, I came harder.

"You're coming a lot~" she pumped me.

I groaned, and shot once more.

"You're such a stud!"

Spent, I laid back and let us sink a little further into the water.

I groaned again, this time, into her rosy cheeks as she slowly turned around and lied on top of me. We didn't share a word as she began to actually take an sensual bath on my lap. But I just laid back, my dick was too sore; I want to rest.

After her sensual bathing, she gave me this intense look of consideration. It was then, I found out, that the lovely Rose of Sharon Cassidy decided to give me a sensual bath in thanks of my respect towards her choices.

-Memento Mori-

I opened the door and let Cassidy and myself out.

Even when I achieved release, and was showered with sensual kisses, I was feeling unsatisfied. Something that annoyed and made Cass tease me over it.

It led me to thinking about different things and assorted stuff to take my mind off what happened on Room 201 of El Rey Motel for the past few days.

"Cass."

She raised her eyebrow.

"I'll go on ahead. I'll meet you guys on the 188 or Grab 'n Gulp." I said. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Don't worry, I'll just take care of something."

She gave me a saucy grin, "Sure it ain't your lower head, Jeff?"

I shook my head with a small smile, "I'm sure Cass."

"Alright, safe travels."

"Before I leave; can you please take care of Sheriff and Arcade?"

"You haven't introduced us yet." she said with a tilt of her head. "Oh, yeah... Do you want to? I think he's about to wake-" her chaste kiss shut me up. "It's fine." she said softly. I nodded in response, "Stay safe. I'll be seeing you shortly."

I took off to my target; REPCONN HQ.

-Memento Mori-

My run towards Repconn was uneventful.

But what transpired during my run was interesting. As I was running, I wasn't paying to my surroundings then, but one thing I noticed that I was using Action Points, while running.

How did I notice if everything was found on my Pip-Boy? Simple, I was looking at my pip-boy when I was on the run.

When I was only a few meters away from Repconn, I slowed to a jog which suprised me because the number climbed up. I never had the chance to observe my pip-boy during any firefight or combat of any kind. I was too busy trying my damnedest to survive.

According to my Pip-Boy I have 355HP and 227AP, both at max. During my run up until I slowed to a jog and stopped, my Action Points stopped at 26... right before climbing up.

After what I think was 1 minute and 56 seconds, my action points were back to full. I think that was 221/116 which... is... 1.905 AP per second. And considering that I just ran what I think was a full kilometer... I was fucking fast!

And I didn't notice!

So focused was I on reaching Repconn, and watching my pip-boy, that I failed to see how many handyman robots were hovering around the building grounds.

There were too many, I had to stop counting at 12.

Those are 12+ flamethrowers or plasma pistol if they have it.

Good thing they were friendly and allowed me to enter inside.

"Hello and welcome to REPCONN, Rocketeer! Would you like a tour?" the handyman bot asked me. "Yes, I would."

"Excellent choice Rocketeer! I am your guide. Please follow and do not stray; any accident or injury will not be covered by REPCONN if you are found without a tour guide.

"Without further ado, let's take off!"

I followed the robot but headed right away for the room holding their model of the solar system. If I remember, there was a corpse of an employee there.

I went through the door and into the room located on the left side. It further led me to the second floor of the room and there I saw the corpse with the Keycard on the large terminal-console thing.

I nabbed the Key Card and immediately made my way down to the first room of the Tour; straight towards the unopened door to their gift shop. I looted the all the currency, both pre-war bills and bottle caps.

When I got to the locked room behind the register, I checked if it was really locked. I gave it a pull and- yep, it is locked.

I pulled out a flat head screw driver and a bobby pin... and without even prodding, just trying to twist the lock to get a feel, it just opened.

This door, as far as I remember, was a Door with a [Hard Lock] or at least [Average] which would require 50 in lockpicking. I was just fooling around, try to get myself a laugh, see if I can open it; and then it just suddenly unlocked with a loud click.

I was... dumbstruck.

My skills in lockpicking were only at 33% there's no chance-

Then, I understood.

My skills were all in percentages because they indicate the chances, of success, of any action.

I understood.

My mind was racing with all the things I could do!

It was overpowered.

And I had to repress a gleeful shudder, because holy sheet! What will be the chances of me hitting an enemy with 100% proficiency on Guns?

ONE. HUNDRED. FUCKING PERCENT!

I will never fucking miss.

I had to repress another shudder as I contemplated the possible effects of my other skills if they reach 100%.

If I somehow interpreted things wrong, then at least it showed that at 100%, I will always be proficient with the skill.

But I needed further data. I needed further proof. I only have 22% on my Science skill. A skill I can test it on the computer in the reception area.

After I looted the stockroom of valuables, I made my way into the reception area and the terminal. My mind was focusing on my memories on how to access the debug log- I remembered something. I booted it up and got to the welcome screen.

My fingers typed in the most annoying lines in my entire play through of fallout.

-SET TERMINAL/INQUIRE

The terminal displayed that "RIT-V300" response then the insertion bar began blinking again. Signalling that I could type once more.

I tried to remember the next lines. I really did. But I was coming up blank.

I spent the next four minutes when a eureka got to me.

SET FILE/PROTECTION=OWNER:RWED ACOUNTS.F

Then... I blanked again, but only for a few seconds before I remembered;

SET HALT RESTART/MAINT

What the terminal printed onto the screen made me happy.

Initializing RobCo Industries(TM) MF Boot Agent v2.3.0 RETROS BIOS RBIOS- 52EE5.E7.E8 Copyright 2201-2203 RobCo Ind. Uppermem: 64 KB Root (5A8) Maintenance Mode

Then the insertion bar began to blinking.

I entered the final line to access the debug log.

-RUN DEBUG/ACCOUNTS.F

And holy sheet.

Holy sheet.

Holy fucking sheet.

It was all there, jumbles of words, numbers, and random terminal link-code. But it was all there. The actual character jumbles of what could pass for real-life passwords instead of the dictionary words in the game. It was all there.

This made guessing the passwords easier and harder.

Any insight, that can be gathered into the personality of the terminal's user, can hint or outright indicate the password.

However, what bothered me was that there was no indicator on how many tries I have left.

It was daunting.

One wrong entry and you might lock yourself forever.

I remember the passcode to the 3rd floor being Ice Cream, but I wasn't so sure about this terminal.

But I couldn't just stay here forever, I have already been here for nearing 20 minutes. So, I gambled.

My fingers tapped, and the keys clacked.

REPCONNOAT1E#11

It was wrong.

It was fucking wrong.

But nothing changed.

My entry was just there, right above the insertion bar.

I tried another.

REPCONNDU1

Nothing.

There were no responses.

I was getting irritated and decided to use my pip-boy. I navigated to the misc tab and began the laborious chore of jotting down every single password I see.

When I was done, a good two minutes later, I typed EXIT on the terminal and waited. The terminal rebooted and got to the welcome screen and I went on to enter every single password I have on my pip-boy.

Upon submitting the first password, I was greeted with the indicator of my chances left, but without a clue of whether I have any matching characters or not.

I entered again the next one, it failed.

The next one; failed again.

I was still quite alright because I've had 5 chances.

Last one before I reboot the terminal.

REPCONNDU1

The screen suddenly changed.

Success!

HA!

SUCK ON THAT BITCHES! The pip-boy confirmed for me with it's spazzing sound on exp gain. I looked on the notification.

[Hacked!] +50xp

Sheet yeah!

I scrolled up and saw the other notice.

[Pick-it!] +50xp

I was a satisfied man who took out his lockpicking kit again and picked the door.

It was also a satisfied man who walked through the picked-door and sat himself in front of the terminal on his left. Who then began cracking the terminal.

It was also a happy man that stood up with his facial pattern recorded into the employee database.

It was also a happy man that made his way further and into the locked door and terminal with a [Very Hard] difficulty.

Sixteen minutes and fifteen bobby pins later, it was a very happy man that got himself the Quantum v35 Matter Modulator Plasma Rifle.

Said happy man went on to the fucking third floor and screamed "ICECREAM! YOUSCREAM! WESCREAM!" on a handy bot and proceed to loot anything of valuable including the intact REPCONN Executives Briefcase that held 200 pieces of pre-war money and the Executive Keycard.

It was also a happy man who began to disconnect the building's network from whatever it was currently connected while leaving behind an order to resume previous operations.

Sadly, there were no Brotherhood Paladins, so no easy power armors. But it was still a happy man that fucking assigned his facial pattern as the Chief Executive here in this fucking REPCONN HQ.

Did you know who that said happy man was? The same man who got lucky and acquired the maintenance manual for the robots? Including the hidden sentry bots?

It was I, Jeffrey!

A very fucking happy man!

I've got a platoon of Mister fucking Handies!

And a squad of sentry bots as the icing!

The cherry would be the sweet-sweet Maintenance Manual.

I got myself a cake in the for of REPCONN HQ.

It's a trump card I will be sure to keep.

You know what I could do to this place? Fortify the hell out of it. Since this building has it's own backup power generator that can run for a century if, somehow, the Hoover Dam got destroyed.

It was a worthwhile endeavour.

A happy man made his way to the second floor and began to loot.

It was also a happy man that got to the ground floor and straight outside and into the sunshine, smiling like a loon and feeling like there's no fucking way it could get ruined.

But since I know this is Fallout, I stopped that line of thought. I just pulled out the two [Nikola Tesla and You] books and began to read.

Mid-way into reading the table of contents, my pip-boy began producing that sweet sweet music.

[Comprehension] perk acquired!
Reading skill books give an additional bonus point and magazines will give double the effects.

I wanted to shout and scream my joy but I tried to hold myself back and took the other book.

My pip-boy spazzed that jam again and I was gooing CRAZY!

"FUUUUUUUUUUUUU-"

-Memento Mori-

The group of three caravans, their guards, and Arcade Gannon heard the shout.

Everyone's reaction was quick and guns were already pointing towards the horizon. Even Arcade's Plasma Defender was lose and pointing towards the ground, the holder's eyes scanning for any threat.

The shout was one of exultation. But any shout at all, even a shout for help, is subject to suspicion. This was the truth of the wasteland. Everything is dangerous, even the food you eat might kill you. The water you drink can give you glowing neon piss.

So when someone was shouting it was one of two things.

A call for attention or a misdirection.

It turns out, it was neither.

"That was fucking Jeff!" a guy shouted from his cart, binoculars pointing towards REPCONN HQ.

Cassidy snorted. "I didn't know he was a screamer."

Everyone chuckled.

"Come on, let's meet him halfway. I'm sure he's got some exciting news for us."

Everyone agreed and they continued their travel.

"Oh! Hey, he's waving at us!"

Everyone looked again, only to see a rapid moving blur.

"HOLY SHIT!" one guy shouted.

Everyone shared his thoughts.

Jeff was one fast motherfucker.

What looked to be 200 meters, he crossed in seconds like a starving deathclaw chasing a juicy meal.

And then he just stopped in front of them, unwinded.

"What? Something wrong? The fuck hap-"

It was one smooth action, transitioning from facing them and ending in Jeff scanning where he came from and the relative horizon.

-Memento Mori-

My sight caught movement and I was forced to pay attention. It turns out it was the caravan guys.

I energetically waved to them.

And they have Sheriff and Arcade! It was perfect. It means I don't have to go back and fetch the two. Cassidy kept her word.

And then I ran.

Just like how I did when I headed for REPCONN.

I stopped in front of them, confused at their jaws on floor.

"What? Something wrong? The fuck hap-" I pulled my pistol and aimed from where I came from and the nearest possible blindspot I didn't see when I was on the bridge.

"There's nothing." I said and turned to them, "The hell spooked you guys?"

Then it hit me like a fucking Behemoth Supermutant throwing a tantrum using his Fire fucking Hydrant.

I just ran.

And they saw me run.

"Ah," I mouthed in realization, "Oops?"

"The fuck do you mean, oops? The hell did you do?! What was that? Are you a mutant or sumthin'?" one guy asked, I never caught their names.

But his question painted another thing about the wasteland.

They passively hate mutants.

Granted, there were special cases. But The Master's and Capital Wasteland Super Mutants can change everyone's mind.

"I ran." I replied.

"Ran? That wasn't running, that was sprinting on drugs- are you tripping on something, man?"

"Nah, it's all natural. You get used to it if a pack of Deathclaws tries to hunt you for a fucking month and a half... then pickup your trail for a year... I think they're still back at the Divide where I lost them."

My lies, of course, were ridiculous.

But they just saw me run, on what I think was, the speed of an adult deathclaw.

"You know what? That sounds unlikely, but knowing the Divide, it probably happened."

I nodded sagely, "Never step a foot on the Divide."

"Let's all agree to forget what happened and move on, we're burning daylight." Cassidy said, almost intoning to herself, just loud enough for everyone to hear.

Everyone voiced their assent or nodded and resumed the walk towards 188.

I was pulled to the back by Cassidy with Arcade up ahead watching us from his seat on the cart tied onto Sheriff.

"What was that?" Cass whispered.

I shrugged. "My hard earned skills from outrunning a deathclaw."

"Bullshit. Deathclaws are faster."

I nodded, "Yes. And they are also bigger than me. You have to learn to pull some crazy moves in the Divide to avoid everything. I was lucky I was alive." Of course, I was lying through my fuckin teeth. But I don't have any other explanation.

"A year of running doesn't turn you into that."

"Not if you're fucking high on adrenaline, heart pumping three men's worth of blood, and lungs on napalm trying to burn ungodly amounts of oxygen. My muscles got used to it. The cutting winds of the Divide, the radstorms, the creatures. I got stuck for a year, I had to adapt."

"If you're that fast, what about last night and this morning?"

Wha-? "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean."

"Ah," it clicked on me.

Sex and stamina.

"That? I'm a sensual guy. I don't go for meaningless quick fucks. Didn't you notice me doing special things you like?"

"Of course I'd notice, I'm at the receiving end!" she hissed quietly.

And our conversation took a different turn, time to sort it back.

"Let's stop it here, our talk is going nowhere. HEY GUYS-!"

She pulled on my sleeve, "Jeff-!" alarm, visible on her entire body and voice.

"EVERYONE GETS FREE SARSA TONIGHT! DRINK'S ON ME!"

"Truly, our favorite Sarsaparilla Supplier!" someone cried in joy. "Thanks man!" one guy shouted. And the others pretty much said their thanks in the same, but different, way.

"You sonofabitch-!" Cass pinched my side, really hard, "I thought you were going to shout about us!"

"I don't kiss and tell." I guffawed, "Maybe you do!"

She smacked the back of my head. "I'm serious."

"No. You're-" smack

"If you say something about me being Cassidy and not serious, I will rip your toungue out and eat it."

"Oooh~ Kinky~ I lov-" she smacked me again "I'm not a masochist so please stop-" SMACK "alright, alright. Geez. Hold your horses until we get to a locked roo-" she smacked me again and harrumphed and went to her own caravan people.

Arcade just watched our interaction. Which he may or may not have heard, but definitely saw, I don't really care.

Soon, we passed the Grab n' Gulp, and was on the way to the 188, walking through the underpass to let the brahmins some shade and let everyone rest for a little while before we pushed for Novac.

I know myself that the chances of me seeing Veronica out here are slim, but there she was, leaning on the stone rails overseeing the underpass and looking at our group. We made eye contact and I gave a small wave. She gave an even smaller wave and continued studying our group before losing interest.

I tried going to her before I remembered that there was a Psyker here. A kid with the head brace. But when I looked, he wasn't there. I nodded to myself. It wasn't canon timeline yet.

Although, and here I got goosebumps, on the kid's place was an old man who was wearing some old and tattered strange robes and a wooden staff. And the beard, holy shit it-was-on-the-ground long.

I think the old man was sat asleep on the pavement while his wooden staff rested on his shoulders... and then reality blinked and he was suddenly standing.

My hand was already on my 10mm and took a step bac- I was suddenly in fron of him. I didn't waste time aiming, I just pulled the trigger from my hip.

Nothing happened.

"What's happening right now is an illusory sight." the old man... spoke in old man sagely-wisdom-filled voice. Complete with the tone and echo and inflection and shit.

"Tell what you want."

The old man opened his eyes and looked at me with... are those Byakugan?

"My eyes are white, yes. But when I release this illusion, you must tell no one of our words. Promise me."

I wanted to let out a long suffering sigh but answered straight, "I promise."

The old man nodded.

"Good, you may refer to me as Revelation and listen well." he said as he held his staff. "She-Who-Wanders will come. If you want to stop the tide, you must now begin. When you meet her, prepare for blood. Whe she wanders, be her sun. And whatever happens, do not let her run."

Then reality blinked again.

I was standing back with the caravan, away from the old man, my right hand resting slack on the weathered 10mm pistol.

The old man I was staring at was nothing but piles of rubble with a rebar sticking out on top. It looked as if I was hallucinating.

But the words and imagery were real.

If it wasn't a hallucination, then almost anything could've happened to me before, and during, my vision.

And everyone was doing what they were previously doing before I got dragged into witnessing the words.

My pip-boy spazzed a long quest music and I looked.

[She-Who-Wanders] quest received!
She-Who-Wanders will come, prepare the Mojave or yourself for her arrival.

[Old World Blues] quest update!
The satellite is about to crash in a week!

It was not a happy man who stared at those two quests.

It was not a happy man that got his metaphorical sucker punch and wanted to puke his guts right now.

It was not a happy man whose words failed to convey the very thoughts racing through his very mind.

"What the fuck."

It was close enough.