To be perfectly honest, I don't really expect many people to read this story, but it's really more of a passion project than a cry for popularity. This is the first fic I've ever published, so please forgive a few of the spelling and formatting errors. I'm still getting used to the editing system. At any rate, I hope those of you who do read this enjoyed the first chapter!
Also, to clear things up, the weird scorpion was a eurypterid and Richard is an Ichthyornis.
Fallout belongs to Bethesda, which I suppose now belongs to Microsoft. Dinotopia was created by James Gurney.
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Courier Six was looking for trouble. Not that he was a masochist or anything... ok he kind of was but that's beside the point. He just really liked to have a good time, and a good time for Six usually came in the form of copious amounts of food, ungodly amounts of booze, life or death situations, or any mix of those three really. So, as he scanned the jungle for any signs of fire-spewing iguanas or feral ghoul hula-dancers, or any sort of tropical island themed mutant, he brought out his pistol, That Gun. Y'know, That Gun. It was quite possibly his favorite pistol, largely because of the name.
Though Six was always up for a good time, his main goal currently was to find some grub. Sure, he had piles of non-perishables back at the boat, but he always considered himself something of a connoisseur, and he really wanted to see what sort of critters you could cook up in a jungle, like a ghoul-flamingo or something. Of course, his food finding capabilities were currently somewhat dampened, given he didn't generally go hunting anywhere where the vegetation was quite this dense. Out in the Mojave you'd just be able to scan the red-brown horizon and usually you'd find a gecko or a mole rat or something. Occasionally, if the beastie was angry enough, it'd just come charging right at you, no searching required. Here it was just green, green, more green, and oh look more green. Six was halfway tempted to head back to the boat, grab his Fat Man, and nuke the place just so he could see more than five feet around, when he heard a rustling a few yards behind him.
"Hehe, now we're getting somewhere. Be silent now, Richard. The game is afoot." Six said. Richard heard none of it, as he'd gotten bored and fallen asleep sitting on his shoulder. Six crouched down, and crept forward through the underbrush, pistol at the ready. As he pushed his way through the foliage, he peaked out into a small clearing, and he sighted his quarry. There were two of 'em, both about the size of a pig, with hairless red skin, a tan underbelly, a body like an iguana-pig hybrid, and a head like a parrot. On his second observation, Six noticed one of them actually did have some sharp looking quills coming out of its backside. Still, despite their weird looks Six had seen far, far weirder. He'd eaten weirder too. "Better hit the spiky one first." Six thought to himself. As he prepared to take his shot, he failed to account for Richard waking up and giving a squawking yawn. The two pig-lizards turned towards the sound, and Six found himself in an fairly awkward staring contest. The two lizard-things stared at him in a somewhat bewildered and curious manner, while Six was just wondering why the hell these things didn't bolt the second they realized he was there. "Oh, right. Isolated tropical island. You guys have probably never seen a human before, have you?" Six asked the creatures rhetorically.
His response was some rather confused sounding squeaking and squawking from the two. "Well, normally I'd call this unsportsmanlike, but the only person around to judge is Richard, and he's even more morally grey than I am, so sayonara piggies." Six said as he leveled his pistol at the quilled one's head, which gave an undignified squeal, likely having just realized the situation. Before he could pull the trigger, he felt a rumbling in the ground. His first thought was that a nuke must be launching, though given he was in the ass end of nowhere he disregarded that thought immediately. His second instinct was that it must be an earthquake or a volcano. He'd heard those were big on islands like this. However, when he listened closer he realized that earthquakes don't growl.
It was Six's turn to give an undignified yelp when the trees parted and revealed the source of the rumbling. Six was never that well educated, but he knew what he was looking at right now. Dinosaurs. Fucking DINOSAURS. Those big ass lizards which were supposed to be millions of years dead, THOSE DINOSAURS. There were the ones with the spiky heads, the big long neck ones, the ones with the clubs, the ones with the spike tails, at least a dozen individuals of varying species. The only thing that could make things even more intimidating was if a fucking T. rex showed up. They had gathered around him in a semicircle, and were all looking at him with what seemed to be a mix of confusion and concern.
Six, of course, didn't realize this. He was mainly focused on the fact that the big ass reptiles were apparently friends with the things he'd just tried to make his brunch, given the spike-head one was standing over them protectively, and that he was nearly surrounded. Now Six was no idiot. He knew how to handle himself in a fight, but he also knew how to appropriately analyze and respond to a situation. It was how he'd managed to survive so long in the chaotic hellscape that is the Mojave. So, Six took a deep breath, and gave his most eloquent response to the situation: "Fuck this." Then he fired a shot in the air, stuffed Richard into his coat, and ran like hell.
Six, to his credit, was actually pretty fast. He normally didn't have to run too much anymore, given he had enough weapons and ammo to take most things that came at him, but there were notable exceptions. This situation was one such exception. Six didn't hear any footfalls from behind himself, probably because the gunshot had left the dinos bewildered for a bit. "Oh guns, you're the most reliable thing in my life." Six thought to himself as he sprinted towards the beach. As he broke through the tree line, he noticed Raul sitting by a fire, roasting the scorpion-thing on a stick. "Oh yeah we could've just eaten that. Well hindsight's 20/20." Six thought. "Raul!" Six yelled. "Get the Fat Man! This place's got fucking dinosaurs!" Raul, to his credit, dropped the scorpion immediately and bolted to the boat. He didn't actually think there were dinosaurs, but whatever it was had Six spooked, and that had him spooked.
He'd just gotten to the boat when the first of the creatures came stomping out of the trees. Raul froze for a second, not believing his eyes. He'd seen a lot of weird things in his two hundred fifty-ish years of existence, but this quite possibly took the cake. "Oh maldito infierno!" Raul screamed when he realized the beasts were getting closer. He rummaged through the boat as fast as he could, looking for Six's nukes. Six was outside, pistol trained on the rapidly approaching herd of prehistoric monstrosities. "Raul, hurry the fuck up!" Six yelled. Richard was sitting on his shoulder, squawking indignantly, likely about having been rudely shoved into an old, smelly coat. Six didn't care, he was in full on combat mode, eyes fixed firmly on the long-neck's head. He figured if he could headshot the big one, it might scare off the smaller ones.
The herd reached them just as Raul came out with the Fat Man locked and loaded. Before either he or Six could fire their weapons, something unexpected happened. The dinosaurs stopped. They stopped dead in their tracks, and just stared at them. Six and Raul, not used to giant monsters that don't immediately attempt to kill them, just stared right back. What neither of the two expected was for one of the piggy dinosaurs from earlier to step out from behind the long-neck, and boldly stride right up to them. What happened after that, however, nearly made Six lose his shit, and nearly gave old Raul an aneurysm. The creature opened its mouth, and it said: "Hello."