... You know? I feel like I say sorry every time I upload a new chapter, I hate to take soooo damn time to finish a chapter, and this one was a HELL to write, I literally have 4 different versions of this same chapter because I didn't exactly know what I wanted. Should 6 and 101 see Ozpin or Qrow or Ruby or anyone else right away? Should they be left alone? questions like these are the reason it took me forever to finish!
Anyway, I see that now I have 49 followers! I'm thankful for that, trust me, I am, you guys are the best, I hope I can entertain you some more.
I'll talk to you guys more at the end of the chapter.
"Perfect, they just arrived and the first thing they do is kill each other."
Overseeing recent events, were the brothers, who have decided not to interfere with their old world, however that doesn't mean they can't watch this new experiment.
"The god of death and destruction is upset about death and destruction?"
"If I do recall correctly dear brother, it is you who is always preaching that "there is a time and place for everything"."
"Give them time brother, let us see what they can do."
"All set up and done, any irregularities?" He hears the question from his radio.
"Nothing to report."
It was a beautiful night at the communications tower of Fort Vox; the support crew is just finishing their last check-up of the night on the radio tower.
"You sure, control?"
The man gets out of his chair and sees outside the window. You can hardly see anything out there, the only illumination comes from the moon, letting the people see the three line of the forest.
"We'll live for another day; don't worry, you guys go and get some sleep."
"Alright, but don't go and bother us later, see you in the morning, dude."
"Yeah, yeah, good night."
Control takes another sip of his coffee, and double checks the computer systems. Everything is so peaceful that is even a bit boring, but hey, anyone on the Fort would gladly take 'boring' every day rather than having to deal with the Grimm.
Sightings of Grimm have been minimal, no sightings of bandits whatsoever, and they just got resupplied today, meaning that their food rations for tonight weren't half bad, they even got some pies.
What a peaceful night it was.
"Shhhhhhhhhhhhhh ... Who ga- shhhh control shhhhhhhh weapons!"
Huh?
"Damn it! shhhhhhhhhhh you had ONE job!"
"This is a secure channel, identify yourselves."
"..."
"Do you copy? Over."
"..."
"I repeat, do you copy? Over."
"..."
That's odd.
"This is Comm Tower to any outside patrols, do you copy?"
"This is search patrol A, we copy you, over."
"I receive a strange transmission from outside the perimeter, can you check it out? Over."
"Affirmative."
"Alright, sending you the coordinates."
Ouch.
The pain was the first thing the traveler felt as he woke up from his slumber. The forest greeted him with a cold breeze as the sun began to rise up in the sky, replacing the broken moon and bringing the light.
The tall grass caressed his body, welcoming him, birds sang in the trees only for his ears to hear, if it weren't for the pain this would be a lovely moment. He is grateful that those same birds and the rest of the forest animals (and possibly mutants) were kind enough to not eat him while he slept, though.
Well, I'm alive.
In all honesty, the traveler is more amused than surprised for his own survival, at this point in his life he would be more surprised if he actually died (because, well, you know, getting shot in the head twice, getting his brain and other organs remove by a bunch of crazy scientists, other traumatic events, and more recently, getting engulf by a big ass light, apparently, don't do the trick).
Opening his eyes, his vision is blurry as heck, and his head is spinning like crazy, like that time he party with the Khans, but not nearly as fun.
(Status: crippled limbs; Torso)
He looks around and finds one of his bags not far from his resting place, near a tree. Turning himself to face the ground, he crawls towards the bag, every movement increasing the pain in his whole body, especially in his stomach, until reaching the damn thing.
Putting his back against the tree, Six takes the bag, takes out a bunch of medical supplies to patch himself up; chems, tequila, syringes, etc. and then proceeds to finally notice how the knife is STILL on his belly.
Oh! But of course, it is!
Cursing the bastard who put it in there and himself for not noticing it before, Six takes off his duster, the armor, and afterward lifts his shirt. Takes a piece of cloth, a swing of tequila, pulls out the knife, and cleans the wound with the alcohol.
"Gah!" He endures the pain with more tequila.
Takes a few more moments to clean the cut with the alcohol and the cloth. The most difficult part is over, now the cowboy just needs to shut the wound before it gets infected.
Taking a Stimpak, he injects himself in the abdomen and pushes the plunger. The familiar feeling of organs being fix and new skin forming in his body came quickly, and not long after a new scar appeared in his body.
(Status: crippled limbs fixed.)
Oh! The wonders of modern science.
Taking some pain killers and some other chems, the Courier of the Mojave rests his head against the tree, and closes his eyes trying to calm down.
Man, do I feel like shit.
Flashing images of a fight came to his mind, remembering the GOAC, the Doctor, and all the shit that went down last night. Also, one specific image kept coming back, lingering in his mind.
Goddamn it guys, you had one job.
I don't know what's happening at Big Mountain right now, but I do hope the guys manage to get everything under control, because the last thing I want to see when I get back home is a war between Robot-scorpions and newly bred Cazadors.
He must call them, later thought, right now, all he cares about is peace.
"Hey."
And sadly, his peace ends rather quickly as he hears the greeting from the other person alive there. Opening his eyes, he manages to see a blurry figure not far from his position, a soldier sits against another tree; his jacket off, as well as the upper part of his leather armor, and a needle in his chest, one can hear the faint sound of bones reorganizing in said place as the man's face lets out a gesture of pain.
"Hey." The Courier returns the greeting a bit surprised. Usually, he's the only idiot alive when this sort of weird thing happens.
Turning his attention to the bodies on the floor, his mind starts to wonder.
Wait, does this mean?
Throwing the empty bottle of tequila at the closes one, the bottle hits its target's head, the hit causes a bonk sound, bounces off to the ground, and rolls all the way to the soldier's feet. Said soldier stares at the bottle for a while with a blank look, before changing his attention to who throw it.
"They are dead."
"Just to be sure."
"... Okey."
They sit still on their spots quietly, looking at each other, judging each other.
Did he get paler?
His sword is still on his belt, his SMG is on the floor next to him. Maria is in my hip, and the knife I just got out of my body is next to me.
"Soooooo, still among the living, huh?" Six asks.
"So, it would seem."
"You Are living, right? I'm not hallucinating, am I?"
Because I really don't need more ghosts in my life.
"I could ask you the same thing."
Touché.
Even though they are heavily wounded, surrounded by the dead, and are treating each other with suspicion, the atmosphere of the place feels strangely calm.
"Have you seen our good friend Patricia around here?"
"Unfortunately, no, I think we are the only ones who made it here."
Apart from the trees and the dead mercs, the only other things around them are a bunch of crates, broken glass, and what seems to be some parts of a burned-out wagon. Also, there are small creates in the ground, and some of the trees have burn marks.
"Where is "here" exactly?"
"Good question and I have no answer." The guy checks his Pip-Boy. "My Pip-Boy doesn't receive any signal, what about yours?"
Bringing up his right arm, the Courier interacts with the machine.
"Same."
That's odd
No matter where he went, Vegas, New Reno, the Divide, underground, the shiny machine always told him where he was, and from what the Mojave resident knew about RobCo's designs, the Pip-Boy connects directly to the satellites of the former US government in orbit, so there shouldn't be a place in the Wasteland where the computer can't connect.
"What happened?"
"I remember a big flash of light, then came the pain, then nothing, and lastly came, well." The stranger lifts his arms and points out their surroundings. "This."
"I see."
Maybe the GOAC broke their computers, it's possible that they are still on Rojo but the GOAC terraformed the place, not the craziest situation he has face. Whatever the case, they shouldn't be laying out in the open like this, as the old saying goes; 'moving a couple of feet a day keeps the Deadclaw at bay'.
"Anyway, I don't think it would be prudent for us to stay here." The guy continues.
"You took the words out of my mouth, buddy, however there's a more important matter at hand here."
"Which is?"
"Well, you see, hmm … you know what? Fuck manners, I'm just going to say it, are you going to kill me?"
"... I'm sorry, what?"
"Let's be honest; the only reason we teamed up was because we didn't want to deal with another person trying to kill us, we were allies because of the situation, nothing else. Hell! You have been looking at my guns this whole time, waiting for me to make a move, and I'll be honest, I've been doing the same thing."
(Perception check: Pass)
I may be a lot of things, but at least I'm an honest man ... alright, mostly an honest man ... okay, half of an honest man ... Look conscience! I just woke up in the middle of the forest! I don't need judgment in my life right now!
They're both searching for the GOAC, and as everyone has seen, anyone looking for the damn thing wants the competition dead, so the trust isn't exactly overflowing here. Snake (if that's even his real name) doesn't break eye contact, and keeps a stern face while thinking.
"True, the Doctor and GOAC aren't here, though." The soldiers responded. "There is no actual reason for us to fight."
I beg to differ.
Just because they don't need to fight right now doesn't mean they won't fight in the future, and if one of us manages to kill the other, then he'll have one less problem to worry about.
However, killing without reason is something I don't like to do, and he's willing to maintain peace between us, at least for now.
"Can I trust you?"
"No, can I trust you?"
"Hmm, no, not really."
The silence came back to the forest as the travelers kept staring at each other.
"Welp." Six takes another Stimpak, injects himself with the chem, and starts putting his clothes and armor back on. "We better start moving."
"Are we there yet?"
The woman in charge of the group lets out another annoyed sigh.
"For the eight-time, Corporal, no, we aren't there yet."
Search patrol A wanders thru the forest at night, searching for the origin of the strange transmission they received back at the Fort. They move cautiously, with their weapons raised and checking their surroundings for any movement.
"Why didn't you let B take the call?"
"Aww, is the little cat scared of the dark?" Said another member of the group.
"Okey, first, piss off, Bat, and second, I'm not afraid of the dark, I'm afraid of what we can find In the dark."
Any smart person should be scared of what the night can bring, especially if you are outside the kingdoms. The Grimm, bandits, and wildlife are just some of the many dangers you may encounter, so if you are in the outerlands, your best choice for survival is to find a safe hole and defend it with your life.
"Captain."
"What is it Sergeant?"
"I need to notify my findings."
"Any hostiles?"
"No, sir."
"Then what is it?"
"Using my keen senses and the information at hand, I have come to the conclusion that fecal matter has infiltrated the safe zone designated as 'Corporal Harald's panties', sir."
The rest of the group lets out a small laugh.
*Static* "This is Comm tower to Search patrol A, do you copy? Over."
"All of you shut up, it's best if we don't attract any undesired attention." The leader says as she reaches for her radio. "This is Search patrol A, we copy you Comms, over."
"Did you already reach the coordinates?"
"Negative, we are moving carefully, we received a report from some Hunters a while back, there was a big wolf pack who have made this territory their home, better not to disturb them in the night."
"Good, don't take risks, if you guys think this is too dangerous, come back and we'll send someone else in the morning."
"Don't worry about us, just notify the medics and the guards at the northwest gate in case we find injured people."
"Copy that, hear you guys later, over and out."
Putting the radio back on her belt, she turns to her team.
"Harald, Micah, do you detect something?"
The cat faunus uses his night vision to double-check the back while the human secures the front.
"Still nothing, either the pack is sleeping, or they left this place."
"Or something else scared them off this place."
"You are not helping my nerves, Micah."
"Pink, what can your sonar tell us?"
The batgirl closes her eyes and concentrates on the sounds around her.
"I can only hear birds and some small mammals, rats, maybe bunnies."
"Getting a bit hungry, aren't we, bat?" Harald said with a smirk.
"Piss off, cat."
"Alright, let's keep moving then."
The group of nine keep walking under the light of the broken moon, if they hurry and finish this task, they may get back just in time to get something decent to eat for once, maybe even those pies the others won't shut about.
"Uh oh." Said their sonar.
"What?"
"Four hostiles coming from our 10, moving fast."
"Defensive formation!"
With that order, five of the nine troopers form a line using some sort of shields, while the other four (the leader, the batgirl, Micah and another) stand behind them and prepare their weapons.
"How fast?"
"Fast, 360 meters, 355, 350, 345."
"Wolfs?"
"No, too big, Grimm."
Pink lowers herself to the ground and puts a hand over it.
"Either big Beowolfs or small Ursas, 320, 315."
They are too far from the Fort or the nearby town, and they can't outrun whatever is coming.
"Mines and spikes!"
Fortunately for them, they reached a small clearing, big enough for them to move freely. Two in the offensive position throw two explosive mines at 6 meters in front of them, while the people in defensive position take out some metallic spikes from their backs and stick them into the ground.
"Wait for my signal."
"205, 200, 190."
Not all of the troopers here are battle hard, some are still novice in the mater of battle, and it shows. Their legs are shaking and their breaths get faster by the second.
"Remain calm, remember, we have trained for this."
"165, 160, 15- What in the-!?"
"What now?!"
"New hostile, at our 4, coming in hot! 210, 190, 180, 165!"
WHAT?!
Only Goliaths or Ursa majors move that fast.
"Offensive position Delta! Bait and switch!"
They change their formation; everyone has their weapons ready, four face the enemy pack, while the other four face the new threat, with Pink staying in the center.
"Both attackers are in almost perfect sync now, 100, 90, 80."
"At your mark Sargent."
"40, 30, 20, 10, now!"
As the attackers enter the frame, the soldiers jump to the sides and start shooting. Offensive position Delta is a simple but effective plan, using themselves as bait, they attract both enemies and make them crash against each other, while they avoid the crash and start their own attack.
However, this plan was made with Grimm in mind, not what came out of the forest and cut off the heads of two of the three Ursas who dared to interfere with it and its prey.
"Oh dear Oum."
And with that, the land was filled with gunfire, explosions and screams.
Something feels odd.
His current situation is very odd, although, he wasn't referring to his feelings nor his thoughts, rater, he was referring to his physical condition.
Walking thru the forest with my new 'companion', I realized my body was feeling ... ill? No, that's not it. I do have a lot of injuries, the pain hasn't left my body, and I'm still having a big headache (I'm really trying not throw up again) however, this sensation is more strange than painful. I can't put a finger on it, I just know something is wrong.
Turning around to see his partner, he also notices something odd about him.
(Perception check: Pass)
Did he get paler?
His skin is still very tanned, but it became a lighter shade. He also lost his hat (somewhere during the fighting) and now the wanderer is able to see his face completely. He has black eyes, a cut in one of his eyebrows, and a nasty scar on his forehead.
"I don't mind the staring, but how long do you think we'll walk until we find something?"
He turns his eyes forwards.
"If we are still near Rojo, then we should find one of the many pathways that the caravans use not far from here."
They are heading south, the second closest settlement was south of Rojo, an old ruined town called Amarillo, not a lot of people live there anymore (or so I've heard), almost everybody left for Rojo and the only people who live there are ghouls who want to be left alone and in peace (basically Texas's Underworld).
The first closest settlement was a small Fort of the Legion. Yes, they are slavers, but since they have a treaty with a lot of cities and towns in Texas, anybody with a paper permit from said settlements (like Rojo) can safely enter their territory, and I did acquire one during my stay.
However, my partner didn't want to go anywhere near the Legion (I made a mental note about that), and instead of arguing, we agreed to head for Amarillo.
Of course, this plan only works if we ARE still near Rojo, and the more we walk the more this becomes unlikely. The explosion of, well, really anything, won't create such an organize and lifeful ecosystem. Lifeful? Maybe (considering the GOAC's capabilities) but organize? No.
We still don't know what the GOAC did, and in almost any other case we would just walk for hours to no end, luckily for us, we are also walking downhill. If you are lost in hilly terrain, your best choice is almost always to travel downhill. People tend to settle in valleys, usually close to water, and traveling downhill helps you cover more terrain and conserve energy.
*Bleeeuuurrrggghh!*
It seems I wasn't the only one feeling ill, as Julius vomits on the ground, next to a tree.
"Man, a bullet to the head feels better than this shit."
Ignoring that last comment, the Vault Dweller takes some Orange Mentats to help with his head.
(Perception +5)
"Here." He also offers some to Julius.
"Mmmh? Oh, don't worry I have my own, thanks tho."
They keep walking (almost waddling) thru the land, the silence only gets broken once in a while by the birds or by them trying not to puke. After all, just because they won't kill each other, doesn't mean they are now comrades.
"Soooooooo, Snake? Where are you from?"
Julius tries to break the silence, but I don't respond right away. I didn't mind the silence, I actually prefer it, but I don't want to be rude.
"The East."
That definitely sounded rude, didn't it?
The merc also doesn't respond immediately. He's probably waiting for more.
"Cool, not the answer I was looking for, but that's alright … do you have any jokes to tell?"
"… Not particularly, no."
We returned to the quiet walk that had become a bit more awkward.
"Listen, buddy, I'm not trying to get any information out of you, if that's what you're concerned about. I just want to talk, we've been walking around for a while and the scenery, although beautiful, becomes boring after the 789th tree."
Huh, so I'm not the only one counting them.
"It's not that."
At least, not entirely.
"I'm just, uhm, not much of a talker."
"Well, you'll never get any better at it if you don't try it, Snake."
"Don't call me that."
"Don't call you what?"
"Snake."
"Why?"
"I don't like it."
"Why no-? Oh, yeah, Blondie was bothering you with that name, wasn't he?"
"Correct."
"Sorry pal, I forgot. I thought it was just your nickname, you know, to go with the jacket and all."
The wanderer looks down on his jacket before responding.
"It was a gift."
"So, how do I call you then?"
Letting the birds filled the silence with their songs, the soldier thinks.
"Michael."
"That's not your name."
"Nor is it Julius your's."
*chuckle* "True, you got me there, but at least I'm not using a dead man's name."
He points at my neck, where Michael's dog tags are hanging.
"No, you just use their surname and clothes."
"Excuse me?"
"Your duster."
We stop moving, and he gives me a confused look.
"Those symbols and stripes on the left shoulder of your coat."
He looks at them.
"What about them?"
"It's an old military code the US army created to hide contrabands of food and ammo in enemy territories, spies wore them to symbolize their alliance. This one reads 'Mccarran', as in Julius Mccarran."
We stay in silence for a while, as he acknowledges the information.
"Huh, would you look at that, just my luck." He seems amused by the revelation. "Would you believe me if I told you that I came up with the name without knowing this?"
"That's highly unlikely." I turn forwards and continue walking.
"As I said, just my luck." He follows. "I took this old thing from a dead Gunner, didn't know anything about this secret code."
That doesn't make any it better.
"Whatever, I don't mind calling you Michael, it's just ..."
Don't fall for his trap.
"Just what?"
Why do I keep doing that?
"Well, names are important."
"Are they?" I retort. "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet."
"Oh! A poet, been a while since I meet one of your kind, but I'll admit I always had some problems with Wilson."
"It's William." I correct him. "And why's that?"
Why am I still talking? That's the question I should be making.
"Call a man king, and if he is stupid enough, he will believe it, call a poor girl my love, and if she is desperate enough, she will believe it, call a rose rotten, and one day it will stop smelling so sweet."
"I see I'm not the only poet here."
"My point is that your name is important, it matters and a lot. It's part of you, tells you who you are, and if some else comes around and changes it, well, you might change too."
"Sometimes, change is for the better. I'm pretty sure a slave would love to be called free, or an ill person healthy."
"Maybe, but the change should come from you, not the other way around. Tell me, what's more important, the name you gave yourself or the name others gave you?"
Interesting philosophy.
"The name you have earned."
"Earned?"
"If you give yourself a name you didn't do anything to deserve it, and the others don't know you, why should they tell you what you are?" we turn our heads to see each other. "The name you earned is the one that really tells you who you are, the things you have done, the only one that matters."
"And how do you know when you earned a name?"
"You'll know, everybody does."
He smiles a sincere, honest, but somewhat sad smile.
"You are rather philosophical for a soldier."
"And you for a mercenary."
"What can I say? Traveling thru the Wasteland does give you a lot of time to think, A, LOT, of time."
"Amen to that."
"And what's the name you have earned?"
I turn my head back.
"A rather silly one."
"Hehehe, I'll be the judge. It can't be sillier than mine."
Should I tell him? It's not like he can do much with that. Some people from the east coast know that name. I can try to see if he has any reaction to it (that way, I can see if he is from some place I have visited).
However, their conversation is cut short by the sound of their Pit-Boys yellow light.
As they unsheathe their weapons, an injured wolf comes fleeing out of some bushes and runs thru the woods. Blood covers its grey fur, cuts cover its legs, and pain covers its face. They point their guns, not at the wolf (it isn't a threat) but rather at what is behind the wolf.
Three big ... wolves? They look somewhat like wolves but not like the injured one they are chasing. They have black fur, a skull-like head, and bones emerging from different parts of their bodies. They seem to be responsible for the other wolf's injuries, however instead of finishing their prey, once they saw the duo, their attack shifted towards them.
The wastelanders quickly act, tho, and start firing their weapons. Bullets of 10 mm and 9 mm fly thru the air, some hitting their targets and doing some damage but not enough to stop them. As they reach their new opponents, the duo jumps to the sides.
One wolf gets over his two legs and tries to hit the Wanderer with his claws while a second wolf tries to take a bite out of him. The man evades the attacks; the first one by crouching and the second one by jumping to the side again. He keeps firing his sub-machine gun at the beasts' stomachs and anywhere else they lack any type of 'bone' protection.
Six as well evades their attacks, rolls on the ground and uses maria to try and get some headshots, he manages to hit two of them with two bullets each. Their bone armor is thick, tho, and the bullets don't penetrate the skull.
They are making damage (it shows on how their attackers' movements get slower) but it's not enough, yet. With maria out of ammo and Sydney's SMG with only 15 bullets left, both men change their tactics of hitting and running to a more 'personal' approach.
Six gets lower in just the right moment two stick a combat knife under one of the Grimm's arm and take out a magnum, and shoves it inside the animal's mouth, feeding it bullets.
Another tries to seize the opportunity and hit Six, however, this gives 101 enough time to draw his sword and block the blow. By activating the sword's electrical current, the Grimm recoils a few inches, and the soldier strikes its neck with enough force to cut its head off.
As the headless corpse falls to the ground, the last wolf jumps to avenge its kin, the wanderer prepares himself but two shots, courtesy of his partner, penetrate the animal's eyes, killing it.
The body hits the ground with a loud thud.
*Blerg*
And the first thing they do to celebrate is puke.
"Damn it *Blerg* I'm going to kill whoever throw that fucking pulse grenade."
That may have been in part my fault. *Blerg*
They continue to do this for a while.
(Quest update: Close Encounters of the Grimm Kind. Analyze and investigate the new creature you have encounter, search the bodies for clues (optional) [time remaining: 3:00 minutes.])
"Okey *panting* Think I'm better now *panting*"
Another wave of vomit climbs up my throat, but I'm able to control that last one and send it back to my stomach. I stay with my hands on my knees to breath and take a break.
"How are you doing, pal?"
The guy is like 3 or 4 feet to my left and still cleaning his belly. After he finished, he stays in the same position as me and gives me a thumbs up.
We stay like this for a couple of more seconds and then we get up on our feet.
"By the way, thanks for the assist."
"Likewise."
We turn our heads to see the nearest dead creature, the one my partner decapitated.
"What is that thing?" I ask. "Ever seen one before?"
Snak- sorry, Michael, Michael gets closer to the beast and kneels next to it.
"No."
I mimic his actions and kneel next to him. The body is cover with pitch-black fur (and some vomit that got splashed over it), and now I realize how big it is, almost surpassing the height of a regular human.
"It looks somewhat like a wolf crossed with a Yao Guai, mutation?"
"Possible."
He raises his sword and examines the blade.
(Perception check; Pass.)
"There's no blood." I said.
"And I didn't feel any bone inside the neck."
Moving to see the neck, I can confirm his analysis.
"You're right, no bone, but the fact that you discovered this by 'how it felt', tells me you decapitate too many people."
"... Only a couple."
"That doesn't make it any better."
He stares at me incredulous and amused.
Did I say something bad?
"I don't judge." I try to fix my error. "If I'm honest, I have done worse."
"All of us."
We go back to the beast.
"How do they walk if they don't have any bones?
"Maybe this is caused by their mutation."
[Time remaining: 0:00 minutes.])
We reach to touch the body, but as we get a hold of it and grasp it, it starts to disintegrate. And not only that one, but All of them do, they are brushed by the air like ashes until nothing remains.
We stay silenced not sure of how to react. However, my mind always has the best option ready.
"What the fuck just happened?"
jnautking: I'm not going anywhere, pal, thanks for follow my story.
ODSTFRymann: Thanks man, hope you like this new chapter.
Guest; I plan on continuing this, thanks for your review.
Really, thank you all! If you have any questions, sugestions, or anything else, pls, send me a review or a PM. See you later.