The Chosen One leveraged his leg against the lower jaw of a Wanamingo, pushing down on the beast while both his hands were wedged between the sharp teeth. He grunted, feeling his muscles burn as his hand slowly tore the Wanamingo's maw open, showing a satisfied smirk at the sound of flesh ripping as the monster's arms whipped against his in retaliation, Salem had destroyed a nest of these things when they were traveling through the continent, but the Chosen One couldn't let that witch do everything forever, because deep down, he's still a proud Arroyo tribal warrior at heart. In a feat of strength, the Chosen One dislocated the Wanamingo's jaw before pushing upwards explosively, tearing the upper half of the beast's head of as it begins to crumble into dust.
Salem clapped halfheartedly from the sidelines, "How impressive," she said in a flat tone, sarcasm rolling off of every word, the Chosen One grimaced a bit at that, "Finally pulling your weight around, have you?" She scoffed, "Should I be congratulating you?"
Salem's getting more and more antsy by the second, the Chosen One attributed this to the fact that they'll be earning their rightful rest soon, seeing as he's a bit nervous himself. The one thing that's been keeping them sane for all this time, finally within grasp, it almost makes all the pain worth it, "We're almost there," the Chosen One breathed, smiling, "Then you'll never have to see me again." He chuckled, Salem just made a face before walking away, he followed.
All this walking made him think about everything he's seen so far, the average wasteland creatures that he was used to have now been changed, twisted into horrific shadowy abominations. It especially hurt when he saw that even the humble Brahmin was affected as well. Salem had gawked at the sight of the two-headed cattle, but the Chosen One just looked at it with pain in his heart, it reminded him of the livestock that he'd seen in New Reno and all the ranches that he passed by during his trip to San Francisco, oh how he missed his old Highwayman, though considering how his pockets are empty of microfusion cells, he supposed it wouldn't be much use here anyways.
"This trip would be much faster with a car." he once said out loud, causing Salem to look at him weirdly.
"What are you talking about? What's a car?"
"It's a- uh, well, never mind that."
They kept walking, knowing full well that these inane conversations wouldn't mean anything in the future, since they both will be gone as well, hopefully. The continent was barren, a flat landscape with barely any hills or mounds to spice up the environment, only jagged rocks jutting out of the gray ash and dust beneath their feet. Small localized groups of Grimm can be seen mulling about the area, monsters of all different shapes and sizes. Wanamingo hordes speeding through the area with ease, kicking up a dust storm behind them as they travel. Wolves with elongated proportions hunt in packs, never eating whatever prey they took down. The Chosen One felt a chill go down his back when he saw it, the bane of his existence back in California.
A Deathclaw tearing open another creature, which seemed to resemble a human torso grafted onto a Brahmin's lower body, though with longer legs and strangely placed knee joints. "I recognize the Nuckelavee," Salem said, crouching next to him as they watch the Deathclaw lashing out at the other creatures, "But I don't know that one." She pointed at it as it roared.
"Deathclaw, they used to be lizards," his instincts were shouting at him to either turn back or find another way around, but that'd mean a couple more days of detour, and he doesn't think Salem would like anymore delays, "Powerful creatures, most attacks wouldn't even scratch them, though they're not very smart," he held back a snort when the thought of Goris flashed through his mind, "The only soft spot or weakness they have would be either their head or stomach, I used to kill some myself, though it wasn't an easy fight."
"Sounds about right," the Chosen One sighed, it was pretty tiring being put down by Salem every word he said, but considering how she's the one with the magic, it made sense, kind of, "Anything else before I obliterate this thing?"
"Nope, considering your magic? Go ahead."
She grinned – well, it came out more like a sinister smirk – before drawing magic to her had, "I'll kill this thing with one hand behind my back," always the narcissist, this Salem, "Watch and learn." A wave of pure magic shot out of her palm, decimating everything within a radius of it as it shot towards the Deathclaw. When it did, the resulting explosion shook the ground they were standing on, Salem smirked smugly, turning to the Chosen One as if to show him who the superior one was in this little arrangement that they have on this journey, he sighed, as if he needed anymore reminders of his – considerably – weaker powers compared to her.
"Let's just keep moving, we're almost there anyways-" he was cut off when he heard the roar, Salem froze too, quickly glancing back towards the large dust cloud covering up what was supposed to be a very much dead Deathclaw. But it wasn't dead obviously, the Chosen One couldn't even afford to look smug in front of Salem when he knows that that monster's now aware of their presence. The Deathclaw dove out from the dust cloud, charging at the two of them with impressive speed, "Wonderful." If there's any consolation though, the monster does look damaged after the blast, mainly the arms of the creature, which looked burnt.
"It covered up its weak spot with its arms," the Chosen One said in horror, so the Deathclaw had some primitive intelligence within it, primitive or not, it's still intelligence, and a smart Deathclaw is something that would make even the toughest of wastelanders scared. Salem shot another blast at it, this one weaker since she doesn't have the time to charge it up, and to their great horror, it swatted the blast away with the back of its hand.
Immortal or not, the Chosen One does not like the thought of being ripped apart for eternity.
Unfortunately, Salem seemed to have other plans. Immediately kicking him towards the raging Deathclaw before taking a few steps back. The Deathclaw quickly tore into him with its claws, shredding him into crushed meat before shoveling the flesh into its mouth, it hurt, obviously. The Deathclaw wiped its mouth, spitting out some bones before roaring at Salem, but she doesn't seem as scared as she was previously.
The Deathclaw halted in its tracks when a hand bursts out from within its stomach, the Chosen One slipped another hand through the hole before tearing the lining open, forcing himself out of the Deathclaw while it writhed in pain. He wondered a bit about that, whether or not these Grimm felt pain, seeing as how they're hollow inside both literally and metaphorically. Considering all the evidence presented so far, the real answer is still pretty up in the air. Salem quickly shot a wave of magic at it, the beam tearing through the soft stomach, both penetrating the Deathclaw and disintegrating the Chosen One at the same time.
He quickly reformed of course, can't stay dead forever no matter how hard he tried. No matter how hard Salem tried too. And it went the same way for her too. "They move in packs," he sighed, seeing a few Deathclaws wandering around in the distance, though they're far away enough that it's a challenge to see them, "We have to get moving, quickly."
Salem threw some clothes his way, conjured up by her magic, "We need to find a way to stop you from stripping naked every time we fight," she scoffed, "At least have the decency to die modestly."
"At least you can actually conjure something other than rags this time," the Chosen One slipped on the undergarments, "You wouldn't have gotten to this point without me," he smirked, "Experience is experience, no two way around it."
"Keep talking like that and I'll reduce you to nothing."
"Please do, and when you're sure that I'm gone, do it to yourself too."
Ozma was roused from his fantasy again, a familiar presence filled his senses, same but different. The scene he had constructed in his mind stopped yet again, as a being of pure light descended from above. The God of Light stood before him this time, "Ozma, there is a complication that needs fixing," straight to the point, unlike the God of Darkness, this Brother God was much more straightforward, "I'm sure my Brother have spoke to you before, without my knowledge of course."
The God gave an exhausted sigh, "I try my best to maintain the balance created by both myself and my Brother, and while he's doing an excellent job at keeping the world stable, he's been testing my patience one too many times."
"Is this about the relics?" Ozma asked hesitantly, eyes momentarily glancing at his family, make-pretend as they may be, it felt real to him, "The God of Darkness told me about them, as well as a prior set made by him, though I don't know if that fact is true or not."
"Ah, the relics, yes, I fixed them," the God of Light landed on his feet, his hand raising to his face as he rubbed his forehead in exasperation, normally the Brother Gods were so much more dignified—Light much more than Darkness obviously – but Ozma have never seen them seem so human when speaking to him, "You could restore them to their previous state, provided you know how that is."
"I have no intentions of doing so."
"You might not, but someone else might," the God then conjured up a window to the real, outside world. His eyes widened, Salem, is she still alive after all this time? "Millennia have passed, thousands of years have gone by, yet Salem still walks the earth."
Ozma swallowed a lump in his through, he hesitated, "The God of Darkness, earlier, he said something about an outsider," he turned to the God of Light, "Is Salem traveling with someone else? A man, dressed in tribal garments?"
"Indeed, and he too is a mystery," the window expanded, now encompassing the two entirely, Ozma watched as the two—Salem and the strange tribal warrior – walk towards an unknown destination, "Salem's condition was a punishment from us, the tribal was an accident on our part."
"An accident?"
"My Brother's incompetency no doubt," Ozma just watched the scene, "What you're seeing now is the present, they've embarked on a journey across the planet, their destination being what they assume to be their deaths."
"I see., Ozma found himself clenching his fist subconsciously, he has still yet to understand where he truly was, or if he's truly dead. Seeing as how he still had his sapience, though confined to what seems to be the confines of his own mind. He tried every possible way to either escape or to know more about this pocket that he's in, and after exhausting ever option, he simply stopped, "Why are you showing me this?" Something about knowing that his wife was seeking her own destruction did not sit well with him.
"When human society reforms, I'll bestow upon you a divine task," Ozma tilts his head questioningly, "I will resurrect your soul, transplant it into a human body, and grant you immortality."
"But I do not wish to be brought back," Ozma furrowed his brows, "Nor do I wish to be confined in this mind prison, I thought that death would be oblivion, that my consciousness would simply cease to be."
"I can't convince Salem that she should just let go now, but I can try to convince you that I have served my purpose in life," He turned to the God of Light with a resolute look on his face, "I've done everything that was needed to be done, I'm nobody special, I wish to live one life and one life only, no more."
"You say as if you have a choice in the matter," the God of Light coldly replied, "Your immortality won't be like Salem's, think of it as a cycle of rebirth."
"But-" "Silence," the God interjected, stopping Ozma dead in his tracks, "Have you not considered that by me giving you this second chance, that it'd be your second chance to explain things to Salem?"
"How long would it be until that point?! How long would it take for humanity to reform into society again? How do I know that Salem would still listen to reason? My reason? Or that she knows that its me?! Or that she even remembers who I am?!"
"You underestimate the obsession your wife has towards you," the God closed the window, returning Ozma to his mind space, "When that day comes I'll give you your task, in the mean time, think about your decisions."
The God began to float, "I will return." he said, before flashing out of his view.
Ozma's scene resumed, a nice family moment conjured up by his own mind. He sat back, trying to enjoy the fabricated reality, but the thought of everything will never leave his mind. He sighed, something to mull about for the next million years or so.
I'll be honest, I enjoy writing The Jingle Jangle a lot more than this.
Mostly because the Courier is such an interesting character to write, not to say that the Chosen One isn't but the Courier's backstory (or lack thereof) is great for either roleplaying or character creating.
I think that's something that New Vegas does well compared to the other fallouts, which is character creation. The Courier virtually has no backstory (before Lonesome Road that is, but even then there's dialogue for you to completely deny Ulysses' claims), allowing the player to make up whatever story they want to fill in the blanks.
The Chosen One on the other hand, has the whole Tribal aspect that I have to keep in mind about. They also have an established backstory in Arroyo and their canonical retirement in New Arroyo after the events of Fallout 2. I can't really explain it, I guess I can have the Courier say complete bullshit without making it seem out of character (well, my character anyways).
Unlike 1, 3, or 4, I'm not stuck with writing about another Vault Dweller story, especially not 3, I did not like how young the Lone Wanderer was when they were off doing things.
I (personally) like it when a Fallout character is either a Wasteland native (like the Courier) or someone OTHER than a Vault Dweller (like the Chosen One). Mostly because they don't have the same knowledge that people in the modern day would have, like the Courier not knowing what a fish is but is perfectly fine with giant irradiate mutant lizards.
Anyways, that's enough from me. Thanks for reading!