“…So we hope this guide has helped you learn about the trials and tribulations of post-apocalyptia so that you may better prepare yourself. Good luck out there! You’re going to need it,” Pinkie read out loud as she concluded the book. With her reading done, she closed the book with a thud and looked into the fire, contemplating all of what she had read.
“Finished already?” Jacks inquired through a mouthful of cooked bramin.
“…Yea.” Pinkie continued looking into the fire thoughtfully. Jacks’ chewing slowed as he steadily began to grow concerned about the pink pony’s silent, unwavering gaze into the fire.
He swallowed audibly and set his plate down. “Of course, it isn’t entirely accurate for this region. We are on the other side of the continent, after all.” He continued, trying to break the silence. However, Pinkie continued to sit there.
“Uh… you want something to eat? One of your pies, mayhaps?” More silence.
At last Jacks rolled his eyes and refused to partake in the suspenseful scene. He pulled over the bag of goodies and began rummaging through it for something particularly sweet. As he did so, he still couldn’t help but marvel at how all the foods were not ruined by being piled in a sack haphazardly without any protection. Then again, he had seen plenty of stranger things in his days, so he didn’t really think about the principles behind it as long as the food remained edible.
As he came across a crème pie, an idea sparked to life. He pulled the pie out and looked at it in the fire’s red glow as a deviant grin crept onto his face.
“Oh Pinkie…”
The pony turned to him, her expressionless face unwavering. Without warning, her face found itself buried deep inside the crème pie that Jacks had thrown at her. The pie tin fell away with a clatter after a second of being held in place by the pie’s gooey contents. Jacks burst out laughing at the crème-covered pony, causing him to lose his balance and fall backwards off the log he was sitting on.
“Crème pie to the face,” Pinkie began. Jacks watched through teary eyes as her tongue popped out of the thick layer of crème and scooped it all up before pulling it all in the pony’s maw. Now cleared, pinkie’s face was revealed to be beaming with happiness. “Classic!”
There was a brief pause that Jacks’ mind used to try and work around how a tongue could do such a thing, but the thought was brushed aside as the two of them burst out in hearty laughter. Eventually, Pinkie wiped a tear from her eye as she tried to quell her laughing.
“So, this place doesn’t seem too bad. Yea, the last civilizations destroyed it all and left you people to live of the irradiated ruins, but I’ve seen worse. Besides, I’ve got you and Eddy to help look out for me!”
“Yea.” Jacks’ smile vanished as something she said struck him. “…Wait, what was that about seeing worst-”
“SO, now that I know enough about the wastelands, assuming you’ll teach me more as we go, there’s only one more thing I’d like to know for now.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“I’d like to know more about the badass friend that I’ll be spending the next who-knows-how-long with!” Jacks blinked, not sure of who she was referring to for a moment before it hit him like a super-sledge.
“Oh… OH! You mean me!” Pinkie nodded with a giggle. “Ok, yea, I can tell you about myself some.” He cleared his throat in preparation.
“Starting from what little I can remember of my childhood, I know that my mother was a drug addict. In fact, I don’t doubt that she was taking many drugs even as I was being conceived. Of course, I can only guess this, but if it’s true then it does account for some things. For one, I’m not the most intelligent of people and are, for less of a better word, a wee bit crazy. Not insane, mind you, just crazy. Of course, recent developments have only further added to my already nutty mind, but I’ll get to that in a bit.
“Another thing I can assume from mother’s drug-taking during my creation is that they were not only inserted into her system, but mine as well. So much so in fact, that some of the effects seem to have permanently worn off on me. I can’t help but thank her for taking so much Steady, cause it’s a tremendous help with shooting; especially sniping.
“Hell, I could shoot the dick off a Legionary from over a mile away.” He paused to chuckle a bit. “Man that must have been painful. I could hear his screams even from where I was. Heh, bastard deserved it.
“Anyhow… Like I said, I was born with some of the effects, both good and bad, from her excessive drug use. Though, as you might imagine, the whole ordeal was a might too much for her, and she ended up dying not long afterwards. And considering my 'father' was just another one night stand, i havent the slightest clue as to who he even is, nor do i care. Thus, I was practically left to raise myself, which I actually did a fair job doing, considering all the shit I got from other kids and the other townspeople who apparently despised my mother.
“I must admit, it was pretty tough life until I found the good book and learned to overcome such hateful insults and violence. Heh, I know what you’re thinking. ‘YOU? A Christian?!’ Yea well, I’m no saint, and I know that I’ve done bad things in my time, but I live happily knowing that the good Lord watches over me.” Jacks paused a moment to lower his head respectfully. “The lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.”
“…Getting back to my story, I eventually became known around town as the local errand boy, so I got into delivering things for a pretty cheap price. I enjoyed the job and as I grew, so did my jobs. Eventually, I became a professional courier.
“I remember those years. I went from the accident of the local druggy, to the friendly face that helped out where need be. Of course, many people still resented me, but I didn’t like them any less for it. Then, that job…” His lips scrunched up as a tear began to gather in his eye. By now he wasn’t really looking at anything, but was instead lost in his memories. The tear streamed down his cheek as he continued to stare into space.
“…All those people. The city I grew to love, despite never receiving any… Gone. Up in smoke. The closest thing to what could have been a damn good society, and I single handedly destroyed it.” Jacks snapped out of the trance he was in and wiped his eyes.
“No. It wasn’t my fault. How was I supposed to know…” He looked up to see Pinkie staring at him with saddened curiosity. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but he held up a hand to stop her.
“No. It’s… It’s in the past. It’s not important anymore. Sorry about that.” Jacks tilted his head up and took a deep breath, burying the painful memories deep within the recesses of his mind once more.
“Getting back to the subject… My most recent job was to deliver a special chip to the Lucky 38 in New Vegas. It seemed simple enough, though I was proven very wrong not soon afterwards. I was captured near Goodsprings by a man named Benny. After taking the chip from me, he proceeded to shoot me in the head. Twice. And then bury me.” Jacks couldn’t help but grin at Pinkie’s dumbstruck expression.
“Let me say, it wasn’t my fondest of memories. However, thanks to the medical expertise of Doc Mitchell, I survived the (what was meant to be) the two fatal bullets to the brain. Don’t believe me? Here, I’ll show you.” He took off his hat and leaned his head forward.
All the hair on the right side of his head had been shaven clean off, leaving a massive U-shaped scar carved into his head. “And I’ll tell ya’, if I didn’t already believe God performed Miracles, then I certainly would after that.”
“Anyhow, after the doc gave me his Pip-boy as a gift and said I was clear to leave, I headed off to find Benny. Not to extract my revenge, per say, but he does have the chip and I do have a job to complete. Besides, the past couple of months since then have been one hell of an interesting time, starting with my finding of ED-E.
“To think, in just a few months I’ve been able to befriend numerous ‘tribes’ or societies, and/or eradicate others that have wreaked murderous chaos upon, quote-unquote, ‘innocent’ wastelanders. Not only that, but all the rewards and/or loot I’ve retrieved in that time has made me a rather wealthy man.
“Thanks to said wealth, I was able to have this customized for me,” Jacks continued as he stood up and held his arms out, letting Pinkie get a good look at his armor. “It’s a customized desert ranger’s combat armor. The armor plates have been refitted to it from a suit of T-51 power armor, and there’s a good amount of Kevlar sewn into the cape-thing here. Basically it’s impervious to just about anything when it’s in prime condition.
“On top of all that, I’ve got a secret hidden beneath the cape. Behold… My private arsenal of doom!” Jacks gripped the edges of his cape and whipped it open in a similar fashion to how a flasher would.
The inside of his cape was lined with countless devices and small pouches or bags, all of which were organized relatively neatly in rows of fives around three guns. The variety of items included magazines, pouches filled to the brim with bullets, grenades, mines, and many other items.
“We’ve got the All-American,” he said, motioning towards the camouflaged, pre-war marksmen carbine under he left arm. “The Rat-Slayer,” which was a silenced and scoped varmint rifle that hung beside the All-American. Five ammo magazines for each of the guns rested in a vertical row of pouches next to their respective weapon, and a bulging pouch beneath each row of magazines contained more bullets to refill the magazines when they were depleted.
“And to my right is my trusty combat-shotgun, for when you wanna have a blast.” Five round mags hung beside the shotgun, as well as ten magazines for the Anti-material rifle.
“I keep twice as many material rifle mags because they only hold eight rounds per mag, which is considerably less than any of the others. Which brings me to my pride and joy…” He pulled the Anti-Material rifle off his back.
“You’ve already met her, but you have not yet been properly introduced. Pinkie, this is Sasha.” He waited a moment to let the pony look over the massive rifle and the red trimming that was painted across it by hand.
“…She fires .50 caliber rounds with enough force to shoot straight through an engine block. She’s a sniper’s best friend, and an enemy’s worst nightmare. She has never let me down in all the years that I’ve had her, and I couldnt love her more for it.”
“Aside from all that, I’ve got a couple of pretty reliable pistols in case the big guns run out in mid-battle,” He said, holstering Sasha and pulling his cape back to reveal a trio of pistols hanging from the belt around his waist.
“That’s my .44 scoped Magnum, and these two beauties,” he grabbed the two 10mm pistol on either side of his waist. “I like to call Love and Hate. They may not be as powerful as other pistols, but that doesn’t make them any less effective if you know how to use them right.”
He holstered the two pistols and looked down to Pinkie. “And that about sums up the tour, I’d imagine. I could go on about all the things that have happened to me in my time here in the Mojave, but it’s getting late, and I literally haven’t gotten any sleep in a week. Come on, lets go inside and try to get some sleep, shall we?”
Pinkie nodded before jumping up into his arms and curling up into a fuzzy pink ball. Jacks chuckled at her and turned to go inside the house. As he neared what was left of the door he turned to ED-E. “You coming in, or keeping an eye out for trouble?”
“--I’ll stand guard. You said it yourself, you need the rest.--“
Jacks smiled nodded towards the bot. “Thanks ED-E. See you in the morning then?”
“--If we aren’t ravaged by raiders or wild animals in the night, yes.--“