//------------------------------// // Discord // Story: Connections // by Life_asylum //------------------------------// “40 caps.” “For a snow globe?! Twenty nine.” “35 and thats as low as im going!” “Fine.” the lone wanderer said with a hint of triumph in his voice. He quickly handed over a old washcloth that he fashioned into a bag with a bit of twine to to merchant. The merchant quickly untied the thin string and emptied the bag. “Seriously? Who just walks around with a exact 35 bottle caps in their bag...” the merchant muttered while staring the old whisky and sarsaparilla caps that tumbled out of the bag. “Those who plan ahead.” the wanderer offered concealing his surprise at the exact change. He loved the air of mystery responses like that formed, or in short he loved feeling like a bad- “Well be on your way.” the merchant sneered cutting of the wanderers thought. IF YA AIN'T BUYING THEN YA AIN'T STAYING was one of his favorite sayings. Normally he would then follow up by whipping out his shotgun and forcing the buyer out of his shop and into the wasteland. His smirk changed to a expression of contemplation as he thought about how many shots he’d fired at customers just to get them to leave. The wanderer swiped the snow globe of the old, wooden countertop. In truth he had no idea why he bought the snow globe, he just felt a strange need to collect them ever since he found one in the fountain of prim. He quickly shoved the globe in its respective place: somewhere. He was a slob and he knew it, his backpack was so full of crap that it weighed more than his armor did. “time to dump” he muttered. “There ain’t no bathroom in this place SO SCRAM” the merchant said, a annoyed edge to his voice. The wanderer took this as his one warning before he had to repair his armor again, AND BURY A BODY. He sighed, sometimes this work was just too much. He hated his job, after all he was the guy who was called upon when a group of bandits or a deathclaw attacked a village and to make matters worse he never had reinforcements if you don't count the time the NCR hired him to wipe out some ghouls. “I hate my job... i hate my job... I HATE MY JOB” he muttered darkly with increasing volume. “You and me both buddy.” said the merchant with a heavy shotgun in his hands. “However I wanna nap and you're the only thing standing in my way. so leave, or i'll blow your brains out.” The wanderer offered no response as he pivoted on one foot towards the door. As he walked his backpack seemed to get heavier and heavier. “Why do I have to loot EVERYTHING?!?” he growled as he stumbled out the door. --- After the wanderer put a few miles between himself and the psychopaths shop he began to boot up his pipboy* to look over his inventory and most likely discard the 9 sets or NCR armor he ‘found’. His visor flashed a blinding blue light, and as his vision returned he swore he could see WELCOME WINDOWS 7 please wait... Hello best friend! A cold metallic voice rang from his helmet. “Cut the chatter and show me my inventory” the wanderer demanded. You got it, best friend! Your current inventory is... 3 Raw rat meat 4 stimpacks 7 Rad-away 1 Dog brain 1 N.C.R assault rifle 2 mod. shotguns 47 shotgun shells 3 Assault rifle clips 5 Cans of baked beans 2 bottles of dirty water 27,098,937 bills of pre-war money ... The machine rambled on unaware of the wanderers twitching eye and slowly clenching fist. “Just how much does the pre-war money weigh?” the wanderer inquired cutting off his A.I. He had already guessed the answer to be heavier than all the guns, ammo and armor he already had COMBINED. The machine paused, calculating the exact weight of the 27 million dollars he was carrying. Exactly 345.7865 pounds best friend! “And how many caps do you think i could sell it for?” he snapped. Another pause. Around 2.72321 caps, depending on the vend0r. by the way why do you have a dog brain in your... left shoe. “Someone wanted it to save their dogs life, so i found a old lady who had around 4 dogs; paid her and all I know is I heard a bang and weird sucking noises and voila a perfect dog brain”. His suit paused trying to compute what it just heard but couldn't manage to speak more than: wha... how... why... ಠ_ಠ “now dump the pre-war crap” Whyyyy? His suit whined. The wanderer transfixed the visor of his suit with a hard glare in hopes that the mechanized voice could decipher it. “Because it all became obsolete the second the bombs fell”. But look it has funny pictures on it... in god we trust, i wonder what that means. “I.DON'T.CARE.” the wanderer deadpanned, obviously fed up with the entire exchange. ‘Best friend’ huh if she... he... IT was my best friend they'd dump the worthless paper and let me walk again. He fumed, glad that the A.I wasn't able to read his thoughts, YET. I'll only drop the pretty paper if you eat the dog brain. “What!?!” the wanderer screeched outraged. “You are my suit so you will do whatever I tell you to” he hollered to the suit. But look, it has a picture of a old guy with a monocle, a monocle. His suit reasoned, but the wanderer was having none of it. “Just drop the worthless paper... or I'll never repair you again...” the wanderer said with a frightening calmness to his voice. No. “Activate self destruct”. No. The wanderer quickly unstrapped a grenade from his vest, pulled the pin and threw it on the ground next to his feet. He knew the blast would only throw him back and dent his armor in several places but he was willing to take that chance to get the mechanized voice in his head to leave him alone. Fine, fine fine. I'll dump the pre-war money “Too late” the wanderer smirked, he just wanted to get the voice under control; in truth he could stop the grenade whenever he wanted, all it took was a tap on his pipboy. NO... NO NO NONONONO! the voice shouted before it was abruptly cut off by a large... BOOM The wanderer was rocketed off his feet and sent flying several yards before he crashed into a stone statue of sorts. The statue had the body of what appeared to be a griffon with a lion's paw on its left hand. Its head represented that of a goats with a horn next to an... antler? It was stuck in a singing position on a heavy stone column engraved with the words: The wanderer simply stood up, brushed himself off and set to work admiring the statue. Several cracks ran their way down the face of the statute to the base. Intrigued the wanderer stepped closer and placed his hand on the art. It abruptly started to glow, startling the wanderer and sending him back with a jump and several cusses. Booting up... inventory: online Radar: online Satellite: online A.I program: online health: 100/100 perfect condition Retiring to A.I program... “How? I blew myself up! The A.I should've been down until i repaired it?!” hia best friend! Don't worry, i forgive you for blowing me up! “Go... away...” But look i'm being good now! I’ll even get rid of the pretty moneys. Then in a sound that very closely represents taking a dump, huge piles of green paper started flying out of his suit and blinding him. “Just, GO” the wanderer said with more force to his voice than necessary. He didn't realize however that the statue was glowing with every word of the exchange until a ear splitting crack ruptured the argument. “Well now, thanks and all that but I have chaos to wreak” said a disembodied voice. “However I guess I should reward you somehow...” Both the wanderer and his A.I program were on their guard. The A.I trying to detect the person/creature but coming up with no results, and the wanderer sneaking his hand towards his pistol, ready to fight at the moment's notice. I can't detect him best friend. his A.I whispered, obviously concerned for the wanderers life. Its like he doesn't exist... “AHHH I GOT IT!” the voice exclaimed. “I hope your ready for a ride...” And with that the wanderer blacked out. --- When the wanderer woke the first thing he noticed was the distinct lack of the wasteland. He quickly sat up but immediately regretted it. His head throbbed painfully forcing him back to the ground. I wouldn't do that just yet best friend. Your vitals are stable but you'll have a headache for a while... “You're not helping.” the wanderer replied gruffly. He took a moment to observe his surroundings. A blue sky... grass... trees... did that thing send me to the oasis? Clenching his teeth the wanderer stood up leaving a heavily pressed grass anangle. The grounds soft? Thats not normal. All of the sudden he heard a branch crack to his left followed by the crushing of dead leaves in a pattern to quick to be footsteps. He suddenly became aware of the chirping of birds, clean wind and the damnable noise of several bugs clicking and hissing. A forest? how did I get here? Am I even in the wasteland anymore?! The wanderer began to panic. Sweating heavily he broke into action. He reached for his pistol, his eyes focused in the direction of the noise. A dead tree blocked his ability to see the source. Steps soon came from the other direction almost running at the wanderer. The wanderer swung around to meet his new foe. Hang on best friend, i'll check the satellites to verify what type of a enemy it is! The wanderer wasted no time in replying but instead charged towards where he heard the second set of steps. He burst through a large clump of bushes only to see. A tiny tan horse with a bow in its red mane?! Oh god, i'm just as crazy as half the other people in the wasteland. The horse snapped its head in the direction of the wanderer and stared at him with giant eyes before running off whinnying and clicking. TO BE CONTINUED