Greetings, adoring sports fans!
Last we met, I was at the Mojave Outpost of the NCR, taking a selfie with ED-E and the two giant statues. I am a 15 year old white girl who can't even.
Anyways; Nipton! Its where I'm told the assholes who shot me were headed towards! But I feel like exploring a bit! So lets leisurely stroll towards Nipton, taking our time. But before all that, let's have a quick sit-rep:
|Survey says: stll a total asshole. :/|
Well I guess that means I've room for improvement? Also I forgot I took some drugs back there one time to be strong enough to lug all that extra gear to the store and sell it. It's not habit-forming, I can quit any time, I swear!
|Ze plane boss; ze plane!|
Semi-submerged plane! NEAT! Less neat were the brood of nightstalkers around it; you can kinda see one there. Imagine a mangy coyote, with the head of a rattlesnake. And the tail of a rattlesnake. And the pack-hunting tactics of a coyote. In fact, stop imagining all that, toss all that stuff into a box, label it NIGHTMARE FUEL and chuck it into the nearest, deepest, steepest ravine you can find, thanks.
|Bringin' the heat; here comes the PEPPER.|
So after dealing with that pack of wild [REDACTED FOR VIEWERS' SANITY] I stumbled onto a jalapeno patch! Hells yeah gimme dem peppahz! I can use it in some survival recipes or whatever; still missing some ingredients, but hey! Always practical to have on you!
|A day at the races...|
Oh man, race track! Maybe I'll find a sweet tuned up pre-war car in pristine / near-pristine condition (as long as its not Christine-condition nah'mean) and I can just ZIP around the mojave in style, comfort, and... style again. Look, I might just mercilessly run people over too. Moving on. Say; what's that movement over there...
|...a night at the operaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!|
HOLY MOLY WHAAAAAAAAAT AAAAANTS NOOOOOOOOOOO NO NO NO WHY ARE ALL BETHESDA ABLE TO DO IN THE MONSTER DEPARTMENT IS FUCKING GIGANTIC BUGS. SKYRIM SPIDERS, FALLOUT SCORPIONS ANTS
WHY WHY WHY
|"HEY! You aren't immediately shooting at me, you must be a nice guy!"|
Uh hi there buddy; yeah I don't care. Sorry. Nope. Your girlfriend tried to kill you? Sucks bro. Married life, I tells ya. Newp. No. Nada. Wait what's that about star-caps?!
|*hand-wave* You will not regret this first of two Star Wars references *hand-wave*|
His gullibility is almost endearing. Almost.
But enough so that I don't murder him outright and take all his stuff too. Oh hey, convincing him to give me those star-caps got me a level! Level-get!
|♫ Makin' it raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaain! ♫|
This should keep me rolling in caps well into the later stages of the game, and possibly a good buffer to try and build up at the local casinos around and in Vegas. There's an achievement if you get tossed out of all the casinos, for breakin' the bank! Might try it; though that means learning Caravan. Maybe.
|"One burning pyre if by the east, two burning pyres if by the west."|
That's Nipton, but something's wrong; why are the Horde banners up infront of town. The hell is goin' on in Nipton!?
|OH. WELL GOOD FOR YOOOOOOOU.|
|"you sound like a choo-choo train."|
Boxcars, mah man! How's it goin'. Who the hell are you. What the hell happened in Nipton.
Grim Reaper!? How dare the--oh. Well Oliver Swanick and all the others, so yeah; OK. I have become unto Death or some shit. Whatever. I ain't got time for name-calling and nitpicking. Tell me what's been going on.
So Boxcars does! He's the 'lucky runner-up' in Nipton's lottery. Which seems to have been ran by Caesar's Legion. Oliver was the 1st place winner, so he was given his complete freedom. Boxcars here had, and I quote, "The fuck beat out of my legs with hammers, then left here to fuckin' die." Well then. 3rd place folk were quickly rounded up for slavery purposes, and then it just devolves into beheadings and torture and bleh.
|Boxcars mah man, you gots issues.|
So I shot him in the back of the head. Wait wait hear me out first. Wait.
Wait you're not listening.
I gave him 15 Med-X, and he had the indecency to not O.D. right then and there. So I killed him and took my Med-X back. I'm a big supporter of "Walk the Walk if you Talk the Talk." I'd feel bad, but powder-gangers rank lower than radscorpions on my list, so whatever. What's upstairs!?
|So beautiful; should've sent a poet!|
Feeding into my addictions once-more, game! My fridge at home looks like this, except I also have butter in there or something.
|Newest exercise-rage in the Wastes: Cross-fit. **LAME JOKE**|
Aww man. That shit's harsh; but accurate. I'm really beginning to begrudgingly respect sort of Caesar for his sticking to the Roman theme hardcore right now. I mean he's still a slave-state misogynist warlord and has to die, but I admire his dedication to the bit! Cosplayin' this shit like a CHAMP s'what I'm sayin'.
Anywho, up ahead is one of Caesar's cronies. Let's see what he wants...
|Legion of Super-Zeroes.|
|"I have a dog on my head; your argument is invalid."|
|So you cooked up a story so you could drop all these people in a meat-grinder.|
WELP. Only one thing to do then...
|FUCK CAESAR. FUCK SALAD.|
FUCK THE LEGION. Blam blam blam, take that take that, UNH still shootin! STILL SHOO--
|Current mood: bleeding out to death|
...oh. Well I won, at least. I'm gonna need to use like two of those doctors' bags to get out of this jam though. STILL don't know where my would-be-murderers went! I guess I'll just follow the road east out of Nipton, see where that leads me. Hold on, there's a house burning nearby...
|SW Joke #2: Skeletons are named Owen & Beru in-game.|
Oh my... *SAD HORN MUSIC*
WELP that's it for now! Come back next week for some of that ol' RAZZLE DAZZLE and a jaunty trip up I-95 to our next tourist destination: NOVAC!