[ I’m goin’ back home

                                                to the west coast]

Indie Fallout character. Amnesiac Courier 2 former Lone Wander. Multi ships/verses.

{ Follows back from CupcakesMuses / penned by Lara }

Rules | About | Helpful Links | Verses | Other Muses | Thread Tracker

rescue mission ... new vegas rp

It wasn’t anyone’s fault. A well placed grenade could easily take out and entire structure. Especially those as rickety as the ones in this neighborhood. And West had been careless and over excited. He’d gotten the elevator working and made out with a shit load of goods from the storage basements down stairs. He’d spent the better part of the day sorting through it, lobbing it in the shopping cart he’d push back home later. And it wasn’t so goddamn hot today. There was a breeze and everything.

West felt the breeze again. So he knew he couldn’t be too deep. He had ventured to the second floor again when he heard the clink of metal against the tile floor. He hadn’t even heard the motherfuckers through the open half of that section of the department store. And they’d gotten the worst kind of jump on him. All he could think of was all his good shit would be gone. If he ever got out of here.

The breeze blew dust into his nose and mouth. He couldn’t see at all. His eyes and face felt wet. Another head wound maybe. Wouldn’t that be hilarious? Or maybe some piece of metal had just scooped out his eyes. A tinkerer and doctor that couldn’t see. Hilarious.

West coughed and the whole section shifted. He felt pain scream in his leg. He felt pressure against his head. And then he didn’t feel anything.

West had never planned on returning to the east coast. If anyone remembered him from DC, well, what a loss for them. Or not. He knew he hadn’t exactly been a good guy. He had made mistakes, bad ones. Genocidal ones. Even ten years or probably more, he wasn’t sure, and a case of recovering amnesia, wouldn’t change the horrible things he’d done.

It also didn’t change the good, or the fact that he was focusing on the bad memories he was gaining rather than the good ones. Things were beginning to feel familiar, though he couldn’t put a clear memory to it. He had made a life for himself in New Vegas, but now he returned before his robo-brain buddy had skipped town with little more than a terminal recording explaining he ‘needed to return to Boston and finish things’. Goddamnit, Betty.

So West was back east, trying to think of better things he had done. He could not remember sweeping the once longer hair from his face, hesitant in throwing a frag grenade into a small crowd of slavers. He did not remember befriending Eulogy Jones with the full intention of shooting him in the head once they were alone or the brainwashed girls who attacked each other and then Wesley after he had. He does not remember freeing the slaves, let alone any of their names or faces.

He also didn’t remember such terrible dust storms. Must have been a Boston thing. He was beginning to feel a little queasy because of it and as the grey oddly fanged mutt beside him whined and stumbled, West heard the click of the geiger counter on his Pip Boy. It was more than just dust. West looked around but saw nothing obviously radioactive. He knelt next to his pup and removed a small box from his bag, taking a pill himself and then shoving one, very carefully, down the dog’s throat. He gave the dog an extra good scratch behind the ears, then pulled a scarf from his bag, dumping the carrots from it and wrapped it around the lower half of his face. West picked up the dog, who was only a month or so away from no longer being a puppy. The grey pup buried his nose under West’s jacket collar.

The dust and faint green glow around them were making it hard to see and West’s eyes water. But there was a bridge ahead, sturdy looking enough. West held his dog tightly and rushed underneath it, burying his face in the dog’s fur, lifting his jacket a little to push more of the dog’s face under it.

"Don't wiggle, Artoo. I gotcha." He crouched down, relieved not to see any bloody ghouls laying out in his hiding spot. He took a shallow breath, hugging the pup close, burying the poor thing's face under his jacket. He was gonna toss his cookies if he wasn't careful and if this weird rad cloud hung around any longer. He had lost his memory before landing in the Sierra Madre, the memory of the Red Cloud was firmly lodged in his faulty mind. He tried to keep that stored away, not wanting to psych himself into a panic attack.

Watching “Elvis” finally and reading some of these old threads

Really feeling these New Vegas vibes again….

(I need a remaster or something man. Maybe finally start playing it on Steam)

I MISS IT

Reblog/Reply/Like for a New Vegas verse thread (and check out my verses cuz they’re game specific)

It’s party time for the guys in the tower of Babel                               Sodom meet Gomorrah, Cain meet Abel Have a ball y'all                       See the letches crawl                                   With the call girls under the table Watch them dig their graves                              `Cause Jesus don’t save the guys                In the tower of Babel

Non-selective, multi-ship, multi-verse....

Penned by Lara

Karma police                        

                   I’ve given all I can       

         It’s not enough                           

                            I’ve given all I can          

     But we’re still on the payroll

Non-selective, multi-verse, multi-ship

Penned by Lara

And all they say is you ain’t

                                  half the man he used to be

He had strength and he

                             worked his life to feed his family

So if that’s the way it has to be,

                                        I’ll say goodbye to you

I’m not the guy, or so it seems

                                    to fill my old man’s shoes

Non-selective, multi-verse, multi-ship

Penned by Lara

West is all out of jobs! He can do it all: mechanic, doctor, courier, book reader, scrounger, energy weapons expert, Paul Simon aficionado!

[Thread tracker] Is it your turn? Yes, it is. Or I’m not tracking our thread. I miss things sometimes. Let me know!

[RP memes] Wanna play but out of ideas?

[Open threads] Or want to reply to an idea of mine? Long hair icon means early Fallout 3 verses, so it’s ‘Wesley’ still and not ‘West’.

I love my goofball Lone Wanderer turned decoy Courier 2. I’m not selective and I know that sparking a conversation/plotting can be anxiety inducing. Please, sending me things. No reblog karma needed! Let’s write together!

Have some, won’t you?

“Whatever that is... that murder pile...”

Fallout 3 DLCs! Let’s plays and the like

So.... it’s been a long long time...

Writing about West going thru his ordeal with Point Lookout, I literally forgot that the Lone Wander’s WHOLE ASS BRAIN gets taken out in Old World Blues

I only played these DLCs once... and I have yet to beat Fallout 4.

Anyone got any good Fallout 3/NV playthrus I can watch since I don’t own a PS3 anymore to play them myself. (also going backwards in the graphics world now is a painful thing.)

I would be ever so grateful

"But he didn't have anything to do with that!"

“Oh, c’mon, you can’t seriously be angry!”

There could be fewer days ahead than gone,                             And all I’ve spent are long since on my way To learn that nothing comes for free,          But I’m not the man…                  I’m not the man…

I used to be.

“Wow... That really means a lot, man.... Thanks.”

“What’re you doing with your hands?!”

"And you can't even smell all the animal carcasses! Nice, huh?"

"I wasn't gonna follow through with it."