Unpleasant Awakening

Waking up with a horrible hangover is never fun. Waking up in the middle of the desert with familiar yet not flora around you, wearing old M81 BDUs, with an over-the-shoulder sling bag and dog tags makes it even more odd. Especially when you aren't a veteran, nor a larper... And you live in a normal suburb. 

"What the literal fuck are you kidding me?!" one unfortunate Jack Nelson found himself reciting the line from a certain video game. 

Understandably confused and uncomfortable (the sand is coarse and rough and it gets everywhere) he sat up instantly. His eyes were greeted with what looked like limitless emptiness, a slight wind blowing against the desolate sand. The sand and rock seemed ever expansive. Sky sullen and dark casting an eery foreboding glow. He hoped it wasn't a sign of things to come. 

"Onwards and upwards I always say..." he trailed off trying to cheer himself up. 

Standing up and trying fruitlessly to dust himself off he took stock. He found himself wearing a pristine set of woodland BDUs, fresh out of the factory like something a rein actor might pick up. Comfortable, laced black boots, a simple belt, and lastly the shoulder sling and its conspicuous pouch. 

He could immediately tell it wasn't empty, and not wanting to be out here any longer than necessary he opened it up. Pulling out what could only be a high-end recreation of the Pip Pad 3500... Only for those thoughts to be dashed as it turned on projecting a floating screen in front of his face. 

"Fuck.." he muttered under his breath eloquently forcing all the confusion and not mounting anxiety into a single word.

𝐈𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠... 𝐈𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭

...

.....

...

𝐈𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞

𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐣𝐚𝐯𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 1𝐱 𝐌81 𝐁𝐃𝐔 𝐬𝐞𝐭, 1𝐱 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐭, 1𝐱 𝐁𝐚𝐠 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 1𝐱 𝐏𝐢𝐩-𝐏𝐚𝐝 3500. 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐄𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐩𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐕𝐞𝐡𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐛. 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐚𝐛, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐲, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐚 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐥/𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐚𝐛. 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧/𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐢𝐩-𝐏𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐢𝐩-𝐏𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟.

As soon as he finished reading the message it disappeared leaving him with the impossibly floating screen, and a foreboding dread at the message.

"I'm in Fallout New Vegas... that or this is the most elaborate dream I've ever had..." he trailed off, tempted to hit himself for clarity, but knowing already the answer wouldn't change.

"System? Help menu? Anyone?" Each call left the same silent result and an even more shaken Jack. "They really just dropped me here.. wherever this is (please god don't let this actually be fallout) with a welcome message... and that's it.

"Are. You. Fucking. Kidding me!!" he screamed out before taking a deep breath, compartmentalizing and pushing aside the rapidly growing hysteria. Taking deep breaths and squeezing his eyes tight, knowing a breakdown in the middle of the desert would do him no good.

Wearily eyes resignedly moved to the display, seeing a point balance at the top right of the screen. Tentatively making his way to the store tab with a tap he was greeted with categories ranging from survival gear to light armored vehicles. With 500 points he looked through his options. Rifles, carbines, sub machine-guns, all were out of his budget range. Pistols however is where his search bore fruit. He had to blink for a moment, once again astounded by the selection. Page upon page upon page of every pistol make and model that had ever left the drawing board lined up in neat alphabetical order.

Looking through the filter options he narrowed it down to his budget, filtered out older and antique models (Which happened to be on the cheaper end of things as it turned out) then continued to narrow his options until he was left with a small selection of modern handgun platforms. Browsing through the modernized revolvers; full-sized, compact, and sub-compact offerings, making his way to the selection of single-stack handguns. His eye was caught by one weapon in particular; The Kimber Rapide. Tapping on it and immediately being met with options. Caliber, color, minor upgrades like a threaded barrel or mag extension, and most interesting of all the option of bundles.

When he looked through them he found one that looked suspiciously like it was made for him. A .45 ACP offering in the DUSK color configuration, three 8-round magazines, 24 rounds of 185-grain FTX, belt holster as well as two pistol belt pouches. Not trying to look a gift horse in the mouth and being rather familiar with the 1911 platform he made the purchase.

The screen immediately closed and he was left on the inventory tab of the pip pad. The soft almost sterile dark glow of the interface met his eyes in the early morning sun, the bundle being in one slot ready to be equipped. With a button press suddenly the handgun loaded with a topped-off mag on its holster and the other two full mags in their pouches appeared secured on his belt. Keeping his thoughts of the system and his circumstances in the back of his head he examined the rest of the functionality. Checking the map he found himself about 500 meters from good-springs, which was a sigh of relief from him. Except for the DATA tab being absent, the stark white and black display was exactly like the mod he'd often used.

Continuing to check base functions as they were in game, he navigated to the statistics tab.

𝐒.𝐏.𝐄.𝐂.𝐈.𝐀.𝐋.:

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡 5

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 6

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 4

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐦𝐚 7

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 4

𝐀𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 3

𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐤 7

"I thought you started with 40 points in FNV? Can't be Fo4 either since that starts at like 21... Maybe because I lived irl in a place with a decent education and lived there for 20 years? Still though... kinda stings that all those people were right that I'm all wit and little smarts," he mumbled quietly to himself as the sun began to warm his skin.

𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬:

𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 40

𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬 0

𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 0

𝐆𝐮𝐧𝐬 51

𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 5

𝐌𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐞 25

𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫 30

𝐒𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 40

𝐒𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐤 20

𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥 40

𝐔𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐝 15

"I don't really haggle much but I can generally get my way if nothing else through humor, seems laser pointers and video games don't count as far as energy and explosives. Spending most of my life learning to shoot checks out there, I guess opening the door when the lock caught with a screwdriver counts?" The rest he chalked up to a 21st-century education, the Boy Scouts, and a couple of tussles. Besides, what kid grows up and doesn't learn how to sneak a little bit? He over-analyzed and tried with partial success to distract himself with some humor.

Unfortunately, however, the perks screen was a complete write-off, nothing at all. Another thing he noticed is that curiously there was no level or XP bar present.

"Shit... I don't like how real this all is feeling. Lack of XP grounds it a bit but the magical floating interface still makes me question my sanity." Knowing little of value would come from mumbling to himself under the sharpening warmth of the sun."

Tabbing back to the global map section he experimentally tapped the Goodsprings icon on the map. Suddenly he got the innate sense of the direction it was without needing to reference the map or his surroundings, almost like a subconscious map waypoint. Though he couldn't immediately tell the accurate distance, only a vague feeling. Looking at the pip pad map was the only way to tell other than the thought of "close".

Dusting himself off fruitlessly in the endless sea of sun-bleached sediment he began to make his way. Following the subconscious nagging pull he felt tugging at the edges of his awareness he closed the pip pad and carefully tucked away what could be his only lifeline. Making slow time due to a justified amount of caution until a slight flicker of movement.

Immediately honing in on what he'd seen while slowly lowering himself to the ground. Quietly drawing the Kimber as he looked with a sharp gaze scrutinizing the barren dust and rock for any other indicators. Making a quick but quiet movement he brought the gun up to his line of sight, checking the chamber with a quick manipulation of the slide. Satisfied with the gun being loaded he gently manipulated the safety before crawling his way forward to a small incline covered with long dead brush. Reaching the spot and getting eyes on he had to suppress a sharp intake of breath. In front of him, about 15-20 meters was a lone gecko.

Hidden by a small dip in the sand, some underbrush, and weathered wood, he cautiously observed the creature. It was half the height of an adult man, standing there with a vacant look. The stupid thing just kinda stood there not doing much other than affirming to Jack that this was real.

Schooling his thoughts and pushing aside the growing horror for a later time he observed the surrounding area looking for any other unwanted company. Seeing none but knowing the thing was directly in the way of where he needed to go in an especially flat and empty section of sand he made his decision. Methodically lining up the handgun sights as if it were any other target shooting experience. His eyes hardened as everything slowed.

The light breeze that brought lazy clouds of dust along with it lost its movement; almost completely still. The only sound was his heartbeat. His eyes and senses became acutely aware of trajectories and probabilities. In the back of his mind, he reckoned it was vats. Unlike the in-game system though there was little limitation other than the imaginary AP since he could tell with the gun and his skills it would be a near 100% chance to hit its chest, and he felt he had fairly good odds of a head tap.

In an odd almost out-of-body-like experience he felt with a sense of detachment as that imaginary point presence lessened, felt but didn't really act out the actions as his hands stilled his breathing steadying as the fiber optic sights lined up on the abomination's forehead. His sense of control didn't return until the bullet had fired and the gecko's head made like a watermelon getting blown open.

With a subconscious thought like flicking a switch time sped back up as he felt the recoil being compensated by muscle memory. Quickly changing stance to a crouch he kept a sharp eye out, but the desert lay as still as it was, nothing but the sound of wind and the empty feeling of hollowness in the air. The empty space continued as it had been before his disturbance.

Quickly but carefully he made his way to the body, keeping constant vigilance knowing there could be any number of odd beasties lying in wait. Feeling assured he found himself standing over the carcass. Once he'd stilled and turned his focus to the body before him a similar holographic screen appeared in front of him. Identifying itself in bold font as the scrapping tab, it presented him with the option to auto-scrap and trade the materials from the gecko. Affirming with a thought the body disappeared, de-materializing in neat individual parts. It was honestly horrifying yet morbidly fascinating watching it all get separated organized and de-materialized. Making a strong self-note to not watch it happen or do it around anyone else he checked the screen, seeing a reward of 30 points. For one bullet and a little bit of existential horror at what he'd seen it didn't seem like a bad reward, but he didn't at all want to stay his welcome. He did however choose to transfer the points into caps. It turned out to be an even 40 caps which disappeared, likely into the pip boy inventory.

With the gnawing feeling at his awareness assuring him of his proximity to the waypoint he made to finish the walk. Setting foot in one of the most iconic locations in fallout history momentarily replaced the unsteady feeling with awe as he made his way through the town, receiving some wary glances from some of the townsfolk going about their duties. The watchful yet disinterested appearing eye of one Easy Pete followed him as he walked up the main road. However, it was the bubbly greeting of Sunny that greeted him.

"Howdy, hope you didn't have all too much trouble getting into town." She said in a sort of questioning manner.

"Sorry about that, hope it wasn't a bother. Came across a gecko and felt like taking a shot," he replied.

"No worries, just that people have been a little weary lately. Name's Sunny Smiles," she offered a hand.

Her cheeriness feeling infectious even in the dreary wastes, he accepted the handshake and responded with a smile only half forced, "Jack Nelson, Nice to meet you."

He was aware of her checking him out, though out of caution or something else he couldn't say. But he had to admit that without old game graphics, she was a pretty woman herself. He didn't let his gaze linger though, not wanting to be impolite.

"Where you come from Jack?" She asked him, "We don't get all too much travel lately, getting rarer to see a new face around." The cheerful and friendly approach never dipped a bit.

"Oh somewhere off westward," he replied with an exaggerated gesture off to where he thought westward was. Failing to come up with anything on the spot through the turmoil in his head.

She arched an eyebrow at him, though used to the mutual weariness of the wastes she just nodded, "Welcome to this little piece of paradise. Why don't you come on in? Trudy's got all the good stuff. First round on me."

With the slightest upturn of the corner of her lip, she led him into the bar, where the sounds of an argument reached his ears.

"I'm done being nice," A gruff voice that was soon matched with a face as he walked into the bar area. Sunny bristled as Jack walked in after her, "If you don't bring Ringo soon I'll get my friends and we'll burn this town to the ground-"

Moving more on instinct and muscle memory prompted by memories of the darker playthroughs he'd seen, Cobb found his sentence interrupted by the exaggerated click of a hammer being pulled and a slight cough from the doorway.

Looking on with a steeled expression Jack let himself have a little chuckle to himself as he thought to himself, "Seems I arrived at a rather inopportune time."