Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Fallout: New Vegas War Journal - Chapter Eight

I hate it when I'm right.

Boone and I return to Jason Bright and he is pleased that we've cleared the way to the rocket. Seems that my showing up to deliver them from the demons is a "sign" and now they can get Chris (i.e. the human I met earlier who thinks he is a ghoul) to fix things up.

Jason Bright: My one regret is that we must leave Chris behind.
Me: How's that?
Jason Bright: The Promised Land is full of radiation that will enrich us all... but would kill Chris, who is not the sort of person who could become One Of Us.
Me: So you've been using him this whole time in the name of your church?
Jason Bright: He will be a saint, revered for all time, as you will be.
Me: Right. Well, uh... thanks for that. I'm going to go before I start saying some very uncomplimentary things about the irony of a bunch of religious fanatics using science to deny someone entry to Heaven...

Me: I think this nonsense has gone on long enough.
Chris: Eh? What's that, Smoothskin?
Me: You aren't a ghoul.
Chris: Yes I am! I've been becoming one ever since I was an engineer in Vault 34.
Me: Really?
Chris: Yeah! I worked around the nuclear reactor for years and my hair began falling out!
Me: ... just how old were you when that happened?
Chris: About 35.
Me: Uh, dude. That's totally natural for some men. It's called going bald.
Chris: Uh... well, how would you explain why my skin is so clammy and spotty? Or why my odor is offensive to all around me.
Me: General poor hygiene.
Chris: Well, if I'm not a ghoul, why would human women refuse to date me?!
Me: Again, general poor hygiene.
Chris: ... oh my god! You're right! I've been living a lie this whole time! But why would Jason humor me?
Me: Well, maybe he thought it was kinder that way. Or he was just using you to get everyone else to a promised land you can never go to.
Chris: What?! Those jerks! I'll kill them all! I can rig the rockets to...
Me: Woah! You don't want to do that.
Chris: I don't?
Me: You're not a murderer, Chris.
Chris: I'm not?
Me: Well, okay - you probably are given that you have to use a gun to survive in this damned crazy world and you had to have gotten here from the vault SOMEHOW. But you aren't going to kill these people.
Chris: Give me a good reason why I shouldn't.
Me: Because they took you in and accepted you even though you were a foul-smelling, hideous, sub-moronic...
Chris: Watch it!
Me: Sorry. The point is - they did care for you as one of their own. And right now... they need your help.
Chris: ... okay. But I'm going to need some parts to make it happen.

One Trip Out Of The Base For Rocket Parts and Rare Radioactive Isotopes Later

(For Those Who Have Trouble With The Embedded Player: )

Boone: Nice thing you did there. Stopping the man from killing all the ghouls that used him.
Me: Yeah well... just my Good Nature, I suppose.
Boone: I suppose.
Me: Plus, the smell of all those burning ghoul corpses would probably have killed everyone in Novac.
Boone: Yep.

We head on back to Novac and I tell Manny about how the ghouls won't be any trouble to him anymore. And what's more they've got a new town mechanic, as I talked Chris into coming back with us to Novac. He upholds his end of the bargain, telling me that the man in the checkered coat and the gang that he's running with headed north.

What's more, the owner of the tourist trap T-Rex had a little something extra for me: a room of my own at the local hotel. Rent Free, for as long as I wanted it. I finally, in the words of George Carlin, have a place for my stuff.

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