Yesterday, a curious thing happened that I felt compelled to relay. As of late my playing time had largely been taken up by Fallout: New Vegas. I waited until the game had something along the lines of a patch update to fix the major game breaking glitches I had been hearing about. With that hurdle out of the way I jumped into the game and found that I enjoyed New Vegas just as much as it’s predecessor Fallout 3. However, matters took a turn for the weird this week with a bizarre discovery that would lead me on a journey of epic proportion—and confusion.
I loaded New Vegas up and attempted to continue a save from the night before only to find that a new game save was listed underneath my character.
However, the oddness level went up even further when I saw that not only was this character a copy in name of my character from Fallout 3, but the save was for a completed game! Confused, I booted the save up to find Deardra at max level with a massive collection of artillery and caps (the currency in Fallout for those uninitiated). Digging through the character’s inventory, the most shocking discovery of all was a diary that belonged to my character!
Here now I give you the bizarre everyday thoughts and musing of Deardra, the courier of the Vegas wastes.
June 8th, 10:20 AM
-I awoke in a haze in front of a greasy man that looked akin to what would come out if a Wookiee and a sea lion mated. Apparently, this “doctor” is responsible for patching up a minor gunshot to my head. His words. Wouldn’t say I’d call a gunshot to the head minor, but whatever. My real question is… why am I sitting on a couch being asked if I see a kitty or a mustache in an ink blot test while in my underwear?
June 9th, 12:01 AM
-After cavorting around town and compulsively stealing some junk items from the local ‘folk (including an EXTREMELY nice hot plate), I found myself being followed by a generic looking robot with the face of a rapist on the screen. The shady automaton vehemently suggested that it was a cowboy… but I wasn’t fooled by the mustache. Suddenly, the “cowboy” walked through a signpost and became stuck in a rock. Curious. Confounded, I walked off aimlessly in a random direction, off to see what simpletons of the desert I could help with inane tasks and murder. But, mostly murder.
June 15th, 4:00 PM
-That whole wandering thing? Bad idea. I went in a circle five times, killed a guy for a bottle cap necklace, and wandered into the same abandoned quarry full of massive killing machines twelve times before I realized that maybe I should get a little better with explosives before trying my hand with the deathclaw. Also, I am still in my underwear. But, good news! I just found some armored pants in my bag. I’m not sure where they came from, but in the pocket of the pants was an advertisement for something called a “Gme Stp”. A shady name for a shady town. I do not wish to go there.
June 16th, 1:00 PM
-The desert is a vast ocean of rock and bronze that calms my nerves as sounded as that of the waves of the Atlantic. Slowly and surely the static noise of the fauna lulls me into a fugue state of sorts that alleviates all of my troubles in this dastardly wasteland. Oh, the majesty of the expanse that sits before me! Oh, how I tremble at the sights I see that set my so---
Oh, look! A robot with a flame thrower fighting a scorpion, frozen in place and flying across the desert! Ah, the grace of the world around us is truly astounding.
June 17th, Noon
-I find myself aligned with a group of men who call themselves Powder Gangers. I do not trust these men. Why? Every guy that is white talks like a black guy, and every black guy talks like a white guy. Somehow, these people must be confused. Regardless, I helped them in murdering random people in exchange for bottle caps.
June 18th, 1:00 PM
-I begin to wonder if maybe I should not align myself with this gang. Their hideout is being attacked by a large amount of slow moving NCR troops. Very slow....
In............fact.........I.........seem to.........be slowing do......w..........n.
(editor’s note: It seems that after this line there are just a bunch of z’s and the letters eRRoR over and over. I’ll try to figure out what all of this could mean until the next post).
originally posted on www.digitalhippos.com by one William Harrison
