"Nngh- my head..." I groaned.

The sense of splitting my head into two slowly receded and the liquid cold rush of understanding surged into me.

"This isn't my body."

I snapped open my eyes and came my sense of balance and proprioception. It felt... liberating. I felt old.

As if my current kneeling position was all I needed to know my place; I remembered the answer to what happened before I got here. Looks like I suffered a short black out. And a cardiac arrest. And an aneurysm. And a bout of extreme starvation.

I forced myself up.

Slow firing of neurons got me groaning again. As if my limbs were dead and was recently given blood flow.

The distinct feeling of haze crept away from my sight as my hearing sharpened into recognizing the ambience.

I was in a desert, on the outskirts of a town.

My ears could pick up something hitting the soil, an animal chortling as it munched on its food, the distant chatter that reminded me of a bar.

"Where the fuck am I?"

I turned around towards where I heard the sounds of talking.

It was a saloon, one that felt awfully familiar. But I just can't place it. My eyes dropped to the ruined asphalt and I was forced to look behind me, back to where I was originally facing.

Then, I heard an animal groan in what I think was frustration. I tried to look for it and I knew, I was fucked.

It was a fucking pack brahmin.

My neck snapped around and immediately surveyed for danger, eyes whirling in considerable speed until I knew nothing could hurt me within 100 feet.

"Goodsprings... thank fuck it wasn't the Quarry. I'd be monster chow within seconds."

I began my delirious walking into the saloon. Every step taunting me to let go and lie on the cracked asphalt and sleep. My head was spinning and my mind was going in and out of focus.

For every step I made, I braced myself.

For every step I took, my mind got clearer.

For my final step onto the saloon, memories surged forth.

And everything made sense.

My name was Jeffrey something, in this life and the one before. But the last name, the family name; it eludes me.

I can't remember. As if I didn't have any.

"You alright there Jeff?"

The old man that went out through the saloon door was none other than th-... what the fuck was this old guy's name?

"I think I'm getting migraines." I slurred. He took one good look at me again and he had this look, "Well, best to visit Doc Mitchel 'fore you leave. Might be rad poisoning."

The headache was slowly going away, but my entire body was like being electrocuted. That- that feeling when you've slept on an arm and then it gets all tingly? Tha's my distraction, except on the whole fucking body.

My dick feels like it's been split with a ripper.

"Thanks, Pete. Be seeing you."

The man gave me a nod and we parted ways as I stepped into the Prospector Saloon. No sooner than my first step, was I assaulted by a dog licking my face.

I groaned, "Down girl. I was just gone for a minute."

"Cheyenne, sit." Sunny called on to the dog. "So wh- you don't feel good, do you?" she asked. And I certainly feel don't, "Maybe. Just need to have a seat." I murmured and walked towards the both with the padded seats that felt good for my body.

"Hey." Sunny snapped her fingers. "You conscious?"

I nodded to the girl who sat across my seat, "Where's Trudy? I need a drink."

"You sure about that? You look like you're one sip away from keeling over." She said while I massaged the back of my neck. "I'll be fine. 'sides, it's not like I'm ever going to go down from a few drinks. I'd just prefer to get one before I visit doc."

"Well," she hummed, "Trudy's not coming back yet, she's on that old gas station dealing with caravans." she pointed through the windows... even if Chet's store was blocking the view.

"Fine, you get me a drink. And a bed, I think I'm gonna sleep this through first. Might just be something I ate."

"There's a literal shack near the school. I keep telling you it's yours, no one's using it."

I gave her a dry look, "Does it have drinks?"

"Ah, that. You have to buy. Like I said, Trudy's busy. She'll be gone for an hour- You know what? Let's wait for old Pete to finish his stuff, then we'll go to the shack."

"Blergh." I splayed myself on the table. Even if the memories and pains were subsiding, I feel incredibly lazy. "Fine." I murmured.

"That's great! I think you'll enjoy it."

"mm, yeh, sure."

"Let's just wait for old man Easy Pete, then we can go."

"Blergh." I'm starting to feel even more lethargic. My sense of hearing picked up on the fact that there was not a single person inside this saloon. "Where is everybody?"

"I told you, there's a caravan on the gas station. I'm mostly here to take Easy Pete's place while he goes to the bathroom."

So that's the chatter I was hearing earlier. They're loud pretty if that's the case. Perhaps it's a matter of haggling with a lot of people? Goodsprings is a pretty big town if I was just a few meters from the Saloon... why was I walking towards the big white cross-?

"Jeff, come on! Pete's back. Cheyenne, stay here with Pete."

The dog beside my feet whined. So, I let my arm drop and began my futile effort of trying to pet her. An action which did wonders because she stopped whining and jumped my face.

"Alright, ar-chk- pff- pff-! Down, girl! You're too excitable!" but my words fell on deaf ears because Cheyenne didn't stop.

"If you don't stop, I will stop petting you."

Cheyenne barked.

Near my fucking ear.

Wincing was insufficient, exclaiming in pain was preferrable. Which I did with no delay.

"Bad Cheyenne! Bad!" I shouted. "You're getting no pats for two days!"

And the dog had the audacity to fucking answer with wagging her tail and trying to form words with her growls. I stood up, slowly, and ignored the dog whose bark was still ringing in my yet-to-settle hearing.

"Stop snickering Sunny. Where's this shack-? Pete, don't think I can't see you."

Both were smiling like they saw the funniest thing.

Which they didn't. What they saw was a bitch, trying to get my attention by barking on my fucking ear!

I was already out the saloon when Sunny finally calmed herself and followed me. "I want to lie down, now. If this bed's another rusted spring bed, there'll be pay back."

Sunny thought for a second to gather a response, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Right.." That was definitely her fault, I thin- I can't fucking think straight.

"Nggh..."

As I hobbled, still can't walk straight due to electric feeling, I heard the trading much better. There's an awful lot of them, haggling and trading and exclaiming. It makes me wonder why there's fewer people in the game and the lack of actual body guar-!

The fuc- Ngr-! "Fuck."

Sunny's arm came under mine for support and matched my hobbling towards the shack.

Also, the game. I almost forgot because of this pain and other set of memories. This isn't probably going to stick close to the game timeline of events. Today is the 14th day of October, year 2277. The game starts at 2281 October, but I don't know which date. Which means I have a few years to prepare to settle my affairs before I could tangle with things. Such preparation will most likely cause a chain reaction so I better try not to control things beyond my power.

Like my identity.

I was a mercenary from New California Republic and was recently hired by the NCR as auxiliary to their troops on their scouting of Caesar's Legion to see if they could stop their assault on Hoover Dam which, of course, succeeded just like in the game.

Joshua Graham was set on fire and Caesar retreated, this September, last month.

Everything was still tense and I was one of the lucky few who got the chance to loot the battlefield and get away. A visit with Doc Mitchel got my face slightly modified, and the modification just so happen to be my old fac-

"This is it?" I asked. "...ye- yeah?"

I eyed the shack. It was pretty well maintained, and assuming Victor (House's robot) wasn't still here... "Do you sleep here?"

"Sometimes." Sunny answered a little bit too quick and deftly opened the door with her two keys.

Sunny lied to me.

I sighed.

"Let's just get inside." And off I hobbled onto Sunny's Shack.

She slowly let go of me as I gingerly walked towards the bed to lie down. Then, I heard the door click shut.

...Sunny wants to have sex.

"Sunny."

"Ye- yes?" she squeaked.

"How old are you?"

"17! Ei-eighteen tomorrow..."

"Happy Birthday Sunny. Now, I'm tired and I want to really sleep. If you want to join me, we can cuddle."

"... we can?"

I scooted over and lied down. "Here." I patted the space.

"But you're dirty."

I was wearing a low-ride duster cloak, it's comfortable. I held back a sigh. "I don't want to change. If you want, you can go ahead. I'm not stopping you. I'm really, really, really sleepy now. Good night."

I dropped and fell deep into blissful unconsciousness.

-Memento Mori-

I slowly woke up to a nice and warm feeling. It was a good one, a feeling that made me elated. When I opened my eyes, it was to the sight of Sunny riding my cock in bliss. She was mewling as she bounced and wrapped around my shaft.

I grab hold of her hips, shocking her, and started thrusting. Her mewls turned into moans. My body was feeling good now, so I held her tight and stood up to press her against the wall.

"J- Jeff!" she moaned when I thrusted a little too forceful.

"Yes?" I teased her, slowly pulling back and suddenly slamming forward. "I want- eek!" my slow thrusts switched into nailing her to the wall and not stopping until I cum.

"Yes! YES! YES!" Sunny cried into my neck in visible pleasure. Her pussy was dripping wet, and tight enough to make it feel deceptively good. The sounds of her soppy lips meeting with my thrusts was music that wanted me to cum inside this girl.

Her legs locked around my waist and was tightening as I slam into her. "I-it's ngh~ a saFE~! Day pl-please~?"

"Please what?"

Before she could answer, I lifted her up slightly, and angled my thrusts- "YES~!" My lips found her neck and I began biting lightly. "In~nggh~siiiiDE~ fuckfuckfuck!" with one last thrust, I fully hilted myself and came.

Sunny exclaimed in surprise as I came once more and she wrapped her legs around me, I came another time and her fleshy walls clamped down harder on my shaft. Her hands that were holding onto my shoulders shifted to hug my neck. She gasped and tried to catch her breath but I thought of something else those lips could do, so I claimed them.

"Mmpphf~" she moaned, slowly rocking her hips in pleasurable rhythm. Her small movements got me hard again, so in consideration of her efforts, I slowly got us to the bed where I lied us both down. Our lips separated, and Sunny moaned when I slowly started thrusting again.

"Jeff~!" she moaned as I started nibbling the nape of her neck. With incredibly timing, I felt myself getting hard again as Sunny came on my cock sensually hitting her spot every time I bury myself into her wet folds. Then my hips began picking up speed again, soon ours ears were filled with her soppy pussy leaking my white milk as I sensually fucked her stupid.

Fucking her missionary allowed me to explore her B-cup breasts and greedily suck on her small pink nipples. It prompted her hands to cling on the back of my head. Sunny was tightening around me again, but I continued sensually fucking her dripping slit.

She was now calling my name in fits of pleasure. Her face twisted into one filled with sheer ecstasy and a quivering body that shook every time I fully hilted myself in her.

I pulled away my lips from her nipples and held her by the hips and began to pound her juicy folds relentlessly. It was the right timing as her voice began echoing within the shack. As my pumping got stronger, Sunny began to uncontrollably moan and gasp, my shaft piercing her tightening pussy.

"yesyesyes~ yes~" she moaned as her hips began twitching in time with my thrusts. Her efforts egged me on to my limit and I was forced to fuck her even harder.

"Yes~!"

Her body was quivering with pleasure and she can't seem to control herself as she began to move her hips randomly.

I was close.

"Harder please~!"

So, it was with a grunt that I forcefully slammed myself into the mewling brunette below, I came loads and loads. Which seem to have triggered her because, she too, came hard and her already tight pussy clenched down on me.

"YES~!"

I groaned, feeling spent and lied down on top of her, never once pulling out my cock from her twitching pussy that wants more. We both panted and gasped for breath, then Sunny's arms wrapped around me.

Soon, I lost the will to stay conscious as her warmth calmed me.

-Memento Mori-

I woke up again.

This time with that sensation you get after a full night's rest and everything was just too clear. Like nothing was wrong and everything was fine.

The warmth beside me felt lovely and comforting.

Then I remembered what I just did.

The smile that split my lips might as well have been a grin.

I turned and saw the sleeping girl curled up beside me. I watched as her breasts rose and settled with every breath. Last night was an unexpected encounter and came from nowhere.

My attention turned to her face. I traced my fingers under her jaw and engaged her in a lip lock. She woke up and immediately returned the favor by sending her tongue and vigorously sought mine. I cupped her ass and began a light massage.

She broke from the kiss and groaned. Eyes fluttered open and looked into mine, "I like that."

I snorted, "Happy birthday."

She smiled and hugged me. "You know, that was my first time."

Really, now?

"And you were... yeah, you got me good." she spoke, clearly reminiscing the events of last night.

"Mm hmm. As much as I enjoy cuddling, I want to go visit the doc... so, bath?"

She gave me a saucy grin that I wanted.

-Memento Mori-

An exhausting sex on the tub later, and we finally suited up and did some basic maintenance on our equipment. After ensuring everything was in order, we went out and separated with a kiss.

Sunny was going to the Water Tower on the cemetery and will resume her duties as sentry.

I, however, made my way to Doc Mitchel's house and knocked.

Then knocked again.

I heard the sound of locks unlatching and the good Doctor greeted me. "Howdy."

"Jeff, always a pleasure. What brings you here?"

I made my way inside when Doc motioned me in and I waited as he locked the door. "I was going to visit yesterday due to an ungodly headache and body pain. Easy Pete told me it might be rad poisoning."

"We best be sitting down if that's the case."

Doc Mitchel did a series of testing and told me it was just exhaustion coupled with lack of sleep. But since I was here, I segued our conversation into me pointing out his Vig-o-Matic Tester Machine.

"That? It's a miraculous old relic that still somehow works. Why don't you give it a try? See if my tests missed something."

So we walked over and as soon as I pricked my finger on the blood sampler, did it fuck over my sight and turned into the game's equivalent.

Lucky me.

I found out I have SEVEN in all stats with no additional stats to distribute, nor the ability to redistribute.

When I finished going through it, everything went back to normal. And I waited for Doc Mitchel to read the data printed on the machine's screen.

"Well, I'll be. A seven in all of them. You must be one lucky fella', how do you feel?"

I made a showing of trying to hold on to the machine, acting tired. "A little... unenergetic, I guess. These tests sure take a lot."

"Eh, you'll get used to it when it's all you've been doing for life. Here's your prescription and the meds. That'll be 180 caps." The good Doctor handed me a... pack of medication with a detailed prescription on top.

I reached behind my coat, onto my back pouch and withdrew $400 worth of NCR bills. "Will these do, doc?"

"It's more'n enough. Just don't have the bills for your change-"

"Oh, no. Keep it doc. I always come back here anyway. A little more money to make sure you have supplies wouldn't hurt."

Doc Mitchel got into this thinking look as we stood in front of the machine. "You know, Jeff. I've been keeping count and I think you've given me over ten thousand now."

"What? Pshh. Don't be ridiculous doc, it's all for keeping you stocked. Wouldn't want you to run out of meds in an emergency, would we?"

Doc shrugged but an idea got into him. "Wait right here." so I waited for him to get whatever it was.

I seriously don't want him to give back those extra money I paid him. More so, now that I know I'm pretty sure I'll be either the Courier, or will meet the courier. Ensuring the Doc can heal anyone with all the necessary medical supplies wouldn't hurt if it was me or a future ally.

"Here, these are yours now."

I snapped my attention to the Doctor. On his hands were a Pip-Boy 3000 and a dozen of stimpacks.

"Doc-"

"I insist. I still have one other Pip-Boy, and I'm not hurting for stimpacks either. Take it."

I nodded and took the Pip-Boy. The doctor helped me wear it and entered the initializing code. The stimpacks went to my back pouch.

"Thanks Doc."

"You're welcome, now off you go."

I nodded dumbly and waited for him to open the door. "Be seeing you doc."

"Use that pipboy to save on money. Didn't give it to you to overpay me again!" he shouted behind the thick door which he now locked.

As I took the first step off the house, the Pip-Boy made a sound. I looked at the new device on my arm. What it displayed made me do a double take.

Dead Money unlocked.
Honest Hearts unlocked.
Old World Blues unlocked.
Lonesome Road unlocked.

Level cap raised to 50.

Holy sheet.

Then, the memories of the old me typing something on my old laptop... The new me hiding his stash of items somewhere.

It all came back to me and crystallized into one good-

I think I just made a Jump.

-Memento Mori-

Fallout New Vegas JumpChain

War. War never changes.

When atomic fire consumed the earth, those who survived did so in great, underground vaults. When they opened, their inhabitants set out across ruins of the old world to build new societies, establish new villages, forming tribes.

As decades passed, what had been the American southwest united beneath the flag of the New California Republic, dedicated to old-world values of democracy and the rule of law. As the Republic grew, so did its needs. Scouts spread east, seeking territory and wealth, in the dry and merciless expanse of the Mojave Desert. They returned with tales of a city untouched by the warheads that had scorched the rest of the world, and a great wall spanning the Colorado River.

The NCR mobilized its army and sent it east to occupy the Hoover Dam, and restore it to working condition. But across the Colorado, another society had arisen under a different flag. A vast army of slaves, forged from the conquest of 86 tribes: Caesar's Legion.

Four years have passed since the Republic held the Dam - just barely - against the Legion's onslaught. The Legion did not retreat. Across the river, it gathers strength. Campfires burned; training drums beat.

Through it all, the New Vegas Strip has stayed open for business under the control of its mysterious overseer, Mr. House, and his army of rehabilitated Tribals and police robots.

Mojave, mo' problems, am I right folks?

Start:
(+1000) Caps/Choice Points

Date Start:
[2277] *affected by Hardcore*

Date End:
[+10 years]

Background:
[Wild Card] - Maybe you don't have a past here, maybe you crawled out of some vault or other or maybe you're just the mail man. Regardless, your part in here is not set in stone yet and there's always somebody around who needs another pair of hands to help them out.

Faction:
[New California Republic] - A large, democratic federation based in California and with holdings in Nevada, Oregon, Mexico and along the Colorado river. They would tell you that they seek to restore order to the wasteland and regain many old-world values thought to be lost when the bombs fell such as democracy, personal liberty and the rule of law. Their detractors see a large, frequently corrupt bureaucracy with leaders too political in bent desperate to take the wealth and people of Vegas for their own. Either way they are a force to be reckoned with in the Mojave and they may be the best hope against hordes of legionaries from the east.

Location:
[Goodsprings] - A good town with mostly good people. Unfortunately, they're having a bit of trouble due to the recent breakout at the NCR Correctional Facility and an altercation between a man from the Crimson Caravan Company. The road to the North has some serious wildlife problems between the cazadores, deathclaws and chem addicts so it's likely going to be the long way round if you want to see the Strip. Still, it's a good place to start and get your bearings and with your help the militia should be able to show those Powder Gangers a thing or two.

Race:
[Human] - As a default you're a regular human but if you'd like you may choose one of the mutated "races" to be instead. Any Race taken will provide an alt-form but you will still be able to access the abilities and advantages of your race. All races ensure that you no longer age, can no longer get diseases and you are no longer harmed by radiation.

Perks:
[Wild Wasteland (-100 caps); Wild Card Freebie (+100 caps)] - Weird things happen around you. It's not always good, sometimes manifests as a cheap joke or reference and it's sometimes a little dangerous but there's a weird bent to your travels that sometimes provides things and experiences of great value. It's not like a UFO will crash next to you every time you leave your house but if a UFO is going to crash anywhere, you're probably going to bump into it at some point. Togglable and with optional sound effect.

[A Delivery Service You Can Count On (-600 caps); Wild Card Discount (+300 caps)] - As long as you've got a job to do, you keep going longer than, strictly speaking, what makes sense and it'll take more than a bullet to the head and being buried half-alive to finish you off. Whether this is through an increase in luck, moments of brilliance, or a lack of wisdom your enemies show when choosing their weapon size; the chances of your death greatly reduces when you are actively working towards a specific, achievable objective.

[Ranger (-200 caps); NCR Freebie (+200 caps)] - Chewing nails, spitting napalm, etc. You've gone through ranger training or similar and you are mentally and physically the toughest the NCR has to offer. On the slim chance you're captured alive (given your tactical flexibility and skill at arms) your torturers won't get more than a succinct "fuck you" and you'd be spitting in the devil's face in hell before giving those plumed fucks the satisfaction of hearing you scream.

[War Never Changes (FREE)] - When you decide to mosey on to another setting you find that a familiar voice (Ron Perlman) begins speaking of your time wherever you were, the consequences of your actions for various groups and, without further meddling, something of the fate of individuals you had an impact on. You also get to watch a relevant slideshow as this happens.

[Whiskey Rose (-100 caps)] - You remain as capable as ever and do not experience the negative effects of alcohol or drugs at all suffering no addictions or hangovers. You actually become slightly more durable when drunk as well making you marginally more capable in a bar brawl (or fire fight) when intoxicated.

Items:

*Items taken by Super Mutants or Nightkin (particularly outfits) are modified to fit.
*You gain a replenishing stock of ammunition for any weapons purchased here.

[Basic Gear (FREE)] - Your basic arms and armor. These will vary considerably between Factions and while a Brotherhood member may gain recon armor and a laser rifle a member of Caesar's Legion will have to make do with armoured hockey gear and a cowboy repeater (or arms of similar quality).
+Back pouch
+Sling bag
+Spare Clothes
+Switch blade
+Weathered 10mm Pistol
+64 10mm ammo (replenishes)

[Pip-Boy (-100 caps); Wild Card Freebie (+100 caps)] - A wrist-mounted computer with a radio (host may be a robot who refers to your actions), maps, the mostly useless VATS and much more. Strangely, any light or noise this device produces will not draw any attention to you. Alternatively, you can upgrade this to a much gaudier Pimp Boy 3Billion for no extra cost (and for no real benefit to be honest).

[Sunset Sarsaparilla Crate (-50 caps)] - Build Mass with Sass! The beverage of the West Coast. Cold despite coming from a crate, delicious and lacking any of the health worries present with large consumption of the stuff you'd get in the wastes. The crate never empties and some of the bottles will even have mysterious bottlecaps with stars on.

[Heavy Weight Ordinance (-150 caps); Anti-Materiel Rifle] - A really great gun of some sort. Whether energy or ballistic this is a unique, beautiful weapon which is simultaneously more lightweight and powerful and has a faster rate of fire. You may also choose the basic theme/design. Here are some suggestions: Plasma caster, gauss rifle, gatling laser, minigun, anti-materiel rifle, brush gun, combat shotgun. You also get a replenishing stock of various special ammunitions (explosive rounds, hollow points, etc.).
+Anti-Materiel Rifle
+150 .50BMG Incendiary
+150 .50BMG High Explosive
+150 .50BMG Armor Piercing
+150 .50BMG Standard

[Sierra Madre Vending Machine (-200 caps)] - A vending machine that can fabricate food, drinks, cigarettes, clothes, medicine, ammo and other supplies containing all known codes of the resort. Requires chips but comes with a hatch that provides a needlessly large stipend daily.
+2000 Sierra Madre Chips (refreshes)

[Stealth Suit Mk. II (-200 caps)] - A talking stealth suit that increases your moving speed, heals you when damaged (or poisoned) and generally wants what's best for you. This one appears to have been tinkered with by the Chinese as it has full stealth-field capabilities rendering you invisible when sneaking. It really wants you to like it.

[Vertibird (-200 caps)] - A craft similar to a helicopter with two propellers. This one has gatling lasers, missile racks, does not run out of fuel and is well armored and shielded enough to resist more than a few missiles and even an EMP. It's even got a small stock of mini-nukes that replenish daily.
+960 gatling laser shots
+60 missiles
+12 Mini-Nukes (refreshes)

[Courier Duster (-400 caps)] - A duster (or coat) and outfit of your design with an emblem or symbol that somehow represents you or your allegiance on the back. It is always a viable and protective piece of armour regardless of how durable you become (and whether or not it has sleeves) and it grows in quality as you do. A smooth talker will find themselves even more charismatic in this duster, a skilled marksman will easily make shots they wouldn't even attempt without it and the better you are the better it is. It may change in shape and material over time to fit the places you'll go, the messages you'll carry. The symbol on your back may shift as well. Or not.

Even if it is nothing at all, know what you follow. Whatever your symbol, carry it on your back, and wear it proudly.

Followers:
[None]

Scenarios:
[Old World Blues] - Big MT, a research base before the war and now a legendary treasure trove of technology. "Controlled" by a group of think tanks (unique brain bots with the not entirely stable brains of brilliant pre-war scientists) called the Think Tank and Mobius their former colleague and current adversary (also a think tank). The Think Tank do not know it (currently running on the theory that there is no world outside Big MT) but many of their experiments and creations (cazadores and night stalkers chief among them) have escaped into the wastes and brought death and destruction with them. Your task is to fight your way through lobotomites, mini-deathclaws and robo-scorpions alike to either destroy the Think Tank and permanently stop any further threat their experiments pose to the Mojave or to reason with them and convince them to work together on your behalf for (hopefully) a brighter future.

[Reward] - Your time picking through the labs of Big MT have afforded you a certain way of thinking. As if possessed by the will of SCIENCE! itself you find yourself constantly coming up with scientific breakthroughs that you're sure will work. Unfortunately, while potentially possible to turn to good, these ideas are always initially somewhere between pointless and horribly insane. You may not be able to cure diseases or invent tools that improve basic quality of life but the creation of new species of monstrous mutants or the invention of sapient neurotic sinks is now, not only possible, but downright easy. If removed you may also take your own brain in a jar as a companion. Don't ask, it just works. You also get your own pet X-42 giant robo-scorpion that seems to run without an energy source.

Drawbacks:
[Almost Makes You Wish for a Nuclear Winter (+100 caps)] - People will get the urge to say the same things to you over and over again. Somehow members of the same faction miles apart from each other will blurt the same few lines at you every time you pass. It'll get real tiresome real quickly.

[Guardian of the Wastes (+200 caps)] - You're destined to have a lot of work come your way, unfortunately nobody else seems to get anything done so if your side is going to win a war you're going to be dealing with the enemy top brass (and half their army) personally and when feral ghouls need exterminating or a lost caravan needs finding it's going to be you doing it or no-one.

[Hardcore Mode (+300 caps)] - You have no access to your warehouse or any other items from elsewhere and no powers, perks or abilities from previous jumps.

You retain any companions that are imported or purchased here but they too only keep what they have bought in this jump with Caps.

Not recommended.
*Several items are inaccessible until conditions met*
*Will start right after the First Battle for Hoover Dam*

-Memento Mori-

Knowledge of my previous choices flitted.

Then-

My mind blanked.

The final piece of the puzzle slotted into my mind and the great fog that covered much of it receded. I saw both memories and tried to reconcile my losses, my regrets; all the pain I've been through.

Even if my old self's memories were edited, my new self's memories made more than enough to go through the grief, even if it was just as spotty as my old memories.

I faced my losses and embraced my new self.

My parents loved me and they died as farmers. I was forced to sell the land and became a contractual freelancer of odd jobs. Anything that can pay me well enough, so long as it's relatively easy, I did it. Until I got a job that went as south as it could and I became a Mercenary.

Years of fighting against raider scum, protecting caravans, and claiming bounties have turned me into what I am now. It was also what got me as an auxiliary in scouting against Caesar's Legion. A contract that got me into the first battle for Hoover Dam.

I looted a lot of things and was forced to hide those loot and change my outfit. I was already close to Goodsprings when I decided to hide the loot and change outfit. A little more effort got me to Doc Mitchel's where I paid for his service to slightly change my face. A face that closely resembled my old one.

After a month of me helping around town, protecting against wannabe thieves and raiders, I gained their good will. A few weeks after that, and now we're here.

I looked at my Pip-Boy and went into the only quest that popped up.

[Survive a Decade]
The wasteland is yours to explore, just beware of the danger that lurks around.

It wasn't helpful, but it allowed me a sense of purpose.

Now I have to find my secret stash.

-Memento Mori-

I was stood before the Goodsprings Cave.

In front of me lay three coyotes, all dead.

And I don't know if the new me was high back then. Whatever pushed him into placing all the loot inside a cave full of coyote, I will never know. But I think it involved Jet, Mentats, and a fuckton of Stealth Boys.

Yes.

Most definitely.

I heard the angry yips from inside the cave and I knew my grenades and 10mm pistol might not be enough. But the entrance is a chokepoint.

Problem is, they don't want to come out.

Go on, guess what I have to do.

-Memento Mori-

"FUCK. YOU!" I punted another coyote while I shot another. "FUCK! YOU!" I grabbed a dead coyote on my feet and used it to club the shit out of the last coyote.

It was effective enough to stagger it and allowed me to shoot it in the head.

"Fucking finally."

I breathed in the stench of blood, gore, and gun powder. My duster-coat was, thankfully, waterproof and so most of the blood slid right off. My shirt and pants, on the other hand, was soaked as fuck.

My back pouch was untouched, another good thing, and I pulled a stimpack to use.

Sweet sweet healing came rushing into my veins and I have the sudden urge to take a shit so I took a moment and shat on one of the coyote and used another three to wipe my ass clean.

Ahh, tea-bagging.

Much more fun if you can do it to kill two birds with one stone.

Or coyote, in my case.

I continued towards the end of the cave and found the slapdash of rocks and hard soil that I've used to cover the duffel bags and sacks of loot. My past self sure did do a miracle. Because I don't see a normal human lifting all those 400+ lbs. worth of weapons, equipment, and the crate of sarsaparilla.

I waved over the top rocks and made my way down until I can grab hold of the straps and handles. When I pulled, I surprised myself by feeling as if I was just lifting 120 lbs. instead of 400+ that all these were worth. I chalked it up to the SPECIALs, what with them all being seven. Or just that something related to the game was at work.

Not that 120 lbs. isn't heavy. Heck no, it's still heavy! I think a sack of rice weighs 125 lbs., so I feel as if I was just lifting that, instead of the ungodly 400+ lbs. which I have to haul all the way to Sunny's shack... a shack... a shack that I don't have the key of.

Fuck.

It'd be dangerous to let these things lying around here, now that there's no den of coyotes to protect it.

I was stupid and forced a decision on myself. Yay, past-me.

I grumbled on my way to the cemetery to get my key from Sunny. I saw people along the way congratulating me on the size of my loot and I greeted them back. Almost everyone I saw was either openly carrying a melee weapon or a pistol. Some were even carrying sacks of equipment and food.

I think those came from the caravans still using the old gas station as their shop. I better hurry if I want to abuse my instantly-replenishing crate of sarsaparilla.

Finally, when I crested over the hill to the cemetery I called Sunny.

"Sunny!"

"I'm on sentry! What is it Jeff?!"

"I need the keys!"

"Here!"

She threw me two keys bound in a key ring.

"Thanks!"

" 'kay!"

She really was busy being on sentry, so I just made my way to the shack.

-Memento Mori-

I managed to rearrange the desks and shelves on the other side of the door, opposite the bed. The bed was on the door's right, and the stock of supplies I have was to the left. The shack was surprisingly spacious so I made use of it and the available furnitures. The result was a mini-armory and miscellaneous storage area.

When I finished I was finally in new fresh clothes and recently cleaned duster-coat. My duster wasn't marked with any symbol, it was my... mark. The mark of anonymity, for me. Which suited me just fine.

One final check of my equipments and I loaded up. I slung the anti-materiel rifle over my shoulder, holstered the weathered 10mm pistol on my hip, and a switch blade to my belt.

I hefted the two sacks of sunset sarsaparilla worth three cases, the other two sacks filled with various bits and bobs of personal loot, and finally a sack filled with 150 .50BMG Incendiary and 150 High Explosive rounds.

I got out, locked the door, and jogged over towards the caravan people.

Upon arriving, I was lightly shocked. I wasn't expecting Cassidy Caravans with Cassidy herself. But it wasn't the time to recruit her, so I just traded with everyone else in there. Including Cassidy of course.

My small talks and haggling all pointed to one thing; I was lucky. They were all leaving in an hour and I got to them before they packed up.

A few questions and chatting up traders here and there got me their route. They were heading for Sloan and then McCarran then finally after a few days trading with the NCR Sharecroppers, Vegas was their last stop befor going to I-95 to I-93 and then Novac, and straight towards NCR Mojave Outpost. They won't stop by Nipton due to lack of any vacant place all three caravans can take.

Though I asked why three different caravans were going together, they answered me that it was all mutally beneficial and that they do not sell the same products. It was a conversation that allowed me to go join them in their journey to vegas.

My bartering netted me 4,400 caps that I stuffed into a duffel bag. It wasn't enough because I need 48,000 caps for the implants at Usanagi's Clinic. If not, I would be forced to use my NCR bills.

I mostly use NCR bills because of their portability in combat. Caps are just plain cumbersome.

I still don't know why caps became the prominent currency.

A good form of money should be durable, portable, divisible, uniform, has limited supply, and is generally accepted almost everywhere.

Caps are durable, sure.

Portable? In small amounts. In the thousands? Heck no.

Caps are plain indivisible. You try to cut it up even in half, and no one will accept it.

Caps are uniform... NOT! Most of the caps here in the Mojave are Sarsaparilla and whatever else you can get from alchohol. Over in the Capital Wasteland and the Commonwealth, the caps are mainly Nuka-Cola caps. Then there are other forms of caps that comes from different beverages and bottled products. So there is clear separation and kind of caps. What passes as the acceptable bottlecap currency in one place may be shunned in another.

General acceptability... well, I already said it in uniformity of caps... One place may use a specific currency, while another may accept anything. Although some places and establishments may just scream: "It ain't familiah!" and if you push to use it as your payment... well, you might just find out why this is a post-apocalyptic wasteland.

Limited in supply... caps are somehow limited in supply, yes. But there's other people who can just crank up and repair an old soda factory and produce their own bottlecaps. I know the Sunset Sarsaparilla Factory here in New Vegas can be restarted.

But on Commonwealth? Holy hell, you get a fucking Old World Theme Park that can pretty much churn out tons of caps.

So, do I prefer caps? No. I just use it for the sake of conforming to the stupid notion of bottecaps as the post-apocalyptic currency.

...shit, I rambled didn't I?

Oh well.

-Memento Mori-

Sunny kissed me again.

"You'll come back, okay? You hear me?"

"Yes, yes. But before I go, I need to clear up this thing between us. What are we?"

"...I don't know."

"Well... We certainly liked each other in bed, but is this romantic or physical attraction?"

Sunny remained silent, contemplating my words.

"I'm physically attracted to you. I'm emotionally invested too, but I don't think it's deep enough to be called romantic. And whenever you're in danger, I will help you."

"Even from a deathclaw?"

"Even a deathclaw."

She kissed me again. This time, her smile was worth her last name; Sunny Smiles.

"Okay." she said and gave me a hug that I returned. "Here's your key," I pecked her lips, "and I left some Sunset Sarsaparilla and bullets you can sell if you ever need the caps." I stepped away and looked at her one last time.

We both gave each other a nod and a smile, it was enough.

I went through the door and went for Vegas.

-Memento Mori-

SPECIAL:
Strength: 7
Perception: 7 + 1
Endurance: 7
Charm: 7
Intelligence: 7
Agility: 7
Luck: 7

Item(s):

[Weapon]:
-10mm Pistol (E)
-Anti-materiel rifle
-Switch blade

[Armor]:
-Courier Duster (Unmarked) (E); + ?
-Desperado Cowboy Hat (E); +1 Per
-Merc Adventurer Outfit (E); +2 Melee, +2 Guns

[Aid]:
-Assorted Medication (2)
-Caravan Lunch (3)
-Doctor's Bag
-Med-X (4)
-Mentats (3)
-Purified Water (3)
-Stimpack (23)

[Misc]:
-Sunset Sarsaparilla Crate

[Ammo]:
-.50 MG, Armor Piercing (80)
-.50 MG, Standard (80)
-10mm (64)