Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This is how I die

I slowly awoke, my head was throbbing, it would hurt a lot worse real soon. My hands were bound. Looking up I see a man in a checkered suit stood with his back to me, the glittering lights of New Vegas far in the distance. He lit his cigarette.

“You got what you were after, so pay up.” He was flanked either side by two
rough looking men, dressed like old world bikers, they looked impatient.

“You're crying in the rain, pally.” The Checkered Devil tapped embers off his cigarette.

“Guess who's waking up over here?” The one to the right of the devil held the shovel like a sledgehammer, like he wanted to use it on me. He shook, sweat dripping down his brow. His veins looked like they were going to blow, Psycho addiction.

“Time to cash out.” The Checkered Devil finally faced me, he was good looking, like an old world actor, what was the show? Companions?

“Will you get it over with!”

The Checkered Devil held up his hand to stop the bilker to the left

“Maybe Khans kill people without looking 'em in the face, but I ain't a fink, dig?” Khans, that’s an old name, hundred year old tribe, reduced to drug runners.

The devil spun his hand, pulling out an oversized platinum poker chip like a stage magician. “You've made your last delivery kid. Sorry you got twisted up in this scene.” He rolled the chip across his knuckles, In a blink the poker chip is replaced with an ivory handled 9mm pistol. A symbol on his hand glowed.

“From where you're kneeling it must seem like an 18-carat run of bad luck.” The devil leveled the gun, I could see the bullet in the barrel, hollow point. “Truth is... the game was rigged from the start.”
-

A story based on my two favorite videogame franchises

Fallout: New Vagus - Outsiders Mark

Chapter Text

I awoke in a bed, my surroundings unfamiliar. IV by my bed, medical gear on the nearby bar, a doctor? I stood up, dressed only in ratty scrubs. I walked around the house, old world, looked like a ranch home, no one home. The house was fully done up like a makeshift hospital, medical equipment strewn all about. How did I get here?

I approached the front door, slowly cracking it open, only to find myself in an empty void. A strange leviathan swam through the air, not quite a whale, something else. Light posts and billboards floated in the air advertising the casinos of the Las Vegas Strip. Tops, Ghamora, Ultra-Luxe, and the Lucky 38. In the distance the tower at the center of New Vegas blinked
softly. I stepped onto the porch bewildered, from the porch onto chunks of asphalt that formed a walkway.

Then he appeared.

He could not be older than 20, maybe 25, short black hair, gaunt features, dressed like a street rat from Victorian London, empty eyes containing the whole universe.

“Courier 6, now 6 feet under. the man who walked the wasteland over a half dozen times, now never to take a step again… unless…”

“Who- what are you?”

“Who I am does not matter, what matters is what was taken from you. your delivery.”

I thought of The Checkered Devil, The Platinum Chip, my chip, my delivery, held in his hand. I remembered the symbol on his hand, circular and sharp. My head burned over my brow as I got a migraine, why can’t I remember anything beyond being shot, not even my name! But I do remember one other thing, the meaning of that brand.

“The Outsider”

“You know of me, then you must know why you are here.”

“Am I dead?”

He vanished, floating rubble moving in the void, creating a walkway in the void leading to a water tower. I followed the path that was made, it led me down, past floating cars and street signs, remnants of bombed out buildings. Then the path took me up, the water tower floating in the void. I saw a grave, a hand sticking you of it, holding a bone disk with The Mark of The Outsider on it. It was my hand.

I took the talisman, and as I did it burned to ash in my grasp, my hand began to burn, I ripped off my glove to see the mark searing into my flesh. I fell to my knees over my grave as The Outsider appeared where the Checkered Devil once stood, the glittering lights of New Vegas far in the distance. He rose his hand mocking the motion of a gunshot aimed at my head.

“That is my mark, and with it, you receive a fraction of my powers. Now, pull yourself up from the grave, and get your revenge. Take back what’s yours.”

I reached down, and took my hand, pulling as hard as I could. As I did the sand rose up around me, I felt myself being buried, all except my hand. I held tight and pulled, I felt myself being pulled up and out of the ground, an unusual robot holding my hand.
“Howdy partner! Sure is a fine evening ain’t it. Let’s get you out of there.”

The moon high behind him, it was a blue moon tonight, I passed out.