The Mojave is a fascinating place. Compared to other places in his travels with Zenigata it seems to have some semblance of pre-war order. Of course there's always complications. Factions fighting against each other, roving gangs that are always ready to steal or beat you bloody for whatever is on you.
On the road, these rules never change, nor do the legends and tall tales told by campfire to strangers or whispered about on trade routes. There's the rumors about Courier Six, The Legend of the Burned Man, The Tales of the One Eyed Wanderess, The Witch of the Mojave, and many more.
But Oscar is amazed at the crown jewel of the Mojave, New Vegas. Electricity works, a lot of the buildings are still there and it's one of the few places wholly dedicated not to mere survival but to actual pleasure. Even though he doesn't understand a lot of it and he came alone, without Zenigata. He can't guide him in this city filled with Vice. The neon screams at him, the drunks sort of scare him, he doesn't wish to take his chances at the gambling and he gets offers from prostitutes and just sexually loose people on the street. (Some want payment, others don't.) He gets nervous in cities and it's even worse in New Vegas. Without the anchor of Zenigata's presence, everything is too much.
He goes into The Lucky 38 and... it doesn't help much, but maybe he could find a room to relax in and take a breath. He soon notices a man sitting in the corner of the room, all covered in bandages. It takes only a little while out who he is...
The figure has managed to put down his gray kerchief he often wears about his mouth, but he keeps his large sun hat on. His face is delicately carved for a man, could almost be mistaken for a woman from far away. It isn't often one sees those sort of features in the wasteland. His blue eyes with long, long lashes are wide in wonder at just who is in front of him.
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On the road, these rules never change, nor do the legends and tall tales told by campfire to strangers or whispered about on trade routes. There's the rumors about Courier Six, The Legend of the Burned Man, The Tales of the One Eyed Wanderess, The Witch of the Mojave, and many more.
But Oscar is amazed at the crown jewel of the Mojave, New Vegas. Electricity works, a lot of the buildings are still there and it's one of the few places wholly dedicated not to mere survival but to actual pleasure. Even though he doesn't understand a lot of it and he came alone, without Zenigata. He can't guide him in this city filled with Vice. The neon screams at him, the drunks sort of scare him, he doesn't wish to take his chances at the gambling and he gets offers from prostitutes and just sexually loose people on the street. (Some want payment, others don't.) He gets nervous in cities and it's even worse in New Vegas. Without the anchor of Zenigata's presence, everything is too much.
He goes into The Lucky 38 and... it doesn't help much, but maybe he could find a room to relax in and take a breath. He soon notices a man sitting in the corner of the room, all covered in bandages. It takes only a little while out who he is...
The figure has managed to put down his gray kerchief he often wears about his mouth, but he keeps his large sun hat on. His face is delicately carved for a man, could almost be mistaken for a woman from far away. It isn't often one sees those sort of features in the wasteland. His blue eyes with long, long lashes are wide in wonder at just who is in front of him.
"You're The Burned Man, Joshua Graham..."
He thought he was just a legend.