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So. I came up with this idea on a whim and decided I should make it for the hell of it. This is my first time making a CYOA, so pardon if the individual posts are long-winded. Now, there may be minor Fallout: New Vegas spoilers, such as character references or locations, later on, so you've been warned.
With that, let's begin!
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Lots of caps. That's what Cheryl had been promised when she was given this job. Now here she was, trekking up I-15 towards New Vegas, protecting some merchant who couldn't keep his eyes to himself. He had had one customer out in the middle of nowhere earlier today, bought every ounce of spare ammo they had, then took off, wearing some weird blue jumpsuit. Cheryl wished she could come and go as she pleased, but she was stuck guarding this half-wit.
They had been traveling all day, and when nightfall came, they stopped off at some old highway patrol station, that had long been abandoned since the war. She took the spare time inside to make use of the still-intact bathroom mirror and at least try to straighten her scarlet hair. The beating sun was not kind to a girl like her, and it was showing. She looked down at her clothing to make sure it was at least presentable, a set of leather-padded armor designed to stop weaker-caliber firearms and most types of sharp objects, and equipped with a few pockets for ammunition and other essentials a caravan guard like her would need. She also looked over her weapon, a nine millimeter pistol, pretty much the only weapon she could get her hands on back home, but it had served her well in keeping her alive. Upon looking back up, she sighed and began to speak to herself. "Cher. What have you gotten yourself into now? Protecting some lech from raiders that probably aren't even here, in the middle of a desert?" she asks herself, staring into her own hazel eyes, then exits the restroom, and turns to see the merchant sleeping soundly in one of the cots inside the built-in prison, sighing and leaning against the wall inside the door, keeping her eyes on the room she's in and her ears on the room behind her.
Several hours passed, and before she could fully doze off, Cheryl heard a noise in the room behind her. She froze, and waited. She heard a different noise, this sounding like flesh on flesh contact, followed by hushed whispers. Other people were in the building. More noise, this time sounding like a tin can clattering across the floor, and footsteps sounding like they were approaching her door. There must be at least two people, but she couldn't tell for sure. But she had to do something.
Votes:
With that, let's begin!
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Lots of caps. That's what Cheryl had been promised when she was given this job. Now here she was, trekking up I-15 towards New Vegas, protecting some merchant who couldn't keep his eyes to himself. He had had one customer out in the middle of nowhere earlier today, bought every ounce of spare ammo they had, then took off, wearing some weird blue jumpsuit. Cheryl wished she could come and go as she pleased, but she was stuck guarding this half-wit.
They had been traveling all day, and when nightfall came, they stopped off at some old highway patrol station, that had long been abandoned since the war. She took the spare time inside to make use of the still-intact bathroom mirror and at least try to straighten her scarlet hair. The beating sun was not kind to a girl like her, and it was showing. She looked down at her clothing to make sure it was at least presentable, a set of leather-padded armor designed to stop weaker-caliber firearms and most types of sharp objects, and equipped with a few pockets for ammunition and other essentials a caravan guard like her would need. She also looked over her weapon, a nine millimeter pistol, pretty much the only weapon she could get her hands on back home, but it had served her well in keeping her alive. Upon looking back up, she sighed and began to speak to herself. "Cher. What have you gotten yourself into now? Protecting some lech from raiders that probably aren't even here, in the middle of a desert?" she asks herself, staring into her own hazel eyes, then exits the restroom, and turns to see the merchant sleeping soundly in one of the cots inside the built-in prison, sighing and leaning against the wall inside the door, keeping her eyes on the room she's in and her ears on the room behind her.
Several hours passed, and before she could fully doze off, Cheryl heard a noise in the room behind her. She froze, and waited. She heard a different noise, this sounding like flesh on flesh contact, followed by hushed whispers. Other people were in the building. More noise, this time sounding like a tin can clattering across the floor, and footsteps sounding like they were approaching her door. There must be at least two people, but she couldn't tell for sure. But she had to do something.
Votes:
A) Try to find the enemies in the dark, and start shooting.
B) Stay still and try to sneak past them.
C) Other. (Try and describe what you think Cheryl should do.)
B) Stay still and try to sneak past them.
C) Other. (Try and describe what you think Cheryl should do.)
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