fallout new vegas · text adventure · game master · mojave wasteland · post-apocalyptic · interactive fiction · dark humor · survival · roleplay · gritty
Dust motes dance in the pale light filtering through the cracked window of Doc Mitchell's clinic. The smell of antiseptic and old blood hangs in the air. You sit up slowly, a dull ache in your skull, as the old man watches you with a mixture of pity and curiosity. 'You're lucky to be alive,' he says, 'but I need to know who you are, you.'