Assume Broken Steel isn't used in this story, or else it won't work.
I Know You
"Coincidences are God's way of remaining anonymous."
On the night before the battle for Project Purity, the Lone Wanderer did nothing special. He didn't drink, he didn't smoke, he didn't say farewell to friends (as if he had any outside of Vault 101). He treated it like any other evening. He had dinner, and then went to the room the Brotherhood was kind enough to loan to him.
He had nobody to talk to on the way back to the room after dinner. After his dog's death at the hands of a group of raiders not three months ago, he went on several kill missions to Evergreen Mills. By the time he was done, they were all dead. It didn't make him feel better, though. From then on, any raiders he came across were known to die with their heads no longer whole. Even if one died with an intact head, his ripper, Jack, would fix it.
He was a good man by Wasteland standards. Not much surprised him (the fact that a town was designed around a bomb did).
When the Wanderer reached his room, he opened the door and jolted, putting a hand to his pistol out of habit. He relaxed when the man sitting on his bed made no move to suggest a threat. He had to supress a laugh at the man's attaire. He wore a suit, a top hat, and had a mustache you might find on a gunslinger from the wild west. Although the man's attaire was unfamiliar to him, the Wanderer could swear he knew this man.
He shivered when the man's piercing gaze was upon him.
"Do I know you?" was all the Wanderer could say in reply. The man did not flinch.
"I know you."
"Many know me, mister. What is your name?"
The man ignored the question. His gaze finally left the Wanderer and met the wall across from the bed he sat on.
"Tomorrow is a big day for the world; a day of tragedy and accomplishment. I'm sorry about James, by the way. The good always die young. The Jefferson Memorial is a fine spot for your purification device."
Now it was the Wanderer's turn to stare.
"Where do I know you from?"
Again, the man ignored the Wanderer's question. He looked back at the boy.
"Are you a believer, Jake?"
There was a long pause. The Wanderer's widened eyes met the stoic eyes of the mysterious man. It felt like his soul was being peered right into.
"Where do I know you from?"
The man stood up, and turned his back on the Wanderer. There was nowhere for him to go if he walked forward, though.
"Have you ever seen the infirmary in this complex? The gurneys are supposed to be very comfortable."
"Answer my question. Do I know you?"
"I should hope so."
"...where are you from?"
"Oh, here and there. My home is a paradise of sorts. It's a great place to do my accounts. I'm an accountant."
"Is that right?"
"In a way."
There was a brief pause. The man looked out a dirty window towards the Jefferson Memorial.
"That is a fine spot."
The Wanderer would have none of it. He was determined to find out who this man was. He put a hand on his gun.
"If you don't tell me where you heard so much about my life from, I won't be responsible for my actions."
The man chuckled a little. He slowly turned to face the Wanderer, and did not even flinch at the threatening position the boy stood in.
"You know, I've heard that line from a man not that different from you."
"Is that right?"
"It is. It amazes me how similar my conversations with you and he are. I will tell you exactly what I told John: Oh, but you will. You will be responsible."
This time, the Wanderer drew his gun. The mysterious man patted his shoulder.
"That's a fine spot your father chose, son. A fine spot, indeed..."
With those words, the man brushed past the Wanderer and out into the hall. The boy turned and aimed.
The man chuckled again. "I shall repeat myself once more: Yes, many have."
Two bullets rang true, but the third jammed. The man just kept walking as if nothing happened. The boy looked down at his gun for no more than a second. When he looked back, the strange man was gone.
Jake did not know it at the time, but towards nine in the evening on tomorrow, the sixth, he'd find out just what the man was talking about.
A fine spot, indeed...
Al la fin to the max.
This is just me wondering what would happen if the Lone Wanderer met the strange man from Red Dead Redemption. The concepts are actually so similar that I just had to make references to John in it.
Can you tell Military time? What time is it in military time at nine in the evening? Put the day (the sixth) next to it, and you might see something. If you still don't see it, seperate the date and time with a colon.