#Benny is my dad and I can’t wait to shoot a khan and Mr house for our future

[dykedvonte]

Yes-Man resents a lot of things but I feel like he kinda liked Benny. It’s never implied Benny had the knowledge to continuously upgrade or update him after Emily so I like to think Yes-Man respected Benny enough to adopt some of his opinions willingly.

Like personality wise, Yes-Man is like if Benny was forced to be a kiss ass; he’s equally pointed and jerky even if unendingly helpful. No matter if you spare the Great Khans, Yes-Man dislikes them and is kinda violent about things. What this says about Benny and the way he talked about things behind the scenes is one thing but the other is Yes-Man ingrained it enough to keep it.

I can imagine Benny mentioning Vegas was for them and while Yes-Man is logical, as any machine would be, I think it’s sweet if the personable part of his programming was looking forward to running Vegas with his “creator”.

[lavellane]

11 for an oc of your choice :-)

11. your OC’s description of their game’s events

Dear Aisling,

(And Mom) (And Edith) (And Uncle Callahan) (And Jamie and Susie)(The triplets will probably want to read this too, right?) (Hi everyone)

So - the elephant in the letter room. I know you’re mad – real mad, probably. I can’t really say I blame you – all the unanswered letters, the vague replies, the months I’ve spent away. I’ve taken some time trying to figure out how exactly to go about this – do I spend a paragraph on the apology, or a page, or do I mention it in passing and save the grovelling for when I’m home? Well, I think given the state of things, I might … pepper in my apologies, while I finally try explain myself. I know I owe you (all) an explanation. I’m sorry you’ve had to wait until now to get it from me.

So, basically (Aisling, can you please make sure Mom and Susie sit down?) (I’m asking you because I know they won’t do it if I ask them myself) I got shot in the head.

I’m sorry!

Now, don’t worry! (Mom, PLEASE don’t worry) I’m fine. The man who shot me, Benny, he … well, he wasn’t a great shot, as it happens. He aimed point blank at my head (Mom, I’m okay!) and somehow still only managed to graze just above my ear (Mom, I still have my ear. I’m alright). Didn’t stop him from trying to bury me, though (Mom, I swear to you I’m just fine.) I woke in a town called Goodsprings, in the home of the doctor who stitched me up before I bled out (Aisling, check Mom, please. Maybe you could all take a quick five minute break here?).

Anyway, long story shot, the package I was set to deliver was gone. Taken, I’d assumed, by Benny. I KNOW what you’re thinking – why didn’t I come back home after all of this? Well, I didn’t want to come back empty handed. We needed the caps.

I’m sorry.

I spent a good month or so travelling around towns and settlements in the Mojave. I hated it, but Aisling, I think it might suit you despite all the deathclaws. Met a lot of people – most of them weren’t all that fond of me, but some reminded me of home. Good people. My travels led me to New Vegas, were I met a Pre War Millionaire who had uploaded his consciousness into a giant terminal and was controlling the city with an army of Securitrons, and a group of powerful families who may or may not have been cannibals.

Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.

Turns out this man, or machine, or . . . Turns out “Mr. House" was the client I was supposed to deliver for. Said the package was a platinum chip – or, more accurately, a key to full control over New Vegas’ securitron army. Anyone with the key was king, essentially.

At this point, I really didn’t feel like I could turn him away even if I wanted to. I owed him, I guess. Needed to make it right for losing his chip in the first place. I’m sorry.

I confronted Benny (politely!). He got away. I got shot at, again (I’m FINE, Mom!) and then he got captured by Caesar’s Legion. (You know the stories, Uncle Callahan. Turns out they’re ever worse than anything you could’ve told me.)

With some help, I managed to get into the Legionnaire camp (awful), met Caesar (awful) and freed Benny (still awful), somehow escaping with my life in the meanwhile. He must’ve decided not to risk shooting at me again, because he gave me the chip and that was that. Small mercies, I suppose.

I guess seeing the state of things with the Legion, their cruelty and mercilessness, has put some things into perspective. Up until this point I’d been helping out Mr House, mostly because I thought it to be the right thing. It’s his property, after all - and I was hired to bring it to him. But, seeing Caesar’s people up close … slavers and murders and rapists alike … I don’t think I can just sit by anymore. What kind of brother would I be if I didn’t do everything in my power to keep people like that from living in the same world as my sisters? What kind of son would I be?

I’m fighting the Legion. I’m going to keep fighting the Legion. I’m sorry.

I ended up giving the chip to that new West Coast group, the NCR. I’m still not fully sure what the think of them, but they’re trying to make the world safe, more secure, and if nothing else, I want that for you all. Especially now. So many of my months now have been spent helping people, forging alliances and friendships with all sorts – the Khans, the Brotherhood of Steel (Dad would’ve been so impressed by their bunker, Aisling), a group of demolition experts calling themselves Boomers, and even a group of friendly supermutants! (I’m okay, Mom. Promise.)

As for how it all ended, well … that’s the thing. The big thing. The reason I’m writing this now, as opposed to before, or later. This infighting with New Vegas and the NCR and Legion … it’s not over yet. There’s still one more thing to do, one more fight, one that I’m not entirely sure I’ll live through.

I’ll be okay. Once this is over, I’m coming home – and I’m coming home with enough caps to save us. But in case I don’t make it back I love you all, and miss you all. But this is something I need to see through to its end. I can’t keep looking the other way anymore. I have to be better, for all of your sakes.

I’m sorry.

Aisling, take care of Mom for me until I get back. Mom, try not to worry too much while I’m gone. Uncle Callahan, say hello to Holiday for me.

All my love,

Winston.

(PS. Mom, I know you’re angry, but if it makes you feel any better, I’ve also met someone. His name is Butch - he’s a Vault Dweller from Washington. I thought . . . maybe I could bring him with me when I finally come home. I think you’ll like him.)