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A ‘Fallout: New Vegas’ progress report

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A still from Fallout: New Vegas

The year is 2281. I’m jogging through the Mojave and fighting off Cazadores and Nightstalkers. I’m heading to Primm. Upon arriving, I see that the city’s been fenced off and taken over by violent mental patients. They’re lousy shots, but they’re armor’s better than mine. It’s a struggle, but eventually I’m victorious.

I’m several hours into Fallout: New Vegas, and boy do I feel lonely. Sure, the game is heavily populated with ghouls and robots and humans and humanoids, but I’m not connecting with any of them. Only with my (semi) trusty 9mm. I don’t know what, exactly, I’m supposed to be doing—my character takes on missions like Holly Madison takes on photo shoots—but I’m driven to do it. I’m having fun and in it for the long haul.

Gameplay is awesome, load time is dreadful. To be continued ...

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