#leroy clayton ncr courier

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Counting Caps

Written for Yeehawgust 2024 - @yeehawgust - Day 6 - Fool's Gold

Julia, Courier six, sits and counts her caps while her team sleep.

~~~~~

She couldn’t sleep, it had become an issue since taking a bullet to the brain.

Cap after Cap, Julia sorted them into piles of 10 organised by type. She knew they’d all get mixed up once back in the bag she kept them in but it felt right to organise them. Several piles of Nuka-Cola caps dwarfed the sarsaparilla caps, which had a separate small pile beside them of blue star bottle caps. 

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It's Always Greener on the Other Side

Written for Yeehawgust 2024 - @yeehawgust - Day 2 - Greener Pastures

Julia dies.

~~~~~~

A gunshot echoed through the camp.

Nobody spoke.

A gargled, “huh-” left Julia lips as they fell.

Their body hit the dirt.

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Late Nights

Written for Yeehawgust 2024 - @yeehawgust - Day 8 - Prancing in the Moonlight

Julia can't sleep, it's been a problem since she took a bullet to the brain outside Goodsprings. Leroy, someone who's known Julia for years, does the only thing he knows that will help her and when out of stories to tell opts for a game of tag.

~~~~~

Leaning against the railing outside the old motel room in the light of the moon, Leroy and Julia had shared stories together for nearly an hour. Well, Leroy had been telling stories about his time in the NCR, his childhood, everything but his time with Julia before she was shot. She had been listening intently, laughing at his jokes, enthralled in his stories. 

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How it Started

Yeehawgust 2024 - @yeehawgust - Day 1 - On the Road Again

It was warm. She never thought death would be warm. She’d spent a lifetime around the dead and they were always cold. But maybe her afterlife was warm. Maybe this was Hell. She didn’t think Hell would be so comfortable. Whatever she was laid on was comfortable.

A feeling began to spread from their forehead. It was dull at first but as her body began to respond to her it became unbearable. Her hand reached up to the source of the pain, only to meet with fabric. 

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Leaving the NCR

Written for Yeehawgust 2024 - @yeehawgust - Day 3 - Break Away from the Herd

Leroy, an experienced NCR Ranger, got shot in the lag and Julia, a Mojave Express Courier, goes and sees him.

~~~~~

Once the package had been left with the required person she had one more stop to make in the camp before she left. 

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Partners for Life

Written for Yeehawgust 2024 - @yeehawgust - Day 12 - Partners for Life

Five times Julia and Leroy were there for each other and one time they weren't.

~~~~~

He noticed a girl moving around amongst the tents.

She couldn’t have been any older than him. Her coppery coloured hair tied back out of her face that was speckled with freckles, large glasses over her eyes and a bag draped over her shoulder weighed down with something, he assumed it was books.

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Came Up Snake Eyes

Written for Yeehawgust 2024 - @yeehawgust - Day 11 - Snake Eyes

Julia walks into the saloon after having waking up in the Doctors office. Leroy has been staying there waiting for her to walk in. He didn't know what to expect.

~~~~~

Leroy had been watching the door for a week, waiting for her to come through. Dreading the moment the doctor came through and broke him the bad news. He knew no one else believed she would make it.

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Making Camp

Written for Yeehawgust 2024 - @yeehawgust - Day 17 - Making Camp

Julia pushes herself too far on a journey luckily Leroy was there to stop her from doing too much damage.

~~~~~

A night's chill settled over the desert. The cold light of the moon fought off the darkness. Everything was still.

Well almost everything was still. Along one of the worn roads that had faced two centuries of natures abuse, a couple of figures walked with a small floating robot at their side.

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New Boot Goofin'

Written for Yeehawgust 2024 - @yeehawgust - day 16 - New Boot Goofin'

Julia, Courier Six, and Leroy, her oldest friend, return to the Mojave Outpost after completing a job for Ranger Jackson and get their reward.

~~~~~

He and Julia had been on the road together longer than they were willing to admit since they’d picked up the job to clear the road north for Ranger Jackson. The only reason they hadn’t done it earlier was Julia’s fierce determination to find Benny. With him found, the pair had backtracked to some of the jobs they’d picked up early on. 

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Trick Shot

Written for Yeehawgust 2024 - @yeehawgust - Day 7 - Trick Shot

Julia and Leroy, the Courier and a former NCR Ranger, take some time for themselves in the ruins and Leroy decides to show off.

~~~~~~

Silence fell across the ruins.

Nothing seemed to move.

The buildings were holding their breaths.

A gunshot echoed off the walls.

“Told you I could hit it.”

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Yeehawgust 2023 - Day 18

Red Rock Canyon

Jules was out. They had been shot by the bounty hunters. 

Leroy had picked them up. He carried them across the wastes. They needed to get them to a doctor, or the next best thing. With the followers being pushed out of Vegas, and Arcade only knowing so much about medicine, he had only one idea left. They were near enough to this group that he could risk moving Jules there without fear of them dying in transit. 

Izzy had gone silent, they felt useless. He didn’t know anything about medicine and didn’t know the wastes. 

As the group made their way into the canyon, Boone stayed back. Not wanting to overstep more than Leroy’s request for help already would. The Great Kahn’s hated Boone for his involvement in the Bitter Springs Massacre, and they had harsh feelings towards Leroy for convincing them to leave then putting the NCR in power in Vegas. 

The red of the canyon seemed darker to leroy. Maybe it was his guilt over what he’d done. It didn’t matter, he just had to hope there was still someone there with the drugs they needed. 

“Hello?” Leroy’s voice bounced off the walls.

The exhaustion was beginning to kick in. His arms could have fallen off but he wouldn’t have cared. He was going to save Jules. 

As they reached the entrance of the camp, he saw the signs of a camp ready to move. No signs of the NCR, but the Brahman led caravans were filled with tents and such. Leroy found a rock to lay Jules against. Giving his arms just a moment to relax. He nodded to Izzy, silently asking for them to go find someone to help them. 

Izzy understood enough, running ahead towards the caravans. They found someone, a man with spiked hair. Izzy could tell people had been staring at them, he took one last breath running how he was going to ask this stranger for help through his head. 

“Excuse me, I’m in a rush. My friend got shot and we need medical help. Anything.” 

The stranger turned around, looking over Izzy once, then gesturing to someone nearby. “This one needs help.” He turned to Izzy, “Where’s your friend?” 

“Just back up there.” Izzy pointed. 

The stranger nodded,  Izzy ran back to the others. 

“Someone’s coming to help.” 

Jules looked bad, being held by Leroy. Arcade had tied some cloth around Jules’ shoulder. Without their Jacket they couldn’t hide their malnourishment. Two of the people Izzy had found, made their way over with Med-X and Stimpaks. 

They saw to Jules, silently. A couple others came over. Leroy was suddenly uncomfortable. He knew Jules was in good hands. Arcade helped out the Khans as best as he could. He could see the tension in the air as Papa Khan walked over, observing Leroy and the rest of them. The wasteland knew about Leroy’s apparent crime, about the death of the young doctor he was travelling with. 

Jessup had sorta liked Jules. Nothing romantic, they were just decent company about camp. Someone who knew the right amount of questions to ask. He was hurt when he realised it was Jules who’d died. But there they sat. Not quite dead, definitely not as dead as everyone thought. He watched as his fellow khans helped them back to health.

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Stupid question here, is Jules gender-fluid?

Yes.

It's one of those thing I kept forgetting to put at the top of my posts, but yes

Jules is Gender Fluid (they/she/he)

And I know you didn't ask about my other ocs but it makes sense to clarify in one post.

Izzy (Icarus) is trans Masc (he/they)

Leroy's cis (he/him)

Dana is cis (she/her)

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Yeehawgust 2023 - Day 16

Prairie Fire

The campfire crackled with life as the desert slept. Sat comfortably around the flames, the group had been sharing stories. Jules regaled about how they had helped take down President Eden, a story Leroy, Boone, and Arcade had heard a version of before. Izzy awkwardly discussed the Crimson Raiders, keeping details sparse and refusing to give more than he said. Arcade and Boone both stayed quiet, neither wanting to share their past. Arcade had been surprised at the new pair's willingness to tell tails, though he supposed that they wanted to remember the worlds they apparently came from. 

Leroy had been the last to share a story. He’d been hesitant at first. His military stories were dull and the group already knew how the occupation of Vegas was going, along with his involvement in it all. His memory of before joining the NCR military had been patchy at best. He was prepared to settle on not regaleing the group with tales of his life, when a memory surfaced in his mind. One he hated that he’d forgotten. 

“You don’t have to tell a story if you don’t want to.” Jules piped up from across the fire, her face alight with the fire. Their eyes a steady storm of curiosity that they tried to tame, an attempt to alleviate any pressure for him to tell his tale. But he knew better than to let Jules sit with curiosity beneath the surface. 

“No, it’s fine. I’ve got something. It’s sad though.” 

“If you’re comfortable with sharing, we’re all ears.” 

“Well, this starts out East. Further East than the Legion, though not as far as where you herald from.” And so he began his tale, a story no one had heard before. 

Young Leroy sat there, on the stump of a tree. He had been waving a stick around, pretending he was a fighter like his father. The stick was a pistol, then a rifle, then a sword. The grass, up to his waist, was a forest from his fathers stories. He was just beyond the walls of the family’s farm. He knew of the major dangers created by radiation, blowflies, radscorpions, ghouls. 

“Leroy. Get back inside the wall.” His mother called. 

While his father was a fighter, at 10 Leroy had not been privy to the details of his fathers work, his mother kept the farm. With a strong arm and a stern voice she kept all the workers in line, and did her best to keep young Leroy from wandering off into trouble. 

The farm itself was small, a simple mutfruit and brahman farm. Nothing like the farms they passed when going to the local settlements to trade. They were large, with over 10 people working out in them. The farms that had more than one field for growing. His mother had always said those farms were far too big for the arrangement they had. Their farm was just big enough to provide for themselves during a drought but grant enough for decent trade in the better years. 

He had been set to inherit that farm. Until it was lost. 

The attack had come from everywhere. His father had been nowhere in sight. His mother had handed him a gun and ordered him to run. And he did. His mother was on his heels, taking down any of the sorry souls that tried to follow them. She had been just as good of a shot as his father, perhaps better. Not that either of them would admit that. 

When Leroy looked back at his home, he saw nothing but fire consuming all he had known. His childhood died that day. Only 10 years old, and forced to grow up in a way he didn’t understand. 

His mother insisted they were lucky to have stumbled across his father in the nearest settlement. She had frantically explained what had happened. That the farm hands were somewhere, likely dead. That the new hire had sold out the farm to some lowlife raiders. Throughout the explanation Leroy sat, thinking about everything that was in the house. He couldn’t understand why they couldn’t go back. 

His father had said he could buy them passage on a caravan, get them out west. That if they could get to NCR territory they’d be able to buy land and protection for it. He had so much hope for the NCR, it bled into Leroy’s mother and then to Leroy, himself. Leroy had grown up on the road, and felt safest when travelling. Joined the NCR military to pay them back for giving his family hope after the prairie burned. 

Tears brimmed in his eyes. Reflecting the fire. His eyes saw nothing but the fire. His mind saw nothing but the irony of what the NCR had done. He hadn’t seen Jules sit beside him, or that everyone had settled down, getting the much needed rest. 

“It’s okay.” Her voice cut through his thoughts. They were exhausted and he could tell, but they had purposefully kept himself awake to hear Leroy’s story. He couldn’t help but shed a tear for the Jules he had lost. 

With the fall of the first tear came a stream. He couldn’t see, all he could hear were his sobs, all he felt were the tremors as emotion flooded through him. He hadn’t mourned in so long. 

Jules pulled him into a hug, saying nothing but just being there. Their shoulder dampened as he let go of all the emotion he had been holding onto. He didn’t let go, grateful for someone who was just there, holding him. He knew that their friendship wasn’t permanent. They would return to their world, go back to their life. Leroy would be nothing but a blip in their timeline. 

But they were together in this moment. Holding each other. He didn’t let go. As his father had his mother that day.

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Yeehawgust 2023 - Day 15

Desert Rose

Izzy held the recorder close, the only part of their echo that was still working at this point, as they examined the flower before them. 

A small thing. Vibrant and outlandish against the sea of brown. A delicate thing that had captured his interest. Flowers of such delicacy were rare in deserts. A rose like this was to be documented. The wasteland, in all its harshness, still had something nice to offer. Almost Beautiful. 

This small thing of wonder was a few yards away from where they had set up camp for the night, close enough for Izzy to still be in sight of the camp but far enough away that he was alone, and so Izzy decided to complete a voice log for it. Sitting on the dirt, just centimetres from it they started the recorder. 

“I’ve found this thing. It’s a flower, a delicate thing. Don’t know much about it. It’s a vibrant red colour. A kind I’ve never seen before. It looks almost out of place round here. It’s weird to think that in the deserts of Pandora I wouldn’t bat an eye at something as simple as this. A rose. But out here, it’s hard to ignore. Pandora’s deserts can be empty, but nothing like this. Other than ruins, there’s really nothing out here. I don’t think I could make it out here alone, Then again I made it in the tundra alone all those years ago so, who knows. It’s nice to have company. Even if I can’t always trust them.

“They’re nice enough, but Leroy seems-”

“Leroy seems what?” Izzy hadn’t seen them approach. At the sudden arrival of him, a blade was against his throat and his coat was bunched in their hand. 

“Shit. Don’t,” Izzy lowered the blade, “don’t do that to me.” 

“Understood.” Izzy dropped the coat, Leroy ran a hand down it. “Didn’t answer my question though. What do I seem to you?” 

“Paranoid and obsessed.” Izzy replied without hesitation. 

Leroy, unfazed despite having had a knife at his throat, gave a subtle quizzical look towards Izzy. “Paranoid I get, having a bounty on your back does that to folk. But I ain’t obsessive.”

Izzy pointed towards the rose, “When you see this what’s the first thing that comes to mind?”

Leroy looked at the flower. It was vibrant, resilient, stood strong despite the harsh environment around it. It had adapted, been forced to change and be shaped by the world around it. It was beautiful, not despite these things, but because of them. It stood out amongst the wasteland’s flowers as a shining example of what all the flowers should be like. It was rare. It was stunning. It was Jules. 

When he saw the flower he first thought of the Young, quick witted genius he’d spent the better part of his ventures getting to know. The shining jewel that had stayed in Goodsprings just to make sure he was okay. They didn’t even know him then. It was a morbid curiosity that had kept Jules in that town that week. 

“Leroy!” Izzy’s voice cut through his thoughts. Dragging him back into the moment. Reminding him of his question. 

“It-” how could he admit it reminds him of Jules, both his and the one who was currently sat by the campfire, “that it’s interesting.” he settled on. 

“Like Jules?” Izzy had read him like a book. He knew that. Reading people was one thing he was really good at. He could tell Izzy had read him cover to cover and seen all the subtext they needed to. “She was your desert rose.” 

Leroy thought about that. Jules had been. She had been strong and adapted quickly to the way of the Mojave. And yet they had stayed strong to their morals. Gone against a collective better judgement for them. Jules had been as curious and fascinating as that small flower. Jules had stood out, and felt no shame for it. Even the Jules that he didn’t know, they had this way of being seen. They had adapted to the wasteland, albeit in a more similar way to himself more than his old partner. 

Jules had been his Desert Rose. What a cute nickname that could have been.

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Yeehawgust 2023 - Day 11

Wicked Horns

Word Count - 392

Izzy’s Echo log day, why do I bother numbering these. 

Today I found out what a deathclaw is. Big, mean, angry things. Nearly destroyed ED-E, the small robot we’ve been running with. Still don’t know what he is, not been allowed near him for long enough to have a look. 

Back to the deathclaws. They’re giant dinosaur looking things with all the anger of a Bullymong. I’ve no doubt Hammerlock would find them fascinating. No one knows where they come from, all they know is that they’re big, mean and scary. We weren’t even supposed to encounter them. Jules and Leroy were arguing about directions and where was best to go and this thing just appeared behind us. Boone tried his best to get some distance between himself and it before he fired, both Arcade and ED-E opened fire from where they were standing. I’ve been trusted with a pistol which didn’t seem to scratch the beast. Leroy pulled out his shotgun, a pump action in 12 gauge if I had to guess. Jules had yelled for us all to get some distance between us and it, grenade rifle in hand. 

Easier said than done. Deathclaws are fast. In all the chaos Arcade went down, so did ED-E. 

When the deathclaw saw me it sprinted towards me. It’s claws out, ready to swipe me in half. I fired all the ammo I had into the beast, it didn’t slow down. It barely hesitated. 

Jumping back with all my strength. The claw raked across my chest. Ripping the shirt and causing mild bleeding. Still hurts right now, but it shouldn’t be too bad. Jules is quite adept with a medi-kit. But anyway back to the deathclaw.

After its claws got me, it fell. The forward momentum of its hunt towards me didn’t stop. It fell, and I was mildly stuck beneath said deathclaw for longer than I’d have liked. Apparently we’re lucky that it was alone. Their pack animals. We struggled to take down one of them. 

From beneath it, I got a good view of the horns on this thing. Massive curved things the size of my forearm, unlike anything I've seen before. Apparently the size of the horn is a way of telling the deathclaws age. This one was an adult. 

My chest still kills so Imma call it a day. 

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Yeehawgust 2023 - Day 10

Neon Moon

The moon shone into our dusty little derelict we called a camp, casting long shadows across the foyer. A gripping cold had consumed the room. Izzy had insisted he didn’t need to wrap up, before curling up beneath my coat. Boone had settled against a wall, seemingly impervious to the cold night of the desert. With his shades still on it was impossible to know if he was truly asleep or not. Arcade had stayed up longest, tending to the small fire but he got tired and laid down on the bedroll Leroy had brought with him. ED-E had entered a low-power mode but kept a watch. Leroy himself perched by the window, smoking and watching the stars. The radio on his Pipboy quietly playing music.

From where I sat, against the wall opposite the door, he seemed calm. This seemed the most relaxed as he had been in all our travels. He held a hip flask in his left hand. His coat was at his side, though he still had his hat on. He had been muttering under his breath over the course of the last hour. If he knew I was awake, he didn’t care. He looked content. The moon illuminated his weathered features. Beneath the old hat, his hair had been let down, reaching just below the shoulders. 

As I sat, my mind wandered more and more. If he was Courier Six in this timeline was he responsible for the divide? Did he remember? How did the other me meet him? I pull the thin blanket further round me, not out of cold but an attempt to ground myself back into this world. I began to pick at my nails, needing something to do with my hands. Pent up energy needed to be released, so I shook my hands and bounced my leg. 

“You know, generally when folks try to pretend to sleep they stay still.” Leroy mused from the window, his eyes settled on the moon. 

I stood and put my glasses on, walking over to him with the blanket left in a heap by the wall. 

“And how would you know that?” 

“Spend enough time in an NCR barrack, you end up learning a lot.” 

Pulling one of the boxes over, I sat beside him and followed his gaze out of the window. Looking him in the eye might reveal the truth about him, but I couldn’t stand the thought of it. He watched me as I studied the skies. My vest top, jeans and boots expose more of the story told through scars than I would ever have exposed myself. The burns down my left arm and up my back, from an attack with a flamethrower in my youth. Several smaller scars that had faded but not disappeared. The line that followed my spine, a similar one along my chest, both poked over the top of my top. My hair, which had started to grow back while I was in Big MT, tried to cover the scar from having my brain removed. Failed at covering the symbol of our shared history. A scar that had been fading, but that everyone could see. The identifier of Courier Six. 

He was reading my story through my scars, considering them against his own. 

Trying to ignore him, I watched the sky. It was the same as the sky I had spent countless nights staring into. Trying to assign the same symbolism and significance to the constellations that ancient cultures had. I thought back to the conversations with Raul about the sky, his comment that the stars hadn’t changed in over 200 years. Considering the night I spent, wondering if the figures in the history books contemplated the same moon and stars. I missed home, not just my Mojave but the Capital Wasteland. The people I had left behind when I came to the Mojave. 

“You,” Leroy spoke up, breaking a silence that I hadn’t noticed. “So you were Courier Six in your world?” 

Without turning from the sky, I replied: “Yeah, I took the bullet in the Goodsprings Cemetery. Doc Mitchel patched me up and I ventured out on a revenge quest.”

“Then got caught up in a war you wanted nothing to do with.” His voice took the same soft tone it had when he’d first met me. 

“Yeah. But I helped people, or I tried to. I-” I took a breath, I hadn’t told anyone my story. Everyone I knew, they already knew most of it. Izzy hadn’t asked, not that I’d pried into their life story. “I made a big mistake. Thought it would help people, but- It just got people killed.” 

“I get that.” He joined me in staring out at the sky, the moon bright enough to cast shadows across the desert. Leroy let out a light laugh, “I’m probably the only person who does understand.” 

“Yeah.” 

“You side with the NCR at the Dam?” 

It was a question I hadn’t expected. It made sense for him to ask, him running with the two people who hated the Legion the most (Boone and Arcade) would lead to some awkward conversations that ended with gunshots, if I’d sided with the Legion. 

“Yeah,” I paused for a moment, calculating how to explain my choice. “Kinda.”

“Kinda?” 

“I helped them defend Hoover Dam, but I was working with House for a free Vegas.” I whispered the last bit. It didn’t matter though. He heard me. 

“And that was going to be better than NCR Vegas, how?” 

“I’m not wanted in my world, at least not in Vegas. Might not be allowed into NCR territory ever again but I had no plans of seeing California anyway. In fact avoiding California is a far greater plan.” 

“Cause of your parents?” 

“Me from this world really told you everything, huh?” 

“We were close.” 

I let that sit in the air for a moment. Whoever this other me was, he cared about them. A lot. And then he had lost them and had to take the blame for their death. Any pain he felt would have been exacerbated by me simply being there. 

He changed the subject. “Why’d you side with Mr House?” 

“I thought he’d be the best choice for Vegas. Benny’s idea wasn’t long term, would have left too much of a power vacuum. Vegas would have torn itself apart. I’d have rather died than help the Legion.”

“And the NCR?” 

“They didn’t seem strong enough. Mimicked the old world government too much. People in the Mojave didn’t seem thrilled at the idea of an NCR takeover. I. I didn’t want to support what could have been a majorly disastrous colonial takeover. The people of the Mojave deserved the ability to be independent.” 

“And the NCR wouldn’t offer that.” 

“No, they wouldn’t. Not without strong negotiation. And by the time we got through all the paperwork, there’d be too many troops to hold our own against. So that leaves House. He seemed like the only one with a plan. He had the technical superiority to maintain power. But in the end that was the problem. He had too much power. By the time I realised I’d made a massive mistake, it was already too late. The NCR refused to accept my help in gaining allies.” 

“Damn.” He took a swig from the hip flask. Offering it across to me, I shook my head. “Don’t drink?” he questioned. 

“No. Not after…” I let the thought trail off. I still hadn’t fully come to terms with everything that led up to the Sierra Madre, my drunken curiosity that landed me in that nightmare. 

“Okay.” 

“So, Why’d you side with the NCR?” 

“Knew they weren’t the worst. Understood their systems. I thought they were best for the Mojave. Not that I think very highly of the NCR.” He turned into the room, watching the last embers of the fire. “Used to be a Ranger, hence the armour.” He patted his chest piece. “Should have known they were incompetent really. I was too blinded by the sheer incompetence and bloodshed of the Legion, and revenge against Benny and his terrible dress sense.” We both laughed. A genuine, light hearted sound that fought back the cold in the room. “Glad we both agree on that.” 

“His jacket is ugly. I mean, I have it in my collection but it’s itchy.” 

“Tweed man, it’s awful.” 

We smiled at each other, sharing the joke. 

“But anyway, I didn’t go and see House till right before I killed him. By the time I got the chip, I was already part of the war.” 

“I suppose this Mojave is more stable than mine.” 

“Even though you're dead and I’m a wanted man?” 

“Yeah. People seem safer, you’ve got active trade routes bringing supplies to and from the west.” 

“You never did consider yourself first.” I looked at him, the first time I had in this whole conversation. His cheeks were damp. He smiled at me, through his tears. “Sorry, just. I’m gonna go get some air.” With that he stood and stepped out of the door. 

From my perch in the window, I could hear the song that echoed over the radio. 

Blue Moon, 

You saw me standing alone, 

Without a Dream in my heart, 

Without a love of my own,