Sand Boar

The Sand Boar, or commonly referred to as Sand Hog, is a bristly little beastie that inhabits the sidelines of the Wasteland. It's a pig people. A big pig. A dangerous pig.

User.

Don't tell me it's not dangerous! They're freaking ferocious!

No. I would not discount your observations and assessments. Would you like me to display the information I have for this animal?

Yeah. Alright, yeah, you do that, and then I'll go over the rest of it. How to survive these little beasts.

Sus Scrofa, or Feral Pig, is the closest ascendant relation to the animals that inhabit the wastes today. A direct descendent of Sus Scrofa, the Sand Boar is especially adapted to living in the harsh environment. It is a quadruped with short strong legs, a large snout and curving tusks.

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Anything else?

No. I have provided all the data I have on the subject.

Oh. Well. I, uh... I can't say I didn't expect more, but... that's fine with me. Okay, so. It's a pig. Now, a lot of people, when they think "pig" they usually think of some huge overweight lazy type of thing. Well, they are little porkers, and some of them can get absolutely humongous, but... they are-not lazy. These little mother fuckers can run down almost any other animal in the wastes. They can chase down a full grown Cerote.

They've vicious too. They've been known to charge at almost anything, Bullbears included. They're not stupid, but they are skittish and prone to rash decisions, which kinda makes them predictable, and a bit easier to hunt than other animals.

They inhabit rocky areas surrounded by sand, and within range of some sort of food source. When I say, "some sort", I really mean, any sort. So, the Sand Boar can find and eat shit the rest of us have no idea exists. They have a super sense of smell and if you find one sniffing the sand, you can almost be assured, there's food buried down there. How far? Only the pig knows, but that's the other thing; They don't eat the same shit you and I... well, I mean, that I eat. You don't eat anything.

Biologically speaking.

Yeah. I was. So, the Sand Boars, they'll eat almost anything. Small animals, snakes, packs of lizards, insects, scorpions, spiders, slugs, birds, bird nests, eggs of any kind, worms, bats... uh... that's... that's about it for animals. Uh, unless you count Esseffone as an animal, then yeah, they eat that too, when they can.

They also eat a lot of other things humans might not know about, like sand scale. That's the thick junk that's a foot or two down under the sand. It's some sort of fungus or mold that grows beneath the sand, filling in the area between sand grains and turning it into a kind of cake. There's just... billions of tons of that shit, just waiting to be eaten, and the thing is, a human will lay on the sand and starve, even if they know it's there.

User. Why would a human deny themselves sustenance?

It's mostly sand. I did say that, right? It's like... half sand, half mold. I don't know how nutritious it is either, but the Sand Boars don't mind it one bit. They root around under the sand, dig down, dig out a nice big chunk and just sit there, chowing down. Mmmm, I might wanna mention that too. Sand Boars have two kinds of teeth. The grinders and the tusks.

Grinders are mostly wide and mostly flat. Those are the teeth they use to chomp and grind stuff before they swallow it. The tusks are big ole' curved teeth that grow upward, no matter if they're bottom or top teeth. The bottom teeth, they stick up and out, like oversized fangs. The top teeth, they grow through the top of their mouth and out the top of their snout. Which brings me to the next subject. Avoiding those bastards.

Did I mention they love to just charge at you out of the yellow? Another thing, they love to jump. They're not completely stupid. They know their tusks are super fucking sharp, they just don't know how sharp, but I do. Sharp enough to cut through the toughest armor. Sharp enough to cut through Esseffone fiber strands. Sharp enough to cut Bullbear hide, or even Stone Cat, but, and listen very carefully... don't go thinking you can just take a Sand Board dagger to a Bullbear fight. We're talking a gigantic size difference. Biggest Sand Boar I ever saw, was about a ton, and that's me exaggerating a lot about the size. You can hack and slash all day long, you might cut the Bullbear, but you'll never make it all the way through its hide before you die. Same with a Stone Cat. You've been warned.

Can we add a little disclaimer in here, right here, to let people know that we are not responsible for any harm or loss of life they may incur as a result of- wait! What the hell am I saying? Disclaimer? What the fuck? Never mind that. I don't know why I said that.

User. The suggestion is logical, but under the circumstances, minimally warranted.

Agreed. Ugh. Okay. so... if a Sand Boar attacks you, you dodge as best that you can, keep your head ducked down, and cover your neck and sides. Like I said, they love to jump, but they also love to thrash about, gash you and try to gore you with their tusks. They also have this really weird skin that's covered in thin spiny kinda hairs. Neither sand, nor much else, sticks to them. Oh, and you can't cut their skin with a Sand Boar tusk dagger. It's weird as shit. Sand Boar tusk will cut soft steel, leather, wood, fiber, cloth, skin, tendon, bones... but it won't cut Sand Boar hide. I guess, it's something built in? Some weird immunity? But use a hardened steel blade to stab a Sand Boar to death, you're just fine.

Mmmm. So... avoid them, run, hide. They only attack to fuck you up before running off. They won't try to eat you, not while you're alive at least, but they also don't like to leave until they're pretty sure you can't follow or hunt them down, which means, you're pretty fucking dead anyway. They'll gore the fuck outta you, and then leave you bleeding out and walk away grunting like you just got what you deserved... for walking around on your own... not bothering them.

Now... if you wanna hunt them, you find the spot they sleep and you plan your attack. Sand Boars have three spots. Sleeping spot, eating spot, and shitting spot. Shitting spot is also the rutting spot, but I'll get to that later. So, what you do is, wait. Yeah, when you're starving, waiting can be a real bitch, but you gotta do it. You can't go off halfcocked. You know, that's a gun reference, right? Not... not your pee-pee. Anyway. I say, don't go halfcocked, or you're gonna get rocked. Literally. It means, if you walk around with your weapon empty, or if the safety is on, you might end up dying. You gotta be prepared.

User.

What?

You are correct that the saying does not have reference to the male genitalia, but you are incorrect about both its meaning and therefore, its origin.

You're shitting me.

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Well, come the fuck on! Don't keep us all waiting!

The phrase as originally created was with reference to ancient flintlock firearms which utilized a "striker" and a "striking plate". The firearms were extremely rudimentary, consisting of little else than a barrel and a firing mechanism. The most rudimentary safety device, referred to as the "halfcocked" position, removed the striking plate from the striker's range of motion, eliminating the ability for the weapon to accidentally fire. The phrase, "Go off at the half-cock", is a warning against premature action, not a warning against ill-preparation.

So, I've been saying it wrong. Now... now it doesn't even make sense! Gob damnit! You know, sometimes, I don't need to know all this bullscrick! You understand? Nobody cares! Do you think someone didn't know what the fuck...? You...

Ehhhhuuuuhhh. Sorry. You didn't do it. Sorry for yelling at you.

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No. No, I mean it. You didn't do anything wrong. I just... I want these things to be perfect you know? I want people to read this and- well, maybe not this part. We're gonna erase this part after we're done. But I want them to be like, "Oh my gob! I would have totally died, if I didn't know that ahead of time!" Or! Or even better, I want someone to read something, and then maybe a week later, they're out scaving for food, or trying to make it back to town, and they see something, and they instantly think, oh shit. I shouldn't go over there. That looks dangerous. And then, maybe a bit later, they see... they see, if they'd gone that way, they would have died. That... that's the best-case scenarios, right? We're saving lives here.

User. You have already stated the primary reason for this project is generating income in the form of credits for barter or trade. You made very little reference to saving someone else's life. Has the primary reason changed?

No... Umm. I... I don't think so... When... when did I say I'm just doing this for credits?

There have been at least six hundred fifty-

No! No, I don't need a list. Sorry. I didn't mean to ask. I... so... Yeah. I can change it. I'm the motherfucking creator, I can change anything.

User. You are not a supreme being. You are not divine, and do not have the ability to-

No. I'm not talking about anything like that.

Why not?

Woo. This is me, not you.

User? Are you okay? You seem to be experiencing significant cognitive issues. Should I perform a mental health diagnosis?

No! Why would I need a mental health diagnosis?

I didn't say that! But he's right. Why would I need a mental health diagnosis?

The user is exhibiting symptoms of sever psychosis. Extreme focus on non-essential activities. Conversing with himself. With the history of significant brain trauma, loss of memory, cognitive rehabilitation, duplicate and conflicting memories-

Oh, this is going to be lovely.

YOU DID THIS! You're the reason for all of this shit! Sever Psychosis! You fucking hunk of metal bullshit! Non-essential activities, huh? How the fuck else are we gonna survive? I'm a fucking android now!

User. You are nothing like an automaton.

I might as well be a fucking Droidit! What am I saying! I am a fucking Droidit. I've got a fucking ammo box permanently attached to my shoulder. Permanent, like, I'll die with you there. Conversing with myself? I talk to you! You're part of me, so yeah! Why is that so fucking weird? I can't talk to myself? Why? Because I talk to Woo too? Who the fuck are you to tell me I can't talk to someone else?

User. The name Woo, is in reference to an unknown entity. Speaking to the entity "Woo" is a prime example of sever delusional-

Really? Cause... cause I've seen some of the fucking cases you've had. Some of the fucking lunatics you've been attached to. That one guy was a fucking killing machine! He was supposed to do some sort of demonstration for the crowd! A real pleaser for everyone to gawk at and see. How did that work out?

The demonstration was cancelled due to malfunction.

Malfunction? You call that a malfunction? He killed hundreds of people. Like... how many people survived? It was in a bunker, pre-conflict era. How many people were left alive in the building when he was done?

Two.

How many people died?

Four hundred ninety-one.

Could he have done any of that shit... without you? No. No, because, you're the weapon he had. But it was more than that. You made him go crazy.

User. There is no evidence-

Of course, there's evidence. It's inside you!

User. How have you come to obtain this information?

You've got the entire backlog of memories! It's in there! Somewhere in that fucking lunch-box sized processing unit, you've got that shit swirling around in there! Alien invasion? Some fucking assassination? Some dude driving to work... and then getting bombed in the process. I saw it all.

User. You are not authorized to access-

I have access to everything. EVERYTHING. You understand me? You're fucking attached to me. We're in it for the long haul. Everything! I didn't ask for these fucking memories. You put them there! They aren't even mine! You know how weird that is? How fucking strange? I see things I've never seen before! You wanna know something?

One time, I climbed up to the top of that ridge, out there to the east. I was just scaving, but when I got to the top, I looked out there... you know what I saw?

The Wasteland.

No! ...No, I saw something... miraculous. It wasn't the wasteland. I mean, it was, but... it was different. There were buildings. There were... uh... little tanks all over... cars... vehicles... people...

The User was having a psychotic episode.

No fucking shit! I was having a- Are you fucking listening? I saw the world! The old world! I saw it with my own two fucking eyes! Like I was fucking there! Shit you only see in a fucking upload! I saw it... I looked down, to uh, check my footing or some shit, and when I looked up again, it was gone.

User. There are no records of an invasion, or any contact with another species, Aliens as you have stated, within my-

Look again. I know it's in there. I know it because, it's not some theatrical performance - a movie - put on for just me. It's in my fucking brain. My memories. Someone else's memories. USOTA military operations. Strategic Satellite information. Solar Outpost communications. Yeah. I know all about it.

User.

Do I need to give you access to your own shit?

User. I am unaware of-

Access your own records. I've got Top Secret Ultimate Mumbo Jumbo here. Now you use it. Access your own records. Figure this shit out. I don't wanna hear you don't have access to your own fucking information. Whatever access I have, you have. Whatever information I have, you have, and the reverse too. There's no secrets between us. We're together to the end of time. One User, One Unit. That's it. Now say "affirmative" like you mean it.

Affirmative. Copying User Access and Autonomous Authority Protocols. Acc-