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'Good God I hate sandstorms" he muttered as he sat on the rock. He had made a new camp,far away from people,the NCR,and the Legion and the rest of the world. Perhaps he could find himself he felt.
His mind began to wander more. His hand moved to the glowing tags around his neck. His finger over the name,but the rest reads:
DOB: 3/16/2258
Height: 5'/9'' / 1.52m
Weight 180 lbs / 81.6 kg
Blood Type: O-
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Brown
"This is who I am?" he wondered. "Where did I get these tags? I feel like I''ve had them for my entire life." Memories continue to come in spurts. Random flashes The smoke filled his lungs as he closed his eyes. Faces,names,places,all he could see,yet not name. He could feel himself drifting away,as the shemagh fluttered and moved against his face in the sandy winds. He set the cigarette down as it burned away to the filter and allowed himself to drift into the land of demons and nightmares.
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