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Post by Zelus on Jul 9, 2015 7:43:04 GMT -5
Allen Avenue, D.C. Ruins “The river…?” he’d asked himself, as he knelt there in the dust. With a nod, he agreed. “Sounds alright, shouldn’t be too many of the Lurks that far downstream. So far as I remember there are a few patrols down that way. So as long as we can get down there, we should be safe. It’s just getting there, huh?” He’d only been down that way a few times, but he did remember it being an awful lot safer than anywhere else in the downtown area. He’d be glad to stay in the safe area for a while. They certainly wouldn’t get there by nightfall, and with all the mutants around he wasn’t sure how much longer he wanted to be on the streets. If only someone had decided to secure the metro tunnels. Once someone did that, if they could do that, it would’ve made travelling in DC a whole lot safer. It wouldn’t happen any time soon though. As she pulled out the bottle of water, he watched her for a moment, and gave a small smile as he took the bottle from her. “T-thanks,” he whispered, taking a mouthful. “You’re gonna have to stop giving me your water, you’ll have nothing left.” He joked, before handing it back to her. He took a moment to glance over the concrete wall again, just to make sure he hadn’t been noticed. Letting her get ready, he watched the distant campfire, though he was unable to make out any of the figures in the increasing shadows. They hadn’t been spotted, thankful for the small mercy; Rusty turned back to Shea and gave her a confident nod. “Let’s get out of here,” was his immediate response to her question. Somewhere, D.C. Ruins Having followed her along the street, Rusty kept up, though his mind was on her wounds after noticing them in the light every now and then. She needed to be cleaned up… maybe he could do that for her once they got in some shelter. It’d be the least he could do, all things considering. He paid attention not to stare too long. He knew the feeling of eyes being on him for too long too, so he imagined she would pick up on it. Instead he made sure to look around a bit, trying to get a good handle on the situation. Unfortunately for him, most of the buildings looked the same, almost uniform in a way. Still, some of them were damaged more uniquely than others. Some had vast holes in the walls, others had seemingly fallen on their neighbours and some seemed too gotten off free in the assault. Hopefully he would learn a sense of direction from Shea if he stuck around her for a while. He had a feeling there were quite a number of things she could teach him. As they came across a billboard, Rusty was immediately pleased they’d found something unique to the area. He stopped for a second to look it over. He saw the outline of the bottle of Nuka Cola and cocked his head a bit. He was trying to imagine what it was like it would’ve looked like years ago. Probably a lot more vibrant, he imagined. Rusty soon realised Shea was already moving, and so he turned and followed her quickly. As they walked into the dark alley, Rusty kept his head on a swivel, making sure to keep an ear to their rear. He didn’t want to leave them exposed, and alleys provided an easy chokehold, and knew that sometimes things lay in waiting. With everything blanketed in shadow, Rusty felt the chill across his neck. He was thankful for the immediate cooling off, though his back shivered. It was nicer now than it had been in the day, even if it would soon feel colder than warm… at least then by then they’d hopefully be inside somewhere. “A factory, huh?” he asked, as he followed on just behind her. “Sounds like it’d be defendable… lots of cover behind machinery and what not.” He babbled to himself. Defence was always a big part of where he slept. Where were things less likely to kill him? Where could he defend if the building he was sleeping in got raided? These were the kinds of questions that filled his mind when he found rest for the night. He was always worried, not wanting to relive the night he lost his parents again. That’s why he always carried frag mines, at least then he could prepare a trap for anyone looking to get in. It’d worked a few times too. Once blew the legs off a pissed off feral once when he took shelter under a bridge. As they passed by a half-eaten corpse, Rusty looked at it and grimaced. “Gruesome.” He muttered shooting her a look as if to ask ‘should I be worried?’ Her answer came and Rusty gave a mournful nod. He felt sorry for whoever the person was, and hoped for their sake they were already dead by the time they started getting eaten. Who knows what kind of creature could do that… Maybe Shea had an idea? If she did, she didn’t say, maybe to put his mind at rest. Maybe that was it. Or, maybe she didn’t know at all. Either way, he was a little more cautious from then on. Carefully he climbed up onto the rubble, his feet kicking back some loose stones as he went. He looked back for a moment, mishearing the stones for footsteps, before realising his mistake and continuing on and into the large street. He looked at it, almost thankful for the darkness. In the daylight this would’ve exposed them to anyone in a multitude of directions. There would’ve been no hiding, they’d just have to break into a run and hope they lost their pursuers. Rusty didn’t need more encouragement to move than to be told that mutants passed through the area, so he quickly sped up and followed after her. He was almost amused that the briefcase along with the rest of his stuff felt much lighter once told that. Soon enough they were at the factory doors. He stared up at it, seeing its size and breathing it all in. It was intact or at least seemed to be that way from the angle he stood at. He looked it over before following Shea inside. The factory certainly had a smell about it that much was certain as the two got inside. Dust and rust, something Rusty himself was all too familiar with. After sitting at his father’s workbench in the basement he was all too aware of such a smell. He couldn’t say it was bad though, just could’ve done with a bit more… air. Nonetheless he was pleased to be off the streets and after making sure the door was closed, he then turned to Shea and waited for her to move. She surprised him as she pulled out a bottle of quantum from her bag and shook it, lighting up the immediate surrounding area in blue light. It was rather pretty, if Rusty could say anything about it… It was a little weird using it to light their way, but his lantern wasn’t necessary any good for moving about, it was a stationary thing. You stuck it down and lit up the room. “Finally, I’ll be able to drop this dang suitcase.” He grinned lifting it up slightly, before shouldering his assault rifle and taking the bottle in his hand. “When we get settled we should have something to eat… I haven’t eaten in hours, and neither have you… Time for me to give you something.” He told, sounding a little more forceful than he had before. With that said, he walked off towards the office, holding up the bottle to give them light. It wouldn’t have helped them had they encountered a long corridor, though thankfully as they walked through, the various halls that branched off quickly before giving much room to someone to hide in the shadows. Carefully he climbed the steps towards the office and when he reached it he looked back to her. “Sounds like we’re all good… uh grab the door for me, hands are full.” He noted holding both the quantum and the briefcase up. Stepping aside he allowed her to pass, before following in after her. The room thankfully was rather large with filing cabinets, two couches, a couple of tables, a large countertop along the back wall and two desks. One of the desks was small and stood closer to the door whilst the other was large and cornered, hidden behind a small partition that hit shoulder height. Two chairs sat behind them with a busted terminal atop each desk. Moulded brown papers littered the floor. Behind the large corner desk on the wall was a large closed shutter, seemingly to allow the manager or owner to open and glance over at the factory floor below. It looked thick with dust, whether it was openable would’ve required more investigation. All in all it seemed like they were up for a relatively comfy night. Well, as comfortable as anyone could be, holding up in a creepy factory. Rusty was instantly over at the couches, placing the briefcase down the side of one of the couches to keep it safe and hidden from sight. It was just as a precaution. But they never knew what was going to go wrong. Quickly he took off his satchel and undid the belts holding the guns on it and placed them carefully down on the table. After placing the quantum down on the table, he pulled out his fusion battery powered lantern and placed it down, with a flick of a switch; the light lit up and filled the room, only leaving a shadow over the manager’s desk partition. “Much better… but uh… Maybe I should…” Rusty fell quiet as he reached into his satchel, pulled out the looted grenades, and went back in. This time however he pulled out three frag mines and looked at her. “To uhm… keep us safe and alert us if the mutants decide to get nosy?” he said waving one at her. He then got to his feet and wandered over to the door. “Uh you can come watch over me or rest up.” It would’ve been odd to see Rusty with such a determined automatic look. It was almost like he did this every night, truth be told, he did. He didn’t explain further, instead he left the room, heading down into the corridor they entered in. Once there, Rusty walked down to the steps. Using the light from the room, having left the door open, he knelt down onto the floor and placed the mines down. Alternating about eight feet to twelve feet between each mine, he made sure to keep them discrete. After a few minutes, he came waltzing back into the room, leaving a mined entrance as their first line of defence. As he stopped in the centre of the room, he looked over at the smaller desk. It would’ve been movable, surely? Giving her a glance he nodded to it. “Maybe we should also put that in front of the door, to keep them out… then we can finally eat and rest for the night.” |
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Post by <> MetaWulf <> on Jul 11, 2015 22:24:02 GMT -5
Ruined Factory, D.C.
“Finally, I’ll be able to drop this dang suitcase.” He grinned lifting it up slightly, before shouldering his assault rifle and taking the bottle in his hand. “When we get settled we should have something to eat… I haven’t eaten in hours, and neither have you… Time for me to give you something.” He told, sounding a little more forceful than he had before. With that said, he walked off towards the office, holding up the bottle to give them light.
Shea listened to Rusty with an increasing raised eyebrow before he made his way in the direction of the office. Pleased with another glimpse into Rusty's personality, the vagabond followed him with the revolver in her hand and a smirk on her face. Seven hours was nowhere near enough time for the woman to get a full grasp of the young man's worth, but her gut disagreed with her logic. She had caught glimpses of Rusty's potential many times in many ways already through the day. With the right experience and a touch of subtle manipulation... the young man spoke, snapping Shea's thoughts back into the moment.
“Sounds like we’re all good… uh grab the door for me, hands are full.” He noted holding both the quantum and the briefcase up.
Shea nodded in the dim blue light, brushing the hair from her good eye. A fingerless glove gripped the doorknob, turning ti slowly. A nudge of her shoulder then sent the door swinging open until it bumped the wall. Shea wasn't worried about the noise from the impact, the hinges would have alerted anyone regardless.
The office was spacious and still quite intact. The familiar smell of ancient dust and mold greeted her nostrils, causing the woman to sneeze. There was a lot of typical office furniture, a watcher's window, and... Two couches. Shea thought, attempting to contain her momentary joy. Prolly got mold on em, but we'll just throw the old bedroll on one of 'em and sleep like a dog anyway. Shea then noticed Rusty stow the briefcase behind the couches as she began looking around the desks, studying the furniture in the dim blue light. As Rusty deposited his gear on a dusty table, Shea soon found the room illuminated by his lantern.
"Nice." she commented after examining the battery powered lantern.
Rusty decided to find some mines in his gear, driven to secure their spot for the night. She couldn't help but smile as the young man explained his ideas, quickly moving to place the mines outside the office. So the kid knows his explosives, eh? Interesting. Shea, although tired, hurting, and yearning for rest, followed Rusty as he left the office. She wanted to observe him as he worked, curious as to his experience with setting traps.
As they descended the stairs Shea carried the revolver in her right hand and the Quantum in her left. Light from the open doorway above illuminated the area below the stairwell enough to get around, but she carried the bottle with them anyway. As Rusty began to set his mines, the woman held up a single finger to the young waster.
"Gimme a minute." she said, leaving him to his work. She held the bottle before her like a torch, wandering behind a massive shear. The machine's lower jaw stood three feet high, while just beyond the machine was a bansaw. Before the industrial cutting device was an ancient drain, which had carried cutting fluid from the saw to the sewer. The vagabond placed the glowing bottle of nuclear soda on the saw before relieving herself. A sigh of relief escaped her.
Shea-Victoria returned with her gun in it's holster, finding Rusty just as he finished his handy-work. The woman nodded to him when he met her gaze, a smug look on her face. "Good work." she commented, looking around at the concealed mines. She was careful to keep her distance. In her arm was the glowing Quantum from her gear, along with three Nuka-Cola bottles. Each contained a dark liquid sloshing inside. "Vending machine s' empty, but tha Nuka-machine wasn't." They returned up the stairs and into the office.
As he stopped in the centre of the room, he looked over at the smaller desk. It would’ve been movable, surely? Giving her a glance he nodded to it. “Maybe we should also put that in front of the door, to keep them out… then we can finally eat and rest for the night.”
"Alright. You grab that side, I'll get dis'n." She said, placing the bottles and her rifle on a nearby desk carefully. They picked up the smallest desk, flipping it on it's side as they carried the makeshift barricade to the office door. Managing to wedge the furniture under the doorknob while it rested well against the rotting floor, their temporary camp had become fairly impenetrable.
Shea-Victoria put the Quantum on the table between their couches, then snatched two of the Nuka-Cola bottles. Her graze on her shoulder had long since stopped bleeding, but She winced up moving it the wrong way. It had bled enough that a binding was unnecessary. She'd allow it to scab over and heal. Rotating the shoulder awkwardly, she turned and made her way back to Rusty with a bottle in each hand. The woman held one of them out for the young man.
"Here ya go." She said with a nod before popping the cap off her own bottle using her belt buckle. Knocking their bottles together lightly, she took a moment to savor the taste. True, the cola had been in the machine for a few hundred years and had lost all carbonation, but the stuff just never seemed to spoil. Taking another swill of cola, the woman's blue eye studied Rusty slowly. The mercenary distant, slowly leaning back again the desk upon which her gear rested. Life was chaos, but she'd been dealt a much better roll of the dice today.
Running thin fingers through her dirty blond hair, Shea blew smoke down to the lantern. The woman continued smoking while watching Rusty situate his belongings. Normally she would have left the kid to die at the hands of the muties, saving her own ass. Normally she may have even mugged him. Hell, if she was in a mood or high, the woman might have even shot him.
But she hadn't.
From their fateful meeting to the old hotel, Shea has known in her gut the young man was an asset. Now it was a question of to what extent. The mercenary began unbuckling her boots, sliding them off and stepping onto the carpet with dirty socks. After taking another hit of the cigarette, the woman tossed her boots to the dusty floor. He's good with the rifle. No training yet, either. Hopping backwards onto the old desk, she peeled both her socks off and tossed them on her boots. Where did her learn about explosives? He mentioned the muties, and the rifle. But... learning how to safely transport and manipulate live mines by self-practice? Also impressive. Shea began removing the armor on her left arm while tossing her jacket onto the floor as well. He got finicky when I plugged Rosner. Although he held himself downstairs, there's some work to be done there. Sitting in her tank-top, torso holster, and the patchwork cargo pants, she finally removed the fingerless glove and dropped it nonchalantly. Take him to Dorter if he lasts a week.
Shea stretched her bruised limbs quietly while observing Rusty find his lunchbox.
"So we should be outta D.C. by tomorrow evening... you got somewhere you need to be, Rusty? Like a job? Or a home? Shit like that?"
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Post by Zelus on Jul 12, 2015 8:31:42 GMT -5
Ruined Factory, D.C. Rusty was immediately on his side of the desk, and in one fluid motion it was on it’s side and pressed up against the door. Anyone who wanted to push it open would have a hell of a time. If they did they’d make a hell of a racket as they tried. This would’ve given Rusty and Shea ample time to wake up and go for their guns. Finally satisfied that their ‘camp’ was secured, Rusty stood looking at it for a moment. He then realised Shea was offering a bottle, she’d scavenged earlier. He looked at her and grabbed it off her and smiled. “Thanks.” His eye however trailed down to the cut on her shoulder. Maybe she needed to have that looked at…? Or maybe she didn’t at all. Rusty didn’t really have any clue. It looked like it’d stopped though, so there was that. He wouldn’t press on it. Instead he just turned and slouched off towards the couch. When there he placed down his gift, and removed his jacket, tossing it down onto the arm of his chosen seat. After unbuttoning the top buttons on his shirt, he sat down slowly on the couch and looked over at her. The couch wasn’t as bad as it smelled, it was old sure, but it sure was something of a godsend. He took a moment to glance around the room. He was thankful for the lantern he scavenged from home, it lit up the dark places he stayed in. More so than Shea’s quantum anyway. He glanced it over, wondering who ever thought up the idea to use that as a makeshift light. He guessed something was better than nothing. He glanced over the things he’d gained in the battles the day previous. The guns he’d acquired, a hunting rifle and a shotgun, looked to be decent enough. The hunting rifle, like all mutant weapons was poorly maintained, it wouldn’t bring in many caps, but it’d be enough for something else… like more ammo for his gun maybe. The shotgun was in much better condition, and would surely bring in a few caps. Might even be enough for a proper room somewhere. He looked forward to a couple of days in civilisation, whenever they got there. Finally he looked over at the grenades, checking the pins on them and making sure they were still good. He looked more methodical than he had with the guns. It was clear, if it hadn’t been already; that he knew what he was doing with them. Soon enough he was satisfied, and ultimately he set them aside and pulled his lunchbox closer. Meanwhile Shea was removing what clothing she didn’t necessarily need to wear, a fact Rusty noticed out of the corner of his eye. It prompted him to do the same, though all he had to remove was his boots and his socks, which he left in his boots once removed. Orderly as ever, he picked the boots up and set them aside and out of the way. Once done, he opened his lunchbox and looked over at her. Inside was a bunch of leather pouches that he removed grabbing four identical pouches and setting them on the table. Once done he closed up the lunch box, and stowed it back in his satchel. Sliding two of the leather pouches over to her, he grinned. “Here. Eat. Made ‘em myself. Cold, but edible. You’ll love ‘em…. I think.” He said, trailing off after a moment. He then immediately opened the bottle of Nuka cola he’d been given, using a trick his mother had taught him and the metal edges of the table. Taking a quick drink of the Nuka Cola, Rusty then moved to his pouches and unwrapped two thick, palm sized mirelurk cakes. Rusty immediately went to town on his. He was hungry like a vicious dog and had been for a good while. He alternated between the cakes and the cola, occasionally looking over to her as she started talking. “Mmm…I… mmm…” he spoke with a mouthful, before swallowing it down and giving a slight hiccup. “I don’t… I aint got nuffin, what you see is what you get. Just me… my bag and my gun.” He continued eating and was relatively quiet for a moment before continuing. “Used to… not anymore. Not since… Ya know.” He waved up at his eye. “The mutants trashed my home, kidnapped me, ma and pa… Dunno what happened to them, but the rangers didn’t find anyone but me there. That’s what they said anyway.” He looked her over, before looking back at his stuff. “When they took me home, I decided to leave… Guess I’ve been alone ever since.” His tone wasn’t really one of sadness, more, matter of fact with a tinge of anger. “As for a job… I tried getting a job as a merc, though I’m in experienced and no one really wants to hire a kid. So I just go around doing stuff for people and scavenging what I can so I can ya know stay places longer.”He fell quiet again as he finished off his first cake and went to start on his second before stopping and looking up at her. “What about you..? Seems ya got a job… That case.” He said pointing over to where he stashed it. “What’s so important about it… what’s in it? Can you open it o-It aint something bad is it? It’s… not going to blow up right?” That was sometimes a worry in the capital wasteland. Sometimes sadistic people stowed a booby trap in something. Sometimes it was to protect something important, other times it was just to have some fun. He gave it a glance now that a trail of words flooded out of his mouth about it. Whatever it was it made him nervous. He didn’t want to go handing something bad to a group of people he didn’t know anything about. Naturally he was a curious little scamp about it. He had a ton of questions. If he asked them all to her, they’d probably be up all night. His gut told him she might not like that. Not to mention she was probably as tired as him. Sleep sounded good, hell sleeping in the same room as someone was sure to make him feel good too. It’d been a long time since he’d felt so safe… and now he had found the situation. This woman he’d run into by chance, both of them heading to the same place, albeit with different reasons. He still wasn’t sure what to make of her. If nothing else, she was a survivor. Maybe that’s all he needed to know, and maybe that’s all she wanted him to know… at least at this moment in time anyway. |
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Post by <> MetaWulf <> on Jul 12, 2015 16:10:17 GMT -5
Ruined Factory, D.C.
When Rusty handed Shea two homemade mirelurk cakes, she gave him a blank look. After figuring out the wrappers contents, she nodded. "Thanks." she said quietly,thinking of how the young man reminded her of Holden in that moment. She unwrapped one of the cakes as Rusty continued his story, sniffing it out of habit more than concern before taking a bite. Not bad.
Shea devoured the first mutant-crab cake with little modesty before chugging the rest of the Nuka-Cola. The second cake would wait. The mercenary had always eaten a pace, and to gorge herself often resulted in vomiting. She decided to let the first cake settle instead of exposing Rusty to her puking from a weak stomach.
He fell quiet again as he finished off his first cake and went to start on his second before stopping and looking up at her. “What about you..? Seems ya got a job… That case.” He said pointing over to where he stashed it. “What’s so important about it… what’s in it? Can you open it o-It aint something bad is it? It’s… not going to blow up right?”
Sitting the bottle onto the desk upon which she sat, Shea lit her second cigarette in five minutes. Habit controlled this, her body craving tobacco and nicotine after every meal, every nap, every stressful situation, and every sexual encounter. The habit had seeded deeply over a decade of smoking. Shea would use some of the caps in the liberated pouch to buy a new carton when they made town. She exhaled through her nostrils as Rusty continued onto his second cake.
"I prefer 'Gun-for-Hire'... been in the Capital Wastes for near ten years I think. Case is my latest job. Seemed easy enough." Shea said while shoving her gear to the other side of the old desk. Laying on her back with one knee towards the ceiling, she continued after another hit from the cigarette. "...Don't know what's in it, but I was told not tah bang it around." she said quietly. Turning her head on the desk, the vagabond looked to Rusty and gave him a shrug. "It'd be a bad idea to return with a case that has been forced open..." she said while returning her gaze to the ceiling. "...especially for this client. So unless your a good lockpick I don't s'pose we can open it."
"Tomorrow night we'll try to make it to Gradyditch. If we're lucky maybe even as far as Megaton. You're free to go your own way any time... but I have to drop the case off in three days to a man in Andale. Six-hundred caps wealthier. Two-hundred caps are yours if you stick with me till then. I could use the help, Rusty."
In truth Shea-Victoria wasn't concerned with help or safety. The twenty-eight year old mercenary could hold her own quite well outside super-mutants, Talon Co. mercs, and deathclaws. Her motivation to keep Rusty at her side revolved around a growing idea in her mind.
Sitting up from the desk after finishing her cigarette, she attempted to wipe the dust from her back. Finding the DKS rifle, the vagabond proceeded to disassemble the weapon and clean it. The old weapon was finicky, now more than ever, and constant maintenance was required to prevent jamming. While cleaning the receiver with a grungy rag.
"You're Type 93 rifle there is a workhorse, those things will operate in just 'bout any condition. This old DKS-501 is ah different story. Been looking for a "sister" gun to rob the parts I need, but haven't found any in months." She mentioned offhandedly as she continued her task. "I've got a safehouse near Arefu. Not much, but it's safe to stash loot there. I need to stop there and get more .308 rounds... only a handful left. If we make it there i'll give you a can of rounds for yer gun. I don't have anything that uses that caliber... "
Shea's weapon talk and promise of free ammunition hopefully aided her attempt to win the young man's trust. The blond woman yawned She turned the subject on her previous focus while reassembling her weapon.
"Tell me about tha explosives. How'd you learn? What can yah do?"
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Post by Zelus on Jul 13, 2015 8:58:10 GMT -5
Ruined Factory, D.C. So she hadn’t been in the area all her life like him huh? Rusty couldn’t help but raise his eyebrow at that fact. Rusty hadn’t left the inner city ruins; let alone going beyond the limits of the entire capital wasteland. He’d heard the area around the inner city, beyond the piles of rubble and broken sky scrapers that the land was far more open, with it’s own smaller piles. Rivet City was about as far as he’d ever gone; even then it wasn’t really that far. He watched her smoke, wondering whether she was really from. What was even beyond the outer city limits anyway? What were the people like? Rusty scratched at his head. “I uh. I could give it a go… I mean, looking at the lock. Dunno how good I’d be, was only really kinda average at that. Might end up leaving scratches on it.” Curiosity was slowly getting the better of him. He had lock picks; he could give it a shot. Would Shea’s clients be angry for it? What if it was something awful though… wouldn’t it be their duty to make sure it didn’t fall into the wrong hands? Rusty twitched at the thought. Listening to her plan for the day to come, Rusty listened. Grayditch, parents used to say that place was infested with fire ants, but they might’ve been cleared by now. Still he didn’t really want to find out. If that was their route, then so be it. As for Megaton… he hadn’t ever been there, Still he heard good things. Maybe it’d be nice to travel about a bit and see what the town looked like. Then there was Andale… he’d never even heard of that place before. Must’ve been a town of some kind too. She then offered him a chance to follow her. He was quiet for a moment, before faking an obvious ‘don’t really want to do this’ sort of voice. “Oh, I guess I’m going to have to stick with ya…. You’d struggle to carry all those caps otherwise.” He was quiet for a moment, before smirking over at her jokingly. Rusty sipped at his Nuka Cola for a while. He didn’t have anything else planned. He was without purpose for the most part. It might be good to have a mission or a quest, at least that’s what he thought. Hell, he enjoyed having someone for company, though he wondered if she felt the same. Maybe she preferred to be the lone wolf. It wouldn’t surprise him. He wasn’t though. He grew up living with his parents, only to have the ripped from him. He needed something to replace the void, even if it was only temporary. She was cleaning her gun now, and he watched her for a moment. He bet he could probably help her out if he had a good set of tools. He watched as she took her weapon apart and started cleaning. Her weapon looked pretty rare. It was a shame she wasn’t using a hunting rifle or something similar. Maybe Megaton had a store of some kind… they might’ve been able to find some replacement parts for it. Rusty was lucky, his gun was relatively common amongst super mutants… all he had to do was wait for some to get in a firefight with the Brotherhood of Steel and then take one off a body once they were gone. Or shoot one of the mutants himself, and pray he won. Every now and then he’d get one and rip it apart for replacements. Looking at his own gun, it was relative condition. Sure it was battered and bruised, but it was something. She confirmed his suspicion about his gun. It was definitely rare alright. He wondered if she could even bear to part with the gun. Maybe it meant something to her… Or maybe she liked being able to take things out from further away than would otherwise be necessary. “Near Arefu, eh?” he asked despite the fact that he had no idea where that was. He figured by the way she brought it up that it was on their way, so he nodded. “That sounds great.” He’d used many of his rounds in the fight and though he had some left, plenty even, he could never really say no to free ammo. She then asked about the explosives and Rusty’s cheeks flared up. “Well uh… Pa taught me.” Rusty explained after taking a long drink. “He was a scavenger, figured explosives was good to sell to settlements and stuff, for protection so he taught me…. Though, I was always better at it than he was. Have a head for it… it aint much good for anything else though.” With a little self-deprecation, he moved on. “Gimme something explosive, a sensor module and some other stuff an’ I can make a bomb… or a mine, though those are a little more complicated. I can do other stuff too with ‘em too. Like make traps or dismantle them.” In truth he didn’t really like making explosives, since he knows what a hazard they can be… All the same, he’s good with them, and people do sometimes use them for protection, just like they were doing tonight. So occasionally Rusty built the odd drag, most of the time to keep the mutants out of places, sometimes he sold them on, and just prayed they’d be used for good. After rolling up his jacket, he placed it near the arm of the couch and used it as a makeshift pillow. Once satisfied with it’s placement he laid back down on it and stared up at the ceiling. Maybe he should try getting into the briefcase… it could quite easily be harmless, some artefact from before the war. They didn’t want it banged up… so obviously it was precious to someone. Shea either didn’t know, or didn’t want him to know. His curiosity was slowly taking over, making him twitch. He tapped his foot for a second, before suddenly sitting up and going into his satchel and pulling out his bobby pins. “I… Uh. Do you wanna know what’s in there as much as I?” he asked nodding over to the briefcase. “I don’t think I’m gonna get a wink of sleep, if I don’t at least get a look…” So he looked over at her, pins in hand. |
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Post by <> MetaWulf <> on Jul 14, 2015 19:55:26 GMT -5
Ruined Factory, D.C.
...Shea either didn’t know, or didn’t want him to know. His curiosity was slowly taking over, making him twitch. He tapped his foot for a second, before suddenly sitting up and going into his satchel and pulling out his bobby pins. “I… Uh. Do you wanna know what’s in there as much as I?” he asked nodding over to the briefcase. “I don’t think I’m gonna get a wink of sleep, if I don’t at least get a look…” So he looked over at her, pins in hand.
The mercenary glanced over to Rusty and paused. The lantern allowed Shea's pale skin and scarred body to appear zombie-like in the long shadows. Her face attempted to masked a feeling of amusement, but her mouth betrayed her by curling the slightest bit. Even in the light it was difficult to catch. Rusty's actions and words said much to the mercenary about his inner personality. Shea stored this stuff in an area of her mind already dedicated to the young man. Exhibiting this kind of behavior towards locked containers and forbidden things could work well to Shea-Victoria's advantage, if she helped the new blood evolve his vice. And I suppose I do wanna know what's worth six-hundred caps to a fuck like Eddie...
The dry wind became louder outside the structure, carrying with it the faint sound of gunfire. Rifle... Semi-auto. Shea listened quietly for a moment, then shrugged. It was a common sound in the Wasteland. Being carried by the wind, the source was likely a few city blocks from their factory.
"Alright, kid. You think you can open the lock without damagin' it? You get three tries." Shea said quietly, allowing her gaze to shift from Rusty's bobby pins to the hidden briefcase's location and back again. "If it's booby trapped, it probably won't go off until the case is actually opened." On that note Shea walked barefoot to the manager's desk and began searching it nonchalantly for salvageable items.
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Post by Zelus on Jul 15, 2015 8:55:23 GMT -5
Ruined Factory, D.C. When Rusty saw her give the faintest of a smirk, he almost took it as permission to go ahead. He quickly dropped the bobby pins on the table. He then edged a bit closer to the stowed briefcase. Soon he moved and picked it up, placing it on the table in front of him. He now had time to give the look over it. He thought he could do it… It wasn’t a particularly complicated thing, in fact from what he could tell it was no different to the ones usually scattered about in buildings. He ran his thumb across the lock, rubbing away any dirt. Pursing his lips be blew carefully on the lock to remove any dust. Once he’d got it in front of the light, he stared into lock and gave a short nod. He could do it… he hoped so at least. If he didn’t he really would be twitching all night. He could’ve used the crowbar to just break the god damn thing open and then they’d be all good. Gazing over it. He almost wished he could do that. Risking valuable bobby pins for curiosity’s sake, it was dumb. Even Rusty knew it. What if it broke and then he needed it later? Rusty looked uncertain for a moment before giving her a casual glance. Nah, he’d do it. They were getting an awful lot of caps for delivering a simple briefcase. It was something important. Something dangerous perhaps, they had to know what it was. He moved onto his knees and tilted the box so the light shone on the lock. Just then, in the silence came the fair sound of gunfire. Rusty turned and looked up, tilting his head. “Mutants hunting… probably. Too late for normal folk to go blasting and attracting them… unless they’re defending themselves.” He muttered quietly. If the mutants were hunting, they were at least protected from them, and their little office hidey hole was at the very least secure. Plus the sound of a frag mine going off would surely alert them if they were in danger. He was glad that he’d laid them down now. “I could probably get it open, if I can’t use my pins, I aint gonna force it. Not unless we absolutely need to.” Rusty told, pulling the pins closer. “Don’t worry. I won’t purposefully get us into trouble.” He gave her a slight grin. “But uh, in case this is booby-trapped, might be best for you to get out of the way... ya know just in case…” Leaning in close, Rusty began tampering with the lock. His movements were slow and steady, very careful. His breathing was slow, as he focused on the lock. He wasn’t that great at lockpicking, but by god was he good at being careful. Working with explosives would do that to you. After a few moment a sudden slip, Rusty sighed out heavily and withdrew the lockpick. “First attempt...” he breathed, shaking his hands as if that’d calm him down. “Okay, I’ve got a good idea of where to go from here.” He nodded, looking over at her. “So uh, how’d you meet the guy you’re supposed to deliver this to anyway?” Leaning back down, Rusty took the challenge again. Just like before he was focused, slow and methodical. He was determined to open the lock. Nothing was gonna stand in his way. All he had to do was hope and pray he would succeed either on this attempt or the next. |
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Post by <> MetaWulf <> on Jul 16, 2015 22:38:21 GMT -5
“Okay, I’ve got a good idea of where to go from here.” He nodded, looking over at her. “So uh, how’d you meet the guy you’re supposed to deliver this to anyway?”
Shea produced a dusty bottle from one of the manager's drawers, setting it firmly down on the desk with her left hand. Her right hand twisted the ancient cap off with what looked like great effort on her part. "He's a thug." she said before taking a taste from the bottle. The vagabond woman made a strange face and smacked her lips together. She deemed it awful.
"Met him in a little shit hole called Annie's 'bout... two years back. Saw me hold my own in a bar tussle. He figured between the way I tossed them fellas around and the gun on my back I must be a merc or a rogue. Next mornin' he hires me as his bodyguard until we make it to Megaton. We've been chums ever since." she said, adding a sarcastic twist to the last bit. "Ain't seen him 'round for a while, then he found me at the Tom's Tradin' Post last week. Told me 'bout that case."
Shea took another swill of the whiskey continued her search. Soon the drawer hung open and their contents was spread across the sectional. Watching Rusty attempt the briefcase lock once again, the woman sat two small glasses down. "You wanna shot?"
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Post by Zelus on Jul 17, 2015 2:18:10 GMT -5
“A Thug huh?” Rusty got a troubled look on his face, glancing over at her. She had a bottle of whiskey in her hand. He gave her a raised eyebrow, before going back to the briefcase. “Even more reason to get a good look at what’s in here…” If she was trying to dissuade him from opening the ‘box’, it wasn’t working. In fact, he seemed even more determined. He didn’t want something terrible on his hands after all.
He listened to her describe how she met him, giving a slight snicker at her reference to a bar tussle. He probably would’ve liked to have seen that. He bet Shea kicked their asses to kingdom come. Maybe he’d see it again someday? He glanced back over at her, giving her form a quick glance. She was thin, she must’ve have been underestimated, or something. Having spoken to her though, he bet she was a yao guai in an actual fight though. Rusty certainly wouldn’t want to mess with her… in fact she kind of intimidated him to some regard. If he was honest, he didn’t dislike that at all. Shaking his head a bit, he went back to the lock, giving her a quick snort as he picked up her sarcasm. He was kind of curious of the types of places Shea chose to visit. Seemed like she met all sorts of… interesting people there. Rusty had only ever been to the Muddy Rudder in Rivet City, even then Rusty stuck out like a small thumb. Hell, the lady there even questioned his age, which was odd. Almost like he could carry a gun, but he couldn’t have a drink. If Rusty was honest though, there were only a few places he felt like he fit in, and one of them had been destroyed.
As he slid his bobby pin into the lock again, he tried his hand at the lock. “No thanks-well actually, maybe, yeah. Just uh, after I’ve got this open. I’ve got enough trouble with perceiving things with only one eye let alone getting tipsy on booze.” He smirked to himself before going back to chewing on his tongue in concentration. A few moments later the bobby pin slid in deeper and there was a faint clang as progressed through. Rusty leaned forward hearing it, and then it was followed by another clang and then as if by magic, Rusty heard the third. With the biggest, toothiest grin he turned the lock and unlocked the case with a satisfying click. Rusty breathed out heavily before pulling out the bobby pin and placing it aside. “Uh… Well it’s open.” He grinned, his chest heaving with relief. He glanced over at her. “Well, I guess you can pour it now for me.” He smiled before cautiously reaching for the case. With the softest, gentlest movement, Rusty edged it open. Using the light he tried to get a good look inside. “Uh…” He muttered, before opening it a little wider. Had there have been a trap inside, Rusty would surely have taken the brunt of whatever it was, though if not, the briefcase would soon be open and its contents on display.
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Post by <> MetaWulf <> on Jul 17, 2015 20:06:10 GMT -5
“Uh… Well it’s open.” He grinned, his chest heaving with relief. He glanced over at her. “Well, I guess you can pour it now for me.” He smiled before cautiously reaching for the case. With the softest, gentlest movement, Rusty edged it open. Using the light he tried to get a good look inside. “Uh…” He muttered, before opening it a little wider....
Another devilish smile crept across the face of Shea-Victoria while she cleaned the shot glasses with the inside of her shirt. Placing the whiskey bottle back onto the desk, the woman made her way to Rusty's position infront of the ancient table. Just as the young man began to fully open the case, the mercenary picked up her leg and put her barefoot down slowly on the leather case.
"Not just yet, ace." The vagabond said with slow emphasis. "Here."
She knocked their glasses together softly, spilling a bit of her share. Downing the glass, she sat it upside-down on the dusty table. The woman gave Rusty another look-over, clicking her tongue as she did so.
"You're pretty good at this kinda thing, kid. Gritty stuff. Whoever told ya that ya weren't cut for merc work wus wrong." Removing her foot from the case, Shea moved around the table and beside Rusty. She crouched before the worn furniture, nodding to the briefcase.
"Alright, then. Go ahead."
As Rusty opened the cases slowly, Shea leaned in closer. Time seemed to slow in that moment, the anticipation thick enough for the pair to be breathing a little heavier. The hinges gave a squeal of protest as the lid fell backwards, exposing the contents of the case.
Inside was a large object wrapped in a dirty blanker and a piece of paper. Shea leaned forward, reaching to flip a portion of the blanket away. Exposing the item beneath was done quickly, leaving Shea and Rusty looking at a large, metal ring. The metal had yet to corrode, leaving it as one of the few not-ancient metal objects the mercenary had ever seen. Fine seems ran along the thick metal ring, and it was obviously the object was some kind of Old Word device. An armored module of some sort rested on the outside of the ring, adorned with a dormant light. Prongs were exposed to the inside of the ring along six different points at three inch intervals. The inside of the object was more than a foot across. It was Old-World tech alright, but oddly enough the thing looked to be in grand condition.
The mercenary stood up and walked barefoot to the managers desk, poured herself another shot, then proceeded to swallow it. After another grim face she sat the glass down and lit another cigarette. What the fuck? Who would need... Smoke trailed from her nostrils as she fought back dark memories. Memories of The Pitt. A moment of silence passed before Shea-Victoria spoke again.
"Ah know yer wonderin' what it is, but leave it alone, Rusty." Shea said quietly, a sad look in her eye. "It's dangerous. As in explosive er poisonous..." The woman took another long drag from her cigarette before making eye contact again. "It's a slave collar. Never seen one that size before..." She trailed off, her mind attempting to accept the grim purpose of the object.
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Post by Zelus on Jul 18, 2015 9:43:23 GMT -5
When Shea had shut the case on him, Rusty with a wide eye looked up at her, giving her the slightest bit of a frustrated whine. Though he soon realised what she had in her hands. “Oh uh, okay. Sure.” He gave her a small smile and then, took the glass. As she knocked it, she spilled some of the whiskey over their fingers and Rusty snickered. Rusty took the shot, coughing a bit with surprised at how bad it was. Was it bad because it was old, or was it bad because it was bad whiskey? Rusty didn’t know he wasn’t an expert in alcohol, in fact he’d only drunk alcohol a few times, though he had a feeling he might do it more often, once he had a proper wage coming in.
She called him ace though, an interesting nickname to say the least, I guess she had chosen it and he had very little choice to accept it. He didn’t really mind it though. Rusty watched her as she sat down; licking the whiskey off his fingers in an attempt to clean it, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted his fingers to end up sticky from the alcohol.
Rusty’s lips pulled into a small embarrassed smile when Shea said he was good at something. “Ya think so..?” He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “I aint done anything big yet though… just sort of… did what was necessary I guess…” he trailed off before looking at the briefcase.
She then told him to open it, leaning forward slightly and giving her one last look, almost as if checking she was absolutely certain he could do it. Sure enough she wanted to see it opened as much as him, or at least, that’s what it appeared. With excitement giving him something of a shiver, he pushed it open and gazed inside.
What was revealed was something of confusion. Rusty sat there baffled. As he tilted his head, some of his hair swished to one side. He’d never seen anything like it. He just looked it over with a puzzled look on his face. He was even about to reach for it and turn it over in his hands to get a proper look at it when Shea suddenly got up. She immediately got her hands on the whiskey and drank, though this time it didn’t seem like it was for fun. Tentatively he pushed the briefcase away, though he looked between whatever it was and Shea. He was quiet, though looking puzzled, though it was clear on his face that he knew something wasn’t right. He gave her a questioning look, before realising what was behind her eyes. She told him to leave it alone, telling him off the danger. Immediately he moved away from it, giving her a nod. “Alright.” He acknowledged, looking at it cautiously before getting up and walking over to her, taking his shot glass with him.
So that was a slave collar huh, he’d heard stories and it was something he didn’t want to get into. He gave her a slight sympathetic look, though he made sure it wasn’t too much. Something told him she didn’t like pity. He dropped his glass on the table and poured himself some whiskey before hopping up on the side of the manager’s desk. He swung his leg slightly as he sat there thinking for a minute. As he let the silence fill the room, he glanced over at the collar. He seemed to be thinking, a look of nervousness crept up his face as he got an idea. He didn’t really plan to get slavers pissed off at him, but he detested them so what did he care? Sure they’d be gunning for him and maybe they’d even put him down… But he’d faced mutants and survived, how bad could slavers be? He paused to think about it. They’d probably gotten lots of experience, the intelligence to avoid detection, and the resources to actually move slaves around the wasteland. Hell if they were willing to pay six hundred caps for a single collar, they certainly had an awful lot more than that. After few minutes he was decided. Turning to her, he gave her his best mischievous grin, though there was a look of uncertainty lingering in his voice. “So uh… how much trouble do you think we’d get in if we blew it up? ‘cause… dunno about you, but I’m not handing that guy something he can used to… ya know.” he looked down at his glass. “To be honest, I’d throw it in the river, but that sort of stuff has a habit of rising to the surface. So it’d be better to just get rid of it.”
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Post by <> MetaWulf <> on Jul 18, 2015 19:51:42 GMT -5
“So uh… how much trouble do you think we’d get in if we blew it up? ‘cause… dunno about you, but I’m not handing that guy something he can used to… ya know.” he looked down at his glass. “To be honest, I’d throw it in the river, but that sort of stuff has a habit of rising to the surface. So it’d be better to just get rid of it.”
"We have until tomorrow afternoon tah decide what to do with it. We've some options here, but for now it stays with us and we stick to gettin' outta D.C." Shea said quietly while smoking her cigarette.
She adjusted her eyepatch, rubbing the area where the strap had been. It could have easily been the stress instead of the accessory making her head ache. The collar was worth six-hundred caps easy. Probably more to a real baddie. It would fetch enough caps that Shea could take some time from wandering.
On the other hand, the former slave knew this kind of power was too dangerous. Enslaving a super-mutant? There were plenty of crazy fuckers in the wasteland that would have enough fortitude to attempt such a thing, but could anyone be trusted afterward? The wrong guy with a super-mutant as a bodyguard could cause some serious problems for some good people in the wasteland. Shea didn't really give a fuck about the well-being of said settlers, but it might cause her some issues in the future. If such a thing became a trend, no one would be safe.
She sat on the opposite side of the desk as Rusty, curling her right arm around her right knee. Her left leg hung from the furniture, and the left arm aid her in the completion of the cigarette. Putting the smoldering butt out on the old desk, she brushed the hair from her eye. The young man still had some view of black and white. Shea knew he'd be broken eventually, but for now the mercenary let it be.
"Things might get complicated now... but don't worry about it. We'll deal with that stuff tomorrow." The vagabond woman said, changing the subject from the case to the journey ahead. "We're gonna leave her 'bout an hour after dawn. Hopefully tha muties will be resting or regrouping, and most raiders don't get up that early. I'll wake you in time to disarm yer mines. No sense wasting them with yer talent."
"If we make good time we'll hit tha metro around noon. The route will get tricky from there, but it will spare us the afternoon heat. If you haven't used chems before, your going to learn about a couple of them as well a close-quarters clearing tomorrow. So long as you listen to me, we'll be in the outskirts before dusk."
" You ever been in the metros, Rusty? How 'bout Rivet City?"
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Post by Zelus on Jul 19, 2015 9:51:38 GMT -5
“It’ll be good to get out of the city.” Rusty started, neglecting to mention it’d probably be the first time he’d left the city. Unless they were actually heading to Rivet City, though that was still part of DC wasn’t it…? Certainly had a lot of tall buildings near it at least. Rusty didn’t have a map, even if he did have one, he wouldn’t know how to read it. Rusty watched her smoking, giving it a curious glance over. He could smell the smoke in the room, given his proximity to her. He couldn’t say he liked or disliked it. It was certainly different from the smell of dust and dirt, so there was that at the very least.
Rusty stretched up slightly looking around the manager’s desk, before getting a look at the metal shutters covered with rust. It probably opened to give a good look of the factory floor below, if it could actually still be opened that is.
Looking from the shutters, over to Shea, he wanted to ask her about her eye, having noticed discomfort. He wondered what hers looked like underneath the patch, and well, she’d seen his. She appeared to be in deep thought though so, Rusty just quietly refilled their glasses and took the bottle in his hand. He stared at the label that was barely there and faded completely. He tried to make out any detail he could, but he really couldn’t. The bottle might’ve not’ve had a label at all. Still, the glass was interesting to look at. Probably made in a factory like the one they sat in. Rusty sat there watching the fluid in the bottle as he moved it about, distracting himself from the elephant in the room that was a large slave collar on the table behind him.
“Complicated…? I, I guess.” In truth, Rusty just wanted rid of the damn thing, sod whatever consequences. In fact, he hadn’t even considered selling it off and handing it in since he opened the case. It did sound complicated, if they kept it, which is why Rusty just wanted to wash his hands of it. As he looked over at Shea however, he wouldn’t abandon her and leave her with the mess. He’d made her life a lot harder by opening the box. He was with her now and he was hopefully prepared to face whatever was coming. She was right though, they’d face what was coming in the morning. For now they could relax and pretend it wasn’t even there. “Don’t worry; I’ll wake up on time… I sometimes sleep on rooftops so I’ve gotten used to waking up when sunlight hits.” He told, looking around. “Well, hopefully I will anyway, no chance we’re going to be able to tell when the sun rises in here.”
Rusty quickly turned to her at the mention of the metro raising his eyebrow a bit at it. They were going to the Metro…? Rusty shivered with slight fear. Great, creepy ferals, wonderful, just what he needed. He knew the metro tunnels were the quickest way there and it made sense to use them, but he always preferred to go around. The darkness of the tunnels creeped him out so much. It might be better with a companion. Then she said raiders. “Oh boy that sounds real fun Shea~” he smirked sarcastically, pushing past any real fear and hiding it. He took a drink of whiskey. She then asked him about being in the metros and Rivet City, looks like that was their location after all.
“Uhm, haven’t really been in the tunnels… To be honest, I haven’t really gone that far. No wait, they must’ve taken me in the tunnels. The uh, rangers that is. I wasn’t conscious though so it doesn’t really count.” He scratched the back of his neck a bit awkwardly. “But I’ve been to Rivet City, got drunk for the first time in the bar there. Nice place, bit too crowded for my liking though. I uh… scrambled over the ruins to get there though. Didn’t wanna go in the tunnels on my own … ferals creep me out.”
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Post by <> MetaWulf <> on Jul 19, 2015 10:58:10 GMT -5
Ruined Factory, D.C. “Uhm, haven’t really been in the tunnels… To be honest, I haven’t really gone that far. No wait, they must’ve taken me in the tunnels. The uh, rangers that is. I wasn’t conscious though so it doesn’t really count.” He scratched the back of his neck a bit awkwardly. “But I’ve been to Rivet City, got drunk for the first time in the bar there. Nice place, bit too crowded for my liking though. I uh… scrambled over the ruins to get there though. Didn’t wanna go in the tunnels on my own … ferals creep me out.”
"Don't worry about it, kid. I'll show you how tah handle zombies. We're taking the metro tunnels because it plays to our advantages at this point. I survived alone this long by bein' sharp. So long as you stay sharp too, we'll cut through the metro like a Saturnite Steak Knife." The woman said, hopping off the desk and producing a a small object from her supplies. She walked behind the couches, where the lantern's warm light best illuminated the wall. Shea opened her hand, holding in it a piece of charred wood. The thing left black soot on her fingers as she spun it quietly, then glanced over her shoulder to Rusty. The mark seared into her neck looked deeper in the lighting. "Alright Rusty, look." she said, turning back to face the cracked and dusty office wall. "This is where we are now." She applied pressure to the chunk and circlesher wrist once, effectively drawing a small, oblong circle out of black char. "This is the entrance to the metros..." she continued, drawing a rough line that changed at ninety-degree intervals. It became clear to the young man these were roads, and each turn was an intersection or obstruction. "And this tha route we'll take under the city..." At this point Shea continued by drawing a dotted line instead of a solid one. It had it's own twists and turns, and even consisted of an odd loop at one point. "If we took tha route above ground, it would look somethin' like this..." the vagabond continued, drawing a solid line from the metro entrance to the metro exit. This new line had quite a few twists, curves, loops, and odd zig-zags. It became clear the route through the ruins was at least three times longer in total length. Although the sketch did illustrate the best route well, Shea had not drawn it to justify her decision. She had drawn it in hopes the young man would begin to map things out in his own mind. "Drawin' things helps." Shea-Victoria concluded, taking a step back from the wall to examine her "map". "Here." the woman said, tossing the small piece of char to Rusty. "Can find 'em in most burnt ruins. Good fer leaving marks n' signs to find yer way, but ya don't do it when someone's trackin' you." She didn't add more, but the mercenary was fairly certain someone would be tracking them soon if they hadn't started already. The collar was a slaver's dream, and someone's small fortune.
"Shouldn't take long to get tah Rivet City, but we ain't stayin. Too risky right now, and we need tah keep movin'. Get supplies from tha traders outside and catch a caravan outta the 'skirts." she concluded, hoping the detail would ease Rusty's mind a little. It wouldn't be good for her to have a jumpy companion watching her back in the tunnels. Shea needed him collected and cool. "Maybe by tomorrow night we'll be cooking on an open fire, not a buildin' or sky-scraper in sight. Then we'll decide our next move." Shea approached the desk again, took her bag, then walked barefoot to the left couch. After tossing her ragged bedroll over the furnite, the woman tossed her bag down. The vagabond sat down and kicked back, using her bag as a makeshift pillow instead of the couch's arm.
"We won't sleep in. You do this long 'nuff, ya grow a clock in yer head." Shea said with a yawn, allowing the looming fatigue to take hold. Closing her eyes slowly, Shea waited for questions or silence. Either way, the mercenary felt she had made up her mind about the young man.
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Post by Zelus on Jul 19, 2015 12:09:55 GMT -5
When she referenced the ghouls as zombies, he looked a little confused. Zombies? Why’d she call ‘em that? He shrugged it off and nodded. Hopefully getting through the metro tunnels was as simple as she made it sound. He didn’t really know the layouts of the stations, though he’d seen the maps outside. Some of them had survived the centuries. They were colour coded too, which made it easier for an illiterate Rusty to read. It helped him to get a good idea of where he was sometimes… even if he took an incredibly convoluted way over rubble and through the smallest cracks between the ruins. Rusty watched as she wandered over to the wall, spinning a bit to look at what she was doing. “Uh…?” with a questioning look he sat listening. She then started drawing on the wall, and Rusty immediately slipped off the desk. Following over like a kitten with it’s mother, he looked curiously over her ‘map’. He couldn’t help but stare at the mark of her neck, wincing a bit. He was sure that must’ve been painful, not as painful as the eye injury but still pretty bad. Making sure not to linger too long, he turned back to what she doing. Watching her finger trailing, he seemed to get the gist. “I see, okay.”
Looking at the metro section he breathed a bit of a sigh of relief. It was clear she knew exactly where she was going; hell she’d probably done the route countless number of times. So, he really would just let her take the reins and then he’d ride the winds.
When she drew the other route, Rusty gave a knowing smile. Yep, that was kind of the route it took. His probably was a lot longer, because he got lost numerous times. Hell, eventually he just followed a caravan when he spotted one and stumbled onto Rivet City with them. He really was hopeless to an extent at navigation. Eventually he guessed he’d get better, once Shea showed him around. Maybe then he’d stop wandering aimlessly.
“It certainly helped me!” He grinned at her catching the charcoal and nodding at her. “Thanks, that makes things look a lot simpler.” Stowing the charcoal away in one of his pockets and then dusted off his hand. So what’s what that stuff could be used for? He gave her a sort of nod when she referenced the tracking. Even Rusty knew they were most likely being followed or tracked. After killing two people it was clear there were multiple parties interested in the collar. Rusty had no idea who they were, slavers he bet.
He was almost glad but almost disappointed they weren’t staying in Rivet City. It was an oasis in the wasteland, but it really just was cramped and full of people. He couldn’t deny it felt great to sit up on the deck with his leg off the side and just stare into space. It wouldn’t look like he’d get the chance to do that this time around though. Maybe next time he thought. At least he’d get to sell his shit and lighten the load. He was glad for that at least. They’d probably move a lot quicker after that. Rusty wasn’t the biggest beefiest guy in the wasteland, wasn’t all that strong either, but he saw the opportunity to make the money off the guns and decided to take it. Might as well be in his pocket than someone else’s
Rusty definitely looked more relaxed, a clear plan in front of him, giving the map a nod. “Alright, looks good to me.” Rusty smiled before stepping away and sitting back down on his chosen couch. He had to admit, cooking on an open fire sounded great. He hadn’t done that for a while, and it’d be good to get some warm food in his system. Not to mention he could show off some of his skills. That was provided the merchants they got a hold of sold food of course. Still it was bound to come up eventually; it was only a matter of time.
After noticing her decide to lie down on her bedroll, Rusty took that as a hint to do the same, giving her a nod about the clock comment. “mmhmm..” he murmured, before pushing his jacket near the arm of the couch. Before long he too was laid down. A moment later he leaned up and turned something on the lantern. As he did so, the light darkened in the room, and before long it was fairly dim, dark enough to sleep, but still light enough to allow them to see. “See ya in the morning… sleep well I guess.” Rusty whispered, before rolling over with his back to her.
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