Fistful of Caps (Oregon Trails) [FULL/FAST]

Waiting til Earl was finished with the body and headed toward the manhole, he quickly adjusted the bodies into a more haphazard shape to make sure the soldiers corpse wouldn't be recognized without some work. He jogged back to the manhole and began climbing down after Earl, stopping to pull the metal cover back in place. Taking his feet off the rails, he slid straight down to the bottom, pulling his hat back right as he landed. Hopefully the enclave soldier would give them some much needed information.

He moved to the room, holding out Cat's dagger for her and giving her a polite nod when she thanked him and took it from his fingers. He wasn't surprised when Earl gave him a look that said the rebel wanted to handle this on his own, and Bullseye gave him a shrug before following Cat back to the ladder. "Try not to make the lad scream too much."
He pulled a rusted metal door closed that separated the ladders area from the other room just in case. They didn't need any yelling reaching the surface if Earl did decide to torture the man.

He carefully sat down on an old wooden table, eyeing Cat up and down as she adjusted her hat. He was still intrigued by her, and took her in for a whole before breaking the silence. "So, Enclave come back, manipulatin' rebels into workin' with the Legion, framin' it on the NCR, causin' Brahmin Barons problems, massacrin' entire towns. Seems a bit too chaotic. Can't figur' what they're up to."

"Meanwhile there's that Daniel feller walkin' around in fancy armor, plottin' to get his leader killed the whole time. Workin' with all those murderin' bastards. Then you got the Legion and whoever the hell that 'Oregon Caesar' is. Prolly' just someone else cooked up by Enclave schemes."

"And smack dab in the middle of it all we've got a mercenary in way over his head, a rebel leader who the hell only knows what he's up to, takin' orders from the guy that goes an' murders half his family more like, and you - a pretty little firecracker as I can't decide what likes me or wants to kill me. The hell have I gotten myself into," Bullseye finished, his gaze sweeping over Cat again. He thought he'd had complicated jobs in the past, especially the last one, but this was ridiculous. He had no idea what to make out of what had just become bedtime stories to scare children suddenly coming back and shooting at him. And that was just it. He'd always expected the Enclave to just be a story. One man in power armor didn't worry him too much. But five? Ten? He was fast, but that armor would stop more bullets then he, Cat, and Earl combined could put downrange.

A sound from the other room snapped him out of his thoughts, and he realized he'd been staring at Cat while he was lost in his thoughts. Embarrassed, he averted his gaze back to the door, unconsciously fingering one of the throwing knives on his belt out of habit. "Anyone ever tell you ya look like a Ranger, Cat?"

Bullseye kept her in the side of his vision, and grinned slightly when He thought Cat looked like she might have been blushing. He was a bit worried when she put her foot down on the table he was sitting on, and the old wood creaked some more. She hadn't exactly been kind to the area before, and it was a good thing he didn't think with his cock or she might've removed it by this point. Still, she had a nice leg, and... Bullseye blinked as he had begun staring again, and try to focus on her words.

"...don't exactly strike me as the kind of man who gives without takin'. So, what do yah want in return fer seein' this thing through? And I'll need yah tah be a little more descriptive than last time." she said with a serious look. He noted that Cat seemed drawn in, and he might've struck a nerve by accident. He had the notion to run with her question and be very 'descriptive' about what had just been running through his mind, but thought better of it. He didn't want that boot to go moving anywhere he didn't want it.

"Well, I have to see this through. Ain't much choice in that. It'll be nice to be able to walk 'round the Mojave again without worry'n 'bout NCR try in' shoot me...." Stupidly, he decided to try his luck. The question was to perfectly phrased to pass up. "O'course, I'm a man of some taste. I wouldn't argue with somethin' pretty as uhh.." He eyed her up and down as blatantly as possible, with a half smirk curling on his lips. "As thanks for my services. I suppose if you want me to stick around, we'd better just keep the bargaining table open 'til we're finished and you can... Show me what you have to offer."

He grinned again and leaned back, fishing a hand around to his pack and hoping she didn't decide to plant her boot in his balls. He pulled the whiskey out they'd gotten from the radio room, popped the cork with a throwing knife and took a swig, before offering it to her.

"Don't worry beautiful, I'll make sure n' stick 'round 'til we're finished. Things are interestin' 'nough to keep me intrigued."

Earl watched as the others all left the room, remaining silent. After the steel door shut behind Bullseye, leaving Earl and the trooper alone, he turned to the man. He walked over, boots clicking against the stone, and leered over the man. "So. We can do this the easy way, or the way I'm really going to enjoy buddy. Your choice.." The trooper spat in his face, "You will all fall to the Enclave. All of you!" The Trooper hissed. Earl stood up, not lazily but not quickly, and wiped the spittle off his face. "That might be. But if you don't tell me everything I want to know, you won't be around t' see it."

Earls brown eyes focused on the trooper, and he didn't smile. Instead, he drew his knife and held it against the mans ear. "You don't need an ear to talk. Only a tongue..." The point of the knife hovered above the mans skin, who was starting to quiver slightly. It then went down above his fingers. "Nor do you need yer fingers. Which one would you prefer to lose first? Index? Middle? Ring? Oh, don't worry. I won't cut them off completely. I'll cut 'em off by digits."

The blade lightly tapped each digit. "So. I bet you're wondering. Will he do it? Or is he bluffing? Well, you could spit in my face and find out. Go ahead, make my day." The Enclave trooper spat again.

Earl wiped spit off of his face, and smiled sadly. "I think we'll take the index finger first." The knife bit into the first digit, between the tip and the knuckle of the index finger. He began to cut, His other hand went over the Enclave troopers mouth to muffle the mans screams. The sound the other two would hear in the other room was that of his boot slamming into the concrete.

The tip fell off. "One down. I could do this all day. So how about you answer my first question...whose your commanding officer?"

"Go fuck yourself!"

Earl shrugged. His knife began to cut into the middle fingers first digit, again between the knuckle and tip. Earl began humming a tune to himself, seeming completely unconcerned as the man started to buckle in pain again. "Just stomp your boot twice when ye want me t' stop soldier boy."

The Soldier still maintained his silence. Earl sighed, rolled his eyes, and then brought his knife down onto the other hand. "Whose your commander?" The man growled in pain, screaming in reality. Earls hand did its work however, staying firmly planted over the mouth.

The man finally stomped his boot, eyes going wide as Earls knife hovered over the first digit of his right hands middle finger. Earl removed his hand. "S-st-op! Please!" The trooper sobbed, and Earl pulled away. "Okay. I stopped. Now talk. Whose your commander? Why did you destroy Tull? Where is your commander?"

The trooper began spilling it all, the threat of losing all his fingers too much for the young man to handle. "L-L-Lieutenant Malcom! He's incharge! We destroyed Tull and blamed it on the N-NC-NCR to get the people of the surrounding towns rallied up! He's in the inn! Surrounded by soldiers!" The man added the last part hastily, "You'll die getting to him, there's at least ten men up there.."

Earl smirked, "Let me worry about me and my own, and you worry about yourself. Now, who killed the woman and her husband?"

The trooper sobbed, slumping over. "I-I did! I shot her!"

Earl nodded, briefly. He looked the knife over in both hands, eyeing the blood on the blade. He'd start to wipe the blood off on his working pants before thinking better of it and using his bandana. "A-are you going to let me go?" Asked the trooper, looking up with fearful eyes. Earl just smiled, "There's a certain sayin' 'round these parts. Eye fer an eye. Ye killed my sis and her man." He threw his knife into the mans gut, and ran over, pulling it out and placing his hand over the mans mouth as he ripped it out. "Now. My friends are coming back in. You're going to tell them whatever questions they want to know, or I'm going to let you bleed to death."

He then turned to the two as they entered, hands stained red in blood, hat dipped over his eyes. Arms folded. "He told me a bit. His Lieutenants up above in the saloon. Got ten men with him, all armed. Our new friend here thinks we'll die gettin t' him. Figured you'd want to ask the rest. Go on. He'll be...co-operative."

"Now... we probably outta check on Earl." she said as she checked her weapons and ammunition.

He nodded and stashed the the whiskey back in his pack after corking it. He used the rifle to help him stand up, and looked over Cat as she checked her weapons. He began to pull open the iron door, opening it halfway before turning back to Cat and speaking to her softly. "Ya know. I think I can manage that. Might want to talk it over some more, but I'll hold ya to it Cat..."

"Although I figure, you startin' sound like a broken record. This ain't exactly the best time for me to be tryin'a get you outta yer pants. How's about you just enjoy the flattery for once, alright beautiful?" He didn't wait for her to respond, pulling the door open the rest of the way and striding into the room.

Catherine gave him a look that he had witnessed before and that he would probably see again. She was not amused, and made a mental note to continue the conversation later. It felt like it was time to go back to work.



As they entered, Earl was waiting for the patiently. The soldier was missing some fingers and bleeding from his gut. Catherine attempted to hold back a smile, with no luck. In her opinion, the soldier deserved far worse than this. She walked slowly into the room, making sure her boot steps echoed in the soldier's ears over his sobs.

Earl then turned to the two as they entered, hands stained red in blood, hat dipped over his eyes. Arms folded. "He told me a bit. His Lieutenants up above in the saloon. Got ten men with him, all armed. Our new friend here thinks we'll die gettin t' him. Figured you'd want to ask the rest. Go on. He'll be...co-operative."

"He tell ya what we want to know, Earl? Reckon you didn't hurt him near as bad as I thought ya would've by now." Bullseye commented as he and Cat stood in the room with Earl and the injured Enclave soldier. A moment of silence passed.

Cat Fyre looked to Earl and Bullseye. They seemed to want nothing more from the man.



Catherine walked up to the bloody soldier and showed him and scoped out his wounds. She regarded him indifferently as she spoke. Her voice was calm and controlled.


"Well now, yah look as if yah seen better days, friend. Ol' Earl here must not care fer yah much, huh?" She asked rhetorically. Catherine removed one of her knives and began to button up the weathered duster. "Seems like they ain't got a further use for you now... so, ah'm going to ask ah simple question. If ah get ah simple answer, I'll thankyah kindly and be on my way. If yah fuck with me, I'm going to take this here blade and scalp you. You Enclave s'posedly so smart, I reckoned you would know what scalpin' was. This knife. Your skull. You have one chance tah avoid this no-doubt excruicatin' experience by telling me this:"


"Where is tha Legion in Oregon, and what the fuck yah are yah workin' on with them... what was tha deal ya'll assholes struck together?" she said quietly as she twirled the knife in front of him. She then regarded the man with bored attention as she walked behind him and grasped his hair with her gloved hand, ready to make good on her promise.

Bullseye wondered if Cat was actually violent enough to scalp the man. Something about the way she held that knife spoke that she was serious. If there was one thing he had come to realize, it was that she hated the Legion more then him. Which he found strange, because he hated all the 'civilized' groups around the Mojave. They all played like they were good and honest, and acted like they wanted what was best for everyone, but it was really just a facade for getting what they wanted.

He fingered the gold ranger symbol in his pocket, reminded himself not everyone was a selfish asshole. Even if the Enclave were. He'd take care of Cat. At least for now. It was the biggest step in the right direction he had taken. He felt it might be the most selfless decision he'd ever made. Even things that might've seemed selfless in the past he did for himself. It always served him some how. Maybe he was being selfish with Cat to. He was curious what she'd look like without her clothes. And he did want to try being a 'better' person, if that was the proper word to call it. But, he didn't - certainly didn't - have any actual reason to work with her aside from his curiosity.

Bullseye was surprised the Enclave trooper could laugh with his hand in the shape that it was. Surely he realized he wouldn't be walking away from this. Then again, maybe that's what had him laughing. People always acted so strangely when they knew that death was inevitable. It was a shame that Earl had wounded him in that way. He would've at least liked to the give the soldier a chance to fight for his freedom. Not that anyone has beaten him in a knife fight before.

Still, it didn't surprise him the man didn't know much about the Legion. He wasn't familiar with the structure of them, but if the lieutenant was paying them to raid NCR caravans in the Mojave, he wondered what Caesar was having them do. It confused him that they'd need to be bribed to attack. Well, unless they were cowards, which they very well might be.

Whatever the case, Earl at least seemed to agree with the soldier. Still there were other ways to post the question.

"Since you seem to know a bit about who's hired where, what other schemes ya assholes got planned out. Who's on ya payroll, n' what's the next step."

The Enclave trooper started to howl in pain, but Earl stepped forward out of reflex and clamped a hand firmly over the mans mouth. He stoically ignored the mans biting, wiping off his hands as Cat finished the cut. He then pulled away, allowing the trooper to speak. There seemed to be a satisfied look about the rebel over what Cat just did, and he nodded at her.

"Better do what the lady said. At least ah stabbed ye in the gut. She'll cut your cock off and a few more fingers before she's done with you if you resist."

The Enclave troopers eyes went wide, and despite fear of death, the best he could hope for was a quick one now. Rationality set in, and for the briefest moment he'd appear to be cooperative. Then he smirked, that arrogant look flashing across his lips, dark green eyes blazing. He spat forward, and answered the question. "The next step is to kill every single one of you mutie scum. Make it pure so that the true heirs of earth can repopulate the Wasteland. Get ready to die muties! They're coming for you!"

The Enclave troopers eyes went wide, and despite fear of death, the best he could hope for was a quick one now. For a moment, he appeared to be cooperative, but as he smirked Bullseyes own smile faded.


"The next step is to kill every single one of you mutie scum. Make it pure so that the true heirs of earth can repopulate the Wasteland. Get ready to die muties! They're coming for you!" the soldier exclaimed.


Catherine removed the blade from his cheek and and stabbed downward into the crook of his rotor cup, severing it's tendons and muscle. She then bared her teeth in a smile as she held the man by his hair, twisting the blade in his shoulder and causing excruciating pain. Unless proper surgery were preformed, the arm would be unable to lift it's self again. Pulling the knife free, she calmly wiped her blade clean on his uniform. Before she could continue, Bullseye sighed and approached her.


...He stepped forward, putting a hand on Cat's shoulder, titling his head backwards.

He waited for Catherine to back away ( to which she did disappointingly ), nodding to both of them to give him some space. Catherine backed away, satisfied with her final effort. [Bullseye] crouched down to the level of the soldier, staring him in the eyes. Bullseye's face didn't waver as he spoke, and he didn't even blink. His voice changed though, calm and quiet. He sounded like a psychopath.


"You understand what's happening here. You're going to die. You aren't worried about what we do now. It's likely no one will find your body. But you seem not to understand the levels of pain we can put you through."


Bullseye shifted, moving closer to the soldier. He could feel the mans labored breathing on his face, and he continued. "It starts easy. A couple fingers. Some scalp. Maybe your cock. But we'll keep going. You'll do whatever we want by the time we're done with you. ...It might take less then an hour."


He crouched back in front of the soldier, pulling out his throwing knife. Bullseye picked at his nails with the tip of the blade, staring at the soldier with cold eyes again.


Cat slouched into the chair near the radio, placing her boots on the desk and watching Bullseye work with mild amusement. She took another long drag from the cigarette and then smacked her lips. Catherine reckoned she could use a drink soon.


"Now. The Enclave have taken Tull. They have framed the NCR. Why? What is their plan for Oregon? Why now? Who is in their payroll? If I so much as imagine you are not telling me everything I want to hear and more, I will bring you to such extreme levels of discomfort, that you will beg for the sweet sensation that you used to think was 'pain.' "Cat


Cat Fyre smoked her cigarette and watched Bullseye attempt to pry out some last minute details, kicking back in the old chair. Removing her hat, the woman ran her fingers through her before replacing it back atop her head. She looked over to Earl as Bullseye continued, gauging his own condition.