The REALLY Wild Wasteland. (The Fallout RP!)

[Rip Van Rabbit]

Lucy Black - Megaton: Clinic
"..."​

"Fuck this.", Lucy Black flatly stated, unsteadily getting back onto her feet. "I'm going to Moira's."

Running a hand through her hair in an exasperated motion, the One-Eyed Former-Gauss-Girl shook off her black eyepatch that was being soaked in disinfectant on the bedside table. "How much do I owe you, Doc?", Lucy muttered impatiently, eager to get away from what was a room full of Enclave affiliates.

"Your, uh, debt has been paid. In double actually by the gentleman over there and that BlamCo Priestess. So technically, I owe you. And since I hate owing anything to anybody, I'm going to give you some supplies.", Doc Church looked more annoyed than usual as he handed over a fully-stocked first-aid kit. "Now leave...all of you. This isn't a charity."

Lucy stuffed the first-aid kit under her arm in a hurry. It looked new. "Thanks."
Promptly, she turned to walk to the door but chose to stop and regard #411 for a moment. "Constance. The Catgirl, right? Cute kid, she looked well the last time I saw her."

One might expect that to sound like a veiled threat, in fact, Lucy was merely mirroring #411's sudden burst of hollow compassion. The fact that Lucy could switch gears so quickly was eerie in its own right. This was more of a 'I-know-about-someone-you-value' kind of thing. Lucy now had her own leverage if any of her people were going to be used as a bargaining chip again.

Using the walls to balance herself, Lucy cautiously walked past the Lieutenant and stopped in the doorway to look blankly at Jonathan. "You have a lot of explaining to do.", her voice was distinctly devoid of any strong emotions. Whether that was concerning, threatening or understandable given her current condition was left to recipient's interpretation.

Once Lucy had shut the door behind her, she dropped all pretense only to stumble onto the nearby railings. Her balance was off and she felt ill, whatever combination of medication that was coursing through her system was not agreeing with her at all. Leaning over the edge in case she had to vomit, Lucy closed her eyes and tried to focus on what was important.

She needed a weapon. Protection. That's all.
She needed to feel some semblance of protection.

And although she was hellbent on getting to Moira's, to an outsider, all they could see was a haggard eyepatched female clawing her way up the railings.

If things couldn't get any worse, she was beginning to doubt her grip on reality. Why?
Well, you know that crude 'Church of the Children of Atom' sign near the Megaton bomb in the center of the town?

Something about 'The Children of BlamCo' in deep purple seemed a little off...

Now she needed an explanation above all else. What the hell had happened in just one day?!

 

[Generic NPC 22]

The Wild Wastelands | Megaton | The Clinic of Doc Church
Shit Lists and Shopping Lists​

If it was Jonathan McKenna's life goal to rise to the top of Enclave Intelligence Specialist #411's shit list, he fast becoming its rising star. The list's top positions were not usually reserved for those who had spoken ill of her or done her wrong, that was a different list entirely, one that involved convoluted machinations that ended up with their life a shambles. The shit list was reserved for those who made her look poor in front of a superior officer and most important of all, those who attempted to ingratiate themselves with FalloutJack. Jonathan was attempting to do so using Natsuki Manriki as a proxy, an equally unforgivable sin in #411's eyes. As Jonathan spoke, the Enclave Intelligence Operative felt her jaw tightening ever so slowly, her teeth grinding and gnashing as she attempted to exert some control over herself and her desire to launch herself upon the man and rip out his throat with her bare hands. The simple fact that she needed him to assist in the training of the Sylphy Clone Army was all that stood in her way and it was more than enough to keep her from driving a power armored glove through his skull with a power assisted punch. Waiting for a moment, the red haze that threatened to consume her cleared as she smiled at the former Enclave Enlisted Soldier.

"Lieutenant. I apologize for my subordinate's insubordinate tone. Yes, he is a retired from the Enclave and as such he has forgotten some of our ways having been exposed to the corruption of the Wastes for so long. I shall prepare myself for the journey to the rendezvous point. If you will give me a moment with Mister McKenna, I will follow you shortly. If you could ensure that my discharge instructions are in order, I am afraid that in my current condition, I might forget some of those instructions."

Doc Church nodded and pulled Natsuki aside, instructing her on which chems were to be administered when and what to look for in the event that Enclave Intelligence Specialist #411's condition worsened.

"I shall have to remind you, Mister McKenna, that as a retired member of the Enclave, you carry none of the benefits that your former rank may have entitled you. While any respect that you garner from other field units may be a matter of ceremony, as your Asset field supervisor, I am not bound to display such nostalgia. If you require me to hold your hands in a such a manner, it might be time that I reconsider our arrangements and rescind any offers that I may have forwarded on my behalf." Meaning that she do whatever it took to make Jonathan and Kristin Enclave Enemy #2 (Just behind the Brotherhood of Steel), "Might I also remind the former Enclave soldier that were he the sort of man that was officer material, he would have made the realization that the Enclave would question the motives of a retired soldier showing up on the door step of a girl that had recently also left our loving fold. Were you the sort of intelligent man who wanted to ensure that nothing happened to the daughter of Isaac Black, you would have kept your distance and perhaps sent a postcard. You of all people should be aware that the Enclave has eyes everywhere and we do not take kindly to those who would plot against us and given the state of the world, there are many that plot against the Enclave. Were you a kind man, you would see that it was through your own act that you brought me, a member of the Enclave Intelligence Wing, knocking on Miss Black's door. You might seek to forget your past but the past does not forget you and sooner or later, it has a way of catching up to you."

With that said, Charlotte Sorrowfeld returned her attention to the wounded One Eyed Gauss Girl, who was now standing nearby, apparently keen on blowing this Popsicle stand before anything else untoward occurred, she did only have one eye remaining. Pausing for a moment to collect her thoughts and calm herself from the infuriating Mister McKenna, Lucy words came first.

"Constance. The Catgirl, right? Cute kid, she looked well the last time I saw her." Lucy Black stated, inferred, threatened in her own right.

Eyeing Lucy Black for a moment, there was a part within the woman that remembered Lucy's comments regarding FalloutJack and their close personal relation. A gloved hand tightened slightly and the sound of leather rubbing upon leather could be heard in the nearly quiet room. While #411 wanted to threaten and berate the woman as she had, Charlotte understood that Lucy's words were born of desperation and anger at what the Enclave Intelligence Agent and done to her and her friend. This however, was entirely different. The mother in Constance Sorrowfeld wanted to reach out and snap that slim little neck that kept the pretty little head of Lucy Black's vertical. The conniving ***** in Enclave Intelligence Officer #411 knew that to show a reaction would give the girl ammunition that could be used later.

The ***** shrugged as if it were just another piece of information in regards to another pawn on the chess board. A forced smile made its way to the woman's face as she addressed Lucy once again.

"This is not an act. Lucy. I want to apologize for my recent actions. There are things that I hold higher than even my life and the lives of others and that is the ideals that the Enclave strives to bring to the Wastelands as well as the embodiment of those ideals, FalloutJack. I need for you to understand my commitment to protecting these things. Approaching you in the manner that I did was a mistake." There was a pause. A search for more words to convey the thoughts rambling within the head of Charlotte Sorrowfeld. Reaching behind her, Charlotte produced the visualizer that showed Thomas "Shifty" McGee prominently, the man clutching his face is if he had been struck there several times recently. #411 placed the unit on Lucy's chest before stating, "Don't make me regret this act of kindness or you will regret it."

Well, perhaps a little more practice in the kindness department is in order Enclave Intelligence Specialist #411. You started pretty well there but ending the conversation on a vague threatening note... eh... well. Whatever. Watching Lucy leave, Charlotte turned her attention to whatever was left, mainly the getting the hell out of this crater shaped hellhole.

By the time Constance Sorrowfeld/Enclave Intelligence Specialist #411 was finished with the conversation, Doc Church had finished instructing Natsuki and loading her up on chems that he "claimed" #411 would require in her recovery, none of which was entirely cheap. The Enclave was ready to move out.

[hr]

The Wild Wastelands | Doctor Evil's Vault of Evil | A Evil Minion Break Room​

"So, you're saying they found what?" Evil Minion Fenwick asked, his voice tinged slightly with disbelief at what he had just heard.

"Did I stutter? They found a whole stash of candy in that garbage chute. Apparently Scotty's been rehearsing being an Evil heir and what's the first thing they teach you at Evil University?" Evil Minion Wrigley responded with a smile on his face.

"Stealing candy from a baby?"

"Bingo! Apparently Little Scotty Evil's been stealing lots and lots of candy from the kids around the DC Wastes. I mean enough to fill an entire garbage chute. Man. I thought the kid was a little puss but man that takes some balls." Evil Minion Wrigley said slowly, his smile suggesting that he would have liked to be a fly on Scotty's shoulder when it happened.

"What you mean it takes balls?"

"I mean, have you ever done it? Have you ever taken candy from a baby?"

"Fuck no, man. That's mean."

"See? You've gotta overcome that instinct of not doing it. You've gotta be able to look that kid in the eyes and take that piece of candy right out of his mouth. Then when he's crying, you've gotta run like hell. Most people think that you've done something to the kid that's a lot worse than taking his candy and they'll beat the shit outta you. So between feeling like a guilty shit and running from the mob of people that'll be on your ass, it takes balls."

"So, what about the others? Didn't Mustafa get his hands on one of them?" Evil Minion Fenwick asked curiously.

"Naw, he got fucked up himself. Seems that someone impaled his neck on the broken bits of grate. I think it was the big naked guy." Evil Minion Wrigley said

"Fuck you, it's gotta be that chick dude. I heard she opened that cell door with nothing but her bare hands." Evil Minion Fenwick said.

"I bet you a week's pay that it was the naked dude."

"You're on, *****."

"I'm not the *****, *****."

Evil Minions Fenwick and Wrigley were suddenly interrupted by the sound of the door opening, revealing Evil Minion Second Class Mustafa on the other side, his neck bandaged from ear to ear. It was either through supreme luck or good writing that the grating had not severed the major arteries in his neck, only his vocal chords. It was rather unfortunate since he was currently the Number One contender to take the title of Evil Idol.

"

What the hell are you two talking about?

" Asked Evil Minion Second Class Mustafa Hawking.

"Uhhh... nothing man. Nothing."

 

[Texas Joker 52]

Arizona

The Wild Wasteland | Conjoined Paths | Temporary Camp​

The Ex-Undertaker's reaction to her teasing didn't disappoint, since it looked like he was panicking internally and looking for a place to run. If he was screaming internally too, she wouldn't have been surprised. As much as the idea amused her, it was also rather exasperating. After all, just because she looked like a zombie didn't mean she was dead. She had needs too! Not that she could actually sate them.

She was interrupted from watching Thomas desperately think of an escape plan when Sylph started to slur and wobble like a champion drunk, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know how she got that way. But the Ghoul was pretty sure it had something to do with the Med-X she offered Thomas, and he promptly declined.

Wonderful. Looks like she's not only a psycho, but a chem-fiend, she thought with a sigh.

Thankfully, Thomas seemed to know what he was doing, and prompted her into talking to a nearby boulder. The fact that it worked only made Arizona shake her head.

"She should be busy for a while but before we move on, could you please... please... PLEEEEEASE not humor her in her quest to find herself a new mother?"

She opened her mouth to reply to that, but he seemed to launch himself into a great impression of someone digging themselves a nice, deep hole. All the while, she stared at him blandly with her single eye and fought against a smirk. When he realized what he was doing, he did a mental one-eighty and got back on-track, with her nodding sagely.

"Sorry. I know that you're joking with Sylphee and I understand that bonding with her might seem like the ideal thing to do but I think that it would be in our best interest to leave her in Megaton. She's dangerous. You saw what she did to that building. She'll more than likely kill us before whatever lies within the confines of the Dunwich Building does."

"Ha! I wasn't planning on bonding with her at all, that isn't what I do. Teasing you is fun though, and in the Wastes, you have to make your own entertainment." she said with a small smile, before she nodded and lowered her voice, "But you're right. I'm not sure I'd trust her with a pistol, much less explosives and a goddamned Anti-Materiel Rifle. You want to leave her in Megaton, I won't argue. The problem is getting her to stay."

She leaned back and crossed her arms.

"I want to get to Megaton as soon as possible, then move on to Dunwich, maybe stopping at Tenpenny Tower along the way if we need to. Worst case, we stay at Megaton a few days, relax before shit hits the fan at Dunwich. But not much longer. I want to get this job over and done with, and I'm sure you'd rather travel with someone that's nicer to look at." she added with a small, knowing smirk, "Though if you want to stick around with me, I wouldn't argue about that either."

 

[Neuromancer]

If it was Charlotte's life goal to rise to the top of one of Enclave R&D's chief ex-scientists' shit list, well she needn't have continued trying because she landed the position a while ago. It wasn't a difficult feat; the shit list mostly consisted of probably-and-hopefully dead individuals that made his life miserable back before Raven Rock went boom boom, like for example James Ronald Tiberius Drummond, who got his position because high ranking father, and was a bright, shining example of the Dunning?Kruger effect doing its work, or that Clearwater MIV or whomvever-of-his-name he was, who was a mixture of mad scientist-slash-Don Quixote-slash-pseudogentleman (but only for the ladies, the lust-driven virgin hypocrite lunatic of a bastard). Truly, compared to what he had to put up with in his earlier years, the agent's rage-fuelled idle threats and empty promises were like he was being commented for his brilliant disco dancing skills despite the fact he had no idea what the drowning fuck a Disco was! No, it was not the agent's shallow attempts at intimidation that riled him so; rather, it was her actions back at the Miss Black's house that landed her on the top of the people-I-want-to-make-most-miserable list, and he expected to spend many a night thinking of all the wonderful ways her head could melt from lazer rifle shots, or plasma, or tesla coils, or lava. Maybe boiling water. It would be like a MKX fatality showcase, except what the flippity dildos is MKX anyway?

And so, he payed little attention to her, quite frankly, laughable attempts at asserting her dominance, his attention wholly occupied by the recently awakened Miss Black getting up and stumbling around in a vain attempt to look strong. A mixture of delibitating anxiety and guilt kept him from acting -indeed, he could scarcely keep a straight face-, and he really couldn't find words to expressing himself. Hells, as he were right now, he wasn't sure what he wanted to say. The girl threw a glare at him, as though examing him to see what had changed over the course of a few hours, before speaking up

"You have a lot of explaining to do." she stated flatly, and Jonathan found himself gulping anxiously. He wasn't sure of her tone, but what he was certain of, given the fact that she had woken up to him talking to the very same agent he was pointing his gun at along with an Enclave officer, she had painted a very, very wrong picture.

That thought terrified him, and Jonathan found himself at a panic, desperately wondering just what it was she was thinking of him. He could have easily stood there for a good few minutes, but a certain unwanted collaborateur decided to sprout more bullshit again.

"This is not an act. Lucy." And the Enclave cared for the wasteland. And Charlotte didn't have a crush on FalloutJack. And Jonathan had pancakes for breakfast.

Why did she even bother? She was the one that decided interrogating the poor girl in her house just as she was left off the hook for what looked like petty grudges and paranoia And suddenly she cared? Please, Jonathan could come up with a forbidden love story between Enclave officer and Super Mutant Behemoth and still make it more plausable than #411's words. He was content to leave her insultingly fake show uncommented, prioritising helping Lucy around over throwing petty insult, but of course the Agent had to play macho, didn't she?

"Don't make me regret this act of kindness or you will regret it."

"You sure have a really fucking wierd way of showing you're sorry, don't you?" Jonathan said as he turned to face her, his eyes throwing a piercing glare, before hunching towards her, his head barely a few paces away from hers.

"You can threaten me all you like, Charlotte" he started, his voice barely above a whisper, "But lest you forget, you're the one that started this mess in the first place by announcing my fucking name, to a fucking Enclave officer. You're the one that blew my fucking cover, it's not my fucking problem if in order to save my arse from your fuckup I have to make your life miserable. Clean your own mess."

"I'm guessing this Constance is my contact." he said in a calmer manner as he backed away, noticing Natsuki come back with the doctor and that Lucy had disappeared during his little outburst. Thinking he overstayed his welcome and eager to catch up with his barely-standing acquaintance, Jonathan grabbed his bowl and faced Church, "Doctor, I would like you to deal with the radiation of the clothing I have in the backpack outside. Don't worry, I will pay, extra if it's done quickly. And Agent..." he said as he turned to look at her again with a grin, "I look forward to working with you." he said mischievously, before opening the door and leaving.

* * *​

She hadn't strayed too far, as expected of a person that couldn't quite stand on their own two feet. He was quick to catch up to her, though words still escaped him. As he slowly approached her, he grew even more panicky over what to say, made evident by the sweat running down his cheek and nervous shaking of his hands.

Snap out of it!

"Moira, uh, closed not too long ago for the night..." he started awkwardly as he got next to her, occupied as she were staring at a sign labeled 'The Children of BlamCo'. The Princess sure left quite the first impresiion, it seemed.

"You hungry...? I brought some food... eeeh, it's quite delicious?!" he continued in a similar manner, extending the bowl towards her before sighing and getting more serious.

"Look, I know how this looks like... but I swear that I can explain." he threw nervous glances left and right before looking back at her meekly "But not here. Please, come with me to my room at Moriarty's Saloon, Miss Kristin's there too. I promise I'll go over everything that happened today there. "

 

[Generic NPC 22]

The Wild Wastelands | Conjoined Paths | Temporary Camp
What a F**KING start...​

"Though if you want to stick around with me, I wouldn't argue about that either." The Old One, Arizona said with a smirk on her face. Her teasing had risen to such a degree that it had caused the Former Undertaker's cheek to burn red as she toyed with him. Though the exercise had left Thomas' dignity in tatters, it did signal the fact that Arizona seemed much more approachable than she did when he had first met her in Rivet City.

"Well, you don't need to argue, Arizona. You did recruit me to guide you to Dunwich and I'm not about to let you wander off in the Wastelands without a guide, regardless of what could potentially be waiting for me in Megaton. I may not be an Undertaker any longer, but I'm still a man of my word." Thomas said in an almost comically valiant sort of way. Despite his training and preparation, Thomas had found himself ill equipped to handle the Wastelands. In fact the last time he'd gone on an adventure of this magnitude, he'd ended up cryogenically frozen by the Enclave. Even with this particular fact gnawing at the back of the man's brain, Thomas "Shifty" McGee had made up his mind in regards to accompanying his friend to the Dunwich building.

"No! I lost again!!! No fair Mister Boulder! You're cheating!" Sylphee yelled in the background as she had apparently lost another hand of Caravan to the boulder that she was talking to. How she even found a Caravan Deck this far East was beyond the already mentally exhausted man.

"Sylphee! Say goodbye to your friend. We're leaving!" Thomas called out as he started packing his gear, eyeing the blue haired junky for a moment to ensure that she heard him.

"Okie dokie daddy!" Sylphee called out as she started packing up her Caravan card, sticking her tongue out at Mister Boulder. No one liked a cheater.

"Arizona. I really, really, really appreciate you doing this for me," Thomas said with a smile that did a rather piss poor job of hiding his excitement. Though if there was any doubt that the Friendly Former Undertaker was excited, it was dispelled with the hug that he gave the ghoul.

"DAW! So cuuuuute!" Sylphee called out from where she sat, her bags already packed and ready to go, her rifle, which she had retrieved from Arizona was slung over her shoulders.

 

[Texas Joker 52]

Arizona

The Wild Wastelands | The Dunwich Party | Path to Megaton​

The fact that Thomas' face turned an entertaining shade of red only made Arizona smirk a little wider. Really, the fact that he still blushed that easily was a little surprising, though he did mention that he wasn't quite... Experienced when it came to women.

"Well, you don't need to argue, Arizona. You did recruit me to guide you to Dunwich and I'm not about to let you wander off in the Wastelands without a guide, regardless of what could potentially be waiting for me in Megaton. I may not be an Undertaker any longer, but I'm still a man of my word."

"Glad to hear, especially since I don't have the slightest idea of where the hell the Dunwich Building even is from here, so I'm relying on you to get me there." she told him easily.

The fact that she was starting to like the idea of company on the journey there was something she kept to herself. The Wastes were boring enough as it was on her own, and having someone to talk to was nice. Even if it was two someones who she could already tell would drive her up the metaphorical wall quicker than it would take for a snowball to melt in hell.

But she hadn't been prepared for his hug. After she had gathered her own things, he mentioned that he appreciated what she was doing for him, and wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace. She blinked even as her face pressed against his chest, and the short Ghoul awkwardly returned the hug with a small smile.

"It's no problem, Tommy boy. Now that's enough. I'm getting soft enough as it is." she said as she quickly pushed herself out of his clutches and gave him a mock glare.

She ignored Sylph entirely as she called out how adorable the two of them were. At the same time, she wondered where Charlie had gone off to, but realized that he knew what they were planning on doing. If the boy had any brains in his head, he'd be following behind them in short order.

"Well then, let's get to Megaton. I can hear that nuke calling to me even now." she said brightly as she started to walk.

The Wild Wastelands | The Dunwich Party | Gates of Megaton​

I'm going to shoot her. I'm going to shoot her. I'm going to shoot her, Arizona repeated to herself as a mantra, I'm going to shoot her right fucking now, I swear to Good Christ Almighty.

As they stood outside of the metal gates of Megaton, all the old Ghoul could think about was taking Lester and putting a bullet in Sylphee's head, due in no small part to the trip there and the resulting migraine. From their temporary camp, it had taken them from early morning to late evening to get there, and while it was only around half-a-day's trip, Sylphee made it feel like it had taken several agonizing weeks. She could easily see why Thomas wanted to dump her irritating little ass in Megaton and leave her there. It was only due to her uncharacteristically phenomenal patience that she hadn't shot the blue-haired little shit.

Looking up with a bloodshot eye at the sentry above the gate, she called out.

"Hey! You gonna let us in, or what? We've got caps to spend, and don't plan on causing any trouble." she shouted up wearily.

She only hoped that neither Thomas or Sylph had managed to get a reputation here. But given what Thomas had implied in earlier conversations, she was almost certain they had.

 

[Rip Van Rabbit]

Lucy Black - Megaton
"..."​

"Don't make me regret this act of kindness or you will regret it."​

An apology intertwined with a threat. No doubt, Lucy's offhand comment about Constance had ruffled some feathers. Not enough to make #411 fly off the handle and implicate herself any further in front of the Enclave Lieutenant, but it was enough to keep in mind for the future. Which reminded her, #411 had given her something cylindrical and thin with a few buttons on it. Some kind of remote?

Lucy couldn't quite place where she had seen it, her recollection of recent events were shaky at best. So she merely focused on fiddling with the power button and lo and behold, a slim screen flipped out and displayed footage of Thomas "Shifty" McGee. Lucy's heart did not leap into her throat, which was highly unexpected at the sight of her very-much-alive Undertaker. Biting her lip to elicit some sort of positive reaction, the girl who had her world turned upside down from recent events couldn't convince herself that he was truly safe unless she could protect him. She had to be his shield.

Lucy wasn't 'alive' unless she was fighting something or protecting someone. There was no normal life after the Enclave Vault, not to mention those that she had met, betrayed, fought alongside, lead and used as support along her journey. Outcast to both the Brotherhood of Steel and the Enclave, it also meant that she had more enemies than friends and she no longer had a prototype Gauss Rifle to protect herself.

Perhaps she could strike a deal with Moira, although she wondered whether the quirky woman would accept a house of all things...

"Moira, uh, closed not too long ago for the night..."

"Wonderful.", Lucy sarcastically replied, turning around a little too fast to catch sight of Jonathan McKenna standing not too far away. Judging by his panicked expression, he was most likely here to check on her. A sentiment that she appreciated, but not one that could fully vocalise while her head was spinning.

"You hungry...? I brought some food... eeeh, it's quite delicious?!", he continued in an enthusiastic fashion, extending the bowl towards her. As hungry as she was, she wasn't quite sure she could trust her stomach to remain settled until they had found someplace comfortable to rest. Waving off the offering of food with a grimace, she couldn't help but wonder if The Children of BlamCo and Jonathan's sudden enthusiasm for the food that had almost killed him were intertwined somehow. Her refusal was met with an audible sigh. Oh?

"Look, I know how this looks like... but I swear that I can explain."

Yeah! It looks like you are cleaning up my mess. Your cover is blown. Me losing an eye will go down in history as one of my most monumentally stupid last-ditch-efforts to save a screwed up plan. Kristin, using her blade before her brain, just painted an enormous target on her back by killing two Enclave soldiers in her home...despite how impressive that was.

You shouldn't have saved me. I would have found a way out! Hell, I had a face-to-face with Number One himself!

"But not here. Please, come with me to my room at Moriarty's Saloon, Miss Kristin's there too. I promise I'll go over everything that happened today there."

If there was one thing that would always distress Lucy; it was being left out of the loop and lacking information.

Now Lucy wanted to blurt all of this out, but the audacity in his previous statement begged more immediate questions that wouldn't give her any headaches. Nightmares, maybe.

"Whoa whoa whoa!", Lucy swayed a little and tumbled safely into Jonathan's outstretched arm. The two started walking together once Lucy had her arm around his shoulder for extra support. She was beginning to recognise that someone had administered Med-X into her system. Surely not Doc Church? He was well aware of her aversion to the substance. "Wait a minute.", Lucy raised an eyebrow and slowly turned her head to face Jonathan.

"Moriarty's? You two?", closing her eyes to shut the mental image from her mind, Lucy continued, curious as ever it seemed. "'Miss Kristin', you two are on speaking terms - no - polite terms where you aren't cursing her existence? I mean, I get it.", Lucy narrowed her eyes to give him a sly look, "So what did she put in that food anyway? Or was it your turn to fill her - OW!", Lucy yelped as her head collided with the doorframe to the entrance of Moriarty's Saloon.

Med-X was a terrible thing.

Fortunately, the knock to the head had made her lose that particular train of thought. More somberly, her face fell and her voice had lost any drunken charm while they struggled up the stairs together. It was a terribly slow process, but it gave her enough time to go back to her primary thought. "You shouldn't have saved me. Look at the mess you're in, my mess."

Drunken words were sometimes thought to be honest ramblings. In Lucy's case, that truly was how she felt.
After what felt like a pause in their walking, Lucy untangled herself from Jonathan, feeling a little bit safer that she was inside. Now, to open the door and be greeted by Headache Princess...

Sure enough, Lucy entered the room by pre-emptively putting up her hand for silence. She was savvy enough to silence the Princess before her headache had gotten any worse. Her only greeting however...was silence. Opening her eye, Lucy found someone asleep in a bed for two. Sounds innocent enough, right? Dead wrong. Lucy remembered an armored warrior Princess, not a blonde-haired whore half dressed as a schoolgirl whose chest was ready to burst from a shirt 3 sizes too small.

Turning on her heel, Lucy was prepared to walk out. She would rather proposition #411 for a cup of tea than deal with Jonathan's sexual exploits.

"Okay, seriously? Where's Kristin?", Lucy replied with a hand to her forehead, "Couldn't you pay your entertainment first, so she could leave, before you came to visit me?"

Med-X was a terrible terrible thing.

 

[Generic NPC 22]

The Wild Wastelands | Megaton | The Gates
///Ignorance is (not) an excuse///​

They say that Ignorance is no excuse. Ignorance of the law, ignorance of society, ignorance of culture. It's never an excuse. However, in the case of Thomas "Shifty" McGee, the Former Friendly Neighborhood Undertaker, Arizona, a Ghoul with a Machine Gun and a Mission and Sylphee, ... ummm... well... it's Sylphee, an exception should be made when it came to the current events unfolding in the Wastelands. Thomas had spent a number of weeks spooning a bottle of the ole Shroomshine under a rock somewhere in Rivet City, his mind blasted on the 150 Proof alcohol. Arizona was new to the Wastelands, having migrated there from the West. And Sylphee... ummm... well... it's Sylphee. Had any of them been aware of the ongoing war between the Sylphys and the Garys as well as the mass jettisoning of Raiders from the American Enclave Scouts of America's transport, they might have been prepared for the reception that they received at the gate... namely this:

"Hey! You gonna let us in, or what? We've got caps to spend, and don't plan on causing any trouble." The Old One shouted up to the sentry, her eyes bloodshot and her head pounding from the cranial pounding Sylphee's voice had been inducing the past few hours.

The answer wasn't so much an answer as it was a flurry of Machine gun fire aimed at the small trio of travelers. The staccato of gun fire followed the flurry of bullets that impacted the ground around the three, kicking up a rather large cloud of dust blocking the trio's view of the gate. Though, it should have been noted that it also blocked the sentry's view of the trio that immediately ran for cover.

Crouched behind a small bathtub, Thomas could hear the guard, Timmy calling down his partner, located just behind the gate and looking through a peep hole.

"'Ey Jimmy! It think I popped one of them there Sylphys in the face man! Chu wanna go out there and take a look fer me?" Timmy the Sentry called down to Jimmy who was apparently the brains of the operation since there was a flurry of muffled words that soon followed.

"Others? Oh! They musta been some slavers man! No one would dress up in clothes like and dress his sex slaves in clothes like that unless he was a slaver. I think one of them wuz a zombie, man. That's gross! He's a ghoul fucker and a slaver!" Jimmy answered loudly as he besmirched the good name of Thomas "Shifty" McGee.

Another muffled response came from Timmy down stairs.

"No, I didn' ask fer no names!"

"What in WALT'S NAME is going on?! Why in WALT'S NAME would you shoot at us?!" The Irate Former Undertaker yelled from behind the tub, his voice reflecting the sheer offended nature of his being at having been mistaken for a slaver.

"Oh! Looks like one of them's still alive!" Timmy said as he raised the machine gun again, taking aim towards where he though the voice was coming from, popping off a salad sized salvo of lead in Thomas' general direction.

"HEY! HEEEEEEY! Please, stop shooting at us. I'm Thomas "Shifty" McGee. I'm an Undertaker with the Union! I'm here on business! My companions are Arizona and Sylphee!" Thomas yelled, taking on his old title and hoping that it would at least assist in settling the matter without having to resort to bloodshed. Even the Warner Brothers weren't going to keep Thomas from getting through that gate.

"'Ey Jimmy! One of them says that's he's an Undertaker by the name of Shitty!" Timmy said, not shooting this time and instead waiting for further instructions from Jimmy the Brains, "Says that he's here on bidness."

More muffled responses.

"'Ey you Undertaker. Why're you travelin' with one of them there Sylphys?!" Timmy asked.

"Sylphys? No I'm traveling with just Sylphee!"

"Sylphy!"

"What?!" Thomas asked, his voice clearly sounding quite annoyed by the guard and his mouth.

"Sylphy! That's what they're called, not Sylphee!"

"I don't hear a difference! I said Sylphee! Sylphee! Sylphee! Sylphee!"

"Sylphy! Sylphy! Sylphy! Can't you hear the difference?!"

"No! Walt damn it! No I don't hear a Walt Damn difference!"

"Well, regardless of that, Mister Shitty or whatever you wanna call yerself. You ain't gettin' pass this gate with one of them Sylphys in tow so I suggess you march off!" Timmy said, putting his foot down on the matter.

"What if we just leave her at the gate?"

The question had an obvious effect on the Blue Haired Happy Go Lucky Psychopath, Sylphee the Crimson menace as she hopped out in the open to yell at her Daddy.

"Hey! Hey! Hey! Daddy, you're not leaving me here! I wanna go inside with you. Please take me with you! I wanna go inside Mister Megaton. Please please please please please PLEAAAAAASE!!!!!" Sylphee complained as she hopped up and down, her voice getting louder and louder and louder and louder. At least until she lost her footing, "Oops!"

BAH-BOOOM! Went the Anti Materiel Rifle as it struck the ground and discharged, sending a bullet through the gate. A scream of pain echoed out the hole the bullet had made and was soon followed yelling.

"Man are you sure, Jimmy?"

More muffled yelling.

"Alright! Jimmy says I should let chu in, if you take that there rifle away from that there Sylphy." The guard said, a smirk crossing his face. He never liked Jimmy, not since he learned that Jimmy had been bedding his wife while the guard was on guard duty.

"That's Sylphee!" Sylphee called out, offended that the guard would get her name wrong.

"I still don't hear a difference and I still don't know what in the hell is going on here." Thomas muttered to himself, his voice muffled by the roar of the airplane engine that opened up the gates. Shouldering the Sylphee's rifle, Thomas entered Megaton, relieved that they'd been allowed inside. Since night was fast approaching, Thomas guessed that they'd better go to Moriarty's to get a room before he ran out and in the morning, he'd go check Lucy's house to see if he could find her.

"Let's go get some rooms." The Friendly Former Neighborhood Undertaker stated simply as he walked towards the Saloon whose sign glowed in the distance. The sooner he slept, the sooner morning would come.

[hr]

The Wild Wastelands | Moriarty's Saloon​

It appeared that little had changed since the last time Thomas the Former Undertaker was in Moriarty's Saloon. The drinks still smelled stale and the patrons smelled even worse and yet, despite the obvious lack of anyone taking points in an Interior Design Skill, Shifty McGee felt right at home in the dilapidated building. Entering the Saloon's main room, Thomas noted the uneasy stares that he was receiving as well as Sylphee was receiving.

"Hey there handsome. Been a while." A silky voice said from the corner of the bar, "I was starting to think you forgot about lil' ole me."

Turning to face the voice, Thomas suddenly became nervous as he saw Nova sitting at the bar, cocktail in front of her and a look in her eyes that said "Give me your Caps and I'll give you a great time."

"N... Nova. Yeah... well... has it been that long?" Thomas responded, keenly and uncomfortably aware of the eyes that were looking at him, the eyes that belonged to a certain Crimson Menace, the only one to follow him up to the Saloon since Arizona had complained about a headache and the need for something to quell said headache. "N... Nice seeing you. Ummm... I'm just here for a room."

"You don't want me to come up later? Thomas. I thought we had an understanding." Nova pouted, dipping her chin down to her ample and soft...

"Daddy! I'm tired. Can we get a room yet?" Sylphee whined, thankfully interrupting Nova's game of twist Thomas around her fingers.

"Right... sure... whew." Thomas muttered as he motioned for Moriarty.

"Well if it isn't good ole... WHAT IN THE FUCK IS SHE DOING HERE?!" Moriarty exclaimed as he ducked behind the bar, putting something solid between himself and his previous assailant.

Looking over the bar, the usually wordy Former Undertaker noted that Moriarty was in the duck and cover position, as some sort of Act of God was about to descend upon him and rip his world apart.

"Ummm... rooms? Please?" Thomas said awkwardly as dropped some caps on the bar, the sound of currency bringing the Saloon's proprietor out of his shell, "Three of them."

"This is only enough for 2." Moriarty said, "and to cover the stitches your pal behind you gave me when she sliced me shoulder open like a fish."

"But.. I." Thomas stammered, he was unaware of the fact that Sylphee had been to Moriarty's previously and had in fact impaled the man's shoulder with her wrist blade during her hunt for the Sharply Dressed Man. The realization that something had happened came soon after as Thomas wheeled on the Blue Haired Ditz, "What did you do, young lady?"

"I 'unno." Sylphee responded with a shrug, her smile never leaving her face.

"Fine. Whatever." Thomas said, defeated as he headed up the stairs to one of the rooms, closing it behind him and sitting down on a chair within.

"Bouncy! Bouncy! Bouncy! Bouncy!" Sylphee exclaimed as she found the room's bed and started jumping on it. This was going to be a long night, made even worse by the thinness of the walls.

"Okay, seriously? Where's Kristin?", A feminine voice said, "Couldn't you pay your entertainment first, so she could leave, before you came to visit me?"

 

[Texas Joker 52]

Arizona

The Wild Wastelands | The Dunwich Party | Megaton Gates​

The answer she got from the gate guards was a flurry of gunfire. She swore under her breath and followed Thomas behind a bathtub. She grimly realized only a few moments late that it probably wouldn't stand up to machine gun bullets.

It wasn't long before she heard the guards start wondering just what they had shot at, and two things immediately jumped out at her: First, that there was apparently more than one Sylph out in the wastes. That, in and of itself, was a nightmare she didn't want to accept just yet, especially so soon after their... Road trip. And second, that they thought they were slavers, and that she was male.

"I'M A CHICK YOU DUMB FUCK! THESE TITS AREN'T FOR SHOW, AND IF YOU DON'T LET US IN, SO HELP ME GOD..." she started to roar out at them, before Thomas decided to pull out the charm.

Or at least, what anyone could pass for charm in a situation like that.

As he explained the situation to them, she rubbed her temples with both hands and audibly ground her teeth next to Thomas. It took a few minutes, and when it seemed like they were going to be turned away from Megaton entirely, Sylph managed to pull an "Oopsie" and shot the guard through the gate with her Anti-Materiel Rifle. Purely by accident, of course.

But the muffled screams made her lips spread in a small, cruel smile and a rough chuckle rumble from her throat.

"Serve's the shithead right." she murmured as she grabbed her things and followed Thomas inside.

"Let's go get some rooms."

She turned to him and nodded.

"Good idea. I'm going to head by whoever happens to be the doctor around here and get something for my migraine. If I don't, I can't be held accountable for my actions." she said, her tone taking an edge as she leveled a glare at Sylph.

"I'll meet you at the bar... Shifty." she added with a small smile.

The Wild Wastelands | The Dunwich Party | Moriarty's Saloon​

As it turned out, Doc Church, the man who passed for a doctor in that godforsaken town, was almost as much of a raider as she was if his price gouging was any indication. The price she paid for three syringes of Med-X was tantamount to highway robbery, even with haggling, but she paid it and had immediately took one. So by the time she had gotten up to the building marked as Moriarty's Saloon, she was beginning to feel sweet relief from the migraine.

At least, until she stepped inside and saw the bartender recoil from the sight of Sylph.

"Well if it isn't good ole... WHAT IN THE FUCK IS SHE DOING HERE?!"

Her single eye narrowed on the girl and she shook her head, asking, "Is there anywhere in the Capital Wasteland that you haven't caused trouble in?"

"Ummm... rooms? Please? Three of them."

When Thomas put down a handful of caps onto the bar, the bartender took the chance to come out from behind his cover to take it.

"This is only enough for 2. and to cover the stitches your pal behind you gave me when she sliced me shoulder open like a fish."

At that, Arizona growled low, but she reached into her duffel, pulled out some caps and shoved them across the bar to the man.

"Here. That should be enough for three, and a drink. Gimme a scotch." she snapped.

She glanced back as Thomas and Sylph made their way up to the rooms. When the bartender shoved a dirty bottle in her direction, she snatched it up before promptly following in her companion's wake. All while hoping that Med-X kicked in a little faster.

 

[Neuromancer]

There comes a time in a person's life that, after a series of stressful events and sudden, turbulent changes they gbelieve that they finally get some time to relax, contemplate on what they went through, catch a break.

And then, as things are going well and dandy, as it seems that the situation isn't as bad as it seems, life arrives on the scene with truimphant horns and dancing barely-clothed exotic beauties, takes a look at said person, lets out a cheeky laugh, and slaps them back to reality.

That's how Jonathan felt right now, minus the dancing beauties, because his life was too shit to have that kind of fanservice.

Just as he had left his room bursting with energy, as though a spring of possitivity had manifested within him, so too had it now been devoured by an endless void of negativity, gluttonously devouring whatever last vestiges of liveliness was left within him. His encounter with #411 was the start of a downward spiral of a steadily increasing in intensity guilt trip, culminating with his interaction with the broken, barely-standing Lucy Black.

And so, Jonathan did what he always did when he was on the verge of despair; withdraw to himself. Had he not left his glasses and hat back at the room -and despite the fact that he'd pretty much be blind wearing them in the middle of the night-, he would, as though hardwired to, put on his mask.

"Moriarty's? You two?" stated Lucy inquisitively as she turned to look at him, only for Jonathan to avert his gaze, barely paying attention and staring an unfocused stare at the ground, letting out a weak, submissive "I can explain." before hearing a thump on entrance and a squeal of pain.


"Stop being so self-absorbed!"

Lucy's words, echo though they were, stung like daggers in the back. Her hitting her head on the floor served as a rude wake-up call for him, the girl could hardly walk, and all he was doing was sulk around like a teenager. Getting better hold of her, he hurried through the saloon and up the stairs, certain that the faster he got her a place to sit and rest the better. Carefully placing the bowl of food on the railing behind them, Jonathan reached for his pocket to get the key. As he placed it into the keyhole, however...

"You shouldn't have saved me. Look at the mess you're in, my mess."

He sighed and shook his head as he unlocked the door, before turning to face her, on his face a disapproving, tired look further emphasised by his half-closed eyes.

"A mess that I started to begin with." he stated flatly, motioning her to enter the room with his hand as he turned to grab the bowl. He was too exhausted to play the blame game. His one-eyed companion was quick to free herself of his grip, opening the door and entering the room, only to abruptly take a 180 degree turn, ready to walk out.

"Okay, seriously? Where's Kristin?" she protested, "Couldn't you pay your entertainment first, so she could leave, before you came to visit me?"

"What?" retorted Jonathan sheepishly, alternating glances between Kristin and Lucy, "But... What? Entertain- what? Huh? Eh?"

It took him a few seconds to get the picture. His face looked as one would expect.

"Oh. Oooooooh. No, no, you don't understand. That is Kristin."

He gave the one-eyed girl a few seconds to stomach that.

"As I said, I will explain everything." he said as he sit on the same chair as Kristin, placing the bowl on the nearby table, "Please, take a seat." he finished as he motioned to Lucy to sit on the bed opposite of him.

"So..." he started hesitantly, reluctant to reminisce on today's events, "After you passed out, we-"

Sounds started coming from wall behind him, stopping him in his tracks. They were loud and were as though... as though...

Sounds like someone's having the night of his life.

"Anyway, as I was saying..." he started again with a sigh and shrug, annoyed, "After you passed-" only to be interrupted again as the sounds grew more frequent and louder.

"Ok, that's it. That does it." Jonathan shouted angrily as he got up and headed for the door, "I've had fucking enough for one day. I'm not going to put up with having to listen to some sexually frustrated whoremonger get it on. Not fucking tonight. I've had too fucking much for one fucking day and this is the cherry on the fucking cake." He grabbed the door handle and flung the door open... "This asswipe is either shutting up or-" ... only to hit something with it.

"Oh?"

He heard something crashing down with force, probably from some altitude. Opening the door more causiously, taking studied glances left and right, Jonathan proceeded to look down the railing, where a person had landed on a table.

"Sorry about that!" he shouted, awkwardly scratching the back of his head, "I didn't expect anyone standing- Wait."

He took a better look at the individual that he had just thrown down the railing.

"I... I know you!" he yelled, shocked and surprised at the same time. Though Jonathan was not one to remember names lest the person left an impression, he never forgot faces. And he knew exactly where he saw that face; a certain video feed, at a certain house...

"You're..." he said as he pointed at the man in disbelief, "You're Thomas McGee!"

 

[Generic NPC 22]

The Wild Wastelands | Megaton | Moriarty's Saloon
Then came the darkness...​

Sylphee:

WHAM!!! Went the sound of Mister Door slamming against Daddy and sending him flying over Mister Railing down onto Mister Table before a man, Mister Meanie Man to be exact, looked down at Daddy and pointed at him.

You're... You're Thomas McGee Mister Meanie Man declared loudly and if The Crimson Menace had her way, it would be the last declaration Mister Meanie Man made.

"HEY! HEY! HEY!" Sylphee yelled loudly as she charged the Mister Meanie Man, distracting him from hurting Daddy any further before she jumped up and used the door frame of the room's entrance to swing herself up into the air, landing on Mister Meanie Man's shoulders and locking herself into place.

From Mister Meanie Man's perspective, the world went dark as his face was filled with... something... something warm that had been clad in cotton. He would have felt the long legs of the assailant lock her legs around his head and the sensation of a pleated crimson cotton, the sort of thing that would have been all the rage were there school uniforms still around, wrapped around his head. The sensation of two firm yet soft mounds resting upon his head might have been comforting were it not for the fact that whatever his assailant was doing was blocking his airways even as she attempted to ram her fist through his skull.

And then there was the machine gun that had been loaded with words.

"I-dunno-who-the-hell-you-think-you-are-Mister-Meanie-Man-but-no-one-hits-my-daddy-with-a-door-and-lives. Ow! Why-is-your-head-so-hard-Mister-Meanie-Man?! You're-a-big-meanie-a-big-big-big-big-big-big-big-big-big-big-meanie! I'm-gonna-make-sure-you-never-do-this-to-daddy-again! Ow! Ow! Ow! You're-head-is-super-hard! I'm-gonna-keep-pounding-it-with-my-fist-until-it-lets-me-in!" Sylphee machine gunned her words as she continued her valiant assault on Daddy's assailant, Mister Meanie Man, "He-might-be-mean-to-me-but-he-didn't-do-anything-to-you-Mister-Meanie-Man! So-you-better-say-you're-sorry-or-else-I'm-going-to-keep-fisting-this-until-it-breaks!!"

The assault was relentless as the smothering continued as well as the fisting. What was Mister Meanie Man going to do?!

[hr]

Thomas "Shifty" McGee

The world was darkness, at least for the first few moments after the Undertaker had landed right on top of where Arizona had set her filthy bottle of alcohol. Luckily for Thomas, he had avoided landing directly on top of the bottle and avoided a meeting with Doc Church, who wasn't too gentle with a pair of forceps when fishing broken glass out of someone. Unluckily for Arizona, her traveling companion had landed on the edge of table, breaking one side and turning it into a bottle-pult. The liquor took a high arc in the air, the liquid inside bending the light of the room into little rainbows as it spun. It was to also be an unlucky moment for the Saloon's proprietor as he watched the arcing bottle sail high into the air, never bothering to move, never bothering to make an estimation as to where the bottle would land.

CLUNK!! The bottle landed, the impact of the landing lessened by the fact that it had landed on Moriarty's skull before taking another bouncing tumble back towards its owner, like some sort of demented and fermented boomerang.

CLUNK!! The bottle landed once again, this time on the chest of the ailing Undertaker, knocking what little air he had left completely out of his lungs.

"Ssss... Ssssssss... Sssssssssssss." Thomas attempted to say to Arizona as he pointed a wavering finger in the direction of where he heard the machine gunning of words and thocking of fist against skull, "Sssssss... sto... sto... stop... h...he....her."

Apparently, he was asking Arizona to stop Sylphee from murdering yet another person. But there remained the fact that he was just assaulted by Sylphee's assaultee. Why would the Breathless Blue Eyed Undertaker want to show mercy to a man that had not only almost killed him, but almost committed the cardinal sin of wasting alcohol?

"He... heeeee... he...know...m..m...my...name."

 

[Texas Joker 52]

Arizona

The Wild Wasteland | The Dunwich Party | Moriarty's Saloon​

Med-X was a wonderful drug. It relieved almost any kind of physical pain in such a way that, even though you technically still felt it, as far as you're concerned, it was happening to someone else and there was no reason to give a damn. At least, that was how it was supposed to work, when the person who took it didn't have an intense migraine due to a little blue-haired maniac. And it certainly didn't help when that person was a Ghoul, and Ghouls were pretty notoriously resistant to most forms of drugs, which was part of why Ultrajet was created, or so some said.

As such, Arizona's head pounding started to intensify as she watched Thomas get knocked back by a flung-open door and land on the very table she had momentarily set her Scotch onto. Her single eye tracked the filthy bottle as it sailed through the air and knocked the bartender over the head, all without somehow breaking in the process, before twirling back towards her.

She smartly stepped back, when it landed on Thomas's chest, making him wheeze out what breath he had. All the while, Sylph had decided to latch onto the face of the man who was responsible for Thomas's fall and was trying to beat his skull in. To top it all off, her mouth was running a mile a minute.

Ignoring the spectacle, she leaned forward and loomed over Thomas with as much of a sympathetic expression as she could manage in her current mood.

"Do you ever have any good luck?" she asked dryly.

"Sssssss... sto... sto... stop... h...he....her... He... heeeee... he...know...m..m...my...name."

She blinked for a moment, then slowly looked up at the scene and sighed.

"Oh good Christ..." she murmured before striding over, grabbing a chair along the way.

She set the chair up so she could stand atop it and grabbed Sylph from behind, wrapping her arms up and around Sylph's.

"Sylph, stop beating on him, and Miss Arizona will give you a treat. Does that sound good?" she asked wearily, all the while trying to tug the girl off of the poor man.

 

[The Harkinator]

The Three Musketeers - A morning of varying comfort.

*THUNK*

Exactly what sound Dudley Sullivan made as he tried to shift in the child sized bed, cracked the timbers, and went crashing to the floor was up for debate. But *THUNK* is close enough for now. In an instant, Evan and William were in his room brandishing weapons, scanning the area with their eyes for the attacker. In unison they both looked down and saw Dudley lying on the ground in the middle of a broken bed.

"Who've you got in here then Duds? Where have you hidden her, the toybox?" Asked William in a jovial tone, opening the trunk at the foot of the bed to reveal a few scraps of junk. He tapped the lid back down with his foot.

"Whaddya mean?" muttered the heap of Dudley amidst the broken bed.

"You must have been really enthusiastic to break the damn thing in half." Replied William, lowering him pistol.

"Tell us Dudley, how are you feeling? What were the details?" joked Evan, recalling the last conversation they had. Just as quickly as the words left his mouth Evan did a double take at William, as for the first time he noticed what he was wearing. "William... why are you wearing a blanket, what happened to your shirt?" Inquired Evan, who had slept in his clothes, as he always did. William for his part looked like a huggable cocoon with feet, a head, and one arm sticking out.

"My clothes are back in my room, if you sleep in them too long they start to smell. The main bedroom had a bathtub and some abraxo cleaner in it. If you put some water in the tub and soak your clothes overnight in the abraxo for an hour, they dry clean and fresh. I've been wearing those bloody things for over a week now, they've started to smell quite badly." Explained William, before continuing with, "And there's nothing wrong with the blanket, it's comfortable." William gave a defensive shrug and pulled it tighter around his shoulders.

Evan gave his Pip-Boy a quick check and realised it had gone seven in the morning. Any time they wasted now was precious daylight gone they'd lose for travel. "Guys, we'd better start getting up. There's more travelling to do, and we can't waste time. Pack everything up, we'll have breakfast downstairs at eight. No going back to sleep either, this alarm clock was one use only." Evan indicated to Dudley with a wave of his arm.

"I'm already packed, so I'll go back ta bed if ya don't mind. I trust ya to wake me up in time for breakfast." Said Dudley, before rolling over to face the wall and didn't speak again. William and Evan left the room, and William shuffled back into his room.

"In that case, I'm going back to bed too. I'll spend the next ten minutes pretending the world isn't an irradiated husk of dead rock." He said, somewhat sleepily.

"And you're king of an island of scantily clad women, where there's food and water wherever you want it?" Asked Evan, who would be spending his time recording the latest events of their journeys into his Pip-Boy. Record keeping was an important task, and one day people might want to know how all this had happened.

"Yeah, something like that." Yawned William, as he closed the door behind him. Evan heard an audible *WHUMP* a second later, presumably William had just decided to fall onto the bed.

---Some time later---

The Three Musketeers were getting back on the road about half past eight by Evan's reckoning. Riding towards the rising sun, they carried onwards in their quest to find Isaac Black. He was out there somewhere, and these three were going to find him.

 

[Anti-American Eagle]

Talion - Old Olney

"What, that? They're really not that uncommon anymore. I'm David Davidson, lord of the Empire of Dave. We're a growing thing up north. That mutant was once a crazed Enclave doctor who'd covered the Capital Wastelands in newly-created Behemoth mutants. You can ask anyone. It's true."

Talion thought about it as the man talked. He had heard of the republic of dave and what he knew of them was limited though, he didn't hear anything about them possessing Vertibirds. And then he heard it, in his ears and his minds eye as it came into view the machine sitting on his list as a target for destruction.

Its appearance, what was known of it anyway as it had been described was something that made him wonder now as it opened fire on a deathclaw. So either the man was lying, this was a different machine, or the republic of dave was under enclave control. It was either the first or the third.

"So...lunch?"

What to do? His first thought was to throw the bomb he had prepared earlier at the machine, shoot Dave, and run. But that was something he doubted he would survive, and he doubted simply throwing the bomb would kill it. He thought he would have range to approach it from, but it sitting there what felt like watching him made open hostility difficult at this range.

"Lunch?" was what came out of his mouth unsure of how to act, "Yes. Lunch."

 

[Rip Van Rabbit]

Lucy Black - Megaton

'Unyielding'​

Taking a seat on the bed next to a now-confirmed sleeping Kristin and massaging her temples, Lucy Black tried in vain to soothe the growing headache in the midst of her new environment. Moriarty's Saloon. Packed to the brim with sounds of jovial laughter/shouting/clinking of bottles and the perpetual creaking of bedsprings between the adjacent paper-thin walls, Lucy wondered if it was Jonathan's or Kristin's idea to stay here for the night. Surely the self-proclaimed 'Princess' would have some reservations regarding her surroundings...

"Ok, that's it. That does it." Jonathan shouted angrily, snapping Lucy's wondering mind back to her immediate reality. He seemed upset, unreasonably so and after a certain delay and having Jonathan leaving the room, the One-Eyed Lady got up to go see what the fuss was about. It was a loud crash and a series of shouting from downstairs that first set off the alarm bells in her head.

Feeling somewhat unsteady, Lucy grabbed the nearest object resting on the bedside table to support her weight and ensure that she wasn't hassled along the way.

"You're Thomas McGee!"

What?

Lucy's eye immediately darted to the doorway, catching sight of a crimson flash sweeping Jonathan out of sight with a familiar yelling.

"HEY! HEY! HEY!"

"Sylphee!", Lucy shouted to get her "sister's" attention. No use.

With great effort, Lucy pulled at Kristin's bumper sword - a weapon with the words 'Tempus Neminem Manet' inscribed on one side of the blade - and discovered that she could lift the heavy weapon just enough to rest it on her shoulder. How Kristin carried it so casually was a mystery.

No doubt, the Crimson Catastrophe herself was here: Slylph, or more accurately in her childlike form, Sylphee. Regardless of form, Lucy knew that Jonathan's life was at risk.

Leaving the room and dragging Kristin's sword behind her, the growing sounds of commotion downstairs were dying down as steel agonisingly grinded itself against the metal flooring as if a Deathclaw was given a chalkboard for it's birthday. The sword made a loud thud for each step of the staircase. With each laborious step, Lucy's arrival was slowly being announced.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs and turning the corner, things had become somewhat more clear. A familiar man, known to her as Thomas Shifty McGee was sprawled on the floor, clearly in pain. Glancing to her immediate left, someone was successfully prying Sylph from Jonathan.

Unfortunately, due to the bystander effect, the population of the Salooon crowded around Shifty and Sylph for the sake of free entertainment.

Lucy's temper shattered and the immediate few in her vicinity tripped over one another as Lucy put all her strength into lifting the reinforced bumper sword above her head to send it crashing down into the floor. The metallic crash echoed through the establishment and Lucy was met with silence, glares and unholstered guns in her face.

With her lips curled and teeth bared, the very hostile One-Eyed female hissed, "I fucking dare you. Now move!"

Sure enough, the immediate crowd cleared a path to the man sprawled on the ground. Lucy dragged the blade from the dented floor, dropped it to the floor once she reached Shifty's side and laid a hand to his cheek once she had dropped onto her knees.

"You better not be dead, Thomas...Shifty...McGee.", Lucy's voice softened for him, but that was the only thing that was gentle about the Lucy we know now.

Laying a hand on his chest and another on his neck, Lucy's fingers clawed into his skin as she lustfully kissed him. Ravenously biting his lower lip, Lucy murmured hungrily after her tongue flicked at the source of the metallic taste of blood.

"Get up..."

As terrible as he tasted and smelled, her heart did not care, he was here...and she won't be seperated from him again.

"You have 10 seconds before I stop holding back.", Lucy murmured with a mischievous smile, tracing a finger along his neck in the meantime.

 

[Texas Joker 52]

Arizona

The Wild Wastelands | Splitting Paths | Moriarty's Saloon​

As Arizona tried to pry Sylph off of the suffocating man, a slow grinding noise started to make its way to the growing crowd. A thud punctuated it every second or so as it grew louder. The Ghoul spared a glance from the blue-haired troublemaker to watch as a one-eyed, black haired girl lugging a massive sword behind her that was easily longer than she was tall. The sight was enough to make her pause and watch as she made her way to the crowd of bystanders, then hefted it.

Arizona had to admit that she was impressed that the girl had managed to lift it off of the ground and over her head at all, but then she crashed it down to get everyone's attention. Said attention included quite a few guns coming out of their holsters. She bared her teeth at that and gave them an admirably menacing hiss.

"I fucking dare you. Now move!"

Each bystander moved with the kind of speed that told you that they suddenly had something very important to do somewhere else, and cleared her a path. Straight to Thomas.

When she reached him, she knelt next to him and placed a hand on his cheek, saying something the old Ghoul couldn't quite make out. Not that she needed to. The fierce, lusty kiss that she laid on the man was enough to make even Arizona's blood heat up, but she couldn't help a small smile at the sight. It seemed that Thomas had found his girl, Lucy Black. Not so unlucky after all, she thought to herself before turning back to Sylph and fully pulling her off of the man.

"Come on, Sylph. I'll give you your 'treat' outside once I take care of a few things." she told her, before striding over to the newly reunited couple.

"You have 10 seconds before I stop holding back."

The girl had pulled him to his feet after thoroughly kissing him, and was currently tracing a finger along his neck. So when Arizona reached them, she placed her hands on her hips and smirked at them.

"I take it that's Lucy Black then, huh Thomas?" she asked.

 

[Generic NPC 22]

The Wild Wastelands | Megaton | Moriarty's Saloon and Sexhaus
Am I dead?
-Thanks to [user]Texas Joker 52[/user] for the assistance-​

[small]"You better not be dead, Thomas...Shifty...McGee."[/small]

It has been said that when you die, the souls of those who loved you in life appear before you to guide you into the realm of the departed. The sweet sound of the voice belonging to Lucy Black told Thomas "Shifty" McGee that he must have died. After all he had gone through, it seemed such a tragedy to have died due to an accident and on the unsanitary floor of Moriarty's Saloon of all places. He would have rather died, heroically or wastefully, on the battlefield, protecting those he cared for. He would have rather than the Enclave had killed him outright rather than have spared his miserable life. The even larger tragedy was the fact that despite all that he'd done to protect her, Lucy Black was still here, ready to guide him to the afterlife. He wanted to take a moment to apologize to her for failing her and for being dead... and he would have were his lips not suddenly covered by her's.

So it wasn't exactly a text book example of cardio-pulmonary resuscitation, but it did get the job done. His already overworked pain receptor's registered the bite that Lucy had imparted on the man's lips, informing him that he was not dead. Far from it, there was still some life in the old boy yet. Looking up from where he lay, he saw her: The woman who he had shared a quieter moment with before an impending battle, the mousy bookworm of a lady that he stolen his hat and perhaps something far more significant from his chest. A woman who made Thomas feel like he'd attempted to swallow the world every time he swallowed around her. But he also saw what had been lost. It wasn't just her eye, it was beyond physical. She'd been hardened. Whether it was from the Enclave's machinations or life's machinations or simply the choice that he'd forced upon her, to leave him behind, he couldn't rightly tell. There would be time to delve into this, he hoped. But her voice, the voice that he'd have gutted a Deathclaw with his bare hands to hear once more broke through and quieted his swirling thought.

"You have 10 seconds before I stop holding back." She commanded, as follow up to the ecstasy filled kiss that she'd bestowed upon his nearly departed form.

It's said that for every second that an Undertaker blushes, even a former one such as Shifty, an infant spontaneously bursts into a small, flailing, crying pile of flames. If this legendary old wives' tale were true, surely 10 infants had met a fiery demise due to the reddish tinge that Lucy had brought to the Former Undertaker's cheeks. The fact that Arizona was nearby, hands on her hips and a devilish smirk on her face, did not help the situation, or the infant population of the Wastelands.

"I take it that's Lucy Black then, huh Thomas?" Thomas' ghoulish compatriot asked, causing the spontaneous combustion of a few more wailing infants.

"Y... yeah. Arizona, this is Lucy Black. Lucy, this is Arizona. She managed to rescue me from some... troubles in Rivet City." Thomas managed to stammer. There was a certain amount of shame in his voice, not associated with the ghoul mind you but rather how trouble had managed to find the former Undertaker of the East. Namely, he'd attempted to hide in the bottom of a bottle in reaction to the false news that Lucy had been killed.

"HEY HEY HEY! Who's this lady? Why's she biting Daddy's face off? What's going on here? Is daddy okay? Did he break a bone? Did he break a bone in his pants? Is that what's sticking up out of his pants?" Came the familiar machine gun phrase crafting of one particularly annoying Crimson Menace.

"She's one of Daddy's good friends," Arizona said automatically, "She wasn't biting his face off, and he seems to be just fine. The deal with his pants is a subject for another time. Or do you not want your treat?"

"Treat? Oooooh. Rad Scorpion Sundae? Rad Scorpion under glass? Rad Scorpion Sandwiches? Rad Scorpion Stroganoff? Rad Scorpion Salad? Rad Scorpion Surprise? Rad Scorpion Succotash?" Went the Bubba of Rad Scorpions excitedly, threatening to knock the earth out of orbit with her incessant hopping.

"Ummmm... well... I... erm... I... huh." The Crimson Cheeked Undertaker stammered as he stood up, "Just happy to see Lucy after so long."

It wasn't exactly a lie, it just didn't explain the whole business with the pants and such. But still, Arizona had successfully switched topics on the Crimson Commando and now found herself being dragged out of the saloon by the Blue Haired Wonder.

"Just don't give her any chems." Shifty said to the receding forms of Arizona and Sylphee.

As she was dragged out by Sylphee, Arizona couldn't help but roll her eye. But she took the time to stop the hyperactive girl for a moment to turn back to Lucy and Thomas.

"Once you two are done 'catching up'? Tell Lucy to come see me outside. Girl-to-girl talk." she said, smirking as she winked at them, before turning back to Sylph and striding out.

As she did, the distinct sound of her muffled voice said something about the treat being better[/u] than Rad Scorpions. Though as the voices faded into the Megatonian darkness, a new voice came to drown out the rest.


Looking at Lucy, Thomas could only hazard a nervous smile. The last time he'd heard this song it nearly broke his heart asunder. He'd blasted the damned jukebox and gotten into trouble. This time, though, it almost broke him for another reason. Despite the happiness he felt at having been reunited with Lucy Black, he knew it was temporary. He'd promised Arizona that he'd escort her to the Dunwich building. At the time he made the promise, he'd only had the desire to die along the way. Now he had a reason to survive.

Looking down at the Mousy Haired Gauss Rifle Wielding Damsel, he couldn't suppress the smile that wormed its way to the surface. He bent down to kiss her. It was the kind that communicated the hunger that he'd felt in his soul. The thirst that those stranded in the desert feel before they die.

"I... I'm really very glad to see you, Lucy. I... can't tell you how much I've waited for this moment." Thomas started to say before he could pump the brakes on his mouth, "There was just so much that I wanted to tell you before we were separated last time... but now that you're here, standing in front of me, I can't seem to remember what I wanted to tell you... "

Seeing as how there were still quite a number of eyes on them, the Former Undertaker took the Former Gauss Girl by the hand and lead her up the stairs, the door closing softly after their passage.

 

[Texas Joker 52]

Arizona & SYLPHEE

The Wild Wastelands | Splitting Paths | Megaton​

Before Arizona did anything about Sylphee's promised 'treat', she stopped off at the Craterside Supply to buy a few things from the eccentric redhead there for the rest of the journey. Just the essentials: Ammo, cigarettes and decent booze. She didn't trust the look of the stuff in Moriarty's, and her standards weren't that low. When she stepped back outside, however, she could tell the Crimson Menace was starting to get impatient.

Sylphee was indeed as impatient, if not more, than Arizona had observed. For one, she didn't like waiting for promised treats. Delayed gratification had one issue to it, the delayed part. The Crimson Crusader was a creature of the now, not later. While Arizona was inside for whatever it was that she'd been inside for, Sylphee was left outside to her own devices, which, if Arizona had known Sylphee just a little longer, would not have been the smartest idea.

The wooden railing underneath Sylphee's feet complained rather loudly as she paced back and forth atop the old rotten wood. The pattern was repeated, step - step - sigh, step - step - sigh like some sort of demented waltz of impatience. Nearby, a recently deputized sheriff was talking... no... ordering the blue haired heroine off of the railing.

"Look, kid, you've got a lot to live for. Just don't jump! We don't need that sort of trouble. You could accidentally set off the bomb and you'd kill us all."

This... ranting and yelling had little effect on the crimson menace, who continued her vigil outside of Craterside Supply. Seeing Arizona, Sylphee jumped happily off of the railing, bouncing over the deputy who had little time to react as he took a rather unfortunate stumble, through the railing and into the crater below.

"Daaaaaaaaamn ittttttt!" THUD!

"Treat? Treat? Treat?" Sylphee treated incessantly.

Arizona rushed to look over the railing to see just where the man had landed. With a slow grimace, she looked up at Sylphee and shook her head slightly. It was quickly becoming clear to her that she needed full-time supervision, and preferably something to keep her occupied. Otherwise, she would probably end up killing everyone around her on accident. Though, she didn't exactly have a hard time putting Sylphee's latest victim out of her mind. It wasn't as if she knew him, after all.

"Right. Treat. You like music, Sylph? Or Sylphee, whichever you prefer." Arizona waved off as she reached into her duffel bag for her harmonica.

When she pulled it out, she flipped it in the air and caught it deftly.

The Crimson Menace tweeked her head to the side in slight confusion. Music wasn't exactly what Sylphee would have called a treat and so if Missy Arizona Not Old One Not Leather Faced Lady Not Ghoul Whore With The Gun was calling this a treat, she clearly was not one to be trusted. However, as Daddy said, not everyone's idea of fun was the same, or someone Sylphee had called Daddy at one time or another had said, if Missy Arizona Not Old One Not Leather Faced Lady Not Ghoul Whore With The Gun thought that this was a treat, it couldn't have been all THAT bad, could it have.

"Music's fine... I guess." Sylphee said, not even bothering to mask the amount of disappointment in her voice.

"OH GOD MY BACK!!!" A voice screamed from the depths of the crater, only to be drowned out by the shrill note that Missy Arizona Not Old One Not Leather Faced Lady Not Ghoul Whore With The Gun played as she cleared the harmonica of the traveling dust that had gathered in it crevices.

Though the note was not without its effects, however, as Sylphee started to feel a little strange, the gem having vibrated with the tone that Arizona had just played.

"Damn thing's got dust in it." she murmured, shaking it a little without so much as sparing a glance at the scream behind her.

There were other people in Megaton that could help him, and as it was, she considered keeping Sylphee occupied more important. After all, it stopped her from doing that to anyone else in town. So when she put the harmonica back to her chapped lips, she started to play a fast, humming tune.


The sound seemed to carry on the evening air, and as she slowed down a little, it seemed to carry with it a slight melancholy feeling. That was part of why she grew to love the blues, it was something that everyone had felt before and could relate to in the wastes.

For some reason the notes that came out of Missy Arizona Not Old One Not Leather Faced Lady Not Ghoul Whore With The Gun's harmonica were SUPER effective at keeping the Runt in Red occupied though for whatever reason, Sylphee had no control over what happened next. The broken railing was as good a stage as any for what happened next.

Sylphee hopped up on it, her eyes a blank slate as she balanced perfectly on the toe of her left foot, her right foot held out to counterbalance her top half which leaned precariously to the left. A simple kick with her right caused her to pirouette to her left, spinning in time to the rapid fire notes that came with the songs introduction before the tempo slowed, allowing the Crimson menace to plant her hands down on the makeshift balance beam, her legs coming up over her head, her skirt collapsing down, drawing a crowd leering men around Missy Arizona Not Old One Not Leather Faced Lady Not Ghoul Whore With The Gun and the All Singing All Dancing Blue Haired Ballerina.

Pirouette, Plie, chasse, brise. A strange juxtaposition of moves when coupled with the song but strangely enough it fit and for what it was worth, Sylphee appeared to be enjoying herself, though she had not a single clue as to what she was doing. As she continued the dance, the men grew closer and closer, each one wanting to get a touch of the pale soft flesh that made an appearance every so often.

The end note... a vibrating note that faded into nothing... was soon joined by a chorus of epithets.

"WHAT?!"

"ARRRG!"

"NO! NO! NOOOO!!!"

The bouncing had not been without consequence. The choker that was normally around Sylphee's neck lay at Arizona's feet and Sylphee... or rather Sylph stood atop something else... a pile of corpses.

Stretching, Sylph regarded Arizona for a moment before.

"Thank you." Sylph said simply.

During her performance, Arizona focused on nothing but the music itself, her single eye closing so she could better appreciate the sound. She didn't notice Sylphee's dancing, or the men that had started to gather around to watch the blue-haired girl tease them with flashes of soft skin and subtle curves. When she finished, she looked up to see Sylph staring at her calmly, sans choker, but standing a little taller thanks to the pile of bodies that she was on top of. Thanking her.

The Ghoul promptly took a step back and examined her handiwork, before looking up at her with exasperation.

"You know, I did that with the hope that you wouldn't kill anyone else." she said dryly.

"Sorry." The Crimson Menace said flatly, sounding not sorry at all, infact quite the opposite of sorry, "You'd do that to if you were stuck watching that blathering idiot of a sister of mine do whatever she fancied that moment."

Of course there was the issue of corpses, something that the local law enforcement wouldn't be keen on finding were they to find the pile of bodies. The answer was simple, not be in the immediate area when the bodies were found. Walking away, Sylph motioned for the musically inclined Ghoul to follow, though what kind of person would follow a girl into the darkness after having witnessed her kill a half dozen to kill her sense of annoyance?

After a short pause, Arizona glanced around before shoving her harmonica back into her bag and following Sylph into the night, though not before snatching up the choker. But she kept her hands close to the reassuring weight of Lester, hanging at her front.

 

[Neuromancer]

No sooner had Jonathan shouted towards the man that he had accidentally smacked with the door and thrown down the railing than he was assaulted, as something -or someone- crashed on his head from behind, and before his brain could process what was happening, the world went dark.

Wha-?

Worse still, whatever it was that was binding his was also applying excessive amounts of pressure, and Jonathan was having a hard time grasping for breath.

And then the blow upon his head came, a blow that felt like a hammer falling upon an anvil.

Even worse, it wasn't the only one. A barrage followed, as though his head had turned into a punching bag, getting "oraoraoraora"'d by an experienced boxer. The whole world -not that it was much , considering he was blinded- whirled as pain flared ever more violently with each blow, and Jonathan; confused, blind, under assault and getting choked to death, was losing what little balance he had thanks to hanging onto the railing.

Much like how prey give one last fight to break free as a predator sinks its teeth into their neck, Jonathan jerked and twisted his body in a desperate attempt to get loose from his binds, but alas, the barrage of blows and oxygen deprivation had taken their toll, and he fell on his knees, consciousness rapidly failing.

He wanted to scream, to plead for someone to help, but he didn't have the air, he didn't have the energy to even whimper.

Lucy... help... I- I need-

Well, isn't this a sorry state of affairs.

Jonathan's eyes widened, as though he was having a rude awakening by bucket full of ice-cold water. Why her? Why now? Why, of all people, did he have to content with her in his final moments?

On death's throes and you're still a rude jackass, he heard an exasperated sigh, I suppose I shouldn't have expected more from a fuck-up. Still... I must say, of all the shit that you've been through the past 24 hours, this one takes the cake, her tone was one of barely contained amusement, You sure have a penchant for near-death experiences, don't you?

Ignore her. He needed to ignore her and find a way out of this. But how? As much as he tried, he couldn't shake off his assailant. Fall off the railing? No, he didn't have the energy for that, and even if he did, with his luck he'd break his neck in the landing. No, he had no hope. Except Lucy. She'd see him and help him, he was sure of it.

She's not going to help you, Jon.

No! Ignore the venom-spitting hag! Lucy was dependable! She would save him!

The flurry of blows came to an end, and he could feel his assailant struggling to hold on. Someone was helping him! She was wrong! Lucy was saving him! Lucy was-

Oh, for fuck's sake, Jon! she exploded in anger, You're blind, not deaf! Haven't you been hearing what's going on? Lucy saw you like you are. She even shouted "Sylphy", whatever the fuck that means. And she abandoned you. Just straight up abandoned you. Didn't you hear her footsteps? The sound of something heavy hitting the floor? She left, Jon! Stop being so self-absorbed and focus!

And as she commanded so did he obey, and Jonathan, soon-to-pass-out as he were, for the first time since he was attacked listened. A man with a raspy voice was talking to this... Sylph as he called her, promising her treats if she let him go.

And, surprising though it was, Sylph did let him go. He fell on the floor, with a firm grasp on his neck, coughing heavily as blessed air filling his nostrils once more.

You look like shit.

His head pulsated from the pain; indeed, his left eye felt like it was about to burst out. Had he a mirror to see his wounds, he'd see his left eye, bloodshot as it were, swollen and already turning black from bruising. His forehead was filled with bruises and small cuts, along with a larger wound that was bleeding, not heavily enough to risk death by bloodloss, but enough to run down his face like a small waterfall and make him feel dizzy -or rather, dizzier than he already was-.

Well, at least you're alive. How unfortunate, eh? Hey... ya listenin'?

Spinning though his head was, Jonathan could clearly see her appear in front of him, her form hidden in darkness, only a silhouette visible. And she was... pointing. Downstairs.

Take a look.

With visible effort, Jonathan grabbed the railing and pulled his body upwards, looking down at the mess of a saloon. His vision was poor; he could hardly focus his gaze, what with the room spinning around and his left eye taking a vacation to throbbing-pain-land.

But he saw it.

I told you, didn't I?

Lucy was holding McGee.

Call me whatever you want, but unlike you I am no liar.

And she was... kissing him. Then she really...

Aww... what's with that face? You look like a betrayed puppy promised snacks only to have its entrails gutted out for lunch! Johnny boy, Johnny boy. When will you learn?

He wanted to leave, go, anywhere than here would do. Even a deathclaw nest. Especially a deathclaw nest. At least they killed relatively quickly. But the world spinned, and he could barely keep balance as he stood up without any kind of support.


Woah, woah there! she said as he stumbled, barely avoiding a fall, Easy there, pardner! You look like you need a...


...HAND!

He felt as though his face was hit with a baseball bat as he crashed down on the floor, he world around him twisting and turning and twirling rapidly. But it wasn't doing just that.

Blink. He always hated that ceiling. How many years had he spent his nights staring at its light, wishing he wasn't trapped in this damn bunker doing this stupid job.

Blink. Wooden walls and ceilings weren't something he was used at. He hadn't spent so much many nights in one place since his Enclave years, much less with other people. But he hoped he'd spend many a night more.

Ooooh Johnnyyyy Boyyyy!

Blink. He was back at the saloon, staring at the rusty ceiling. Realizing that what little he understood of reality was crumbling around him, he turned and faced Kristin's room, a bright light emanating from within.

The light, Jon! Go towards the liiight!

Using the door frame as support, Jonathan laboured his way back on his feet, taking small confused steps towards the light.

Blink. He was outdoors, now, the night sky filled with stars, surrounded by dead familiar and not, a lone man standing in front of him. He felt like his stomach was ready to burst, and indeed, when he touched his belly he felt blood spilling out.

"You're lucky I found you when I did," said Isaac as he reached out his hand, "You look like you could use a hand." Jonathan reached out to him...


...Only to grasp at thin air. Blink. He was back at the saloon room again, falling facedown to the ground. A loud thud was head as he landed, splattering blood from his wound on the ground, as he groaned in pain.

Didn't your mother teach you to watch your step?

He felt like throwing up. The room spun like a carousel shortcircuited into going faster than a rollercoster, but in the centre of it all was the light. He had to get to the light. Crawling, for he had not the strength to stand up again, he slowly made his way, as what was real and what was false intermixed. A teenage girl wearing a backpack stared.A couple of people lay in a pool of blood. Move faster, damn you. Move! His father surrounded by figures clad in pitch black armour. Light. He had to get to the light!

And what lies beyond it iiiis...


The light disintergated as he reached it, and with it went his hope. The light left, but the images remained. Terrible, terrible images! He pulled himself into a sitting position, his back against the bed, as he stared outside the door, sobbing. A bitter smile accompanied her crying. The dead looked shocked, betrayed. A break; two people, both familiar passed the door holding hands. Betrayal. His father gave him a mournful glance as he was carried away by the men.

Looks like some one-eyed girl's about to get some. Isn't life unfair?

Yes, it looked so indeed. And here he lay, bleeding and hallucinating, tossed aside now that he was no longer needed. His head was feeling lighter, as was his sight getting cloudier; conciousness was starting to leave him, though whether it was due to the pain, the blood loss or the trauma that he was experiencing, no one could say.


He felt alone, above all. It was a wierd feeling, he'd spent most of his life alone, but this loneliness was different; heavy, suffocating, threatening to swallow him whole. For the first time in a long while, Jonathan was in desperate need of support.

"Help... me..." he wimpered, shaking his head. Why did she abandon him like that? Was it revenge for her father? But he tried to help... he tried...

"Please..." he turned to the bed. Kristin was laying on it. Could she help him? Only one way to find out. Eyesight failing, reached out to grab her, to get her attention, oblivious of the fact that his handing had landed on her butt cheek, or that his attempts to hold on to her would likely look like he was groping her heavily.

"Help me... please..." he pleaded ever more weakly as he lay his head on the bed, blood turning the sheets red, as everything faded to black, "Don't leave me... Lilly..."