aaaaaaaagh_sky

The western sun's rays slanting across the Wasteland cast long shadows, reminding Ellen that as much as she wants to reach DC and find out what the situation is at the Lincoln Memorial, she's going to need to get some rest first. It's a long way from the Temple of the Union to the ruins. She's tired, Dogmeat's tired, and the temperature's dropping fast as it gets darker. Plus, her armor's starting to hum the Battle Hymn of the Republic, which Ellen figures is never what you'd call a good sign. Luckily there's a shack up ahead, one with a door she can open and close. "What do you think, Dogmeat?" she asks. "Does it smell okay to you?"

Dogmeat raises no objections, so she tries the door. It's solid enough. There's a table with a radio on it to one side; the radio's got enough juice left in its fission battery that it picks up the GNR signal when she turns it on. Unfortunately, when she moves to survey the rest of the place, her Geiger counter starts going off as she approaches the far corner of the room.

"Blast. It's not worth the Rad-X we'd both need," Ellen says to Dogmeat. "We'd better find somewhere else."

As they head out of the shack she pulls the door closed behind her, hard. It's not really built for that, so when it hits the doorframe it bounces open again. Pity she didn't turn around at the sound, because she'd've caught sight of the light of Milliways leaking through the inch or so that the door bounces open.

And anyone in Milliways who happens to be looking at the right spot at the right time will notice the door that suddenly opened an inch or so, letting in the cool evening air.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

thanksrainman

"I sure hope you know what you're talking about." He flicks the cigarette butt into the dust and crams his hands into his pocket.

Suddenly, being trapped in a pseudo-prison for the rest of forever seems much, much more bearable.

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

"Of course I do. I'm still alive, aren't I?" says Ellen. "Oh, hey. Brahmin."

She points to a cluster of reddish-brown animals up ahead in the distance, gnawing on a patch of dry yellowish grass and some of the scrubby local bushes. They're about the size of... oh, say a good-sized Buick. And they're cattle. Very definitely cattle.

... two-headed cattle, but still cattle.

From:

thanksrainman

Gus nearly says something, but he seems to have forgotten how. At least this explains the question about how many heads a moose has.

"Is this thing gonna eat us, too?" he asks finally.

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

"No, they're herbivores," Ellen says. "Useful ones, too. Leather, milk, meat, even the dung if you're really desperate for fuel and you give it time to dry. The caravan traders use them as pack animals."

From:

thanksrainman

"That's the first sane thing you've said yet," Gus says dryly.

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

"Oh, pish-posh," says Ellen. "Everything I've said is perfectly sane, it's just that it's all about a world that's completely crazy."

From:

thanksrainman

"Pish-posh?" Gus asks. "Who says 'pish-posh'?"

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

"What, you'd rather I say 'fiddlesticks'?" says Ellen. "I don't think so."

From:

thanksrainman

The looks she gets is a very blank stare.

"You're out here blowing people up, and you talk like a fucking nun," he points out.

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

"I did spend three years training to become Vault chaplain," Ellen says. "That's longer than I've been shooting people."

From:

thanksrainman

He blinks. "I forgot about that," he says.

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

"I didn't," says Ellen, as they make their way along the remains of the road and into a dip in the landscape. "I don't know if there's much call for that kind of thing out here these days, but it still leaves a mark, you know?"

From:

thanksrainman

"I met a reverend, once," Gus says. "He shot me."

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

"Yes, you told me," says Ellen. "And I'm very sorry to hear that. Being shot is extremely unpleasant."

From:

thanksrainman

"Yeah," he says. "I don't want it to happen again."

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

"Then- then this should be easy," comes a man's stammering voice from up ahead. The fellow who steps out from behind a chunk of fallen cement is blond, with short, raggedy hair, and wears a leather vest and trousers over a dirty white T-shirt. He's got a sawed-off shotgun in his hand, and he levels it at Gus. "Okay, now- just- just give me all your caps and there won't be any trouble, okay?"

From:

thanksrainman

Gus reels back, his hands in the air. "Woah! What?" he demands, all the colour drained from his face. "I haven't got any, I swear to god!"

He looks to Ellen, expecting a bit of help. Never mind that he still has the pistol she'd given him tucked into the front of his trousers.

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

Ellen eyes the would-be mugger, lifting one eyebrow. "Seriously?" she says.

"Seriously!" the man answers, his voice rising noticeably. "I mean it!"

"Because, you know, that gun..."

"Wh- what about it?" says the man, his attention off Gus but his gun still pointed in that direction.

From:

thanksrainman

Gus takes a slow step back. He's suddenly gone quiet, and he's looking more through the man with the shotgun than at him.

"What?" he gasps quietly.

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

"Well, it doesn't look loaded," Ellen finishes. "Is it?"

There's silence for a while as the man turns white, then red with embarrassment.

"Wh- I-"

"Gus, put your hands down," Ellen says. "Listen, if I give you five caps, will you leave us alone?"

"You know what?" says the man suddenly. "I'm just gonna go. Forget about it, okay? This never happened." He doesn't wait for an answer, but jogs off northward along the road. After a few dozen yards he breaks into an all-out run.

Ellen shakes her head and turns to Gus. "Idiot," she mutters. "Are you okay?"

From:

thanksrainman

Gus' gaze is still blank. After a few moments, he falls backwards, landing hard on his arse.

"He shot me," he says, bewildered.

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

"... no he didn't," Ellen says. "That was a sawed-off, I'd've- wait, who shot you?"

From:

thanksrainman

"He-- I--" Gus is struggling to connect words as he sits on the hard ground. His mouth hanging open in complete shock, all he can do is gaze blankly at the terrain around them.

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

Oh dear. Ellen gestures to Dogmeat to sit nearby, and moves over to crouch down beside Gus.

She'll be getting that bottle of whiskey out of her pack again shortly if this keeps up.