aaaaaaaagh_sky

The door opens from Milliways onto the tumbletown ruins of what used to be an industrial area on the fringes of Arlington. The temperature is summertime-warm, the air dry; the last rains to pass through here are long since gone. Overhead, a scavenger bird or two circles, visible only to people who know what they're looking for. A breeze listlessly stirs the air, kicking up brief dust-devils along the shattered ruin of the local roads. Beyond that, the place is quiet in the way that only emptiness can bring.

"This is where I came in," Ellen says over her shoulder. "Like I mentioned the other day, it's about a day's travel to the Fort Bannister region from here. There's still some pre-war asphalt laid down here but pretty soon it all gives way to open sand and scrub. The nearest radiation source is a hundred yards northeast of here, and we're not going in that direction, so unless my Geiger counter goes off without warning we should be all right."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

aeons_crackshot

"I can do that," Annabelle says with a nod. She's capable of moving very quietly, even with the armor on.

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

Ellen nods and continues forward. It's darker than she strictly likes, but there is at least some light from various Talon sources that lets her pick out the fence and where to work at it. Doing so quietly and carefully is slow going, although the sound of gunfire and other unpleasant things going on masks the worst of it, at least enough to let her crawl through the gap and turn to let Annabelle through.

It should be noted here that Talon Company participates in one of the great military traditions of history, namely: if it smells bad, make the guy below you do it instead. The youngest and least experienced Talons have the duty of securing the Brahmin and the kennels, among other forms of scutwork. They do their job- the punishment for dereliction of duty is pretty severe- but they aren't always as diligent as older Talons might be. Sometimes animals escape, even if they're supposed to be held in reserve until a senior Talon comes to pick one up.

Which is why a faint sound of growling is drawing closer, unaccompanied by human feet.

From:

aeons_crackshot

Annabelle hears the growling and gestures for Ellen to halt.

Hopefully, Annabelle can handle the dog without having to kill it.

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

Ellen freezes. Dogmeat, not so much.

Now there are two sets of growling noises.

... yeah, this is gonna end well.

From:

aeons_crackshot

"Ellen," Annabelle hisses. "Keep Dogmeat back, I'll handle the other dog."

She searches for the dog, trying to get close to it.

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

Ellen lunges for Dogmeat in a move that only adds a little bit of jangling metal sounds to the night. Before Dogmeat can draw breath to protest, she's managed to get a handful of his neck skin and lifted most of his front end off the ground. A moment later she has an iron grip on his muzzle. "I know you mean well," she hisses, "but don't you dare! Not now!"

(Ellen has no real concept of pets, and is not entirely clear on the comprehension gap that exists between humans and animals. Dogmeat should, by her reckoning, understand all of English if he understands some.)

From:

aeons_crackshot

Annabelle may have to clear that up for her one of these days, but right now she's busy looking for the other dog.

If her ears don't deceive her, the dog should be right over here...

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

It is. It's a lean tan scrawny thing in a spiked collar not really meant for a dog to wear- a trophy one of the Talons took from a particularly foolish raider. The Talon in question died fighting mutants a little while after, but the dog's stayed the same, and it is nasty.

Doesn't smell too good, either.

From:

aeons_crackshot

Poor thing. Maybe it would be more pleasant if it was fed better.

"Easy, boy," Annabelle says quietly. Moving in to grab its muzzle and hold it shut.

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

Possibly. Hard to say.

It's thrashing pretty hard, though, and trying to claw at Annabelle's arms to get her to let go.

From:

aeons_crackshot

"No," Annabelle says quietly but firmly as the dog thrashes and its claws scrape across her armor.

She knows a bit about dogs. It's not so much about what you say with words as what your tone of voice and body say. Right now, her body language is saying 'I am dominant, you will submit.'

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

The dog thrashes some more, trying to pull away, but Annabelle has more at stake than it does. Eventually, with a heaving sigh, it gives in. There's no point to putting up more of a stink.

(Dogmeat is currently looking disgruntled. Ellen in power armor outmasses him by a really amazing amount.)

From:

aeons_crackshot

"Good dog," Annabelle says quietly once the dog gives in. She lets go of the dog and waits to see what it does.

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

Whimpers, mostly. And looks as if it's not sure whether to fear-bite or run.

From:

aeons_crackshot

Annabelle decides to leave it be, then. "Go home," she tells the dog firmly.

"I think we're good now, Ellen. So long as Dogmeat doesn't attack this fellow, anyway."

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

With one last whimper the dog turns and slinks away. Ellen looks up and lets go of Dogmeat; the heeler stands up, shakes himself off, and turns to bite at an itch on his flank. That, clearly, was embarrassing for him. "I think we're okay," Ellen says. "But we'd better get moving. There might be others."

There's a tent up ahead with its back to their location. Ellen thinks for a moment, then gestures silently at the canvas. Peek under it or slice it open?

From:

aeons_crackshot

Annabelle nods and follows Ellen toward the tent.

At her gesture, Annabelle makes a motion that suggests 'peek under it'. That will be less obvious if anyone comes along behind them later.

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

Inside the tent there isn't much- a footlocker, a first-aid kit, a raised round concrete thing that on closer inspection has a large steel door built into it, a couple of beer bottles...

From:

aeons_crackshot

"Does that look like our way in, or is it just me?" she asks Ellen.

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

"It's not just you," Ellen murmurs back. "But I'll bet there's a guard outside the tent, and getting that open's going to make a lot of noise..."

From:

aeons_crackshot

"He won't be a problem for very long," Annabelle says quietly. "Do you think you can raise the flap a little more, so I can crawl under it? It will be easier to do the job with this," she says, gesturing with the knife, "if I can get him from behind."

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

Ellen nods and carefully eases the burlap up a little higher. Much further and it's going to be a real problem not tearing the cloth or yanking out pegs, but there should be room. And there's definitely a human on the far side of the entrance to the tent; Annabelle should be able to make out his feet as she wriggles on in.

From:

aeons_crackshot

Annabelle is thankful once again for her own athletic ability and flexibility as she wriggles in. She pauses for a moment once she's in, to make sure she hasn't been seen.

She's listening for signs of other people and observing her prey, trying to determine how alert he is and whether she can easily cut his throat with her knife in the armor he's wearing.

From:

aaaaaaaagh_sky

Most of the other people are far off in the distance, dim shapes in the darkness. The man just outside the doorflap is straining his attention to see where all the fuss is going on, just in case it comes his way. As for his neck, Talon Company armor doesn't come up all that far; with the right angle and a good hand... well, Annabelle can fill in the blanks, can't she?

From:

aeons_crackshot

Oh, she can fill in the blanks, sure as sunrise. As she sneaks up behind him, she ponders whether she should prop his body up against the tent to give the illusion of someone still on guard.

He may never even know what killed him. Annabelle's cut is quick and precise across the carotids once she sneaks up behind him.