The Trail

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

The door opens, as it often does, on a patch of scrub desert under a cloud-studded sky. Peering eastward, you can make out the shape of a shattered, once-elevated highway in the light of the just-risen sun, and perhaps the jagged edges of the tallest parts of the Megaton city walls. The air is a little cooler than it's been on past visits, and here and there the brown and yellow scrub that characterizes Wasteland vegetation seems to be sharing space with hazes of green.

There's also kind of an overwhelming stink of cow, because Ellen left Megaton astride Shiphrah and Puah and the Brahmin is busily chewing its cud with one head nearby. Ellen pats the other head briefly with one stealth-suited hand as she says, "We're not far from the caravan route where the raiders ambushed our water men. This is the nearest door I could find."

Comments

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

He scrubs at his face with one hand and a despairing look before answering.

"I'm sorry. Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't think you three have a prayer in Hell of wiping out what's nesting in Evergreen Mills by yourselves. If... if half of what I hear about her is true, she might be able to do it," he says.

"No offense."

[boston_bruiser]

...huh. Okay.

Voodoo nods along, crossing his arms.

"Well, I think we've done pretty well on our own so far. No need to take up any of her time just yet."

[aeons_crackshot]

"We're not going to go in guns blazing. If it looks too ugly, well, we'll see what help we can get."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Good luck," the man says reluctantly. "You're going to need it."

[boston_bruiser]

Voodoo nods, giving the stranger another obnoxious clap on the shoulder. "You too, man. 'n see about gettin' that rifle of yours looked at, yeah? Magazine's about to fall right outta the well."

[aeons_crackshot]

"And you should probably bandage yourself up some, before you get gangrene on top of all your other problems."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"I plan on it, as soon as I can manage," says the man. "Things've gotten pretty ugly in these parts lately. Sometimes all you can do to stay alive is keep moving."

And frankly, that doesn't really look like the face of a man who likes his life very much right now.

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle nods and rummages through her pack. "Ah, thought I had a stimpak left. Here." She hands him the healing injection. "Don't know that it'll get all of it, but it should heal the worst of 'em."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

The man gives her a grateful look and casts a quick glance around. "I think I have a few caps on me," he says. "Nowhere near market value for one of these things, but it's at least something..."

[aeons_crackshot]

"Think of it as payment for the information," Annabelle replies, waving off his offer of caps. "We could have been out here for ages trying to track those bastards back to their base."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"If you say so, ma'am," says the man. "Just- be careful, all right? That place... it isn't a good place."

[aeons_crackshot]

"We'll be careful," she assures him. She's seen the kinds of things raiders consider entertainment and interior decorating.

[boston_bruiser]

Are you sick of obnoxious claps on the shoulder, mister? Because Voodoo sure isn't.

"Yeah," he says, "what Elastigirl said."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"All right," says the man reluctantly. "Good luck."

He'd watch them go a little more closely, but he's got a stimpak to inject at the first chance he gets.

[aeons_crackshot]

Once they're out of earshot, Annabelle turns to Voodoo. "Elastigirl, REALLY? You suck at naming."

[boston_bruiser]

Voodoo shrugs a whatcha gonna do? shrug. "You look flexible. What was I supposed to do, give him our real names?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"For the record," says a nearby blurry patch of air, "if anyone asks for my superhero name, it's Night Ghost, thank you very much."

[aeons_crackshot]

"I am flexible, but that's not the point."

She shakes her head, bemused. "I guess it doesn't really matter. Not like I live in this universe or anything."

"Night Ghost? Nice. You've got better naming sense than some of the folks back home. There was one nitwit after my time who decided to call himself the Penetrator."

Yes, that's actually canon. Some people should not be allowed to name things.

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"It wasn't my choice. Moon Shadow had to identify me to somebody when I turned off the stealth field, and it's the first thing he could come up with," says the blur. "Although I hear the Chinese originally called the people who wore these suits Black Ghosts, so it's not that far off."

"Are we out of visual range yet? I'd like to drop the stealth field..."

[boston_bruiser]

Voodoo glances over his shoulder. The stranger, whoever he is, is long in the distance by now.

"Yeah, you're good," he says. "He ain't even lookin' our way."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Good."

foomp!

"One of these days I'm going to have a long talk with Three Dog. I really wish he wouldn't get people's expectations about me up like that."

[aeons_crackshot]

"I can help you with that, if you like," Annabelle offers. "I'm good at shouting at people!"

[boston_bruiser]

Voodoo shrugs. "I ain't too good at that 'less they give me a reason, so by all means. Goggles tellin' you anything, Ellen?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

Ellen considers this a while, then shakes her head. "Thanks, no," she says. "It's probably too late to do anything about it now. He's been at it long enough."

She glances off westward, then switches her Pip-Boy display on. "I have a general view, and it looks like it might correspond to some of the map data I gathered when I was looking for my father," she says. "Vault 112 was dug in this area because of the rock formations. There's a railroad line south of Little Lamplight and Vault 87 that I never got to follow all the way- here, on the map, that's the line. It's probably the one that feeds into Evergreen Mills. I'm seeing some signs of scent trails moving in this general direction... they're headed more northwest than straight westward, though."

[aeons_crackshot]

"Makes sense, a mill would have needed rail access to get materials in and move their own stuff out," Annabelle replies while she glances at the map.

"Might be something straight west we don't want to deal with, unless they're trying to confuse any trackers about where they're coming from."