Megaton

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

It's been a few days since Evergreen Mills. After a lot of discussion and evaluation of matters at the Citadel, Elder Lyons sent Senior Paladin Tristan and a fair few soldiers to sweep the caves and surrounding area for resources and secure anything that might be of serious potential use. Ellen was given some leave time and told Tristan would contact her when her next assignment was ready. She's good with that. So are the people in and around Megaton, who generally like having her around- some considerably more than others.

She'd mentioned this to Voodoo. He'd found the prospect interesting, for some reason. Which is why she's opening a door on the outskirts of Springvale now. "It's pretty quiet today," she says. "Tanya's ants've been patrolling the town perimeters. People tend to give them a wide berth."

Comments

[boston_bruiser]

"Yeah, I'll bet," Voodoo says, hopping down off the stoop. "Talk about 'area denial', huh?"

His is a fairly standard loadout today - body armor, helmet, M60, pistol, and a few frags. Nothing fancy - just in case any raiders get any funny ideas. It's around the spot where he first entered Ellen's world a couple of years ago, except greener and livelier - Jack's work is starting to show. Jack's work, however, doesn't do much against a horrible chemical smell that wafts from one of the buildings, diffusing through the warm, dry spring air.

"On second thought - you guys could probably make do with that smell. No offense."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"None taken," says Ellen. "That's the printing works. Moira Brown's reprinting every single book in the archives of the Arlington Public Library, one at a time. Apparently the process of getting pre-War paper clean enough to use is kinda... stenchy."

She nods towards a familiar, blocky figure up on the rubble-strewn hill to the west.

"Fawkes keeps an eye on things around here too. Especially since the kids from Lamplight moved into the school. He plans on traveling one day, but for now he's content to get to know people here and protect them, and read the books as Moira comes up with them."

[boston_bruiser]

Voodoo nods, once. "Bet it ain't fun, bein' downrange of him. Ain't there been a decrease in raider activity 'round here, though?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"It's been dropping off," Ellen says. "But people here have lived in the shadow of raiders a long time, and that's not something you let go of easily. Plus Fawkes... apparently he found out that before he was mutated, he was one of the security guards in Vault 87. He doesn't remember any of it, but I think on some level he's testing himself out to see how much of that is still part of him."

She shrugs a little and glances towards the Megaton walls.

"There's not really much room going spare in Megaton, so the Scribes who're working in the area claimed a house on the road a little way east of here and started repairing it. It's got a good view of approaching hazards in three directions and the Megaton walls in the fourth, and it's generally out of range of the print works smell. Jerald usually comes to Megaton to eat at the Brass Lantern, though, so if you wanted to talk to him away from the other Scribes that'd be your best bet."

[boston_bruiser]

Voodoo spares a glance towards Megaton as well. Really, the only Scribe he knows by name is Cancino, and that's only because he's putting the moves on the closest person he's got to a baby sister in Milliways.

"Nice. Remind me who Jerald is, again?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"That's Scribe Cancio's first name," says Ellen with a poorly suppressed smile. "Scribes don't generally get callsigns. We just use their last names nine times out of ten. Um.... listen, I don't mean to just run off and leave you, but I've got a pair of pregnant Brahmin that I need to check in on regularly. If I get you into the Megaton gates, will you be okay after that? The last thing I need is to find out Rachel and Leah went into labor early."

[boston_bruiser]

(Well, talk about a d'oh moment.)

"Yeah, I'll be good," Voodoo says, shifting the big machine gun in his grip. "Ain't like it's my first time 'round. You wanna meet up at Gob's after we're done?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Sounds good to me," says Ellen. "The Brass Lantern is down at craterside. You can't miss it- straight down from the gates, then turn left once you get to crater level. Most people eat outside but there's a few tables inside for people who'd rather not sit at the counter. If you don't see a young man in red robes outside, that's where he'll be."

Deputy Weld, as usual, is only too happy to let Ellen and her companion through, and then to wave again as she turns around and heads back out. The robot's got her securely in his databanks by now, after all.

[boston_bruiser]

It's a short walk down to crater level, even if Voodoo garners a few stares, what with his gear and the considerably scatified rendition of some Bing Crosby he's whistling.

(It's a family tradition. Long story.)

Eventually, he makes it down to the bomb, turning left as Ellen directed and scanning the property for any red, his whistling slightly more subdued now.

(It probably won't be anything on the scale of "hold my beer and watch this", but...he'd be lying if he said he wasn't looking forward to making this guy shit his pants.

If Scribes were the kind who held to that particular metaphorical expression, anyway.)

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

Funny thing about that. The radio (Radiation King brand, made in Illinois) at the Brass Lantern is tuned to Galaxy News Radio, and while it's not tinkling out der Bingle just at the moment, it was playing "Way Back Home" a few minutes ago. His gear might be attracting attention, but at least Voodoo's got the right kind of music in him as far as these people are concerned.

As for his target, he's on the end, a kid not much more than Ellen's age in heavy red gear who's just eased himself up onto one of the stools and is placing an order with the blonde woman behind the counter.

[boston_bruiser]

That plunkplunk sound you just heard, Cancio?

It's the sound of Voodoo taking two frags off his web gear and placing them on the counter right next to you.

He crosses his arms and leans on the counter, his presence unmistakable. "How about these," he says, nodding to the grenades, "for some Cram 'n water?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

The woman working the counter says something about the frags buying him a good few days' worth of Cram if he wants. Cancio's not really listening; he's looking from the grenades to the rest of the other man's gear, eyes quick and expression thoughtful.

(He'll remember that he's got a couple of perfectly good mirelurk cakes cooling off in a moment. Weapons get attention first.)

[boston_bruiser]

"Sure," Voodoo says re: oodles of Cram, "the more the merrier."

He goes back to whistling for a few seconds before glancing at Cancio and - well. You know that one fortysomething uncle who made a special point of giving out death-grip handshakes at every single family reunion?

Voodoo smirks and gives Cancio a hearty pat on the back. (In reality, it's closer to a precordial thump in intensity than it ever will be to an actualfax pat.)

"Your little cake thingies're going cold, dude," he says, nodding to the mirelurk cakes.

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

Oh, it's going to be one of those conversations. Like talking to Paladin Stellino. Great.

Cancio musters a partial smile, maybe not one that reaches his eyes, and says, "I'm aware. Just trying to get a sense of who I'm going to be eating with before anything else happens. Life gets easier that way."

[boston_bruiser]

Voodoo bobs his head agreeably. "If you feel like it, man, if you feel like it." The whistling picks back up, quiet, yet there as Voodoo turns and leans back against the counter, surveying Megaton.

"So," he says to Cancio after a while, "I'm thinkin' a dude in robes like yours's got a name." He looks at Cancio, arms crossed. "Am I right?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Funny thing about names," says Cancio, who'd just gotten started on his mirelurk cakes. "Most people have them."

Beat.

"Sorry. You left an opening. I had to say it." He offers a quick, small flash of a smile. "Scribe Jerald Cancio, Order of the Sword. You're not from around here, are you."

[boston_bruiser]

Voodoo flashes a smirk of his own and shakes his head. "Nope," he says, extending a hand. "Al Dente. Brahmin wrangler."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

He's already shaking the hand when the odd look crosses his face.

"Really? Huh. Didn't think there were any herds big enough to be of commercial interest around here."

Not to anyone carrying that kind of kit, anyway, his expression says. This boy has no poker-face.

[boston_bruiser]

Oh, Voodoo can tell.

"Like you said, I ain't from around here," he reminds Cancio, "but yeah, there ain't too many farms around these parts. Times like these, I do odd jobs to fill the gap. Whatever comes up, really," he says, spooning a mouthful of Cram into his mouth and suppressing the urge to make a face. Even MREs aren't this bad.

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

Watch it. That's one of Ellen's treasured childhood favorite foods you're dissing there.

"Gotcha," says Cancio, although he's thinking okay, mercenary. "Well, it definitely seems like there's lots of work going on around Megaton. Probably more caps in Rivet City, but the jobs take longer to find there. I hear, anyway."

[boston_bruiser]

Voodoo shakes his head. "Wouldn't know, ain't ever been. Most of my jobs take me west of here."

He spoons up another mouthful of Cram. "So, 'Scribe Jerald Cancio, Order of the Sword' - what's a guy like you do for a living?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Have you been in the Wasteland long enough to hear Three Dog on the radio?" Cancio asks. "He talks about the Brotherhood of Steel pretty often. The Order of the Sword, my order, does their weapons research and development. I design and build energy weapons. Lasers and electrical discharge weapons, specifically."

[boston_bruiser]

"'Lasers and electrical discharge weapons'," Voodoo muses. "You any good at it?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Yep."

There's no point to bragging. There's also no point to false modesty.

"I don't do work for outsiders, though, if that's what you're asking. I'm sorry. I'm here to keep the local Brotherhood equipment in order. And to sort through the books Miss Brown's reprinting, see if I can find anything my Order needs a copy of."

[boston_bruiser]

"Shit, dude, I wasn't gonna ask you for a laser rifle or nothin'. Ain't no reason for me to think you ain't as good as you say you are, but you honestly think I'd rely on anything that runs on batteries to get me out of a furball?"

He shakes his head. "Uh-uh. This pig's ended more fights than I can count," he says, nodding to the M60.