Voodoo - Serendipity

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

Philly is, as post-apocalyptic metropoli go, a well-maintained and well-patrolled city. This is not a difficult standard to reach, however, and it tends to fall art in the face of overwhelming wildlife.

Hippos are pretty damn overwhelming. And they've apparently been sighted all over the southern roads out of the city heading towards DC.

One of the older market folks, a gray-haired woman with a face like badly preserved leather, has indicated that the easiest way to avoid the hippos is to head north into the city a ways and make for the northeast part of town. There's apparently a southbound road that swings around the worst of the hippo area and doesn't cost too much travel time by comparison.

Comments

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"I'm not hearing feet," says Kate as she jogs up, casting glances over her shoulder. "But there's definitely something-"

"Get down!"

Whether it's Al or Hector is unclear. It probably doesn't matter either way. Something just fired a bolt of green plasma their way.

[boston_bruiser]

Good thing Voodoo's reflexes are the way they are - as it stands, the bolt nearly singes his ear.

"Holy fuck-"

He drops to the ground and rolls into a storefront, firing off four quick shots at the robot as he crouches in the doorway.

"Kill that fuckin' thing!"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"You'd better run, you commie-lovin' bastard!" roars the machine as it returns bullet fire with more plasma. "There's nothing I like better than making some other poor bastard die for his country!""

"Is that thing for real?" Hector wonders. "Grenade time?"

[boston_bruiser]

"Fuck yes, grenade time."

He's pretty sure, but a quick patdown of his rig reveals that yes, indeed, he's out of frags.

"You throw, I'll cover. Make it count."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

Hector nods grimly and readies his frag; he's fast enough to get a second out in a hurry if he has to, but this is not a pitch you want to fail at. "On three," he says. "One, two-"

He'd get in trouble for his lack of follow-through on the pitch, but he really did have to drop in a hurry to avoid the plasma fire, and he'd thrown the thing anyway.

[boston_bruiser]

"There's nothing better than the smell of fresh plas-"

The frag's explosion rocks the robot, and Voodoo pivots out the doorway as it's stunned, pumping round after round into the housing. Bless the full-metal jackets - they go right through the armor and into the guts of the thing, and soon it's down, twitching on the ground like a felled doe.

"-tell my m-m-m-m-omma I did my beeees-"

There's a soft POP, and it stills.

Voodoo exhales, wiping the sweat from his eyes. "Sound off. Everyone good?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Fine down here," reports Hector from the ground.

"I'm all right," says Josepha, who took cover behind a waist-height wall of brick in order to fire on the thing.

"I think it winged me, but not enough to do more than burn a little," says Kate.

"I'm all right," says Al, "but I'm seeing what I really hope is people coming our way..."

[boston_bruiser]

It's not hard to see what Al's talking about - two gray blobs off in the distance that become recognizable suits of power armor when viewed through the binos. There isn't much in the way of power armor in the Wastes to go around to begin with - and unless he's seriously out of the loop, the Brotherhood doesn't have a chapter this far north.

"-the fuck-"

He takes the binos from his eyes, then looks through them again. There's no mistaking it, not with those insignia on the pauldrons - they're Brotherhood.

"Hold fire, those're friendlies. -willin' to bet on it, anyway."

Voodoo reloads more out of a force of habit than anything, and tucks the used magazine in his vest.

"Just be cool."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

The two armored figures have the look of people accustomed to search missions; they're sweeping their end of the street and the nearby buildings with equal measures of efficiency and caution. About halfway down what used to be their current block one of them stops and holds up a fist, then points towards the building where Voodoo and company are waiting. The other looks, shifts its grip on its gun, and calls out, "Hail. Who goes there?"

[boston_bruiser]

And Voodoo, in turn, grips his carbine by the foregrip and raises it one-handed above his head. No need to make these guys nervous.

"Just some people heading for D.C. Got pointed down this road."

He lets his arm down, the weapon hanging loosely at his side.

"Where's the rest of your unit?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

The armored soldiers glance at each other before turning back to Voodoo. "You're a long way from the Capital, friend," says the one who spoke before. "Our unit's camped not far away. We were patrolling and heard the plasma fire. This part of town's heavy with robots."

[boston_bruiser]

There's a couple of ways to make Voodoo look at you like you're an asshole. Playing Captain Obvious is one of them.

As flat as can be:

"Y'don't say."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"More than just the one," notes the other soldier, equally flatly. "We're within a hair's breadth of the old General Atomics plant. The locals consider the place a reliable method of suicide. Unfortunately, we were sent from the Citadel to scout the grounds."

[boston_bruiser]

A half-shrug. "Bummer, pal."

He shifts his hand to the pistol grip, letting the carbine hang as his other hand rests on his hip.

"Lookin' for Paladin 101. She still stationed out of the Citadel?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Not just at the moment," says the one on the left, with a trace more humor to his staticky voice than before. "But we may be able to get a message through regardless. Can I ask what it is you want with her?"

[boston_bruiser]

"I'm one of her mole-people. Got locked outta the mole-people locker. Hoping she can set things right."

As a pre-emptive measure against Looks from Josepha, Hector, Al, and Kate:

"Long story. Half'a it's a joke. Don't mind it."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

The armored figures glance at each other a moment, even as the Looks are cut off at the knees. Eventually the one on the left says, "If you'll come with us back to camp, I believe we can get your message straight to her without trouble. And you'll run less risk of another robot attack."

[boston_bruiser]

"Lead the-"

It's the phrasing that makes him double-take.

"-the fuck? She's here?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"This is a scouting mission sent to sound out the General Atomics International ruins and determine their fitness or lack thereof for a full reclamation operation," says the one on the right. "At Elder Lyons' request, Senior Paladin Tristan put his most successful advance scout in command."

"So, yes. She's here."

[boston_bruiser]

"-well fuck a duck."

It's an unexpected surprise, but certainly not an unpleasant one - once they've got this Philly business wrapped up (because he's already here, so why not help kill stuff?), they don't have to make their way all the way down to the Citadel to get his situation unfucked.

He waves them on. "H'kay. Make like Earthlings and take me to your leader."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"This way," says the one on the left, and gestures. "It's not far."

As the group starts moving, Josepha makes her way up to just behind Voodoo. "You know these guys?" she murmurs.

[boston_bruiser]

"These guys? No. The Brotherhood? I do favors for 'em from time to time. Nothin' too fancy."

He glances over his shoulder.

"That a problem?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"No, no problem," says Josepha. "It's just- they're a little intimidating. I've never seen power armor in action before."

[boston_bruiser]

"First time for everything. Can't say I'd ever use a suit myself, but there you go."

A beat, then to the knights:

"Those things have load-bearing servos in 'em, right? So you ain't throwing your back out with every step."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"I would have a harder time carrying a forty-pound sack of mutfruit," says one of the Knights. "And this isn't even the good armor. The servos in T-51b suits leave you as agile as if you were wearing your everyday fatigues."

"Not to mention some of the things the Order of the Shield has in development," says the other one. "But that's... not for outside concern."

"And we're almost at camp, anyway," adds the first. "Ahead, there. In the old Red Rocket station."

Red Rocket used to be an East Coast chain of refueling stations; one couldn't call them gas stations, as they were aimed squarely at the surging number of atomic car drivers. Their buildings tended to be rather more solid and sturdy than Poseidon Energy's gas stations, and often included a separate garage for getting damaged vehicles well out of the way. This one is no exception; unlike most of the other former businesses in this area, there's a light winking from the windows of the second floor of said garage.