The REALLY Wild Wasteland. (The Fallout RP!)

[evilengine]

Chester smirked, watching the young lady vanish, leaving a barely visible wispy shape quivering in the air, before coming back into sight just as quickly as she had disappeared.

"Mighty fine trick you have there, little Miss. Don't wish to imply nothin' but you don't look the violent type, so you best keep that pipboy of yours in prime condition, hate to see anything untoward happen to a young thing like you." He sniffed loudly, hacking a loud and unpleasant sounding cough, followed by a spit to the ground, wiping his mouth and nostril holes with a rag from his pocket.

"Now, in answer to yer question..." he continued, stuffing the rag back where it came from. "I'm not as old as I look, would you believe I'm only 103 this coming February? 103... makes you think, huh? Makes you think..." He trailed off, eyes looking kinda glassy for a few moments as Robin spoke across him to the Enclave nearby.

"Them soldier boys givin you trouble?" He asked, snapping out of his thoughts. "I know the ol' sayin boys will be boys n' all, but don't let em get the better of you, young Robin. One moment they be sliding a drink into your hand, next minute... well, I'd rather not say. Best keep yer wits about yourself" He kept a beady eye on the Enclave, letting out a low Hrmmm every now and again, before turning to Trixie.

"You're a quiet one, arn't yer? Don't mind me I won't bite... you gotta name and a profession, young lady? I know a grease monkey when I see one..." His eye twinkled at Robin. "But unlike our friend here you ain't got that look about you."

 

[Random Fella]

Trixie giggled at what Robin said to #209
"Rejected...!" She remarked in a hushed tone.

Listening to what Chester was saying to Robin, Trixie scoffed.
"Them soldier boys don't normally need to get the better of you, shoot first ask questions later isn't just a term referring to guns for some of them." Trixie stated against Chesters advice to Robin. Turning back to #209 for a moment "No offense".

A slight *chss* sound was made as she opened some Sunset.
"The name's Trix. What do you mean 'profession', what do you think I'm doing in a traveling caravan." She continued.
"Maybe I'm not a greasy monkey as you claim, but I can probably repair any weapon you can find for me. I guess I should be more specific, I sell things people actually need to survive in this hellhole." She gave Chester a look as to offend the usefulness of his wares. "Weapons, ammo, and basic meds." She thought to quickly correct her statement. "No Psycho!" she pointed at #209 as she said that. "I know how you enclave boys relieve the stress. I don't have any." She turned back to Chester again to continue. "And as you perhaps could tell from before, maybe not from the other guards that cowered behind the rocks, sometimes I get some pay for protection. It was just lucky I happen to know a thing or two about them bots."

Taking a swig from her drink and opening another for the now cap-holding Enclave she turned to Robin. "You should watch who you boast about that thing on your arm to, bird. Some people would go to extremes to get their mitts on something like that.

 

[Rip Van Rabbit]

Kristin Blamco - Springvale
"An unlikely agreement"​

"Look for yourself."

Kristin remained silent upon receiving the portable screen. Allowing Jonathan a moment to take a good look at the screen, Kristin started to fiddle with the controls. Thankfully, one of the buttons were clearly labelled 'zoom in' & 'zoom out'. She cycled through a variety of emotions as she pawed at the screen to move the camera around.

- Firstly, she was shocked that this supposed army was composed of young, unarmored and ill-equipped females. How could such a woman consider this to be an army?!

- Secondly - and this was dire - they all seemed to match the blue-haired, red dress description that Miss Black had described. This girl, or these girls...one of them at least, must be the much cared for 'Sylph' as Kristin was told. The BlamCo Heiress had agreed to the search and immediate safety of the blue-haired female, in exchange for Lucy's allegiance to Blamcoism. Never had she thought that finding such a person would be so simple.

- Thirdly, these girls were in no manner suitable for direct close-quarters combat if their crude weapons of choice were any indication. Their opposition had to be taken into consideration and the weapons should counter that of their enemies. If these girls were to fight the Enclave, shameful as they may be, they would no doubt be cut down within a matter of minutes. Now Kristin had never received formal training for how she handled her blade, but she was praised for her passion...not her form. These girls showed neither discipline nor passion, as evidenced over the monitor when a 'Sylph' dropped a hammer on her own foot.

- Fourthly, were these girls coerced into a war, or did they truly fight for own beliefs? For all she knew, these girls were cannon-fodder. And as an honorable knight of BlamCo, Kristin would have none of that. While battle was glorious within Blamco tradition, human life was not to be senselessly wasted, especially those of warriors on the battlefield.

- Fifthly and finally, Kristin had to address the Brahmin in the room...their food preparations were severely lacking. T-they were burning the food. They know not what real food tastes like! How will they fight on an unholy stomach?! Their bodies are weak and proper sustenance could turn the tide of battle!

Completely lost in thought, she was pulled aside by Jonathan. "I need a few moments to consider your offer...", Kristin muttered to #411 without looking at her, still staring at the video feed, clearly concerned over what she had seen on the monitor.

Kristin nodded earnestly when she followed what Jonathan was trying to tell her. So this was why the Agent of Soya had not already been dispatched by Jonathan or Lucy. Kristin hadn't heard anything of the their exchange while she had engaged the bodyguards earlier. This 'Thomas' fellow must have been important if Miss Black was willing to gouge out an eye rather than talk. Well, her mind was made-up, she would aid the needs of those who followed her to the best of her abilities.

Kristin watched Jonathan during his speech, he could navigate the inner workings of this woman's plans better than she could. She felt both grateful and bitter over the awe-inspiring display of subtle conversational prowess. Perhaps this required further explanation, being left out of the loop due a lack of skill or ability was exactly what lead to the failure of the New Vegas BlamCo Branch when she was put in a managerial position. Kristin knew nothing of the business's inner-workings or financial affairs...she just loved to prepare the meals. Watching Jonathan weave through the strategic conversational trappings had reminded her of how the New Vegas Council chastised her for ruining the BlamCo branch, bringing further shame upon her family's name...all due to her own ignorance.

She was grateful that Jonathan was a man of honour, one that stayed true to his word by assisting her. She had felt the sting of rejection and false-approval just enough for her to recognise the signs, but not enough for it to stop hurting...the BlamCo Heiress had made many 'friends', only to discover that they were either after her affluence or food. This was not the case though, Jonathan stood before an Agent of BlamCo and Soya and he had chosen BlamCo.

The thought made her smile to herself, returning some measure of her own joviality. When they had the chance, Kristin intended to make a nice meal for Jonathan, perhaps some wine as well to show her thanks.

Jonathan's speech was finishing up, and while she agreed for the most part, she loathed the idea of working for an Agent of Soya. But after the shocking display on the video feed, Kristin was not about to let countless lives be lost over her personal grudges. If anything, this was a test from the Gods.

"I have more to add.", Kristin walked over to Jonathan's side, smiling at him before turning to face #411. "Your army appears ill-equipped, but that's where my esteemed Weaponsmith falls in. I care more for the lives of these girls on the monitor. I will not allow them to senselessly march to their death without giving them a fighting chance and proper training."

Kristin Blamco, Heiress to the BlamCo family fortune sighed and with great emotional effort, pushed aside her personal grudges against the Agent of Soya.

"In time, I will gladly train these girls, not for the Enclave, but for the sanctity of their lives as warriors.", Kristin looked at #411, not with malice, but with absolute sincerity. "I ask that Lucy Black is left alone and whatever you hold above her head is given back to her. And once we are done, our ties to you will be severed. As the Princess of BlamCo, those are my conditions for working with you."

 

[Texas Joker 52]

Arizona

The Wild Wastelands | Ruined Skyscraper Camp​

Mean as it was, Arizona snickered a little when Thomas' attempt at taking a drag from her offered cigarette resulted in the typical hacking cough of a first-timer. Taking the cigarette back, she placed it between her teeth and grinned.

"Yea, it burns the lungs real nice, don't it?" she teased, before sitting up and reaching into her duffel, "Don't force yourself. Not everyone has the constitution to take up smokin', even in the wastes."

"Sounds like a rather dangerous job. I'll try not to get in your way, Arizona."

She replied with a grunt before she finally pulled her pack up and started to dig through it in earnest, pulling out a beat-up roll of armorer's tools. Then she stood, strode over to her new partner's side and picked up his rifle. She was about to start taking it apart and servicing it when he spoke up.

"Back home, we used to visit this old temple. It preached peace and harmony. It was massive and there were always images of people being happy. They say it was built before the bombs fell so given your ... experience on this world, have you ever been there? Have you been to Disneyland?"

She looked up at him for a few moments with an expression of confusion, and her cigarette threatened to fall out of her mouth before she realized exactly what he was talking about. His earlier mentions of 'Lord Walt' suddenly made much more sense.

"Wait, so that's who you're referring to with this 'Lord Walt' thing. You're talking about Walt Disney. Man, should've seen that coming..." she murmured to herself before shaking her head and going back to his rifle.

"Can't say I have. Before the bombs fell, Disneyland was for families that were rich and could afford to make the trip. Which meant that I was shit outta luck, even if I wanted to go. As for old Walt Disney himself, sure he got himself frozen, but I don't think anyone has any clue where he is now, and I doubt anyone would know how to thaw the poor guy properly nowadays anyway." she told him, before exhaling a thin trail of smoke and quickly adding, "Though you never know with the Wastes. Guy might be up and about, singin' 'It's a Small World' as we speak."

It wasn't that she particularly cared about his beliefs, since she'd come to the conclusion that Wasteland folk would believe anything. It was more that she saw no reason to try and convince him that what he believed, whatever it was, was wrong. After all, who was she to say otherwise? She didn't particularly believe in anything.

She flicked off the ash building at the end of her cigarette before she started to work on the rifle's barrel, saying, "Anyway, we'll need to get moving once the sun's up. I don't like the place. We'll stop by the first town on the way to Dunwich to restock on supplies."

 

[Generic NPC 22]

The Wild Wasteland | The Enclave Vault | Interrogation Room #23
Conversations between a traitor and Fallout Jack (Except #1) - Co-produced by [user]FalloutJack[/user]​

Enclave Intelligence Specialist #667 stalked the room like a dog waiting for the command to rip out its victim's throat. He was edgy, nervous, anxious. He was waiting for orders from the people who made more important decisions than he. Until recently Enclave Intelligence Specialist #411 was one of the those people, until she'd been extricated from the field for disobeying orders. At least that's all they had on her so far.

#667 was told to leave the room. Once that was done, there was a pause, and then FalloutJack did indeed enter the room! He was carrying a strange blue-glowing device that hummed. It was roughly the size of a thermos and, once activated, let off what looks like a brief EMP field - but of a very specific modulation and power field - to short out every audio/visual device in the room. This also included Jack's powersuit eyes, and even the green highlights went out!

FalloutJack: Oh, son of a- COME ON!

He banged his helmet'd head against the wall, almost comically. Then...

Skilldex --> Repair --> Powersuit

...it's fixed! Amazing! He put down the device in front of #411.

FalloutJack: So anyway, I just shorted out every surveillance device in here. Let's talk.

Seeing FallouJack enter the room, the woman in the chair, Charlotte Sorrowfeld, couldn't help herself. She smiled brightly at the sight of the man who had once saved her and given her purpose. The presence of the EMP based Audio/Video Disabler was cause for the woman's smile to fade, the presence of such a device meant that FalloutJack wanted their discussion to be off the books. Despite the deadly serious nature of the implications against her and the presence of the man whom she was risking everything for to place at the head of the Enclave, she couldn't help herself.

"Hi Jack. It's been quite a while. You never write." The Bruised Black-Haired Belle quipped as she sat up straight, despite the pain from the repeated blows to her lower back. She gestured at the device in Fallout Sector's leader's hands, "Since you brought that, I'm assuming that you're not here on official business?"

FalloutJack: Oh no, I'm looking into your case. This is how I deal with sensitive matters. And basically...my work keeps me alot. I mean, I just came back from a mission, and you know I get all the weird ones.

He uncuffed #411, took a seat, produced two cups, and opened the- Hey, it IS a thermos! It was a thermos with integrated technology...

FalloutJack: Scotty made it. Want some?

Charlotte nodded quickly, if not a bit too enthusiastically, causing the room to spin for a moment. She wavered in her seat for a moment, managing to steady herself before toppling over and making more of a scene that she already had. She made a note to chastise Enclave Intelligence Specialist #667 about his methodology. A prisoner with a concussion was as good as having a brain dead corpse in the chair.

Whatever it was that FalloutScott had made and put in the thermos, it tasted rather mellow, like honey mixed with... something else. Charlotte hoped that the something else wasn't coolant.

"You know what I like about you?" The woman started, "You're willing to put your life on the line for everyone... not just the Enclave. I read that report about how Natsuki... became a mother and Lilith's origins. If it wasn't you that had written that report, I'd have filed to have the submitter of the report placed in a straight jacket. I mean, a Pub in the middle of no where with a colony of Deathclaws unanchored in Space and Time? That's a little far fetched. But to top it all off, you managed to travel back in time to the moment of the colony's inception and infect the Deathclaw with a modified form of the FEV, not knowing if you would be returning back to your own time... or if you could return at all."

"But you said that you're here because you're looking at my case. Thoughts?"

Jack wouldn't be drinking it if it contained something weird. However, true to Scotty McLaylen tradition, it IS somewhat spiked. Actually kind of a blessing right now, when you think about it. Jack removes his helmet to drink.

FalloutJack: Like I said, the really weird missions. Besides, I had to. The Matriarch would've impaled Natsuki as she was leaving the bar, otherwise.

He hadn't liked that moment, and it shows, but then he moves on.

FalloutJack: Charlotte, why did you investigate Lucy Black? Surely, my report stated well enough that I was taking her off the board and that she was glad to be off. Her beef with the Enclave was more a personal matter between me and Isaac. Resolving that to some extent removes her need to fight us. Plus, my respect for the man had me wanting her to be out of this, anyway. You've made your report, but this wouldn't have happened if you'd done as I asked.

[hr]

The Wild Wasteland | #324 West Black Lane (The Black Hovel)
Traitorous Negotiations​

The expression on Enclave Intelligence Specialist #411's face did not exactly reflect one of amusement as she heard the counter proposals to her plans. While she was not so infantile as to expect the BlamCo Nitwit and her Asinine Acolyte to agree to her plan without so much as a peep, it did not mean that she had smile while listening to said counter offers. She had to remind herself that she lacked requisite leverage and influence over these two BlamCo-ites to force them to agree to her plans, a tragedy really since her plan was simple. The more people they added to the plan, the more there was room for things to go awry.

The Enclave Specialist sat in the chair and looked ahead blankly as she analysed the potential impact of their counter offers on the goal of her plans. At all costs, Enclave Intelligence Specialist #411 wanted to avoid the worst case scenario, the implication of FalloutJack as an accessory to her plans. Charlotte Sorrowfeld was willing to sacrifice herself and her adopted daughter but not the man who had saved both of them. Once she got back to the Enclave Vault, she would be able to research whatever she could on the two BlamCo Savagaes and find their weaknesses... that is if she survived the charges that she assumed were pending upon her return, namely disobeying the orders to leave Lucy Black alone.

With the scenarios sufficiently analyzed, the dark haired Intelligence Specialist turned towards the two.

"I'll agree to your terms if you agree to mine. First: You have a six month period to recruit whomever you want to assist you. This is period is all I can allow before the girls become a larger threat to the Wasteland than your own nearsighted perception of the Enclave. Second: When you get back from taking Former Asset Black to Megaton, there will be a young woman waiting for you. She is to be the first of your allies. She has the loyalties of the 'Sylphys,' as those who've encountered them have taken to calling them. Third: The young woman is to be kept safe. Should any harm fall upon her, you'll not only have to worry about the 'Sylphys' hunting you, you'll have to worry about me. Fourth: In regard to Miss Black's friend, I will rescind my order upon my extrication from this location, which I should add, is on its way." Enclave Intelligence Specialist #411 stated, "When you killed my bodyguards, The Enclave were notified via a sensor monitoring their vital stats. There is a team on their way as we sit here and waste time. It would be difficult to explain that you two had nothing to do with their deaths should you still be here."

This was #411's goodwill gesture. If she wanted to kill the three, she only had to stall them until the extraction team arrived and informed them of the events.

"I suggest you accept my terms and take Miss Black to Megaton, but before you leave, "#411 paused with a smile on her face, "I want you, Miss Blamco, to swear upon the honor of BlamCo that you will uphold your end of the bargain."

[hr]

The Wild Wasteland | BlamCo Supply Shack
Sylph Spots Friends?​

The Red Menace watched Charlie Cannon fall asleep before she started wondering what it was or why it was that she had bothered to converse with Charlie Cannon the way she had. He was... an idiot... though not on the level her other half was an idiot, but strangely enough it felt oddly soothing to have someone looking out for her welfare due to their own morality rather than looking out for her because they needed to use her somehow. It was the first time in her memory that someone had done that since her arrival in the Wastelands.

The Crimson Crusader shook her head as if she was clearing cobwebs from her brain. She... felt like there had been others like Charlie Cannon but they were like shadows in her mind. She could neither remember name or face of any of them. The knowledge that she could forget people such as that was more than a little disturbing to Sylph. Was she losing her mind?

Brushing the thought aside, she stood up and quietly walked outside of the Shack, resting up against the door frame and looked out into the night. The Wasteland was dark at night and had it not been for the stars, Sylph might as well had stayed within the shack itself since she wouldn't have been able to see an intruder even if it was doing jumping jacks on the tip of her nose.

There was one oddity though, an odd light located just above the horizon, a flickering, dancing light. It was a camp fire, located in a building not too far from where Charlie Cannon and Sylph had made their own camp. Keeping her eye on the fire, Sylph decided that she would investigate who was there in the morning.

[hr]

The Wild Wastelands | Ruined Skyscraper Camp
Disney World was for Amusement?!​

Arizona's reference to the Thomas McGee's most holy of holy sites as being a simple amusement park was... confusing. He had no reason to doubt anything that she was saying but for her to state that the Holy City of Disneyland was a vacation destination for the rich and spoiled was... slightly more painful that a nail extraction. Her sentiment that Lord Walt might be alive and still preaching was ... more comforting but still left Thomas slightly moody that he might have missed the resurrection of the man that had been the center point for his belief structure.

"I'll have to take your word for it, Arizona." The Formerly Friendly now Moody Undertaker said as he turned his back to the fire and to Arizona, "There's two towns on the way to Dunwich. The closest to Dunwich would be Tenpenny Towers. Last I heard, they weren't exactly welcoming of ... smooth skins. The other is Megaton. I'd prefer if we went to Tenpenny though."

[hr]

The Wild Wastelands | Vault Tec Headquarters Crater
Rejection?! No... way!!!​

Enclave Heavy Weapons Specialist #209 wasn't offended by any of the talk revolving Robin's rejection of his advances. He was QUITE aware of the manliness that his armor exuded and were he a woman, he would have had second thoughts about the possibilities revolving a romantic tryst with someone of #209's MANLINESS! For one, Robin would have to start carrying around a rather large stick with which to shoo away any romantic rivals, such as Trixie. Also, having been similarly rejected by Enclave Intelligence Specialist #411 a number of times, he knew that sooner or later, Robin, Trixie and #411 would give into his persistence. Persistence, as #209 had come to understand, was an admirable quality. Besides, if #209 wasn't Robin's type, clearly she was batting for the other team, which was just fine with #209.

Still he did want to have the appearance of being inhospitable.

SLAP!

That was the sound of Enclave Heavy Weapons Specialist #209 slapping Robin's back as a sign of understanding between comrade in arms.

"Naw! I don't care if you like women! But I might get offended if you turn me down for drinks. I mean, you did bruise my knee." Lies. There was no bruising on #209's knee!, " and while my typical punishment for someone doing that might be to cookie cutter my name into their abdomen with my trusty ole Plasma Vulcan, I think your punishment will be drinking with the Enclave Dominators!"

"As for you, Trixie, we Enclave Dominators do not do Psycho thank you very much," The ED 209 said with mock offense, "We take pride in our bodies and work to bring out its fullest potential. How're you gonna do that with Med-X or Psycho or Stimpacks or Coffee?!"

But enough with the boasting. It was time for drinks. Taking the purchased been from Trixie, the Enclave Heavy Weapons Specialist reached into his pack and pulled out a bendy straw and a miniature Tiki Umbrella before taking off his helmet. Released from the confines of his helmet, Enclave Heavy Weapons Specialist #209's blonde hair spilled down the back of his slender neck? The bangs falling down and covered one side of his face with its high feminine cheekbones and soft jawline? Um... what's going on here? He's a he right? Right?

 

[Random Fella]

"Well, I wasn't expected that" Trixie commented in disbelief as #209 removed 'his' helmet.
Almost staring she glanced back and forth from her bottle of Sunset to #209
"I need to get a new supplier..." She said, pouring the rest of the contents of the bottle to the ground with a drawn out sigh, as if it were tainted.

 

[evilengine]

A slightly confused blink, followed by a low raspy Hrmmm was Chester's only response, he was about to resume his conversation with Trixie, that is before noticing she was pouring away her Sarsaparilla.

"You ain't drinkin that? Cause I'll have it if you don't want it," he asked, watching it splatter on the dirt, seemingly forgetting about #209's dramatic reveal.

"Can't be nice being cooped up in a stuffy headpiece all day," he said, turning back to #209. "If you're lookin for some hair brushes or accessories to keep yourself fixed up I might be of assistance." He opened a smaller bag hanging on his side, jammed inside were a couple of nearly finished toilet paper rolls, magazines, toothbrushes, a cracked compact mirror, as well as combs, brushes, bobby pins, hair grips and rollers.

"Anything that'll suit your needs, and you ladies too!" He added, removing an occasional item and holding it up in the sun, so Trixie, Robin and #209 could clearly see. "For but a couple of caps you young things could be even prettier, of course I also accept trades and NCR dollars too! Don't be shy, get em while stocks last!"

 

[Neuromancer]

Black Residence: You Can (Not) Win​

As Jonathan finished his proposal, his mind was filled with anxiety. He was running out of cards to play, and he would rather not use his trump card if he could avoid it. If he did, chances would have it that the wall of cold emotionlessness the Agent was hiding behind could break, tensions could rise and the chance of reaching an agreement could be jeopardised. And so, he fell silent while still keeping the air of confidence he had developed, hoping that #411 would give in. The Princess was quick to follow up his demands. Before she did so, though, she threw a warm smile at him.

There was something... wrong about that smile. Jonathan wasn't sure why, but he thought he saw a hint of... bitterness in it? Regret, perhaps? Why would she feel that way?

Don't you have more serious things to worry about than what could potentially cause the dodo-head distress? For all you know she could be in her period or something. I bet she bleeds cheese instead of blood.

Right. The figure was right. He couldn't show distress or that he cared. The more he conversed with the Agent, the more it all came back to him. If he wanted to get her to agree to terms as beneficial as he could get, he needed to make sure not to show any emotion towards anything. Doing so could potentially give his opponent more leverage to use against him. No, that wouldn't do at all, not with the stakes this high. Above all, he needed to treat all this with a sense of detachment without losing sight of his goal, like a game presenting a challenge he had to overcome.

"Your army appears ill-equipped, but that's where my esteemed Weaponsmith falls in. I care more for the lives of these girls on the monitor. I will not allow them to senselessly march to their death without giving them a fighting chance and proper training."

The princess, despite her goodwill, was incapable of playing the game. She was revealing her hand too quickly; showing emotion and, above all, showing that she cared for the lives of those that were, for all intents and purposes, expendable. This was potentially harmful, as if the agent was as good at playing this as she seemed, she would definately use it for her advantage.

You tell her to let you handle this, but she won't shut up. Comprehension is hard. But then again, it's your fault for bringing her into the negotiations in the first place.

Jonathan had wagered it would be prudent to do so. The Blamco Princess would most likely have invited herself anyway. Kristin looked hardly the person to stay out of something as important as this. Jonathan hoped that by being the one to bring her in the discussion he could a)control her more easily to keep her from causing harm. b) come off as powerful to the agent by giving off the illusion that Kristin and him worked together as one and make things more difficult to her, as she would have to include Kristin in her plans if she wanted an agreement to be reached. Regardless of whether or not Kristin could potentially have wanted to. If Jonathan wanted results, he needed to treat her as a pawn on the chessboard, something that he was not too proud of.

"I ask that Lucy Black is left alone and whatever you hold above her head is given back to her. And once we are done, our ties to you will be severed. As the Princess of BlamCo, those are my conditions for working with you."

No, no, no! You don't make your demands until after you make sure the other party agrees to your proposal. Only if they do, and after gauging how much leverage you have over them, you start making demands. Kristin Blamco may have well robbed them of an advantage, both in the way of now being unable to add demands, and by revealing what they wanted out of her. It was too late for him to intervene, doing so would have shown that Kristin and him weren't as united as he wanted it to look.

An uncomfortable silence fell in the room as the Blamco Princess finished her proposal and Agent Hero Worship contemplated on what to say next. She was good at this; whatever she may have been feeling about what was said, she didn't show. She obviously was disatisfied with the way things went, as one would expect of someone having her plans foiled to a degree, but besides that, no anger or frustration was shown.

She sure is taking her time. Think your counter-proposal left her in disarray?

"I'll agree to your terms if you agree to mine."

Alright, here we go. [small]Finally.[/small] Prepare for caustic commentary.

"First: You have a six month period to recruit whomever you want to assist you."

Despite not showing it, Jonathan couldn't help but feel a certain extent of relief as he heard those words. Not only was she agreeing to the most critical part of the deal, but also giving him way more time than he had hoped he'd get.

Good thus far... Though if I have a feeling that she won't be sitting idle during those six months. Better plan ahead, eh?

"This is period is all I can allow before the girls become a larger threat to the Wasteland than your own nearsighted perception of the Enclave."

Oh ho ho, what's this? She's either bullshitting you or she's a worse planner than she seems. If what she says is true, then it's like using a huge boulder to smash an obstacle you can't jump over in a hurdle race! You replace a problem with a bigger one! If that isn't solid reasoning I dunno what is. Or, it could just be an excuse. For all you know she needs those 6 months to raise a second clone army. Just to deal with you, in case you get any funny ideas. However, if what she says is true, then she needs you even more than she lets on, due to the time constrains.

"Second: When you get back from taking Former Asset Black to Megaton, there will be a young woman waiting for you."

Oh, great. As if the dodo-head wasn't filling the mongoloid quota by herself.

"She is to be the first of your allies."

Oh, how generous of her to hand over an "ally" to us, free of charge. I bet there's no catch or anything like that.

"She has the loyalties of the 'Sylphys,' as those who've encountered them have taken to calling them."

Sylphys? She means the clones? She's handing over the clone commander to us? The catch must be larger that Moby Dick!

"Third: The young woman is to be kept safe. Should any harm fall upon her, you'll not only have to worry about the 'Sylphys' hunting you, you'll have to worry about me."

If I had a drink for each time she throws around hollow threats I'd had died from liver failure a while back. Still, her threat reveals she cares for the girl. Which could potentially be used for your benefit.

"Fourth: In regard to Miss Black's friend, I will rescind my order upon my extrication from this location, "

That's all well and good, but why is she grouping it with her list of demands? Doesn't make sense, considering it isn't one.

"Which I should add, is on its way. When you killed my bodyguards, The Enclave were notified via a sensor monitoring their vital stats. There is a team on their way as we sit here and waste time. "

Waste time, huh? Well, sorry we're not gullible enough to agree to whatever bullshit proposal you come up with. Nobody likes a sore loser.

"It would be difficult to explain that you two had nothing to do with their deaths should you still be here."

As I am sure it would be inconvenient for you if Johnny boy here would spill out you're planning a rebellion if he was being interrogated. Brittle and cowardly as he is, I bet he'd break just from the sight of the interrogation tools, amirite?

"I suggest you accept my terms and take Miss Black to Megaton."

Wow, she basically gave you everything you wanted and more! You've wo-

No, I haven't.

Hmm?

The devil let out a psychotic smirk as she continued, "but before you leave, I want you, Miss Blamco, to swear upon the honor of BlamCo that you will uphold your end of the bargain."

It was as Jonathan had feared. #411 was taking advantage of the fact that Kristin had shown empathy for the clones, and was using that in an attempt at manipulating her. If Jonathan was to warn her about it, he would be revealing his some of his cards for free. On the other hand, if he let Kristin take the vow unknowing of what that might ordain he risked greater long-term harm, both to the plan and to herself.

I don't see what the big moral struggle is. You reap what you sow. She brought herself to this position by acting like the dodo-head she is; let her bear the consequences of her actions herself and don't potentially jeopardise the plan for her sake. The nimwit isn't worth it.

Jonathan stared at Kristin puzzlingly, being careful not to betray his thoughts by showing emotion. He wasn't sure what to do. The devil had played him well on that part, giving him a lose-lose situation.

Kristin, behind her veil of confidence, looked rather conflicted. She didn't know what she was walking in, but her pride wouldn't let her consider things long before it took over and she accepted.

...

Damn it all.

"Miss Kristin," he started again, his tone and stare completely neutral, "a moment of your time again, if you will."

The situation repeated itself, and soon enough Kristin and Jonathan stood away from the agent under the protection of Jonathan's hat. It was there that Jonathan let his emotions show as he stared at her with a tired, disappointed stare.

"The fact that she wants you to swear," he whispered again, his tone matching his stare, "means that there's a catch, and probably a big one. Miss Kristin, if you didn't show your eagerness to help the clones to her, we could have possibly avoided this situation." this wasn't your typical I'm-reprimanding-you-because-I-am-an-insecure-little-*****-and-I-wanna-feel-better-about-myself kind of reprimand; his criticism was one of genuine care. If he told her, maybe in the future she'd be more careful with her words and avoid such difficult situations.

"I want you to know that, if you swear the oath, you'll, no, we, will probably be walking into some sort of trap. She'll probably use your desire to help the clones and the sympathy you harbor for them to try and manipulate you. To her, the clones are expendable as long as it means she advances her goals. Miss Kristin... know that you'll likely have to choose between being true to your oath and what's best for the wasteland."

His stare sharpened, "It would have been convenient not to have told you this and left you to swear the oath, considering how good a deal we're getting, but I cannot in good concience let you unknowingly walk into the wolf's den. If you take the vow, it would be a good idea not to grow attached to the clones." he let out a deep, defeated sigh and continued, "Swear or not, it's up to you. Think hard about your decision. The final say is yours."

Finishing what he wanted to say, Jonathan returned to the expression of emotionless neutrality he had assumed when he was dealing with #411 and walked back to his previous position, staring at the agent blankly. He had said what he needed to say. It was all up to Kristin now to make her choice and decide their course..

 

[Texas Joker 52]

Arizona

The Wild Wastelands | Ruined Skyscraper Camp​

"I'll have to take your word for it, Arizona."

Hearing the gloomy tone of his voice, she glanced up at him and reached up to pull the cigarette from her mouth.

"Thomas, you don't have to take my word for anything regarding Disneyland. It's been two centuries, I've never even been there, and I'm an old Ghoul. For all you know, I've gone senile and can't remember it worth a damn. So you believe what you want about Disneyland, don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Wastes are bad enough, people oughta believe in something, right?" she told him with a small, soft smile.

As soon as she said that, she could hear a snide little voice in the back of her head. You're going soft, old girl. The hell I am, she thought, clearing her throat as her face returned to it's normally grumpy lines and Thomas continued.

"There's two towns on the way to Dunwich. The closest to Dunwich would be Tenpenny Towers. Last I heard, they weren't exactly welcoming of ... smooth skins. The other is Megaton. I'd prefer if we went to Tenpenny though."

"Right. We can go to both, and if Tenpenny Towers is full of Ghouls who don't like normal folks like you, that's their problem. Worse comes to worst, they make too much of a fuss, we'll kill 'em all and loot the corpses. Wouldn't be the first time it's come to that, but with any luck, it won't come to that." she said gruffly.

 

[Drummodino]

The Wild Wasteland | Sunrise Shack​

Despite the late night before Charlie was feeling strangely upbeat and cheery this morning. Since Sylph had been doing the lion's share of the cooking up until now, Charlie took it upon himself to make breakfast. As he fried up some of the plentiful Mirelurk meat they had obtained the day before, he pulled out some of his precious Brahmin jerky from home along with some Dandy Boy Apples. To help wash the meal down he poured the two of them half a bottle of purified water each.

"Sylph, food's ready!" he called out to the girl who was still lying down on the cot. Chewing on the deliciously spicy jerky he smothered the fire with dirt before picking up his plate.

"I'm gonna go sit outside and watch the sunrise, I recommend you eat that before it gets cold." he said as he walked out the door, sitting down up against the wall and getting stuck in to the food. As the daylight grew brighter the strange, desolate beauty of the ruined landscape became more apparent. As he took a sip of his water Charlie reflected that he was extremely glad he'd set out on this adventure, even if it caused him bodily injury from time to time.

 

[Generic NPC 22]

The Wild Wastelands | Intersecting Paths
This Will (Not) Be Good​

Let it not be said that the life of a Raider was necessarily one filled with excitement or adventure or women (or men) or caps or food or fun or longevity but on this particular day, Fishface felt something in the air, a sort of electric excitement that he could feel from the tip of his toes to the top of his head... or it could have been the ill advised shock collar around his neck rigged to motion sensors that monitored the crossroads that the Raider group worked. It was rare enough for the Fishface and Friends Raiding Group to get one group of potential victims but two groups was a sign from God that this was going to be a good day.

Now, as a general rule of thumb, Fishface and Friends didn't like tackling their targets head on. Typically their mode of execution was to lead their Sheeple towards a minefield laced killzone through the use of Sniper Rifles. There was usually no fuss ... but... after the mines were done with them, there was tons of muss. An even rarer treat for Fishface and Friends was to get two groups. Through the clever use of positioning and, once again, their sniper rifles, they would take the two groups think that they were attacking each other, before they swooped in for the kills and the loot.

FishFace and friends watched as the first group, one that consisted of a horrid looking man dressed up on ratty formal clothing and an equally horrid looking ghoul. The second group, was only slightly better as it consisted of a boy and a girl wearing a Death Claw plush backpack. Signaling to FoxFace and FrogFace, the Raiders waited to spring their hilarious trap.

[hr]

Thomas and Arizona had packed up their camp after a long and restless night. While he still appeared mopey, inside he was glad to be on the road again. Perhaps this was a remnant of his previous life. Thinking about it, he missed the old bicycle that used to carry him from town to town. Of course, while it wouldn't have been good manners to speak ill of a man who couldn't defend himself, he silently cursed Frank Rose, though the memory of how the bike was lost was rather amusing.

"So, I used to have this bicycle that had been built back before the War. She was truly a beauty. Black curved frame and these tires that could grip the road like a dead man grips his caps. Of course, you might be wondering 'Thomas where in the devil is this beautiful bike that you're speaking of?' Well, Miss Arizona. Have you ever seen a man in Power Armor try to ride a bike, down a hill that's almost entirely composed of rubble? I hadn't until Frank tried. The ride down rattled him so hard that metal plates started falling off his armor as easily as the bike's bars were bending under his weight... and then his excrement containment system failed... and the brown started flying."

Of course, not one second later after the phrase 'and the brown started flying,' the shit hit the fan as the two snipers positioned on opposite sides of the field fired on their targets, intentionally missing.

~CRACK!~

The bullet coming in from the West exploded against the side of a wrecked car.

[hr]

The Crimson Crusader walked silently next to Charlie Cannon, trying to keep down what was supposed to be a good meal. Something about Mirelurk meat didn't sit right with her. Perhaps it was the fact that save for the one occasion they had BlamCo, they'd been subsisting on Mirelurk meat from the day before... Mirelurk meat that didn't have an icebox to keep it from starting to turn. Stopping off by the side of the road, Sylph leaded up against the wall of what was once a toy store.

A quick glance inside made the Red Menace walk away from the building quite briskly. The sight of clowns agreed with her about as much as the Mirelurk meat did.

Sylph had directed them towards the direction of the small campfire that she spotted the night before, the one that looked rather inviting. It was unfortunate though that they would never make it as a shot rang out, the report bouncing against the multitude of cement walls around them. All Sylph knew was that the shot came somewhere from the East.

"Look there!" Sylph said, charging towards what she thought were their attacked.

[hr]

Through his broken binoculars, FishFace chuckled as the little blue haired girl started running towards the tall pasty looking one, tackling him against the ground and punching him in the face repeatedly.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

 

[Rip Van Rabbit]

Kristin Blamco - New Vegas Council: A Few Months Ago
"Another Hearing"​

"So, let me get this straight." One of the Council members straightened the paperwork of the BlamCo profit reports for the year. "You, Kristin Blamco, of the Blamco family of the same name, is solely responsible for a 400% debt in the middle and upper-class markets?"

"They have paid with their faith. Faith in BlamCo. Do you not - ...?!"

The council member held up a hand to stop her. "We are also to believe that your advertising campaign is centered around 'Blamcoism', you have spent a ludicrous amount on this alone. Are you trying to run a business, welfare or a church, Miss Blamco?"

"I-if I am to promote the will of the Gods, surely the unenlightened will embrace the blessings that - ...!?"

The council man sighed and turned off the recorder, "Listen. I'm going to brutally honest with you here. You will lose the business if this 'Blamcoism' gimmicky crap continues. As it stands right now, the New Vegas BlamCo branch and all their assets will be liquidated to pay off your debt. Or you can hand over the ownership of the BlamCo branch to our people. Branding will be changed obviously since we don't want to be associated with the mess you have created. Your choice, Miss Blamco."

Kristin bit her lip, how could they be so blind!? A gimmick!? How dare they talk down to the BlamCo Heiress!

"If that is the way you see it, then I choose the latter. I, Kristin Blamco, formally condemn New Vegas and all it's citizens to a godless life that knows not the warmth of cheese!"

The council man merely smirked in reply.

[hr]

Kristin Blamco - Springvale​

"I suggest you accept my terms and take Miss Black to Megaton, but before you leave, "#411 paused with a smile on her face, "I want you, Miss Blamco, to swear upon the honor of BlamCo that you will uphold your end of the bargain."

Kristin was already drawing her blade upon seeing the smirk on #411's face, only to be unceremoniously interrupted by Jonathan once more. The BlamCo Heiress was pulled aside and given a condescending talking to. He reprimanded her for her actions, suggested that she go back on her honor for the sake of deceit and most dreadfully, he showed no concern for the lives of those younger females that were surely marching towards their death.

Don't you dare talk down to me.

Hmph, who's to say that the might of BlamCo will not eclipse the influence of the Enclave?
Who's to say that she cannot create a new age of BlamCo with the help of her own blue-haired army?
By the grace of the Dairy Gods...

"I swear to the Gods of BlamCo, not to a godless Agent of Soya.", Kristin replied aggressively, a combination of her hatred for this situation and her frustration at Jonathan's condescension. "If you want our help, I suppose you will have to trust us, won't you?"

Kristin dismissively turned on her heel and proceeded to cradle the unconscious body of Lucy Black. Miss Black did not seem well at all and she looked positively dreadful while covered was in her own blood. Nevertheless, they were heading to some place called 'Megaton' in order to secure Miss Black's safety. Despite her annoyance at Jonathan, surely he could at least give her vague directions. Kristin mulled over the decision of talking to Jonathan or not...yet threw the notion aside when she fixed the eyepatch back onto the small one-eyed female. They had more pressing matters to attend to...and she was not fond of personal discussions.

Yes, a part of Kristin was questioning Jonathan's intentions behind following her. If he did not care for her beliefs, fine. But she would not be taken for a fool in the process. She had enough of that back 'home'.

"Lets go."

Kristin declared flatly, swiftly exiting the house and gathering her bag of BlamCo goods once more.

 

[Texas Joker 52]

Arizona

The Wild Wastelands | Intersecting Paths | The Road to Dunwich​

By the time they left the camp, dousing the fire and gathering their things for their trip to Dunwich, Arizona was in a particularly foul mood. She'd barely gotten any sleep, partly due to the fact that the talk of religion the night before made her rather uncomfortable, as well as the fact that she had found out that the couch she 'salvaged' was home to a few radroaches that startled her in the night.

As such, she was finishing her second cigarette of the morning, all while her lone eye drooped in an expression of supreme crankiness.

"So, I used to have this bicycle that had been built back before the War."

"Eh?" she grunted, glancing back at her traveling companion as he started to reminisce about a bike of all things.

"She was truly a beauty. Black curved frame and these tires that could grip the road like a dead man grips his caps. Of course, you might be wondering 'Thomas where in the devil is this beautiful bike that you're speaking of?' Well, Miss Arizona. Have you ever seen a man in Power Armor try to ride a bike, down a hill that's almost entirely composed of rubble? I hadn't until Frank tried. The ride down rattled him so hard that metal plates started falling off his armor as easily as the bike's bars were bending under his weight... and then his excrement containment system failed... and the brown started flying."

She had no idea what the point was to any of that, and the mood she was in meant she didn't really care either. But the idea of some idiot in Power Armor trying to ride a damn bicycle made her smirk a little as she took the cigarette butt from between her teeth and stamped it out onto the broken pavement.


The moment she bent down to do so, she heard the rifle shot crack out. Her head immediately swung around to face the West, then she grabbed Thomas and pulled him with her behind some cover, a series of wrecked cars. She worked to get Lester ready for action when she heard another gunshot and saw a flash of movement and blue hair before Thomas was on the ground and being pounded in the face.

She lashed out at his attacker with a sharp kick before leveling the Light Machine Gun at them.

"Get off of Thomas and tell me where the sniper is, or else I let Lester tear you to shreds you son-of-a-*****!" she roared with fire in her eye.

 

[Drummodino]

The Wild Wastelands | Intersecting Paths​

Charlie walked alongside Sylph in the direction she indicated, feeling a little bit queasy. Maybe eating that Mirelurk meat hadn't been a good idea, it really needed some preservatives or something to keep it from going foul. Peering into the nearby buildings Charlie was wondering if they could find some salt around here when the crack of a gunshot rang out. Instinctively ducking down behind a ruined car, Charlie looked around for the source before he saw Sylph charging off down the road. Drawing his laser pistol and pulling a grenade out of his pouch he quickly scampered after her, eventually catching up as she jumped on a man and started beating him up with her small fists. The man's companion, a ghoul of all things, kicked Sylph away before levelling her machine gun at them.

"Get off of Thomas and tell me where the sniper is, or else I let Lester tear you to shreds you son-of-a-*****!"

"That sniper ain't with us lady!" Charlie yelled back, keeping his pistol levelled at her while trying to simultaneously watch her and scan the surroundings for more attackers. "In fact I'm very much inclined to think they're working with you!" he continued as he slowly walked to the side of a building, trying to stay out of the line of fire.

 

[Generic NPC 22]

The Wild Wastelands | The Grisly Diner
Over 5 served here​

The Grisly Diner had been busy as of late, in fact, one might say that the last month or so had been the busiest period the Diner had seen in the last 200 years. It seemed that someone had taken the time to start renovations and that someone was Henry McGee, brother to one Thomas "Shifty" McGee. What else was he going to do when his only jobs were to monitor some of the key players in the D.C. Wastelands and wait for news from home. The peculiar sound of percolating coffee had become somewhat of a soothing mantra for the brother of the Former Undertaker who had turned away from the family business to pursue clone crafting and slaving.

Unlike most days where the customers had come against their will, Henry had a visitor. This one would have been rather familiar to some as Professor Flink, the scientist who had assisted Sylph in the repairs of her choker.

"So, Professor, it's been quite some time." Henry stated simply as he took a sip of his coffee, "I hear had a successful outing and that you did manage to repair that choker that I had commissioned you to create all those years ago."

"Well yes and I made the modifications that you requested."

"Good. This should prove to be very interesting." Henry said as he turned his eyes towards the video stream of the scuffle that had broken out between Sylph and Thomas.

[hr]

The Wild Wastelands | Intersecting Paths
Thomas... you ARE the Father!!​

Between the sound of Thomas's face being punched by the Crimson Crusader and overlapping yells of Arizona and Charlie Cannon there wasn't a whole lot of communicating going on, which is exactly what FishFace and Friends was hoping would happen when they tricked the two duos into attacking one another.

While Arizona and Charlie were yelling demands and hurling accusations at one another, something entirely different was occurring between the two known as Thomas "Shifty" McGee and Sylph. For one, Sylph was crying.

Crying? Surely I must be lying, you're probably thinking, since Sylph NEVER EVER cries and if Sylph does cry, it's only when she's Sylphee. Sylph simply doesn't cry. Until now.

As for Thomas, he was going into a state of shock. This shock wasn't from the fact that Sylph was on top of him, hitting him, nor was it from the fact that she was beating him about the head, neck and shoulders. What was causing Thomas to go into a state of shock was what Sylph was asking him after she had stopped pummeling him.

"Why'd you leave me Father? Why? Why Why Why? Why'd you leave me alone with her? You know that I can't stand her!" Sylph asked as she tricked Thomas into believing that he'd fallen into the circle of Hell called Maury, a place reserved for promiscuous men.

This of course didn't bode well for the Former Friendly Undertaker because there were very few things that drew as much sympathy from people as a woman crying. Combine that with the fact that she was calling the man that she had been pummeling with her fists "Father," Thomas was looking as sympathetic a Raider running around with his clothing on fire. It also probably didn't help his plea for sympathy when he was overheard yelling:

"Sylph what are you talking about?! I'm not your Father!!" The Scummy Former Undertaker took a page out of the Deadbeat Dad's Manual to being an Ass.

"Yes! Yes you are! Why would you even say that?!" Sylph retorted, obviously happy to see Thomas, the way a child would be happy to see her father.

"Because someone killed you real parents and made you a slave." The Foot-In-Mouth-Friendly Neighborhood Undertaker said.

Totally smoothe man. Totally. If Arizona and Charlie had stopped long enough to listen to the very special episode of Shifty's Hell, they might have also heard the member of FishFace and Friends laughing their asses off.

 

[Neuromancer]

Black Residence: You Can (Not) Give Up​

As Kristin moved back to confront the agent and decide their course, there was visible distress and frustration painted all over her face. And as she readied herself to announce her decision, Jonathan buried himself in his hat, sheltering the upper part of his face from prying eyes, and closed his eyes.

"I swear to the Gods of BlamCo, not to a godless Agent of Soya. If you want our help, I suppose you will have to trust us, won't you?"

There was an uncharacteristic amount of aggressiveness to the Cheese Princess' voice as she decided to swear the oath, and Jonathan felt he was very much guilty for it.

Or, to be more precise, he felt guilty for including her in a matter that, for all intents and purposes, she shouldn't have been in. He felt guilty for using her as leverage for the negotiations, guilty for not being able to shelter her from being outplayed by #411, and he felt guilty that she was made to choose between two losing scenarios.

Opening his eyes, he returned to the real world. There was silence after the announcement, silence that he was not comfortable with. Still, their course was now clear.

Now the die is cast. The first step, taken.

He turned to look at Lucy, who Kristin, despite her anger and frustration, was gently being picked up. At the very least, despite everything that had happened, she was out of this. Maybe. #411 had ignored an order from the very man she idolized; breaking an agreement seemed trivial to that. But, at the very least, as long as Jonathan was still needed, #411 would probably not risk losing his services. Small relief, but it was better than nothing.

A glimmer of hope lights up our lives.

You're waaaaaaay too empathetic, Johnny boy. Your show of kindness may have cost you the deal you worked towards, and what would you have done then? Besides...

"Let's go." said the princess in a cold hateful tone, walking outside without even turning to face him. That took Jonathan aback, way more than he thought it would.

...it looks like she mistook your intentions, dodo-head that she is.

Jonathan let out a deep, exhausted sigh.

But such is the human condition. You say something, that something is misunderstood and lots of pain and drama happens.

He burried himself in his hat again, attempting to bottle up the anger that was building up in him. Anger at how he handled things, anger at the situation he was in, anger that he also dragged Kristin down with him.

So why even bother? What's the point in trying to help people if they'll simply push you away as if you tried to do them harm? Being empathetic is pathetic indeed.

"I'm keeping the plasma pistol," Jonathan said, as he pushed himself to return back the cold neutrality of playing the game, to #411 as she was stared at the door with a smirk mixed with superiority and satisfaction, " I made it, so it's only fitting." and proceeded to walk towards the door.

He hated her smirk. That sense of satisfaction derived from schadenfreude. He was barely holding himself from damning everything up and just drawing and shooting her; he really wanted wipe it off. But, Kristin had decided she would rather uphold their end of the bargain, and since he had given her the final say on the matter he had to content with the consequences it brings.

Still, he couldn't just walk off without having a final say.

"I hope you uphold your end of the bargain, Agent #411," he said shooting her a threatening side-glance as he stood at the door, "Or else I'll hit you where it hurts." and finished as started walking outside, "And I think you're intelligent enough to know who I'm talking about."

Jonathan walked out of the house. From the placement of the sun, Jonathan could see that it was afternoon now. The entire ordeal had left him extremely emotionally fatigued, and what little satisfaction he had taken out of it wasn't enough to fill the void.

Kristin was... waiting for him to get going, all her things packed up. She was staring at the distance with what seemed to be sadness mixed with disappointment and irritation, apparently lost in thought.

He wanted to explain to her. To let her know his reasons for what he told her. Yes, it was true that he knew her for less than a day and she had mostly tried to kill him in various ways over the course of it, but for better or for worse, thanks to what happened inside Lucy Black's house, Kristin Blamco was dragged into his baggage and stuck with him. So, it only stood to reason that he took responsibilty for her well-being for the time they would have to travel together, even though Kristin was probably more able to look after herself in most dangerous situations out in the wasteland than Jonathan ever could.

"Miss Kris-" he started, only to abruptly stop as Kristin, being interrupted from her thoughts, completely changed her disposition and shot him a glare that clearly said that she was not in the mood to hear even a single word of his. From that glare it also became clear to Jonathan that he hurt her way more than he originally thought he did.

All I ever do is hurt people.

Hah.

Jonathan, his face filled with sorrow and regret, hanged his head in defeat, pulled up his scarf and put on his sunglasses, which, combined with his hat, completely covered his face and hid his features. Other than making him wander around incognito, it also served as a mask of sorts, one that he could hide his bitterness behind.

Taking que of the fact that Kristin probably only waited for him to show her the way to Megaton, Jonathan walked ahead and, with whatever emotion written on his face concealed behind his "mask", motioned Kristin to follow him as they went back to where they started to pick up the rest of his things, and then headed off to Megaton.

It was going to be one long and arduous road to walk, he felt, and not because of the distance.

 

[Generic NPC 22]

The Wild Wastelands | The Enclave Vault | Interrogation Room #23
Conversations between a traitor and Fallout Jack (Except #2) - Co-produced by [user]FalloutJack[/user]​

Seeing Jack's face brought memories of the horrors that she had experienced and the turning point that seeing Jack had made. While he never took advantage of the matter, he'd saved Charlotte from a life of being used until she couldn't be used any longer. Seeing him made her feel safe. BUt the tone that he took when addressing her squashed those feelings and what emotions she had on her face were quitely stuffed back behind a mask.

"Jack, I understand the sentiment and why you specifically ordered us away from the Black residence. However, it wouldn't have been prudent to allow her free reign out of our sight. Her ruse at being loyal to our cause was what allowed her to leave the Vault. She quickly abandoned her mission to locate the Enclave Underground. As an Intelligence Specialist for the Enclave, it's my duty to ensure that potential threats are monitored. After settling into her familial home, she was visited by two individuals. One was the heiress to the BlamCo name and the other... Bob... was falsely identified as a former member of the Enclave... a deserter. I'll admit, it wasn't enough to cast her as a danger once again, but it did warrant further investigation. Also, she should have been informed that her former associate, Shifty McGee, had been released from our custody. You'll be pleased to know that he's no longer being targeted by Vulture E32." Charlotte reported professionally. She was walking a dangerous line. If Jack didn't feel the same way as her, any admission to the plan on her part would have been as good as her shooting herself in the gut. Number One was not known for being kind to traitors in his ranks, "As you also read in my report, she was cleared of my suspicions."

"As for why I disobeyed, we're the Enclave. We're the future of the Wasteland. We can't let people think that we're weak." She said in a rather serious tone. She was testing Jack, seeing what his opinion on the current state of the Enclave was.

FalloutJack: Hmmm...

Jack appeared to be in deep thought for a moment. Then, he said...

FalloutJack: Number One never trusted her to fulfill that mission, and I had to agree, based on my own feelings on the matter. To wit, Natsuki would immediately kill anyone who kill me. I, admittedly, dropped the ball on Shifty. I wanted him to surprise her, making my intentions for a clean break clearer than words can describe. As for the Enclave...

He scratched the back of his head for a moment.

FalloutJack: It's not weakness that's the problem. It's the fact that nobody can accept that this Enclave is a new entity, trying a new direction. You know that the Remnants over in Mojave are all heroes and the Brotherhood's stuck trying to control things - and failing at it - while mostly everybody hates them? We don't lack in manpower anymore, and we have the technology. Our problem is the past, AND that things are getting out of hand. Our problem is that we're very resilient and lethal, and we can't really stop either at the moment because we'd get killed. There's alot out there to be worried about.

Charlotte took a sip of... whatever it was FalloutScott had concocted... and nodded. If part of the Enclave's problem was image, they were doing a piss poor job of attempting to rebrand themselves, Charlotte thought to herself before saying just that.

"If the issue is rebranding our image, we're not doing the best job. What's this I hear about Bravo company setting up over at Vault-Tec Headquarters and setting a bunch of bots loose on a passing caravan? Ridiculously, if it weren't for #209, we'd have another bunch of dead civilian bodies on our hands." The Enclave Intelligence Specialist commented, showing that even out on the field, she still tried to keep pace as to where all the key Enclave players were.

"Off the record, I think that Number One's mysterious leader bit isn't the sort of thing that the Enclave needs in order for the people to start trusting us. The Enclave needs someone that's been in the field, doing good for the people of the Wasteland." This was perilously close to treason though Charlotte had a perfectly good cover as she fanned herself, "Yeesh. Scott makes a strong batch of punch."

FalloutJack: To be honest, I have no idea what's in this besides the scotch. Apparently, he also polishes his suit with it. The problem with Bravo Company is they got bored, as #209 does on occasion. When they do, they get up to mischief, lethal mischief. The Bravos were there as a follow-up to Operation 'Clearing The Path', where the cyborgs we sent west cleared four-fiftths of Caesar's Legion, territory and all. NCR then killed 'em all at the Hoover Dam, but they had already been dead to begin with. The Enclave gets creative, but it also tends to edge on madness sometimes. The problem with Number One is...

He puts down the...whatever-it-is, now.

FalloutJack: ...he never stops being mysterious, and I don't think he CAN stop. I've never seen him outside his suit and he can do even more than I can. But the real issue is...we need him for all the stuff that's going on. He can see the lines joining all the dots, and he has the capacity to use it. Actually, here, tell me something. Why do you think the Fallout Sector exists?

[hr]

The Wild Wasteland | 324 West Black Lane (BlamCo HQ)
Blam'd if you do Blam'd if you don't​

Seeing the two Blamites leave with the unconscious of Former Enclave Asset Lucy Black in the direction of Megaton, Enclave Intelligence Specialist #411 dropped the mask and started breathing freely once again. Jonathan McKenna was smarter than he appeared and when combined with Kristin Blamco's sheer zeal for battle, the two made a power combination. Which was why #411 was eager to get them on her side of the field, at least so she could keep track of them when the time came. She knew that in the end, the duo would ultimately betray her. Honor and keeping one's word was a pretty sentiment that became one of the first things to fall to the wayside when trouble came a knockin'.

Speaking of trouble. It appeared that Constance was having her share of issues judging from the data she had just received on her adopted daughter's status. Seeing as how #411 would not be there to greet Constance in person, she removed a set of tools from a utility compartment in her Enclave Power Armor and set it on the table as well as a piece of paper on which she had written a note.

My Dearest Constance,

It has come to my attention that you've recently come into contact with the Self Replicating Clone colony that recently took root around the ruins of Vault 108 and that the blue haired clones have chosen you as their leader. Let me be the first to congratulate you on this achievement. I do not need to remind you assuming the role of leader should not be taken lightly. It is your responsibility to ensure that they are well maintained and have their basic requirements met.

Upon hearing this news, I have generated a new assignment for you. You are to turn this colony of clone civilians into a standing army. For that, you will need to train these girls and turn them into soldiers. Additionally, you will need to outfit your army with weapons that suit them. It is for that reason that I have located two assets to assist you in this task. Given the Enclave's less than stellar reputation with the Wastelanders, you shall be working deep cover. This means your uniform and any Enclave identification will need to be hidden away. I've left a set of civilian clothing with these tools to repair your ears.

Do not fail in this endeavor,

Charlotte

Looking at the letter, Enclave Intelligence Specialist #411 sighed at the pang of regret that she felt for being unable to express the pride that she felt when she saw the latest merit scores that Constance had achieved. Outside of Constance and herself there were no others in the world that knew that Charlotte did indeed love her daughter, however, it was through the shared experience of living with the Raiders that had taught them that the fewer people are aware of an emotional bond, the fewer people will be able to use it to their advantage.

Folding up the paper and tucking it under the tools, #411 stood up to take care of the last bit of business before the extraction team came in to "rescue" her.

"Pilot. You can come out now, the coast is clear." #411 called out and saw the pilot's head pop up from behind a pile of rubble located not far from a window belonging to the hovel belonging to Lucy Black.

Approaching the pilot, she saw that the man's stance was tense, the way that he looked at her told her that he had overheard some of the conversation that occurred between the Blamco princess, the Ex-Enclave Weaponsmith and herself. Were he loyal to her, he wouldn't have been trying to hide his knowledge of the situation. Were he going to back her on her push for FalloutJack to come to power, he wouldn't have kept his distance from her, knowing that Jonathan had taken her Plasma pistol. It was unfortunate for the Pilot that neither he nor Jonathan was aware of the hidden plasma caster built into all Enclave Intelligence Power Armor's wrist. The pilot didn't realize until it was too late that his chest was already becoming a green mass of ooze.

With all the loose ends accounted for, Charlotte waited for the extraction team to arrive.

"If this was really a crisis situation, I'd have been dead already." #411 mused as she pulled out a hunk of jerky and gnawed on it.

 

[Texas Joker 52]

Arizona

The Wild Wasteland | The Road to Dunwich | Intersecting Paths​

It was quickly clear that Thomas's attacker wasn't alone, because the moment she leveled Lester at the blue-haired *****, a laser pistol was leveled at her.

"That sniper ain't with us lady! In fact I'm very much inclined to think they're working with you!"

"What makes you think the sniper is with us you dipshit?! We got shot at too!" she snarled, Lester's barrel swaying between both the woman and her companion.

It was during that tense moment that Arizona finally managed to catch some of what the woman was saying as she finally stopped beating at Thomas's chest and face.

"-leave me Father? Why? Why Why Why? Why'd you leave me alone with her? You know that I can't stand her!"

Hold on, 'Father'? Thomas? Either the girl was lying, or maybe Thomas's weird religion had a point and it really was a small world after all. She slowly lowered her machine gun as she stared at the two in the middle of their strange and ill-timed heart-to-heart. At least, until she heard the distant laughter and glared in where she thought it was coming from.

"Quiet you two. Hear that? It's the sniper laughing their ass off at the scene yer makin'. So before we do anything about who happens to be your father, girlie, we may want to kill that sumbitch first." she hissed before a bland smile spread her chapped and wrinkled lips, "Unless of course, you'd rather he take a few potshots in the middle of... Whatever it is you two are trying to do."

As she waited for them to make up their minds, she scanned their surroundings with a squint. But she made sure to remember to talk to Thomas about what the hell was going on with that girl once the danger passed. She wasn't about to admit it right then, but the idea of his uncomfortable revelation of fatherhood was immensely entertaining.