Radiated Wonderland(New Vegas RP)[O/A]

[OrgasmicGebusCrust]

╔══════════════╗

Lydia "Gypsy" Daniels

╚══════════════╝

☆═━┈┈━═☆
Lucky am I ( → Vault Dweller E X Follower )
≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎
⋯⋯⋯ ⋯⋯⋯
≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎
⋯⋯⋯ ⋯⋯⋯≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎
⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎
⋯ ⋯⋯ ⋯
✚ ✚ ✚I'm the Stranger with the big The Big Iron on my hip

The woman watched him, with mild interest. Mild mind you. She wasn’t one to show any interest in anyone really. For one thing, she had business to think about. Besides, she hardly got to speak to a fellow trader, except for brief exchanges. It was nice to kick back with someone, especially when that someone wasn’t trying to steal your caps, wasn’t hissing at you, or trying to kill you. Plus he was cute. Almost as cute as Boone. Now there was a man she would have to pay a visit to soon. Then again, he hardly noticed her. He was so loyal to his wife, who honestly was a b***h. She glanced at the male next to her, for he had begun to spoke. Her face fell. Ruins were a bust? Seriously? She had come all this way for nothing. She grimaced. “Just peachy. I was hoping to get some medical supplies and head to Camp Forlorn Hope. Great.” It was then she paused. His next words made her pause, and her eyes widen. Veba? The Veba? The bandaged man? The guy who is wanted by the NCR? She ordered another drink and downed it, before she spoke. “So…wait, you met Veba? You met him and lived?” She turned to the door, and finally understood why the blood was there. She could have had a chance to team up with a real badass, and this man let him slip through his fingers?! She stopped listening to the male. He wouldn’t have had a chance to nuke Veba….that man was something of a God. Or the Devil. Ah s**t. Maybe she could go find Veba before he got too far. Force him to go with her. Now she was getting way to ahead of herself. No. No she wasn’t. Veba would do it if she could give him access to things he needed. Such as NCR rangers. Oh buddy this could work in her favor.

She let her mind wander. Maybe even this Veba was cute. Maybe she would get a peek at some of his more intimate places. She snapped out of her thoughts when the man spoke again. “Trust issues? You have to, do you realize what kind of world we live in? You should travel more and tell me it’s a safe world.” Her voice was starting to get a higher pitch, and began to slur slightly. She then smiled. “Aw you like me? No one has said that to me before….” She giggled suddenly, and then hiccupped. “Aw shucks. I’m not rare, you should see some of the girls I have met. Some of them are mighty pretty and amazingly smart…” She trailed off, then nodded. “Of course. Let’s explore the Wastes eh? You and me, a duo even Deathclaws would fear.” But he was standing and apparently leaving. Her eyes widened as she set down some caps, and stood, slightly wobbling. She tried not to sway as she stepped toward the male. “Hey wait!” She nearly tripped, and caught herself, grabbing her bag and getting in front of the man. “Whoa…whoa sir…please, please stop moving. Why not we team up eh? Will you please stop moving….and stop having two of you….and stop moving…” She suddenly grabbed onto him and yawned. “Let’s just not keep moving. And talk ok? I think I had too much….Julie always said I was a light weight…I think we should team up you know? Maybe we can take out Veba together. Then the Fiends in Vault 3….yeah that is the main goal….the Vault 3 Fiends….” The room was now spiraling out of control. “You said you had a home right? Mind if I borrow that home? Just for the night. To get some sleep.”

Out.Of.Counterspace.:

[Ghost Of The Celts]

╔════════════════╗
RYAN O'CONNOR
♦ Merchant & Scavenger ♦
╚════════════════╝

A bit taken back by the sudden attention and physicality the woman was now displaying other then showing the signs of being knockout drunk and hobbling around the place, Ryan took it all into mind that there was no way this female was going to be able to survive out there in her current condition and the fact that she was all surprised about his encounter with Veba made him more suspicious. But either way Ryan now had a role he was going to partake and the life of this female would now be in his hands as he would offer to take care of her until she was on her own two feet again. Well, not stumbling around and acting drunk as hell that is. Placing a hand on her shoulder to make sure she would at least stay stable and to honestly have a hand on her just in case she fell or something, Ryan tilted his head as he would be gin to reply to such, slurred words in his calm and normal tone. "First of all, yes. I did have a one on one encounter with this Veba that you speak of and lived to tell about it. I don't care much for him any more then I did before I met him. He's nothing to me honestly and I couldn't give two shits about his reputation. I bet I can achieve better" Ryan would start with and look over to the door of the Saloon as he honestly just wanted to get her out of the public eye and into the safety of a home, well, his for now.

"Secondly, I wasn't hitting on you due to the fact that I know what happens when I do. Never works and every female I encounter is a hard a**. Now you on the other hand, as.. drunk and slurred as you are seem to be more social and and genuinely open and honest. That's well worth talking to you. Third, teaming up with you would be a privilege and I would be more then willing to do so. It would be nice to have a fellow Trader and Scavenger such as myself on the road to encounter new areas and share caps and findings. Forth and lastly, yes I do have a house now I suppose and yes you may borrow it. I shall escort you there now. I suggest you put your arm over my shoulder that way you can stabilize and walk better. I don't know what you have in that bag of yours but I can tell it will weight you down and cause you to stumble more. Shall we?" Ryan would finish off and place his left arm on her side, waiting for her to begin moving that way he could either help her out or be within close vicinity that way she didn't fall. He wasn't the type that got to do this often so when he had moments where he could be chivalrous and help people out, he always took the opportunity.

[OrgasmicGebusCrust]

╔══════════════╗

Lydia "Gypsy" Daniels

╚══════════════╝

☆═━┈┈━═☆
Lucky am I ( → Vault Dweller E X Follower )
≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎
⋯⋯⋯ ⋯⋯⋯
≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎
⋯⋯⋯ ⋯⋯⋯≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎
⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎
⋯ ⋯⋯ ⋯
✚ ✚ ✚I'm the Stranger with the big The Big Iron on my hip

Well wasn’t this awkward. Normally the blonde wasn’t a drunk like this all the time. But as of now, she was pretty bad. Of course, she was pretty frazzled. The man before her, (wasn’t his name something or other?) was being oh so generous at the moment, but what of later? Could she really trust him? Then again, he had fought against Veba, and rumor be told that man was a one-man army. She would definitely like to keep both with her. She needed tough people to take back her home damn it. She hiccupped and clutched the man even more, trying to stop from swaying. Oh was she going to pay for her drinking. But at the moment, she was strangely ok with that. For now she had to trust this man, trust that he wouldn’t touch her inappropriately, now would he kill her, or rob her. Surely he wouldn’t. She may not be in her right state now, nor capable of firing a weapon, but god help him if he take anything from her. She would surely make sure to hunt him down. And then kill him. Slowly and painfully. Then heal him up and harm him again. Wait she had said kill him, so then how would she heal him? She lightly giggled. She wasn’t making much sense, even in her own mind. Her thoughts snapped back to the man, as he placed a hand on her shoulder, her blue eyes meeting his shaded ones. She then tilted her head, one of her hands going up to touch his cheek. “Strange that you did survive. Rumor has it he is some powerhouse. The man is dangerous. Truth be told he was burned by Legion, that or NCR. He was outcasted, that is for sure. Now he goes around killing the NCR…maybe even Legion. Of course, I wouldn’t have tangled with him. But then again, with someone like him on my side, I could take down the Fiends and regain my home.” Her voice had gone soft, her eyes now going to the floor. Damn those Fiends. They would pay. She then glanced at him. “I would hope you can. I need someone strong. Hmm someone with technology would be good….” She suddenly let her hand slide away from his cheek, as it tapped her chin. “And I would need a sniper, and Dynamite, and a Super Mutant, no, no, a Deathclaw to take out those bastards…”

She suddenly snapped back to him, a finger going to her lips. “Not every woman is a hard a**. Has it ever occurred to you that most women don’t want to settle down? Hm…and most are slaves….or prostitutes. The few of us that aren’t probably don’t want to be tied down. Besides, we are all grimy and worn down. ..” She paused to look about the room. “Ah yes, teaming up would be nice. I need someone who has my back. I also need someone who has the ability to fend for themselves. Plus, I need someone who has guts. I have my own agenda, and I need someone who can help me with that.” Her hand slid into her pocket, where a bloodied bandage was. Cook Cook, just one of the many Fiends out there. She narrowed her gaze. He was just one of many that would die by her hand. She felt a hand at her side and glanced at the man. She smile, and slid her arm around his neck. “Ah good, I would hate to have to hole up in some rocks or something. Those things can be a pain. Give you back problems, let me tell you what. So what did you say your name was again?” She wasn’t sure they had exchanged names. Maybe not.

Out.Of.Counterspace.:

[HyperElfie]

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Allen Faber
XXX• • •
XXXXX For the Brotherhood

Any dolt with half a brain
Can see that humankind has gone insane
To the point where I dont know if Ill upset the status quo
If I throw poison in the watermain.

Listen close to everybodys heart
And hear that breaking sound
Hopes and dreams are shattering apart
And crashing to the ground

As the group started off, one of the troopers noticed a ranger dressed in the high rank black armor. He was a tall, broad shouldered fellow with an AMR, as well as some other impressive pieces, strapped to his person. The thick armor and helmet covered any other distinguishable features. The officer wearing a beret, signifying he was the higher rank, approached the ranger with a customary salute. The other trooper directed Allen over their way joining back up with his partner. They seemed to be in mid way through their chat by the time they came over. Allen tried his best to cross his arms and listen in. Again the chains binding his hands proved a nuisance.

“It’s an honor sir. We don’t see many Veterans out here.”

Of course not dipshit, Allen thought. Their job was to baby sit a prisoner of war, not go on an assassination mission to kill Caesar. On any ranking scale that’s a pretty low job. Granted it provided no stress or battle worries, but at the same time no glory. When little kids ask you ‘what did you do during the battles at Hover Dam?’ what would you answer? ‘Oh I watched a man screw in a battery.’ Really exhilarating.

The trooper behind him spoke up. “You must be comin’ back from the Dam right? What’s the situation up there?”

That’s right Privet Wyatt (these two deserve a name) had a brother stationed at the fort, Allen recalled. Having been around the privet for the five or so years captured, he tended to hear about these details. Of course, most of what was said usually went in one ear and out the other. Does knowing the family history of one of your captors help to jury-rig a standing turret gun? Nope. Dismissible details like that deserved to be tossed aside.

The ranger paused for a moment searching for an answer. He turned to the Officer, Officer Brewer, and replied. “Situation’s pretty rough. Everyone’s wound up for Kimball’s speech. Legion activity has been low around that area. It’s not normal for them. I am on my way back to the fort to report, and bring back my troop with me. What about you guys? Where are you headed?”

Jesus, for a Veteran ranger the man was quite uptight. He gave his answer like a service report to two low ranking troopers. Allen had suspected his answer would be short and cold. Granted the Brotherhood scribe hadn’t spoke with many rangers.

“We’re circling around to the Hoover Dam, but eventually we need to get to HELIOS one.” Brewer motioned over to Allen with his thumb. “This is that Brotherhood member we caught in Operation Sunburst. Lieutenant Boyd must have gotten tired of interrogating the Brotherhood member and sent up to reactivate HELIOS. I hear they aren’t having much luck.”

“Brotherhood member has a name.” Allen growled. Of course Brewer shrug this off continuing the conversation.

“Which is odd since I hear they hired an expert to sort out HELIOS. Hopefully we can get it up and running.”

“That’s still pending on if I agree to do this. I could kill myself before we get there.” Again his comments fell flat.

“The power could really help our fellow troops at McCarran.”

“All I would have to do it toss myself off the Dam, into a den of Geckos, or hang myself with some wire. It's quite easy”

“I mean there had to be a reason the Brotherhood wanted it.”

“There were talks of turning it into a nightclub.”

“If you ask me I think they were hiding something in that plant.”

A smile crept up on his face. “Aliens mostly. Brotherhood is full of them. Didn’t you know? We’re plotting to assimilate all of humanity to our will. All a big conspiracy.”

“Did you say something?”

His grin faded as soon as Brewer turned to face him. “No.”

“Anyway, Boyd did say if we spotted any wandering NCR we were to request they accompany us to HELIOS. The offices have been filled with forms to commission more troops. If we deliver a ranger to them, maybe the forms will lighten. So, would you mind coming with us Ranger…” The officer added facing Victor once again, this time prompting for a name.

((ooc: no proofing again. I apologize for any mistakes I've made))

[Amberlioness]

╔═══════════════╗
Vanessa "Noir" Evans
╚═══════════════╝
♦ Trader by Birth, Gunsmith by Occupation, Consultant by Popular Demand ♦


The arid desert air blew harshly through the veritable ghost town that Boulder City had become; once a popular trading post near the Dam it had stood as the second coming of the New Vegas Strip, with all of the NCR forces garrisoned at the Dam for security those with weekend passes or on leave could partake in the gambling, whoring, and inebriation that the Strip offered without having to travel all the way to McCarran and dealing with those doped up Fiends who were constantly threatening the position and security of the former airport that had now become the favored posting of any soldier station in the Mojave.

'That was before my time,' thought the twenty year old trader that stepped through the street, her gecko hide boots crunching softly on the grit and loosely packed top soil; 'I was barely on the cusp of womanhood when this place got blown to hell by the NCR. Of course they had done it out of necessity to protect themselves against the Legion.

Those bull headed bigots had it coming she figured, the NCR wasn't all sunshine and roses but at least slavery was illegal and women had as fair a chance as men for standing on their own feet and making something of themselves. The Legion were nothing but an organized slaver group pushing for more territory and resources, sure their forces were disciplined and hardened troops but it would take just one strong female slave to turn a Spartacus and take out the entirety of the Legion's infrastructure; without women to perform all the back breaking labor the men would have to debase themselves to see the work done and no soldier who had been conditioned as a warrior and made to think that such labor was beneath them would simply acquiesce to the affront on their manhood. It would be utter chaos, and that thought brought a pleasant smirk to the brunette's cherry lips.

There wasn't much that Boulder City offered the Gunrunner in the way of clientele and with the shoddy state of affairs the settlement was on now there wasn't much of an inclination to stick around and gather information since there were no soldiers partaking in the jubilee that the town had once encompassed. Still, it was nice to be in an area that wasn't plagued by creatures or raid... the thought died, half formed in her mind as the trader strode past the saloon; the dispersal of blood against the walls that framed the parlor giving her pause. She was a trained gunsmith and arms trader, she knew that this kind of blood pattern was going to be caused by a high velocity round and a headshot based on its height off the ground. Looking closely at the blood droplets that were now coagulated and baking into the structure she could just barely make out the tear drop shapes of the blood cast, turning one-eighty she looked out into the distance for the hide.

In her mind's eye she picked out the available positions for this kind of shot and noticed the two boulders in the distance and came to the conclusion that those stones represented the optimal level of cover but it also meant that the shooter had to be extraordinarily skilled. In today's day and age snipers of those caliber were exceptionally rare, the pun was not lost on her despite her train of thought. Still, there were only two or three men in play in this region to make that kind of shot and considering the information she had on this city there were only two shooters that made it onto her list. She had heard rumors of a Legionnaire that had been making quite the impact in recent weeks, a sniper who had supposedly picked off an NCR sentry from across the span of the Colorado river. The second was Veba, and considering who had taken up residence in this town it was a fifty-fifty guess which shooter had been active here.

Looking around, she spotted a group of NCR troopers and one Veteran Ranger by the town exit, and she turned and moved towards them briskly. Behind her could be heard the soft padding of her companions, Duke; a fearsome mixed breed dog who displayed traits of the local coyote population with his grey coloring and sleek compact build but his fur was short-haired and he was possessed of a strong chest and neck that were incongruous with the coyotes but reminiscent of a Dobberman-breed. Her second companion was her pack animal, a brahmin known as Anabel; the beast was remarkably dependable having never fled from a fight and in fact having saved the brunette a time or two with a well placed back kick to some raider's groin or gut.

As she neared the group of soldiers, she knew that what they would see was a cute twenty year old brunette with a dog and a brahmin and be inclined to wave off her words so she chose to let Anabel settle beside her and slightly to the side so that the crest of the Gunrunners was clearly seen on the saddlebags. "Hey troopers, I don't know if you noticed but there's a nasty blood splatter on the saloon back there and based on the evidence I'd say you've got yourselves a bonafide sniper on the loose out here. I trust you've heard that the Legion have got a new shooter who took out the Sentry by Forlorn Hope, and considering you've got a retired NCR Veteran Ranger in this town I think you guys should go check to see if your man is still breathing. Based on the directionality of the blood and the splatter, your shooter was shooting from the ridge over yonder, by those boulders with a high velocity round."

Vanessa Evans, was nothing if not the consummate professional and as a member of the Gunrunners her words in regard to forensic ballistic analysis would hold a lot more weight than she could have thrown around otherwise. Despite her diminutive height when compared to the ranger she was standing beside or the prisoner who while kneeling could probably see to her shoulder if her chose to sit up at full she could be an imposing woman when she chose to be. Although her tattered jeans and midriff exposing vest and t-shirt combo wouldn't help much to add to her commanding presence. "Well don't just stand there, get moving; I'm sure this ranger here would look after your prisoner while you verify that his brethren isn't lying dead in a dumpster as a ransacked corpse!"

"My job is to sell weapons, you can feed me all the lines you want to about moral and ethical obligations but quite frankly I don't care about that... what I do care about is that the guns shoot; because so long as they're shooting, someone is going to need to buy more bullets."

[Ghost Of The Celts]

╔════════════════╗
RYAN O'CONNOR
♦ Merchant & Scavenger ♦
╚════════════════╝

Listening as Ryan began to move closer to the door of the Saloon and walk the female out of the place, he heard as she began to start telling the tale of this Veba guy and to him, he was honestly blocking it out not showing much care or concern for the story and basically focusing on everything but the topic. But once she went on to other things his attention was brought back and it was even a bit shocking to him that she placed her hand on his cheek since to him that was a sign of care and concern above friendship but at the same time he realized that the female was of course drunk and such attention wasn't permanent. It was merely temporary until she woke up. Managing to get out of the Saloon and looking around at the scenery around him, his eyes caught sight of Veba in the distance now talking to a group of what seemed to be soldiers and some female who was with the group. Either way Ryan didn't want to tangle with any one of them and in reality Ryan couldn't give two ******** about who was there and what they were talking about. His main focus was getting the female to the safety of his own shack and letting her sleep. However there were questions that he needed to answer and the fact that they were outside didn't exactly grant him the right state of mind to answer anything just yet.

Finally guiding the female to his shack and unlocking the door, he let her walk in first before him before he would close the door and lock it, walking over to the small table with two chairs in the corner of the room and seat himself down as he replied "Welcome home" and let the female do her own thing. Now that the two were safe for now and indoors, Ryan felt more open to start talking about things and as he took the duffelbag off of his shoulders and placed it on the table, he relaxed and began to talk. "Alright, since we are inside and within quiet walls I can start sharing names and such. My name is Ryan O'Connor. I'm a round-about Merchant and Scavenger of these places looking only for items to sell for gold. If I find anything rare or fun to play with however, I tend to keep it and fiddle around with it's mechanics when I have free moments. As far as your own personal agendas are concerned, as long as you don't involve me in personal drama with people and put blame or accuse me of doing anything then we're good. Not to mention I should tell you this now, I don't care about that Veba guy so if you bring him up then I'm basically gonna' ignore you and go about my own thing or else just tune you out in general. I don't know why you are so fascinated with the guy but if you really want to involve yourself with such an a*****e then he's just down the road, maybe less then a mile away talking to a group of troops just outside of town. I'm staying here. Plus, you said you needed sleep so I figured I'd help you out. What's your decision?" Ryan finally asked as he leaned back and crossed one leg over the other with his legs outstretched and his arms now crossed for full comfortable relaxation.

[DaMaskedood]

┐

Ｖｉｃｔｏｒ
The first 'Burned Man'☣
'How bad you want it....?'

Victor was still kicking himself for foolishly carrying on the conversation with the two NCR troopers and their prisoner escort...the longer he stood speaking with them only increased his chances of the troopers seeing through his Veteran disguise and discovering who he truly was...and even if they didn't know that 'Veba' was one of the NCR's most wanted...(which was not as likely, as the NCR printed and posted several posters of their 'most wanted' in NCR outposts and towns all over the Mojave)..it was sure to be a crime, impersonating an NCR soldier, let alone a Veteran ranger...but as most NCR never see a Veteran's face, the only real way they would be able to know was if he said something wrong, there would be no way a true Veteran ranger, after all those years required to wear the famous
'black armor', would know practically everything about the NCR..but Victor would have to stick with the knowledge he had gathered up to when he served as a ranger.

Victor kept his stance causal, like he truly was a Veteran ranger, like he wasn't in fact, speaking with two men who would recive an extremely nice reward to put a bullet through his skull...well, anyone would, but any members of the NCR would be glorified and rewarded with equipment, a good amount of NCR bills...and..hell, there's a good chance they would get a pretty nice promotion as well.....good enough for them not to be babysitting prisoners..

He looked down to the prisoner..he wondered what he did...normally NCR would just dump convicts in a place like Primm...or simply shoot them...either he did something so crippling to the NCR that they decided to glorify his death, or he was of some importance to them and wanted him alive....but he certainly wasn't doing this voluntarily.

It was then one of the troopers started to speak, answering his....foolish...question. “We’re circling around to the Hoover Dam, but eventually we need to get to HELIOS one. This is that Brotherhood member we caught in Operation Sunburst. Lieutenant Boyd must have gotten tired of interrogating the Brotherhood member and sent up to reactivate HELIOS. I hear they aren’t having much luck.”

Victor was silent...HELIOS...certainly a very strong resource for anyone that could get their hands on it...so much so, it would severally influence whoever controlled it's overall control of this part of the wasteland...it was certainly something he didn't need certain officers in charge of...HELIOS was defiantly on his list.. hopefully he could manage to find a way to get it running how and who he wanted..it would take time...and if this prisoner was good enough to be kept alive and escorted across the Mojave...it seemed time was something he did not have.

Following each sentence the solider spoke to him, their prisoner spoke, contradicting it...even claiming to kill himself....the two troopers paid it no attention...he wasn't all that surprised really, NCR wasn't supposed to 'socialize' with their captives...though as soon as one of them showed the prisoner some kind of acknowledgement, all he did was dismiss it immediately...it was clear to see he desired no real confrontation.

It was then the solider turned back to him, and told him how they were to request troops back with them. This was something Victor simply could not do. He needed to get out, he needed to go over the papers in the envelope he was carrying...he'd have to come up with something to say to them..some kind of excuse.."Sorry, but I'm stationed at the dam...I need to bring back my unit from the fort..though I might mention your situation and send a few soliders there..." the man wanted his name....he could use Bodsinzki..but the man was both retired an dead...he needed to come up with something. "Ranger..." suddenly, he was cut of my a feminine voice behind him...he turned to see a young woman, Gunrunners, upon further inspection, who told them about his little hit not a half an hour ago....she even pointed out exact place he had fired the shot....Victor was certainly impressed...not many could do that...then again, she was a member of the Gunrunners...He took slight amusement in how the woman was ordering NCR troopers around...though it might have endangered her, if the troopers even thought about pulling their weapons on someone unarmed, Victor would take off their heads in a heartbeat..but this also provided the out he needed..quickly, he grabbed the prisoner by the shoulder, and forcefully pulled the man to him, giving him a heavy pat on the shoulder, he jerked his head in the direction of the Saloon "Best check it out and fill out a report....I'll spread the word once I get to the fort.. he nodded...NCR Veterans didn't usually command troopers, but they did outrank them...and in the field, in the absence of a commanding officer, he was the commanding officer...
OOC

Ｋｒｏｅ

'What's the count now.......68? 69?

└

[Toxic TruBlood]

████████ █████████ █████████ █████████ ████████ █████████

❥ Helena Rose Valentine ▬ ▬ ▬ ⊰

♪ "Those Who Slay Together Stay Together" ♪

❅┇⊰ X❝U l t r a L u x e K i l l e r ❣  ❞

❥ Helena stood, pulling her combat knife out of the body of Legion scout. It had been prudent to end his life so that word wouldn't reach Caesar that she was near Boulder City. Nobody needed to know her location. Especially the NCR. She wiped the blood off of the gleaming blade on her traveling cloak. She breathed, placing the knife back into it's sheath on her thigh. The NCR, too, had a bounty on her head. She pulled from her rucksack purified water and downed it all, keeping the bottle. It never did any good to be dehydrated out here in the desert.  

❥ She put her goggles over her eyes and continued walking through the Mojave. She didn't have a current objective. Helena was just wandering, searching anything that would give her the time of the day. The sun shone brightly above her, making her sweat even more. Was it possible to be this bored? Her nights were exhilarating though. She lived for the nights in the clubs on the New Vegas Strip, where she danced and flirted with handsome men. She was no slut or whore. She was simply the type of girl who used her beauty to her advantage. Information was quite as valuable as fresh water. Boulder City was coming up close. That pile of rubble was good for nothing. She would find nothing in there was worth finding. She didn't know why the NCR still held their position there. So what if a battle had happened. It was over. Done.  That didn't matter. What mattered was that the NCR had an outpost there. She'd been made their enemy about two years ago. She'd been framed for a crime she did not commit. They hadn't been able to catch the infamous nighttime assassin. They didn't know her alias, Lovelace, was in fact Helena herself. She lived a double life. Night and day.

❥ As she passed by the way into the city, her green eyes widened in fear as they zeroed into an NCR Veteran. He was accompanied by three others. Two NCR troopers and what looked like a captive. She stumbled slightly, distracted, before regaining her footing. This was the last thing she needed. Not a Veteran. No, no, no. He would without a doubt recognize her pretty face. NCR Veterans always memorized the faces on the Wanted posters.

❥ Helena swallowed, speeding up casually, or at least trying to. Most of her face was covered up though, so maybe even if the Vet did approach her, he wouldn't remember her. There was also a another woman there, scolding them apparently. Whatever was happening wasn't any of her buisness. Until, of course, she heard the words. They had been talking about HELIOS. The energy station. She'd been stationed there a couple of months before. She still had friends on the inside working in the facility. Despite the interesting words. Helena kept moving. 












ooc;; Meow.





Current Song::Quit While You're Ahead by The Word Alive 
Current Mood:: Bookworm

████████ █████████ █████████ █████████ ████████ █████████

[HyperElfie]

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Allen Faber
XXX• • •
XXXXX For the Brotherhood

Any dolt with half a brain
Can see that humankind has gone insane
To the point where I dont know if Ill upset the status quo
If I throw poison in the watermain.

Listen close to everybodys heart
And hear that breaking sound
Hopes and dreams are shattering apart
And crashing to the ground

The sudden intrusion by the gunrunner startled the two NCR. They were no expecting someone to be eavesdropping let alone reporting a murder. She stood accompanied by a dog and a small pack Brahmin. Speaking of which, the ranger also had a dog close by. A peculiar sight, but he dismissed it. Allen was able to see an assault carbine and a shotgun close by the woman’s hand, and who knew what else she had on her. She showed a great intelligence with artillery and guns, naming off the ballistics from just a blood spatter. Allen wouldn’t be surprised if she was packing a whole arsenal somewhere atop that Brahmin. The way the woman spoke with such assertiveness seemed to shock the troopers even more. A woman, a non-NCR woman at that, giving them orders, and a murder? The Brotherhood scribe craned his neck to get a better view of the saloon. He had to wipe the dust off his glasses a bit, but sure enough one side of the glass was stained red. Hm, must have happened right after they rolled into town. Pity, a distraction like that would have been perfect for an escape. Chaos, fear of a hidden sniper picking off NCR, it would be a great way to sneak off. Although he was beginning to feel a little disappointed in their timing, Allen enjoyed seeing Wyatt and Brewer struggle to digest this turn of events. They stared wide eyed at Vanessa looking as if they forgot how to formulate words. The look reminded him of when terminals broke down and…what was the old world term for it…freezes? Yes that was it. When the NCR’s brains chose to fire up again, the duo became suddenly antsy. Almost as if they’d never seen blood or anything of this caliber. They kept glancing to the Ranger for orders. Allen shook his head in dismay. By the look of the ranger’s body language, he didn’t seem at all interested in guiding a bunch of greenhorn soldiers, who had done nothing but work a cushy guard duty at McCarran the whole war.


"Well don't just stand there, get moving; I'm sure this ranger here would look after your prisoner while you verify that his brethren isn't lying dead in a dumpster as a ransacked corpse!" The woman barked, obviously frustrated by their incompetence.

“R-right.” Wyatt finally spoke up after making some vain attempts. “Er, Ranger could y-“


Before the privet even finished his statement, Allen felt the ranger’s gloved hand grip his shoulder. The man gave a strong pull dragging the scribe over to him. What is this? A game of pass the prisoner?! Allen in no way approved of being tossed around like a rag doll. However, he refrained from voicing any concerns. Seconds later Wyatt tossed a heavy duffle bag his way before following after the gunrunner to the dead body. Allen caught the bag with a strained ‘oomf’. This time he wanted to protest however the troopers had left before he could. Oh now he was the pack mule too? This whole trip was getting better and better. He struggled to situate the bag over his shoulder. Upon succeeding, Allen faced his new ‘guard’. The ranger appeared just as excited to be standing here as he did. His eyes fell upon the AMR strapped to the ranger’s back. Normal gun weaponry was not his forte, of course that didn’t mean he was completely lost when repairing one. Allen specialized in lasers, plasma, and displacer gloves favored by the Brotherhood, as well as any terminal or older world systems. However he was able to see one detail most people would have overlooked. The clip had some interesting writing imprinted on the bottom. Cocking his head to the side, Allen tried to get a better look. “.50MG Match round, high quality.” He muttered out loud. Hm, it was a little too high of quality of you asked him. Wasn’t the .50MG rounds expensive? The NCR is already a** deep in war debts, they couldn’t afford such ammunition. “I suppose they make sure to give their rangers the best.” Allen stated, again speaking his mind aloud. “Still…” He trailed off, leaving the ranger to react.

The ranger seemed to become a little on edge as he turned sharply. He took great care to make sure Allen could no longer see the rifle for further inspection. “You never did mention your name.” Allen added. This appeared to agitate the man more. He could see the ranger start to reach for his gun, resting his hand comfortably on the handle. “You know it is really odd you refer to Camp McCarran as ‘the fort’. I’ve never heard an NCR call it that.” The ranger’s hand was now gripping the gun. He had yet to pull it out, but the thought was probably crossing his mind. “You’re not a ranger. Are you?” Allen stated keeping his voice low. He could almost feel the alarm in the fake ranger’s movements. “Calm down. I’m not going to sound an alarm.” He held up the shackles around his wrists. “Captive remember? All I’d get is a free trip to HELIOS or a bullet in the back of my skull. The only way I could benefit from this is if you turn a blind eye and allow me to run. Then again, I couldn’t get very far. NCR territory is vast. Not to mention the other option is Legion. Those slavers don’t approve of the Brotherhood either. Unless...” Allen trailed off collecting his thoughts. This was risky business negotiating with a complete stranger to do a spur the moment escape attempt. Allen just hopes he could appeal to some rare shred of good nature. “Unless we could come to some sort of deal.”

[Amberlioness]

╔═══════════════╗
Vanessa "Noir" Evans
╚═══════════════╝
♦ Trader by Birth, Gunsmith by Occupation, Consultant by Popular Demand ♦


Vanessa could tell by the startled expressions on the troopers face that her appearance had unsettled the duo, which caused her to quirk an eyebrow in curiosity; they were soldiers for the NCR and by extension representatives of the government in New Vegas. Surely thier officers had explained that to them, as an occupying force they were required to keep the peace and investigate malicious behavior in the absence of law enforcement, which even in the best of times was scare in the wasteland but doubly scare in Boulder City as a result of its destruction and complete lack of utility for the military at present. A look at the prisoner at their feet told her that he was probably more intelligent then his escort, he at least responded to her information and seemed to appreciate her demonstrated knowledge, and while the Ranger's posture showed a similar acknowledgement, she couldn't be sure as a result of his helmet obscuring his face and preventing her ability to read his expression. For a moment it looked like the two soldiers were going apoplectic with indecision as they looked at the Ranger for guidance until his words to go check it out seemed to settle their nerves and prompt them to action.

While muffled by his helmet, the ranger's voice seemed to strike a note of recognition within her and it rather piqued her interest. Her frequent dealings with the NCR and the more seedy underworld of the Mojave had made her familiar with several players out here so it wasn't out of place for him to be a customer and she remembered her customers well. Which caused her to eye the ranger with a more critical eye, at casual glance he seemed fairly within the lines of what the preconceived notion of a ranger; stoic, aloof, and exuding an air of danger and mystique. But certain things seemed out of place, his attire for instance was different from his fellows but that could be put down to personal flair; however he didn't exude that air of moral rightness that often seemed to hang around a veteran ranger, men who were so morally attenuated north that they could do no wrong if the ends justified the means.

The prisoner seemed more talkative without his escort as he evaluated the ranger as well, pointing out his choice of munitions. '50 cal match grade rounds are pretty expensive but the NCR Rangers aren't just a hand of the republic, they're the remnant of the Mojave's capabilities and as such have the joint funding of the NCR and local sources that were accrued and developed prior to the union of those forces.' Vanessa thought to herself, of course it wasn't public information but since they had been a separate entity at some point it stood to reason that they had needed a method of supporting their forces.

The prisoner's accusations were issued in short order and the man's stiffening and agitated reaction could be interpreted in two ways; the one the captive was running with at this point was that he had presumed correctly but the opposite was equally viable. This could in fact be a veteran ranger and the prisoner's accusations were simply making him angry at being called out; after all these guys served twenty years as a ranger before they were made Veterans and earned their Sequoias, like the one sitting on his hip. She doubted he would fire at an unarmed prisoner but it wasn't impossible that a pistol whipping was in the imminent future for the bespectacled man as he plead his case.

Still, the ranger or faux-ranger as he could be, tickled her memory as her eyes moved to the back edge of the man's helmet to look at the name that was so often printed there and her eyes widened minutely at the name tag. Bodsinzki... the ranger who had retired to Boulder held that name and there was only one man she knew of who could take out a ranger, take his gear and manage to pass as one to some troopers. "Veba..." She said softly, barely audible as the voice and the information seemed to click in that moment.


"My job is to sell weapons, you can feed me all the lines you want to about moral and ethical obligations but quite frankly I don't care about that... what I do care about is that the guns shoot; because so long as they're shooting, someone is going to need to buy more bullets."

[DaMaskedood]

┐

Ｖｉｃｔｏｒ
The first 'Burned Man'☣
'How bad you want it....?'

Victor said nothing after he told then to go to the Saloon and confirm the Gunrunner's claim of an assassination. He only turned his head and nodded towards the direction of said Saloon... directing them to it...though it wasn't the ideal thing...pointing the to the exact thing he had spent months to do undiscovered by the NCR....of course not ultimately..blood was extremely difficult to wash off... especially on such a corroded surface as the Saloon's walls. That and the wasteland didn't exactly provide the right cleaning tools for it...hell, the only thing close to soap was an extract that came from a cactus-like desert plant that was rare for the Mojave...and most people, if not all, would rather use it to clean themselves than the blood of a dead man off of a wall....besides all that..all it would take would be one good dust storm to erode the blood from the wall....however they decided to deal with it though...it was certainly no concern of his..

Victor was simply focused on getting out, he had spotted the merchant O'Conner down the street...and he didn't look too happy to see Victor...he had a woman hanging from his shoulder, drunk most likely...more so one of those prostitutes so common in the wasteland...mostly on the strip...fitting in a way, in regards to money and clothes. Whatever it was, O'Conner was most certainly not his main concern...it seemed the merchant had decided to take Victor up on his offer and living in the dead Ranger's house....If those troopers ID'd the body, which they would, there were other means of identifying a veteran ranger...they would no doubt check on his home to retrieve his armor..perhaps not today, but Victor had been there, when a Veteran was killed, the NCR had a decorated service for them, burying them with their Sequoia...which of course they would not find, as it was in Victor's pack...the one at his side was the one he had taken from his partner from so many years ago...to him, it would always be his, the original.

Victor watched the two NCR troopers as they made their way to the spot that the Gunrunner woman so expressively pointed out to them..from where he stood, a keen eye could see the blood painting on the wall...even the small...well, not so small...trail of blood mixed in with the dust and dirt where the body was dragged. It had been removed long before Victor could go over it..the owners of the saloon decided a headless corpse lying in a pool of blood righ at the front entrance wasn't the best way to promote business..

A sudden movement from the corner of his vision suddenly caught Victor's attention. He turned his head to see yet another...well..what seemed to be a woman, guessing from the defined figure and choice of clothing, but he couldn't be completely sure...her face was covered up slightly...but what was odd to him, was the fact that it seemed like the woman was trying even more so to cover up her face...it made him suspicious...he knew just as well as anyone who did, there were only two reasons to cover your face in the Mojave, either to shield yourself from the dust and dirt, or because someone , somewhere, wanted you dead...for Victor, it was the latter...and since there was no dust storm, or even wind for that matter, Victor could only assume the same for that woman...she even looked like she was in a hurry...trying to get out of his sight as soon as she could..Victor stared at he woman, his head turning to follow her as she quickly made her way down the road..their eyes locked..the gaze of his helmet's lenses met with her worried stare..but he did nothing, said nothing...made no movements whatsoever to stop her...only to watch her..

The captive in his grip snapped him back to reality, “.50MG Match round, high quality.” he looked down..the man was reading off the caliber of the rifle on his back...he said nothing, only listened as he lifted his chin to eye the Gunrunner woman...who seemed to be studying him intently..it was then the captive began to put the pieces together. Slowly, he pulled back the duster, exposing the Sequoia on his side, resting his hand on it...a warning....that the man didn't seem to get...or did, and just wanted to continue to push him...when the man finally questioned the authenticity of his ranger position...a low, almost instinctive growl emitted from the mask he wore..it was muffled, and soften, hardly audible, but it was there. This was exactly why it was a stupid idea to carry on the conversation..the man explained how there was no reason for him be worried, but that didn't stop him from gripping his Sequoia tightly, even unclipping the strap that kept it in place...behind his mask, Victor scowled as the man decided to make a deal with him..he didn't need this, he could simply put a bullet between the man's eyes, then be gone before the two troopers even left the alley...he might have to kill the Gunrunner too...as much as he didn't want to, who's to say the NCR wouldn't interrogate her for the information? Not like the NCR would catch him, but they could have a log of his last location..which would only bring them closer..the last location they had on him was from two years ago...and he intended to make it three..he pulled the captive close to his mask "You have five seconds..." he growled quietly... he'd give the man five seconds to propose his 'deal'...every second that passed was now a second wasted...just then, the Gunrunner said something...something faint...was it? No....there was no way....did she? She did. Victor turned his head to look at her, lowering the man in his hands a bit...how did she?...of course...it was his own fault for being in a hurry..if he had adorned Bodzinski's armor as well, she probably would not have spotted him...how was this going to pan out? He didn't want to kill innocents...and the scribe would be useful when he took HELIOS...but he could not be captured...not when he was this close..he said nothing to the woman...only stared at her as he counted in his head....5.....4....

OOC Sorry about the late reply, when I hit backspace a bunch of times to correct a mistake, it sent me back a bunch of pages and I had to re-write it all..it isn't as long because I couldn't remember everything and I didn't want to keep you guys waiting. ><

Ｋｒｏｅ

'What's the count now.......68? 69?

└

[Toxic TruBlood]

████████ █████████ █████████ █████████ ████████ █████████

❥ Helena Rose Valentine ▬ ▬ ▬ ⊰

♪ "Those Who Slay Together Stay Together" ♪

❅┇⊰ X❝U l t r a L u x e K i l l e r ❣  ❞

❥ In those few seconds that her eyes locked with the Vet's, something passed between them. He knew she was "guilty" of something and Helena knew that this was, in fact, no Ranger. From her experience, Rangers would know who she was, even with her face partially covered. A few months ago, the NCR had dispatched a group of Rangers led by a Veteran to hunt her down and kill her. They almost nearly did. The only reason she had survived the attack was because they had lost the element of surprise on her. She had been tipped off by an old friend who was still in contact with her. She'd been waiting for them in some abandoned shack with a fully loaded Alien Blaster that she'd found and traps set up outside to handicap them. Only preparation had saved her life. As for that energy pistol, she sold it. It had ran out of energy cells after that battle.

❥ This man dressed in NCR Veteran combat armor wasn't who he portrayed. Helena could hear the conversation going on between the group as clear as day. Or perhaps not the conversation, but the body language. It implied the words she couldn't hear. Something that the captive had said made the man tense. The captive kept speaking even though it was obvious he should stop whatever he said. He gripped his Sequoia tightly, fingering the trigger. And her eyes flickered to the other woman. Her lips moved softly. She whispered a word that Helena couldn't hear and that was all it took for that body language to change. The only words she could describe it was clarity, surprise, maybe even a slight desperation to it.

❥ "Veba?" One of the troopers asked aloud, turning to the Veteran and staring closely at him. His eyes traveled to his cloak where the name Bodsinzki shown brightly in the sun. That man was a retired Veteran Ranger who resided in Boulder City. What was he doing back on active duty? "What-"

❥ Suddenly, just before the moment the pretend NCR Vet pulled his weapon out, a sharp gust of wind tore off her brown mask that covered her face. The creamy tan face of her's was revealed. "Hey!" The other trooper pointed at her, grabbing his gun from his belt. "It's that Valentine girl! The one who murdered General Stall! There's a poster of her in back in the city!"

❥ Helena froze, spinning to face the group, her green eyes widening. She would not be killed or captured, not today, not tomorrow, not ever. If she couldn't prove her innocence, despite her previous, prestigious reputation in the NCR, than she would take out anyone who threatened her. What would Uncle Albert say if she got caught? Nothing nice. He would be disappointed and his reputation would be tarnished at having a criminal for an adopted daughter/niece. If only she had stayed back the Ultra-Luxe for a few days longer during her visit. Things would have turned out differently. She wouldn't be in this situation.

❥ Yet, the girl did not move as the one trooper slowly approached her, his gun pointed at her. "Put your hands up nice and slow, before I put a bullet between your eyes." He commanded. Helena's eyes locked with the "Veteran". She conveyed her message to him silently. If he was going to do something, he better do it now while she had one of the troopers distracted. She raised her arms slowly as the trooper approached.













ooc;; I'll let you guys decide what happens lol I don't wanna control everything.





Current Song::Quit While You're Ahead by The Word Alive 
Current Mood:: Reality

████████ █████████ █████████ █████████ ████████ █████████

[Amberlioness]

╔═══════════════╗
Vanessa "Noir" Evans
╚═══════════════╝
♦ Trader by Birth, Gunsmith by Occupation, Consultant by Popular Demand ♦


'Well, I guess when it rains, it pours...' Vanessa thought to herself as the situation rapidly began to escalate; her occupation as a Gunrunner meant that she had to display some semblance of loyalty to the two troopers against their foes, but she wasn't exactly on the up and up. She was rather well known on the underground and black market rings as an unbiased arms trafficker and information broker; which meant that she could earn her self some favors here, with Veba being on the most wanted list of the NCR he had purchased from her before albeit this would be their first meeting without the safeguards of darkened rooms and disguises. It wasn't good business for a known Gunrunner to be dabbling in the black market for secondary income; as point of fact it was entirely criminal and highly compromising to the mercantile company if it was known that they're products were being supplied to their primary consumers opposition. So under the alias "Noir" the young woman had taken to providing certain nefarious or otherwise undesirable parties with information and arms to maintain the conflicts in the Mojave since it meant greater profits for the Gunrunners and by extension her commission.

But under the present circumstances there were only two green horn troopers, both of whom were woefully incompetent and would most likely not be overly lamented if they were discovered dead; and in exchange for their lives she would happily gain the favor of Veba, and the 'Duchess of the Ultra-Lux' Helena Valentine herself; which would be infinitely valuable to hold onto those debts. As an afterthought, she would also be gaining the gratitude of the captive, which while undetermined at this point, could be a boon or in the worst case scenario prove to be a tepid investment; as long as he could repay her in the future for the bullets she was about to lose then it would be an investment with return at least.

Having quickly weighed her options, the young woman drew her .45 Auto Pistol in a single fluid motion with a swiftness brought on by extensive rehearsal and practice. As the weight of the steel settled in her hand, her body formed a bladed stance that narrowed her torso and made her a smaller target while the sights of the gun settled on the empty air by Veba's shoulder. It would work to her advantage to appear to be on the troopers side at the moment to cast away suspicion from herself; looking over at the trooper who was addressing the wanted man disguised as a veteran ranger, she gave him a nod of encouragement that said she would back his play. As a Gunrunner, it would be implied that she was on his side and he would take her pledge at face value; she was also counting on her gender to prompt his protective nature. Most men in a threat situation would move to defend the female from harm, it wasn't always a sure thing but it trended towards a positive correlation with regards to young men and soldiers.

True to her knowledge, the soldier took first one and then a second step forward that put her effectively behind the 180 degree field of vision. And with the swiftness of an adder her point of aim shifted to the left, settling on the broad back of Helena's would-be captor; with a smooth and controlled squeeze the hammer of her pistol fell and caused the firing pin to strike the primer of the chambered cartridge. In a matter of nanoseconds, the primer ignited the gunpowder in the round and propelled the lead bullet through the barrel of the handgun, the grooves twisting the round so that as it exited the muzzle, the round would remain stable in flight. At a velocity of over one thousand feet per second, the 185 grain projectile slammed into the man's scapula with over six hundred pounds of energy, shattering bone and tearing through flesh before the bullet tore through his heart.

A second bullet slammed into the same region less than a second later as Vanessa recovered from the recoil and regained her point of aim. Arcing her aim over to the second trooper who was even then turning to see who the shooter was, her third bullet slammed into his temple; piercing through the less dense bone there and expanding through his brain matter before exiting the other side of his head and traveling out into the desert with a trail of bone and gore that hung in the air as a pink mist. The fourth bullet slammed into the dead man's jaw bone as his body jerked from the impact and traveled from the bottom of his head through to the top, ensuring his death and taking a piece of his scalp as the round passed through his cranium.

In less than six seconds, Vanessa had dispatched two soldiers with a level of precision and competence that would make most raiders blanch in jealousy, if not terror. She didn't take much pride or joy in the slayings but it was to her benefit and as such she could live with it and would probably sleep without issue in the evening. "An honor to see you again Veba, although I wish this encounter had been under better circumstances." Vanessa said in a tone that was calm and conversational as she lowered her pistol, carefully ejecting the half empty magazine and inserting a full one in its place before she holstered the weapon. Slipping the magazine into her back pocket she nodded at Helena, "A pleasure, Ms Valentine; and while it is remiss of me knowing your name while you do not know mine; you may simply call me Noir. Most everyone does anyhow."

Turning her gaze to the shackled man, Vanessa nodded her head in greeting but since she hadn't caught his name during the conversation she would not prompt him into giving it or an alias; but she would remember his face. "Well met, sir." she greeted him simply with a small smile, one that did not quite meet her eyes.


"My job is to sell weapons, you can feed me all the lines you want to about moral and ethical obligations but quite frankly I don't care about that... what I do care about is that the guns shoot; because so long as they're shooting, someone is going to need to buy more bullets."

[OrgasmicGebusCrust]

╔══════════════╗

Lydia "Gypsy" Daniels

╚══════════════╝

☆═━┈┈━═☆
Lucky am I ( → Vault Dweller E X Follower )
≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎
⋯⋯⋯ ⋯⋯⋯
≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎
⋯⋯⋯ ⋯⋯⋯≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎
⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ⋯ ≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎
⋯ ⋯⋯ ⋯
✚ ✚ ✚I'm the Stranger with the big The Big Iron on my hip

She allowed herself to be lead from the saloon, even if she was reluctant at first. She wasn’t one to be lead about by strangers. But then again, he was her partner, of sorts. So she basically consented to being led like a mule. Stumbling and hiccupping all the way until they were outside. The air was cooling, and it was a relief to the blonde’s skin, which prickled as the air hit it. Her gaze traveled around the place, watching the sunset, no doubt more beautiful with the radiation, and then let her gaze travel off into the distance, where some figures stood. There was a female, with some males (four ? They all were moving). But one in particular caught her eye….one that seemed in a Veteran uniform. She squinted her eyes to try and get a better look, but was to tired to try and focus. So she just let her gaze go back to the male. Whoever it was she had been gazing, well she would have to wait to see him the next day (most likely he would not be there when she did look). At any rate, she followed the male to a measly shack, and walked in, examining it.

The place was mainly bare, and definitely looking like no one had been here in some time, except for very little things (which could have been there for years). She watched as the male locked the door, and slid into a seat. She on the other hand leaned against a wall and watched him. Damn she wished he wouldn’t move. She was about to tell him when she thought better of it. He spoke, and she listened. “Ah, I see, wishing to keep this private? Like any one would care to hear. Most people could care less, unless you had people who were after you. I’m Lydia.” She paused and didn’t say a last name. Was it important? No. No one outside the vault, except for Boyd and Julie, and the King, really knew anything about her. Her past was nothing special. And this man, for now, needn’t know anything about it. Then what she had already hinted at. “Hm I do trade as well, but mainly am a Doctor. I patch people up, and help local Doctors with supplies.” She paused again and closed her eyes. She then snorted. “As for putting you in drama, well then that may happen. I can’t promise anything, for this is the Wastes, anything can happen. Who knows, teaming up may put us both in drama. My personal agenda is not your concern as of now. I need a s**t more to be able to accomplish that goal. For now I would like to just be your partner and gather supplies.” She then perked up, but then laughed. I don’t need him…not now. You do seriously need to relax. You are so tense. Maybe you need a woman’s touch?” She had began to make her way towards him, her eyes on him. “Just something to loosen you up, you know?” She had crossed the room and filled the gap between herself and him, and was now in front of him, leaning close, her face inches from his. “Maybe you need that special woman’s touch….” And that was when she closed her eyes, and fell onto him, now fast asleep. Some woman eh?

Out.Of.Counterspace.:

[Ghost Of The Celts]

╔════════════════╗
RYAN O'CONNOR
♦ Merchant & Scavenger ♦
╚════════════════╝

Listening and watching the female as she stood against the wall of the shack and caught eyes with him, Ryan didn't do much but simply sit there and listen to her talk the whole time, wondering when she would actually pass out from her tired state. Doing what he could honestly to stay awake himself, Ryan brought his hand to his mouth to cover a yawn and then went back to crossing his arms as the female finally introduced herself as Lydia and went on to describe her expectations and wants of him as a partner as far as what the two would be involving themselves in and what they would be getting into. Nodding his head then watching as she suddenly began to step forward towards him, Ryan took his sunglasses off and placed then on the table next to him as well as his combat helmet which soon was placed next to the sunglasses, raising an eyebrow at Lydia's sudden attractive words and not exactly knowing what to take of them. A small smirk was brought about his face as she leaned in closer, almost touching noses but knowing that it was too good to be true Ryan was already prepared for something to happen when finally, it happened.

Lydia closed her eyed and three seconds later found herself in Ryan's grasp, her lifeless-like sleeping slumber basically dead weight in his arms and her breathing loud and audible in his ear. Shaking his head and standing up as he made sure to hold onto Lydia safely, Ryan took her over to his bed which wasn't very big from the sight of it and laid her down, pulling the covers back first to make room then laid her body on the bed. Leaving her boots and everything on her so that she wouldn't wake up flipping out or missing anything, Ryan softly laid the sheet and blanket over her body and tucked Lydia in as he walked over to the sink in his little kitchen area and splashed cold water on his face to try and maintain staying up. If he was going to watch over Lydia and insure that she was safe, at least he knew the door was locked tight and he had his guns at the ready but as far as his attention level, it needed to be awake and alert. Shaking his head and placing the guns on his back softly and quietly on the small table next to him in front of his helmet and glasses, Ryan kept his shotgun in his hands and gripped two safe areas just in case he dozed off, closing his eyes only for a second and thinking about just what was going on outside and how he would have to make sure that Lydia was safe at all times. Even if it meant taking his own life.