The device felt cold and clumsy, unfamiliar, as she turned it this way and that in her leather gloved hands. Even in the dim light she could make out the small red flashing button that blinked on and off in the corner, watched idly as the gears that were just barely visible rotated along the sides. "How you are going to get me into Tempany Tower, I have no fucking idea," she muttered under her breath. "But anything is better than wasting away out there in the heat."

Her footsteps were audible, echoing endlessly off of the concrete walls that dwarfed her on either side as she made her way through the tunnel system buried beneath the Tower in question. A gentle breeze occasionally caressed her molted cheeks, rustled the soft tawny fabric of her hood hinting at the overall structural integrity. "Or lack thereof." Her voice had the eminence of gravel with a lilt of a tinny quality dancing underneath. It wasn't uncommon for ghouls to sound as if they were chain smokers, but the extra added flavor of metallic undertones made her unique. Whether or not that uniqueness was a blessing or a curse was still up for some serious debate. She still wasn't quite sure herself.

Somewhere in the distance she could make out the distinguishable sound of water dripping, splashing without a care into a puddle out of eye shot. The scurrying of fuck knows what accompanied the tune, setting her teeth on edge, making her hair stand on end. You would think that, after a century of living in the Wasteland, one would become accustomed to the shit that goes bump in the night (or, in this case, in the 'subway') but that is where you would be wrong. That hundred years of experience did nothing but reassure her that staying on your toes is what kept you alive and that dismissing anything and everything resulted in nothing more than your inevitable end.

And, likely, not a quick nor painless end either.

So, yeah, she was going to remain cautious. She had already cheated death more times than she could count… and everything up until this point would all amount to flipping diddly squat if she ended up adding to the tally by falling to some feral ghoul or molerat. How pathetic would that be?

Answer: pretty pathetic.

She felt a sense of reassurance as she equipped the pistol from its holster on her hip. It felt solid, it grounded her, engulfed her with a petty fake lie of protection as she made her way deeper into the tunnel. If she was being one hundred percent honest, she knew the gun would do little against bigger foes such as deathclaws or yao guai… but, seeing as it was quite literally the only weapon she had at her disposal, it wasn't as if she was chalk full of options at this point.

"Fucking Moira Brown, fucking 'It won't be that bad, it's just some robots, and it's just a quick installation'." She rolled her silver laced eyes though the action held no humor. "Yeah, right. You'd think you'd learn the first few times she sent you on a suicide run, but nope, dumb ass, you kept falling for it. Idiot. Anything for the caps, right?" Stupid, complete and utter stupidity, at its finest, practically legendary.

"And now where are you?" she continued, speaking to herself since there clearly wasn't anyone else to share the conversation with. "Some freaky ass, spooky as hell subway system trying to find a way into Tempany Tower, the last place a ghoul such as yourself should go. But, oh, that's right! We are fresh out of alternatives since the doctors at Rivet City aren't ever gonna see you since the jackass guards aren't going to let you in, no matter how much you pay them." Finally, in a mocking tone, she added, "Damn ghoul, your kind ain't allowed here." With a snort, "What else is new?"

But her wounds were serious. Though, Moira had been correct that getting into RobCo Facility would be a cinch, that was where easy mode ended. Upon installation of the processor widget, all the robots in the building decided she was suddenly the bane of their existence. Guess that was what 'Total Liquidation' meant – as in, liquidation of every fucking thing in sight (including her, in case that bit wasn't crystal clear). Sure, the radroaches and molerats were also incorporated into that count but they were nothing more than irritating pests when compared to the laser shooting, pincher wielding, saw carving components of the automatons that wanted to melt her face off.

Now she was decorated with a variety of purplish bluish bruises, and her fair share of 'no biggy' to 'oh shit that's not good' sized lacerations and cuts. In short, she wasn't doing too hot. In long, she needed a doctor and she needed one fast. Stimpacks and Med-X weren't gonna do jack for this.

However, the front gate was out of the question – she would be turned away without a second glance regardless of her condition. So, when a wondering fellow ghoul tossed the little device she now carried in her general direction with a "That will get ya in the back door", how could she refused? "Then again, now that I'm really thinking about it, like really-really-REALLY, I'm realizing that maybe I had been just a tiny bit too lucky. As in, too good to be true."

And that scurrying sound behind her wasn't doing anything to make her feel comfortable.

As she rounded another bend in the path, being careful to hop over some fallen debris from the rail car that hadn't been used in centuries, she saw salvation ahead…. Well, salvation with a dark sense of humor tucked away. Sure enough, a door greeted her, a door she assumed was the 'back door' her ghoul buddy had mentioned. But it looked hella locked, super-duper fortified, and she highly doubted how effective simply knocking and kindly asking if she could come in would be.

Spoiler alert – that wouldn't work. Not now, not ever.

"That where you come in, little guy?" she asked the thing in her left hand. "Not sure how you work though." She closed the distance to the door, skimming her palm along the very obviously steel surface. "Don't want anyone sneaking in, huh, Mr. Tempany?" she cooed. "Specially not a lil ol' ghoul like me?" Oh, it was going to be fun bursting his bubble.

Glancing down at the device once more she flipped it over so she could peer at the back. The combinations of compartments and wire bits made her head hurt and she couldn't even begin to figure out how it worked… But then again, science and techy-techy bull shit had never been her forte, no point in starting now. "He said to just put it on the door… Sounds hinky to me buuuut…" We covered the 'options' bit already (ie. none). So… "Here goes nothing."

Dong as she had been instructed, she pressed the back against the paneling, crossing the synthetic fingers on her right hand for shits and giggles.

One second went by… two… three…

Nothing.

All it did was continue to spin, the gears rotating lackadaisically without a fucking care in the world.

"You piece of sh-!"

The device clicked, humming as it powered up. "Oh, maybe I take it back."

The door still wasn't budging, not even a little. Perhaps it took time? Perhaps this was one of those things you had to be patient for? Right, because she had shloads of that just waiting to be utilized. She scoffed.

And it seems she wasn't the only one who was done with waiting.

The scurrying grew louder, capturing her full attention. She pivoted on her heels, pistol raising as she shoved the barrel in the direction of the sound. "You done tip toeing around me?" she asked the dark void that stretched out back towards the way she had come. Not like she was going to actually get an answer but, ya never know. Worth a shot. No pun intended.

The ground broke at her feet as two fleshy colored molerats erupted from beneath the surface, jaws snapping and teeth pointed, glistening in the soft glow of the lamp above her head. "Seriously? I'm this close and this is what I have to deal with? These fuckers?" She groaned inwardly and lowered her arms, the pistol limp at her side. Not even worth the bullets.

That was the thing about molerats – they sure put on one hell of a show, a great display of fearless power as they snarled and gurgled and swat with their little tiny arms and swished their tails… but, for real? They were molerats, and they died like molerats.

Which meant this would be inanely easy.

As one of the little shits moved to lunge at her, she swung her foot back… and slammed it forward, careening the tip of her steel-toed workers boot into the gut of the molerat that had been foolish enough to launch an all-out attack on her. It shrieked in protest before skittering down the corridor and out of sight. "Ooooh, so scary. I'm quaking in my boots," she snarled as the second rat targeted her... only to meet the same fate as his friend (side note, do molerats even have friends? Co-worker, maybe? Tunnel mate? Whatever, what the fucking ever).

She rubbed the space between her brows with a dirtied finger. "Well, okay then. Thanks boys. Been real fun. Don't come back." Scratching behind her ear, she swayed on her hip, repositioning her weight as she glanced over her shoulder. Door? Progress? "Nothing. Swell."

Hefting her pack from her shoulders, she deposited the sack against the cement wall beside the door, kneeling down to unzip it. "It's alright, I got time. I've got plenty of time, trust me on that. More time than you do, door. Not that you could care since, you know, you aren't real. Big shocker. But seeing as we are now partners in crime, you and I, might as well get cozy with one another." She plopped down to the ground, resting her back against the paneling, rolling her shoulders to work out some of the tender muscles. Unwrapping the pack of Fancy Lad Cakes, she popped one into her mouth, chewed, and swallowed before continuing. "And we are partners in crime, mind you. Breaking and entering, that's punishable in some places here. I found that out personally. Sure, I'm the one that's doing the breaking but you're just chilling there, allowing me to enter. So really, when you look at it that way, who is the one to truly blame?"

Talking to herself had become a bad habit, and one that was proving ridiculously tricky to break. Granted, when no one else in the shit hole known as the D.C Wasteland would bother to even offer a sideways glance in your vicinity, you had to do something to prevent sheer insanity from taking over.

"Or, just maybe, I'm already there and don't know it yet. You think you would know if you were crazy?"

The door didn't respond. Typical.

"Yeah, that's what I thought too."

She allowed the silence to consume her as she slouched, dragging her knees up till they were propped in front of her, head lolled back against the metal. It felt cool on her heat-roasted skin. Some people thought that ghouls had a natural resistance to the sun and its incessant need to scorch anyone caught in its mighty rays. They were wrong. Like polar opposite end of the scale from right.

Her silvery eyes closed briefly, nose flaring from underneath the black cloth she used to cover her face as she drank in the smells of the subway tunnel. It smelled heavily of mildew and mold, of moisture and residue. Every surface she touched had a layer of slime, a layer of shit she didn't really want to question where it came from or what caused it. Some things were better left in the 'unknown' category, and this was certainly one of them. Still, this place was better than some of the others she had been in. As far as she knew, the subway was at least devoid of cannibals, so that was a major plus.

She wasn't really in the mood for running away from people who literally ate other people. Been there, done that, bucket list got a check mark. Didn't ever, repeat EVER, need to go through that adventure again. So much nope that she was riding the Hell Naw train to Fuck-That-Vill. No.

Something moved down the path, pulling her out of her headspace. "Back for more?" she bit out around a mouthful of cake and frosting. "Didn't learn your lesson last time? Need another round of education? Professor Ellie, open for business, ass-wipes."

Pressing her fingertips against the grimy ledge, she pushed herself up into a standing position, depositing her partially eaten sweet treat inside the lip of her bag. "I'll come back for you, don't you worry," she promised, rubbing the sticky crumbs on her cargo pant leg. She snatched her discarded pistol, and double checked that the cartridge was full. It wasn't. But that's what miracles are for, right? One of these days, she would have more bullets than she knew what to do with.

Today just wasn't that day.

The sound grew closer as the little beasties inched nearer. "Hope you brought more pals this time," she snarled, taking a few steps away from the door as the device continued to work. Seriously, did it have to communicate to the mother-ship before processing anything? Had the ghoul given her a dud? What the fucking hell?

"At least I can kill a few more molerats to pass the time," she mused.

Or, well, that would have been the case if the sounds belonged to molerats.

They didn't.

Not even close.

Like, not even in the same family of disgusting enemy 'close'.

What she saw instead made her blood run cold, her heart rate accelerate to dangerous levels, and her breath lodge in her throat as she sucked an inhale of air in between her teeth.

"You aren't a molerat," she whispered, arms faltering as they lowered in the slightest, the gun point no longer zeroed in on her target.

Which was poor aiming mechanics…

Not the point.

Clawing its way out of the shadows was a centaur, hands groping blindly for holds as it dragged itself into the illuminating circle of light. Its jaws gaped open, tentacles spewing from within to taste the air, to savor the tang of her fear and adrenaline as they poured in unison through her veins. Its body was a mess of parts and pieces, making it difficult to distinguish where one body started and the next began. Each step made her gut wrench, her legs tremble; each sluggish maneuver in her direction made her cringe away.

Acid oozed from its parted mandibles, pooling around the centaur as its beady eyes snapped towards her own. It blinked, mindlessly, head tilting from side to side as it observed her. Shit, fuck, hot cakes, Christmas cookies, get me out of here!

Centaur's themselves weren't a huge threat, not really. But… they weren't the ones you had to watch out for. See, they never traveled alone. Usually they worked on the buddy system… where the buddy could be either another centaur… or worse, a supermutant. And due to the lovely little well-known fact that her current health condition was piss-poor at best and outright unmaintainable at worst, now was not the time for any sort of super-mutie trouble.

Fuck no.

"Shit, you better open soon!" she begged the door, throwing a glance over her shoulder. "I take back all the nasty comments about us being partners. I'll take the blame, all of it, just open! Please!" she couldn't hide the frantic tone in her voice, couldn't conceal the sheer terror that spiked through her core.

If this door… If this door didn't open…

She would be royally screwed.

She was as good as dead.