The bar is cramped and smells like stale piss and sweat. Soft chatter under the jazz music and sultry singing voice from the beautiful women at the microphone. Her eyes drift over the patrons of the bar, most of them ghouls, the others are drifters looking tired and dirty, yet drunk happy, with rossy cheeks. Walking up to the bar she gets dirty looks, hushed rude mutters and some cat calls. She takes a seat at the bar, a Mr. Handy in a little bowler hat floats over. A smile crosses her face, cute. "You ordering something or just wasting my time?" He greets rudely with a thick Cockney accent, she loved this rude robot. "I'm looking for someone." She answers, but the robot turns away once she does. "Congratulations, join the rest of the chumps in the 'Wealth." "No, no. I mean in the bar. I'm looking for a MacCready." "Humff. Another low-life looking for that weasel, huh." His eyes bob towards her, narrowing. "He's in the back." "Great thanks, Botty, your my new favorite." She points at him with a grateful smile, making her way towards the 'VIP' room. "It's Charlie! Whitechapel Charlie! Oh whatever." He huffs after her, ultimately giving up. She walks down the hallway hearing light voices drift down it, a smooth, uncaring one catches her ear first. "I was wondering how long it would take your bloodhounds to track me down, Winlock." He taunts as she reaches the door way. Two broad shouldered men stood together, towering over another sitting in a chair. Even though she can't see his face, she knows it's him who had been talking. She pops her hip out to rest it and her shoulder on the door frame, deciding it was best to watch from afar, get involved if needed. "It's been almost three months... don't tell me you're getting rusty. Should we take this outside?" The man with buzzed red hair, who must have been Winlock holds up friendly hands, answering in a deep soothing voice. "It ain't like that. I'm just here to deliver a message." The man in the chair stands face poking between the other men's shoulders, a disturbed look on his face. "In case you forgot, I left the Gunners for good." She grins to herself, it looked like he was the little brother having a tantrum... wait, Gunner? "Yeah, I heard." Winlock scowls, at least that's what it looks like from her only seeing his profile. "But you're still taking jobs in the Commonwealth. That isn't going to work for us." The young man rolls his eyes. "I don't take orders from you..." his words hitch for a second when his eyes final spot her, but he shakes his head, focusing back on the brutes in front of him. "Not anymore. So why don't you take your girlfriend and walk out of here while you still can." She smirks, biting her bottom lip to subdue the urge to laugh. She liked this little brat already. The man next to Winlock clutches his fist, glancing over at his partner. "What?!" He spits. "Winlock, tell me we don't have to listen to this shit..." Winlock raises a hand, silencing him: much to the mans dismay. "Listen up, MacCready." He growls, MacCready focuses on fixing his green army type hat, making Winlock more angry, hissing out his next words. "The only reason we haven't filled your body full of bullets is that we don't want a war with Goodneighbor." He pokes a meaty finger into MacCready's chest, causing him to sway a little. "See, we respect other people's boundaries... we know how to play the game. It's something you never learned." A devilish grin marries MacCready's face, planting his hands on his hips with a proud stance. "Glad to have disappointed you." Winlock snickers. "You can play the tough guy all you want. But if we hear you're still operating inside Gunner territory, all bets are off. You got that?" "You finished?" MacCready snaps, falling back into his chair. "Yeah... we're finished. Come on, Barnes." They turn heading her way for the door, Winlock giving her a warning look as Barnes shots daggers. She steps aside, putting a foot behind the other, doing a half curtsy, half bow, gesturing towards the door. "Ladies." She coos, with a sickening sweet smile. "Why you little..." "Barnes." Winlock snaps, making him stop from turning on heel to punch her face in. "Yeah keep on walking bitch." She whispers loud enough to be heard. Barnes muscles tighten, but walks on behind Winlock. She glances towards MacCready who now had a bottle of moonshine in hand, and takes a decent sip from it; all he was missing was a cigar and he'd be a perfect grumpy old man. "Look, lady. If you're preaching about the Atom, or looking for a friend, you've got the wrong guy. If you need a hired gun... then maybe we can talk." She lets out a small laugh, grabbing the arm chair opposite of him pushing it close. She jumps into the seat, sitting cross legged. MacCready straightens, and shifts uncomfortably in his chair, taking another swing of his bottle. "I wouldn't say I'm very religious." She leans forward, resting her cheeks on the palm of her hands and elbows on her knees. "And friends are over rated. I'm looking for hire. But first, why don't you tell me who those guys were." He sighs setting his bottle down, crossing one of his lanky legs over the other. "A couple of morons looking to climb the ladder of success by stepping on everybody else on the way up." He points a long finger upwards with his words. "You shouldn't be surprised though, that's how it goes when you run with the Gunners." "Hmm. Sounds like you can handle yourself, but I worry about those guys throwing a wrench in the works." He scoffs, straitening his hat again. "If you're worried about Winlock and Barnes, don't be. They couldn't kill a squirrel with a rocket launcher." They both give out a giggle at the thought, but MacCready's smile fades right away, trying to be all 'business'. He gives her a weird look. "Now what about you? How do I know I won't end up with a bullet in my back?" "You can't. All I can give you is my word.. and a bunch of caps.. my aim is really bad though so no promises." He lets out a hit of a grin. "Bunch of caps, huh? Okay, hotshot. Price is 250 caps... up front. And there's no room for bargaining." She stares at him wide eyed. She was joking about the 'bunch of caps' line. "Your fucking with me?" She laughs, but his stony gaze turns her to a more serious tone. "Everything's negotiable, sweetheart. Would you take 200?" She bats her eyelashes at him, a slight pink colour raises to his neck. He takes a minute to ponder the request. "You drive a hard bargain, but you just bought yourself an extra gun. All right, boss... let's get out of here." "Ooo. I like the sound of boss. I'll explain what's happening on our way out." She stands, placing the chair to its rightful place, and turns to meet MacCready at the door, who now had a sniper rifle strapped to his back and booze bottle hanging loosely between his fingers. "Bye, Charlie! Thank you!" She waves wildly as she coos to the robot across the bar, he ignores her. "You two friends, huh?" MacCready jokes behind her. "Oh yes definitely." She chuckles bouncing up the stairs. "If he could flip me off he would have." He lets out a boyish giggle as he swings open one of the doors as she grabs the other. The smell of stale booze, blood and trash fill her nose, making her stomach turn, the burning sun scratching at her face. "Nothing says welcome like urine soaked garbage." MacCready chimes, putting his hand to his nose to mask some of the smell. "No worse than the bar." "At least the bar had booze." She shields the sun from her eyes taking in her surroundings, it was mid-day and this time of year the sun sets at six sharp, it would take three days time to get back to sanctuary and with the sun setting earlier than usual it would be better to do something close by than try to make it home. "So what's the plan, Boss?" "Oh I was joking about the 'Boss' thing; call me Sole." He gives her an odd look but only shrugs his shoulders. "As for the plan, it's too late to make it back to any of my settlements so I have a job we can do. It should be quick and easy, with good pay." "Sounds fun." He says dryly. "What is it?" "A little job for the Mayor. He wants me to check out Pickmans gallery." MacCready gives her a wide-eyed stare, and she can see the gears in his head turning. "Pickman's? No, no, no. That place is bad news." She smiles innocently up at him, giving a soft punch to his shoulder. "Oh, come on it will be fun!" She gives a cheeky smile and skips ahead of him to the exit of Goodneighbor. "Unless your too scared." MacCready mumbles to himself and stomps over meeting her at the door. "Fine, but at the first hint of trouble we leave." She waves her hand absent mindedly at him, she hears a huff but ignores him, how bad could it possible be? It's just a gallery.
