Drinking Friends

Halfway through her third beer, Marie realizes that she isn't even tipsy yet. With a resigned sigh she sets her bottle down and hangs her head. She discovered a year ago that her immunity to radiation caries over into poisons as well. The discovery was made when she slipped up and a radscorpion got close enough to her to use its stinger. The puncture wound hurt, but the venom never took affect. Months lather she found that her immunity to poison included alcohol as well. It still works to numb the pain in her wounds, but no getting drunk. Not for her. As a result of her her inability to become intoxicated, she became something of a connoisseur. If stuff tastes good, looks appetizing, and does not cause sever headaches, then she is all over it.

The stuff they are selling her in the Saloon is trash. It comes in old pre-war beer bottles, but she can tell from the smell and the taste that the bottles are just for show. This beer is actually moonshine. Likely brewed out back someplace secret and away from the public eye so Moriarty can sell it as the real stuff and make a little extra. It tastes bad the first time, and leave a foul aftertaste as well. Like it wants to make sure you know you drank it, even hours after having taken your last sip. Marie is already regretting that she has had almost three bottles.

At least being here offers the chance to observe more of the tows people's attitudes. The other patrons have given her a great insight into the daily lives of the Megaton settlers. Take Billy Creel. She remembers that he used to take her with him outside the walls when he traded with the caravans. He had a little girl named Maggie who he was raising at the time. The popular belief was that Billy killed Maggie's parents and raised her himself. Most like to think that he did it because the girls parents were terrible people, but others were not so sure. Marie used to play with Maggie, even though the girl was considerably older than herself, but they were some of the only children around at the time.

Right now Billy is doing what he always used to do at this time. Drinking his memories away glass by glass. Billy is a tortured soul with a shady past. What little Marie learned about him is mostly forgotten now, but even she remembers how hard he tries to be nice to everyone. The man was not suited to raise a daughter, but he is probably better than whoever Maggie's real parents were. Despite years having passed, and more lines having appeared on Billy's face, the man does not seem to have changed very much. It only adds to her theory that these people are complacent. It makes her sad really. People like Billy were the sort she had hoped would keep the rest of the settlers in line. People who are tough, and remember what it was like outside the walls of Megaton. People who could remind the others that death is always waiting just outside the door. People like Jericho.

Speaking of, she has yet to see the old mercenary. She was afraid of him when she was little. He always wore his armor, and always carried his gun no matter where he was going. She used to think it was because he wanted to intimidate the people around him. She knows better now. You learn to keep your things within reach while out in the wastes. The moment you set down your rifle, or take off your armor, that is when shit will hit the fan. Paranoia are is a wastelander's friend and ally. Now she knows that Jericho kept his thing on him because it was habit. Because he couldn't stand to be without them. It is a lot like how she feels now.

It is strange that she has not seen him. The crowd that gawked at her not minutes ago included most of the towns residents, and a scene like that isn't something easy to miss. The fact that she did not see him there, and does not see him now in the bar leaves three possibilities. He is dead, he left, or he is hiding in his home. The later of the three she knows to be the least likely. The man never shied away from combat, and always made enemies wherever he went, so chances are strong that he is indeed dead. A shame. Even though he was mean to her, she knows now that people like him are necessary to keep settlements on their toes.

Deciding that she has lingered her long enough, she stands and makes her way to the counter to pay for her drinks. The ghoul bartender, Gob, straightens up as she approaches and sets aside the class he was cleaning with a rag. Once she thought he cleaned the glasses all the time because he thought they were dirty. Now she realizes that it is to keep Moriarty from snapping at him for being lazy. Leaving more caps than the drinks were worth, she tells Gob to keep the change and leaves. Hopefully tempers will have cooled off from her earlier spat with Lucas Simms and it will be safe to walk around. Not that any of these people are a threat to her. Most of them don't even have proper weapons. She just wants to avoid further attention grabbing. The argument at the Lantern, while beneficial in the end, was not part of her original plan. Get in, look around, reminisce, and then get out before people start asking questions.

Once outside the Saloon she leans against the guard rail of the cities catwalk. Her eyes sweep over the town below. Strange how it all seems so much smaller than she remembers. She stays there until the sky is colored red and orange by the setting sun. Then she makes her way down the ramps towards Craterside Supply.

Moira Brown used to close her shop every day when the sun goes down. Hopefully most people will be heading home and no one else will be shopping when Marie arrives. She knows from experience that Moira can't refuse a customer who arrives just before closing time. She used to test it nearly every day. She hesitates outside the store for a moment, wondering if that was something Moira only did for her because she felt bad for her. With a shake of her head she pushes the door open and steps inside.

The interior is very well lighted with bulbs hanging from the ceiling. There is a man Marie does not recognize standing near a shelf full of supplies. The guard is giving her a wary look and his hand is resting on the grip of a large pistol. Moira herself is sweeping the floor in the center of the shop. She looks up in confusion as the guard grunts and points towards Marie. The bubbly shopkeeper squints in Marie's direction before seeming to notice that she is there. "Oh, a customer? Well come in. Cutting it a little close, but I can spare you a few minutes."

Moira shuffles over to stand behind the shops counter. Marie watches the woman's gait and notices a slight limp and the way she holds a hand to her back. The woman's movements are stiff and her once vibrant red hair is now streaked with a lot of grey. Her face is deeply lined and now that she is closer, Marie can see a hazy film over Moira's eyes. All in all the woman is barely recognizable from the Moira she remembers. "How can I help you today? Just ignore that odor, it is perfectly safe to breath... I think." Despite the obvious aging, it is still Moira.

Still, Marie can't help but think the woman should look better. When she saw Simms earlier, he didn't look that much older, and he was old when she left. She decides to take yet another gamble. "Hi there, I came through her some years ago with some traders. I remember coming in here once or twice. I have to say, the town looks like you lot have fallen on some rough times."

Moira sighs heavily. "Yeah, things haven't been that good around here. The Brotherhood of Steel has moved in and declared martial law. Or that is what they called it years ago. Now it is just law. They patrol the roads, keeping the raiders and supermutants down, but they also enforce harsh penalties on those who break their rules. There are a lot of people around who are used to much more freedom than the Order is willing to give them. Some of the further settlements have actually rebelled. Tensions are high, very high. Not to mention the rumors of dissent among their ranks." She lets out another sigh. "Oh but enough with the dreary. What can I do you for?"

Quickly Marie rattles off a short list of basic supplies. .45 ammunition for her pistol. A new whetstone for her Kukri's. A few stimpacks, and some food items. As she slides the supplies into her pack, Moira notices the unique blades at Marie's hip. "If you don't mind, I would like to take a look at those machetes of yours."

Marie unsheaths the two inwardly curved blades and places them down on the counter. "They are called Kukri. I found them in a museum I once took shelter in. They ones I found were too old for much use, but I found a smith in a more populated area who made the two you have there for the old ones."

Moira turns one of the weapons over in her hand, carefully running a thumb down the flat of the blade. "Excellent craftsmanship. The one who made these knew what they were doing and must have had some very good tools." She flicks a finger over one of the edges and a frown crosses her face. "It isn't as sharp as I would have thought it to be."

With a shake of her head Marie explains, "You don't want a razor sharp edge on a weapon used for hacking. It dents and nicks to easily. You want it to be sharp, but not that sharp. At least that is what the smith told me when he made them." She takes the other Kukri and gives it a quick spin. "The shape allows for good movement. It can be used both as a weapon and as a tool."

The shopkeeper takes a few more moments to examine the weapon, probably committing the design to memory through touch so she can recreate it later, and the hands them both back. "If that is all you need, we can discuss a price." Finally, Marie thinks as she pulls her bag of caps out of her pack, someone who has some priorities. The two women haggle back and forth for a few minutes before deciding on a price. Marie counts out the caps and shoulders her pack. "Nice doing business with you."

As she makes for the door Moira speaks. "I remember everyone who comes through my shop." Marie stops but does not turn. Fear that she may have blown her cover races through her. "You remind me of someone from long ago, but you look nothing like him." Him? Who is him? Her curiosity is suddenly peaked. "He was something to behold." Moira is mostly speaking to herself now. "He and his band disarmed the nuke in the center of the the town and dealt with the man who put the job out there in the first place. A lot of people looked down on them because they were mercenaries, but they always dealt fairly with me. Never gave me any trouble. They gave off the same feel as you do. Confident, strong, capable, but with something to hide."

Moira keeps speaking, but Marie doesn't hear any more. She is already out the door. That story. It stuck a cord in her memories. She feels like she has heard it before. Without thinking she finds herself hurrying across the catwalks towards Lucy's house. She reaches the door and only when the handle in in her grasp does she stop. She looks up at the small shack.

The surface of the outer walls are just as she remembers. Slowly she reaches out and finds the small hole she put there by accident. It was when she first used a firearm. Lucy had disapproved of her learning how to shoot, but Jericho and Lucas Simms had insisted. She misfired and put a hole right through the wall. As she extends her fingers outwards, she encounters a lump. There is a sheet of metal welded over where the hole once was. Strangely it hurts her that it has been fixed. It shouldn't, why would anyone want to live with a hole in their walls, but it still makes her sad. She is about to step away and forget about it, when a voice from behind causes her to jump. "Can I help you lass?"

She turns, a hand going behind her back to where her Kukri are strapped. She does not recognize the man standing there. He is young, maybe in his mid twenties. Maybe around the same age as her. He has long, wavy auburn hair and a short well trimmed beard. He is wearing a sleeveless vest that shows off his tanned and muscular arms. Strangely enough his arms are covered in tattoos. Having ink is usually the sign of someone who was once a raider, tribal, or is very brave. The process of getting ink in the wasteland runs a very high risk for infection. Professional surgeons can be found, but they are very rare and expensive. His eyes are light brown and while his body language is relaxed, she can tell from the look in his eyes that he is assessing her for danger. She watches as he notes her hand behind her back and takes a small step backwards. It is then that she notices his arms are full with various boxes and bags of scrap metal.

"Sorry," she mutters, stepping to the side, "I was just hoping to talk to Lucy, but I don't think she is home."

The man lifts an eyebrow. "If you are talking about the woman who owned this house before me then yeah, I would say she isn't here any more." Lucy moved? Marie looks back at the hose and feels her heart sink a little. She wasn't really sure if she was even going to speak with Lucy while she was in Megaton, or if Lucy would even want to see her, but the fact that she isn't here at all upsets her. "She moved back in with her family in Arefu. It was maybe five years ago. Good timing for me."

He shifts some of the packages in his arms and looks at her again. "If you wouldn't mind opening the door for me, I kind of have me hands full here."

"Oh, sure." she opens the door and lets him through. It is surprising to find someone who is so inviting.

"You can come in if ya want. Take a seat and I can get you some water or something." Again, very inviting. Marie enters the house and looks around. The inside is much as she remembers, only smaller. There are a lot of boxes filled with scrap and all sorts of other things lying all around. She also notices an inactive Mr. Handy folded up in the corner next to one of those assaultrons. "Make ya self at home. Just move some of the boxes if ya have to." Marie places one box on the floor and sits down in an old iron chair. The man walks back into the room with two cans of recently opened water. He tosses one to her and she catches it easily. "Name is Rudy by the way. What's yours?"

It occurs to Marie that she has yet to give anyone in this town a name yet. She picks one from her list. "Tessa."

Rudy sits down on a pile of boxes and opens one of the packages he brought in with him. "Well, Tessa, welcome to me humble abode. So tell me, why you looking for Miss Lucy? Far as I knew she was something of a loner before moving away."

Marie comes up with as good a cover story as she can manage. "I used to run with a group of traders who did business here on occasion. I met a guy in a new settlement who wanted a messaged delivered to her. Said he hadn't been in contact with her for years. Since I knew the way, I was the obvious choice for the job. Seems Things are a little more complicated than what I was lead to expect."

Rudy rubs his chin idly, his beard rustling slightly. "Well, I can give you directions to Arefu, but I can't tell you were exactly Miss Lucy is staying. I've never been to that particular settlement. I spend most of my time here these days. Only met Miss Lucy the one time, and that was when she was selling the place. Seemed sort'a desperate though. Maybe she was in some sort of trouble."

A pit grows in Marie's stomach. If Lucy is in danger, then she has to know. She stands, "Thank you for the hospitality Rudy, It is appreciated and rare, but I must be going." She heads for the door.

"Ya know I don't believe a word of it." she stops and looks back at him, ready to play dumb, until she sees the pump-action shotgun that has somehow materialized in Rudy's lap. "You carry yourself more like a mercenary than a trader. Your gear speaks of combat, and your weapons have been used many times. Your reaction at the door tells me that you are quick, and alert for potential danger. The way you snatched that water out of the air says you have quick reflexes. You try to hide it, but also show enough to make people stay away. You are dangerous. And you are more involved with Miss Lucy than you want to say."

Suddenly the man seems much more dangerous. She faces him, but takes a few steps backwards towards the door. "Listen, I only came here on a whim. I wasn't even going to actually talk to Lucy. I just wanted to look around was all."

Rudy stands, holding the shotgun in one hand and approaches slowly. His accent from before is gone and his voice is devoid of tone. "Now If I believed that, how much of a fool would you think me to be?" He stops a few paces from her and lowers the gun slightly. "I don't want to hurt you, but If you try anything I most certainly won't think twice. I saw that little fiasco you put on yesterday down at the Lantern. Now you seem to have a totally different personality. So, who are you really and why are you here?"

Marie thinks quickly. She wonders how much of a lie she can get away with. How much truth she will have to use to convince him. She decides she can tell him some of the truth, just not all of it. "Okay, I used to live here when I was little. Never knew my parents, but Lucy was like a mother to me. Some years ago I ran off on my own and this is my first time back since. I just wanted to look around and see what has changed, if anything has. I wasn't expecting so much to be different. I came over here because I wanted to talk to Lucy about the people who brought me here." As she says it she realizes that is the real reason she came back to Megaton. To get some answers."

Rudy keeps his gaze locked onto hers. He is intimidating. They way he doesn't blink. Not to mention the way he makes her feel like she is on trial for something. Finally he lowers the gun. "Fair enough. I don't think you are telling me everything, but there is not reason to not believe you." His accent is back and he appears to relax. Marie lets out pent up breath of air. "That said I will be coming with ya."

"What?" She narrows her eyes at him in suspicion as he walks over to his two robots and starts fiddling with them. "What did you say?"

He activates both robots and they both start chattering insistently. "Shut it," both bots quiet down, "I said that I will be coming with ya. It was a lie when I said I only met Miss Lucy that once. Came here years before she left. Lived here working for her, doing odd jobs. When she did finally leave she told me she hoped I would come visit. Never have. Now seems as good a time as ever. That aside, you could likely use the help. Not really a safe time for young women to be wandering about on their own. The Brotherhood of Steel is fighting something like a civil war and so the raiders are taking advantage, reclaiming some of their old hold outs."

The Mr. Handy robot floats towards Marie and examines her with one of its eyestalks. It makes a series of clicking and whirring sounds then falls silent. "Um," she says uncertainly, "hi?" The robot repeats the same series of sounds.

"He is asking what a young lady like yourself is doing with so many weapons. His name is Click, I know its ironic but I didn't choose the name. He still has some of his pre-war programming so he thinks an overabundance of weaponry is rude, and he isn't wrong." Rudy points over his shoulder at the assaultron. "Her name is Delilah, or DE, your choice. She doesn't talk much, but she is killer in a fight." He pulls a small pack of supplies from a crate and looks at her expectantly. "Well are we hittin the road or not Lass? Lets go."