OoO( 3 )OoO

Once off the mountain, traveling had become considerably easier. There was still the odd pothole and the occasional jagged rock, but the typically flat ground on the way to the city was much preferable, especially given all the new weight he had strapped to him. With the coolness that night brought, he made good time as he trekked across the sand and dust towards the dark walls of the supposed city in the wasteland. After about two hours of walking under the weight of all the weapons and equipment he had taken, he approached the front of the giant, walled city itself.

As he arrived, he noticed a campfire not far outside the entrance to the city. From where he was standing, he could easily see the silhouettes of several people sitting around the roaring flame. With Poison's words echoing in his head, he pulled one of the long-barreled, more accurate hunting rifles off his back and approached the minuscule camp with his head low.

As he ducked behind a jutting stone, he immediately sighted a large animal, made him go wide-eyed with awe. It had to have been somehow related to the pre-war cows. It was massive, even compared to its ancestors, and instead of one head, it had two that were split into a V shape coming off the neck. The other noticeable change to the creature was its blood red skin. No longer did it have the protective fur, but now just a thick, bare, red, withered hide.

Though curious about the creature, he refocused his attention and spied the three humans sitting by the fire. One was a rugged man, seemingly worn down by the wasteland with a machine gun across his back, armor covering him from head to toe, and a freshly shorn grey crew cut on his head. At the moment, he was focused on cooking whatever kind of meat he had speared on a skewer over the fire between them.

The second man was seemingly of a higher stature though. He was more finely dressed, had rounded bifocals on the bridge of his nose, a cleanly shaven head, and though his skin was slightly wrinkled, it was much less rugged and dirty. He seemed to be enjoying a loud, one sided conversation with the man who was cooking about a glorious new drug he had in stock. If John didn't know any better, he'd have thought the man was trying to sell said drug to the third man without asking directly.

The third of the trio was a more simple man. He sat in front of the fire, leaning back into a chair that was made of metal, but the configuration made it look like it was meant to fold and move easily. He however, was rigid in the chair, trying to become comfortable, and failing miserably. He had about the most normal clothing that he had seen on anyone yet, with a pair of trousers that had two pockets on the hips. He wore a dark colored t-shirt, with a sleeveless vest on top. And on his head, he wore a grey bandanna that ended on his forehead, just above the eye patch covering his right eye.

To John, it didn't look like they were grilling human. And aside from the armored one, it didn't look like any of them were even armed. Not to mention they didn't exactly hold the same air about them as the raiders from earlier. After listening to the conversation switch from this miracle drug, to the price of a new brahmin, then back to said drug, he finally resolved to approach them. Sliding the gun over his shoulder again, he still held the assault rifle in his hand, with one finger on the side of the trigger.

At a young age, when his father had repaired a mysterious BB gun for him, he had taught him the basic fundamentals of owning a firearm. Both the best, four step method of firing, and the safety precautions that must be exercised in both handling, and keeping the weapon. One of those precautions was to never have your finger wrapped around the trigger unless you were aiming to fire, lest the trigger misfire. According to his father and the history holotapes from school, one of the most bloody wars in American history had started with a weapon misfiring, leading a nation into war against thirteen small colonies that lasted eight years. The young man was careful with his weapons, and didn't intend to start any wars today.

Holding one hand up with his palm flat in a sign of greeting, with his assault weapon aimed at the ground, he slowly approached. Surprisingly, the man with the eye patch was the first to notice him approaching. "Looks like we got a visitor." said the man as he sat up straight. Then the one eye widened as he saw the jumpsuit that he wore. "A vault dweller? Well, that's a bit unexpected." he said curiously.

John looked at him oddly for the remark, but the young man immediately snapped out of it as the armored figure stood and reached to draw his weapon. The vault escapee immediately raised the gun before the other figure could pull his off his back. "Uh uh, don't touch it." he said, his voice lacking any indication that he was joking. "I've killed more people today than I care to remember, I don't want to start again." he snapped, already feeling his heart begin to pound again as it had before.

The armored man let go of the weapon, but glared at the boy. The pristine man stared at them both, and the eye-patched man leaned forward onto his knees, watching curiously. "Look kid, I've been marching this wasteland for forty years now. I'm not going to be intimidated by some snobby vault dweller with a silver spoon in his ass." said the man as he sneered. John just sighed in annoyance, then fired into the ground at the man's feet. The armored figure fell backwards at the sudden burst of rounds, landing firmly on his rear end.

"That's twice I've had to do that today..." he said as he walked over and stood over the man. "Four raiders are now dead because they tried taking me prisoner. Are you a raider? Because if you are, tell me now and I'll make this conversation a lot shorter." he commanded, raising the weapon to the armored figure's face.

"Now now, I don't think that will be necessary." said the eye-patched man as he walked up next to John with his arms raised. "He's no raider, he's just the guard for Doc Hoff here's caravan. And he doesn't like surprises. Don't worry, he won't do anything hasty." he said, turning his head and staring at the man on the ground. "Right?"

The man said nothing, but nodded. John lowered the gun to the ground again, allowing the strap around his shoulder to take the weight as he turned to the man next to him. "And you are?"

"My name is Billy, Billy Creel. That over there is Doc Hoff..." he said, nodding towards the well kept man. "This is George. Guard for hire, protects caravans and whatnot. Don't let his attitude get to you. He treats everyone who doesn't pay him like that." he said. "And you are?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow curiously at the vault dweller.

"John Ronas, I just left the vault earlier today and was attacked in my sleep by raiders in the small town over there." he said, thumbing towards Springvale. He looked over at George and nodded his head in apology. "Sorry for my itchy trigger finger. I've had no less than ten people try and kill me today, so I'm a bit on edge." he said in a friendly tone.

George regarded him for a moment, then stood again and dusted himself off. "After fighting raiders, I'd be pretty ornery too. No harm no foul." he said, returning to cooking meat by the fire.

"And thank you, it's good to finally meet someone out here with a friendly face." he said to Billy, the relief in his voice very noticeable.

Billy looked at him curiously as he shook the young man's hand. "You said you took out a group of raiders in Springvale?" his voice a mix of disbelief and

John nodded as he took a seat next to Billy's chair. "Yeah, I was asleep in one of the houses. I already had an ordeal getting out of the vault, and didn't know what was what up here, so I thought I'd sleep out the night. But, while I was napping, they swooped in and took me hostage. I killed all but one of them, and sent the last one running off into the night." he said as he dug through the survival pack he had taken from one of the raiders. Inside, he had stashed his important stuff, the lunchbox, the waters he had taken from the vault, rations left behind by Poison, and anything else he deemed important.

"That's a pretty big accomplishment for someone fresh in the wasteland." said Billy as he eyed the water. He was stunned at how clean it looked. "Is that purified water?" John nodded, offering the bottle to the man. Billy reeled for a second, then reached forward and took the thick plastic bottle. "You sure about this?"

John looked at him oddly. "You act like I just handed you a wad of money."

"I mean, you kinda did. To get water like this out here, you've gotta shell out some serious caps." said Billy as he continued holding the bottle out, as if giving the young man a chance to take it back.

But the young gunman just stared at Billy blankly. Doc Hoff spoke up for the man instead. "Caps, you know...money? Currency? Quid?" he asked, slightly surprised at the blank expression.

"He just got out of the vault Doc, he probably doesn't even know what we're talking about." said Billy, before he turned back to the vault dweller. "Since the bombs fell, bottle caps have become the wasteland currency. Don't ask how or why, but that's how it is. So if someone asks you for caps, they're essentially asking you for money." he explained, pleased with himself when John's face lit up like a bulb.

A look of enlightenment dawned on John's face, then he pulled out the lunchbox and opened it in front of them. "Like these?" he asked, showing the mass of bottle caps. Billy's one eye widened as he saw the sheer amount that the new wastelander held.

"Holy shit kid...that's gotta be at least a thousand caps you got." He reached up and pulled the bandanna off his head, using it to wipe away a small amount of sweat that had dotted his brow. "If you've been in the vault your whole life, how'd you manage to collect those?"

The young man sighed and shrugged. "My father left them for a friend, who was killed before I left. I don't think he intended for me to follow him out, but shit happens." he said, taking a swig of the lukewarm, but radiation free water. "In any case, is there a place in the city I can stay for a while? I'm looking for my father and intend to be here until I find out where he went off to."

Billy nodded. "There are a few options actually. There's the common house, which is a large building on top of the hill that houses most of the wastelanders who just wander into town. If you wanna keep your stuff safe in there though, you'll have to take it with you. Then there's Moriarty's Saloon. He's gonna cost a few caps, but he has rooms, food, and privacy. And last, if you track down Lucas, the sheriff, he's got a property that's for sale. But I don't know if you've got enough for that." he picked the gifted water bottle up and slid it into his pocket. "I can give you a tour if you like."

"That, would be amazingly helpful." said John as he stood again, collected all of his gear, then followed the eye-patched man through the grating gates of the city. His eyes locked onto the robot outside.

"Howdy…pardner! Welcome...to...Megaton!" said the RobCo Protectron model as he and Billy approached the inner doors. John grinned widely at the automaton, with its cowboy hat and cheery greeting.

"I'll have to check that out later." he said to himself, his excitement already mounting. He remembered back to when he was younger, how he'd hunt Andy down through the vault and deactivate him, only to take him apart and put him back together. He'd had an interest in robots and artificial intelligence for a long time, but only had one specimen that he could actually take apart. Nobody really questioned why in ten years, Andy had never needed any repairs.

And any time they had discussions about robotics in class, there had never been anyone remotely as attentive as him. It was really the only time in class that his hand was up constantly, both for asking questions and answering them. The protectron model at the door was now a new specimen, something he strove to understand. But that was for another time. Right now, his eyes were scanning the city around him as he finally entered the giant doors.

The entire city was surrounded by walls and more walls of metal that rose up high above the center of the city, making it look like they were inside a metallic volcano. The shops and houses, unlike the vault, were all mostly rickety buildings with walls made of sheet metal, or some other flimsy material that was just as readily available. They were all built into the hill that sloped up towards the giant metal walls, leaving a slight stair pattern to the buildings that were stacked on top of each other. And nearly everything inside the city was connected by a string of walkways that criss-crossed around the large crater.

John was awed at the sight of the structures built into the side of the large crater that the city was built inside. He was amazed that anything within the walls of the large crater was standing with how rickety things looked. But you really couldn't judge a book by its cover. On top of that, he had come from a vault, where everything built was done so to last potentially millennia. So he knew that he wasn't any expert on architecture.

He scanned around the city a bit more before his gaze locked onto the large bomb planted directly in the center of the crater itself. His eyes widened as he realized what it was, two words echoing in his head. Fat Man. He stopped dead in his tracks, a look of disbelief on his face as he saw the undetonated ordnance sitting in a pond as if it were some kind of massive bird, taking a bath.

Billy stopped, then turned to look at him. "You like our centerpiece?" he asked with a chuckle. "No need to worry friend, that things been there for years. It's not going off any time soon. Now let me show you the Brass Lantern." he said and pulled John with him by the elbow.

OoOoO

It had taken a couple of hours to introduce John to every long term citizen of Megaton. He liked the grand majority of them, aside from Jericho who introduced himself by saying that a kid that'll be dead in less than a week wasn't worth getting to know. Bookmarking that statement in his mind, he just grinned and moved on. Then there was Nathan…

Nathan Vargas was a patriot, to say the least. They had run into him on one of the catwalks as he was heading home from the saloon, when the older man spotted the round orb-like machine hanging from John's ruck. Before Billy could even introduce the pair, he went off on a tirade. "Dadgummit! Another scrapper stealing precious materials from the United States government! It's treason I say! You should be ashamed of yourself!" snapped the angry elder.

John just stared at him dumbly, not saying a word as Billy stepped up for him. "I think what Mister Vargas here is trying to say, is that your droid down their belonged to the Enclave. What he forgets to mention however, is that the Enclave hasn't been seen for decades." said Billy as he eyed Nathan sternly.

Nathan looked like he was about to retort when John spoke up for himself. "Look, if it makes you feel any better, I didn't do anything to it. I was attacked by raiders in the town to the west when this thing flew by and spooked them. I'm actually planning on repairing it for helping save me." said John as he held up the bot so that both of the men could see the gaping hole where the speaker used to be.

"Oh!" said Nathan in surprise as he grinned. "You, young man, are a true American! You know, back when I was your age…" started the elder again, this time in a much kinder tone. But Billy cut him off, giving the man a pat on the back as well as he pushed him along the walkway.

"That's nice Mister Vargas. Tell Manya I said hello." said Billy as he waved at the old man.

Nathan glared at Billy before walking off. "Kids these days! No patience!" he snapped before finally leaving the pair to themselves. Billy just turned to John and shook his head, and amused grin plastered on his face.

"Shall we continue?" he asked as he turned towards the path down to the center of the city when a man in a long duster and a cowboy hat himself turned and headed up towards them. Billy immediately raised an arm in greeting. "Sheriff Simms! We were just coming to have a chat with you!" said the eye-patched man as John watched the man approach. He had dark skin, much darker than he'd seen in the vault, and a short beard to fit the cowboy visage he had going.

"And who might this be?" asked the man as he eyed Billy. "Another wastelander?" But he halted the question when he recognized the blue jumpsuit he was wearing, and also noticed that it was stained with crimson.

"A new friend from Vault 101 actually. Turns out this young man came out of the vault and immediately wiped out one of the gangs rummaging through Springvale." said Billy as he leaned against the wall of the now closed restaurant Billy had called the Brass Lantern. "By the way Lucas, this is John. John, this is Sheriff Lucas Simms."

"Good to meet you Sheriff." greeted John as he held out his hand.

Simms looked at his hand, then back up at the young man's face, as if trying to read him. Finally, he took his hand and shook it. "Good to meet you too John." he said, locking his eyes onto the vault dweller's own. "He said you took a gang out over in Springvale, is that true?" John nodded. "Glad to hear it. Our eagle-eye has had to send them packing a few times. But that leaves us at an impasse."

"How do you figure?" asked John, who was currently not a fan of the sheriff's tone.

"Because, that either makes you a friend, or an enemy. And I'd like to get those details out of the way right now." he said. His voice was not hostile by any means, but also was he not friendly. More of a cold observer than anything else.

"And how does killing raiders make me your enemy?" he asked, his arms crossed and an annoyed look on his face. Not even a single night in the town and he had already been interrogated twice.

Lucas smiled grimly. "Because, raiders kill other raiders too. That doesn't make them my friends." responded the Sheriff as he crossed his arms in response. "And if you took out their whole group, it means that you know how to kill pretty damn good. So, given that I have a lot of innocent people here to protect, I need to know now what kind of person you are."

Never losing his annoyed look, John retorted, "I'm not the kind to start randomly firing at strangers if that's what you're implying. Everything I have I either took from those raiders or brought with me."

Lucas stared at John for a long moment before Billy spoke up. "I'm gonna have to vouch for him myself. When he walked up to us outside, he had his weapon ready. If he was going to kill us and steal our stuff, he had plenty of opportunity."

The sheriff smiled as he turned to John again. "Well then, it's good to have you here. Keep doing work like you're doing, and we'll be friends in no time." he said as tipped his cowboy style hat in a small gesture of thanks. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other matters to attend to."

"Sheriff..." said the vault dweller nervously. Lucas turned to him, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. "I was wondering, early this morning, my father left the vault as well. I don't know if he came this way, but I was wondering if you had seen another wearing one of these pass through here." he inquired as he tapped the breast of his jumpsuit.

"I'm afraid not son. A lot of people come through here on a daily basis. Some stay, some go. But not all of them I get to meet. However, if you're going to ask around, I can save you some time by telling you to head to Moriarty's Saloon up on the upper levels. If your dad needed any information, he'd have stopped by there." he said. Then he patted the vault dweller on the shoulder and walked off into the darkness.

"He's right. If your dad came by looking for information, then he'd be directed there. And if I were stuffed in a vault for as long as him, that's the first thing I'd be looking for out here." said Billy as he patted John on the back. "Thanks again for the water. Hope you find what you're looking for."

John nodded with a smile, running his hand through his brown hair that tended to naturally spike backwards. "No problem. You'll have to introduce me to Maggie one day. It's a shame she was already asleep" he said. Billy nodded, then the two went their separate ways. John climbed the walkways once more until he reached the familiar saloon, then opened the door and went inside.

"Hello again sugar." greeted the female who sat beside the bar. He looked at her and smiled, not used to being stared at by women the way she was. Amata had always looked at him with tender caringness. Nova, however, smiled back with a very vixen like grin, one he wasn't too familiar with the meaning of.

The man behind the bar, if he could be called that, was named Gob. He stood taller than John by almost half a foot, but was shorter on account of his massive slouch. His skin was...gone. Or, mostly gone. Some places showed nothing but the facial muscles underneath, while other spots had patches of skin that looked as if they were slowly peeling off. The only sign of hair he had was a small tuft that grew from an even smaller patch of skin left on his ravaged scalp.

Despite his grisly appearance, his eyes told a story of friendliness, of sorrow, and of someone who didn't deserve his situation. "What'll it be?" asked Gob in a friendly enough tone. Before being introduced to him, Billy had warned John ahead of time about ghouls. The young man had to say he was thankful, as without warning, he would have likely run terrified out of the saloon.

"Is Moriarty available? I have some questions for him." he asked, drumming his fingers on the counter. He didn't realize how nervous he was that his father might not have come to this saloon, or town at all.

"Sorry hun, but he's out like a light for tonight. If you'd like, you can get a room and talk to him in the morning." said the red-headed woman, her voice rather suggestive as a coy smile played across her face.

He sighed heavily, the knot in his stomach clenching unbearably. "Alright...if that's all I can do. How much is it for a room?" he asked, pulling his ruck up onto one of the stools. Immediately, he noticed that nearly every eye in the room, aside from Gob's, who were on him, and Nova's, whose were "on him" were aimed at the stuffed pack.

Gob, who was in the middle of recapping a beer bottle, looked up at the young man. "It's usually 120 caps per night. But I'll tell you what. You seem like a nice kid, and you didn't gasp in horror the first time you saw me, I'll give you a discount. Just don't go telling Moriarty about it." he said quietly to John in his gravelly voice.

John smiled slightly, nervously aware of the people staring at his supplies. "That'd be great. Thanks." he whispered to Gob. Rummaging through his bag, he cracked the lunchbox and pulled out their agreed upon price, keeping the box inside to make sure that nobody knew exactly how much money he had. After paying the ghoul across the counter, he shouldered his gear and went to the room which the bartender had pointed out.

After closing the door behind himself, he placed the large pack, along with all the guns he had acquired on the opposite side of the bed from the door. Billy had been very kind to him, but had warned him ahead of time that things outside the vault worked very different. Instead of working together to make a better whole, most of the people in the wasteland found it easier to just steal and kill. So, with a certain paranoia surrounding him, he made sure that all of his firearms were within reach should anyone try to sneak in at night. Laying them all along the wall and within easy grasping distance, he took the drone off his bag and sat heavily on the bed, eyeing the small robot.

He'd never made an alteration to a robot like he was planning for this one. To make it work, he'd have to shift some parts around and redistribute some of the weight so that it didn't fall face first every time it lifted off. On top of that, if he did have to add extra weight to counterbalance the new face, then that would require him to increase the output to the stabilizing jet that allowed it to float. Otherwise, it wouldn't even be able to lift off.

As all the numbers ran through his head, the door behind him creaked open again. Immediately, he grabbed one of the pistols close by and aimed at at the door. But Nova raised her hands defensively, making him lower the weapon. "Easy cowboy." she said with a friendly smile. He set the gun down and and instead continued staring at the robot in his hands.

"Can I help you with something?" Despite trying to focus on the bullet hole, he couldn't help his eyes slipping back towards her. She had an unkempt mop of ginger hair, that despite its mussed appearance, worked well with how she dressed. Her clothes had smacked him in the face as soon as he entered the tavern. Back in the vault, the women never dressed provocatively like she was now. The only thing he had ever seen that could compare was a magazine that Butch had showed off to his buddies.

Her shirt was cut short, leaving her flat stomach exposed to the world. And while she was fully covered, it didn't leave much to the imagination as far as her bust went. The fabric was tight, and low cut enough that anytime she bent forward, the cleavage of her large bosom pressed against the edges and bulged further, giving onlookers a clear shot of her goods. The sleeves of the shirt were the only thing that wasn't tight about it, each one billowed and draping off her arms like she was a smoke dancer. And the only thing that she wore below the belt was a tiny pair of jean shorts that exposed her miles of legs, wide hips, and firm behind. Realizing that he'd been staring longer than he should have, he finally looked back at the robot.

The woman walked forward slowly and sat with him on the bed, eyeing the curious machine with him. "I just wanted to say that I'm very sorry for everything that's happened to you so far. I know that today has been probably the most chaotic day of your life." she said sympathetically. Despite his surprise that anyone out here could give a damn about another person, he kept a straight face.

"That's putting it lightly. Before today, the most exciting thing to ever happen to me was when I got into a fist fight with a group of gangers who wouldn't leave Amata alone." he said, chuckling as he realized how much he longed for another brawl with that idiot Butch.

"And Amata is?" she asked curiously, scooting closer to the young man. At her question, he seemed to sink deep in thought, making him oblivious to her movements.

"The Overseer's daughter. She was my best friend." he said, rubbing his forehead lightly with one hand. Remembering her face, and Butch's stupid grin made him feel an immediate wave of homesickness. Not for the vault per se, but for his friends. Even the leader of the Tunnel Snakes had loosened up as they got older, allowing for a lasting peace between all of them.

"Was she your girlfriend?" Nova asked as she propped herself up behind him and began to rub his bare shoulders, her hands appreciating every inch of his musculature that they could.

"Girlfriend? Like, were we going steady?" he asked for clarification. The woman, hearing the very archaic terminology just laughed and nodded. He stared at the floor silently as he recalled their parting at the gate. "She was..." he said, his face now a grim look of ire. Despite his annoyance, he began groaning in pleasure as she found a sore spot and worked out the tiredness.

Not stopping her gentle application of pressure, she eyed him curiously, the statement giving her the go ahead to reach in front of him and gently begin to unzip the jumpsuit that he wore. "Was?" she asked for clarification, grinning at the fact that he wasn't stopping her.

"We...parted at the door." he said in a tone that suggested he was tired of the subject.

"Shame." was all she said in response as she pulled the top of the jumpsuit off him, then wrapped her arms around his pale torso, her small hands sliding gently up his shirt to feel his bare skin. She then leaned her head against his shoulder, breathing down his neck and sending goosebumps all over his skin. It wasn't long before he was leaning back into her as well, his hands sliding along her bare legs that were on either side of him. "Want me to stay the night with you? Keep your mind off your crazy day?" she asked seductively into his ear.

He opened his eyes, knowing what she was really asking. Despite his urge to suppress the memory, her face popped up in his head again. He stared at Amata in his mind as if she were right in front of him, and she stared at him. This time, he pulled away. "Yeah...I think I'd like that."