The museum of technology had a staler air than most places Charon had been to, he guessed it had something to do with the place being a museum, one could practically taste the boredom in it.
Not that it had been all that boring so far, a few super mutants were always good to get the blood flowing, and Charon had enjoyed the fresh boost of adrenaline over the weariness of guarding Ahzrukhal against non-existent threats. Well...as much enjoyment as he could get...nowadays even adrenaline had trouble drawing him out of his permanent numbness.
Charon eyed his new master warily, or employer as the kid apparently liked to call himself...as if it somehow made the deal fairer. Charon couldn't help but sigh...another guy with a conscience, it had been a long time since he'd had one of those...one would think people had learnt that life wasn't fair by now. Of course there was always another one to prove you wrong...
As he watched the kid moved down a rusty set of stairs while waving Charon to follow. Though it seemed a little useless to be silent since the moment the kid stepped into the new corridor a pair of lights went on and an automated voice started to explain something about the show they were walking past...something about a vault? Charon couldn't care less really, though the kid seemed to flinch every time the voice came on.
The kid, John wasn't it, was so far only a minor annoyance. He had time and time again changed his behaviour, right now he was completely silent while using different hand gestures to command Charon to do stuff. The attempt to look professional was of course ruined by most of the orders being either irrelevant or tactically stupid...but it was preferably to the constant questions and chatter as the kid tried to make friends with Charon.
At least he didn't order Charon to clear the place out on his own, Charon still felt a little anger at stupid orders such as those...though it was preferable to the talking that the kid seemed about to begin with again...didn't he understand that Charon didn't care? What did he care about what his employer did? He might have...a long ago...but now he kept his feelings on the matter hidden from even himself. The kid was simply his master, and he obeyed his master.
"You know..." Oh great. "...not long ago I lived in a vault." The kid waved at one of the displays, through a dusty window. There Charon could see a small room where a couple of tables and chairs stood, a broken Mr Handy lying in a corner. "It's not as nice as the voice makes it sound...or at least not anymore I guess." Well, at least it explained why the kid didn't really have that wastelander vibe they usually carried with them...
It also explained, in a way, his actions so far. It was obvious he was a bit fresh, his shock at seeing Ahzrukhal getting killed in what the kid assumed to be a 'safe' place making that painfully clear. Yes he still possessed some experience in killing super mutants, that much was sure. Though Charon found the anger in the kid a little odd, as if he was impatient with getting under way and was furious with the mutant actually trying to bar his path...what was he impatient for?
Meh, what did he care? Charon knew it was his contract that required him to analyse his new master, to understand his quirks and motivations...so as to better serve him. Understanding did not equal caring however and Charon found the nervous conversational tone of the kid annoying at best: "You haven't asked me why we're here yet....have you?" The kid looked back at him, obviously trying not to look too nervous.
Charon just looked back, not indicating he had even heard the question. His contact didn't allow him to ask questions regarding the activity of his master without expressed permission. Of course one could interpret John's question as an order to give said question...but the force behind it was too weak to make Charon do anything.
Shrugging the kid moved on, acting as if Charon had answered him. "We're going to get a relay dish somewhere in this place, I hope you're strong enough to carry it, I think it might be heavy..." He waited a little to talk again, as if expecting an affirmative or something. Give a clear question or order him to answer you dolt! Hadn't he read the contract? Ugh...kids. "I'm going to set it up over on the Washington monument...I promised Three Dog to do it you see..."
A promise? As in no payment? Charon grimaced inwardly. He had suspected it but hadn't dared making the assumption...another of those bleeding-heart-hero-guys. At least the mercenary types risked their lives for some sort of gain...which usually meant they lived marginally longer. Oh well...another short employment.
"Then we're heading for Rivet city where he told me my father was going." The kid glanced back again, the rifle in his hands and the current mission forgotten. "That's what I'm currently doing you see, trying to find my father...he left the vault you see...and everything just went to hell." The kid took a deep breath, suddenly stopping to lean against the wall.
Oh God dammit...the kid slipped down unto the floor, an empty look in his eyes. "He just left...and everyone blamed me...well almost everyone." A shadow of a smile passed his face. "I fled before they could kill me though. My only home...gone. And now I look for my father because...well I'm not sure why...maybe just to find some answers." He shrugged, looking a little lost, thank God comforting was not part of the contract... "Or maybe it's just something to do...I don't know." Suddenly smiling the kid looked over at Charon while getting to his feet. "So that's my story, what's yours?"
"The contract doesn't allow you to ask such questions." Charon informed his master, not really caring about the useless gesture to get closer. The kid flinched back however, as if fearing a blow. Better get master going... "Any orders?"
"What? Oh right...lets move on." John made a useless wave with his hand as he once more took the lead down the filthy corridors, propping his rifle up against his shoulder in a semi-professional way he begun moving forward. "Erm...you don't talk much? Do you?"
A direct question which is...acceptable. "No master. I speak when necessary."
"Well...you're free to say anything to me you know, any opinion or question...or just plain chatting, it's fine." Ah, the kid still had a bad conscience...fool.
"I'll do that." Pushing past the vaultie Charon lowered his well maintained shotgun as his senses jerked up. A second later the super mutant appeared around the corner ahead of them, a worn brown rifle in its massive hands. "Excuse me master." Politeness wasn't needed by the contract, but if it stopped the kid from annoying him...he could stand using it.
Now the kid gasped at the sight of the mutant stepping through the doorway to the corridor. Thirty feet distance, a small set of stairs in-between...Charon dryly calculated the odds before rushing forward, already taking aim on the lumbering shape. "Haha! A smelly one! Die!" Charon snorted, these things were stupider than Patchwork.
Sending a round out a little too early Charon managed to merely irritate the monster as it lowered its rifle at him, the weapon jerking a little when the mutant pressed the trigger.
It had hit him, the slight pull in his left shoulder informing him of the damage. He doesn't posses much feeling there anymore however and merely growled in irritation of getting another hole in his body...hopefully it didn't damage any muscles.
His next shot tells him everything is okay with him though, his arm is undamaged. That's more then could be said about the super mutant however as it rears back, its left forearm flayed down to the bone. It actually looked a little surprised as it gazed down on an injury not even it could ignore. "What's the matter, can't stand the sight of your own blood ?" Charon taunted, more to force a little more adrenaline out of him then out of any real hatred of his foe. "Bring it!" His third round tore half the throat out of the super mutant's neck, dropping it to the floor with a choking sound as it quickly begun drowning in its own blood.
The adrenaline was gone an instant later, too little to really give a nice buzz. A shame...
Stepping up to it he lowered his shotgun and kicked at the monster's chest, checking for any reaction. Nothing but a another choking sound...it would be dead within moments, not worth an extra round. With a care born out of practice Charon reloaded, checking the mechanism in the magazine as he did so...it was the one thing needed taken care of in his life after all. Nope, the gun was perfect, just the right amount of grease without any dust...Charon leant it against the floor while crouching down to loot the corpse. Master would need more ammunition...
"Wow, you're quite experienced in killing mutants." The kid muttered, stepping up to the feet of the monster and kicking it with a dumb look on his face. Charon of course didn't answer, which seemed to annoy the boy. "Aren't you?"
"Yes master."
"Are you hurt?"
"No master."
"Huh...odd, I thought he hit you."
"He did master. I'm not hurt however." Charon replied, deft fingers moving through the monster's pockets. Ah...four bullets, how useless, better get the ones in that excuse for a rifle... The mutants were good at getting their weapons, but horrible at maintaining them, at times Charon wondered how the brotherhood could have trouble keeping them at bay...
"Okay...that doesn't make sense." The kid muttered, sounding a little unnerved. "Need a stimpak?"
"No master."
"Oh for...please stop calling me master!" The kid groaned, hand moving towards the pocket where he'd placed the contract before he remembered himself. "It's...making me uncomfortable."
"Then order me to call you something else." Charon straightened up and offered the little ammunition he'd gotten out of the corpse.
With a grimace the man accepted the bullets. Heh, Charon didn't really care about his master's attitude towards ghouls, but this one hadn't struck him as a hater... "It doesn't work like that Charon, if I order you to call me something else it's still in a way...master." Ah, so that's the source of the grimace, fucking heroes...
"That's because you are my master." Charon replied, resting the shotgun against his shoulder while casually checking his 'injury'. Just another little hole in his leather armour...there was no blood pouring out even, was his shoulder drying up too much again? He hated when dust poured out of the wounds in his skin...it felt odd. He would probably have to pour some irradiated water unto it later, get some moisture into it and heal up a little... "Now, orders master?"
"No, no, I'm not letting this go." The kid visibly steeled himself and glared back at Charon. If he'd cared enough Charon would have smirked at the pathetic show of courage. "Sure, I have your contract, but Ahzrukhal saw you two as having a partnership." He hesitated, apparently finding Charon not reacting at the name creepy. "I'd like that too...but...you know...without the blowing a hole through me." He snorted at the last words, forcing a small smile.
Great, another one who wanted to be his friend, why wasn't Charon surprised? "Master...I need an order."
The kid gritted his teeth, eyes frustrated. "Oh come on! I'm trying to be nice here! This contract thing is making me uncomfortable and I need to feel that you don't resent me!"
There it was, the kid had fessed up. Not that his conscience was of any importance... "I don't care about you master." Charon sighed inwardly at the confused look he got at that, self-absorbed masters...always thinking themselves overly important. "I only require one thing, an order." God...was the employment going to continue to be like this? How long would this one continue prodding him before he gave up?
"You're sure?" John shook his head, his face crunched up in...nausea? Confusion? Meh...
"Yes master." Charon couldn't stop himself, a real sigh escaped him. "Now, orders?"
"Fine..." The kid's shoulders dropped while he looked away. "...lets just clear this place out then."