A rotted hand slammed down on the radio once more with angry speed as it spat static at the bartender. "Stupid piece of junk!" He growled.
Observing this usual occurrence was a red haired woman taking a drag off a dirty cigarette. "Give it up Gob. Its not the radio, it's the station." She coldly stated as she puffed her cigarette once more. It did not deter the grisly bartender.
The door to the saloon opened, walking a brisk yet heavy step was a blonde and rather heavy setted man, who with only the sound of his entrance changed the bartenders actions into a quick rub down of the bar table. "I thought I heard ya goin' feral, ya ugly bastard. Scared the shit outta me." He holstered his gun, a little automatic pistol that Gob watched with frightened scarred eyes.
"No Mr. Moriarty sir. I'm sorry..." He said quickly moving his eyes away from the man. His boss didn't respond, just continued walking towards the bar till he circled around it to the room in the back, shutting the door.
"Can't believe I'm stuck working with that asshole..." The woman finally said. Gob only gave a hoarse sigh. She looked over at the suited man in the corner gawking at her, giving her a smile before slowly leaning into his seat and staring at the ceiling. Creepy bastard.
The sound of the door came once more, Gob didn't look up but the woman did, seeing the newcomer stand their a little too long. The sun behind him caused his shadow to be a bit darker so making out his face was hard. What she could see was his long and reddish brown hair looking cleaner than most girls in the waste, yet the heat obviously made it friz.
And his outfit, a blue jumpsuit with a pistol caught in its zipper, and in his hand a leather jacket. She let out an interested hum.
"You just gonna stand there?" She asked the figure.
He suddenly came in, the door closing behind him. When the sun wasn't beaming down on him, she could finally see him fully, and the frightened expression on his face as he looked at the bartender. She smiled.
"Are- are you Moriarty?" He said, his voice was rather young, she thought. It made sense, but it didn't make sense for him to look at Gob and ask him that. Still, she wanted to watch and see what happened.
The ghoul looked up at the new person before he quickly looked away. "No, I am not Mr. Moriarty. I- I'm sorry."
The young man let out a relieved sigh. "Thank God! I was a little scared... Not that- that it's because of anything specific! Just-"
"Wait," Gobs looked at him, something Nova rarely sees him do. "You're not gonna hit me?"
A brief moment passed where the vault dweller darted his gaze around the place nervously before answering. "Am- am I supposed to? I'd rather-" The woman watching this interaction unfold laughed, causing the two to look at her.
"Aw he's cute, Gob. Can we keep him?" He merely shook his head and folded his arms. "You're real funny Nova."
"Aha! Yeah..." The vault dweller scratched his head, looking away for a brief reprieve. "I'm Poet by the way. I'm looking for my dad, he's got Grey's in his hair and a vault suit like mine..."
When the word vault came up, the two he spoke to were not the only ones listening and watching, but the suited man had been as well, saw the nervous being step in, noticed he had a face unfamiliar to this place. It made him smile.
"I seen him," Gob stated. "He was nicer than most of the people who came in, wadn't rude to me or nothin. I couldn't believe he was from a vault, most people would be mean to me..."
"Well," Poet sat at the bar, looking at the man's peeling and discolored skin. "I'm not gonna be mean to ya. I understand people are shit when you're different." Gob smiled at him, his blackened teeth made Poet glance at them before back up at the ghouls face quickly. Poor fucker. Was all he could think.
"You ain't bad niether, smooth-skin. I'm gonna give you a discount-"
"Ooo, Gobs taking risk!" Nova smiled, her voice had a small spike of cheer in her cool tone.
"Means he likes you, kid."
"-Don't tell Moriarty or he'll hurt me."
The door behind him opened, the two quickly acted as if they had been working, Nova more so striking lazily sexy poses at the folk coming in. Poet saw the one man who owned this establishment, just as he gave a toothy grin.
"Well now, if it isn't the new comer!" He heartily said. "Welcome! To Moriartys saloon! I'm Moriarty." He stepped away from the bar and amidst the customers so as to get a closer look at the vault dweller.
"Well... I'm looking for my dad." The strange accented man's smile became wider as his eyes laid soley on Poet now. The jovial act was like a roughly made mask, Poet had found. The longer his mask was on, the longer he could see the ceramic.
He led him to his office, Poet was shooting nervous looks at the two workers as well as the whole bar. Gob didn't look back at him, Nova only responded with a sorry look.
"So... It's you!" Moriarty gasped. "Its that annoying lil babe the doctor brought with him all grown up!" His laugh drowned out Poets audible confusion, not even noticing the young man shooting up from his chair. He could only hear it when He ceased his humored howling.
"That can't be true. Why would you lie about me and my dad like that? I'm just-"
"Exactly." Moriarty swiftly retorted. "Why would I even need to lie about it? Oh lad, I recognized you the moment I laid eyes on you, you got your daddy's eyes and well, the matching suits o'course..."
"Alright fine." Poet quickly said, sitting down by the saloon owners desk. "I'm not here for a revelation of my past. I'm just trying to find dad."
"Aww!" Moriarty cooed mockingly, causing the boys demeanor to change,the trepidation slightly letting out a look of small agitation. "The poor boy is seeking pops!" He briefly paused before continuing on. "Listen lad, nothin is free up here."
He sat up and looked Poet in the eyes. As if he was looking down from heaven like God giving a commandment. "You want information? You're gonna have to pay up. And I'm selling dear old dads location for... One hundred caps."
Poet tilted his head and arched his brows when the man asked him for a hundred caps. "Why in the hell do you want caps? Is it something to do with keeping your bear from getting stale?"
"Why yes it is!" Moriarty suddenly lit up with a goofy smile on his face. "I want to keep all those bottle caps so I'll have left over caps for my beer!" He shook his head and sighed. "No you fuckn stupid runt, it's money."
"You don't have to be an asshole..." Poet muttered.
"Oh I do, lad." Moriarty responded animatedly. "In fact time is money, and your dumb ass is costing me money! So with that there will be intrest, say... One-hundred-fifty."
Poet stood up, fuming with rage. "You fucker!" He hissed.
The big Irishman stood up briskly, much taller than Poet should note as well as broader, but he only grinned and opened his office door. "Oh dear, now it's two-hundred! Better get to work before you can't afford it!"
Poet stormed out of the saloon, not even parting with a formal farewell to Gob and Nova who watched with concerned interest. Their boss, on the other hand, smiled whilst shaking his head, entertained by his own antics.
Poet made his way to a store called Craterside supply, it's sign just splashed on a wooden board with yellow paint.
The front door opened and Poet met a very enthusiastic old man who smiled at him. "Ah look at this! New blood!"
He didn't show his distaste for being called new blood but Poet was starting not to like this town bit by bit.
"Yeah... I guess that's me."
"You ever heard of the enclave?"
They sounded familiar to Poet but only from something he heard along time ago. He shook his head. "I don't believe so, sir."
The old man scoffed. "Well they're on the radio! And they're gonna come in one day and bring back the good old US of A!"
"That sounds nice..." Poet breathed out. "I'm afraid I have some business to deal with." The old man nodded and Poet finally got inside the store. He shook his head as he sighed. He really loves his radio shows.
Stepping into that store, he was met with a set of dark eyes watching him, a man who looked rather irritated by whatever had gone on this day.
His leather attire looked just the same, probably also from the stitching and creasing of his arms folding together. Poet only smiled a hello, where as the man continued his intent stare.
"Do we have a customer?" A rather chipper voice came from the upstairs area in the store, Poets eyes drifted back at the man who hadn't moved his away. "Yes." The man answered quickly.
Footsteps commenced down the staircase with quick glee, and suddenly the energy of the room shifted when he saw the rather excited woman; why she looked happy, or happier than most at the very least, he could see her smiling face mostly because she had her brown hair tied behind her. Still, he could see smudges in her turquoise jumpsuit like she had been messing with machines.
"Oh! It's another vault dweller!" The chirpy tone in her voice only amped higher now.
"Yeah hi, I'm -"
"This is great!" She continued on. "I've been writing a book and I needed to write an introduction, something involving vaults and vault dwellers! You think you could help me out?" Poet only shrugged and agreed to aid her, which made her happier. "Great!"
She went over to a desk with a terminal sitting on the rusted furniture, picking through its drawers till she had a pencil and a stained notebook. "Okay! Could you tell me about the vault?"
It hadn't been too long ago since he came from the vault, but with everything new he hardly had time to think of it, besides his dad. "Well... Before my dad left, everything was pretty alright. We lived like a little community, had no worries about food or sleep, helping each other when we could..."
He suddenly chuckled when he thought of Butches gang.
"Well, most of us anyway." But with thinking of that, he thought of Paul...
The woman had asked something else, maybe responded to what he said, but Poet was caught in a whirlwind of thought and emotion. The last moments with Paul sent spikes of sorrow and want into him, and how quickly they stung. He never actually realized he might not see Paul again...
He looked down at the steel floor, squeezing his arm tightly while trying to focus on the smaller pain.
"Mr vault dweller?" He could suddenly hear the woman, her inquisitive attitude not unnoticed. "Could I ask what you think of the outside?"
Poets smirk was small, a grim one without the charming light it would have. "It's hot and people are meaner out here... Smells too. Can't really say much, just got outside today."
"Oh!" The woman out her notebook down and clasped her face quickly with her leathery hands. "You've really had it rough today, huh?"
Poet shrugged and nodded. "Well I appreciate you helping me out! I'd like to gift you something." She stepped away from her desk and walked quickly to a locker standing away. He watched her with curiosity as she tossed some old trash from it, items of quality she set down gently before racing to this gift for him.
She let out a sound of victory when she pulled out a leather gun belt with a holster and pockets for bullets, Poet tried to show a sign of impressment but it only looked like a closed smile. "Ah thank you miss-"
"Oh I'm Moira Brown!" She giddily said, smiling at the ex-vault citizen.
"Thank you Moira but I really need some money right now. And I was hoping you had more work."
The woman's smile didn't cease, nor her genuine and somewhat nauseous excitement. "I do need an assistant for my book... Someone who can go out and answer the questions I need answered. Like if The Super Duper Mart still has food and medicine! It's a hundred caps and a little food purifier!"
Poet was hesitant, scratching his head while thinking about a few reasons why that sounds like suicide. But he also tried to push through it, for the sake of finding his father.
"I guess I can do that... Where's it as?"
Moira grabbed his arm and made a pin point on the area. Poet was surprised by her know how, but merely waved goodbye to her as he headed off.