Wraith
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Fallout 3. I only own my original characters.
Chapter 1: Post-Purity
The waters ran fresh, but nothing much changed.
"When I want you to please the customers, I want you to do it," Moriarty ordered her, raising his voice just enough to indicate his disappointment in today's earnings. "I don't care if the lad or lass is fat, thin, rich, poor, stupid, or smart. If there are caps to be earned, then you need to earn them."
Nova ran a few fingers along her lips, wiping away the fresh blood that came from Moriarty's punishment. She hated his guts, but he was the only one who could protect her in this town. Every day, she had to tolerate those revolting looks from lone travelers traversing across the wasteland. Though she learned to endure the lowliness of being a whore, she still hated it. She knew that there were other things she was even better at.
"Now, it's gettin' late, and I'm closin' up," he said. "Get out of my office. Tomorrow, earn twice as much as today, you hear?"
"Yes, Colin," she muttered.
And yet, the waters ran fresh. But nothing much changed.
She moped her way out of the room after Moriarty, Megaton's only crime boss, marched his way up to his quarters. Gob was still up washing a few dishes and wiping down the counters, pretending to ignore or be oblivious to the argument that had just happened in the office. Obviously, he would be oblivious to the commotion since arguments were frequent. There was only one customer in the saloon, and he seemed to be busy, reading the daily newsletter. After the events at Project Purity at the Jefferson Memorial, the entire wasteland was reinvigorated with hope. Many raiders gave up their ways of life and helped establish and expand towns. The children from Lamplight traveled to Big Town to find a sense of parenthood. The residents in Tenpenny Tower were no longer complaining so much about the wasteland.
The waters ran fresh. Perhaps some things have changed.
"Don't let him get to ya, Nova," Gob spoke. "You deserve better."
"Thanks, Gob," she replied, her night suddenly brightening up a bit.
Her attention quickly darted towards the man reading the paper, however. She hadn't seen him in town before. Could he be here for the night? The man, dressed in a dark tan trench coat over a jet-black shirt, did not seem to be a normal traveler. His dark brown hair was stylishly groomed and his sitting position brimmed with elegance. He looked like he had more money than the average wastelander. Handsome man, too. Hopefully he'd be nice like that man Mister Burke who was here about half a year ago.
"Hey, hon," she called over to him, strutting sultrily around the bar counter towards his seat in the corner. "You stayin' in town for the night?"
The man took a drag from his cigarette and put it out in the ashtray. He grabbed his sunglasses sitting on the table next to the ashtray and hung them inside his coat pocket. When he looked up at her, she felt a warm rush rise up her chest. His deep hazel eyes pierced through her.
"It depends," he said, his voice deep, urbane, and commanding.
"Depends on what, hon?"
"Depends on if I want to stay tonight."
He was definitely playing with her, and she knew it. Perhaps she'd be able to get enough money tonight, and since Moriarty was sleeping, she could probably keep this to herself. Nova walked over and bent over to meet her face with his, placing her hands on his thighs. "Don't worry about a thing, babe. You're gonna want to stay tonight. I'll make it worth your while."
Unlike most customers, who would be sold by now, he kept an unmoved expression and maintained his gaze. "I'm sure you will. But, I'm in town on business, and business keeps me busy."
She ran a hand up his coat and gripped the collar, lightly pulling him towards her. "Business is stressful, darling. You should take tonight off and spend some time with me. It isn't very often that gentlemen like you come in here."
"Sorry, but I'm working right now."
Her eyes slightly widened. "What?"
The door from behind opened and she stood straight, facing the doorway. Without turning around, Gob was already shooing them off.
"Sorry, but we're closed fer' tonight and all rooms're booked. You can check the common houses across town if you'd like."
"Aw, c'mon, Gob. You can't even be open enough for supplies?"
Amata walked in the room, dressed in a jacket over the odd-looking Vault suit that the Lone Wanderer—James, Jr., after his father—sported when he first entered. She had been coming for months now, just after the events of Project Purity, to get water for the Vault. Apparently, she was the Overseer and though she could easily have others come collect the supplies, she enjoyed the "fresh" air. She was a known figure in Megaton now, though only because the Wanderer had established himself so well in the Wasteland.
"Oh hey, kid," Gob waved. "Yeah, I'll be there in a minute. Is the Brahmin outside?"
"Yep," she cuddled in her jacket, signifying the chill from the outside. "They're waiting and freezing."
"How's it going, Amata?" Nova called out, stepping away from the man in the corner. "The Vault life been okay?"
Amata nodded. "Yep. Hasn't been too bad. We're almost ready to leave completely. I'm hearing some pretty good things about other cities in the wasteland. Rivet City is 'alright,' according to Butch. Actually, I think it might be just me who wants to leave. Everyone else seems okay…"
"Rivet City, huh? Always wanted to go there…"
"If I ever decide to leave, why don't you come with me?" Amata offered.
Nova quickly chuckled and shook her head. "Nah. Colin would never let me. As long as I'm still young and worth a look, he wouldn't let me go."
"That's too bad," she replied. "Maybe we could convince him?"
"Good luck with that, kid. Plus, I was only half-joking. Rivet City would be nice, but I'm also safer here."
"Well, if you really want to leave, just let me know. I'm serious about escaping that hole forever. With or without my father. Ever since, well…ever since Jim died…"
The waters ran fresh. Some things will change.
--
His calculations had to be exact. He had to find an opening. Though there was only that whore and the spineless zombie in the room, not to mention that Vault chick (he always recognized Vault fabric, even if the entire suit was not visible), all it took was one shout or scream to wake up the local patrol. Last time he was here there was only that black man Simms, Stockholm, and the idiotic protectron outside the gates. Now there were a few more people on the town guard, and order finally began taking its toll. Jobs like these would be much harder now that hope was inspired by that naïve Vault Dweller who restored fresh water in the DC area. Things like these were bad for business, even if they were for the benefit of humanity. He wasn't the most evil of men, but when a savior figure like James, Jr. emerges to disrupt the business, he wouldn't hesitate for a moment to take the opportunity to put him or her down. Too bad Talon Company fell on their asses trying to kill him.
The waters ran fresh. And this was the change.
Averting his attention back to the whore, he waited for an opening, wondering which route to take. The time window was closing fast, and Ahzrukhal would cut down the contract earnings by half if he did not complete it in time. He kept a fixed eye upstairs, recalling Moriarty's path and almost biting his tongue for not watching to see which room he headed off to. However, it wouldn't matter much, anyway. He was always good at guessing.
With the whore talking to the vault chick and the ghoul busy loading supplies in the back, he was free to roam. The two women stepped outside to watch the ghoul load supplies, much to his luck. He walked up the stairs carefully, making no sounds or creaks since it could be costly for those who were still here. To his surprise, the ghoul lied about the saloon being full. Detecting no one else in the vicinity, he reached inside his coat and pulled out a .45 caliber, highly customized pistol. He reached inside the coat pocket and screwed on a sound suppressor. The heavy, dusty air was quiet for the moment while he trekked across the saloon's second floor, his eyes focused and intense. The silence grew louder with each step; the thrill, even after all these years, was still present. And yet he was calm.
The man had already broken into Moriarty's room earlier, and sneaking into it again he noticed that he left his fedora on the small table in the room. He walked over to the table and snatched it, fixing it low onto his head. And now it was time for the questioning. He'd rather just kill Moriarty in his sleep, but since the Irish prick was involved in his own immoral practices, Ahzrukhal wanted some information. So, the man sat in a chair nearby, making a creak just loud enough for the sleeping man to hear.
Moriarty was awake, but he pretended to stay asleep. The man watched, slightly amused yet pitied the poor bastard at the same time.
"I know you're awake," the man said.
"Why are you here?"
He set his gun down on the small table and turned on the lamp, dimly illuminating the room. "That is irrelevant. What's relevant is the information you're going to provide me."
"And that information is…?"
"Sheriff Simms has a cavalry; six months ago he was just a tiny little bitch waving his dick around. People have much bigger guns to play with now that the waters are fresh. Someone is arming them."
"Why don't you just kill me?"
"If I wanted to just kill you, I would have done it this morning while you were scheming about with your new buddies. And I know the truth. You're a man with something to lose. You're afraid, and desperate. And desperate men do desperate things. Desperate things are stupid. Stupid things cost lives. And those lives could be yours, that whore's, and that ghoul's."
Moriarty sat up on his bed and ran a hand through his hair. "You're going to kill what is going to happen…is that it? You're going to take it all down. You're just like the rest of them. Remnants of the past…a broken system…"
"You're a part of the same system; part of the same hypocrisy as my client," he said, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. The man exhaled the smoke. "But never think that the same system applies to me."
"Then yer' just a tool."
"There will always be a place in the world for people like me. A manager needs a worker, but a worker doesn't quite need a manager. He can farm, build, or domesticate for himself—in the primitive sense. The manager is just there to collect. He has no skill. He only has the currency, and yet, he still claims to be legitimate. He takes the credit in the end. He gets the promotion, bonus, and blowjob. That's the hypocrisy of this system. Your system."
Moriarty shook his head. "But I don't understand why you would fight to preserve such a thing. The wasteland is finally passing through. It's inevitable. This new order…it will restore this shithole. Everything…returnin' back to what it once was."
"Just because it is new does not mean it is different," the man replied, getting rid of the ash from his cigarette into the ashtray. "It's the same system. The same order. My client doesn't understand, but I wouldn't need to explain. In the end, nothing changes. Life is a wasteland."
"What do you mean exactly, lad? There can't be anything worse than this."
"A mob boss hiring gangsters is comparable to a manager hiring workers. It's a similar concept, but with different facades. An order replacing another order. But to do that, you need men like me. Without men like me, there would only be darkness, and everything returns to zero."
"Ya think ya can stop what will happen? Ya think ya can plunge this world back into nothing?"
The man smiled amusingly. "No. I don't think I can do that. And I hope I won't do that. I do what I get paid to do, because there's no sense in controlling an incontrollable world. Why do you think the wasteland started in the first place?"
"But the wasteland is ground zero. It's square one. Yer' just lyin' to yourself now. You're playing against what you think."
"I'm not paid to think, Mr. Moriarty. Because that does not matter. Because it has no worth." He wanted to check his watch to see if time was running out. Honestly, he was intrigued by this conversation with Colin. "And at this state, we're far from zero. Zero is when we're all gone; our shouts and screams of agony, ecstasy, fear, pride, and oblivion echoing about in space and time."
Finally, he checked his watch, and he was nearly behind schedule. He didn't expect to be talking this long.
"Now, I'm going to ask you again, who's funding and rebuilding the wasteland? Who's arming the 'innocent'?"
Moriarty, at first disappointed with the man's entry into the room, was now in a state of fear. He swallowed nervously and looked down on the ground. "I-If I tell ya, will you spare me?"
"No," he said. "But if you tell me, I'll spare the whore and that ghoul. That is, if you care for them. Which I assume you don't."
"Why…? You know you don't have to do this."
"I signed the contract, Colin. So, yes, I have to do this. Look, if you tell me, I'll spare them. Because as far as I'm concerned, they're just as liable as you are now. That's the best you're gonna get."
The man saw it in Moriarty's face. He knew that Colin mistreated both the ghoul and the whore, and he knew that Colin would not give two shits about them if they got into trouble. But, the sympathy in the cold man's face bled through, suddenly looking as if he cared for them. He was probably regretting all of those scars he gave that prostitute, or those times he mistreated the ghoul, or rather yet his slave.
The waters ran fresh. It gave hope.
"Okay, lad. Alright. The people funding this are the Brotherhood of Steel. They've been down for some time, I know, but they're rising again. Elder Lyons is on some crusade to restore DC. I volunteered to help keep an eye out for men like your client. I was the mole."
The man reached for his weapon as he finished his cigarette.
"You weren't good."
He raised his weapon and fired.
--
"Guess that's it, Amata," Gob said. "I threw in a few extra bottles, free of charge."
"Thanks, Gob."
Nova uncrossed her arms and stood away from the wall she leaned against. "You sure you don't wanna stay longer for a drink, hon?"
"Heh, no thanks. It's a bit late. Maybe next time," Amata replied. "Hey, Nova. I'm really serious about moving to Rivet City. If you're up for it, just tell me next time. I might be in town this week again. Plus, I'd like to have a traveling partner…"
"You mean you're going alone?" Nova asked, suddenly a bit frightened.
"No, of course not. But the guy travelling with me is some lame Brotherhood guy. I think he was just newly appointed to Lyons' squad or something, since she lost her entire crew during Purity. He's supposed to be one of the best."
"Sounds like a hunk."
Gob scoffed at Nova's remark, but replied to Amata. "For a vault dweller, you're well informed."
"Dr. Li sought me out after learning that I was the closest to Jim aside from his father. Kind of made me feel special."
"I'll get back to you about that Rivet City thing, kid," Nova then said. "Go back home before it gets too late…or too early."
Amata strapped up her pack Brahmin and began heading toward the gates, back to Vault 101. She waved them goodbye for now, until the week after next, when she'd be back for more water. The water supply had actually broken down awhile ago, so the saloon had to supply the water. That strange woman Moira over at Craterside and Jenny Stahl down below supplied her with the rest. Gob walked back inside to put the caps in the register.
Deciding to stay outside, Nova leaned against the wall again and pulled out a cigarette, looking up into the stars. It was like staring into space from a prison. The odd way that Megaton caved in because of the atomic bomb made her world shrink infinitely. The stars were out tonight, and the sky was clear. Nova moved from the wall to the railing and leaned against it, staring into the distance. All of the atom bombs in the world would never take this sight away. It was what kept her calm as a child. Amidst the destruction and dryness of the wasteland, Megaton was actually very beautiful at nighttime. Nova enjoyed the various lights hanging in the city, and it made every night feel like the holidays.
Breaking her thoughts was the front door opening. She turned around and saw the silhouette of a coated man floating past the door and letting it shut behind him. He was ready to leave. Looks like she wouldn't get to make extra money after all. It wouldn't matter, since she wasn't in the mood for it tonight anyway. He fixed his fedora—much to her surprise because she never remembered him having one—and stepped by her, seemingly not knowing whether to converse or just walk away. Other men usually just walked away, but he decided to stay a moment.
"Looks like you had a long day," the man said, walking over to her, standing by her side.
"Looks like you're about to have a long night," she told him. "That is, if you're doing business."
"Yep. It'll be a long night," he confirmed.
"Will I see you tomorrow?"
"Probably not. I mean, it's not like you're desperate for caps or anything, right?" he remarked dryly.
She would probably take offense, but she learned to take it. Still, it didn't hide the slight disgust on her face after he said it. It broke the charming aura of his. She was surprised, though, when he had an embarrassed look upon him.
"Sorry. That was…rude," he apologized. "No. You won't see me tomorrow."
"That's too bad," was all she said.
"It's just…you don't seem the type to be…" he had trouble finding an inoffensive word. "…this."
She blew a breath of smoke. "And what do you do?"
"Sorry, can't say. I'd rather spare myself from judgment. I'm sensitive," he joked.
Nova cracked a tiny, sweet smile but looked away. He noticed this and smiled back, even though she didn't see. A strange silence then fell upon them, like some kind of line was crossed, or even erased. They both felt a tinge of peculiarity, as if they were not themselves for that moment.
"No, really…" she then said, breaking the silence. "What do you do?"
He shrugged. "Well, I make a living by finding people, looting their homes, and interrogating them for information. And occasionally I might run into competitors who find that I make the business distasteful. I might even hurt people, too. Did you know I also kill them?"
Nova chuckled at his reply. "That's funny, because I also whore myself out to every man I see."
"Even the ghoul?"
"Especially the ghoul," she joked.
"Well, I know that's not true because I haven't fallen into your spell yet," he then said.
She gave him another smile. "But I do not yet know if what you say is true, but I think I have my own judgment."
"Hey, careful with that, I'm sensitive to judgment, remember?"
"Uh huh."
They both shared a moment of light laughter together, but tried to keep their eyes away so that the moment was not uncomfortable. Nova felt a subtle warmth inside of her, since he was probably the first person to talk to her without jumping straight to her services. He didn't even want her services. This was probably what drew her to him right now; it was probably why she didn't walk out on him, telling him expletively how repulsive he might have been.
"Heard you were going to Rivet City," he then said.
"Oh, that?" she remembered. "Yeah. Well, no. Actually, I'm not sure."
"You should go," he said. "It's better than this place. Even heard Tenpenny's still opting to set the bomb off."
"Yeah, but," she shrugged with uncertainty. "Well…what other job would I get? I'm probably just going to do this again. I'm just replacing the same system with a similar one, right?"
He shook his head. "You look like you're better at other things. You've got that air around you."
Nova finished her cigarette and tossed it down to the city below.
"Usually, other men don't take time to notice."
"It's intoxicating," he charmingly remarked. "Who you are is not what you do…or who you do…"
She openly laughed at his comment because of the strange way it was delivered.
"Thanks."
The man then looked at his watch and sighed, half-disappointed that he couldn't stick around longer. "Well, it's getting late, and I'm falling behind schedule."
"You should get going, then. Wouldn't wanna keep you."
Before he left, he held his hand out to her, to which she stared strangely. Rarely did she ever receive a gesture of friendship.
"What's your name?" he then asked.
Nova cautiously shook his hand. "Nova. My name's Nova."
"I'm Garrick," he said. "Maybe I'll see you around some time."
Nova's expression fluttered for a moment.
"Sure thing, babe."
And with a final nod the strange man, Garrick, turned away and left, lost into the scraps of Megaton. She was a cynical one, though. Maybe she wouldn't see him again. Sighing, she turned away and walked back inside, still thinking about the stranger she had just met minutes ago. Making her way up the stairs, she planned to visit Moriarty.
The waters ran fresh. Yes they did.
When she opened the door to his room, the smell of cigarette smoke emanated from the ashtray on the small table. Was someone in here? Moriarty was sleeping, though in a strange position. Maybe he had a nightmare and needed a drag. But she could feel that someone other than her boss was in here. Stepping a few feet closer to the Irishman, she examined his body, and noted the two holes located in his sternum. Her breathing quickened as she turned around towards the table and noted two bullet shells resting about on the floor. Nova picked one of them up and inspected it. Her father was a mercenary, and before he was killed, he trained her in the combat arts every day. She would at least know what kind of bullets they were. Customized .45 ACPs.
She turned back to Moriarty and stared with ghastliness, her now-pale face drained of blood. The night felt even colder than it had. Gob rushed upstairs when he heard her stumble over the chair, falling to the ground. He came up and inspected her, then noticed the dead body.
So, Garrick was a killer after all. Funny, since he had admitted it to her earlier.
All the hope in her life had died at that moment. She had deceived herself in believing that he wasn't a murderer. Everything that she had believed in—Project Purity, the generosity of strangers, the goodness of people—had vanished. Nova shook her head. She hated everything now, for some reason, since she felt betrayed. It seemed now that she would have to either run the saloon with Gob or find work somewhere else. Her entire world seemed to crumble beneath her feet.
The waters ran fresh. But the future was uncertain.
And the man even told the truth. What a funny, funny world.
AN: Just wanted to let you know that Nova will NOT be a central character to the story. Sorry if you were interested. I just wanted to introduce you to my original character, Garrick, and how he affects people around him (in this case, Nova). There's a slight twist to him, and I'll probably reveal it later in the story. Please review, guys. I'd like to know what you think. If the reception is good by the next few chapters, I might pull this one through.