Part Two:
She Already Knows.
Since the second battle of the Hoover Dam, Forlorn Hope has improved drastically. The name is almost no longer fitting and, despite the horrors that have occurred here before, it all seems to be improving as the years go by. The dreary haze that had settled here previously has since evaporated - the conditions have improved fiercely and the state of the members of the camp is significantly higher. When the peak of the day hits and the Unit have received their briefing, they've seated themselves in the Mess Hall to escape the blare of the Mojave for a short while. One member needs to have a serious wound patched in his shoulder, seeing as it's compromising certain things; they may be here longer than intended. At least the Mess Hall isn't the empty, soulless place as before. Somebody actually works in the kitchen now, holy hell. Shelves repaired and many things replaced, the soldiers here are slowly gaining themselves a name. And pride.
Boone drags the tin of Pork 'n Beans across the table and stabs at it with his fork, still musing over the chick and the robot. The mill of other troops around him is a slight distraction, but here he feels settled. At the table to the left of him a pair are playing a hand of Caravan, and by the sounds one is losing badly. "I can't find my cards, okay!" The taller of the soldiers exclaims, frowning in clear distress. His friend simply laughs, flapping his cards at him, "Sore loser!"
It's not so bad, is it? Perhaps life in this mad Mojave will improve greatly - evidently Boone would no longer be around, but it's satisfying to think this dangerous world could change in the years after he's been laid to rest. As he aims to bring a mouthful of food upwards the back of his chair is jolted; his lap earns itself Pork 'n Beans. Slowly Boone raises his head and looks over his shoulder at the offender; she's gone, however, as she pushes forwards for the kitchen. It appears a large degree of the soldiers here don't pay high attention to the female with the painted symbol on her armor. Maybe she's known here, or they simply don't care. ED-E, however, drifts in behind her and earns a few unsettled glances. She heads in a bee-line for the kitchen area, somewhat out of breath and clearly urgent - Boone has paused, his fork poised as he watches ED-E buzzing around near the door-way. "I got some stuff." Comes a voice, probably belonging to the female in question.
"Great," Responds the man from the kitchen, "Just pop it all on the shelves over there, I'll check it all over later."
"Okay, see you soon -" She appears again, glancing up at ED-E before she trots through the Mess Hall and disappears outside again. Intending to ask about the robot, Boone sets down his can and presses himself to his feet, mumbling something about the robot, before he sets off after her. The Unit members exchange glances, until the Corporal shrugs, "He's got that look on his face, leave him to it."
Followed by the relentlessly beeping ED-E, the female referred to as 'Harper' trots across the camp at the same pace, waving to a few troops as she goes. She ducks inside the medical tent - how obvious, Craig, how did you miss that? - and Boone comes to a brief halt. He surveys the situation quickly. Potentially, he could unearth something he doesn't want to find. Like more murderous back-stories to add to his current list. But his booted feet carry him onward, the flash of his red beret attracting a small degree of attention as he goes. Pushing one hand forwards he shoves the tent flap aside, crossing the threshold.
The Camp's medical tent is also drastically better. A distinct lack of severed limbs, too. The unhygienic area has been transformed into something considerably efficient. "Morning," Harper states in her dreamy, airy tone, before she pulls off her pack and roots through it vigorously. From the other side of the tent Doctor Richard appears, leaving a patient briefly to see what Harper has brought him. He watches her as she searches through the pack - with a loose smile she produces a large quantity of medical supplies. Stimpacks, leg braces, the works. The Doctor examines these things with his own slight smile; Harper is quick, always quick, and she hounds for the best equipment she can. "This is great, thanks," He states, placing down a stimpack and nodding at Harper, "I'll have this all signed off for you."
"Okay -" With a sharp turn Harper promptly almost walks into Boone, of whom had approached silently. She jolts and takes a hefty step backwards, placing a hand on her slightly too-big helmet to keep it in place. She pushes it back slightly, lifting her head to stare at Boone with wary, pale eyes, before Doctor Richards clocks the sniper. "It's you, Boone right? Traveled with the Courier?"
"Yeah." The word tastes a little thick in his throat, before Boone catches a hold of himself. He gestures to ED-E idly and then points at Harper, asking bluntly, "Where did you get that?"
"ED-E?" Harper replies, looking up at the whizzing Robot, "After Hoover Dam, I got him from the Courier lady - she came here for a while. Said that ED-E needed somebody to take care of him, so she gave him to me. She was strange, drank a lot of whiskey -"
"The Courier." Boone confirms, looking at Harper with incredibly cold, stony eyes. Silence. It suffocates the area between them and Doctor Richards abandons them in order to return to his patients - and to avoid talk of the woman who kept appearing with her alcoholism issues. Shifting her weight from foot to foot Harper finds it hard to meet the gaze of the First Recon sniper. "I suppose..." Her voice is small, but not small as in pathetic, "... You must be the sniper she spoke about?" Her eyes raise sharply and she fixes him with a stare of her own, her head cocked to the side. At this point Boone removes the haze over his thought and surveys Harper properly.
Information:
Name: Evelyn Harper.
Date of Birth: 2250.
Current Affiliation: NCR - Medic, Trooper. ?
Sex: Female.
Race: Human, Caucasian.
She's small, 5'4" at most. A little, slight female with a bony build. The NCR gear is a few sizes too big on her frame, making her seem smaller than she already is. Sharp cheekbones and eyes large in her features; they're pale, more blue than grey, and have that haunted look that a worrying degree of soldiers often have. What Boone can see of her hair he gathers its' dark and pulled back rather than cut short; the gun strapped to her back is a hunting rifle and, judging by the marks through it, that was the Couriers' too. What did the Courier see in this small, wide-eyed girl that possessed her to give away her favored weapon and her robot? Boone is attempting to pick all sorts of faults through with the situation, but he simply cannot find reason to judge the Couriers' decision.
"I'm Evelyn, Evelyn Harper." She breaks his chain of thought when she offers her hand to shake, the sides of her mouth threatening with a smile. Though Boone expands his hand to shake Harpers' he does not return the smile, simply evaluating her based on the greeting - her grip, for a little person, is fierce. Her hand is retracted sharply, as if she cannot stand touching somebody else for too long. "I'm Crai -"
"I know who you are." Harper sidles past Boone, ED-E floating behind her - Boone's stare lingers, his eyes narrowed.