Hey Zero-Vision, you want new chapter you got new chapter! I was going to hold it after proofing, but you hit me in the middle of it. ;)


Ahzrukhal did a double take when the door to his bar opened, before returning his attention to the shabby ghoul in front of him. "Patchwork, I've told you on multiple occasions that when all of your caps are out of your pocket, you are out that door."

"But...see there's oranges I need. Whatzat?"

"Patchwork do you want to leave, or do you want Charon to escort you?" If the poor drunk had had enough skin left to pale, he would have done it. There. That always cuts through sufficiently. Ahzrukal watched him shamble towards the door, only bouncing off the wall once before making it out, and then turned his attention back to the girl. She was balancing on a crutch and peering at his bouncer along with a dog. Both had their heads tilted up. So, the little pet smoothskin had finally strayed into my particular yard. He'd heard Carlo and other less...tolerant residents whining about her for at least the last week and a half. Even Greta had let on that she was annoyed over the attention the kid was giving Carol. The infuriating woman periodically came in to buy a drink and boast about how profitable Carol's Place was becoming. Ahzrukhal was starting to consider how to quietly poison the hag, politics be damned. Word was the kid wasn't too hot to trot on her either. He pondered on how to turn this opportunity to his advantage, watching her try to interact with the leather-clad ghoul in the corner. That was always amusing.

"Hi." Charon grumbled something non-commital and continued to stare at her. "My name is-"

"Talk to Ahzrukhal."

"...Cort. Okay." She looked around questioningly, then back to Charon. "Where...?"

Not quite amusing then. Most people would continue to haunt the bouncer, particularly the non-ghouls who had no personal experience. This kid was being surprisingly mannerly for a smoothskin.

"Over here, smoothskin. He won't say any more than that to you, he can't."

She turned around and limped towards the bar, looking interested. "Oh? Some kind of partial aphasia? Because there's probably at least a few different thera-"

"No, smoothskin, he's been ordered not to. He physically can't because I say so." Ahzrukhal smiled broadly. "Welcome to the 9th Circle, by the way. You need booze, I've got booze. If something a little more, ah, exotic is your particular pick-me-up, I do have a reserve stock of more refined refreshments."

The kid appeared to parse that for a moment, then cocked an eyebrow at him and jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "Do tell. About those and him."


And I wanted to avoid the angst. I just walked into angst city. It's an angst metropolis. Cort stared at the scarred bartop, thinking. If Charon was brainwashed to obey anything Ahzrukhal said, then his protestations over Charon not being a slave were more than a bit hollow, considering he wasn't allowed to move, talk, or probably even piss without permission. Context was one thing, practical application was entirely another. Charon was a slave to him. Cort didn't feel like laughing crazily at this point as she had with Gob's story; what she felt now was positively murderous. Experiencing something horrifying once apparently lent it clarity the second time around. Either that or she was getting used to this shit, God help her. One thing for sure, this time she was going to find the guts to do something about it. There was nothing to be held over her head in this instance.

"So this contract of his, entitles the holder to his complete and loyal service, until you should decide to terminate it?"

"Correct. It's really quite ingenious."

"Tell me, is he any good in combat? Obviously, I'm not making out quite so well on my own." Cort gestured deprecatingly towards her splint. There was no way the ghoul wasn't, for one thing he was huge, and every inch of that was quietly intimidating. She didn't sense any of it was false bravado, either.

"Do I sense some interest in acquiring him? I can tell you now, he is very competent. He is also a very important asset to myself and the 9th Circle." Cort pretended to shift onto her other arm, jingling the caps in her pocket and the contents of her tank top at the same time. Watching his eyes flicker, she smiled. Gotcha. I sense something, too, and it's around my little finger. Wait, ew.

"I'm certain we can come to some sort of mutually beneficial agreement. What did you have in mind?" She listened as Ahzrukhal laid out a plan to kill Greta. While a ghoul, he couldn't expect to have her killed obviously by himself or Charon and not lose even more business, and he somehow had gotten a bead on the animosity between Cort and the woman. Cort, however, was not that pissed off, and there was the question of Carol.

Cort smiled regretfully at him. "Well I couldn't possibly do anything that could put Carol out, she's been a dear to me, you see. Perhaps a monetary arrangement could be made?"

"Weeell. Let me think for a moment. It's not a transaction I want to take lightly, see."

"Oh of 's obviously a very useful piece of property." Any wider and her smile could be classified as a rictus. Ahzrukhal seemed too full of himself to notice the difference, and she noted he didn't correct the distinction of Charon's status this time. I hope to God and little green apples Charon can't hear this. Cort grimaced internally. I always was...am stupidly optimistic. Hurry up, you slimy bastard before I throw up and jinx my act. She had a fair to excellent idea that any impression of altruism over selfish need would jack the price up exponentially. Vomiting would probably raise it into the stratosphere.

Ahzrukhal appeared to come to a decision. "Two thousand caps."

Cort feigned astonishment. "You're dreaming. I don't even know how he'll perform in the field. One thousand."

"Smoothskin, you impugn my honour. Fifteen hundred then."

"You insult my intelligence. I may have fallen out of a Vault, but it was hardly yesterday. One thousand and..." Cort took a wild shot and grabbed his tie, letting it slip through her hand. "All the lovely refined refreshments I find out in the wastes suddenly become strictly yours. With a minor retrieval fee after say, 50 units of each? I go an awful lot of places and kill a lot of awful raiders. Why, you'd be doing me a favour. I have no personal taste for the stuff."

"Deal. I can expect payment..?" He looked at her inquiringly, and with not a little amount of sleaze. Christ, after dealing with Moriarty it's like tap dancing around this guy. Too eager.

"Within the week. It gives me time to recoup the caps spent on the fine medical care I received here and find additional stock for yourself. Call it a bonus for patience. We won't count it towards the quota."

"Excellent doing business with you smoothskin. Now if you'll excuse me, it's closing time." Ahzrukhal was practically dying to crunch the numbers on how far ahead this would put him, and shooed Cort and the dog out of the bar. She had a chance to see Charon's eyes follow her out the door. Oh Christ. Here we go with the 'killing me by brain' again. Damnit.

Cort beat tracks down the stairs with Dogmeat, talking to him. "So great, now Momma's masquerading as a drug runner. And the person she wants to save hates her, and she's not entirely sure if that's a bad thing since half the reason he's appealing is because it's someone who can't dump me without warning so now I have guilt." Brooding for a moment, she continued. "And I don't even make sense to myself anymore now so things are really getting twisted. But maybe I can make up for leaving Gob. Let's go kill stuff." Stifling a giggle, she practically pole vaulted into the Chop Shop, making a line for Barrows.

"Doc, I need this thing off now. It's been long enough."

"I'm stunned you haven't chewed it off yet."

'The splint?" Cort looked down at it.

"Your leg."

"Oh haaa just get the cutters, please."


After redressing Dogmeat and herself, Cort plunged back into the Metro stations. Pausing to repair their armour from a cache she had left, they singlemindedly slaughtered anything that had encroached back into the underground, and stripped off everything that they had killed the first time. Cort returned periodically to sell and trade scrap metal with Winthrop for surplus medical supplies. Quinn had returned with Stimpaks a week prior, but Cort decided to focus mainly on the Rad-Away. She could regenerate continuously after lighting up like a Christmas tree, making it a point to flush her system clean after Patchwork had latched onto her like she was an ambulatory electric blanket the first trip back. When she had depleted the Metro, she turned her attention to the abandoned sections of the History Museum.

This she enjoyed thoroughly. After the experience with Patchwork, she spent hours slinking through crumbling rooms and corridors with Dogmeat, waiting for the feral ghouls to pick up on her radiation levels when they were high, popping them right after they noticed her. Whatever mutation gave her the regeneration, it didn't seem to extend to the ghoul's ability to flush out the excess. Maybe that has something to do with them degenerating on the outside. I should make a point to talk to Barrows over it.

Going through one of the larger offices and doing what was now routine smash and grab, Cort found the most beautiful thing.

"Dogmeat, look at this!" Cort had flipped open a display case after noticing a rifle stock through the dirty glass. Picking it up and running her hands along the barrel, she tilted it to make the dim light dance in the scroll work. "Lincoln, President.. holy sweet crap! Oh I am never ever letting this go. And it's a .44. I knew I'd find something for those bullets eventually. Dogmeat, gimmie the .44s." She reached over as the dog turned and presented a pouch on his other side. "Alright. Let's make her dance."

Dance it did. The gun hit anything Cort aimed it at with wicked precision, and sang while it killed. Finding other Lincoln artifacts, Cort placed them back in the display case, not knowing what to do with them, but wanting to protect them for the moment. If the repeater had managed to stay there, then the smaller things certainly would until she came back.

"I'll bring Dad back here when we find him Dogmeat. He'd love this stuff, and I can introduce him to everyone. Barrows would definitely like that." Cort was wandering down one of the last hallways towards a gated room, sniping the turrets off. The things popped up everywhere in between the ferals and were annoying the hell out of her. Picking the lock on the gate, she slipped into the room. "Let's just get this last bit over with. HEY UGLIES." Cort pulled out a grenade as the hissing started and cocked her arm. Dogmeat started snarling.

"What, it's just ferals, why are you- oh shit. Glowing ones." Cort flung the grenade as hard as she could, then ducked when it ricocheted back at her after hitting the stairwell.

Oops.