milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

ellen park,
voodoo

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There are things that have to be done around the Citadel despite there being a war on. One of them, today, involved following Knight-Captain Colvin on a long walk in the dark, through the Metro tunnels that offer the only reliable access to Arlington.

There are really only so many ways to conduct a funeral. Especially when all you can bring with you is ashes.

That was most of today. The rest of today involved readying for an escort mission along with two Paladins, starting at Rivet City. The amount of water being shipped from the purifier to Megaton is going to need a lot of strong backs, and Rivet City is the easiest place to hire them. And to justify having four or five more added to the herd without anyone wondering where they came from.

All of which is a long way of saying that Ellen clanks into the Bar in her power armor today. "Bar?" she says. "Can I leave a note for the stable managers? When I go home tonight I'm going to be taking four of the Brahmin with me, and I don't want anyone to think they've been stolen."

Once the arrangements've been made, she gets herself and Dogmeat some lunch. They're not going to have the luxury of stopping once they get the water Brahmins under way back home. For now, she could be bothered.

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She might see Voodoo nursing a beer close by.

He looks like he has an anecdote or two to share.

Oh, this should be interesting. Ellen doesn't see any reason not to head over to his table. He'll no doubt hear her coming; T-45d power armor isn't really known for its stealth capabilities.

"Hi, Voodoo."

Voodoo looks up. "Hey."

He's not feel particularly loquacious today.

He takes a swig of beer, then nods to her power armor.

"So what've you been up to?"

Fortunately, Ellen still has the same tendency to talk that she did back when she first met Doc Hoff, her first day on the surface. It makes up for others' quiet.

"We conducted a funeral today," she says, "at Arlington. It took most of the day, but when it was over several of us got dispatched for an escort mission. I've just come in from verifying that everything's loaded and ready to head out."

Voodoo nods before taking another sip. There's a short pause.

"An 18-year old freelance inventor tried to seduce me."

Beat.

"Yesterday. I think."

".... um?"

This is Ellen's 'wut?' face. This is also Ellen sticking one finger in her ear and wiggling it around just in case there was some kind of crud deposit that could've distorted Voodoo's words.

"Did... I hear that right?"

"Yep."

Beat.

"She didn't leave much room for interpretation."

Another swig, this one finishing the bottle. A waitrat comes up, but Voodoo waves him off.

Ellen has to sit down- carefully, the chairs here aren't all designed to stand up to her armor's weight- and think about this.

"That's... I'm sorry, I honestly don't mean to be insulting or anything, but... did she have a reason?" she finally says. "I mean, I'm sure you're awfully appealing to women closer to your own age but I'm nineteen and...."

Aaaaand she's just not seeing it, but there's no polite way to say that.

"Huh."

Voodoo shrugs. "You know as much as I do. One minute I'm training her robots in room clearing and hand-to-hand, next I'm in her apartment and she's winking at me and posing."

He leans back and stretches.

"Told her I had a decade on her, but it didn't seem to bother her much."

Now that's the part that puzzles him.

Ellen shakes her head. "I don't know. If it was my world I could maybe understand it. I mean, there's just not that many healthy men out there and procreation is a civic duty, you know? But... that's not the case here. That's just weird."

Voodoo shrugs. "In less than a month met some guy with a thing for his crowbar, a jarhead with a thing for longbows, a girl with retractable subdermal claws, and a sprite."

He pauses.

"Almost got shot by that pregnant chick, too. But what's really strange is that this is probably the incident that's going to stick with me the longest."

"Oh, you've met X?" Ellen says. "With the claws? She's really good at what she does..."

She rubs at the back of her neck, thinking.

"Well- meeting strange people is just kind of... it's weird stuff and you can sort of go 'oh, that's Milliways' and kind of not think about it, you know? But someone trying to- you know-" She waves one hand, looking a little embarrassed. "I guess that could happen anywhere, not just here. All it needs is somebody with the right frame of mind. So it's not something you can dismiss as just being Milliways at work, right?"

Voodoo shakes his head. "Guess not."

Beat.

"Wait, you know X?"

Oh, shit. Ohshitohshitohshit.

"Sure. I haven't talked to her in a few days, though. Why?"

"No reason," Voodoo lies.

Shit. She knows the only person who can see right through my cover.

Fuck.

"She's a little hard to get used to," Ellen says, completely misinterpreting any indicators of Voodoo being less than happy with the situation, "but she's all right, really. I think she's busier in her world than I am in mine, so I don't see her often.

Voodoo shrugs. "Them's the breaks. So this convoy you're escorting. Has it been getting raided or are you just going through dangerous territory?"

Abrupt subject change is abrupt.

Eh, she kind of expects that sort of lack of sequitur by now.

"More the second than the first. There's been both Enclave and raider sightings along the route from Rivet City to Megaton, and even when there's not, there's been a lot of radscorpions and other wildlife this year."

She pauses for a moment, remembering-

"Radscorpions are about as long as that table over there, although sometimes there are bigger ones. Up to about twice as long."

So basically the largest of them are the size of a Buick.

That prompts a low whistle from Voodoo.

"They can't be easy to take down."

"They're not. They've got tough carapaces, too- more natural armor than anything else in the Wasteland," Ellen says. "Between their stinger poison and their claws, they're as dangerous to the caravan Brahmins as any human with a gun."

Voodoo leans back and thinks for a bit.

"How big's this convoy?"

"Five or six cattle, each carrying as many drums of water as they're physically able," Ellen says. "This is the initial one. After this there'll be smaller ones on a more frequent basis until a more defensible water transportation strategy can be worked out."

"How many shooters have you got riding with you?"

He's no bovine expert, but he's pretty sure five or six cattle would make a hell of a racket.

"Three other Knights, two Paladins, and three Rivet City security officers," Ellen says. "And one caravaneer for each animal."

"Not a bad complement."

Of course, Voodoo hasn't pulled convoy security in a while, but he knows a good setup when he sees one.

"I just hope that Gunny guy ran you through some counter-ambush drills."

"Yeah, the Brotherhood has a pretty strong policy about training for that kind of thing," Ellen says. "They lost several early leaders that way, right after the War. They've gotten very careful about it now."

"Sounds like a plan."

He pauses, then stands up.

"I'll be at the firing range if you need me. Gotta stay sharp. Good luck, kid. Keep your head on a swivel."

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