milliways_bar | (no subject)

Ellen had once helped a firefighter who'd fallen right through the ceiling. It's only fair that this firefighter help the paladin find her land legs.

"Hey, whoa! What's the matter?"

Tommy reaches out to steady her, armor and all, and tries to at least guide her in the direction of the restrooms. She's staggering like a drunk, but this is Ellen, and he's not going to assume anything yet.

"Boat," says Ellen, who's too busy keeping her eyes on the floor ahead of her feet to notice much else. "Rough water. Upanddownandupanddown."

The rough, uneven ground of the Capital Wasteland was a completely alien experience to her when she stepped out of Vault 101, but she'd adapted to it eventually. Oh, she'd tripped and fallen plenty of times in the beginning, but in the end she got used to it. Why? Because it DIDN'T MOVE.

Stupid boats.

He grimaces. "Ahh, crap. Okay. Take it easy now. I'll get you some Dramamine. Are you gonna puke?"

Making sure she doesn't careen into any furniture or patrons, he gets her to the door of the ladies' room. A waitrat stands by with a mop.

Edited 2013-06-30 15:52 (UTC)

"I might," admits Ellen, who is trying very hard not to. "Don't wanna."

But then there's the ladies' room in front of her, and she just bolts. She'll be back out in a few minutes, still looking miserable- but at least she'll be empty, and no longer a risk.

"Sorry 'bout that."

Tommy takes in a sympathetic breath when she makes a break for the bathroom, as the waitrat shrugs and disappears with the mop. While Ellen's in there, though, Tommy goes to the bar and orders a vial of Dramamine and a bottle of Gatorade (the green flavor). She returns looking marginally better.

"It's okay, I've seen worse. And anyway, it's for the best that you did puke. Gets everything outta your system."

He hands her a couple tablets and cracks open the bottle of Gatorade.

"Take this. They're motion sickness pills, should help settle your stomach. The green stuff rehydrates you."

Ellen nods wordlessly and swallows the pills. The Gatorade gets a brief look, then a shrug, before she takes a long swig. Heck, it's not glowing, it can't be that bad.

"'nk you," she manages when she puts the bottle down. "Guh. We've still got a day and a half to go..."

"Another day and a half? On a boat? Jeez. You better take the rest of the Dramamine with you. Where're you going that you hafta take a boat?"

"Somewhere called Point Lookout," Ellen says. "South of DC. It's- it's not on our maps. Two paladins went to investigate the place and they haven't come back or sent messages, so Elder Lyons wants them found." She swallows; she might be off the boat, but as far as her ears are concerned the room's still moving, even though she knows damn well that it's not. "And if we can't find them then he wants us to at least find out what happened to them."

"Goddamn. That sure don't sound like a pleasure cruise."

Point Lookout, south of DC. Sounds familiar, but Tommy isn't that well-versed in state parks, Civil War history, or haunted lighthouses of his day.

"Any idea what the area's like or what kinda people live there? If there's anybody out there at all?"

"All we know is that there's a whole tribe out there, and that they've got access to more water than we do," Ellen says. "About a month and a half ago a boat showed up at the docks on the Arlington side of the Potomac for the first time in living memory. The pilot was a man named Tobar, and he had crates and crates of this... weird fruit... to sell. Said the tribals out there grow the stuff, some for themselves, some for trade. So there's got to be a pretty fair amount of water, because those fruits were a lot squishier and a lot more water-dependent than mutfruit. Tobar said the tribals were kind of weird and didn't like to leave their land, but they'd traded with him for a while, so they were pretty good with outsiders."

Tommy frowns as he listens. "So, your guys who went to investigate-- how long've they been gone? You don't think the tribals can get, y'know, hostile or whatever, right?"

He would make a reference to Brando in Apocalypse Now, but she probably wouldn't get it.

"Something like a month," Ellen says. "Paladins Whydah and Morgan were both pretty heavily armed and armored when they left. Like-" She indicates her own gear: a full set of Tesla armor, a rifle that means serious business, a squarish-looking pistol of sorts (no clip, just a socket on the side for energy cells), and a sword. "Unless it's a really advanced tribe, they'd have to outnumber the paladins by a ridiculous amount to have a chance of getting through. We're more worried that they might be trapped somewhere and out of ammo."

Edited 2013-06-30 23:14 (UTC)

"Jeezus."

He scratches his chin in thought.

"Yeah, maybe they just-- got lost. For a month. But that's pretty goddamn lost, though, if you're lost for a month. Did they have a guide with them? This Tobar guy, maybe?"

Ellen shakes her head. "Tobar says sticking around anywhere for very long is bad for business," she says. "He makes more profit if he only stays in an area long enough to sell his cargo and pick up whatever goods he might be trading somewhere else. He dropped the paladins off and went to get his boat loaded, and that was the last he saw of them. As far as I know, they haven't got a guide with them. Neither do we- I'm doing this at Star Paladin Cross's command- but we're bringing Dogmeat, who's a pretty good tracker, and I've got a pair of goggles from Milliways that let me see scent trails, so we should at least be able to follow our own back to familiar ground if something goes wrong."

"Ah, Dogmeat. What a trooper he is, huh? Well, sounds like you've got a plan, let's just hope it all comes together."

No A-Team reference here.

"Is this your first time on a boat?"

Ellen nods miserably. "Rivet City doesn't count," she says. "It doesn't move. It hasn't moved since the war. This is the first boat boat I've ever even seen, let alone been on."

"Heh, well, guess I don't hafta ask what your first impression was, given the state you're in. But what d'you mean by Rivet City not-- moving?"

"Oh- it's built in the remains of an aircraft carrier," Ellen says. "It was broken in half during the War. I imagine it must have moved once, because it was a boat, a very big one. There's still airplanes on parts of the deck, even. It's just that the boat itself doesn't move these days."

"Oh. Wow. Way to repurpose an aircraft carrier."

He tries to wrap his head around the concept. For an outsider, it must be a pretty awesome sight, even if the place is a grim and depressing wasteland.

Ellen nods. "The remains of the old Navy research institute apparently moved in there first," she says. "Other people followed after. It's the biggest settlement in the Wasteland. Megaton doesn't even come close, even now that they're starting to expand outside the city walls."

"No kiddin'. So, Megaton must be like a village compared to this place, huh? Ever thought of living there?"

"Nnnnnot really?" says Ellen, a little doubtfully. "Rivet City is nice and all, and it's probably the safest place to live in the Wasteland, but... Megaton is the first place I met anybody who wasn't trying to kill me, once I was out of the Vault. They gave me a place to live. Some of them are crazy, sure, but most of them are all right- some of them have even had me conduct their weddings. I don't really want to leave that, you know?"

"Fair 'nough," he says, bobbing his head in a nod. "Sounds reasonable to me. Like they say, home is where they don't kill you. Well. No, nobody ever says that, but still. Anyways-- wait, you can conduct weddings?"

"And funerals, and a few other ceremonies," Ellen says, nodding. "I was ordained as a Brotherhood of Steel chaplain this past year. If we were still beholden to the High Elders in California I wouldn't be allowed to offer those services to the people in Megaton, but Elder Lyons has different rules about interacting with Wasteland communities, and Mayor Simms said it was fine by him if I did weddings in Megaton when people asked about it."

"Oh, well, that's cool. Not the funerals thing, but-- I guess it comes with the job an' all. But it looks like you're really part of that community. That's a good thing. Probably what people really need out there."

Ellen nods again. "One more reason moving to Rivet City isn't likely," she says. "Between that, and the kids from Lamplight who live outside the city walls now, and the print works I helped Moira set up, and needing somewhere to feed my cows, Megaton's pretty much where I'm going to be for the foreseeable future. Once I get back from this mission, I mean."

"Right, you probably can't raise cattle on an aircraft carrier... Anyways, has your boat docked somewhere or did you come in right off the water?"

"Right off the water," Ellen says. "Star Paladin Cross is in the cabin with her back against the wall. Dogmeat thinks it's the greatest thing in the world- he had his paws up on the railing and his tongue hanging out of his mouth, the last I saw of him."

He has to chuckle a bit at that. "Like I said, that Dogmeat's a trooper. How 'bout you? Those pills should've kicked in right about now. Think you're good to go back yet?"

Ellen considers, then sighs. "It doesn't matter if the floor hasn't stopped moving yet," she says, "does it? It's just going to happen again as soon as I go back. I suppose I might as well."

"Well, at least you won't puke. --Dry heaving, maybe."

Not something to look forward to!

"Keep these pills handy, though. And on your return trip home, be sure to take 'em before you get back on the boat, but then again, you might be a little more used to it by then. Or not."

Ellen nods. "Anything that makes the trip easier is a good thing," she says fervently. "Dad told me once that the ancient Koreans had a pretty impressive navy- I honestly don't know how my ancestors did it."

He chuckles, smirking. "Well, at least you've got that. Apparently the only thing that could force the Irish onto boats was a potato famine, so I think it's safe to say that my people were firmly rooted into the ground."

"I met an Irishman in my world once, actually," Ellen says. "Colin Moriarty. He used to run the bar in Megaton. I have no idea why he ended up in the Capital Wasteland, though..."

She sighs and glances at the door.

"I should get going. Whydah and Morgan aren't getting any less lost. Thank you, Tommy."

"Really? He would be running a bar, heh. And hey, who knows, we could be related. It don't matter how many centuries removed, I know I'm gonna find a distant relative in one of these universes one day."

Catching her reluctant glance at the door, he claps her on her armor-plated shoulder and nods.

"No problem. Good luck finding them. And good luck finding your sea legs, too."