Norman Jayden (
leanonstuff) wrote2011-10-14 08:21 pm
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PSL post for daughterless
[The NCR had sent Norman to the Vault because the area was surrounded by Fiends, and he was damn good at blending among the various "criminal" groups around the Mojave. No way an ordinary NCR trooper would be able to get inside without being attacked. And according to their intelligence, exactly what was inside was of such great importance that they couldn't possibly wait to go after it just in case Caesar's Legion got wind of it and acted first. Norman was searching for a box of special bottles that appeared to be beer or vodka bottles, but were actually filled with a chemical that, when introduced into a water supply, could spread a deadly bacteria that would wipe out anyone who drank the contaminated water for at least a month.
Unfortunately, finding the bottles was turning out to be far more difficult that Norman had anticipated. He'd gotten into the Vault in the first place by wearing old, torn and dirty clothes that could pass as those a typical raider or Fiend might wear. He'd even bought a few chems from them to help gain their trust (and to use them later, though he planned to tell the NCR that he'd disposed of them instead). The Vault seemed to be empty of Fiends, luckily, but he wasn't too optimistic that he wouldn't eventually run into ghouls or worse.
10mm pistol in hand, Norman opens the door to the Vault infirmary, hoping he might have some more luck locating the bottles in there.]
Unfortunately, finding the bottles was turning out to be far more difficult that Norman had anticipated. He'd gotten into the Vault in the first place by wearing old, torn and dirty clothes that could pass as those a typical raider or Fiend might wear. He'd even bought a few chems from them to help gain their trust (and to use them later, though he planned to tell the NCR that he'd disposed of them instead). The Vault seemed to be empty of Fiends, luckily, but he wasn't too optimistic that he wouldn't eventually run into ghouls or worse.
10mm pistol in hand, Norman opens the door to the Vault infirmary, hoping he might have some more luck locating the bottles in there.]
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You workin' for the NCR?
[There's an ugly, accusatory growl to his words, and it's very clear that this is going to be a problem, but they're already full up on problems, and
Joel exhales sharply, shaking his head to reorient himself. Where the hell are they? Hardly a stone's throw from Camp McCarran (fucking NCR, he should have known), to the... west.]
There's a cave to the south. It's [a personal smuggling den of his, but beggars can't be choosers] hidden. That way! [He gives Norman a none-too-gentle shove to direct him.]
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[Though he can tell it's going to be important judging by Joel's reaction. He hasn't shot him or left him behind, however, so there's something to be said about that.
A cave to the south? Okay... yeah. Good. Norman stumbles when he's shoved, but runs off in that direction once he's gotten his balance back. It's good that the Rangers started shooting before they'd gotten closer, since it gives them a chance to get around the rocks and into the cave before they're sighted. Once inside, Norman leans back against the rock wall to catch his breath; or at least try to. Goddamn, if he doesn't want another fucking Med-X. But no, not now. He doesn't want to overdose or anything.]
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There's the sound of metal against rock, a spark, and then a small flame appears in a lamp full of brahmin oil, its dim light casting long shadows across the room. The room itself is full of sacks and crates full of various items, everything covered in dust and the evidence of rough living. The lamp also illuminates Joel, now pointing his gun at Norman.]
Think I'm about overdue for an explanation. [And it better be a damn good one, from the implacable tone in his voice, and the hard look on his face.]
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Yeah. [He breathes out slowly, heart still racing. Maybe if he could have a moment without a goddamn gun pointed at him, he'd be able to calm down and talk.]
Lower the gun, alright? I'm not going anywhere.
[In fact he goes to sit down, just to make his peaceful intentions all the clearer. What's there to keep secret now? If the NCR wants him dead, he has nothing to go back to anymore. Norman's isn't sure that the enormity of the situation has sunk in just yet.]
Yeah, I work for the NCR. Or did... doesn't look like they want me around anymore. [He lets out a short, humorless laugh.] They sent me to retrieve these bottles on account of the biological hazard they contain. They thought if the Legion got hold of them, they'd poison all the waters around Vegas and kill off thousands of people. Said they weren't gonna use them themselves... but now I'm not so sure.
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And you believed 'em?
[Contempt again. Joel never expects anything less than the very worst from big military groups. Legion, NCR-- different levels of brutality, maybe, but in the end they're all the same.]
What were you, freelance? Some contractor? Or one of the pet soldiers they shipped in from the coast? [If nothing else, he didn't seem like a hardened merc for hire. Didn't have the stomach for it.]
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Of course I trusted them. I was born in the NCR. Grew up there... my parents both fought and died serving the NCR army. I've been with them for years now. I mostly do missions like this one, espionage... finding out about their enemies before they strike. That kinda thing.
[In other words: not a front line kind of guy. He kills in the course of those missions if he has to, but always prefers to find another way. Norman has always thought all the best of the NCR, seeing as they're bringing civilization to the Wasteland. But if they mean to use these chemicals... then, well, he doesn't know what to think.]
I'm sorry you got tangled up in all of this, I really am. But if they've seen you with me, you're gonna be in trouble too.
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That doesn't mean he isn't feeling damn spiteful.]
Well, ain't that loyalty for you. Guess they got all they needed out of you, thought it was time to cut their losses. [He scoffs, shaking his head.] Unbelievable.
[He can't believe this guy's gotten him dragged into this. And with the NCR, of all people. But now they're faced with a whole batch of problems, and being pissed doesn't solve a damn thing.]
The hell are we supposed to do with these bottles?
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Bet they didn't want me around if they plan to use them... since I could spread word about it.
[Problems, problems everywhere. How to even begin solving them? Norman removes Joel's pack and places it beside him, glancing at it thoughtfully.]
Well, we can't have the Legion or the NCR get hold of them now. So... we'll have to protect them.
[He doesn't know about destroying them. Seems like that'd only release the chemicals, and he doesn't want any accidental deaths.]
Feel like playing the hero? [His tone is a bit snide, but the question is in all seriousness. Does someone like Joel give a shit about something like this? Or will he leave the burden on Norman's shoulders alone? The guy doesn't seem to care too much about morality, but then again he did leave Norman alive at the vault when killing him would've been easier. It's difficult to say what Joel's thinking.]
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I ain't no hero. And there is no "we" in this plan. You wanna stick your neck out and play dodge-the-bullet with the NCR and the Legion, then be my guest. But hell if I'm joinin' in.
[That said, he hasn't really thought through the implications of having a free-floating bioweapon either. As far as Joel can see, this is still someone else's problem.]
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And I'm no great fighter. The Legion or NCR catches up with me, they'll take the bottles and poison the water supply around here. Then not only are you gonna die, but plenty of other innocent people will as well.
Do you want that kinda responsibility on your shoulders? 'Cause you sure come off as a hardass, but you haven't killed me yet to get me outta your hair. So I think there's still some humanity in you, unlike most of the shitheads in this world.
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Trust me. I'm not makin' that mistake again.
[But the bit about death by dramatic water poisoning is.... well, it's not out of the question. Really not out of the question, given what he knows and has come to expect of Legion and NCR alike. Joel scowls. He could always leave, if he had to. Hell, what kind of smuggler would he be if he couldn't pack up shop and move cross-country at the drop of a hat? Why get involved? But (the thought is cold, like a sliver of ice in his chest), doesn't he knows better than anyone else-- being innocent, not being involved, staying out of the way, that was no guarantee you'd be out of the line of fire.
What the hell is he thinking? He can't seriously be considering...]
You want someone to help you save the world? Well, you are lookin' at the wrong person.
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Shit, Joel. If there was someone else I'd go to them for help, but there isn't.
[The impact of the NCR's betrayal is gradually starting to hit him. It makes sense now, why they'd send him in for this job. Norman isn't the only one trained to do these sorts of missions, but unlike the others, he has no family to speak of, and no real friends either. Most people find his company awkward and basic conversations with him turn uncomfortable quick enough. Maybe the NCR found out about his addiction too, and decided he was particularly expendable.]
The NCR was all I had. I don't have any family or friends to turn to. You have to help me.
[Norman doesn't like to plead, but this is a really serious situation here. If he fails to protect those bottles, all those deaths will be on his shoulders. There's no way he could live with himself if that happened.]
fuck my new vegas is so rusty i had to go hunting down maps and everything
I don't have to do shit so you can feel like a big damn hero.
[Joel lets go with a sound of disgust, turning away. His shoulders are shaking with-- fury, irritation, indignation, and something infinitely more raw and bitter, like memory, back when he'd been responsible for something-- someone. The weight of it had nearly crushed him. But god fucking damnit, Jayden isn't all wrong, either. Joel doesn't want to be within a hundred miles-- no, two hundred miles-- of whatever place the NCR or Legion chooses to nuke, and he doesn't want to just hand the bottles over to them on a platter either. Shit. Inevitability tastes like ashes in his mouth.]
Fuck. I'll get you as far east as Boulder City. After that, we're calling it quits, and you're on your own.
I just played it and I still have to look for maps
The eventual offer to help out a little surprises him as well. Thing is, Norman doesn't know what he'd do after getting to Boulder City. There are NCR all over that place, and he doesn't know how quickly word will spread that he's a target.]
...Yeah. Alright. [Maybe during the journey he can convince Joel to agree to more. Anything can happen in that amount of time, as he's learned today.] Thanks.
My name's Norman, by the way. Jayden's my last name.
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[The reaction is automatic, his voice flat. Joel isn't doing the man a favor so much as he's... making a guarantee for his own survival. Yeah. Put that way, it makes a whole lot more sense (but who's he kidding, it doesn't make any sense at all.) As expected, the man hadn't been entirely honest about his name either, but that's small potatoes after the wringer he'd just run on him. ]
And the name's still Joel.
[So he'd agreed to run an operation cross-state, going up against the Legion and the NCR... and with an NCR spy, no less. Joel can't believe he'd signed up for this; he must be losing his mind. He exhales noisily, running his hands through his hair. First order of business: get the hell out of this cave without getting shot. Or worse.]
You're the NCR man. How do you s'pose they'll track us?
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[Norman doesn't care why he's doing it, so long as he does. He's pretty sure the pressure of doing this alone would crush him, and he'd be caught before he could even begin to figure out a solution to the problem.]
Huh. Surprised you gave me your real name.
[Personally, he would prefer to spend a bit more time in the cave before going back out there at the risk of dodging another hail of bullets.]
They'll look around this area for a bit longer, then probably head to the nearest settlements and pit stops. We should wait a bit before heading out.
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Huh. Figures. Still, we can't stick around for too long. [He isn't opposed to waiting it out, but the sense of being caged, of being driven into a corner itches at him. It would only take one foot soldier coming across the hatch in the ground for this place to turn into a death trap. Better yet, if they had a mine or frag grenade to hook up to the door, he and Norman be in a world of pain even before they could get a gun out long enough to shoot...
Joel shakes his head, trying to clear out the visions of worst-case scenarios out of his head. Hell, this isn't like him. (Like Bill, maybe.) They'd deal with their problems one at a time. His eyes fall on the crates and storage lockers scattered throughout the dim cave -- this was one of his better stashes. He'd had contacts within McCarran itself, sneaking out guns, ammo, whatever wouldn't be missed, and now it might come in handy against their former owners. Joel can appreciate the irony in that.]
Hey-- pass me my pack. And [...a short but noticeable pause before he gives a little wave at the contents of teh room.] help yourself to whatever you need.
[As reluctant as he might be to hand out his hard stolen earnings, he doesn't stint on his partners... not that Jay-- no, Norman, is a partner now, but they are running a mission together and he isn't about to get himself killed 'cause he'd been too stingy about stimpacks.]
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He also takes the chance to look at the supplies in the little cave. Probably a lot of contraband... stuff that he'd report to the NCR if it wasn't clear that he'd lost his status among the group. Norman feels another twinge of pain just at the thought of it, at the betrayal and loss. He always thought the NCR were nothing but the 'good guys'. He was idealistic in a world he had no business being idealistic in, and now it's come back to kick him in the gut. At least he still has some purpose... dealing with these bottles. He'll have to cling to that for now.
Joel's generous offer surprises him. Maybe Norman's assessment about Joel is right. There really is something human still there, and he is going to try his best to appeal to that as they go along.]
Thanks. [In a sign of trust, Norman hands Joel his pack without first unloading the bottles. Never mind that Joel could have him dead pretty easily if he didn't want him to do so. He actually does trust that the other man won't betray him this time.
After glancing around he finds a crate of sarsaparilla and grabs a bottle. Only after the first sip does he realize how thirsty he is.]
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There's a dusty crowbar on the floor, and he picks it up and uses it to pry open up one of the crates. The lid opens with a low creak, revealing it to be filled top to bottom with neatly stacked assault rifles.
Joel picks one up, thumbs around it, and grimaces. He can't get back to his usual hideout, with his usual equipment-- that maybe ten miles north and west, the opposite direction of where they were headed, but most of the stuff here was older, battered weapons that needed some work before they would be good for anything.]
You any good at repairing or modding guns?
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Norman steps over to the crate, glancing at the old rifles. He's good enough with a rifle, but those really don't look like they're in the best shape... a few shots might put an end to them. Fortunately, Norman is pretty good at fixing things up; it's one of the skills his superiors emphasized went well with his sort of career path. When you're infiltrating enemy lands, sometimes you need to work with whatever you can find.]
I'm okay at it.
[He picks up one of the guns, places it to the side, then grans another. Yeah... he can probably fix these up to make a couple decent ones. Nothing spectacular, but more workable than what they have.]
Give me a little while and I should be able to fix something up for us.
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Alright, then you get started up on these. [He picks up the crowbar again, intending to go open up a few more crates, then glances back at Norman.] I know you're a good hand 'round lockpicks. Got any other tricks up your sleeves?
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Tricks? Hmm. I'm a decent shot, but that's not exactly a trick. I'm not bad at sneaking around, and I can disable traps pretty easily too. Just don't ask me to do anything really heavy-handed. I'm also okay at blending in with other groups, as long as I don't have to talk to them.
[In other words, he has pretty high small guns, lock pick, sneak and repair. His strength, endurance, speech and charisma are rubbish usually, but occasionally he manages to blurt out a passable lie or bash a guy's brains in, like he'd done earlier with the Legion.]
What about you?
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....killing people, for the most part. The thought doesn't make him wince, though it might have, some years back. It puts him at a high for guns large and small, sneak, melee, and he's passing decent with repair and explosives. Joel's also got high strength, endurance, and perception going for him, but.... not much else. And especially not luck.]
I know my way round guns, bombs, bashing in heads. ...Mostly killin' folks before they kill you.
[There might have been a slight edge to his voice-- he hasn't forgotten that when it comes down to it, Norman was too squeamish to do what needed to be done.]
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Sounds like we'd make a good team.
[There's also a hint of sarcasm in his tone, as he's starting working on fixing up one of the rifles. In all honesty, he probably needs someone like Joel to make it around alive with those bottles, but he isn't incredibly impressed that the man's talents are all related to killing people. Suppose there could be more that he just isn't saying if he's really playing up the hardass mercenary angle, or maybe he really hasn't had a chance to pick up less violent skills during a day-to-day lifestyle in the Mojave.]
If you're good with explosives, we should try get our hands on some landmines. Not a bad idea to set them around the entrance of wherever we're hiding out.
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regretsmisdeeds all over the place, but "teaming up" with an NCR man-- even ex-NCR, given the circumstances, is... well, not LAST on his list of 'shit never to do', but it's pretty far down there.]I mostly worked with the home-brewed stuff-- bottlecap mines, nail bombs, nuka-grenades... [when he could find enough nuka-cola quantums to scrape together a batch, which wasn't often.] Your regular garden-variety landmines, I can set no problem. Could also rig up a couple of tripwires as insurance when we camp out for the night.
[He's opened up a whole batch of crates by now, and is pulling out battered shotguns, setting them to one side with a grimace-- after the pistol, combat shotguns are his preferred weapon of choice, and he'll need to patch one up into some semblance of good repair before they clear out. Joel prefers stealth to a full frontal attack, but when it's all guns blazing, there's nothing quite like having a shotgun at hand to smear your enemies across the walls.]
Think they'll have cleared out by dawn, or are we stuck here for another day or two?
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