PSL post for daughterless

[leanonstuff]

[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.]

Comments

[daughterless]

[After many years of smuggling runs and many dead raiders, Joel and the Fiends have come to an understanding. It goes something like: I won't try to kill you if you don't try to kill me (oh, and sometimes we supply each other with drugs). It's held up okay so far, and he can move through their territories without too much harassment, which is why, he assumes, he was the one who got contacted for this job.

Retrieval isn't really his specialty, but hell, pickings had been slim lately and the promise of a fat stack of caps (with a hefty up-front payment) had been tempting enough that he doesn't bother inquiring too closely into why some fat cat collector wants a hundred-something year old bottle of irradiated whiskey. The Vault itself is already unsealed and surprisingly full of goods worth grabbing-- someone had cleared this place in a hurry and hadn't bothered cleaning up after themselves. He's picking things up as he goes, taking his time to thoroughly search the place when he hears the creak of the infirmary door and immediately ducks behind a low table.

Who was it, some cracked out Fiend looking for a safe place to shoot up? The man entering the room looks the part, but doesn't move like he's high out of his mind. Eyes narrowing, Joel draws his own pistol, creeping forward... and CRUNCH goes an empty syringe under his boot.

Shit.]

Part 3

[leanonstuff]

[It had taken some more time and scavenging for health items before Joel was well enough to travel again. Sure, those wounds would take awhile to be fully healed, but at least they could move closer to their ordinary pace and take appropriate action to hide if they see any threats ahead.

Since escaping the Deathclaws, Norman has been particularly careful not to be caught doing anything suspicious. Whenever he finds more Med-X, he makes sure to keep the extra hidden entirely, allowing Joel to hold onto the rest. He hasn't said anything about what happened in that train station either, concerning the sudden and unexpected display of affection... but he has been sneaking more glances at his companion since then.

And so, a few days later when they find another abandoned home to spend the night, Norman goes to sit on the same mattress as Joel despite there being two in the room. He doesn't know what to say at first, how to ask if this is okay. So for the moment, he just sits there and waits to see if he gets shooed away.]