leanonstuff | PSL post for daughterless

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.]

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[Joel had immediately reversed direction, sliding back around the other side of the table in hopes of flanking him. He'd been more or less gearing up to shoot the man, but then he calls out and...

Doesn't sound like a raider. Joel's generally good at trusting his gut on these things. He considers shooting anyway, just to be on the safe side, but the go-between for the client had emphasized stealth for the job, and there's no telling what might come investigating at the sound of gunshots.]

Who the hell are you?

[So the man didn't shoot right away... that's a good sign. But this is still a very delicate situation. Norman remains ducked down behind a counter, not about to let his guard down at all just because the man is open to dialogue.]

None of your goddamn business.

[He knows he needs to sound kinda rough if he wants to come off as a Fiend, or a raider at the least. Whoever this is probably is one as well... but he doesn't want to announce any particular affiliation without some sort of confirmation of that fact.]

Just stay outta my way, and I'll stay outta yours. How's that sound?

[Norman doesn't care if someone else raids every last thing or worth from this place so long as he finds the bottles. And how many raiders, Fiends or prospectors have any level of lockpicking skill? Surely the bottles are locked away... it should be fine.]

[Well if that doesn't sound suspicious as all hell. Joel's seen people fight to the death over a casket of fresh water. It's a rare explorer who's willing to live and let live while divvying up the spoils.

But assuming the man means what he said and isn't intending on shooting him in the back as soon as he turns, it's not a bad deal. There's enough useful junk to go around, and he'd waste less ammo on roaches or ghouls if someone else was also clearing them out. Joel is past his raiding days; he's not really interested in adding any more to his body count without reason.

Slowly, Joel rises out of his hiding spot, gun cocked and aimed. He doesn't look much like a raider, or a military man, just a hard-bitten survivor.]

Fine. You got yourself a truce. [For now.]

[When Joel rises to his feet, Norman gets a glimpse of him from his cover. A bit older... definitely doesn't have the look of a raider or a Fiend. And if he's working for Caesar, there's no obvious indication of that either.

Still, he's also suspicious of anyone willing to agree to a truce in these sorts of circumstances. Perhaps against his better judgment, Norman also rises from his cover, though he's prepared to duck back down and shoot at a moment's notice.]

Right.

[And now, he needs to get back to busting into the infirmary safe. Can't do that with this guy breathing down his neck.]

Mind clearing out of here?

[So he could get back to cracking open that safe? Well, it's no skin off his nose. Joel had just been doing a bit of scrounging on the side; he rather doubts he'd be finding some expensive bottles of whiskey or whatever in the doctor's labs. Besides, the safe looked pretty sturdy and his usual methods of breaking locks are limited to grenades and the occasional prybar, neither of which seemed like a viable choice.

He gives Norman a long, hard look, just to emphasize that he isn't about to be dismissed that easily, before making his way to the door.]

Alright, I'll let you have some privacy.

[Nothing in there left for him, he rounds the corner and finds himself in the living quarters. There are beds and blankets strewn everywhere-- oh, and suitcases and lockers too. Perfect for someone's secret booze stash. He starts rummaging with a will, pocketing whatever looks like it might come in handy-- an extra clip of ammo, a stimpack...]

[He lets out a sigh of relief when the other looter clears out without much trouble. Norman didn't want to have to kill him... he didn't seem like such a bad guy. And just in case he was a good shot, it'd be better not to have to do this search while dealing with a bullet hole or two.

It takes a few minutes for him to finally pick the lock, at which point he lets out a groan of disappointment to find it full of nothing but stimpacks and and more Med-X. He pockets one of the stims this time, and leaves the safe open just in case the other guy comes back looking for something useful.

As it turns out, Norman's wanderings also take him to the living quarters. He feels like he's about to have a heart attack when he walks into the same room as Joel, not having seen the man at first in the shadows.]

Fuck! Didn't think I'd run into you again.

[The fact that the guy is still here has him worrying about the possibility of him finding the bottles first. Maybe it'd be best to keep an eye on him... surely he wouldn't know what the bottles were if they found them together, and Norman could bargain to keep them for himself.]

I'm starting to think we should search this place together. Y'know, just so I don't accidentally shoot you next time you startle me.

[Joel had half drawn his pistol at the sound of approaching footsteps before realizing it was the same guy as before. His offer of teaming up is pretty half-hearted, but Joel considers it all the same. He'd run guns and drugs with a partner before, sometimes with good results. And sometimes not so good results, and Joel had needed to bust some kneecaps before wrapping up the deal.

He doesn't know which category this guy falls into: reliable or incompetent, steady or greedy, but Joel supposes it doesn't really make a difference in the end. Friends close. Enemies closer.]

Ain't a bad idea. Might be worth joinin' up, just for the time being.

[But he doesn't like to work with folks til he knows what they're after. A little too casually, he adds:] You looking for anything in particular?

Edited 2013-10-19 05:06 (UTC)

[Likewise, Norman has plenty of experience working in pairs. The NCR often sent troopers out together on missions, because even for someone well-armed and armored, the Wasteland was nowhere to be on one's own. These sorts of missions were special exceptions. Norman knows he's taking a huge risk taking on something like this, but the rewards are too good to pass up.]

Yeah, might as well.

[Joel's question gives him pause, however. His lips form a thin line as he considers his response. If they're looking for the same thing, there might be a problem.]

You know... booze, chems. Whatever I can sell for a nice pile of caps. These Vaults always have the good stuff. Tell you what. You help watch my back, and I'll give you a cut of whatever I find in the safes. Can't get those open yourself, can you?

[And he'll just hope the bottles he's looking for are locked up. That'd give him first dibs on them.]

Works for me.

[Joel shrugs, more or less agreeable, and sets about digging through the next unopened crate. Mentally, he makes a note of that hesitation. The guy's hiding something. Might be important, might not.

He's just turned up a handful of Rad X... a lot of Rad X (who even needs this much?) when there's a shuffling sound and a thump from outside of the room.]

Glad to hear it.

[Norman meanwhile starts rummaging through the dressers and wardrobes. Pre-war clothes... pre-war money... and a bunch of other worthless knick-knacks.]

I'm not finding much over here. We'll probably need to get deeper-

[He cuts off suddenly at the sound of the thump outside the room.]

...The hell was that? [Was there someone else here too? Or something? Norman draws his pistol and steps cautiously toward where Joel is, nearer to the entrance of the room.]

I thought this place was empty. At least, I hoped it was.

Well, that ain't no radroach out there.

[He keeps his voice low, but a dubious edge creeps in anyway. Maybe not a radroach, but could be a ghoul or scorpion nest up ahead... or something worse. You never know what you'd find in these old vaults. Joel's drawn his revolver as well, and his eyes flick back to Norman before-- oh, fuck it. This isn't an ideal place to have any sort of shootout, and he wants a better idea of what they're facing before either one of them does anything rash.]

I'm gonna check it out.

[He hisses to Norman and makes a 'moving forward' hand gesture, and... does pretty much exactly that, edging around the corner of the room to peer cautiously out the side of the door.]

Be careful! [He hisses, having no desire for his newly found partner to turn into something's meal only minutes after teaming up with him. Not to mention that would leave him alone to face whatever monstrous creatures could possibly be lurking around the Vault's halls.

While Joel edges around the corner, Norman creeps up to the other side of the door, pistol held tightly in his hands. He's used to facing off against mutated creatures, but ghouls and other humanoid mutated beings always give him a scare. He's never seen a Supermutant, but has heard all sorts of horror stories. Aw fuck... there better not be Supermutants in here.]

See anything? [He keeps his voice at a whisper, hoping it won't carry any farther than where the other man is standing.]

[Joel is silent for a long moment, peering around the door, then answers in a low mutter.]

Yeah, but-- It's-- Fuck.

[... Joel doesn't fucking know what it is, waddling around the corner, just sort of points at it with a "what the fucking hell" gesture at Norman. It doesn't look human, but it IS, human hands for feet, a squat human face with rolling eyes and big nose, pinkish-cream skin, and that's... where the similarities end, because it has four legs and a long, rat-like tail, and the jaw in that face is distended and filled with far too many sharp-edged teeth. Vaults. Fucking vaults.

Luckily, the creature's eyesight doesn't seem too good, it sniffs the air, rolling its eyes back and forth, as if trying to track them down. Finally, it sits down in the hallway, as if giving up on pursuit.

It starts to cry.

"Help," it whimpers piteously, "Please help me."]

Christ. [To say that he's taken aback would be the understatement of the year, but Joel knows what to do, his hands are already raising the revolver-- the thing is sitting right out in the open, one shot is all it would take.]

[Norman peeks around the corner when Joel gestures ahead, similarly disgusted and disturbed by what he's seeing. Fuck... now he's sure as hell glad he ran into Joel or he'd have stumbled upon that thing on his own and Christ, it gives him the chills.

When the monstrosity actually starts to plead for help, Norman's jaw drops and he gives Joel a dumbfounded look. These things don't usually talk, do they? Well, Supermutants are supposed to, but they aren't anything like this.]

Wait- [He whispers, holding up a hand, knowing that Joel's intending to shoot it. Probably the right decision, but it could also alert anything or anyone else here of their presence.]

We shouldn't use guns if we don't have to. I know that's... shit, I know what we should do, but maybe we ought to find a quieter way. [Quieter will also probably be messier and more painful. Doubt this thing that used to be human would complain too much about a little extra pain at this point.]

[Joel gives him a look, like are you fucking kidding me?!? as the creature in the hallway begins to cry little hiccuping sobs. But... goddamnit, he's right. One shot, and everything in the vault is gonna come crawling out to investigate. Slowly, he lowers his gun, but not without grumbling.]

I hope you're volunteering, cause I sure as hell ain't gettin' in shanking distance of that thing.

[He's not squeamish by any means, but they don't know what the hell it can do and Joel doesn't much like the idea getting any closer to find out.]

[He offers a helpless shrug in response to that look, but is thankful that Joel took his advice and allowed the gun. He's no fool, at least.]

What? Me?

[When it comes to strength, Norman doesn't really have much to boast about. He sticks with small and medium guns exclusively, and has little to no experience with melee weapons. Sending him to deal with it sounds like a terrible plan, and not only because he's scared of that monstrosity. ...But yeah, that's a big part of it.]

I'd probably just piss it off. Think we could just avoid it?

[It's not moving toward them. Then again, who knows how many could be in this vault? If only he didn't have such an important mission... he'd get the hell outta here and fast.]

Not unless you want it crawlin' up your ass while your back's turned.

[Joel's thinking now. He'd rather shoot it and take his chances with the noise than leave it sitting there, following after them or surprising them on their way out. But maybe there's another to kill it with a minimum of noise... Fuck.]

Think you could buy me some time, lure it 'round the other side?

[There's a thick length of loose pipe lying around somewhere behind them, and he's speedy enough with a knife if he can get the damn thing stunned. So much for not getting within shanking distance...]

Edited 2013-10-24 04:20 (UTC)

Thanks, but no thanks.

[Act as bait? Norman bites at his bottom lip, considering his options. Just shooting it is starting to sound more attractive, but he has to keep thinking logically. One of these things seems bad enough; he doesn't want to imagine a whole family of them.]

Okay... yeah. I think so.

[He hasn't noticed the loose pipe, but there's a baseball bat in the bedroom... maybe belonged to some kid who lived here. Norman puts his pistol away and picks that up instead, holding it tightly in both hands.]

I'll circle around and make some noise once I'm behind it. Then you strike. Please don't leave me hanging.

You just focus on your part, and I'll take care of mine.

[Starting to head back to fetch that bit of pipe, he glances back to catch a glimpse of the monster beginning to sniff the air again, tail waving as it picks itself up on its hand-feet to amble in the direction of their room,

Fucking hell, they're out of time. He hisses at Norman:]

Move!

This is crazy... [He mutters, even as he steps into the hallway. Norman swallows hard when the creature becomes alert again, moving in their direction. As an NCR trooper, he feels like he should be calling the shots here, and yet he finds himself readily responding to Joel's command. There definitely is something about him that inspires some confidence.]

I'm going!

[He darts into the next hallway, following it around in a circle until he's made his way behind the creature. It's moving slow, so he fortunately isn't too late.]

Hey! Over here! [Using the bat in his hands, Norman hits it against the wall a few times to attract the monstrosity's attention. It slowly turns around and starts heading in his direction instead.]

[Joel stays put, pipe in hand, as the other man circles around, thinking absently that they haven't even swapped names yet and now they're double-teaming some mutant freak. Well, assuming that they both survive this encounter, there'll be plenty of time for that later.

There's the sound of the bat banging on the walls, and he's off, stalking noiselessly down the corridor with the pipe held in both hands and the knife tucked within easy reach. At least the damn thing is slow, and even at stalking pace Joel is closing in.

30 feet... 20 feet...15... he could've sworn that he hadn't made a sound when suddenly the monster freezes with a low growl and Joel throws caution to the wind, lunging forward to slam the pipe into its skull.

The thing yelps with pain, but recovers faster than Joel ever expected, throwing itself toward him. Throwing himself back in a defensive crouch, Joel manages to jam the pipe between its sharp teeth, which puncture and tear into the pipe with a squeal of metal.]

Edited (how did this cut off >:|) 2013-10-24 22:55 (UTC)

[If this works out, Norman could see the start of a beautiful partnership. Well, that is, until they leave the vault and he has to report back to McCarran with the bottles. This man might just be a prospector, or he might be involved in illegal activities. In the second scenario, he'd sure as hell not be pleased to know who Norman really worked for.

As the creature approaches, he continues banging the bat against the wall while backing away. He can feel his heart beat racing as he looks at those sharp teeth, and prays that Joel will hurry the hell up. Fortunately it isn't long before the other man lunges, but unfortunately hitting the thing with a pipe doesn't seem to do much good.]

Fuck-!

[While it munches on the pipe, Norman starts whaling on it with the baseball bat to try and distract it away from Joel and give him a chance to pull out his knife. It cries out in pain through the beating, but he doesn't stop for a second, survival instinct kicking in by now.]

[Joel wants to swear, but he's too busy avoiding being eaten, forcing the creature's jaws away from his face with sheer adrenaline-fueled strength. He half wonders if his "partner" had done the smart thing, turning tail to run-- when Norman comes charging in, bat at the ready.

He gets a chance to pull back as the creature turns to face its new opponent, and in the few precious seconds of breathing room he draws his knife in one swift move and plunges it into the base of its neck.

Bright red blood fountains from its neck as the monster screams, an eerily human sound from its deformed face. The splatter catches Joel along one arm, a few drops hitting his face as he jerks away, staring at his hands. Anywhere the creature's blood hit bare skin, his skin is blistering and turning red.]

Shit--

[But it still isn't dead, just thrashing around in pain.]

[Norman doesn't let up with the bat, even after Joel stabs it in the neck. As long as that thing's moving and making noise, he's planning to keep hitting it. So distracted with this task, he doesn't notice what's happening to Joel's arm where the blood hit him.

The creature trashes desperately in what Norman hopes are death throes, and eventually after several more vicious swings of the bat to its head, it finally stops moving. Fuck... with all the noise that thing made, they might as well have shot it. At least they conserved ammo this way.

Norman is breathing hard when he turns his gaze toward Joel, hands wrapped around the bat so hard he feels like his fingers are glued there. It's at that point he notices the red and blistered skin that the man certainly wasn't bearing when they began this fight.]

What the hell happened to your arm?

[Joel is breathing hard, fingers shaking slightly as he examines his arms.]

Blood's like acid. I got caught in the spray.

[He flexes a hand-- it stings, like a fresh burn wound, but the muscles aren't stiff and he can still pull a trigger or handle a blade well enough. He'd be fine, shoot up a little med X if it got too bad.

Joel looks up at a -thunk- sound in the distance, somewhere below their feet. Maybe a crate tipping over. Maybe not.]

Whatever that thing was, let's not stick around to see if it's got pals.

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