Though no one outright said anything, Terry could feel stares of disgust on his back as he trudged through the filth of Freeside. He always had hated this place. For the filth that lined the streets, of course, not for the prejudice. He faced prejudice everywhere, but he had seen Powder Ganger camps that were cleaner than this dump. Still, most of the people here were bearable. Anyways, he was in town, and it was the best place to get supplies, and sell some wares without a day long walk, packing almost a hundred pounds worth of gear. 

His first stop in the town would be the Silver Rush, somewhere that his reputation was rather good, in comparison to the rest of the town. As he approached the double doors, he was stopped by a man he was unfamiliar with. They must've been hiring a new guard. The guard could clearly see plenty of weapons, mostly energy guns, sticking out from his bag. "Woah, buddy. I'm going to need to take those off of your hands before you go in. You understand." He said, voice sweet as syrup. 

Terry chuckled a bit. "Business must be pretty bad, if they can't even hire someone with a little bit of intimidation factor? Where's Simon?" He asked, not moving to give up his weapons. The guard was clearly uncomfortable, and slightly raised his laser rifle. "Anyways, I'm here to sell these to Gloria. Can't do much salesmanship without the wares, get it?"

"Listen, I don't want any trouble. This is my first day, just humor me." The guard said, not budging a bit. The rifle made a slight whirring noise, and lit up as the safety was turned off. 

"Fine, fine, fine." Terry said, giving up all of his weapons. At least all but his switchblade. "I'm going to have a long chat with Gloria about this, though." Terry said, snarling as he walked in. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the relatively dim place, accompanied by the clicks and beeps of about a dozen energy weapons being pointed at his head. Unusually; however, they were not lowered, instead kept level with his marred visage.

"Hey, guys. What's wrong? It's your old pal Terry, I'm just here to do some business." Terry said, rather confused. He looked at Gloria, a mix of fear and confusion on his face.
The two stared at each other for a moment, before Gloria waved her hand to Jean-Baptiste, who had the guards lower their guns. "Alright, that was... weird. Anyways, I got some more energy weapons for you. You... might want to clean the blood off of them, after your new rookie lets me bring them in. Where the hell is Simon, anyways?" He asked, only to be met with angry stares. "What's wrong? Talk to me, Gloria." He said, nervously wringing his hands.

Gloria took a deep breath before responding. "You've been stealing too much from the Gun Runners. They thought that we were sending you, so they had their men come, and..." She said, trailing off. She glanced around the room. All of the guards were looking down, a sober look on their faces. Jean-Baptiste spoke up, anger tainting his already gruff voice. "Simon is dead. They shot him in the gut, so he could take his time, and bleed out. We're done doing business with you." He said, raising his plasma caster. 

Terry looked up, surprise filling his glowing eyes. "No... I-I'm so sorry... I know he's been with you for quite some time now..." He stammered, a bit shaken himself. He had gotten fairly close to Simon in his time of working with the Van Graff family. "I'll get out of here, now. Please, take the weapons, no charge, as a sign of respect. I'll leave them with your new guard." Terry said, taking the course of action least likely to get him disintigrated. He hurried out, leaving most of the weapons there. He took inventory of his normal weapons, making sure the new guard hadn't done anything to them.

[i]'Great job, Terry. That's one more bridge burnt...'[/i] He thought to himself, as he made his way to the Mormon Fort, with some RadX and RadAway to give them. The Followers of the Apocalypse were a group of people he was in very high respects with, but if he wasn't careful, he would fuck that up, too. It was a quick business, as he went in and out. The Followers were glad to have some of that on hand, and Terry surely didn't need it. They offered no pay in exchange, and though Terry was a greedy bastard, he wouldn't dare ask them to give him any. 

Feeling good about himself, which he rarely did, Terry made his way over to Mick and Ralph's. He took a look around as he walked in, taking note of the only other two customers, eavesdropping a bit on their conversation. Something about traveling out into the wastes? Not unusual. People only ever really stopped here to get into The Strip, or gear up for trips out to the Mojave. Terry made a beeline to talk to Mick, wasting no time. "Hey, Mick. It's me, Terry. Listen, I know you hate my guts, but I have the caps right here, now could you help me out, and fix up my axe a bit? It's getting hard to protect myself out there with such a dull weapon." He said, the string of words escaping far quicker than he meant them to.

"Get it fixed elsewhere, creep. I saw what you did to that man from the Gun Runners." Mick replied, not even bothering to look at Terry. It was clear that he wasn't wanted there, so Terry showed himself out. Not really sure where to go next, he decided to wait for awhile, crossing the street to wait in front of the ruined building just across from Mick and Ralph's. He pulled out a bottle of Nuka Cola he had just bought from the Atomic Wrangler, and began sipping it slowly, as he mulled over his options. He didn't want to stay in Freeside too much longer, not with his reputation, but he couldn't think of anywhere to go, that would actually be productive.