Just the handler, how convenient. Keeping the thought to herself as well as the smirk to accompany it, she played off the deflection with the shift in conversation and just filed it away. She knew just as any other paladin in the Brotherhood that there were certain organizations out there with an interest in their activities. Foremost among them were the Enclave, but with their crushing defeat on the East Coast and most of their number in the wind they were not the threat they once were. Rumor persisted of another group up a little more north with the same technological advantage, but operating under far more secrecy. Khaliya cared little for such rumors until hard evidence could be gained, but Maxson had fell into them with an eagerness that bordered on obsession.

There was some credence to such things though, as she picked up on that slight mistep from Alexis. Not to mention that her eyes were sharp enough to notice the difference between the all too perfect parts of the rifle that were far from pre-war standard. It was too clean, too well put together, and just from that offered look she could tell that wherever Alexis had acquired the parts that such things were just the tip of a technological iceberg. Of course she hid it well with a tempered enthusiasm, accepting the rifle and turning it over a moment to get a better look, then shouldering it briefly. The weapon fit well into her shoulder, resting easy and clearly adjusted for a long range duty.

"It's well put together, a fine weapon." Khaliya said at last, returning the rifle and casually resting back against the chest of her power-armor. The slight against her own plasma weapons very nearly got her to bite, but she pushed it down and just smiled back at her. "The pistols were once rifles to be honest, and belonged to my parents. Scribes wanted to take them and keep asking about them, but due to my actions in the big skirmish in the Capitol they had to be less insistent about it. That and it helps to flex a little muscle from time to time."

Her expression there made it clear that it wasn't just a metaphor, flexing her right arm briefly and chuckling back at the woman. It helped her to keep from pushing a little too much on her, to try and understand who or what she was. Too many things struck out at her, the small hints dropped here and there, the rather abrupt shift when she seemed about to say something she shouldn't, and just the way she handled herself. She could tell that The Mask was on the older side, and in the wasteland few people lived to their later years without particular skills or luck. Khaliya knew better than to assume luck.

The brief pause in conversation allowed her eyes to wander from her comrade, glancing over the administrative booth and seeing the caretakers engaged in their own over a short-band radio. Curious, perhaps something has developed… That thought went on hold as the older man of the pair set down the receiver and started heading out to address the group. In one hand was a poster with hastily scrawled writing on the back, a set of notes it seemed. Several of those gathered near the rails had noticed the motion and turned their attention to the old man, others following suit.

Before long most of those in the tunnel were looking over at the caretaker as he took out a set of reading glasses and began to address the group. Khaliya motioned to Jeremiah off to the side and Alexis before her as well, feeling that perhaps this was a message from their benefactor.

"Thank you adventurers." He spoke with a soft and gravely tone, age and radiation wearing down on him over the years. "I have here a message from the one who gathered you all here. The Pariah is pleased to see that everyone who received the invitation is present, as well as a few others who were allowed to come along. Unfortunately, information was recently acquired that demanded their presence deeper within the Necropolis urgently. You will each find a suit proofed against the radiation inside the city, patches for when damage is incurred and geiger counters to continually monitor levels. A map has also been provided, and though it is an Old World copy, the Pariah has marked several places of interest as well as what he believes may be inside."

A momentary pause was left there as the other caretaker came out with a key to unlock a storage trunk next to the administrative area. Opening it was the supplies just as promised, enough suits for everyone in the group including those who were otherwise proof to elevated radiation.

"Your first objective is what he believes to be the remains of what was called the 'USSR Consulate' before the Great War. Supposedly another nation had people staffed there and several vaults below. The Pariah feels that they would have survived assuming the building remains standing, and has a few specific items that he would like salvaged. First and foremost, his interest lies in any data storage devices, paper documents and blueprints that may be stored in the vaults." Such was not what most were expecting, though in fairness the Pariah had never specified exactly what they were after when recruiting. Mere data had never been too important to the average wastelander, only the larger and more advanced groups had sought it out actively.

"Your patron has advised a route, but it will take a day or so to get there on foot with the hazards in the city." It seemed that was it, the caretaker nodding slowly and rolling the paper back up as he began to head back towards the administrative area. Some grumbling among a few of the mercenaries gave him pause, glancing over the group as the leader of the Talon Company trio stood up to direct her frustration at him. "You serious? He wants us to go digging around in some old building deep in one of the most dangerous zones on the East Coast, for some useless papers? The fuck?" It was a bit on the hostile side, and some like Khaliya got a bit defensive as it seemed a fight was poised to break out, but a nod here and there showed that it was not an uncommon sentiment. Instead, she decided to take the diplomatic approach.

"Sounds like a walk in the radioactive park to me, but if it's a little too much for you Prism, then you're welcome to go back to trying to salvage what you can out of what remains of Talon Company." An undisguised barb at the mercenary captain's pride, Khaliya faced her with one hand on her hip and plasma pistol there within reach. "Let's be honest, not all of us are here just for the glory." A glance around the group showed some agreement, and she started walking towards the front so that she could take a good look at each person gathered in turn. "Some of us are here to get a second chance, either for ourselves or for those we hold close. A chance to be a better person, or the chance to give life to another."

Khaliya stood next to the caretaker, looking over the group carefully as she spoke in even tones. For a brief moment her eyes met Bailey's and a knowing glance passed between them as if she was telling her that she had an idea as to what she was. "A few have come here not for ourselves or our family and friends, but for all people. The chance to show everyone that we can do more than just survive. We can take back what we lost, do better than before, and rebuild. That is why I am here. Not for the glory, not for myself or my family. Not even for the Brotherhood."

A concerned look from Jeremiah held her attention for a moment, but she didn't let it stop her, standing proud before everyone as she pointed to the trunk full of gear. "I am here to show that we are no longer at the mercy of the wasteland. When we walk out of the Necropolis, we will do so with our heads held proud and declare to everyone that it is time. It is time to rebuild America, and not under a dozen different flags struggling against each other and the wastes, but under the only flag that matters."

[ Fleetwood Subway Station ]
@Polaris North @Dread

There was an air of unease surrounding the trio, each of them suspicious of the other for understandable reasons. Those who keep secrets can often identify each other, and John and Marvin both shared that same look in their eyes; an understanding, maybe, that what they showed to the world wasn't their true self. There was almost a sort-of camaraderie to it. But there was conflict as well, the dreadful sense that both of them would go to great, even dangerous lengths to ensure those secrets were never revealed.

The curse of knowledge, even the thought of it sat like a bad taste in John's mouth. It added only to the bitterness that swirled inside him, poisoning his mind, his body. His two companions could have seen it, the disgruntled look on his face. It wasn't anger or resentment, but complete dissatisfaction; like John was trying to look for something off in the horizon, a sign of something better, a sign that this wasn't it. But the years dragged on, and now, he stared out into the distance and lamented only that there was nothing there at all.

Returning to the present, John's eyes regained focus as he looked -- properly looked -- at Marvin and Frankie both. The Ghoul's expression was hard to read, no doubt due to the years of radiation exposure burning away most of his cartilage and soft tissue. While his tone remained polite, it lacked the genuine pleasantness he possessed just moments earlier retelling his story. Something about the girl, maybe.

She was small, unnoticeable, one to duck her head down, mingle into a crowd, and never be seen again. Hardly the Femme fatale that John had grown up hearing about, but there was something refreshing about her, a hardened hopefulness that could be seen in her voice, her actions. Not naivety or flights of fancy, but that spark of life and energy amidst the decay, the bloodshed, the cynicism. People lose that spark too quickly, John surmised. Maybe it was that same spark that drew Marvin to her in the first place, made him, if only for a moment, take down that wall.

Feeling that familiar gnawing pang in his chest again, John, brows furrowed, decided he was done thinking for the moment. About to say something else to the duo, he was interrupted before he could begin by a new commotion from the tunnel, the sound of dozens of heads turning at once. John, instinctively following suit, let his eyes settle on an old caretaker, a worn poster clutched tightly between leathery fingers.

The Caretaker soon addressed the crowd, his voice old and decrepit, yet carrying the weight of the Pariah's influence in every syllable. John couldn't help but scoff at the 'unfortunate' news that the Pariah had traveled deeper into the Necropolis without them. To John, it practically screamed the word "trap", but he shouldn't have expected anything less from their enigmatic benefactor.

It was what the Pariah wanted that intrigued John more than anything else. Not weapons, armor, or advanced military technology that would have the Brotherhood storming the gates to plant their flag. But blueprints, data storage, paper documents, things that would be scavenged for components at best or strewn aside at worst.

But, of course, someone had to have the last word. The Talon Company leader rose to her feet, saying what many of them had probably been thinking. What was the point in gathering old, seemingly useless equipment and documentation?

Then the shorter of the Paladins cut in, trying to make the most of the situation at hand and unify the group together. "Jesus, they're making speeches." John muttered under his breath, clearly unimpressed by what he saw as self-indulgent ego-stroking. Anyone could make a speech, talk about unity, about pride in accomplishments. But they were just that, speeches. And John had grown tired of hearing them.

@Searat @HamakazeKai
Listening to Bailey's and Emils's conversation about their fancy laser rifles she cast a glance down to her carbine. A Wedding present of sorts from the rest of the Gunner group, to replace the SMG she was using. "I don't get what you see in energy weapons, I prefer the kick bullets give off. Gives me a bit of a rush." She said picking it up by its handrail.

Seeing the old man give his speech and listening to what he said, she thought why are we being sent in to loot an old building, though she would never have had the courage to say that. To her surprise, however, the Talon company merc said exactly what she was thinking. Them the Paladin gave her speech, about unity and how we can rebuild America. Monika rolled her eyes a good few times during her little pep talk. All her talk was probably for nought; this group looks more ready to kill each other than whatever lay ahead in that tunnel.

Looking around the group and thinking that she didn't trust most of them to have her back she looks back to Emil and Bailey. "Well, looks like we can finally get a move on. She says standing up and placing her rifle over her shoulder on its sling. "But who put her in charge? Last time I checked the Brotherhood only want to keep all the good stuff for themselves, what's this crap about unity and rebuilding America. On my travels, I heard of one group trying to do it. The Enclave or something like that. And they seem to want to make it better for the natives and not horde all the useful gear and tech. But the Brotherhood, Nah they're just in it for themselves. And I guarantee she's just saying this stuff to get a higher standing in the group. She and her partner couldn't care if we all died before we even left the subway tunnel. While she had tried to keep the little talk between the three of them. She knew others will have heard

Marvin couldn't help but snicker when Frankie yawned as she introduced herself. Looks like the girl didn't have as much sleep as was needed. That could potentially be dangerous if she were a fighter. Sleepiness would make her sluggish and that means her reaction time won't be as fast. Someone could shoot her brains out before she can even get to her gun. But thankfully, she was a medic. All she needed to do was duck and cover then take care of the wounded once the fight was over. Though, he wasn't sure how effective a sleepy medic can actually be but hopefully she'll be fine. Between every single person in this group, he was pretty damn sure that they won't let anything touch a medic, of all people.

"If it's only for a few minutes, kid, I think you'll be-" Marvin was cut off when the caretaker began to speak. "Or not." He grumbled under his breath as he turned his head to the man to listen to his instructions. Hearing that Pariah had already devled inside the Necropolis to handle something made Marvin roll his eyes. So he was a no show. Not even going to bother to show his face to them. Fine. As long as he gets his caps and his info, he was good to go. But the fact that he still wasn't able to meet him after all this waiting did piss him off a little bit.

The equipment promised was there - radiation suits, geiger counters and even an Old World Map. Marvin didn't need the radiation suit for obvious reasons - he can't get any more ghoulish than this - but he thought that maybe the geiger counter and the map would be useful. The suit would be too heavy to lug around if he thought about letting Emily have it. Gordon, as a Synth, could handle the radiation just as well as Marvin could. Their human companion was the only problem. And he knew very well that she wanted to enter the Necropolis herself, having been a curious scientist and ex-agent who could handle herself in a fight.

His attention tuned back to the caretaker when he continued speaking. Like the others, he was shocked to hear that what the Pariah wanted was not physical weaponry but blueprints. He wanted information. He realized that the Pariah was bigger than he originally thought. This wasn't your average person, and he doubted that he was just a history nut who had more money than he knew what to do with. Maybe Pariah was planning something bigger than they could even comprehend at the present time. But Marvin didn't quite care about that. Not yet, at least.

Marvin stood up from his wooden crate and slung his rifle around his shoulder, not bothering with processing anything else other than the mission at hand. He wasn't exactly so interested in waiting around now that they were given the go. He looked at Frankie and John and gestured towards the Storage Trunk where their supplies were at. He then started to move towards it, eager to get his hands on the equipment and get the hell out of this stuffy little place.

However, others didn't take the orders so well. The Talon Mercs spoke up against it. It was a high risk mission. They'd be risking everything they had for this mission, and for what? For just some documents? It was understandable. When they were invited to come here, they didn't know what they'd be doing. So everyone just went here because of morbid curiosity. Marvin sighed. He couldn't believe that some mercenaries were this picky. They could just leave, couldn't they? It's not like the Pariah would have them shot just because they didn't quite accept what they were going to do and got cold feet at the last minute. It was bad on the reputation, sure, but still better than losing your life.

Then Swordwind went on a mini-speech about... something. Honestly, Marvin's mind went blank with disbelief that someone actually did something like this. What were they in? A movie? He could hear someone else pipe up against Swordwind. Obviously being part of the Brotherhood, it was understandable that most would not exactly accept her quickly. Hell, Marvin wouldn't trust her to keep him alive if this were under normal circumstances. Hell, he was pretty damn sure that he would be dead by this point. But right now, it's obvious that she does intend on finishing this mission. But the girl raised a good point. They were from the Brotherhood and as long as they got what they wanted, they didn't care about the sacrifices.

Sacrifces that others, as mercenaries, weren't willing to make. Not for her and her companion, at the very least.

He took a Geiger Counter from the Storage Trunk and also the map. "You know, I don't care who our leader is gonna be. Whether it's gonna be this Brotherhood lady or someone else, but we need one. This is too big of a group to just let everyone do what they want and hope for the best. We'll either get separated or be all dead within the first few minutes." Marvin pointed out as he pocketed the Geiger Counter. He then proceeded to their exit point but of course waited for the rest to gather up what they needed. "So if you would all so kindly choose someone to lead, or please volunteer, we can be on our way, finish this mission and go on our own merry adventures without seeing each other again."

He then let out a sigh. This might as well have been the reason why he rarely travelled with more than three people. Too chaotic. Especially now that they were all just thrown together with who knows what tensions are going to rise up. Not to mention their two Brotherhood Paladins just so willingly showing off their allegiance and putting almost everyone on edge about this whole thing. The ghoul, of course, had his own reservations. He was rather sure that he and John may as well have some complications if he was truly an investigator, but by this point he didn't care. It was useless to think about it since they were going to be working together. Guess for others, it's just hard to let go of previous grudges.

@Ghost Shadow @Dread @Alfhedil @Cuddles 1438

---

---

[ Fleetwood Subway Station ]
@Polaris North & @Ghost Shadow

Frankie didn’t mind so much the company of the two not-so-strange-anymore men as they both seemed to be settling in while everyone continued to wait, and wait some more. Even as she gazed blankly at the two, while maintaining a half-smile just to show that she was still engaged somehow in the sporadic conversation, Frankie knew she had to move soon. In fact, it took the girl some time to realize that her heavy eyelids and and occasionally uncontrollable yawning wasn’t so much due to a few nights of relatively terrible sleep, but rather the fact that sitting around waiting for a guy who hasn’t even shown up to tell us what to do was, in a word...

“Bor-ing.”

Frankie caught herself mumbling as she stared blankly for a moment, evening darting her eyes from one end of the dark tunnel to the other just to keep her mind occupied. The girl spend a good part of her life “always on", constantly moving just to keep up with the hectic pace of her community and chosen trade. Born and raised amongst scavengers, builders, scientists, farmers, and a myriad of other professions kept things moving along at a pretty good speed, especially for one who thrived on keeping herself occupied. And if things began to slow, she would sometimes find her hands fidgeting just because they needed something to do. Was there a wound that needed mending? Perhaps a tonic she could mix after gathering the right ingredients? There was also something to do no matter what day of the week it was. Good medics were hard to come by in many parts of the wasteland, and those that were sought out either didn't survive or just moved on to somewhere else. However, Frankie had a gift and -while she wasn't one to boast- really knew her shit to the point where she'd quite literally pushed other more seasoned medical professionals out the door due to their indecisiveness. Sure, she was young, but she also wasn't afraid to take the chances needed if it meant saving another life before their own clock ran out. And while she may not be the best when it came to proper bedside manner, or simply socializing for the sake of socializing, she was also well aware that life sucked for a lot of people, and if her skills could be put to good use to make it suck even less, then she was doing her job.

Regardless, she was still bored…

And as if the walls could read her thoughts, there was movement out near the administrative booth and out came an older man who eventually addressed everyone present. Frankie, for one, was excited, as she stood to her feet, her mind finally poised for an adventure that would allow her to see things that she otherwise would probably never have seen in her lifetime. Of course many questions ran through her mind even as the caretaker continued to speak, and of course, the young girl only caught about half of what was being explained to the group, but she figured it was enough of the key points. Although, the fact that the Pariah had left without them was a dick move, but whatever...I’m sure he had his reasons.

“Sweet!” Frankie exclaimed, checking out the storage bin that was opened, and the equipment that was inside. She was certainly no stranger to the rad suits or geiger counters, especially on particular outings when she had been with the Raiders, where she was essentially forced to go into terribly radiated areas for supplies, thankfully with little to no effect on her health afterward.

The young medic noticed the others picking up their belongings and she did the same, making sure her bag was packed, all rations were accounted for, and her boots were tied, because the last thing she needed was to trip and fall before anything happened. Commotion amongst the group of Brotherhood soldiers was beginning to heat up as they apparently didn’t take the news very well, but thankfully the very pretty woman who seemed to be more or less leading the group, decided she should give one last pep talk.

“Not bad.” Frankie chuckled to John and Marvin after the speech was over. “I know I feel inspired to run into danger.”

@Searat @Cuddles 1438

Bailey stands up and nods as Monika talks, She turns to her and gives her a knowing smile.

"I wouldn't mention the Enclave too loud around these folks... The Brotherhood might try to kill you."

She walks over to the crate and takes a map, Hazmat suit and a couple of the pieces of material. She scowls at the BoS Paladins as the memories of her experiences in the Enclave - Brotherhood War.

The Death of her family and her friends all happened because of the Brotherhood, She remembers seeing this "Swordwind" person cutting through her friends. She spaces out standing with a thousand yard stare out towards the entrance to the necropolis. She vows to kill the BoS paladins in there somewhere.

@HamakazeKai
Walking over to the crate with bailey, Monika listens to her advice about not mentioning the Enclave around the brotherhood. And that they might try to kill her. Picking out the gear from the crate she looks over at Bailey. Making sure her back is turned to the Paladins "Try being the key word there." She whispered, discreetly showing Bailey 2 BoS Holotags from her shirt pocket. One of a Knight and one of a Paladin.

Her mind was cast back to the encounter with the Brotherhood at the university in Hartford. Her group was just scavenging as work had dried up a bit. But the Brotherhood were looking for tech. When the Gunners refused to leave on the grounds of they were there first, the Brotherhood opened fire. Monika thought about how then she and her group had a few Pulse Grenades to help them deal with Power Armour and there were 15 or so of them and only 5 or so BoS. Here it would most likely be her and maybe Bailey everyone else would just watch.

@Cuddles 1438 @HamakazeKai

'Well, that was a rousing speech. Wish the brotherhood was like that back in NCR rather than being angry at odds with government' Emil thinks to himself, giving the two brotherhood paladins a glance before directing his gaze at the talon company mercenaries for a bit before replying to Monika. "Yeah, out to go to our grand adventure. Filled with peril and riches." Emil said with a rather over the top radio drama announcer voice as he too stands and walks to the supply crate. Its understandable that he was upset that the pariah went on ahead of all of us, but it must have been good reason the pariah acted that way. A couple or so other folk voiced out their grumbles and whines, including Bailey and Monika, but what was most interesting here at the moment was the box full of goodies. High quality hazmat suits with proper repair kits and patches if damaged and Geiger counters of that quality that they seemed too good to be true. All of it free. It was a generous offer that the pariah had given, and one he would not let up.

He takes a hazmat suit and a couple of patches and a Geiger counter. Emil smiles slightly when he taps the glass display and the needle indicating the rads doesn't stick to one side or the other. He sets the Geiger counter down before trying to wear the suit over his armor and cloak with varying levels of success. Emil takes this time to address the concerns of Bailey and Monika earlier. "Hell, I'm just glad someone is taking the lead in this endeavor of ours." He finally sticks a leg through and finally balances himself and now trying to wear the upper half without getting stuck or tearing the suit this early on. Also, regarding why I like laser weapons, is because the complete lack of recoil. He pauses to stick his arms through. Point and shoot. Just like that. No need to worry about the recoil cause of the lack of moving parts and need of an explosion to propel the projectile. Beam intensity adjustment is a nice touch too. With that he finally dons his hazmat suit over his armor and cloak. Truthfully, its a little tight but at least now he needn't worry about radiation much. That and it kinda made Emil feel like Captain Cosmos in the comics...but he wont tell anyone that. Though his smile grows slightly wider at the thought.

If she had been expecting an overwhelming positive response to her attempt to spur the group on and towards their objective, then she would have been foolish indeed. Khaliya knew full well that with how divided the group was and how little they seemed to care for the Brotherhood as a whole, that she would be lucky to get even one on her side, but she wasn't aiming for that. She did exactly as she intended, to get enough of them to pay attention and understand that this wasn't just a series of individuals. They were a group whether they liked it or not, and if they didn't then they could turn back now and there were no hard feelings.

Sure enough there was talk amongst them, and it wasn't just her who had heard the talk of the Enclave from one in particular. Jeremiah was on edge already from her prior comments, and now his eyes narrowed towards Monika and Bailey. On the move, there was determination set in his eyes until Khaliya pushed past him. Last thing she wanted was to ruin all that talk she had just given to the group with her husband making war among them, and it took just one firm look to communicate exactly that to him. It didn't matter if one or the other was secretly Enclave, they had a common goal in this and she bore down on Jeremiah off to the side.

"What happened to keeping it diplomatic?" She still watched the others getting the supplies of course, forming up a plan of action as she counseled her husband. Not even a moment before he had warned her off starting a fight with the Talon mercs, when in truth she was just having a little fun getting a jab in at their expense. Yet now, when the Enclave comes up in idle chat between two others, he bristles and gets ready for battle.

"They are here for a reason, Jeremiah. We need to work together on this. From the moment we walked down those steps into the subway, our loyalties changed to keeping this group together and ensuring this mission succeeded. Do you remember?" Only a slight nod came from the larger man, arms crossed as he looked down at her and took heed of her words. Indeed, on the way there she had explained quite clearly the mission they were on as given to her by the Pariah and the importance of each member of this team. "Everyone here has a purpose."

"Even if-" There wasn't even time for him to get the rest of the thought out as she cut him off. "You don't know that, and I don't know that. We can't go after people based only on suspicions and assumptions, nor will we try to find out. The Necropolis is dangerous enough without having to watch our backs. Now, get back in your armor and get ready to move out."

Though it was clear at least from her perspective and anyone who might have listened in that the conversation was over, there was no denying the distinct concern on Jeremiah's face as he watched her walk away. Something was bothering him about the mission, not just the idea of working with possible enemy forces or going into hostile territory with them at his back, but something else. While the others readily dismissed her attempt at a pep-talk to get them moving, he had listened carefully and was not entirely enthused by her choice of words. It was something to bring up later though, as already she was getting ready to move on.

In full power armor she was at least able to stare down at people, but she avoided that for the moment as she gathered a spare suit for herself and Jeremiah, moving just ahead of the ghoul to address those ready to move out.

"Get your gear and get ready to move. I'll take point, Jeremiah will cover our six. Support personnel and non-combatants keep to the center of formation. Talon Company form up just ahead of them to provide fire-support, and you two…" Here she pointed to Alexis and Marvin, both the long-range specialists in their group. "You're with them on watch. We don't know what will be lurking in the buildings, so let's keep scopes on the high-ground and ahead of us at all times. Everyone else, spread out and stay alert."

@Alfhedil @HamakazeKai @Cuddles 1438

Emil had already worn the complete hazmat suit and looked like a USSR cosmonaut that packed a few pounds by the time the brotherhood paladin had told the group to begin packing up and get ready to head out. He didn't need a repeat of the order and walked back to the bench he was sitting on to retrieve his trusty laser RCW as well as his knapsack containing everything that he needs.
He sticks the couple of repair patches into one of the pockets on his pack for easy and quick access when the suit gets damaged. With the patches secure, he takes his position near the front of the group's right. He maintains a 4 x 4 foot spacing from the others; close enough to cover the right forward position but far enough to protect the main group from any assailants coming from the right side.

Bailey put on the Hazmat Suit and by the time she was finished it had her combat armor over the outside of the suit, her backpack on the back of her suit with her helmet strapped to it. She takes up a position close to the front of the group and watches her sectors with her Laser Rifle at the ready, Her military bearing is obvious to anyone looking and she stays on edge as she surveys the left side of the group occasionally looking over to keep visual contact with Emil to her right and the group members in front of and behind her.

[ Fleetwood Subway Station ]
@Polaris North @Dread

Still bearing the look of disgust that seemed more appropriately aimed towards rotting garbage, John kept close enough to Marvin and Frankie to avoid mingling in with the others. The fledgling subgroups all kept to themselves, building individual foundations of trust that amounted to little more than, 'I'll shoot you last.' John wanted as little as possible to do with either of the Brotherhood Paladins or his friend from the Institute, and he'd have sooner put a bullet in his own head than chat about energy weapons with the trio of mercenaries not far from him.

Frankie's sudden exclamation of "Sweet!" drew John out of his reverie, immediately tracing his eyes back to the girl as she scampered to the storage trunk, her earlier fatigue now nowhere to be seen. His response was a silent, but poignant raised eyebrow that concealed the small smirk threatening to cross his otherwise-apathetic expression.

With a quick scan of the contents of his satchel to make sure everything was where it was supposed to be, John reached for a Geiger counter and hazmat suit from the trunk, ignoring the maps provided in favor of his own. He stuffed a few of the patches in his bag, content in knowing that there was at least some security in that. John had seen his fair amount of radiation from his travelings around the Wasteland, but he wasn't willing to risk growing an extra arm or two if he could help it.

Turning just in time to hear Marvin's request to the group as a whole, John couldn't help but chuckle slightly. It was a quiet noise, but clearly distinct to those close to him. Not a joyous, or jovial sound, but cruel and contemptuous.

“Not bad. I know I feel inspired to run into danger.”

Trying his best to step one foot after the other into his hazmat suit, John turned to look at Frankie. "Eh, his sounded better." He answered simply, motioning with a cock of his head back to Marvin.

Pausing briefly, as if thinking something over, John reached into the breast of his coat once more, drawing out his now-lighter pack of cigarettes. Saying nothing, he opened it up, deftly plucking a single cigarette and holding it out to Frankie. "Here. Keep you from falling asleep on the job." He said, returning the pack to his coat pocket.

Yet, despite the nonchalant confidence in his actions, John's mind was woefully uncertain. Why should he care that the girl was tired, short on sleep? Certainly the rest of them were, perhaps even more so. Maybe it was practical: the last person you want tired and unfocused is the one removing a bullet or stitching your leg up. But maybe it was something else. Something personal; a bit of kindness here or there, one drop of goodness in a growing sea of selfish pragmatism. If it wasn't her, it would have been someone else, John told himself. A few bottle caps to a stranger down on his luck, maybe; a pack of gumdrops for a street urchin with a tear-stained face. Something little, something insignificant. But then. Then he could feel like the hero again.

It was when the Paladin started barking out orders like an Old World commander that John felt his bitterness return in full swing. Spread out and stay alert. Might as well have been his life motto at this point.

"Time to go." John put bluntly, wishing in the back of his mind that he'd savored his last drink maybe a little more.

He leaned on the wall beside him with his hands already on his rifle. He was just waiting for the others to form up and they could finally get this show on the road. There was a smirk when Frankie excitedly looked over the equipment. At least he actually found someone to talk to. The Brotherhood people weren't exacly the type he'd want to talk to, unless the opportunity is forced upon him or he's just really, really bored.

Marvin rolled his eyes at John's comment. "I just want to get out of here." The space was cramped and his nervous energy was not going anywhere if he was just sitting still. Better to walk it off than just letting himself drone on and on about his own experiences to the then-sleepy Frankie. He then watched as everyone took the hazmat suits and began to put them on, unlike himself and the ones who use Power Armor. The ghoul really did appreciate this blessing in irradiated disguise since he didn't have to carry around those heavy things.

"You smoothskins look good with those bulky suits." Marvin joked as he looked over to John who was putting on his own hazmat suit. However, he didn't seem too interested in following up with the joke as he looked over to their path of choice once more and then to the map. Hm, shouldn't be too complicated right? As long as they didn't shoot each other in the back - a very real possibility it looked like - they should reach their destination and get the blueprints and files to finish their mission.

He then did a double take as John offered Frankie a cigarette. Marvin wasn't sure why he was so surprised. Was it because of the man's cynical aura that made him think that John wasn't one for acts of random kindness? Or was it really just because he wanted a smoke himself? There was a moment where he squinted his eyes at him, as if looking for something in John. He then smiled and shook his head. "Of course the PI has some cigs in his pcoket." He decided to joke with a light laugh - this time, a little genuine and it seemed to put him at ease. He had John to thank for that, but he wouln't admit that yet.

That was when Swordwind began speaking. No, ordering them around. Marvin wasn't opposed to her taking the lead. He pushed himself off of the wall and then looked at the two and nodded. "Looks like I'll be going to the front. Good luck you two." He then took the right flank as the other sniper had gone to the left.

There was something about going now that put him... strangely at ease. He was keeping a keen eye on everything that was happening, Still, being on the move is better than sitting down. This was more familiar. At least he was going to be in his element now. Sure, he didn't really trust the ones around him aside from John and Frankie... and the Brotherhood Paladins to some extent, but it wasn't like he has done this before.

@Ghost Shadow @Dread

Putting on her hazmat suit Monika looked ahead of her into the darkness of the tunnel and scratched her arm nervously. she was a country girl, born on the plains of Eastern Colorado. The first time she had seen anything resembling a city was on her escape East. Now she was going into the heart of one.

Her mind ran wild, she felt like a rat trapped in a maze as the group moved through the tunnel. She was glad to have put the suits Helmet on so that the others couldn't see how visibly nervous she was. Not at what lay ahead or the thought it might end, but at the concrete prison, she now found herself in. She had grown accustomed to working in the Urban environment in Hartford but had never been in a Subway before. At the same time as being thankful she put the helmet on, she also regretted it because it meant she couldn't light up to relieve her stress and nervousness. Feeling nervous was one thing but she kept her mind in the here and now. From her time with the Gunners, she understood most of what the Paladin was saying when she gave orders. Taking up a position more towards the back of the group with Bailey in front of her and Emil to her front right, scanning her surroundings with her rifle at the ready.

---

---

[ Fleetwood Subway Station ]
@Polaris North & @Ghost Shadow

Frankie cringed at the cigarette. “Ew, no thanks.” She shook her head, unzipping the radiation suit, and checking each connector and hose. “Besides, those things will kill you, dude.”

The irony didn't escape her though, since whatever was lurking along the path from the tunnels into the Necropolis would kill them much quicker and with deadlier results. Or, simply the toxins in the air -especially the ones unseen- would drive each of the group members into a maddened state, possibly shorting out their own logic and turning on one another. The girl had seen it happen twice while a captive of the Raider parties, men and women who were otherwise in their right minds, slowly drifting toward the downward spiral of insanity. Brother attacking brother, tearing at each other until one was dead, and the remains, ingested as though there was no difference between normal animal consumption and outright cannibalism. The girl had no cure for such things, and had to watch as their minds were slowly eaten away until there was nothing but a husk.

Snapping out of such dreadful thoughts, she turned to John with a half-smile. “And don’t worry, I'll be fine.” She continued, knowing that the adrenaline rush of what lied ahead was enough to keep her wits about and her eyes opened.

Frankie slipped on the bulky suit, shooting Marvin a sour expression at his comment. But he was right, and as a bonus, they were hideous and smelled like something fierce. The girl gave Marvin a pat on the shoulder as he left to take up his appointed position. “Don’t die, okay?” And she meant it, even while the comment may have seemed off-handed, she was genuine in her tone. She didn't want anyone to die.

With a drawn out sigh, and realizing she was deemed the “support", and probably one of the least combat-savvy of the group, the medic began heading toward the center of the people caravan. She was certainly no stranger to being stuck behind or in the middle, but there was a bit of pride that rose up as well, essentially protesting to stop treating her like an invalid. A “little girl”, as was the typical response.

Of course, even with a handgun, butterfly blade, and a rusty combat knife at her disposal, this was still the time to swallow that hotheaded pride and just survive. “So, um…” She looked over at John with a sheepish grin. “Mind sticking close by?”

Readouts scrawled across the right-hand side of the display, the dim purple tint showing all the important bits of information necessary for continued survival. A soft click engaged the seal of her helmet and the suit at the bottom right lit in green to show a hard seal. Khaliya flexed the fingers of each gauntlet for a moment as she stood in front of the group, testing their responsiveness and quietly going over a full-systems check in her head. Radiation was in the green for now, tolerable but at the upper limits. Armor showed minimal damage, only a few places at less than full integrity. That was expected as getting to New York had not been as uneventful as she would have liked. Still, everything looked good to go, and with her pistols mag-locked to the waist of her power armor, her sword at her hip and the spear holstered next to the pack on her back, there was only the group to be concerned with.

They moved out to something close to what she asked for, though whether it was because she had given the order or they thought it the best idea she couldn't tell, not now at least. At least they know how to carry themselves well enough, even the non-combatants. It was more ideal than any squad-leader could have asked for considering the circumstances, and she wasn't complaining in the least. Not that any of them would consider her squad-leader. Jeremiah took up position behind the group with his laser rifle, to all of them appearing much the same as he did when the two of them first entered the subway, but she knew better. His footing was stiff and even with the helmet on she could tell he was looking past her, not at her. That troubled her, not his disdain for possible enemies in the group but that he seemed concerned regarding her.

Khaliya filed it away, resolving to speak to him later when they made camp inside the city at the first checkpoint. For now, they needed to move while there would still be daylight above ground. She accessed the radio inside her helmet, searching nearby open channels and found the one she was looking for, speaking softly to the entire group.

"Khaliya to group, we're moving out. As I'm sure you've noticed since I'm speaking to all of you directly, your suits have a built-in short-band radio. Should be able to find the controls at the neck of your helmets, but for the sake of easy communication I would recommend leaving it on open channel."

Without another word she moved forward, the headlamp for her armor lighting up the tunnel before them and showing the ruined subway. Here the paint had crumbled from the concrete walls exposing the cracked grey surface underneath, but it held steady despite two-hundred years of neglect and the multiple impacts of the Great War. It was something she was thankful for, not just that it afforded them a safer passage into the Necropolis, but that provided a more direct route to their objective. Marvin had the map given to them with the suits, so she spoke to him first, half-turning in her stride.

"The subway stations should be marked on the map, which one gets us as close to the Consulate as possible? Avoiding the surface for as long as possible would be ideal, as that means having to deal with what's up there less than we have to."

[ Fleetwood Subway Station ]
@Polaris North @Dread

"Looks like I'll be going to the front. Good luck you two."

John locked eyes with Marvin for the brief moment before he turned to join the front of the group. Though he said nothing in response to the Ghoul's farewell, he offered a nod, not dissimilar to the one he gave upon introductions minutes earlier. But something in his eyes looked different. They weren't cold or hostile, but in a way, understanding. John was never one for long, heartfelt goodbyes, especially not with people he'd just met. But this was the best he could do: an unspoken sentiment that Marvin not be the first one killed.

And in that brief flash, the moment had faded, and John was left alone with Frankie.

“Ew, no thanks. Besides, those things will kill you, dude.”

"Suit yourself. I'm banking a bullet's going to kill me before my lungs do." John replied coolly with a loose, almost unnoticeable shrug, letting the lone cigarette join its brothers in his pocket. Ignoring the brief, yet sharp sting of rejection that he, frankly, had not felt in a few years' time, John masked the wound with cynical indifference. Pushing any uncertainty to a dark, rarely-visited corner of his mind, John focused on finishing preparations. Knowing full well he wouldn't be able to keep his holster handy on the bulky hazmat suit, John drew his revolver from his hip, slowly, deliberately so as not to seem threatening. He held it in his hand awhile: a sturdy five-pounds of black-finished metal and hard plastic, it's hefty weight felt more like a steadfast comfort than a burden.

Indeed, the Blaster had seen him through more danger than any other gun he'd used before. But he remembered how much the weight had dragged him down in his youth. It wasn't the metal, the gun itself that burdened him, but it's purpose - all the bloodshed it carried. But it wasn't the gun, was it? Guns were just tools, things, like any other object. No... the burden was him - and him alone. His gun in another man's hands: could make the difference between life-or-death. Could save a family, a settlement, maybe; wielded in defense, to protect, not for murder.

Swallowing back hard, John moved the Blaster to his satchel with the rest of his on-hand equipment. It wasn't an optimal place for fast drawing, but it would have to do while the suits were still necessary. Making sure all hoses, tubes, and connectors were adequately sealed, John twisted the dome-like helmet on with a sharp hiss signaling that a full connection had been established.

Taking a few moments to adjust to the suit's weight, John almost immediately decided that he wasn't a fan. The suit was bulky, clumsy, engineered for protection rather than dexterity. Even the simple action of clenching his fist felt cumbersome and unwieldy, as if the suit was actively resisting motion.

“So, um... Mind sticking close by?”

Turning to see Frankie's smaller form - also suited up - looking towards him, John seemed to take a moment to process her request. Though he wasn't able to see her face past the reflective helmet, he could hear the almost sheepish tone of her voice, as if asking for help, for close company was new to her. John understood that well enough. His own work forced him to walk the lonesome road, to bear all the pain and guilt with nothing but X3's unsympathetic gaze as response. No one to trust in this world but yourself, that was the mindset he had taken and kept for so many years. But maybe he was wrong.

"I'll keep you safe." The words had left his lips before he even had a chance to process them. He hadn't said something like that since... Barnum. And the factory came rushing back. The tense atmosphere: agitated cries and curses of Raiders down echoing tunnels and dark walkways; the foul smell of blood, urine, chems, and booze on stale wind; the unnerving creaks and groans of the Old World setting in its foundations. And the girl locked in her cage. And the detective come to save her.

I'll keep you safe. A foolish promise made by a foolish man. Words he couldn't keep then and can't keep now.

"Khaliya to group, we're moving out. As I'm sure you've noticed since I'm speaking to all of you directly, your suits have a built-in short-band radio. Should be able to find the controls at the neck of your helmets, but for the sake of easy communication I would recommend leaving it on open channel."

Not realizing how long he had been silently standing there contemplating his own thoughts, John nodded once to Frankie - at least, as good a nod as he could muster given the bulk and shape of his suit - before starting behind Khaliya, adjusting his pace and position so hopefully the medic could keep an eye near or on him at all times. Indeed, not having any official instructions aside from staying alert gave John a certain level of freedom, a freedom he would keep to his advantage throughout the journey.

"Khaliya to group, we're moving out. As I'm sure you've noticed since I'm speaking to all of you directly, your suits have a built-in short-band radio. Should be able to find the controls at the neck of your helmets, but for the sake of easy communication I would recommend leaving it on open channel."
A voice suddenly broke the silence of the suit. Believe it or not, the suit does a bang up job in muffling the outside noises to a barely audible sound. He didn't expect the radio in the suit to be so loud, nor did he even expect the hazmat suit to even have a radio built into it in the first place; so when Khalia made her announcement, the sudden crisp and clear voice of the brotherhood star-paladin startles Emil and causes his body to slightly jump. With an almost lightning quick movement, Emil had raised his weapon and aimed it around the area expecting something to happen. With nothing currently threatening him or his group, he quickly lets out a relieved sigh and begins to relax himself.

Some people might say it was a little of an over reaction, but in Emil's line of work, he cannot emphasize how important it is to react to things faster than others. Many times he had nearly been done in by ambushes, traps, or other unexpected surprises and just as many times his reflexes saved him from an untimely death. Emil raises his a hand to access the controls for the radio and after a few seconds of fumbling with the buttons and knobs, he finally manages to reply. "Jeez, ma'm...You nearly made me give up the ghost out of shock there." He lets out an uneasy laugh.

---

---

[ Fleetwood Subway Station ]

Frankie felt safe, at least for the moment, knowing that her new friend John wasn’t going to let her down, regardless of the fact that they didn’t know one another from a hole in the wall. But that didn’t matter in times like this. You pulled your weight, did your job, and hoped the same people you went in with also came back out. It was tough though, for whatever reason, to watch Marvin as he took up his position alone, but maybe that was for the better. She liked him, and even with John -warts and all- his presence was most welcome in a place that was anything but hospitable.

With her camo shoulder bag opened, she did a last minute supply check, before zipping up each of the many pockets to ensure that nothing toxin entered into her equipment. Moments after, the hushed voice of Khaliya sounded over the suit’s helmet radio, which meant it was really time to roll.

“Wow, seems like we’d been waiting forever, and now that it’s time to actually move out, I don’t mind waiting a bit more.” She shrugged, more or less mumbling to herself but no doubt within earshot of the Private Investigator. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to leave the communication channel open on her radio considering she tended to talk to herself, more so as a means of personal therapy in stressful situations. “But hey, I've been in weirder situations I suppose.” The girl always did her best to make light of dark situations, so why would this be any different? She switched the communicator to “hands free".

Following behind John as he fell into position like the others, Frankie found herself tugging at the crotch area of the suit as it uncomfortably rubbed against her inner thigh. “Great.” She mumbled again, forgetting that the suit's comm channel was opened. “Now I'm gonna be chafing before we reach the first checkpoint.”

"Khaliya to group, we're moving out. As I'm sure you've noticed since I'm speaking to all of you directly, your suits have a built-in short-band radio. Should be able to find the controls at the neck of your helmets, but for the sake of easy communication I would recommend leaving it on open channel."
The voice came through her helmet suddenly. And gave the already on edge Monika a startle, but it helped remind her she was still alive, as they made their way through the tunnel.

"Dam, the voices are back again." She thought to herself giving a little chuckle as she switched her radio to the open channel and hands free mode.

Looking back over her shoulder she saw the small Medic girl who'd been chatting with the Ghoul earlier standing close to the man dressed like a detective and thought that she was putting way to much faith in someone she's just met. In a place like this, it's just her and her gun. Sure she might have had a friendly enough conversation with Bailey and eventually Emil. But she still couldn't trust any of them as far as she could spit. Which with the helmet on wasn't very far at all.