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[IC] Ain't that a Kick in the Poker Face [Graviloquence & Little Italy]
- Post-Apocalyptic
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- Western
- 1x1
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Little Italy Trash Panda
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5 yrs ago
Quinn had tracked that godforsaken robot across the entire wasteland, all the way from New Vegas to the tiny town of Goodsprings. She had survived this long by sneaking around and avoiding human interaction, almost as much as she steered clear of the mutated beasts that roamed the desert, in pursuit of Victor, one of Mr. House's many securitrons. Victor, however, tended to have a mind of his own, strangely enough. He had disappeared years ago, when she was very young, but House had not the resources and didn't want to send any other securitrons out into the wastes, lest some gang manage to overpower them and scrap them for parts. Now, she was old enough, and had cabin fever from being cooped up in the city for so long. Finding Victor wasn't exactly at the top of House's priority list, but the delivery of a certain poker chip had been delayed. She had been asked to keep an eye out for its Courier as she searched for the remains of the securitron, unless Victor had somehow managed to survive all these years. She wasn't exactly sure what this chip could do, only that it was important to have all existing securitron units in New Vegas for when it did arrive.
At first, the thought of some adventure seemed rather appealing, a chance to strike out and explore the desert she had left as a child so long ago. Her father had been reluctant to let her leave New Vegas, and the only reason he hadn't gone himself at the very start was due to his health. So she had left well equipped with confidence. She knew how to survive, but surely she wouldn't have to stray too far from he city.
That's what she had thought to herself a month ago. Now she was completely out of her original supplies, filthy, and sick of staring at a burnt red horizon. If she had to put another laser between the eyes of a giant ant, she was going to lose it. Now, she was trudging into the town of Goodsprings at an ungodly hour, not wanting to spend a night without cover, and all she could think about was her bed back home. But, as tired as she was, she was alert enough to catch the faint sound of clanking metal and the sight of lights flashing atop a hill to her right under a sizable water tower. She stopped and hesitated for a moment, debating on whether or not it was worth investigating or even any of her business. Curiosity overcame her, so she scrambled up the side of the hill as quietly as she could, laying on her stomach in the dust once she was near the top and peeking up over the side to look beyond the crude fence. Judging by the makeshift crosses and tombstones, she had come across the town cemetery, and on its far side, she was shocked to see a securitron digging up one of the graves. As there seemed to be no other sign of danger, she slowly hoisted herself to her feet and ducked between the rungs of the fence, pushing her mask up so that it rested on top of her head and revealed her face. The robot turned around abruptly, a shovel in hand, when she said tentatively, "Victor? Is that you?"
The image of a cowboy's portrait flickered on the screen that served as the unit's face, a moment of silence before a country twang responded, "Well, I'll be! I didn't hardly recognize you, Miss Angela!" he greeted, the scars over her blinded eye revealing her identity before she had to explain, "Last I saw you, you was barely this high," the robot raised the his free hand and held it a short ways from the ground.
"Yeah, yeah it's been a while, but, where have you been, and, more importantly, what the hell are you doing?" she gestured behind him at the grave he was digging up. It seemed an odd thing for a robot to be doing, looting corpses, she would probably have to take a look at his circuits to make sure they weren't fried.
Victor wheeled to the side so she could step forward and see what he was pointing to as he explained, "Well, you see, I do believe this young man has done been buried alive."
"Wait, what?" she said, growing surprise and concern in her voice as she quickly jogged up to peer into the shallow grave. Lying in the dirt and covered in dust was a young man, probably not much older than herself, with dark skin a reddish hair, indicating a mixed heritage. However, the most striking thing was the unmistakable gunshot wound in his right temple, still glistening with dark blood and running all over his face. Alarmed, she dropped to her knees and quickly pushed the remaining dirt away from his face and neck and pressing two fingers to his throat. She had expected nothing, he looked to be pretty dead, but sure enough, she was met with a dangerously weak and thready pulse. "Holy shit," she breathed, quickly grabbing one of his arms and attempting to pull him out of his premature grave, "Help me get him out, is there a doctor around here?" she asked, urgency in her tone. She wasn't sure if he would know, but if they didn't get him professional medical help, he was going to be done for. She knew basics, but she was far more versed in machinery than people in general.
"As a matter of fact," he said, dropping the shoulder and helping the young woman lift the half dead man up off the ground, hooking his arms under his shoulders while Quinn picked up his ankles, "Doc Mitchell is the best in the business, and he's right down the road. We'd better hurry though, don't seem like he can hang on too much longer, he replied as he started wheeling his way back down the hill toward the town. Quinn had to jog to keep up, nodding in response. "It's a wonder he's still alive," she said under her breath, more to herself than Victor.
They hurried through the dark, Quinn careful not to trip over potholes in the cracked asphalt as they passed the stores and homes of Goodsprings to a house at the end of the street atop a small hill. Quinn set down the half dead man's feet and hopped up the porch, banging on the door and casting an anxious look over her shoulder. She didn't have much of a reason to be worried about a stranger, but the angle of the bullet wound suggested that he had been on his knees and executed, not simply murdered. For what reason, well, she hoped he would end up being worth the time. She didn't often get tied up in affairs that weren't her own, but it wasn't every day you found a man buried alive after surviving a bullet to the head.
She turned back abruptly when a sleepy man answered the door, older, blading on top, with a silver mustache to match what remained of his hair. "What in God's name-" he began, but before he could finish his sentence, Quinn quickly interrupted, "Doctor Mitchell? This man, he got shot in the head," she stepped to the side so that he could see Victor holding the stranger, "Somebody buried him alive, Victor dug him up," she explained as she walked over to the robot and took his placing supporting the man's shoulders. "Sorry to wake you, Doc," the robot quickly added, "But this poor fella is hangin' by a thread."
"He took a cap in the brain and he's still kickin'?" the docor said, walking forward and picking up his ankles, "Help me get him inside. I'm afraid you won't fit Victor, we'll send 'im to you if he makes it,"
"Thanks a million, doc, y'all fix him up good," Victor said before turning and wheeling off into the night, leaving the two humans to try and save their fellow man. Quinn used her foot to shut the door behind them as they entered the house and walked down the hall into a room with a medical table and other equipment of similar use. They hoisted the unconscious victim onto the table and the doctor set about getting his supplies immediately. Quinn stood silent for a moment, unsure of what to do until he paused and looked at her for a moment. "Well? You gonna help me or not?" he asked pointedly, causing her to nod and step into action. She didn't do too much aside from from helping to clear the blood and then hand him the tools he needed. During the hours that he worked, they said very little, though she did eventually give him her name and mention that she was an old acquaintance of Victor's. Other than some details concerning what she saw when she found their patient, not much else was said.
By the time they had finally finished stitching him up, making sure he was out of immediate danger, and discarding the practically unwearable clothes he was wearing, Quinn had fallen asleep in her chair with her pale blonde head resting against the wall next to the window, the grey dawn creeping up over the burgundy horizon and washing the room in a soft, cold light. Being exhausted himself, Dr. Mitchell decided to go back to bed himself, leaving the half blind girl and the man who survived quite a kick in the head.
At first, the thought of some adventure seemed rather appealing, a chance to strike out and explore the desert she had left as a child so long ago. Her father had been reluctant to let her leave New Vegas, and the only reason he hadn't gone himself at the very start was due to his health. So she had left well equipped with confidence. She knew how to survive, but surely she wouldn't have to stray too far from he city.
That's what she had thought to herself a month ago. Now she was completely out of her original supplies, filthy, and sick of staring at a burnt red horizon. If she had to put another laser between the eyes of a giant ant, she was going to lose it. Now, she was trudging into the town of Goodsprings at an ungodly hour, not wanting to spend a night without cover, and all she could think about was her bed back home. But, as tired as she was, she was alert enough to catch the faint sound of clanking metal and the sight of lights flashing atop a hill to her right under a sizable water tower. She stopped and hesitated for a moment, debating on whether or not it was worth investigating or even any of her business. Curiosity overcame her, so she scrambled up the side of the hill as quietly as she could, laying on her stomach in the dust once she was near the top and peeking up over the side to look beyond the crude fence. Judging by the makeshift crosses and tombstones, she had come across the town cemetery, and on its far side, she was shocked to see a securitron digging up one of the graves. As there seemed to be no other sign of danger, she slowly hoisted herself to her feet and ducked between the rungs of the fence, pushing her mask up so that it rested on top of her head and revealed her face. The robot turned around abruptly, a shovel in hand, when she said tentatively, "Victor? Is that you?"
The image of a cowboy's portrait flickered on the screen that served as the unit's face, a moment of silence before a country twang responded, "Well, I'll be! I didn't hardly recognize you, Miss Angela!" he greeted, the scars over her blinded eye revealing her identity before she had to explain, "Last I saw you, you was barely this high," the robot raised the his free hand and held it a short ways from the ground.
"Yeah, yeah it's been a while, but, where have you been, and, more importantly, what the hell are you doing?" she gestured behind him at the grave he was digging up. It seemed an odd thing for a robot to be doing, looting corpses, she would probably have to take a look at his circuits to make sure they weren't fried.
Victor wheeled to the side so she could step forward and see what he was pointing to as he explained, "Well, you see, I do believe this young man has done been buried alive."
"Wait, what?" she said, growing surprise and concern in her voice as she quickly jogged up to peer into the shallow grave. Lying in the dirt and covered in dust was a young man, probably not much older than herself, with dark skin a reddish hair, indicating a mixed heritage. However, the most striking thing was the unmistakable gunshot wound in his right temple, still glistening with dark blood and running all over his face. Alarmed, she dropped to her knees and quickly pushed the remaining dirt away from his face and neck and pressing two fingers to his throat. She had expected nothing, he looked to be pretty dead, but sure enough, she was met with a dangerously weak and thready pulse. "Holy shit," she breathed, quickly grabbing one of his arms and attempting to pull him out of his premature grave, "Help me get him out, is there a doctor around here?" she asked, urgency in her tone. She wasn't sure if he would know, but if they didn't get him professional medical help, he was going to be done for. She knew basics, but she was far more versed in machinery than people in general.
"As a matter of fact," he said, dropping the shoulder and helping the young woman lift the half dead man up off the ground, hooking his arms under his shoulders while Quinn picked up his ankles, "Doc Mitchell is the best in the business, and he's right down the road. We'd better hurry though, don't seem like he can hang on too much longer, he replied as he started wheeling his way back down the hill toward the town. Quinn had to jog to keep up, nodding in response. "It's a wonder he's still alive," she said under her breath, more to herself than Victor.
They hurried through the dark, Quinn careful not to trip over potholes in the cracked asphalt as they passed the stores and homes of Goodsprings to a house at the end of the street atop a small hill. Quinn set down the half dead man's feet and hopped up the porch, banging on the door and casting an anxious look over her shoulder. She didn't have much of a reason to be worried about a stranger, but the angle of the bullet wound suggested that he had been on his knees and executed, not simply murdered. For what reason, well, she hoped he would end up being worth the time. She didn't often get tied up in affairs that weren't her own, but it wasn't every day you found a man buried alive after surviving a bullet to the head.
She turned back abruptly when a sleepy man answered the door, older, blading on top, with a silver mustache to match what remained of his hair. "What in God's name-" he began, but before he could finish his sentence, Quinn quickly interrupted, "Doctor Mitchell? This man, he got shot in the head," she stepped to the side so that he could see Victor holding the stranger, "Somebody buried him alive, Victor dug him up," she explained as she walked over to the robot and took his placing supporting the man's shoulders. "Sorry to wake you, Doc," the robot quickly added, "But this poor fella is hangin' by a thread."
"He took a cap in the brain and he's still kickin'?" the docor said, walking forward and picking up his ankles, "Help me get him inside. I'm afraid you won't fit Victor, we'll send 'im to you if he makes it,"
"Thanks a million, doc, y'all fix him up good," Victor said before turning and wheeling off into the night, leaving the two humans to try and save their fellow man. Quinn used her foot to shut the door behind them as they entered the house and walked down the hall into a room with a medical table and other equipment of similar use. They hoisted the unconscious victim onto the table and the doctor set about getting his supplies immediately. Quinn stood silent for a moment, unsure of what to do until he paused and looked at her for a moment. "Well? You gonna help me or not?" he asked pointedly, causing her to nod and step into action. She didn't do too much aside from from helping to clear the blood and then hand him the tools he needed. During the hours that he worked, they said very little, though she did eventually give him her name and mention that she was an old acquaintance of Victor's. Other than some details concerning what she saw when she found their patient, not much else was said.
By the time they had finally finished stitching him up, making sure he was out of immediate danger, and discarding the practically unwearable clothes he was wearing, Quinn had fallen asleep in her chair with her pale blonde head resting against the wall next to the window, the grey dawn creeping up over the burgundy horizon and washing the room in a soft, cold light. Being exhausted himself, Dr. Mitchell decided to go back to bed himself, leaving the half blind girl and the man who survived quite a kick in the head.
Little Italy Trash Panda
Member
Seen
5 yrs ago
Because she was so exhausted, Quinn slept in her chair without stirring once. It was only when the sound of the stranger waking up and the action of her head slumping forward abruptly jerked her awake, her eyes flying open as she quickly sat up straight again and inhaled sharply. It took her a second to remember exactly where she was and why she was looking at a man with serious stitches all over his face and he was staring right back at her, but the previous nights events soon came flooding back as she studied his face.
"Hey, Poker Face, you made it through the night," she observed, a mixture of surprised, impressed, and still half asleep. They had dubbed him as such the night previously since they didn't know his name. She turned her head to look out toward the door and called, "Doctor Mitchell? He's awake." Her good eye moved back to the bewildered young man sitting on the bed before her. She wasn't sure how much he would be able to remember of the people who tried to kill him, judging by the gravity of his head injury, but for now he was probably still coming to terms with the fact that he was even still alive. Now that his eyes weren't welded shut by his own blood, she could see that they were hazel, strikingly so, studying her warily, which was understandable considering the circumstances. Plus, she wasn't the easiest face to wake up to, especially after a near death experience.
She stood up with a small stretch as the doctor entered the room, now clad in overalls, a dark pinstripe shirt, and old leather work boots with a red bandana tied around his neck. He looked much more alert now, and sat down in the chair that Quinn had abandoned in order to stand off to the side with her arms crossed and head tilted, resigned to quietly observing. She wasn't really sure if she should stick around, or if it would be better if she just collected her robot and split. She was never really one for people, she wasn't very charming and didn't make friends easily, nor did she have much attachment to Mr. Poker Face over there. However, she had stayed up all night making sure he didn't die, so she at least wanted to see him off, that seemed reasonable.
"Easy there, you've had a rough twenty-four hours, I'd say. You just relax a second, get your bearings, let's see what the damage is," Mitchell said, leaning forward slightly with his elbows rested on his knees, "Let's start with your name. Can you tell me your name?" he asked.
"Hey, Poker Face, you made it through the night," she observed, a mixture of surprised, impressed, and still half asleep. They had dubbed him as such the night previously since they didn't know his name. She turned her head to look out toward the door and called, "Doctor Mitchell? He's awake." Her good eye moved back to the bewildered young man sitting on the bed before her. She wasn't sure how much he would be able to remember of the people who tried to kill him, judging by the gravity of his head injury, but for now he was probably still coming to terms with the fact that he was even still alive. Now that his eyes weren't welded shut by his own blood, she could see that they were hazel, strikingly so, studying her warily, which was understandable considering the circumstances. Plus, she wasn't the easiest face to wake up to, especially after a near death experience.
She stood up with a small stretch as the doctor entered the room, now clad in overalls, a dark pinstripe shirt, and old leather work boots with a red bandana tied around his neck. He looked much more alert now, and sat down in the chair that Quinn had abandoned in order to stand off to the side with her arms crossed and head tilted, resigned to quietly observing. She wasn't really sure if she should stick around, or if it would be better if she just collected her robot and split. She was never really one for people, she wasn't very charming and didn't make friends easily, nor did she have much attachment to Mr. Poker Face over there. However, she had stayed up all night making sure he didn't die, so she at least wanted to see him off, that seemed reasonable.
"Easy there, you've had a rough twenty-four hours, I'd say. You just relax a second, get your bearings, let's see what the damage is," Mitchell said, leaning forward slightly with his elbows rested on his knees, "Let's start with your name. Can you tell me your name?" he asked.
Little Italy Trash Panda
Member
Seen
5 yrs ago
Quinn watched him with eyebrow raised as he processed the doctor's question, as if for a moment, he couldn't remember. But, that didn't last terribly long, and he revealed his name to be Tobias and that he was a courier. Who the hell would want to kill a mailman? What was he carrying that was worth a merciless execution? She smirked, "So much for 'don't shoot the messenger'," she commented quietly, more to herself than the two men, but apparently it was loud enough to hear, because the doc looked at her over his shoulder with a deadpan expression before turning back to Tobias.
"Well, Tobias, I'm Doc Mitchell, and you're in the town of Goodsprings. Now I hope you don't mind, but I had to go rootin' around in your noggin to get all the bits of lead out," here he picked up a mirror and offered it to the young man, "I believe I put you back together alright, stuff that matters anyway. Quinn here," he gestured back toward the half blind girl, who gave a two fingered salute when her name was said, "And the metal fella, Victor, dug you up and brought you here. We didn't think you were going to make it for a while there, but here you are," he said with a shake of his head, "How are you feeling? Ready to get back on your feet?" he asked, standing up from his chair.
Quinn furrowed her brow. "Are you sure about that, Doctor? Tobias here just made like Lazarus, shouldn't he take it easy?" she asked with a slight tilt of her head, looking at Tobias than back at the doc. She was no medical expert, but whenever she repaired a securitron, they didn't just put it right back out on the streets. People were a lot more fragile than that. It was still beyond her how he had managed to survive a bullet to the head. She considered herself pretty sturdy, but there was no way she would be able to walk away from the same thing.
"Well, Tobias, I'm Doc Mitchell, and you're in the town of Goodsprings. Now I hope you don't mind, but I had to go rootin' around in your noggin to get all the bits of lead out," here he picked up a mirror and offered it to the young man, "I believe I put you back together alright, stuff that matters anyway. Quinn here," he gestured back toward the half blind girl, who gave a two fingered salute when her name was said, "And the metal fella, Victor, dug you up and brought you here. We didn't think you were going to make it for a while there, but here you are," he said with a shake of his head, "How are you feeling? Ready to get back on your feet?" he asked, standing up from his chair.
Quinn furrowed her brow. "Are you sure about that, Doctor? Tobias here just made like Lazarus, shouldn't he take it easy?" she asked with a slight tilt of her head, looking at Tobias than back at the doc. She was no medical expert, but whenever she repaired a securitron, they didn't just put it right back out on the streets. People were a lot more fragile than that. It was still beyond her how he had managed to survive a bullet to the head. She considered herself pretty sturdy, but there was no way she would be able to walk away from the same thing.
Little Italy Trash Panda
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Seen
5 yrs ago
Quinn was slightly surprised that he had laughed at her pun, but it did make her glad she had made the decision to stick around and help drag him out of his grave, judging by his seemingly kind demeanor and grateful response to Doc Mitchell's explanation. He appeared to be a good guy who just had a run of some seriously bad luck. She wasn't usually inclined to go out of her way to help anyone really, but she was starting to be glad she had made an exception this time. Decent folks were starting to become a rare commodity, especially where she was from, so it was nice to think her good deed for the decade was keeping one more good man in the land of the living. Now she could take her robot back to the New Vegas in good conscience. She didn't think she would want to do much traveling after that, the comfort and safety of Lucky 38 was highly preferable to the unpredictability and danger of the wastes.
She instinctively took a step forward when Tobias wobbled to his feet, but, surprisingly, he seemed to be holding up well. The doc held out a hand to make sure he was steady before nodding, "Just make sure you take it easy there. I'll be right back, I'll get your things," he said, turning and leaving the room.
"Before you go off delivering your mail or exacting your revenge on whoever put a cap in your noggin," Quinn said as she uncrossed her arms and tucked her hands in her pockets, "You should say hi to Victor. He was pretty anxious about you when we yanked you out of the ground." She still wasn't sure how the robot had even come across Tobias or what even possessed the machine to dig him up in the first place. Still, he would be glad to see the courier on two feet and in one piece.
Mitchell reentered the room a few moments later with a backpack in one hand and what appeared to be a vault suit wrapped around something in the other. He handed Tobias the backpack, "This was everything you had on you. And this," he offered the vault suit and unwrapped the contraption underneath, "Is a suit from the vault I grew up in. Doesn't really suit me now, but our town is sensitive to modesty," he joked with a chuckle, "You can take this Pip-Boy too. No use in it sittin on my shelf gathering dust, I don't use it no more," he added.
She instinctively took a step forward when Tobias wobbled to his feet, but, surprisingly, he seemed to be holding up well. The doc held out a hand to make sure he was steady before nodding, "Just make sure you take it easy there. I'll be right back, I'll get your things," he said, turning and leaving the room.
"Before you go off delivering your mail or exacting your revenge on whoever put a cap in your noggin," Quinn said as she uncrossed her arms and tucked her hands in her pockets, "You should say hi to Victor. He was pretty anxious about you when we yanked you out of the ground." She still wasn't sure how the robot had even come across Tobias or what even possessed the machine to dig him up in the first place. Still, he would be glad to see the courier on two feet and in one piece.
Mitchell reentered the room a few moments later with a backpack in one hand and what appeared to be a vault suit wrapped around something in the other. He handed Tobias the backpack, "This was everything you had on you. And this," he offered the vault suit and unwrapped the contraption underneath, "Is a suit from the vault I grew up in. Doesn't really suit me now, but our town is sensitive to modesty," he joked with a chuckle, "You can take this Pip-Boy too. No use in it sittin on my shelf gathering dust, I don't use it no more," he added.
Little Italy Trash Panda
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5 yrs ago
Doc Mitchell chuckled and Quinn smirked at Tobias's quip as the former nodded, "I haven't used that old thing in years. Figured someone such as yourself could probably use it. Good luck out there, and don't go getting killed again anytime soon, yah hear? Take care, you too," he directed his last comment at Quinn as he walked the pair to the front door, Quinn already standing outside in the dry heat. She nodded and smiled in reply, but otherwise said nothing to him.
"I'll help you find Victor, I need to take him home anyway," she said after Tobias had bid a farewell to the doctor who had saved his life. She was still surprised that he felt well enough to be up and about; whatever Doc Mitchell had done worked far better than she ever would have expected. The gift of a pip boy was no small gesture either, they were pretty rare now and she had witnessed someone kill for one back in New Vegas. It would certainly be a useful tool for his line of work, being a courier and all. Her father had one, and kept her mother's too, but both had long since been broken, and while he was perfectly capable of fixing them, chose not to, for whatever reason.
Quinn started down the dirt path leading from the house to the road, not exactly sure where Victor would have rolled off too, but she figured it wouldn't be too difficult to find him at this rate. She shrugged her duster on and shoulder her backpack, looking over her shoulder to make sure Tobias was following. "So, um, do you remember who shot you, or why?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.
"I'll help you find Victor, I need to take him home anyway," she said after Tobias had bid a farewell to the doctor who had saved his life. She was still surprised that he felt well enough to be up and about; whatever Doc Mitchell had done worked far better than she ever would have expected. The gift of a pip boy was no small gesture either, they were pretty rare now and she had witnessed someone kill for one back in New Vegas. It would certainly be a useful tool for his line of work, being a courier and all. Her father had one, and kept her mother's too, but both had long since been broken, and while he was perfectly capable of fixing them, chose not to, for whatever reason.
Quinn started down the dirt path leading from the house to the road, not exactly sure where Victor would have rolled off too, but she figured it wouldn't be too difficult to find him at this rate. She shrugged her duster on and shoulder her backpack, looking over her shoulder to make sure Tobias was following. "So, um, do you remember who shot you, or why?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.
Little Italy Trash Panda
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5 yrs ago
Quinn noticed Tobias struggling to keep up and slowed down a bit, glancing over at him when he asked about Victor. "Of sorts," she replied, "He's been away for a while though." She didn't want to say anything about her affiliation to House, she was under strict orders not to. Mr. House had carefully cultivated a reputation of ominous, mysterious power. For all anyone else knew, Lucky 38 was completely empty save for House and his robots. She and her father were purely there for maintenance purposes, and came and went through secret channels.
At his answer to her question, she shrugged, "I'm sure it'll come back. You're lucky to even have your life at this point. Although, I could show you where we dug you up, maybe that'll jog something?" she suggested, gesturing toward the water tower standing tall against the sky in the distance. She had never had to deal with memory loss herself, but she could imagine how frustrating that could be. Especially in a situation as dire as Toby's. She had shortened the courier's name in her head, but she wasn't sure how he would feel about a nickname, so she decided to keep it to herself.
She paused once they had reached what could be classified as the center of town, turning to Toby. "I'm not exactly sure where to find Victor. Maybe we can stop in the bar and ask if anyone has seen him?" she suggested. After all, it was pretty hard to miss a giant robot, and it was possible that he had lived here for most of his absence from the Strip. She wasn't one for asking for help from anybody, usually, but she was also starving, having not eaten since early the day before and still rather drained from the events of the night previous.
At his answer to her question, she shrugged, "I'm sure it'll come back. You're lucky to even have your life at this point. Although, I could show you where we dug you up, maybe that'll jog something?" she suggested, gesturing toward the water tower standing tall against the sky in the distance. She had never had to deal with memory loss herself, but she could imagine how frustrating that could be. Especially in a situation as dire as Toby's. She had shortened the courier's name in her head, but she wasn't sure how he would feel about a nickname, so she decided to keep it to herself.
She paused once they had reached what could be classified as the center of town, turning to Toby. "I'm not exactly sure where to find Victor. Maybe we can stop in the bar and ask if anyone has seen him?" she suggested. After all, it was pretty hard to miss a giant robot, and it was possible that he had lived here for most of his absence from the Strip. She wasn't one for asking for help from anybody, usually, but she was also starving, having not eaten since early the day before and still rather drained from the events of the night previous.
Little Italy Trash Panda
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5 yrs ago
Quinn nodded at his agreement and feel into step beside him as they headed toward the bar. She was sore from having awkwardly slumped in a chair all night, but she had gotten used to sleeping in uncomfortable places at this rate. A chair in a house was better than a dumpster beside an abandoned gas station. She hadn't had the chance to really get a good look at Goodsprings before, having arrived very late at night initially and then being asleep for most of the day. Goodsprings didn't look unlike any other little town she had seen in the wasteland: virtually ruined buildings on the foreground of a burnt red horizon. She could now see the water tower where she had dug up Tobias in the first place rising on a hill behind the main street. She would take him there once they were finished inquiring after Victor.
She followed Tobias into the bar, looking around at the interior once she had shut the door behind them. When he inquired as to whether or not she thought anyone was here, she raised an eyebrow and pointed wordlessly into the other room, where a man could be seen seated on a stool at the counter, and a middle aged woman behind it. Quinn didn't pay them too much mind as Tobias led the way and asked the woman about Victor. As her companion seemed to be fine with doing all the talking, she remained silent beside him as she listened to the conversation. The woman, now identified as Trudy, didn't seem too bad until Victor was brought up. Quinn crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes into a steely scowl when she spoke of the kindly securitron with disdain. If it were not for the long since healed lacerations over her right eye, she wouldn't have looked very intimidating, but she noticed Tobias cast her an anxious glance and resumed a neutral expression. She wanted to defend Victor, but this woman didn't seem worth the confrontation.
"He," Quinn interjected after Trudy's final comment, speaking up for the first time, and looking non too happy, "Thank you for your time," she added sharply, though it didn't sound very sincere as she turned and started to leave the way they had come in. She had never been very good at first impressions, considering her general lack of social grace coupled with her off-putting appearance, but she usually made an effort to at least be gracious. However, she did not appreciate the way that Trudy spoke of her old friend. He had become "defective" when she was very small, but instead of rewiring the AI, her father had left him as is. There weren't many kids on the strip, and she was far safer with Victor than she was with anyone outside Lucky 38. She remembered being very sad when he disappeared, not understanding why and being unable to go out and find him. It had been relieving to find him functioning and still doing the weird things he had always been doing.
She had noticed the schoolhouse the night before, but hadn't paid it too much mind at the time. She paused once outside to make sure that Tobias was still with her before continuing forward, still looking quite displeased. She wouldn't dwell on it now, Trudy didn't know what she was talking about; she had probably never even spoken to the old robot. It was then that she realized that Tobias probably hadn't realized that Victor wasn't an actual person, but a robot, a securitron at that, which were supposed to only be on the strip, not wandering the wastes.
"He's a securitron," she stated, looking over at the courier, "His AI is fried so he thinks he's a cowboy. Friendly, though. If it weren't for him, I never would have found you in that graveyard," she added, "I'm not sure what drove him to go dig you up, but she doesn't know what she's talking about."
Tobias seemed like a good guy, judging my his manners and attitude, but she wanted to make sure that he understood that Victor wasn't malicious. She wasn't sure what ulterior motive a robot could have in saving someone's life in the first place, especially a stranger's. Regardless, from here she would take the old tin man and be on her way, all the way back to New Vegas. She was sure he would come back if she asked, though remembering how stubborn he was, it could take a little persuasion.
As they neared the old schoolhouse, Quinn took careful note of the mantis prowling behind the rusted chainlink fence among the dilapidated playground equipment. It didn't seem to notice them, but she had her hand on her laser pistol anyway. She didn't want to waste her ammunition unless it actually decided to come after them. However, skirting quietly around the establishment caused it to pay them no mind, so she relaxed once again. She now spotted the old shack that Trudy had spoken of, and soon after, caught sight of a securitron's unmistakable frame. "Victor!" she called and raised her left hand to catch his attention. The robot turned around at the sound of her voice, hesitating a moment before exclaiming, "Well, I'll be!" and rolling toward them, coming to a halt a couple feet away, "It's good to see you miss Angela, and it looks like we got our dead man walkin' again," he said, the image of a cowboy smoking a cigar flickering across the grainy screen as he spoke to them in his familiar twang.
She followed Tobias into the bar, looking around at the interior once she had shut the door behind them. When he inquired as to whether or not she thought anyone was here, she raised an eyebrow and pointed wordlessly into the other room, where a man could be seen seated on a stool at the counter, and a middle aged woman behind it. Quinn didn't pay them too much mind as Tobias led the way and asked the woman about Victor. As her companion seemed to be fine with doing all the talking, she remained silent beside him as she listened to the conversation. The woman, now identified as Trudy, didn't seem too bad until Victor was brought up. Quinn crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes into a steely scowl when she spoke of the kindly securitron with disdain. If it were not for the long since healed lacerations over her right eye, she wouldn't have looked very intimidating, but she noticed Tobias cast her an anxious glance and resumed a neutral expression. She wanted to defend Victor, but this woman didn't seem worth the confrontation.
"He," Quinn interjected after Trudy's final comment, speaking up for the first time, and looking non too happy, "Thank you for your time," she added sharply, though it didn't sound very sincere as she turned and started to leave the way they had come in. She had never been very good at first impressions, considering her general lack of social grace coupled with her off-putting appearance, but she usually made an effort to at least be gracious. However, she did not appreciate the way that Trudy spoke of her old friend. He had become "defective" when she was very small, but instead of rewiring the AI, her father had left him as is. There weren't many kids on the strip, and she was far safer with Victor than she was with anyone outside Lucky 38. She remembered being very sad when he disappeared, not understanding why and being unable to go out and find him. It had been relieving to find him functioning and still doing the weird things he had always been doing.
She had noticed the schoolhouse the night before, but hadn't paid it too much mind at the time. She paused once outside to make sure that Tobias was still with her before continuing forward, still looking quite displeased. She wouldn't dwell on it now, Trudy didn't know what she was talking about; she had probably never even spoken to the old robot. It was then that she realized that Tobias probably hadn't realized that Victor wasn't an actual person, but a robot, a securitron at that, which were supposed to only be on the strip, not wandering the wastes.
"He's a securitron," she stated, looking over at the courier, "His AI is fried so he thinks he's a cowboy. Friendly, though. If it weren't for him, I never would have found you in that graveyard," she added, "I'm not sure what drove him to go dig you up, but she doesn't know what she's talking about."
Tobias seemed like a good guy, judging my his manners and attitude, but she wanted to make sure that he understood that Victor wasn't malicious. She wasn't sure what ulterior motive a robot could have in saving someone's life in the first place, especially a stranger's. Regardless, from here she would take the old tin man and be on her way, all the way back to New Vegas. She was sure he would come back if she asked, though remembering how stubborn he was, it could take a little persuasion.
As they neared the old schoolhouse, Quinn took careful note of the mantis prowling behind the rusted chainlink fence among the dilapidated playground equipment. It didn't seem to notice them, but she had her hand on her laser pistol anyway. She didn't want to waste her ammunition unless it actually decided to come after them. However, skirting quietly around the establishment caused it to pay them no mind, so she relaxed once again. She now spotted the old shack that Trudy had spoken of, and soon after, caught sight of a securitron's unmistakable frame. "Victor!" she called and raised her left hand to catch his attention. The robot turned around at the sound of her voice, hesitating a moment before exclaiming, "Well, I'll be!" and rolling toward them, coming to a halt a couple feet away, "It's good to see you miss Angela, and it looks like we got our dead man walkin' again," he said, the image of a cowboy smoking a cigar flickering across the grainy screen as he spoke to them in his familiar twang.
Little Italy Trash Panda
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5 yrs ago
"Victor, this is Tobias," Quinn gestured to the man at her side, relieved that Tobias was amiable toward the old robot. Back in New Vegas, nobody much liked the securitrons due to the fact the functioned as automated police. They were typically given a wide berth. Having grown up alongside Victor, she was comfortable and familiar with the funny looking machines.
Victor gave the a mock salute as he replied, "Think nothin' of it. Saw a couple of bad eggs skulking up by the old water tower to find you. Surprised you was still kickin', that's when Miss Angela showed up. So we hauled you off to Doc Mitchell. Aside from that mark on your noggin, seems like he got the job done."
“You didn’t happen to know the men that shot him? Or remember anything notable about them?” Quinn asked, casting a sideways glance at Tobias. She knew that if she were in his shoes, she would be hellbent on tracking the bastards down and making them pay for trying to put her six feet under.
”I’m ‘fraid not,” Victor’s tone became sullen, ”I wasn’t close enough to see and they were long gone by the time I rolled up.”
“Well, it's just lucky you were in the area to begin with,” Toby added placatingly, though it was obvious he was slightly disappointed by this news. “It’s odd, though. They had to be after something I had, but they didn't take everything. I can't say I've had a chance to check through my belongings yet, but for someone to go to all the trouble of killing a guy for someone else’s delivery… Must have been one heck of a valuable package.”
Quinn looked at Toby with a frown. “A delivery?” she asked, arching her eyebrow and cocking her head, “You’re… a courier,” she guessed, her mind going back to before she had started this crazy errand. House had asked her to keep an eye out for a courier carrying a poker chip. He hadn’t told her what significance it had, only to be watchful. House never did anything without intent, so whatever this chip was, it must be valuable. Quite possibly valuable enough to put a bullet through the poor delivery guy’s head.
Victor didn’t say anything, the only sound coming from the robot being the tiny whirrs and beeps of his mechanism hard at work. For a normally chatty and responsive fellow, she found it odd that he chose not to comment on Toby’s musings.
“Apparently, according to what Doc Mitchell said he found on me,” Toby replied with a slight shrug. “Can't say I actually remember what I was supposedly carrying, because, well, you know.” He gestured at his head wound offhandedly.
Suddenly, his eyes lit up, and he snapped his fingers as he announced, “Maybe I still have something that tells me what I was delivering before I got into this mess. Excuse me for a moment.”
He proceeded to turn his attention to the messenger bag the doc had given him, and rummaged around for a few moments until his hand brushed against a folded sheet of paper. The young man pulled it out and unfolded it, squinting slightly as the harsh midday sun made the paper almost painful to look at. As he angled himself so that his shadow fell over it and he could really see its contents, a confused frown overcame his face before twisting into a look of utter bewilderment. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He shook his head, seeming as if he couldn't believe what he'd just read.
Quinn exchanged a look with her robot friend, who’s eternally smirking cowboy who now held something other than a cigar, a kind of vibe she had never once gotten from the old securitron. She watched with narrowed eyes and quirked eyebrow as Tobias reached for the note and unfolded it. A part of her wanted to lunge forward and see its contents, but she wasn’t that rude.
“What is it?” she asked, sounding a little more interested than she otherwise should have. If he was the courier of the chip, then maybe he would have more answers about what it was for, that is, if he could remember. A blast to the head was a pretty debilitating injury, especially in the memory department. House was also a secretive sort, and there was a good chance that he wouldn’t have revealed what the chip was for.
“I think whoever tried to do me in must’ve had a ridiculous obsession with pre-war paraphernalia, because I was apparently en route to bring somebody a gambling chip,” he let out a humorless laugh at this, offering the paper to Quinn as he hadn't missed her obvious intrigue. “If that's the case, I can't imagine any sort of person that would go out of their way to kill a guy over a useless knick knack. What could possibly be so important about that thing?”
Unlike Tobias, Quinn failed to find the humor in the situation, now not entirely sure if she should reveal what she knew to this stranger or not. Then again, he had been entrusted with the chip, whatever its purpose, and it had nearly cost him his life. Whoever had shot him must be an enemy of House to go so far as to take the chip.
“You we’re supposed to deliver it to the strip? To the Lucky 38?” she asked even before he handed her the note. She accepted it when offered and studied its contents. Sure enough, the instructions were clear as crystal and highly simple. There were no names or dates, just where the chip needed to be taken. “What do you know about the person who ordered this… chip?” she asked tentatively. Victor was still silent, suddenly and strangely distant.
“Sure seems like it,” he replied, frowning at her mention of his client. Who had he been employed by? He hadn't even been able to remember his own profession - trying to recall what he had been doing seemed to be even less of a possibility with that in mind. Sighing frustratedly, he answered, “I… I can’t remember. I know I should be able to, but there's just nothing there.”
He paused for a moment, considering something. “Somebody’s got to have seen whomever tried to get rid of me, though. There's no way they could have passed through here completely unnoticed, surely.”
Quinn pursed her lip and frowned when he stated that he couldn’t remember. His memories might come back, they might not, but for better or for worse, this courier was connected to her employer. House had always been a mysterious sort, and despite having lived in the Lucky 38 for most of her life, she barely knew a thing about him or who he really was. Her father had never questioned it, just happy for a relatively safe place to raise his daughter comfortably, but the older she got, the more she wanted answers. And now, with the appearance of Tobias and this poker chip, whatever House was up to was dangerous and it was getting innocent people hurt. She was starting to wonder what she was really getting herself into.
”We could ask around town,” she suggested, handing the note back to him, ”There’s a good chance they stopped through here searching for you,” she pointed out. She wasn’t exactly one to help people out of the kindness of her heart, but in aiding Tobias, she could get answers of her own too. Plus, he seemed like a fairly decent person, the kind that wasn’t common in the wastes and especially not in New Vegas.
Tobias accepted the paper and tucked it back into his bag, pausing when she offered to look around with him. He honestly hadn't expected to have much help with this. Considering she had already gone out of her way to save his life earlier, the courier had gotten the impression that Quinn intended to get on with her own business within the day. Taking this offer as one coming from sincere generosity, his expression turned into a mix of gratefulness and embarrassment. “I certainly appreciate the offer, but I’d hate to keep you waiting around here if there’re other things you need to do, miss. You’ve done so much for me already, and I’d hate to waste more of your time…”
It then occurred to Quinn that her offer to help might seem strange, considering she had no outward attachment or involvement with his plight, other than having yanked it out of an early grave. She wasn’t sure whether or not it would be wise to reveal her interest in the chip and why she was keen on finding it too. For now, she would keep that to herself. She could determine whether or not he was trustworthy later when she learned more.
”Oh, um, it’s really no trouble,” she assured him, ”Unless you don’t want poking around your business, I mean, you don’t really know me, but,” she paused and looked over at Victor for a moment, who was still strangely silent. ”I think we can help each other,” she finished, turning her eyes back to Tobias and crossing her arms, ”You’re headed toward New Vegas, as am I, and I don’t have to tell you how dangerous it is doing so alone.”
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean that. Thank you,” Tobias amended as he realized she had taken his hesitance for lack of trust, “Thank you very much. That’s a very kind offer. Though I’m not sure I’ll be headed there without what I was supposed to have first. Something tells me it might be a bad idea to show up to my employer empty-handed. Although never going there at all doesn’t seem like much of an upstanding course of action, either. I really hope we’ll be able to find some sort of a lead here-”
Suddenly, his head snapped up, eyes filled with newfound determination. “Even if no one saw my attackers, it’s possible they’ve left traces of their presence behind. Things someone else could identify. Where exactly did you two find me?”
”In the graveyard up by the water tower,” Quinn replied gesturing back toward the looming structure in the distance, ”I can show you. Here, you can borrow this,” she pulled off her backpack and knelt on the ground, rummaging through it and withdrawing a 10mm pistol and a few rounds and offering it to him, ”Just until you get something. You go on ahead, I’ll catch up with you. I need to talk to Victor for a minute,” she said, standing up again and shouldering the bag.
“Thanks, and that sounds like a plan. I’ll see you in a bit, then,” Toby said with a nod, taking the weapon and ammunition she offered him before starting off in the direction of the Goodsprings cemetery.
Quinn waved as he turned to go before she looked back at Victor. ”What’s going on?” she asked bluntly, furrowing her brow and placing her hands on her hips. She didn’t want to beat around the bush with the old robot. She knew he had to know something and she wanted answers.
He hesitated a moment. ”I’m not rightly sure,” came his rather unconvincing reply, ”Seems to be like we got a mystery on our hands. Best run along after him and see what you can find.”
The pale haired girl narrowed her eyes with suspicion, but it was clear she would get nothing more from him. ”I came all this way to take you back to New Vegas. House needs you back, and I’m not sure why, but I can’t leave here without you, understand?” she said, dropping her hands to her sides again and arching an eyebrow at Victor.
”Don’t worry, Miss Angela, it’s time for me to come home,” he replied cryptically, ”Run along now, that boy’s gonna need your help. Find the chip, get it to Mr. House.”
”This sounds like a goodbye,” she stated flatly, now more confused than when she first started talking to him. He knew something about this damn poker chip, she could tell by the way he spoke, but for whatever reason, he wasn’t telling her why it was important, why House needed it so badly. ”Just come with me,” she insisted, taking a few steps in the direction Tobias had gone.
”Nah, I’ll just slow you down, they don’t much like me over in town. I’ll be here when you’re ready to leave,” he replied, and not waiting for her retort, swiveled around and wheeled back toward the little shed.
Quinn watched him go silently, not bothering to call after him. Frustrated, she closed her eyes and exhaled sharply before turning and jogging in the direction the courier had gone. She had a bad feeling about what she was starting to get herself mixed up in, but with her connection to Victor and strong ties to House, it didn’t seem like she had too much of a choice. She needed to know what was going on and how Tobias fit into all this. There was a good chance he knew something vital but simply couldn’t remember because of his head injury. There was certainly no harm and only gain from helping him find the men who nearly murdered him, because they had the chip and must know what it’s worth to have gone to so much trouble to track down and kill the mailman.
Victor gave the a mock salute as he replied, "Think nothin' of it. Saw a couple of bad eggs skulking up by the old water tower to find you. Surprised you was still kickin', that's when Miss Angela showed up. So we hauled you off to Doc Mitchell. Aside from that mark on your noggin, seems like he got the job done."
“You didn’t happen to know the men that shot him? Or remember anything notable about them?” Quinn asked, casting a sideways glance at Tobias. She knew that if she were in his shoes, she would be hellbent on tracking the bastards down and making them pay for trying to put her six feet under.
”I’m ‘fraid not,” Victor’s tone became sullen, ”I wasn’t close enough to see and they were long gone by the time I rolled up.”
“Well, it's just lucky you were in the area to begin with,” Toby added placatingly, though it was obvious he was slightly disappointed by this news. “It’s odd, though. They had to be after something I had, but they didn't take everything. I can't say I've had a chance to check through my belongings yet, but for someone to go to all the trouble of killing a guy for someone else’s delivery… Must have been one heck of a valuable package.”
Quinn looked at Toby with a frown. “A delivery?” she asked, arching her eyebrow and cocking her head, “You’re… a courier,” she guessed, her mind going back to before she had started this crazy errand. House had asked her to keep an eye out for a courier carrying a poker chip. He hadn’t told her what significance it had, only to be watchful. House never did anything without intent, so whatever this chip was, it must be valuable. Quite possibly valuable enough to put a bullet through the poor delivery guy’s head.
Victor didn’t say anything, the only sound coming from the robot being the tiny whirrs and beeps of his mechanism hard at work. For a normally chatty and responsive fellow, she found it odd that he chose not to comment on Toby’s musings.
“Apparently, according to what Doc Mitchell said he found on me,” Toby replied with a slight shrug. “Can't say I actually remember what I was supposedly carrying, because, well, you know.” He gestured at his head wound offhandedly.
Suddenly, his eyes lit up, and he snapped his fingers as he announced, “Maybe I still have something that tells me what I was delivering before I got into this mess. Excuse me for a moment.”
He proceeded to turn his attention to the messenger bag the doc had given him, and rummaged around for a few moments until his hand brushed against a folded sheet of paper. The young man pulled it out and unfolded it, squinting slightly as the harsh midday sun made the paper almost painful to look at. As he angled himself so that his shadow fell over it and he could really see its contents, a confused frown overcame his face before twisting into a look of utter bewilderment. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He shook his head, seeming as if he couldn't believe what he'd just read.
Quinn exchanged a look with her robot friend, who’s eternally smirking cowboy who now held something other than a cigar, a kind of vibe she had never once gotten from the old securitron. She watched with narrowed eyes and quirked eyebrow as Tobias reached for the note and unfolded it. A part of her wanted to lunge forward and see its contents, but she wasn’t that rude.
“What is it?” she asked, sounding a little more interested than she otherwise should have. If he was the courier of the chip, then maybe he would have more answers about what it was for, that is, if he could remember. A blast to the head was a pretty debilitating injury, especially in the memory department. House was also a secretive sort, and there was a good chance that he wouldn’t have revealed what the chip was for.
“I think whoever tried to do me in must’ve had a ridiculous obsession with pre-war paraphernalia, because I was apparently en route to bring somebody a gambling chip,” he let out a humorless laugh at this, offering the paper to Quinn as he hadn't missed her obvious intrigue. “If that's the case, I can't imagine any sort of person that would go out of their way to kill a guy over a useless knick knack. What could possibly be so important about that thing?”
Unlike Tobias, Quinn failed to find the humor in the situation, now not entirely sure if she should reveal what she knew to this stranger or not. Then again, he had been entrusted with the chip, whatever its purpose, and it had nearly cost him his life. Whoever had shot him must be an enemy of House to go so far as to take the chip.
“You we’re supposed to deliver it to the strip? To the Lucky 38?” she asked even before he handed her the note. She accepted it when offered and studied its contents. Sure enough, the instructions were clear as crystal and highly simple. There were no names or dates, just where the chip needed to be taken. “What do you know about the person who ordered this… chip?” she asked tentatively. Victor was still silent, suddenly and strangely distant.
“Sure seems like it,” he replied, frowning at her mention of his client. Who had he been employed by? He hadn't even been able to remember his own profession - trying to recall what he had been doing seemed to be even less of a possibility with that in mind. Sighing frustratedly, he answered, “I… I can’t remember. I know I should be able to, but there's just nothing there.”
He paused for a moment, considering something. “Somebody’s got to have seen whomever tried to get rid of me, though. There's no way they could have passed through here completely unnoticed, surely.”
Quinn pursed her lip and frowned when he stated that he couldn’t remember. His memories might come back, they might not, but for better or for worse, this courier was connected to her employer. House had always been a mysterious sort, and despite having lived in the Lucky 38 for most of her life, she barely knew a thing about him or who he really was. Her father had never questioned it, just happy for a relatively safe place to raise his daughter comfortably, but the older she got, the more she wanted answers. And now, with the appearance of Tobias and this poker chip, whatever House was up to was dangerous and it was getting innocent people hurt. She was starting to wonder what she was really getting herself into.
”We could ask around town,” she suggested, handing the note back to him, ”There’s a good chance they stopped through here searching for you,” she pointed out. She wasn’t exactly one to help people out of the kindness of her heart, but in aiding Tobias, she could get answers of her own too. Plus, he seemed like a fairly decent person, the kind that wasn’t common in the wastes and especially not in New Vegas.
Tobias accepted the paper and tucked it back into his bag, pausing when she offered to look around with him. He honestly hadn't expected to have much help with this. Considering she had already gone out of her way to save his life earlier, the courier had gotten the impression that Quinn intended to get on with her own business within the day. Taking this offer as one coming from sincere generosity, his expression turned into a mix of gratefulness and embarrassment. “I certainly appreciate the offer, but I’d hate to keep you waiting around here if there’re other things you need to do, miss. You’ve done so much for me already, and I’d hate to waste more of your time…”
It then occurred to Quinn that her offer to help might seem strange, considering she had no outward attachment or involvement with his plight, other than having yanked it out of an early grave. She wasn’t sure whether or not it would be wise to reveal her interest in the chip and why she was keen on finding it too. For now, she would keep that to herself. She could determine whether or not he was trustworthy later when she learned more.
”Oh, um, it’s really no trouble,” she assured him, ”Unless you don’t want poking around your business, I mean, you don’t really know me, but,” she paused and looked over at Victor for a moment, who was still strangely silent. ”I think we can help each other,” she finished, turning her eyes back to Tobias and crossing her arms, ”You’re headed toward New Vegas, as am I, and I don’t have to tell you how dangerous it is doing so alone.”
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean that. Thank you,” Tobias amended as he realized she had taken his hesitance for lack of trust, “Thank you very much. That’s a very kind offer. Though I’m not sure I’ll be headed there without what I was supposed to have first. Something tells me it might be a bad idea to show up to my employer empty-handed. Although never going there at all doesn’t seem like much of an upstanding course of action, either. I really hope we’ll be able to find some sort of a lead here-”
Suddenly, his head snapped up, eyes filled with newfound determination. “Even if no one saw my attackers, it’s possible they’ve left traces of their presence behind. Things someone else could identify. Where exactly did you two find me?”
”In the graveyard up by the water tower,” Quinn replied gesturing back toward the looming structure in the distance, ”I can show you. Here, you can borrow this,” she pulled off her backpack and knelt on the ground, rummaging through it and withdrawing a 10mm pistol and a few rounds and offering it to him, ”Just until you get something. You go on ahead, I’ll catch up with you. I need to talk to Victor for a minute,” she said, standing up again and shouldering the bag.
“Thanks, and that sounds like a plan. I’ll see you in a bit, then,” Toby said with a nod, taking the weapon and ammunition she offered him before starting off in the direction of the Goodsprings cemetery.
Quinn waved as he turned to go before she looked back at Victor. ”What’s going on?” she asked bluntly, furrowing her brow and placing her hands on her hips. She didn’t want to beat around the bush with the old robot. She knew he had to know something and she wanted answers.
He hesitated a moment. ”I’m not rightly sure,” came his rather unconvincing reply, ”Seems to be like we got a mystery on our hands. Best run along after him and see what you can find.”
The pale haired girl narrowed her eyes with suspicion, but it was clear she would get nothing more from him. ”I came all this way to take you back to New Vegas. House needs you back, and I’m not sure why, but I can’t leave here without you, understand?” she said, dropping her hands to her sides again and arching an eyebrow at Victor.
”Don’t worry, Miss Angela, it’s time for me to come home,” he replied cryptically, ”Run along now, that boy’s gonna need your help. Find the chip, get it to Mr. House.”
”This sounds like a goodbye,” she stated flatly, now more confused than when she first started talking to him. He knew something about this damn poker chip, she could tell by the way he spoke, but for whatever reason, he wasn’t telling her why it was important, why House needed it so badly. ”Just come with me,” she insisted, taking a few steps in the direction Tobias had gone.
”Nah, I’ll just slow you down, they don’t much like me over in town. I’ll be here when you’re ready to leave,” he replied, and not waiting for her retort, swiveled around and wheeled back toward the little shed.
Quinn watched him go silently, not bothering to call after him. Frustrated, she closed her eyes and exhaled sharply before turning and jogging in the direction the courier had gone. She had a bad feeling about what she was starting to get herself mixed up in, but with her connection to Victor and strong ties to House, it didn’t seem like she had too much of a choice. She needed to know what was going on and how Tobias fit into all this. There was a good chance he knew something vital but simply couldn’t remember because of his head injury. There was certainly no harm and only gain from helping him find the men who nearly murdered him, because they had the chip and must know what it’s worth to have gone to so much trouble to track down and kill the mailman.
(Collab: Part 1)
Little Italy Trash Panda
Member
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5 yrs ago
Quinn smiled at Toby’s final statement and nodded, wordlessly tailing the courier back toward town. Goodsprings was so quiet and empty compared to Freeside and the Strip, and while the peace was nice, it was strange. She missed the bustle of the ruined city she called home. It was rather lonely here out in the wastes. Which, she supposed wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, it had its advantages, but it wasn’t for her. She was looking forward to going back, she hadn’t been separated from her father for an extended period of time in a very long while. Still, she was thoroughly intrigued with Tobias and how he was tied to the man she had been working and living with since she was seventeen. It was all very odd.
She followed her new companion into the Saloon, the sound of a heated discussion meeting her ears as they stepped through the threshold. She wasn’t particularly interested in what the scruffy looking man was arguing about with Trudy, though the name Ringo was mentioned. Not that the title meant anything too her. She had been subject to worse disputes in her day. However, her eyes narrowed when the man roughly pushed Toby aside and was headed for her, though she sidestepped before he could touch her, the jackass taking another moment to stare as he left before disappearing back out into the wastes. Probably leering at her damaged eye. She was used to it at this rate.
Tobias asking Trudy about the disagreement brought her attention toward the bar, crossing the room to stand next to him as he questioned the bartender. Apparently Ringo was in trouble with the Powder Gangers. Nasty bunch, she had spotted a tussle between them and a few raiders, but avoided the conflict while she was tracking Victor. She wasn’t sure how she felt about Tobias volunteering them to aid the town, but her expression remained neutral, not indicating whether or not she was in favor of or against the idea. On one hand, she wanted to get the hell out of dodge as soon as possible, but on the other, she wasn’t going to risk Tobias getting put six feet under a second time. She needed to know what role he played in all this. Plus, he seemed very kind and was nice to her. People like that were hard to come by.
Her face changed when the Great Khans were mentioned. Of course she knew them, how could she not? Though not directly Strip affiliated, they weren’t an uncommon sight in the casinos, and the wastes were crawling with them, as she had discovered in her recent travels. What would they want with House’s poker chip? It had to be more than just a game piece. It was something important enough to kill over, now she just had to find out what it did that made it so valuable. She pursed her lip and crossed an arm over her abdomen, lifting her other to rub her chin as she thought.
”The Great Khans, absolutely. They’re one of the bigger gangs in the Mojave. Bunch of assholes, I tend not to mess with them. I’m just glad they haven’t sunk their teeth into the Strip just yet,” she explained, pausing for a moment and putting her hands on her hips. Her eyes stared off into the distance as if recalling unpleasant memories before she looked back at Tobias and continued, “The suit, I can’t say it rings a bell, people wear some weird stuff out there. But if those thugs that did this to you really are with the Great Khans, I’ll bet they’ll be heading back to the city, especially if they’re moving up toward Quarry Junction.”
This was a solid lead, and it gave her a lot to think about. Maybe Victor might know something. He was obviously hiding information from her, and she was dying to know why the robot was suddenly so secretive. Regardless, she was going to find out what was going on, with or without the securitron’s help.
“So,” she went on, “Where might we find that Ringo guy? Sooner we get him out of here, the sooner we can catch the bastards that capped you in the noggin.” Being helpful wasn’t really her style, but he seemed set on helping the town so maybe she could speed up the process. Tobias seemed like kind of a Yes-Man type, but genuine in that he really wanted to help, to her surprise. Not naive, just, nice. She just hoped that wouldn’t get him killed. Again.
When Quinn mentioned she did know of the Khans, Tobias listened to her impression of them thoughtfully, the side of his mouth quirking upwards as he heard her talk about how unpleasant they were. I knew tracking down these guys wasn't gonna be easy, but that doesn’t make the prospect of going after them any more exciting. Not sure I have any other options than that if I want to find out why they needed me dead, but still. The knowledge that she was as clueless about the guy in the checkered suit as Trudy wasn’t exciting, either, but from what he could surmise, it sounds like his primary pursuer was definitely from The Strip, and either had ties with the Khans that let him use them as backup, or he’d paid them handsomely to assist him in his strange quest. And while he knew nothing of its significance, Toby was intelligent enough to gather that the chip he’d been carrying must’ve been more than just that.
“They sound lovely,” the courier commented dryly, “But if they’re headed back to the city, it’s likely they’re still with the guy I’m - we’re - looking for.”
It still felt a little odd, having someone traveling with him now. Though his recent memory might be completely and totally obliterated, it was evident to him that he was very accustomed to traveling solo. But, provided he didn’t do anything stupid that would put his new companion into danger, it might prove to be a pleasant change. He wasn’t used to people sticking their necks out for him, and he hoped to be able to repay the favor.
As they walked out of the saloon, Toby replied to her question about Ringo’s whereabouts, hypothesizing, “If I was a guy trying to stay outta dodge around here, I’d either pick the old school-house or the gas station. And considering the school yard is swarming with mantises, I think it’s a safe bet to say he’s in the latter of the two. Certainly doesn’t hurt to start there, I’d think.”
He paused for a moment, a slightly guilty look crossing his face. “By the way… Sorry for jumping to volunteer both of us in there. You don’t have to take any part in this if you don’t want to, I wasn’t thinking when I spoke. I just got carried away with trying to repay this community with what they’ve done for me, and I’m an idiot for not asking your input beforehand.”
Tobias’ deduction of Ringo’s location made sense to Quinn, so she saw no reason to disagree. “We can check there first then,” she replied, turning and heading in the direction of the long abandoned structure.
At his apology, she was silent for a moment before shrugging nonchalantly. ”Well, normally I would stay out of it, but considering I went to all the trouble pulling you out of an early grave, I’ve got to make sure no one puts you there again. Seems like a waste,” she said, looking over at him with a smirk. Her tone was good natured, not accusatory or bitter in the least. While lending a hand certainly wouldn’t be her first instinct, she could appreciate his sentiment and respect his courtesy. All they had to do was convince this guy to skip town, right? That shouldn’t take long, and then they could take Victor and make their way back to the Strip to get to the bottom of all this strange platinum chip business.
“Thanks. Nevertheless, from here on out, I'll do my best not to drag you into anything you'd rather not take part in.” Tobias rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, the two then falling into silence.
He pushed open the door to the ruined gas station carefully, going first but holding it ajar for Quinn to follow, in the off chance that there was trouble within. This proved to be a relatively smart move, as he heard the barely audible sound of something clicking, and turned just in time to see a [need description of Ringo] pointing a caravan rifle squarely at his chest. “Oh,” He couldn't say he'd expected to be in this kind of situation again this soon.
“That’s close enough. Who are you, and what do you want with me?”
“Woah, easy there. I’m not here to start trouble.” Tobias raised his hands nom-threateningly. “I just came up here because Trudy told me you've got bad folks after you, and it's starting to prove dangerous to the others in town. I was hoping there was something I could do to help.”
The man visibly relaxed at Toby’s reassurance, his gun now positioned at a non-threatening angle. “Sorry about the gun. You just caught me off guard, that's all. But you heard right.”
“So what was it that caused these guys to come after you like this?”
“My caravan was on the return trip from California and heading back up to the company branch in New Vegas when we got jumped. Not even a ‘drop your weapons and hands up’ before the bullets started flying. We put up a good fight, but there was too many of them. I took a few of the bandits down before I ran, so I figure their friends are out for revenge.”
Quinn entered the gas station after Tobias, and upon seeing an armed man, who she assumed was Ringo, her first instinct was to put a hand on the holt of her pistol. However, her companion was quick to talk him down, so she relaxed once more, automatically crossing her arms as she listened to what Ringo had to say.
”So, you’re just going to hide out here huh?” she asked bluntly, raising an eyebrow. She made no comment about the loss of his caravan, her focus was on finding a way to fix this powder ganger problem so that they could get a move on.
“I’m laying low for as long as I can,” he explained, eyeing Quinn briefly, “assuming the town doesn’t throw me to the wolves,” he turned his attention back to Toby, “I’ve got no chance against the gang on my own.”
The pale haired young woman was getting a hunch as to where this situation was headed. They weren’t going to be able to coax this guy out until the gang was dealt with, which probably meant lethal force. She exchanged a look with Tobias, though her own expression was fairly neutral and gave no indication as to what she was thinking. She had kind of resigned herself to following his lead at this point for the sake of finding this platinum chip and getting to the bottom of what was really going on concerning the House situation.
Tobias frowned, seeing where this was going and feeling a bit uncertain about it. As his eyes met Quinn's, he noted that she wasn't attempting to influence him one way or another. He figured this was probably because she knew as well as he did what the inevitable outcome of this conversation was to be. “I’m guessing safely skipping town wouldn't be a likely possibility for you then, would it?”
“‘Fraid not,” Ringo replied, a joyless, tired smile on his face as he added, “Chances are I’d be dead within a few minutes of leaving this building. There's no way I can see out of this that won't end in bloodshed.”
“I see,” Tobias conceded, offering tentatively, “Well, maybe there's something we could do to help?”
“Thanks for the offer, but we'd just end up sharing the same grave if it’s just the three of us against the Powder Gangers. Now, if some of the other people in town were also on board…”
Quinn didn’t like where this was going, but she knew exactly what Ringo was insinuating. “So your going to expect these people to fight the Powder Gangers for you?” She asked bluntly with a raised eyebrow. She couldn’t say she was surprised, but that didn’t change the fact she annoyed.
Although, she realized that she probably wasn’t helping their case and scratched the back of her head sheepishly and looked at the floor. “Uh, I guess we could ask around though,” she amended, “The Powder Gangers are a bunch of shit heads,” she added, looking up once more and crossing her arms.
“Thanks. I'd suggest starting with Sunny Smiles. She’s been friendlier than most around here.”
“Alright. We should be back relatively soon, then.” Toby announced, turning towards the door.
“Yeah.”
The Courier was anything but enthused by the idea of spending his first day recovering from a nearly fatal head wound charging headlong into another potential skirmish, especially with clearly violently-minded individuals on the opposing side, but it’d sit poorly on his conscience to leave Ringo to certain death, especially if it meant the Powder Gangers would potentially use that otherwise inevitable outcome to start pushing around other Goodsprings residents. Since Goodsprings had harbored the trader in the first place, that put them, albeit indirectly, in danger. All he could really hope for now was to get this matter resolved as cleanly as was possible.
As soon as they exited the gas station, Toby sent Quinn an apologetic look. “Can’t say I was expecting him to try and get even more people involved, but maybe if we get enough people armed and willing to help, we could intimidate the Powder Gangers into backing off.”
The expression on Quinn’s face was akin to someone who had just tasted something exceedingly sour or foul as she stared down Ringo with her good eye, turning to follow Toby back out into the heat of the maturing day. If it had been left up to her, the Powder Gangers could have him; Ringo’s breed was a common one in the wastes, the kind that didn’t mind letting others’ blood be shed to save some skin. But Tobias seemed set on getting him out of the scrape the ex-trader had wound up in. The courier’s kindness and patience caught her off guard, though she would never comment on that.
She cast a glance over at him and shrugged when he spoke, ”They’re a bunch of bullies. Chances are, they’ll slink off at the sight of opposition. Especially if we can manage to use their own weapon against them.” By that, she meant explosives, of course. If the townsfolk lobbed a few dynamite if the thugs approached, it’d be over real quickly. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that, but things usually tended to pan out in favor of violence, at least in her experience.
”So,” she went on, looking over at the town with a furrowed brow, ”Any idea where we could find this ‘Sunny Smiles’?” she asked, tucking her hands in the pockets of her duster. He seemed much more ready to deal with the townspeople than she was, and might have a better idea as to how they could locate the whereabouts of this woman.
Tobias looked thoughtful as he nodded in acknowledgement of Quinn’s suggestion. “If we can get any, that’d be a good start. I can't say I know the first thing about dynamite and grenades and such, but I'm sure someone here does.” Truthfully, he was a little apprehensive about the idea of a two-sided explosives fight, but if that's how the Powder Gangers operated, this was a situation where fire might be successfully fought with fire.
When she mentioned Sunny Smiles, he merely shrugged. “No idea. We could always check with Trudy again, but maybe Victor would know, too.”
Quinn’s expression changed when Tobias suggested asking Victor. ”We could start with him before bothering Trudy again. We might be able to get his help too. Securitrons pack a lot of fire power,” she pointed out. Besides, the robot had been hanging around here for quite some time, so he might very have an idea of where they could find Sunny.
Not really waiting for an answer, she started off toward Victor’s shack at a brisk pace, tugging her hood over her loose pale hair to shield her from the sun. She was prone to burn very easily despite having spent the first half of her life mostly outdoors. Isaac told her she got that from her mother. Along with everything else; she looked nothing like him save for in their mannerisms.
Tobias hurried to keep up with her, feeling a bit more winded than he felt he deserved to for how little walking he had actually done that day. He hoped that he’d build back what endurance he’d lost over the next couple of days, but one way or another, he was going to have to tough it out. His impaired vision wasn't doing him any favors, either - he briefly wondered if he’d be any good in this fight against the Powder Gangers, considering that everything more than twenty yards out appeared to be indistinguishable, almost greasy smudges of color to him. So long as they don't have snipers, it shouldn't be a problem, he tried to reassure himself, allowing himself to be pulled away from that train of thought as the two approached the personable Securitron.
“Howdy, pardners! What can I do for you two?” Victor said by way of greeting, sounding as chipper as ever.
”Hey, Victor,” Quinn greeted the securitron, her tone exceedingly warm compared the frost she used minutes ago with Ringo, ”You wouldn’t happen to know where we might Sunny Smiles, hm? There’s trouble brewing with the Powder Gangers and we were told she could help,” she explained, peering at him from the shade of her hood.
“Powder Gangers, huh? Nasty fellas. Well, Miss Smiles is usually hanging around the Prospector Saloon, so y’all best start there. Red hair, got a dog that follows her around,” he replied, gesturing back toward town.
Quinn was silent for a moment. ”A, uh, dog, you say?” she said, both eyebrows raised an a lip pursed before continuing, ”Thanks for your help. Also, one more thing. Should things go south and turn violent, would you come lend a hand?” she asked, clasping her hands together in a pleading fashion.
Without hesitation, Victor agreed, “Well of course! Count me in.”
Quinn smiled and nodded, “Thanks Vic, take care,” she said as she turned to Toby to see what his input would be on the new information.
Toby listened politely as the two conversed, paying attention but happy to let Quinn do the talking. When their conversation ended and she turned towards him, he smiled appreciatively at her, saying, “That was smart thinking, asking Victor to help us out. The more of us involved in this thing, the less likely it is anyone’s going to get hurt too badly.” He paused, rolling his shoulders back languidly before starting to walk in the direction of Trudy’s saloon. “Once we’ve got Sunny on board, we should hopefully be a few steps closer to getting this whole mess over with.”
(Collab: Part 3)
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