Little Italy

Sᴋʏʀɪᴍ ᴘʀᴘ w/ Lɪᴛᴛʟᴇ Iᴛᴀʟʏ

Broooo I feel you no sweat I'm dying over here

Ain't that a Kick in the Poker Face [Graviloquence & Little Italy]

"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.

(Collab: Part 1)

Sᴋʏʀɪᴍ ᴘʀᴘ w/ Lɪᴛᴛʟᴇ Iᴛᴀʟʏ

Elle followed after Nil, although she was practically trotting to keep up with his long stride. Being about as familiar with Whiterun as he was, she was content to let him lead the way and keep an eye out for the blacksmith. She was about to comment on the fact she remembered seeing it at the entrance to the city, but it seemed that he had already spotted it and picked up the pace. She would have to remind him to walk a little slower later, seeing as they had reached the forge. The young women hard at work hammering out a sword on the anvil paused her labor to reply to Nil when he addressed her. She stood at Nil's side and listened to the exchange quietly, furrowing her brow when the blacksmith mentioned the price then went on to say that the armor would not be available for quite some time. She looked up at Nil only to find him already staring back at her with- was that hope?

It then occurred to her that he may want to persuade the blacksmith to hurry the order on account of her status. This was very new to her, as she had never had much to her name and hardly any skill for persuasion anyway. The fact she now had a degree of power and importance to her station was very strange, and she didn't know how she felt about using it to get what she wanted. But, they were on an important mission that could affect all of Skyrim, so it wasn't like she was lying. She recalled when she had first met Nilovas when they had been captured by the Imperials and how he didn't have much problem at least trying to use an air of self importance against their captors. While it hadn't exactly worked, she had taken a few notes. Although, he had changed quite a bit since then, despite the fact the Helgen had only been days ago. Who knew that they'd be here now.

She sighed and gave Nil a slight nod. "Um, if I may," she began, stepping forward with an apologetic smile and pushing loose hair behind her ear, "It's of the utmost importance that he has suitable armor, because the jarl has charged us with the protection of Whiterun against the dragons," she explained. Which wasn't wrong, he had made her thane, so she would ultimately be defending Whiterun from dragons.

"I know there's a civil war and you must be very busy, but the dragons aren't going to pick a side, and we can't do our job until my friend has been properly outfitted for the task," she added, gaining more confidence as she spoke. She didn't want to pull the dragonborn card, since she wasn't sure whether or not such a claim would be taken seriously. Plus, she didn't want to have to prove it. The shouting still scared her.

She cast a glance back at Nil, whether for input, approval, or support, she wasn't sure. She just hoped that the woman would consider her words and cut them a better deal. Elle's request seemed reasonable to herself, but she wasn't sure how her little argument would be received. She still needed to purchase a sword, which she was fairly sure that the smith would already have on hand, but maybe she could use the extra business as persuasion should she still refuse.

Niente è Vero [Graviloquence & Little Italy]

Idk man. That's crazy

Niente è Vero [Graviloquence & Little Italy]

Holy shit we made this thing two years ago I feel so old

Ain't that a Kick in the Poker Face [Graviloquence & Little Italy]

Take your time hon

Ain't that a Kick in the Poker Face [Graviloquence & Little Italy]

Sure that'd be greatly appreciated!

Ain't that a Kick in the Poker Face [Graviloquence & Little Italy]

Looks pretty good to me man! I'm gonna have to rewatch some playthroughs to get a general idea of what he says again but I'll do that as soon as I can. I don't have class tomorrow so I should be able to

Ain't that a Kick in the Poker Face [Graviloquence & Little Italy]

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.

Ain't that a Kick in the Poker Face [Graviloquence & Little Italy]

Well naturally. Ain't no party like an aggressive party.