The Wasteland's Finest (Zalgo vs. Kristie vs. Cryppy)

First topic message reminder :

"AWWWOOOO! Hey there, children, it's me, Three Dog! How you kids handlin' Post-Apocalyptia today?"

Welcome to theworld after the world. The remains of Washington D.C., to be exact. You and I are part of a caravan crew, roaming around the wasteland, selling our wares, which mostly are made up of weapons, ammo, clothing, Stimpacks, and random junk.

We've been like this since we were kids, best friends and all. Both of us grew up in the settlement of Megaton, where a live atomic bomb sits at the middle in a small pool of water and the walls are made of scrap metal from old airplanes and such.

We just had a big sale of recon armor and power armor for the Brotherhood of Steel and are on the way to their base of operations, the Citadel, located within the ruins of the Pentagon building. We're travelling from Girdershade, which is deep within Enclave territory. Unfortunately, the Enclave and the Brotherhood of Steel are at war. Who will we ultimately side with in this war for the Capitol Wasteland?

Key to colors:
White=text.
Indigo and brown Indicate what I'm saying.
Red is Three Dog speaking on Galaxy News Radio.
Green is John Henry Eden speaking on Enclave Radio.
Blue is random NPC's talking.
Cyan will be the character known as "The Lone Wanderer". We'll get to him later.

Zalgo pulled out his 10mm, cocking it and aiming it at the Raider's right ear. "Nonlethal head. Aim for the ears. She'll feel the suffering she dished out to others, only hers will be 10-fold." He said before firing. The raider cried out in pain.

"Please! Anything! I-I'll change! I promise! Just help me!" She screamed, desperation showing in her voice.

"That's what I hate about Raiders. Put them through some suffering, and suddenly they want to help you instead of stringing you up by your ears and roasting your fingers in the oven." He said, stepping on her chest and leaning down, folding his arms and resting them on his knee so his face was only about two feet from hers. "It's despicable." He pulled his head back, applying massive pressure to the girl's chest before removing his foot.

Nonlethal.. I can do nonlethal. Did you know you can stab the torso in over 20 different places, causing no internal bleeding, and damaging no major arteries? You’ll just lay there until the pain eventually causes you to black out.. Which can take quite a while if someone is there to keep you awake. I doubt we’re going to spend that much time on this Raider, but it’s a lovely though, isn’t it?! “I think I might..” I said, in almost a whisper as I bent to my left. I rolled up the leg of my pants until it uncovered my calf, revealing a strap that pocketed a good size knife. Nothing special about the design.. Just an ordinary knife, with an intensely sharp blade though. I’m rather proud.

I walked over to the girl, grabbed her by her hair and lifted her head about a foot off the ground. She positioned herself so that the pulling of her hair wasn’t so painful, and I could help but grin widely. “Oh, does that hurt? Here, I’ll let go.” With her hair in my left hand, and the knife in my right, I slashed a layer of skin with her hair clean off. I didn’t cut down to the skull; only about half way through the thick layer around the skull. The chuck I sliced off was about 3 inches in diameter, and left a pink, exposed section of skin on her head. Thankfully she screamed, means she’s still alive.

"Alright, Kristie. Remember, we're on a deadline." Zalgo said, pushing a button on his Pip-boy.

"People of the Capital Wasteland, it is I Three Dog, your ruler. Hear me, and obey! Oh sorry, that's that other radio station."

Zalgo rolled his eyes, stepping towards the metal staircase to Rivet City. Three Dog was cool, but sometimes he overdid it.

"The master of adventure himself, that rough and tumble lad from Vault 101, has really outdone himselfthis time. The kid has recovered one of this country's most important historical artifacts -- the Declaration of Independence. Huzzah! The time of British oppression is finally over! Now we can finally turn our attention to the super mutants, raiders, and radscorpions."

"Oh, now he's PRAISING that fucker? Hypocrite." Zalgo said annoyed.

That bloody piece of shit Vault Dweller is getting on my last nerve. One moment, he's the scum of this Earth, the next, people are falling at his feet! Fuck.. And I thought the Wastelands were bad before. He can take his fucking Independence bullshit and shove up his ass! That boy better hope he never runs into us again, and if he does, he might as well take a pistol and eat one. If I get my hands on the filth, I'll kill him slower, and with more pain than this Raider. Oh.. I'd detail his death out on blueprints. Ah, speaking of the Raider.. She's still alive, isn't she?



"You still breathing, bitch?" I asked, and kicked the woman in her side, hearing her grunt in the added pain. "Yeap, she's still kickin'. So, do we leave her, or find a nice, steep hill with sharp rocks, toss her down and hope for the best? Personally, I think our bullets would do more use in someone else's skull." I finished, referring to the Vault Dweller. It didn't matter if he picked up on that, but it's who I wanted to spend my rounds on.

"Kristie. Finish her with her medicine.' zalgo said, motioning to the raider's severed hands, still limply clutching the Rippers. The ong "Blue Moon", sung by Frank Sinatra was playing on the radio. The raider's whimpering was getting softer as her life was slowly slipping away.

"Course, it might be more fun to blow her to tiny bits. Just sayin'." He said, smiling. He could be cruel if he wanted. He didn't have anyone to answer to.

There was no way we could sell both Rippers.. Not after this; me getting a chance to actually use them. And on the owner, a Raider! Luck was on our sides today, God knows how long it'll be, but it is. "Watching her scatter would be a sight.. But," I walked over to the closest Ripper, and picked it up, the Raider's hand still clutching onto it. I unbent a couple fingers and tossed the lifeless thing to the Raider's side, so she could get a look at it. "feeling the light pressure of her being sliced against this thing, isn't something I'm passing up." Mhmmm.. Maybe a bit too descriptive, but I have a tendency of thinking out loud sometimes. Oh well!

I kicked the Raider over so that she was facing me, her back against the dry dusty ground. "Torso.. Or head." Looking at her face, I couldn't help but smile and let her know I was going to enjoy this more than she can imagine. Oh, it would be the head.. I have an idea afterwards. Not giving her a chance to say a word, cry, scream, make any sort of sound, the Ripper decapitated the bitch. The world just got a drop better with one less Raider in the world. I set down the Ripper next to her body, grabbed her head by the hair, and looked around for my bat. "Kristie steps up to the plate." I announced, picking up the bat and grinning. I tossed the head high into the air, and gripped the bat quickly with both hands. "Here comes the pitch!" As the head came shooting back down, I swung the bat and set it flying across the empty Wasteland. "Home run mother fucker!"

I knelt next to the water's edge. The Geiger counter on my hip clicked incessantly.

"This is the end of the line." I murmured quietly. For I knew it was true. The Lonesome Road ended in D.C. D.C itself from the look of it was an irradiated Hellhole. It was a dust bowl of residual Fallout. It looked untouched throughout the entirety of the two hundred years following the Great War. The radiation was so thick a haze developed over the sky.

I looked up into that domed overcast which hung lazily above my head. I felt myself longing for the clear fresh water lakes of my native Nevada. The scent of fresh air off a lake. Here the water was brown and thick like soup.

I lifted myself up from the waters edge carefully scooping the tail of my trench coat up so it didn't touch the sludge lapping at the shoreline.

The lonely calls of "Blue Moon" echoed from the camp directly behind me. It was a Raider's wharf on the remains of the Potomac. I shook my head remembering Nevada's smaller tribes and raiders... These "men" if the irradiated beasts could even be considered human weren't in tribes. They didn't even speak English or a language.

I walked into the camp next to the beds and a recently doused fire. An assault rifle sparkled in the light, beside it lay the body of a man. He fumbled with the safety as I entered the camp. I knew he'd fire. But he couldn't ready himself.

"Idiot" I mouthed. He never stood a chance, I drew my revolver before he raised the rifle. One bullet in his right cheek. Another one on the pyre. I pulled off my helmet and gas mask. I rubbed my coarse facial stubble. The reflection in the mirror I had strapped to the helmet showed a few gray hairs in that black stubble... Grunting I pulled the helmet back on, before securing the lower portion of the gasmask in place.

Earlier that hour I had searched the camp, finding little to salvage what food I found I could tell was irradiated. Not the small nodules and growths I knew... But huge mutations. But it was food. Considering I hadn't threw it up yet was a good sign.

By the time I finished that thought I was on the move... Where, I didn't know. I came from the southwest, passing a large gated tower. Someone or something took potshots at me from the upper balcony. Through my scope it looked like an old man in a red suit. Probably a tribal madman protecting his home. I followed a trail east and eventually, ended up outside D.C on the old Potomac river, which smelled of ash and made my Geiger counter tick in warning.

I needed to find someone non-hostile. Hopefully a settlement or vault settlement. Preferably a control vault, like Vault City. Any leads would aid in my pursuit. Any aid be it mercenary or monetary was needed.

I slung my rifle over my shoulder and continued on my tired walk towards the ruins of an airship carrier clutching a photograph taken in the Hub so many years ago...

Zalgo chuckled. Let Kristie have her fun with the raider, that's what he thought whenever he let her, dare he say, have her way with them. "Alright, now that that's over with, check the pockets. You know the drill, chems, stimpacks, ammo, anything worth its weight in caps." Zalgo called to her, waving his hand a bit.

He started up the metal staircase. From the top of it the view was... Well, it was something, that's for sure. The irradiated ruins might not've bensomething to look at, but they were home. Speaking of home, he thought he saw the tip of Megaton's walls...

"Hey, Zalgo! How've things been since we met?" A voice behind him said.

Zalgo turned, pistol in his hand, aimed directly at the Dweller behind him, clutching a rolled up piece of paper that he could only assume was the Declaration of Independence. "Give me a reason not to shoot, Harry. Me 'n' Kristie knew Brian's father, why send him into SLAVERY?!"

Harry raised his hands. "Wait, slavery? What're you talking about? The folks at Paradise Falls said they'd take good care of him, not sell him!"

"Cut the act, Vault asshole, you did it for the caps, didn't ya?" Zalgo said, gripping the pistol tighter.

"No, I'm serious! I was tricked, honestly! You've gotta believe me!" Harry said, desperation in his voice. Zalgo stepped forward, the barrel of his 10mm hitting Harry's forehead.

"And why do I have to believe you? I'm the one with the gun." Zalgo growled.

"Because my dad can clean the water around here!" Harry shouted, absolute terror shown on his face. Zalgo pulled back a little, keeping the pistol aimed at Harry's forehead, but no longer touching it.

I could hear Zalgo and someone else shouting from around the corner and up the staircase. I'd just finished searching the pockets of our very, very dead friends, and sadly there wasn't much, but I guess something is better than nothing. I'll show him when I get up to him. I didn't hear any gun shots, so he's either kicking some ass, or he/she.. It, isn't threatening. Just incase, I don't think I'll make a lot of sound going up.

I got to the stop, and saw three things. Zalgo, some dude, and Zalgo's gun. So.. Why does he have his gun out, but hasn't shot anybody? Wait.. Who is.. NO. NO. OH. Life is too perfect. I had to hold my mouth just so I wouldn't burst out in histarical laughter at how amazing this moment is. It's that fucking asshole, Harry! And he hasn't killed him yet! Waiting for me to? Awwwh, how sweet!

I crouched down, and quickly walked up behind them. Harry flinched slightly, so I'm guessing he heard my steps. Before he, or Zalgo, could say shit all, I got up, "STUPID WASTE OF FUCKING BREATH," kicked the prick in the back of knee and sent him crouched down on the ground. He cried out a bit, but he didn't have much time to talk given what I did next. I whipped out my Magnum, held it backwards and used the club of it to strike him hard in the head. It made a beatitful sound when they made contact, and the blow knocked him right out. "That. Felt. Just.. FUCK. Why didn't you kill him? Was he a present? OOOOOH this is going to be fun! So, should we capture and starve some Radscorpions, than through him into the pit and watch him get eaten alive.. Slowly? Or should we peel all nine layers of skin off throughout the corse of a week? Personally, a quick death is too generous." I even embarassed myself by jumping once up and down like a little girl. I never thought we'd be the ones to get to kill this filth, but here he is!

ooc: Brian Wilks? Harry's a prick...

"CAREFUL! He's got the Declaration still!" Zalgo said kneeling down. He checked the kid's pulse. Still beating. Great. "I wonder what he meant by that..." Zalgo muttered to himself, checking Harry's pockets. He looked... Different from before. His Vault suit was dustier and he got it armored. Looked like Moira's handywork. Three Dog did say he had defused the bomb in Megaton.

"We'll take him to the proper authorities here in Rivet City." Zalgo said, hoisting him upon his shoulders. "We're businessfolk. We gotta see where we can turn a profit at every turn. Speaking of which..." He added, grabbing the Declaration from Harry's hand. "He won't need this where he's going, eh?" He said, restarting his climb up the metal stairs.

I didn’t want to give him to the authorities. I didn’t want to give him to anyone! I want to lock him in a fucking BOX with rats, and have him die by a combination of starvation AND being eaten by the little fucks! How could he put a price on this man?! We’ve wanted to kill him, we’ve wished to kill him, we have him, and Zalgo is turning him in?! The Declaration would get us more than what we need, Harry was.. A worthless ass that doesn’t deserve the spec of space he takes up on this blasted Earth! BUT.. This was a pointless thing to go off about. Zalgo knows I want to kill him, knows I want to have that honor. It would turn into a screaming match between the two of us.. We don’t fight. We disagree, but don’t fight. When something doesn’t go your way in the Wasteland, you cheat. It’s what everyone does. So, I’ll cheat. We’ll hand him in, I won’t bicker.. But there’s nothing stopping me from killing him after we get our pay.

“Too be honest, I didn’t think the club of this thing would be that effective. I’m glad I got a test subject in finally.” I called up, putting the Magnum away and following up the stairs.

"Shut up." I muttered. She kept murmuring in a language I didn't understand. It sounded like what the Baja Mexican tribes spoke. Something close to Spanish.

I lifted a finger up to where my mouth was under the gasmask. She nodded.

I pulled out my knife and she squealed. "Sssh!" I whispered harshly as I reached around her. Her bound hands were rapidly clenching together. She squirmed and murmured more. She was hogtied and held fast in this dirty old tent.
I brought the knife down to her wrists and started to slice the dirty rope strands that held her.

"I don't know why they don't just kill you." I muttered as the bonds were cut on her hands and feet.

She rolled over and backed away from me, murmuring in that language again.

I shook my head and replaced the blade. I lifted my arm and flipped my wrist to a small beaten watch sown into the duster's bracers. I flicked it a few times, to make sure it was working. The second hand clicked along at a normal speed.

I looked over at the woman, now making her way for the tend flap. I pointed to it and she lifted up and ran off into the ruined street and cement barriers.

Now that she was gone I looked down at my wrist again, under the watch was a compass, likewise sewn into the cloth. I let it rest, and eventually it found north. I was heading east out of the camp towards the carrier I seen on my walk south of the Potomac, near that unsettling "Tobar" guy.

I checked the nearly empty tent once more, finding nothing but a few bullet casings.

I lifted up from the crouch, my knees cracking in protest and walked outside of the tent.

Outside I stretched out my arms, my vertebra cracking much like my knees. I looked to my right, seeing the women by the thickened river, trying in vain to wash the blood off of her cheek with the grey and sludgy water. She turned and looked at me, wide-eyed. She seemed to be more trusting, but still fearful.

I pointed east towards where the rusting tanker would be, presumably in sight around the next bend.

"Are you coming with me? There's a settlement just over there," she shook her head in response, lifted my right arm and pointed with both arms to show more emphasis, "Right past the building."

She muttered something Spanish sounding. I regretted not bothering to learn in when I was back in California.

"Come. With. Me."

She pointed west, through the ruins of D.C to the Wasteland.
"I.. Go... Paradisio, west."

I gave her one last chance, and she frowned and shook her head once more. She pointed west and beckoned me, like she wanted me to follow.

I raised my hands and shook my head. Through the red tinged lenses of my helmet I seen a cloud cross her grimy face.

"I'm looking for a Rivet City."

She nodded. She then pointed to herself, and then to the west.

I shrugged and announced my departure east. The woman likewise lifted herself up and walked the opposite way.

It was only forty meters or so from the campsite before I heard two voices and footsteps. Heavy awkward limping steps. From ahead of me, coming from the water's edge. I quickly knelt down on one knee and lifted my rifle, my finger resting on the trigger.

And here, I came face to face with the creature keeping the woman at the campsite. It's form was hunched, it's face had torn flesh hanging off. Black gums and brown and red teeth shown on it's mouth, where it's upper lip seemed to have been torn off. One eye was covered by a growth. The beasts body was horrendously powerful, despite the flesh, which looked a lot like patchwork limbs. A vestigial limb grew off it's right arm, which ended in a clubbed hand, that looked more like balled fist. It's greenish-yellow skinned legs were wet and mucky from wading in the river, just thirty feet down the road from where it stood.

I lifted the rifle ready to fire. Behind the creature it dragged a small rucksack which was bulging out, and soaked reddish-brown, the color of old blood. All the while the beast was distracted. By the conversation it was having with it's self.

"Mmmff, get goo..."
"Hehaha, goo." It said in a different, more raspy voice.
"We... Put her in..."
"Hehaha, put in."
"Goo..."
"Hehaha, goo."
"Shut up..." It stopped it's sentence as it seen me, finally, aiming down the scope, directly at it's head.
"Smell human." The second voice said dimly.
"Kill. Eat." The first voice said, starting a charge.
"Hehaha, kill." Just as the mutant finished it's sentence, I fired.

The bullet hit it's knee cap, the .308 round blowing it out. By the time the creature collapsed on its face I had thrown the bolt back, chambering another round in the rifle.

It hauled it's gargantuan form up, hollowing in pain and rage.

"KILL!" It shouted repeatedly limping towards my rapidly clenching it's good fist.

"How did a Super Mutant get this far East?" I hollered at the beast.

It stopped screaming. Looked at me. "MUTANT KILL!" It screamed.

"The Master's dead! Been dead for a century! How old are you?!"

The raspy voice came into play here, "FATHER GOO IS MASTER." I rolled my eyes, thinking it's memory had deteriorated. I fired one last time, and the mutant, however old it was, died.

I picked up the bullet casings and pocketed them, deciding to leave the mutant alone, the stench turning me off searching the creature.

I continued my walk east.

"Kristie, listen to me. We're taking him in. Deal with it." Zalgo said, his eye twitching ever so slightly. Shit. Not now.

"C'mon. We've got some cash to burn, don't we?" He said, pushing the button on the PA near the bridge.

"Name and business?" The voice on the other side of the speaker.

"Hark, it's Zalgo and Kristie. We've got caps to burn and I need my... Special fix." Zalgo said, his eye twitching again. Shit, it's coming too quick.

"Fine. Come on in. Just no funny business. I'll see what Dr. Li can do for you." Harkness grumbled. The giant slab of metal that passed as a bridge was twisted to make an acceptable path.

"Here." Zalgo said, handing the unconscious Harry to Kristie. "Don't kill him. Toss him in their brig. Remember, killing him now won't get Brian out of slavery." And with that, he crossed the bridge. He needed his fixing, even if it was at the cost of a life or two.

"Yea yea, I won't kill him.." Yet. So, we're now trying to get Brian out of slavery? It's like he just makes these things up as he goes along. I usually find out about his ideas after they're already decided as an actual plan in his head.. Y'know, he just drops the bomb and we're off. It doesn't bother me most of the time, but this one? I'd to of like to had a say in it. No use complaining right now though, I'll talk with him about it tomorrow, after the fun is over.

Ah, and now he attempts to distract me by flaunting beautiful caps in my face. It's a clever trick.. Get me thinking about blowing caps on 'wants' instead of 'needs'. Some of the things in those categories overlap.. But there would be few needs purchased today.. Goddamn it.. It's working. "Let's hurry up a bit; he's not exactly easy to drag around." I said, as we crossed the bridge into the City.

ooc:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ToKIkw3LIoQ&feature=player_embedded

Watch this. Just... lawl...

ALSO, ZALGO HURRY THE HELL UP.

Agreed.

Zalgo waved her off, his hand twitching majorly just as he was bringing it down. Goddammit, she probably saw that... That'd give him a bit of explaining when everything was over with. "Just do as I ask. Please?" He said before opening the metal door into the 7th deck of the Carrier that was Rivet City. The place smelled of rotten fish and irradiated water. It was just as much his home as Megaton. But that wasn't what he was after.

He headed down the hallway to the hydroponics lab. Rivet City was the main source of unirradiated produce. It was why everyone loved the place. On his way to the lab, he passed Abraham Washington, Sister, and Father Clifford. His lip twitched a bit when he passed Clifford, barely suppressing a chuckle.

When he reached the science lab, he jumped down the stairs, almost knocking a bobblehead from the semi-circle desk. He stops there, seeing Dr. Li talking with an older man and what looked like his son or something. Wait, no, not talking... Arguing, it seemed. He waited about 2 minutes before interrupting.

"Excuse me, sir, but I need to speak with Dr. Li here. She has something I need." Zalgo said, bowing slightly to show his sorryness, his foot twitching a bit. Fuck.

"Don't worry about it, Zalgo. Zimmer here was just leaving." Dr. Li said, turning her back to the men. "Now, just you wait a minute, Li, I need that android back!" The older man shouted. "I said we're done. Leave." the doctor said through gritted teeth. The man named Zimmer snorted, then retreated to the corner of the lab, grumbling about how he wasn't leaving until he found someone he called "A3-21". Crazy old man if you asked him.

"So, I hear you need your fix." She said, holding up a fission battery and a bottle of Buffout, which Zalgo politely grabbed from her hands, downing the pills in the bottle, then removing his eyepatch for a second. His robotic eye twitched around a bit before popping out into Zalgo's hand. He removed the worn out battery and inserted the new one before popping the eye back in, knocking his head a couple times, and lowering the eye patch again.

"Thank you SO much, Doc. Here." Zalgo said, dropping a pouch of 150 caps on the desk next to a carrot. "Oh, and we found this kid named Harry in the Wastes. Says he's from that Vault that hasn't opened up yet, uh... 101?"

"Get him out of my city. He'll muck up our entire operation." She growled, a look of fear on her face.

"You sure? He said somethign about his dad fixing the water in the Wastela-"

"THAT OPERATION DIED TWENTY YEARS AGO." Dr. Li shouted, knocking the sack of caps from the table. Uh oh, struck a nerve there.

"Oh, well... Umm... Sorry. Me'n'Kristie'll get him out when we leave in the morning. He's knocked out at the moment, and Kristie's got him." He said, walking towards the door to the back of the Muddy Rudder. "Meh. Guess it was false hope. See you next time then, eh, Doc?" He said, waving bye before opening the door to the Rudder. He heard Zimmer speak up as he shut the door, telling Dr. Li to "stop playing with her chemistry set and do some REAL science." Definately a crazy old man.

He’s acting like a bloody crack addict. A crack addict, who just got released from rehab and was never fully cured.. Twitching like a cannibal and going starving mad for his ‘fix’. Yea, sure, Zalgo has his ‘What the fuck are you doing..’ moments, but ones this odd aren’t normal. Made me feel.. Out of the loop.. And we’re the only two in it. I felt like whatever he was keeping from me just punched me in the stomach. It happens on rare, very rare occasions that we’ll speak to each other as if we weren’t friends, but just business partners. About four seconds ago would be an example.

“You are seriously heavy.” I mumbled to myself quietly, dropping.. I mean, placing the dipshit I had weighing on me on the ground. I sighed, and leaned against the wall, moving my arms circular to stretch them out and easy the discomfort in my shoulder from carrying him. “And ugly.” I said, like he was actually going to respond to me. I stared at his face for about minute before I decided to spit on him. No one around. I probably have some time.. NO. Don’t do it Kristie. Zalgo will shit his pants.. Probably kick my ass for it. Get angry… Breath. Reward for him, AND THEN he can die.

Zalgo needs to just get back here already.. So I’m distracted from this soon to be corpse lying on the floor. “When he gets back, he’s carrying you. Got that fuck head?” I’m talking to an unconscious body again.. I blame the radiation for my lack of sanity now a day.

Zalgo sat at the bar in the Muddy Rudder, ordered a beer, a bottle of vodka, a bottle of whiskey, and a bottle of absinthe, putting 50 caps on the table. "Keep the change, Belle." He said to the barkeep.

"Kristie comin' in today?" Belle asked, washing a shot glass with a dirty rag.

"She hasn't shown up yet? Heh. I'd've thought she'd come here first." He said, laughing. "Might as well see if she's where I left her." He added, picking up his alcohol and walking out of the Rudder.

He walked throught the door, passing by Sister. He always gave Zalgo the willies. Something about how he carried himself made Zalgo think Sister had a mission here. A bad mission. Something that could break a bit of Rivet City. But that'd have to wait.

He walked through the door into the market. He nodded to Flak and Shrapnel, who tried to wave him over until they saw the alcohol in his hands. "Bringin' Kristie her favorite nectar, eh?" Flak called.

"If I didn't, I'd get the shit beat outta me." Zalgo called to him, laughing a bit. Shrapnel stifled a chuckle. Zalgo could see it in his eyes.

He headed through the door on the other end of the Market before climbing a set of stairs. He pops his head up to the next deck only to be greeted by the still unconscious form of Harry.

"Couldn't've at least brought him where I told you to, couldja, Kristie?" He said, putting the 4 bottles of alcohol on the floor before pulling himself up. "And to think you're my friend." He added, nudging her with his elbow with a smile on his face.

I heard heavy footsteps coming back up the stairs, hopefully belonging to Zalgo. No one usually gives two shits if you’ve got an unconscious body around here, but THIS uncurious body? Yea, I wasn’t in the mood to answer ‘What are you doing with him little miss?’ questions. People spoke to me like every now and then.. ‘Little miss’. 9 times out 10, they’d end up with a ‘Little bullet’ inside their little brains.

Seconds later, there’s Zalgo carrying our rewards, one of them being that unmistakable
Green Devil. “I can carry him, but I’d have dropped him trying to go down even the small set steps to the brig. Was certain you wouldn’t like that..” I paused, looked up and smirked at him before looking back down at the body, “So I figured I’d wait till you got back from.. Wherever.” I didn’t say it like it bothered me, because although it did quite a bit, it hit me just now that if it was something I needed to know, he’d tell me eventually.

“Here’s what I propose..” I quickly passed him, bent down and grabbed the bottles he’d placed on the ground, stood back up and stepped back towards the steps. “I’ll carry these heavy bottles, you toss him in the brig.” I said, a big grin on my face while looking from the bottles to him.

“I’ll meet you downstairs bud.” I spun around, and slowly stepped down the flight of stairs towards the markets.

"Yeah, alright, I'll get him then. Just save me some of each drink, or you get none of my bartending experience." He said, a little laugh escaping his lips. He then turned his attention to Harry. He lifted the boy up and carried him to the upper deck, straight to Vera Weatherly's Mister Handy, "Mr. Buckingham". He handed the robot a sack of 120 caps for the night, heading to the only empty room and dropping Harry off there. He used a coiled rope in the room, probably left over from the last person to stay there, and tied the Vault kid to one of the metal chairs in the room.

"Stay right there, Harry. Don't move a muscle." He said, pondering his words earlier. My dad can fix the water he had said. If it was true, then this kid was way too important to kill. WAY too important.

Zalgo then left the room, closing the door behind him. He went down the two flights of stairs to the lower deck, then through the door to the Market. He scanned the area. looking for Kristie.

I patiently waited outside the doors, and off to the side, for Zalgo to finish with Harry and get down here. I wonder if he’d die tied up in that cell.. Y’know, starvation, dehydration, anything that could get to him between right now and tomorrow morning. Yea, I was ignoring what Zalgo had been shoving down my throat for the past two hours; Harry being important and all.. But I was a shitty listener, what can I say? I may not show it, but I understand the dipshit is useful alive.. Extremely useful, but a bigger part of me just doesn’t give a rat’s ass. Maybe I wouldn’t get the chance to slice the shit’s throat tonight, and maybe I won’t get the chance a week from now.. But when he’s rotting in the dirt, it’ll be because of me. Eventually.. I’ll get him.

My.. Odd mood disappeared with the creek of the door Zalgo appeared from. “Over here bud.” I called to him, leaning my head forward but my body still against the wall behind me. “Your eyesight better be intact, you’re useless to be me blind.” I teased, and handed to him the bottle of Whisky and his bottle of beer. Yes, his, I can’t stand the shit. Well.. Can’t say I really enjoy the taste of any liquor, but the acquired taste is unavoidable. Absinthe and I though.. We’ve grown to be good friends over the years. Even if it’s had me praying to the porcelain god a couple of the morning afters. The things we eat in the Wastelands, and this stuff gets to me? The world is really fucked sometimes.

I took a couple steps away from where we were, into the open dirt path – Well, more like a road by its width – and spun around like a child. “So, should we wander and drink until you look like my Grandmother, the dead one, or do we have a destination in this City? I haven’t been here in such a while I don’t remember if there are any decent places to go to to drink!” Happy? Yes, yes I am.