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Ironface Jones The market is, as usual, packed with people buying, selling, talking, eating and exploring. It's a loud, raucous place but that doesn't mean that it's not also a lot of fun for the right sort of person. Apparently, Ironface is one of those people.

He's tying off his horse at a hitching post, patting it on the side of the neck and instructing it, "Do not get stolen, First Horse Jones. Stomp the face of a horse thief and you shall be known as Brainstomper Jones." After taking care of that necessity it's on to shopping itself. The big man has a bunch of random trade goods in a sack he pulls off of his saddle, ready to wheel and deal for who knows what.
Elsie Just as there are deals going on in the market of all sorts of goods and wares, so too, in the darker corners, can one find other dealings going on. Other things being traded. The flesh market, for one. The chem market, for another. Surelda is taking advantage of the latter, speaking quietly with a rat-faced young man in dirty clothes behind a row of stalls. Some caps are exchanged, and other items besides. Both disappear quickly; the caps with the rat, and the goods into Surelda's grey cowl-necked poncho-cloak, which she wears over her blue dress. Today, her silver hair has been pulled back in a braid and up into a bun. She looks much the same as she did at the bar, the other night, save for a bandage on her pale leg.

She turns to step back into the respectable crowds, moving as she does so around the posting hitch where First Horse Jones is currently residing. "Hello, pony," the city-girl coos kindly, reaching up to pet the beast if she can.
Ironface Jones First Horse Jones is a well behaved beast. The noble animal allows pets and responds with a soft neigh, acting friendly as he receives affection. Catching the noise of his horse out of the corner of his ear, so to speak, Ironface turns to see what caused it. When he spots Surelda he lifts his bag in a wave of greeting and speaks to her, "Good day. That is First Horse Jones." His eyes scan her briefly, picking up on the bandage around her leg and his neutral expression threatens to turn into a frown, "You have been injured. Have you been in combat?"
Elsie Surelda turns at the voice, one hand still resting on the horse's mane. "Oh, hello..." she says, smiling somewhat awkwardly. So, wait, is she really just supposed to call him Ironface right now? That seems odd, and strange besides. She considers. "...Mister Jones." Nailed it!

The question of her injury has Surelda pointing her toe inward and lifting her heel to display the side of her leg, allowing her to look down at it when it's referenced. "Oh, this? Um ... not exactly, no. There was a little ...." she considers the best way to explain. "Molerat infestation incident. Sort of." She smiles again in an attempt to be disarming and to change the subject. "Are you settling in back home well?"
Ironface Jones The strange city folk lady calls him 'mister' and Ironface's big brow furrows for a moment in consideration, but he doesn't comment on it. Just a good long thought about it, his brain clearly processing the title being applied to him. As Surelda lifts her leg to show him the wound better Ironface stares intently. Having seen a number of wounds himself he doesn't seem shy about the way he looks it over. "Molerats can be dangerous if you are unprepared, but they can be good to eat." And then he stops looking at her gam and returns his gaze to Sully's face, "Yes. I went out to help the people of Hondo. We slew many feral ghouls."
Elsie Surelda lets the hem of her skirt fall back into place and puts both feet back on the ground, sturdy as it may be for her on any given day. She turns her big black eyes back to the horse again, seeming to take some strange pleasure in staring into its eye. It's an interesting thing to look at, a horse eye!

"That's very good of you to have done that. I've only seen a Feral ghoul once, maybe twice in my life." She's never sure. Being an addict is like that. "Seemed strange, as I remember. They looked like ghouls, more or less. They should've been walking and talking like normal ghouls. It was weird." She shrugs, letting her hand fall from the horse so she can turn back to look at Ironface once more.

"So are you back with the Brotherhood now, then?"
Ironface Jones The big horse is quite calm as it gets stared at and petted. It is an exceptional animal, after all. It's owner, exceptional in his own way, carries on his conversation amidst the din of haggling. "I enjoy helping people and I am very good at violence," He explains with a shrug of his shoulders. "Feral ghouls are not very dangerous to me except in large packs. I do not understand why some ghouls are people and others are not, it is..." Give him a moment to get his thoughts together, "Troubling."
Elsie "Spoze it's the difference between people being people and people being ghouls. Or mutants, or anything else. By rights we all probably should be mutants, and maybe we are in some form or another. I mean which of us is really smart enough to say how we're different from the folks who lived before the war?" Surelda shurgs her shoulders, and then grins. It's a playful, almost mischevious look.

"Listen to me, talkin' like I know a thing about anything in the world. I barely know how to operate the radio, and I'm working on that for twelve hours a day." She chuckles, shaking her head.

Those big, black eyes flit quickly again to the bags that Ironface carries. "Watcha got? Buyin' some new stuff to freshen up the house?"
Ironface Jones "I suppose that you are correct. I think we are probably tougher than the people before the war like how I am tougher than city people. Harder living leads to harder folks," Ironface says after some consideration. Apparently he doesn't get how mutants come about or something. But that's okay, because he seems to like talking.

"Many things are a mystery and guessing is as good as you can get without better science to aid you," he explains in response to Sully's comment about knowing stuff. But then he lifts up his bag of goodies and pulls it open to show off the stuff inside. There's no real treasure, mostly wasteland junk. A toaster that looks like it'd work if there was somewhere to plug it into, an alarm clock and a bunch of coffee mugs are among the crap he's collected.
Elsie "Well, there's science-y type folks who could likely tell you better than I could. Doubt they could tell me a thing, though. I'm not the smartest ... well, just not the smartest, I guess." She's barely literate, but that's neither here nor there. When Ironface opens up his bag, the silver-haired girl leans forward to peek inside with open curiosity.

"Oh, been out scavenging? Not a bad way to make a living; there used to be a guy who'd buy damn near anything you'd bring him. Especially porn." Surelda wrinkles her nose in distaste. "Ain't seen him around lately much, though. Sorry to say. Don't like the guy, but he buys anything." She shrugs again, stepping back flat-footed once more. She considers the large man before her.

"Maybe you're tougher than the folks before the war. Me? Folks like me? I doubt it. If there was another war like that one just now, folks like me'd be the first to go. Suppose that's the danger of the war that's comin,"
Nemo Walking through the market, Nemo's wearing his strange ass jeans. No really, the jeans with the strange ass, there's a zipper on them. Tight Levis, a mexican poncho and a cowboy hat. Wandering around a stall of electronic junk, Nemo spots a familiar horse, as he turns to move closer, familiar faces. "Oi! Iron Face! Silver!" He cups his hands around his mouth, calling out before approaching them both.
Ironface Jones "You do not seem to be less smart than most people, Sully. I do not know much about science people, though, they may be much smarter than us," Ironface tells Surelda rather seriously as the two chat. They're over by a hitching post, standing next to First Horse Jones, as they discuss whatever it is they're discussing.

"I find many things when scavenging. It is not my primary thing that I do, that is hunting and fighting, but as you said it is a good way to earn a living." When told of the porn man Ironface looks as Surelda consideringly and nods his head, "He would be useful. I prefer carrying caps to all of these things."

And then his big shoulders shrug, "Folks like you must have survived. I think our ancestors probably were people like the city folk who were lucky and could learn to live off the land."

Nemo's call gets Ironface's attention right away. The tribal turns to look at the person calling his name and raises the bag of trade goods he's carrying in a wave, "Greetings. It was good to fight alongside you." He explains to Sully quickly, "We fought against the ferals together. He is a skilled shooter."
Elsie "I'm good at faking it, I guess. I didn't talk to people much anyway the first while I was here. I was injured, and then I was Ashur's, but now I guess I have to talk to people. So we'll see if you still think I'm no dumber'n anybody else." Surelda grins then, amused by the self deprecation.

"Because when the world ends again, or at least our little part of it here ... well, somethin' tells me I'll be working for folks like you if I live at all." She turns then to Nemo, blinking in surprise at the man's shout and then smiling slightly. "So you're alive then, fancy that. Didn' know you were such a good shot," she says, looking between Ironface and Nemo, as they do seem to know each other. Then she looks back to the latter. "I'm goin' by Sully now. Mr. Ward started calling me Sully and I liked it. I'm still on the radio as Silver, but Sully's better than Surelda, doncah think?"
Nemo Nemo tips his hat to Ironface face, then Surelda, "Howdy, Iron. And yeah, fighting alongside you was a blast." There's a bright smile, which widens when he looks to Surelda, "Honestly? As many times as I've whispered 'Surelda' to the night air, Sully sounds kinda strange ta me." He shrugs lightly, "But if that's what you prefer, ma'am, of course. How've you been? I was lookin' for you to sell some of these," and he pulls a handful of capped syringes out of his poncho's pocket, "And I heard word that uh... I mean..." He glances to Ironface, then back to Surelda, opting on the side of discretion, "I hope you've been well, Sully. I still listen to your reports."
Ironface Jones "Yes. I shall see," Ironface replies seriously to Surelda's remarks about being dumb. Either he didn't get the joke or he's chosen to ignore it. "You are your own person now, which is good. And you talk okay, which is also good."

"Do you think the world will end again? I do not think so. From what I see El Dorado is prospering despite the threats to it. Many very dangerous people have settled here and are trying to make it stay safe," the big guy speaks thoughtfully, eyes unfocusing for a moment in consideration. But that doesn't last too long, there's conversation to get back to.

Looking over at what Nemo pulls from his pocket Ironface quickly loses interest, drugs clearly not being his thing. "Is there something private you two need to talk about without me?"
Elsie Nemo gets a playful little look of rebuke when he jokes about whispering her name. But the look turns to one of confusion and slight concern at his following words. "Heard...?" she begins to ask, but then he's got syringes in his hand.

Surelda moves quickly toward Nemo, putting her hands over his and moving to try to block the view of what he carries with her small body. Don't want others to see! Chems are illicit things, after all. "No no, s'alright," she assures Ironface with a smile that attempts to be disarming. She looks back to Nemo. "You can't just go pullin' stuff like this in public!"
Nemo "What?" Nemo looks suddenly confused, then laughs lightly, glancing around, making no move to stop Surelda, stuffing his syringes away, "This batch of L-Triptophenaketamine Delta-9? Why Miss Sully, I am a Doctor..." He shakes his head in disapproval, before winking over to Ironface, "And you're right about the world not ending again. I've been here fifteen years, and nothing stops the Samaritans of El Dorado." He looks back to Surelda, grinning faintly, green-eyes bloodshot but mirthful, "We get what we want."
Ironface Jones With a quizzical look on his iron face, Ironface watches Surelda as she moves to try to prevent people from seeing what Nemo's got. It's not like he was hiding them. Shrugging his shoulders, the big ol' tribal settles back on the heels of his feet and redistributes his body weight. "I did not know that you were a doctor. You are a very useful person, then. I am often getting hurt and I like it more when doctors heal me than when I must just rest to recuperate."
Elsie "I dunno that you want his kind of doctorin, Mister Jones," Surelda says, finally stepping back once Nemo's hidden the chems away again. She gives him another one of those playful scowls when he winks at her, then looks back to Ironface so that she's speaking to both of them.

"If any of us had the sense of a gecko, we'd not be in a big city like this, attractin' all this attention. 'Tween the mutants and the Enclave and everything else, well..." she looks around, as if about to empart some great secret. Then she leans forward, dropping her voice, to do just that.

"You fellahs really ought to think about gettin' somewhere else, sometimes. El Dorado's gonna melt. I know it sounds weird but ... it will." She must be high again.
Nemo Now it's Nemo's turn to look high. "Click." He says, looking at Surelda, words faint and low, "Gecko, melt... melt. Hondo." He looks to Ironface, squinting, "Glowing Ferals, leg. Leg. That leg." He looks back to Surelda, "Nanites." He shakes his head abruptly, "Do what now?"

He frowns, telling Ironface, "I'm a damn good doctor with a bad reputation, don't let Sully fool you." He dusts off his poncho casually, "But I also make medicine. Controversial medicine, so..." He shrugs. Now it's Surelda's turn, his tone turning stern and concerned, "I think you and me should talk about El Dorado 'melting' at our Facility."
Ironface Jones "This city is where people often need help the most. The folk of Shanty Town especially," Ironface explains. He looks around and then gestures towards some panhandlers, "It is best for the tribe that we all make each other as strong as possible. When I was last here I would bring my extra meat to share with people who have trouble getting their own so that they will be stronger to face any threats ahead."

The big guy's eyes squint at the notion of the city melting and his head shakes, "Cities do not melt..." And then Nemo's spouting some weird crap, too. Ironface has to give him a look for a second, but then the guy comes back to himself and Ironface can communicate normally again, "I do not know of your reputation. I have no need of chems other than to fill my stimpak, but I think that normal doctoring is good enough no matter who it comes from."
Elsie "What about my leg?" Surelda asks, looking back down at the fresh bandage around her calf. Then she looks back to Nemo, shaking her head. "We ain't got a facility," she tells him, wrinkling her mouth slightly. "Suppose I don't sound no better than he does, sometimes," she admits, reaching over to give Nemo a reaffirming, attaboy pat on the shoulder. She rotates, then, leaning on Nemo to look at Ironface. His words make her smile.

"Cities can melt," she corrects him knowingly. "And it's a shame too, if it's got nice folks like you in it. You really ought to spend more of your time outside it, ya know. Just in case."
Nemo Nemo snaps, shaking his head, "I am no chemmed up fool, Sully. You said Gecko, which reminded me that we still have an intact and possibly functional G.E.C.K. STILL in Vault 30, and then you said melt, which can only mean massive amounts of radiation, which reminded me of the horde of ferals and glowing one we encountered in Hondo, their dehydration which suggests to me rising radiation rates, then I remembered, the leg!" He points down at Sully's leg, "Those damned Hondo ghouls were eating each other, slowly, or as I believe, letting the Feral nibble on them to satiate them for the time until /we/ could get down there. Which implies direct communication between the ferals, the glowing ones, and the non-feral ghouls, which of course reminded me of the inter-communication between the Super Mutants and the Mutant King, and I'm starting to suspect there may be a pattern. YET, I cannot discount the possibility of the Dunwich nanites interacting with each and everyone one of us, throwing too many variables into the mix for me to currently calculate so I must abstain from postulation while under the effects of the nanites and continue along the prescribed path of eliminating them first, and narrowing down the possibilities dramatically, creating a pool of theories I can work with."

To Surelda, he asks, "Now what exactly do you -mean- melt? Where is your information coming, your source, your evidence? If we're truly in danger, I can launch a campaign to evacuate."
Ironface Jones "I do spend much of my time outside. There is no hunting in the city and I must provide for myself and others," Ironface explains with a deep nod of his head. Then he looks around at the various people selling things and nods again, hefting his bag. "I must get to my trading, though I am enjoying this conversation I have a hunt later today and I must take care of things."

And then Ironface finds himself staring quietly at Nemo as words explode out of the smaller man. Once he's done talking Ironface nods very reasonably and says, "That sounds very wise." Because he's going to say something to all of that.
Elsie Surelda just stares at Nemo. Just ... stares. Big black wide eyes and everything. The only motion is the flutter of her lashes as she blinks, owlishly, during the man's escapade. And then he's asking her questions, but her barely-literate brain is scrambling to keep up with everything else the man just said. "Uhm ... I forget," she finally admits, sparing a concerned look to Ironface Jones. Did he understand all that? Beause she sure as shit didn't. She's entirely overwelmed by it.
Nemo Nemo purses his lips, considers his audience, then bobs his head, "I'm gonna help." That's enough, he looks to Ironface and attempts to clap the man on the shoulder, "Good fightin' with you. If you need healing, the SoED is there to help, and if we encounter threats, I'll be sure to look you up, partner." Now for Surelda, "We... should definitely talk. Especially after what I heard. Plus, I think you just might be able to help me."
Elsie "What you heard?" Surelda blinks at Nemo, pausing to glance over her shoulder at Ironface. She gives him a little smile. "We'll let you be on your way, Mister Jones. Was nice seeing you, and your horse too." The silver-haired woman gives the beast another little affectionate pat before turning her attention back to Nemo. She bites gently, thoughtfully, on her lower lip. "You can walk me back to the Lonestar camp, maybe. If you want."
Nemo Nemo gives Ironface a tip of his hat as he watches the man and horse leave, before he looks back to Surelda, "I'd like that a lot, Miss Sully. I would." He turns for the scrapmetal archway someone built for the entrance to the shantytown markets, and holds his elbow out for Surelda, "Have you met all the Scientists of El Dorado, ma'am?" He asks.
Elsie "You a scientist now?" Surelda asks with a bit of an amused grin. She eyes the elbow for a moment but then, slowly, slides her own arm in with it. Well, perhaps she was eyeing that elbow. Perhaps she was eyeing those syringes that were so deftly tucked away into a pocket, earlier. As though she could see them through the pocket, or smell it nearby.

"I met one or two. Had a few try to help learn me on the radios, but like I was telling Mister Jones, I'm not that kind of smart." Or any kind of smart, but that's what comes of frying your brain on chems since the age of nine, right? She ducks under the archway as the pair head back north toward El Dorado proper.
Nemo "I have training in several different backgrounds, Miss Sully, and a Doctor is a form of Scientist. If we had Pre-war schools, you would know this." He smirks a little, but doesn't rub it in too hard. Turning back towards the main street of El Dorado, Nemo is mostly quiet, until they reach a stretch of road with no one in earshot. "Miss Sully, how much Calmex would you say you take a day? And how much do you weigh, if I might be so bold in asking?" His green eyes are searching fer face, her form, curiously, but not the way most men might. He's sizing her up like a tailor or something, brow knitted in deep thought.
Elsie When they draw up in the quiet street, Surelda pauses and blinks owlishly, twice, at the man and his questions. "I dunno," she blurts, honestly. "I mean, I dunno how much I weigh, I've never checked." Because really, who cares in this world? "An I don't take Calmex every day," she tells him, wrinkling her mouth to one side.

She pauses, digging in her pockets for a moment before she withdraws a pill bottle that rattles. She opens it and slides out two, which she pops into her mouth and swallows dry. She offers the bottle over to Nemo. He partakes, after all. That she knows. "Mostly daytripper an' Jet," she explains. "Once, twice a day usually. S'just to take the edge off, though. The calmex is a treat. Why, you sellin'?"
Elsie And Surelda? Surelda finds it hilarious. Surelda laughs, stepping back and putting up her hands to make sure that Nemo can't get into her pockets. "Cool your jets," she says with a little laugh. "Get it? Yeah, I've got some. Jet for Calmex, alright? C'mon." she turns and takes Nemo's hand to walk him down an alley, and down another, and down another, twisting into the depths of Shantytown, to those dark corners where no one knows or cares what a person puts into their arms.