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Ashur "Aw, come on, Stank, hand over the inhaler," complains Bubbles, tweaked-out former raider with a shock of dirty blond curls and a wispy mustache. He punches his friend Stank -- named such for his impeccable personal hygeine -- in the arm and seizes the inhaler from him, ripping it toward his own mouth and inhaling some sort of narcotic fume. It's just another day in Jack's Town, in the end, with the scum of the earth getting fucked up outside the local dive bar and waiting to die.

The sun burns hot above. The sky's dazzlingly free of clouds this day, and that burning chariot soars relentless; it makes stand stark and ink-dark the shadows of utility poles, adobe huts, and carts, bleaching the world nigh-monochrome with its sterling intensity. There's not even a breeze to cool the skin; everyone not part lizard seeks out shade and liquid refreshment on days like this.

Ashur is one such man. Centurion, Ranger, recruit of the Battalion -- the man has of late begun collecting titles like caps, and he is returning from a trip further west, stopping in this garbage fire settlement for water and rest. The brute, his power armor standing empty next to him at a stool, hunches over the scored bar.
Astaroth Paladino Astaroth Paladinolumbers down the road, his power armor makes lound mechanical noises with each movement. As he passes by the bar he notices the sounds of a landing punch, and a raised voice that peaks his interest. Making his way closer to the bar he spots an empty set of power armor and stops to inspect it before turning his attention to Bubbles and Stank.

"What are you two fighting about, who gets to kill themselves first with that trash you are huffing?" Astaroth does not move to intervene after he speak, only watching silently thereafter, but ready to join if anyone else shall be threatened by their violent, drug fueled behavior.
Tibbie      The young sweating Shantytown gal groans and wrings her tee as she walks in the bar, the short cropped white tee is drenched and her hair's sticking to her neck. She notices Ashur at the bar and takes a look back to the door before joining him, switching her concern to a smile.
"Those fellas outside sure gave me some looks and words, sure hope they gonna be alright out there..Chuck, I need a whiskey, stat!" she says nonchalantly and ruffles her hair off of her neck.
Grover The grey rider moves into the bar, such a bar that it is...sure its a shithole, but then what do you expect in a town nameed Jack..and Jack don't no shit. The figure moves over near and empty table, and looks around before they sit down. "Quiet night" says Grover.
Ashur Ashur's black-and-gold plated hand curls around an old, dirtied glass, filled with water clean enough that the smudges are definitely from the cup. He tilts it back to parched lips and drowns it in an instant, swishing a mouthful through his teeth and soaking the dried crevices of his throat. Slam it back to the counter, slide it over, and a nod to have it refilled to the servitor. Yes, that's what he's doing, the toga-clad brute next to the exotic and ostentatious Hellfire armor: sitting and drinking the only non-alcoholic beverage in the joint.

When Tibbie sits down next to him, Ashur turns, hooks a finger under her chin, and tilts her head up, stealing a kiss. "Hello, Tibbie," he greets, as the refilled glass is handed to him once more. "Why concern yourself with junkies? They're all worthless."

His scorn is, fortunately, not heard by the pair of chem-fiends.. whose pupils have dilated, whose skin has flushed, and whose breathing has grown heavy. Stank shoves at Astaroth. "Piss off, tin can," he says, bold and fierce. "It's none of your business what we do, yeah?"
Astaroth Paladino Astaroth Paladino does not budge a bit as the the junky shoves him, his weight and power armor being far too heavy to move easily. He balls his right hand into a fist and swings a powerful right hook into the jaw of the hazey eyed chem addict. Astaroth's power armor hisses as his arm moves swiftly back to a defensive stance, ready to continue the assault should the addict want more.

"You just made it my business you waste of flesh. You want some more, or will you rats scurry off now? I would suggest the latter if you know what is best for you scum." He then turns his back on the addict. Hunching and struggling through the door he makes his way into the bar.
Tibbie      Her hot face burns even more red as she's kissed by Ashur, though she smiles back to him,
"Hi Ashur!" she chimes and looks back to her drink and to the door, answering him,
"I suppose you're right, but least they got caps that need takin, least that's what my Jefecito would say to somethin like your askin." She returns to his eyes and takes a petite sip of whiskey.
"Water huh? Guess it's the right kind of day for it, hey Chuck, gimmie a water too when I'm done with this yeah?" Tibbie asks and notices the power suit walking in the bar, she gives him a casual welcoming wave and a smile.
Grover Grover looks over at the arrival as well, such clunky protection he thinks. Shaking his head a bit, "I thought they recalled all those old power hogs..and I thought I was down on my luck."
Ashur The man in full power armor, inches thick and helmeted, shows no vulnerabilities; even high as they are, the two junkies know better than to try anything.. just yet. Instead, Stank falls back against a clay brick wall and rubs his battered jaw, staring daggers at the Knight. "Fuckin' armored bastards," he mutters, spitting out a wad of spit and blood and then slinking off with his friend.

Back at the bar, Ashur snorts at Tibbie's mercenary outlook. "To turn the Dissolute's lack of virtue into profit is cruel," he teases her, "but not unwise. Their wealth is wasted on them; they're just going to spend it on drugs, anyway."

Another pull from the water, another swish. That scratch in his throat is finally soothed.
Astaroth Paladino Astaroth Paladino opens up his power armor and steps outside, a bit more vulnerable but far more comfortable as the air hits his flesh, drops of salty sweat hitting the floor. He waves a large hand at Tibbie and nods silently to the others gathered.

"Seems those brahmen stuffers took off anyways, gave em them something to think about if they want to stand around causing trouble here again, but they did not seem very smart. Would not suprise me if they slink back around here." Astaroth then takes an empty seat at the bar and follows suit in ordering a water, draining the glass lustfully as the sweat begins to recede a bit as the cold water cool him off.
Ironface Jones The door opens to admit yet another giant of a man, the mighty Ironface Jones. Striding in like he owns the place, Jones rather casually scans his surroundings to take in the people assembled. The junkies are neatly stepped around, Ironface not seeing a need to bother with them beyond a courteous nod, on the way to the bar. The other people are greeted likewise, the tribal's big head bouncing up and down as he looks from person to person, "Greetings." And then he arrives at his destination and tells the barman, "Beers, please." The power armors and their owners are given another look with his gaze finally settling on Astaroth, "Brother of Steel?"
Tibbie      The woman grabs the hem of her shirt and fluffs it, trying to cool down. Continuing with her conversation,
"If molerats can talk and feel things, then I suppose addicts still sorta can too, probablyâ¦right Jefecito?" she asks and turns to the power armored man,
"Thank ya sir, they was being a lil harrassin to me when I walked on in, otherwise I wouldn't be mindin' thems hangin out, it's a hot day afteralls." She sends smiles to all the new faces she finds now in the bar, the inclusive gal that she is.
Grover Grover leans on his table, "Alrigh, now this place is really starting to get busy...course it does seem a bit like a joke. All we need is for someone to put a ten inch pianist on the bar, and it will be complete."
Ashur You all knew it was going to happen; it was in the scene's description, after all. As Astaroth abandons his power armor for the comfort of fresh air and drink, the two scorned junkies return -- and now their eyes are all wide and black, their fingers twitching. This isn't the sort of high a chem-fiend on the street normally gets; there's none of the opium-like daze of Calmex, or the tingling high of Daddy-O, or even the overly-excited hyperactivity of Jet. No, no. The big eyes. The labored breathing. The erratic movements, bodies moving like animated corpses on puppet strings --

This is Psycho, or Psycho-like symptoms. Someone must be selling bad drugs.

Stank grabs an empty Sarsparilla bottle from a table. Without a single care for who's looking, he comes up behind Astaroth and swings it like a motherfucking baseball bat one-handed for the back of his skull, right where the spine connects.

And Ashur? He's watching it apathetically.. albeit he does lean a little to the side, covering Tibbie behind a shoulder.
Astaroth Paladino Astaroth Paladino doubles over over in pain as a strike from a improvised bar knife made from an empty bottle strikes him in the back. Without missing a beat he shouts "Ad Victoriam!!!", before reaching for his pistol and giving it a heavy swing, landing a vicious blow to Stank's torso, dropping him dead on the floor with a single fearsome blow.

Turning to Tibbie he says almost nonchalantly, "Hello there miss". Astaroth then turns to Ironface Jones and answers his question finally, "Yes I am a Knight of the Brotherhood. Seems this scumbag should of known better, chem addicts are nearly as bad as ghouls....nearly."
Ironface Jones "I do not know what a pianist is," Ironface says to Grover, looking at him curiously until the noise of the door opening gets his attention again. And then there are those guys he passed on the way in, coming back for something. That something being violence, Ironface momentarily looks like he's going to do something about it, leaning away from the bar. He stops himself at the last moment as his drink is served. The other big guy can probably take care of himself, after all.

Grabbing his beer he takes a mighty swig, draining much of the mug in one go and wincing as he watches Astaroth take a bottle to the dome. Without looking away from the brawl, Ironface tells Ashur, "It was good you were there to fight the super mutant. I was..." He searches for the right word, "Distracted by the legionnaires." And then the fight is over and the tribal goes back to his beer, barely eyeing the corpse on the floor. It's not like he hasn't killed people in Jack's town in the past. His attention returns to Paladino once more, "Once I was a Brother of Steel, but it seems that my chapter has gone away while I was gone."
Grover Grover watches the shortest bar fight in the history of bar fights. "Well, that was..less then exciting. I do have to say." then he hears Jones, "Its an old humor." He stretches his hands a bit, rolling his fingers as he does.
Tibbie      Tibbie watches all the fuss going on from behind Ashur's shoulder a gives Astaroth a cheer once it seems to be over, she listens in on the chitchat in the bar but chimes in with her own question,
"Wait now, if that one's gone bonkers... Where's the other chum? I sure hope the other one's alright!" Tibbie takes a deeper swig of her whiskey and coughs from the alcoholic burn and Chuck instinctively gets her that water from earlier.
"Thank ya Chuck!" she says and takes a big gulp, then rests a hand on Ashur's forearm.
Ashur Ashur watches as the muscular man drives the butt of his gun down on the slim, needlemarked chest of the addict; he hears the splintering of bone as something breaks, and a shard of split sternum pierces a lung or a heart. The death is quick, unfortunate, and all too cheap. A life spent over a broken bottle, a bad trip, and some rudeness.

He chuffs, and sips at his water again, easing back upon the stool. The other junkie seems at a crossroad; aggressive from the poison in his veins, but also vaguely aware that this is suicide. He wavers, wobbles, and then just books it in a dead sprint back out the front. "I'm sorry, Stank! I'll tell your ma you fought a deathclaw!"

He's gone if no one gives chase.

When it all settles, and the blood pooling in Stank's mouth begins to spill on the floor, Ashur turns and faces Ironface. "The cast-off remnants of a broken Legion," he sullenly clarifies. "Weak and sad. Once, they were a mighty fist of iron; know they're a single broken knuckle." A shrug of a broad shoulder follows, and he hooks an arm around Tibbie's waist, tugging her up onto his lap. "The mutant was unexpected. I did not expect slaves like that -- it would seem the Horde has offered a new source of meat."
Astaroth Paladino Astaroth Paladino returns to his seat as the adrenaline in his veins wear off. He rubs his head with a wince and turns to the other patrons and says, none of you folks would happen to be a doctor eh? That bottle seems to have done more damage than I first felt."

He then motions to the barkeep and orders another drink. "I am not much of a drinker, but a whiskey does seem to be in order after that mess. I must appologize for the mess I left as well. Perhaps he will feed the molerats now." A slight grin crosses his face at the thought.
Grover Grover shakes his head, "They legion never was much to begin many people telling other people what to do. Very pushy...why I left...if I want to kill someone, its gonna be because I want to kill them..not cause someone else tells me to kill them."
Ironface Jones "At times I have had difficulty fighting the men of Caesar, but I think now you are right," Ironface tells Ashur as he polished off his beer and motions for a fresh one from the bartender. And then he turns back to nod, "I did not think they would use a mutant, but they may grow desperate." Looking back at Paladino Jones shakes his head from side to side, "No." He turns back to Grover and eyes the fellow for a moment, "You were wise to leave, but at one time I think the Legion was a great threat at one time."
Tomas Most times, the wastelands are a very harsh place. Tomas has just been through one of these times: The young soldier is dusty as he enters the bar, his frame fitting confortably in his militia uniform, a sling holding his weapons hung across his chest. He moves into the bar, releasing a weary sigh. His eyes go to the dead body, a frown now marring his beautiful face. He calmly approaches the group at the bar. "Excuse me," He says to a brown-haired woman, his voice being soft and calm. "Could you tell me what happened here?" A finger raises to point at the body.
Astaroth Paladino Astaroth Paladino nurses his beer like the tea-tottler he is, grimacing at the strength of this very weak drink. He sighs as the lack of doctors around but just accepts his fate. Turning to the new arrival he explains the dead body on the floor with a slight grin of pride crossing his large face.

"Few Brahman stuffers were hanging out here causing folks trouble. I introduced one to my fist and took off, then the one fella seemed to have taken some psycho and waited for me to leave my power armor. He hit me with a sneaky blow from behind with bottle, and well....I introduced him to the handle of my pistol. You see how that turned out for the scumbag."
Grover Grover shakes his head, "Actually...the truth is..he fell on a bar of be careful..its still on the floor somewhere.."
Tibbie      The young gal giggles as she's now in Ashur's lap and hangs an arm around his shoulder and keeps the last of her whiskey in the free hand, she now addresses the good-looking man,
"Well chum, this here guy here was doin chems on out the front of the bar, then big guy here in the metal get-up.." Tibbie is interrupted by the metal guy Roth she was pointing towards, so she takes the last of her whiskey and giggles at the blue-haired man's comment, throwing her head back onto Ashur's chest.
Ashur "Discipline is what makes a rabble an army," Ashur tells Grover with a sudden severe flash across his face -- voice a growl, eyes sharpened. But it fades in an instant, and given he's all out of water and has used up his free refills for the day, it's time to mosey along. "And before Caesar fall," and he says it in the hard C fashion the Legionaires did, "it was the greatest army of all. Now it is a ghost."

He's of mixed feelings about that. Still, there's some regret -- the Legion's crimes against him aside, much of his life is tied into it proudly. To realize how far it has fallen makes something ache. His hand rests openly and shamelessly on Tibbie's breast through her shirt, though while he gropes her, his attention is clearly elsewhere; staring off into the distance of memory. He chuffs, and scoots her off, rising to his feet. "Drink your fill, Tibbie, then find me at the town entrance; I'll be waiting for a bit."

He turns, and opens his gold-plated Hellfire armor, the extravagant and rare Enclave suit sealing around him until he's once more a titan of duraframe, white-cloaked and mountainous.

"Salve," he tells the other men, and begins to lumber off.
Ironface Jones The other people all seem to have gone on to discuss the topic of the corpse. It doesn't interest Ironface very much now that all the fighting's over and done with, but he does give the newcomer a nod of greeting, trying to be friendly and all. Beer number two starts making it's way down his throat while people chatter over the deceased. At Ashur's Salve Jones turns to look at him, giving him a nod, "Be well."
Grover Grover says, "You know what would really be interesting right now, if a singing deathclaw popped up behind the bar."
Astaroth Paladino Astaroth Paladino chuckles at Grover, the sound resembling a few rocks clacking against each other. As the low grumble subsides he says in a friendly tone "Careful what you wish for, that is not how I hope to spend my evening."
Tomas Tomas nods at the group. "I see!" He says, understanding flashing across his eyes. "At least things are calmer now." He moves towards the body, a hand reaching down to close the man's eyes, if he still has eyes. "Someone should remove him from here." The young man says calmly.
Tibbie      The woman blushes and bites her bottom lip, then nods to Ashur before he leaves, "Won't be too long Jefecito!" she says and find herself a new stool to sit on, and now finishes her chaser of water before signaling Chuck for a whiskey refill. Her brown eyes look to the men and she can't help but laugh again from the tall blue-haired guy's humor!
"I'd pay to see that one chum!" Tibbie then busts into her drawstring pack and pulls out a hand-sized loaf of bread, she takes a bite from it and nods to the redhead's comment of removing the smelly guy's body,
"Yeah, he's grosser than a week old brahmin pen!" She adds through her chewing, not one for manners but hey, it's hot out!
Grover Grover shrugs, "Not really our problem is it?...whoever own this place, will clean it up prolly when they lock up for the night. But feel free to steal his clothing if you like."
Ironface Jones "It has been some time since I have fought a deathclaw but I have never seen one sing," Ironface confides as he leans forward to check behind the bar, just in case. Beer goes back to being his priority again, though he will spare the corpse another glance and say, "The bartender will usually move the corpses when he has time to do so." Because Ironface intends to keep him busy by fetching beer.
Astaroth Paladino Astaroth Paladino makes his way back to his power armor, making a comment along the way, "Not much goes to waste around here, I am sure folks will have stripped and the critters will make a meal of him in no time at all." He stumbles into the armor with a groan of pain and closes it around him once more.

The safety of Astaroth's power armor raises his spirits once more. He then makes his way to the door stopping a moment to decide which way is best for squeezing out of it.
Tomas "Allright, I'll do it." With a sigh, Tomas lifts the body. He glances at Grover. "Oh don't you worry, I'll make sure his clothes aren't stolen." His forehead creases ever so slightly for a brief moment before it returns to normal. He ajusts the corpse in his arms, the man's forehead pressed against his slinged rifle. He lifts an arm from the corpse to wave to Ironface, giving the man a brief smile. "I'll be right back." He says as he starts to move out with the corpse, intending to give it a proper burial.
Grover Grover watchs a Tomas picks up the body, and starts out with it. "I know some guys have trouble getting dates...but really? Isn't there a bunch of saloon girls in the saloon in El Dorado?" He shrugs a bit, "To each his own I guess."
Tibbie      The gal's sweat seems to be calming down as she take's another swig of whiskey, laughing yet again at Grover's jokes she then spreads her drawstring bag open a bit more to show she's brought more mini-loaves with her, they're wrapped in simple paper but it doesn't take a genius to assume they're loaves.
"Y'all oughta eat up a bit with all this drinkin! Go long metal-man!" Tibbie gets Astaroth's attention and chucks the loave his way, will he clunk around in time to catch it? The brown-haired woman then finally approaches Grover and offers him a loaf, his humor's clearly earned a snack! As for the oldest man, Ironface, she offers him a loaf too and she sits back at the bar with him. She's offes to introduce herself to each of them once they've been offered,
"Name's Tibbie Gaines y'all!" she beams and gets back to her whiskey at the bar.
Ironface Jones Another beer bites the dust and Ironface makes a decision. Rather than get it refilled he says to the bartender, "Water, please." The same mug is used for the clearer liquid which Ironface immediately pours into his mouth. Once that's done and he's licked his lips to clear any moisture off of them Tibbie heads his way and offers him something. Ironface's eyes widen momentarily but he accepts her offering, "Thank you, Tibbie Gaines. I am Ironface Jones of the El Dorado Tribe. Son of Snake Puncher Jones and Spears Badly McCoy of the Sand Lizard Clan."
Astaroth Paladino Astaroth Paladino swings a large armored hand up just in time to catch the flying loaf of bread. He then smashes it into the front of his helmet in jest before actually removing it to take a large bite. He smiles in thanks and tries to speak with crumbs flying every which way.

"Fanks..fer de bread.", he says with a mouthful. He waits to finish chewing before speaking once more. "I am Astaroth Paladino, Knight of the Brotherhood of Steel. It is a pleasure to meet you Tibbie."
Tomas Tomas comes back to the bar a few moments later, his hands now empty. He makes his way towards the bar. "Could you give me some cold water, please?" He asks the bartender politely. "Thank you!" He exclaims as he receives his drink, his eyes flicking to all the present patroms. A friendly wave is given to Tibbie, Grover, Astarot and Ironface."
Astaroth Paladino Astaroth Paladino thinks quietly to himself for a moment while he finishes the last bit of his bread, then replaces his helmet back over his head, latching it down to the rest of his power armor. "So what is there to do now that no one is left to kill?"
Astaroth Paladino Astaroth Paladino lets out another gravely chuckle "I do not think I am the man for such work. You do seem full of jokes tonight, that I must admit. Have you ever considered becoming a comedian?"
Grover Grover of course shows no facial expression since currently he has no face. "Why do you think thats a joke?"
Astaroth Paladino Astaroth Paladino says, "Well I did not imagine myself having the look of a seamstress or tailor really. He makes his way closer to the door before speaking once more. "Think it is about time to call it a night for me. Was nice meeting all you folks."
Ironface Jones Carefully, Ironface unwraps the loaf of bread that was given to him, looking it over and holding it up to his nose to take a sniff. Deciding that things are good he bites into it and chews slowly, considering the flavor. Finally, he nods, seeming to enjoy the snack. Looking to Asteroth the one big guy says to the other, "You should visit El Dorado if you have not yet. It is a fine city with many drinks, things to buy and good whores." And then he starts making his way to his feet, taking another mouthful of bread. He says to Tibbie, "This is good. If I see you again I will bring jerky, but for now I must begin to leave. The people of Picacho and Hondo require aid and I must ride."
Astaroth Paladino Astaroth Paladino heads out the door, the events of the night leaving him drained and injured. "Be safe out there everyone."
Tibbie      She smiles at Tomas and reintroduces herself to him and scoots a loaf his way, his kindness in dealing with mister Stank properly for Chuck has earned it! Tibbie turns to Ironface and nods eagerly
"That's quite the title sir! I bet you got quite some stories bout'chu and yer folks! Thanks for the offer chum!" Taking a last swig of her whiskey she upnods to Astaroth, "Suppose you don't know no Hank Macintyre in the Steelhood?" She asks him and gives a soft sigh, knowing he probably wont know the question to her answer. The young woman finally looks to Grover and just sends him a goofy smile, seems she's getting a buzz, she then looks to the door,"Seems time's got the best of me! I'm coming Jefecito!" she announces to nobody in particular as she also makes her way to leaving the bar and bacn into the terribly hot weather awaiting them outside. Tibbie makes sure to wave happily to Tomas as and Grover as she leaves with Astaroth and Ironface.
Ironface Jones As the others get up and leave Ironface also heads for the door, giving one last friendly looking nod to the people that remain behind. Walking just a touch unsteady after all the beers he makes it to the exit and steps outside, letting the hot desert air into the hole in the wall bar. Once outside he gives Jack's town another look around and mounts his horse, riding off into the day.