ROBCO EVENT LOG V2.66
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Aris Toto, we ain't in El Dorado anymore. North of Rural El Dorado, about half an hour's ride past where the bizarre rolling green hills finally end, lays a stretch of wasteland mostly uninhabited by men. Whether that's due to inability or just good common sense is unclear, but the dark haired woman leading the way on that Paint horse doesn't seem fazed either way. She's told Bart where they were going, but not exactly what they were going to see. "Almost there, guapo," she calls back at him over one shoulder, rainclouds in the distance behind her matching the color of her hair.
Bart Bart is not an outdoorsman, he can hack it when he needs to but he loves his technology. Even know, the man is carrying on a bit extra about the dust, but he'll live. Ditched is the riot armor, on is the alien-hybrd combat armor, much lighterweight, which means he can sling that huge-assed rail rifle over his shoulder and carry Velma along. "I hope so," he pants a little bit, thankfully that nerd stamina is strong and he's not dying by the time they reach their destination. He'd borrowed a horse for the journey, an unfortunate soul who's pelt was worn off in places and looked like he was ready to be put out to pastor.
Aris Up ahead of him, it sounds like Aris chuckles a bit. She knows him well enough to know his thoughts about being this far out in the wastes. "I'll take it as a compliment you've followed me this far," she muses, putting her heels to her horse to get him up the incline they're ascending. Once they crest it, their destination comes into view: a small, poor excuse for a wooden shanty in the middle of nowhere at the top of a hill. Aris leans forward in her saddle a bit, resting against her horse's neck. "Been thinking maybe I'll stick around El Dorado for awhile," she muses, sideglancing at Bart.
Bart Bart tries deperately to hold on as the old bastard decides to jump a tiny divet in the earth where a trickle of water forms. "Bloody!" he cries in a squawk while gripping on for dear life. Swallowing he looks up at the woman ahead of him with a squint of his eyes. "Good, it is," he decides before they reach the crest and pause to look down at the tiny shack. "That is where you wish to live though? It's hardly /in/ El Dorado," he says with a wrinkle of his nose before finally deciding, "It is nice and quiet though," he notes. Looking around to the sounds of nature and little else.
Aris "Sure," the woman nods once, gray eyes settled on that little shanty. "Plenty of land, an' not a soul in sight. Never been a people person," she muses, before glancing at the rail rifle on Bart's back. "'cept Velma, there, she's good folk." Grinning, she urges her horse onward, up the hill and to the shack. The horse gets tied up on an old piece of pipe, looking like the remnants of some poor soul's attempt to get running water set up. "Ain't no Fort Knox," she offers, glancing at Bart.
Bart Bart blinks slowly as he looks around, "Not a soul at all," he says in repeat before smiling some at the look she gives Velma, it makes him happy that they get along alright? He grins a little and urges the old biddy up the hill until they reach the shack. Awkwardly dismounting so that he can put feet on ground with a relieved sigh. "Well no, but most places aren't," he says rather simply and without malice. "But it is very personable, and all yours it seems?" he asks more to clarify.
Aris Aristide shrugs. "Maybe with a little bit of work." She glances back at him, grinning to see his relief at being on two feet again rather than four. "C'mon, Mr. Knox, bring Velma inside just in case there's anyone livin' here already." Her dusty boots walk up the ramshackle stairs leading up into the house before toeing open the door, her hand resting lightly on the revolver at her hip.
Bart Bart lifts both eyebrows when she's reaching for her piece, and Velma comes sliding down his arm to be caught and flipped around in the proper fashion, aimed from his hip at the door. "Well that does put a damper on your claim, now doesn't it?" he says before doing a surprisingly manly-grunt thing. Pushing her out of the way he gives the door a firm kick to swing it in violently, and lowers Velma with a high pitched whine as the capatitors charge up.
Aris The wooden door to the shanty swings inward and BANGS! on the inner wall, startling an entire family at breakfast time. A family of opossums, that is. They look up at Bart and his rail rifle, pink noses wrinkling before they go back to eating some sort of other dead rodent in the center of the room. Aris peeks over Bart's shoulder, and her nose wrinkles, too. "Ocupado," she murmurs to him.
Bart Bart looks about ready to Rambo his way through a hundred ghouls, and when it turns out to just be a family of possums he blinks and headtilts. Aris leaning over his shoulder to mumur makes him chuckle some and his boots stomp across the floor at the rodents. "RAwr!" He screams scarily as a scarecrow might. He waves his hands above his head and stalks towards the eating family until they scatter to the four winds in fear. He looks proud of hismelf.
Aris The rodents scurry as expected, following eachother out of a large, person-sized hole on the eastern side of the shack. Here, it looks like someone had tried to vent a makeshift wood burning stove but either failed miserable or died before they could finish.

Aris comes into the shack behind Bart, squeezing his arm once. "Glad ya didn't blast the fuckers. They were cute, and their guts probably smell like shit." There's still that dead rodent in the middle of the room, though, but Aris bypasses it to check out the hole in the structure. "Maybe patch it up with scrap?" she muses to herself.
Bart Bart looks satisfied still seeing as he was the bigger scarier thing for once. Re-slinging Velma, he starts to wander around the tiny shack, inspecting the edges and windows, the holes in the boards and the general construction. "We can make improvements. I believe we passed a few abandoned cars along the way, we can cut out a few patches from that, at least start sealing in your new home to avoid further radiation leaks or dust storms inside."
Aris Aris's fingers slide along the makeshift stove, wiping years' worth of desert dust away. But then her ears perk up at something Bart says. "'We', hm?" she muses from across the room, watching the scientist by the streams of sunlight that filter through the door and cracks in the walls. "Ain't planning on putting you through that, just wanted to show you where I'll be, bueno?"
Bart Bart watches as she pokes at things as well, always wary of old technology and what it might do at the last minute. He's pulling the shutters on the windows open to let in more natural light and promptly hacking and coughing through the dust he stirs up. When he can breathe again he nods quickly. "We. You don't expect I'll simply leave the construction of your safe-haven to just you, do you?" he asks curiously with a tilt of his head as he just yanks a loose board away with a surprising amount of strength. Nerds man. "You're not putting me through anything when I'm deciding what to do with my time, and I'll thank you not to assume, madame." he scoffs alittle testily even as he moves along to the next thing to poke and prod and ponder.
Aris Gray eyes watch him as she listens, lips curving up at his words. "Ay, lo siento, guapo," Aris grins, not looking as sorry as her words would suggest. She comes to him, taking that loose board from him and setting it against the wall. "Been keepin' myself alive a long damn time. Feels odd sharing the work," she muses softly.
Bart Bart nods once at the apology, as insincere as it might have been. While he isn't fluent in her language yet, he's learning. "Yes. Well. We make adjustments and we adapt, and we move on yes?" he smiles almost sweetly for her as she takes the board and he goes to the bed with a frown. "This is entirely unuseable," he gestures at the thing falling apart.
Aris No doubt, Aris has been using little opportunities that come up to share her language with Bart. Lo siento. Que carajo. Llevame arriba al laboratorio... all the important things. "Si," she answers, watching him frown at that decrepit bed in the corner. "I got a cot back at the brothel, it'll do." She turns to glance around the one-room setup as a whole. "It'll all do, I think."
Bart Bart learns quickly so it doesn't take a lot of doing, just don't expect him to pronounce anything but with that Mid-Atlantic accent, which simply doesn't roll R's. Making a face there he shakes his head, "I will send someone with proper furniture. If you don't get a good night's rest how are you of any use to anyone in the morning?" he asks because he's a practical fucker. "But yes. For an abode to call home, this is sufficient to start."
Aris The dark haired woman laughs that lilting laugh Bart usually elicits, nudging his shoulder gently from behind. "Look around, hermoso! Ain't room for proper furniture here, and ain't anyone who's gonna wanna haul it all the way out here anyway." Chewing her lower lip softly, she finally points to one corner, near the stove. "Mayyybe a little table there, so I don't have to eat on the floor with the zarigüeyas." She grins up at him.
Bart Bart is nudged and huffs a little bit, turning to look around with those critical eyes towards the corner and then the other places. "It is large enough to do some things with. You will just have to trust me," he assures before moving to drop his backpack on a clean space of floor, Velma carefully leaned up against the wall as he digs into his pack for that canteen. Taking a few healthy gulps before he offers it up. "Table, bed, desk or workbench, whatever your preference, we can make them all work."
Aris Aris comes closer, reaching for that canteen with a look he'll recognize as gratitude. She takes a small drink and hands it back, but not before grinning at that word again. "Nosotros," she offers, pointing a finger from him to her. "We." She looks less amused and more content with the word. But still, even as her arms go to wrap around his neck, she offers a tentative and ironic, "We'll see."