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Franky It's been some time since the meet and greet outside of the lounge in Jack's Town. There Babrah or Sandal guy gave the 411 on two locations used by the Raiders around Jtown. Both locations are planly marked and easy to get to, but what they are and what you'll find is anyones guess.

    Strich Farm or AtomVu Theater? Nows the time to shake the tree's and see what the gangs is getting into. Beg, steal or borrow. Grease palms or broken legs.

    Franky had made it to the predetermined meeting spot. He checked his newly gifted Pipboy to dial through the settings.
Aris Leaning up against a scrubby old cottonwood tree where the trio had agreed to meet, Aristide tries to avoid the hot desert sun but is unsuccessful. It filters through tree leaves above her head, shining bright on her black Stetson and denim jacket. "Hola," she drawls lazily at Franky as he strolls up, tilting her head back to gaze at him from under the brim of her hat. "How's she treatin' ya?" She gestures towards that Pip-Boy.
Yah Yah is the last to show, his hat clutched loosely in the palm of his left hand, a half-smoked cigarette in his right. He moves languidly beneath the weight of his layered garments, one snakeskin boot in front of the other. Approaching the other two parts of the trio, he nods, flashing both a brief grin. "S'pose it's time to get down to business."
Franky "There avatar is a dude...." Franky mentions, clicking the unit off and looking up to Aris with a smile. He straightens up and looks around for Yah, turning as he hears the approacing boot falls. "Hm?" He looks between Aris and Yah and gives them both a nod, "Let's do the damn thing then."
Franky There's a number of places in Jack's town worth paying a visit too. The obvious one being the local watering hole, but Babrah hangs out there and it might not be worth the trouble?

    Yah notices that a lot of people also hang out at the fighting pits. Franky seems convinced that the they can get intel by standing outside the front gate and berating mercs entering the town. Aris notices that there's a hole in the wall mechanics shop that also doubles as a horse stable worth venturing a talking to.
Aris "Sure, there's Pip Boy. But -that- particular unit is a 'she', I decided. Called her Dolores and everythin'," Aris chuckles at Franky. But then Yah approaches, and gray eyes shift to track him until he's within speaking distance. "'Bout damn time," she muses at him, half-grinning. Her eyes shift to that half-spent cigarette, her fingers twitching once against her leg. "Got an idea of where to start, if y'all are receptive," she offers, glancing between the wayward sky pirates.
Yah Yah finishes the cigarette, dropping it to the ground and stubbing it out with the toe of one boot. He shoots Aris another small grin, one hand rustling about in his robes to find a nearly empty pack of cigarettes. He tosses the remains toward her, before nodding to Franky. "Me too, the fighting pits, figure they attract all kinds of colorful sorts and I can stab the information outta somebody." He eyes Franky askance for a moment, shaking his head. "Gathering intel. Since when do we do that?"
Franky There's a glimmer there in his eye, that stupid grin of Franky's. He listens as Aris mentions having a location eye's watching the pack of cigarette fly through the air. "Dolores...." His face grows serious and he checks out for a moment eyeballing space. He lets his eyes shift upward as Yah speaks. "Since we don't have a squad of muties anymore..." He trails off as he starts to dig in his chest rig and withdraws a large piece of paper. He carefully unfolds it and shows them whats written. 'Tell me about the Raiders. Bitch.' Clear as crayon this time. "I made a sign." A reassuring thumbs up is given.
Aris The disappointed look on Aristide's face when that cigarette butt drops to the ground is quickly remedied when Yahweh tosses her that pack. She beams at him, wordlessly lighting up. Well, until... "Fightin' pits are risky. Fuckers may have ties to those raiders; someone overhears us asking around, they may go tip them off before we known anything about them." Franky garners her attention as he unfolds that paper. "Maldito sea, crayon man! You'll get us shot." Coming over to him, she quickly confiscates the paper, folding it up and slipping it into her back pocket. "Did y'all see that mechanic's shop on the way in? Thought we could start there. Got a good feelin', and I'm lucky as fuck when it comes to good feelin's."
Yah Yah nods emphatically to Franky's sign, returning the thumbs-up with one leather-clad digit. "I like it. Straightforward. Though I don't recall much intelligence before the muties either." A frown etches his features at Aristide's words, before he shakes his head, "If you say so. I still think stabbing somebody's probably the best way for us to do this, but we can go with your gut." He makes a little face at Franky then, "Afterward we can go try the sign just for fun."
Franky There's a frown as Aris takes away his sign and pockets it. He folds his arms across his chest, idly listens to her talk about this mechanic shop. "Hmm. mechanic you say?" Frank rubs his chin shifting his eyes over to Yah, "Well we can always stab the mechanics car..make him talk." He shrugs, "Alright mechanics it is."
Franky So the plan was put into motion, the group of raider hunters where going to dip into Jack's Town again to find intel on their raid locations. The Mechanics shop seemed like the only lead to visit and ask some questions.

    On the exterior the shop was mostly wrecked vehicles, a large garage resembled a barn more than anything. Stairs on one side lead up to a door, where blownout windows running the length revealed a network of catwalks above the workshop. The rumor was that horses were kept here, but the stables looked bombed out and in general disrepair, maybe the enclave was to blame for that. No guards were in sight, just a lonely stranger in a gray mechanics suit stood by the bay doors smoking a cigar.

    Franky was off somewhere playing with a bettle he found.
Aris The dark haired woman had had a good feeling about this oddly-housed mechanic's shop. A good feeling was as good as any other lead, right? "Let's see where keeping the conversation civil gets us, bueno?" Aristide muses to Yah as they approach the building, readjusting her Stetson to shield her gray eyes from the setting sun. The hand that isn't resting on her Lucky revolver at her hip goes to slip into her back pocket. Finding it empty, her freckled nose wrinkles.
Yah "I still think that stabbing somebody is probably our best bet to get them to tell us about the raiders' hangout." Yahweh muses aloud as he moves toward the mechanic shop in general, the (presumable) mechanic himself in particular. His hands shuffle about in his robes and he produces a near-empty pack of smokes to hand off to the woman. "Sure, you doing the talking?"
Aris Aris's grin is almost abashed as she takes that pack, perhaps disconcerted that her tells are so obvious. Or at least, so obvious to Yah. "Sure, stabbing'll get ya information. But it'll also get ya a lot of attention, which, if you haven't noticed, is probably a bad idea here." Slipping that near-empty pack into the back pocket of her jeans, she approaches the stranger smoking the cigar outside the barn. "Got a light, mister?" she calls across the short distance between them. She smiles unbidden, a rare thing.
Yah Yah wrinkles his nose, blowing out a huff as he watches the woman advance with the last of his cigarettes. One hand sweeps upward to pull the wide-brimmed hat from his head as he steps up after the small woman, grinning wolfishly over her shoulder at the mechanic. "Howdy." he says in a rough growl.
Franky A light? The mechanic peers up at the woman puffing like a train on his cigar. "Nuttin for free 'ere, lady." A teasing grin is given, lacing his fingers across his chest as he sinks farther back into his chair. "Ya lookin for repairs?" The Mechanic asks, shifting his gaze between the two. "Or ya broke down sumwheres?" The nametag on his chest says 'Dan', but no telling if that's the case.

    "Who is it, Dan?" Comes a deep voice from inside the shop.

    Franks has suddenly remembered that he was supposed to be doing a thing for a guy. He ends his converstion with the beetle and strolls off te meet up with Aris and Yah.
Aris Don't worry about all these shady fuckers suddenly showing up on your doorstep, Dan. Aris tilts her face towards Franky briefly as he approaches from a distance, but her attention is soon directed back to Dan. "Neither, actually," she muses as friendly as she can, slipping that cigarette into her back pocket for now. You know, the one with the lighter in it. "Just passin' through, but was wonderin' if anyone in town knew about this place here." She steps aside and motions to Yah's Pip-Boy, if he's willing to show that map. Her eyes meet his in a particular way, as if to say, 'Please don't stab this guy.'
Yah On cue, Yahweh steps forward, flashing Aris the same toothy grin in passing, then his left arm comes up as he punches a few buttons and whirls a few knobs on the arm-puter. "Here we are, Dan. AtomVu Theater is here." He jabs at a few points on a map, "And we need to know everything that you know about it, 'kay?"
Franky Dan takes the cigar from his mouth a mumble under his breath after the voice calls out from inside. He leans forward in his chair, letting his elbows rest on his knees. He looks from Aris then to Yah then to his pipboy, squinting as he takes in the map on the screen. Dan is silent for a moment before leaning back. "It's a raider hideout, any idjit knows that." A grin, He leans back in his chair. "Just some do gooder types!" He calls over his shoulder. "Like I said before, nuttin for free here."
Franky Franky makes his way in to stand behind Yah and Aris. "My source was a deadend, whats up with this fool?" Franky muses, eyes shifting from Aris to Yah..well the back of thier heads anyway.
Aris Just as Dan is calling 'do gooder types' (which, let's be honest, elicits a wry grin from the woman) to whoever's in the barn, Aristide is digging caps out of her leather bag. "Ain't nothing for free anywhere, cabron," she corrects him with an eyeroll, but otherwise looks ready to pay the man something for some information. She glances over her shoulder to Franky, briefly. "Seems that's a raider hide out we're headin' towards," she explains to Franky, as if they didn't already know that. Gray eyes slide to Yah, warily waiting for his reaction to Dan's evasive grin.
Yah Yah lowers his arm, taking a step back with a faint frown tracing his mouth and brow. "See what you can buy out of him." He says, before grunting and giving his head a short shake. Deftly, a hand slips into Aristide's back pocket and he retrieves his cigarette pack from within, lighting one afterward even as he retreats a handful of steps to join Franky. He takes a long drag off the cigarette and then takes another step toward Franky, almost touching the man as he passes the cigarette to him.
Franky Dan stares at Aris as she starts her fumbling for Caps. His grin widens, who wouldn't be happy getting paid to sit around. He leans forward again, expecting some caps, and also remembering he has a cigar. He looks at it before plopping it into his mouth and giving it another puff. "How did your pockets go, Girl?"
Aris "Quien murio y te hizo rey?" Aris mumbles under her breath as Yah gives her that instruction, but she executes it anyhow, caps clicking together as they pour out of her bag and into her hand. She doesn't even so much as flinch when Yah reclaims his pack of smokes, too busy holding what looks to be about a hundred caps out to the post-apocalyptic Smoking Man. "What we walking into out there?" she asks him straightforward, chin tilting to glance briefly back at Yah and Franky. The fuck were they doing back there?
Franky Franky is there mouth breathing watching palms get greased. A flick of his blue eyes to Yahweh as he comes closer. He takes the cigarette, and takes a nice long drag. Exhaling the plume skyward before givng it back. He adjusts himself, then slowly begins to wonder off without so much of a word. Attempting to get around and behind the workshop would be anyones guess.
Yah Yah turns his head slightly as he continues to puff gently on the cigarette, his good eye following Franky as he quietly slips off. Nodding once, then twice to himself, he continues to stand with his back to Aris and the mechanic sitting in the chair for another moment. Another drag, a soft sigh, and he's turning back on his heel to pace the short distance between himself and the pair.
Franky Is that a lick of the lips Dan just made? Dan is genuinely beaming, suddenly remembering he should probably be modest infront of strangers, the grin lessens as he takes the caps. Stuffing them into his pockets, "Well now..." A puff of cigar smoke. "AtomVu is an old theater, for the folks with cars before the war. Raiders like to use it..apprently got the movies working again." He sits for a moment as he ponders things. "They have a few cars, some bikes, maybe even some horses." Dan shrugs.
Aris Now empty, Aristide's hands rest easily at her hips, thumbs looped in her gunbelt as she watches Dan salivate over those caps. Dark brows raise at his words. "Ya don't say?" she muses, aware of Yahweh's approach behind her but she doesn't turn to look yet. "Those fancy raiders got things that go boom, too?"
Franky Franky paused at the stairs leading up to the second floor outside of the workshop. He thought for a long moment, then began his climb upwards. Tough work midigating foot falls on gods-know-how-old these stairs were. He moved as qucikly as he could, as quietly as he could.
Yah Another step, Yahweh takes one last drag before tossing the half-smoked cigarette to the side as his foot falls upon the ground. Another step, his hand slips to his waist as his stride carries him past Aris to stand directly in front of the man in the chair. As his foot touches the ground this time, his sword is freed from the battered old scabbard stashed through his belt, and planted with a whirrrring thunk in the side of building, dubiously near to the side of Dan's head. "Tell us who they are, what kinda firepower they've got, how many of them there are, and who the fuck else is inside that building." he commands in a low, growling tone.
Franky "Dan....!" Comes the voice from inside the shop. "You foolin' about on the stairs?"

    Dan chuckles at Aris's boom comment, "Boom? Imagine they got plenty of boom..." His grin fades when the voice inside calls out, he's quickly doing the math of those present. He scowls for a moment before the figure of Yah is standing infrom of him. The gleam of steel makes him close his eyes, opening them a second later to a sword stuck in the building next to his dome piece. He eyes the sword and then Yah, "l-l-l-look.." He delays, cigar dropping from him mouth onto the ground. His eyes meet Yah's for a second and he relents. "They just some fucking raiders who watch movies at night." He takes a moment longer to process things, a nice deep breath. "Look, they got two cars and a few bikes...I just sell them parts on occasion. I don't know what else they got." He looks behind him then back to Yahweh. "It's my brother, Stan."
Franky The it was....the one squeaky stair in the set. Franky frowned, as he appeared like a wierd dancer on the stairs. He listened for a long time, then smelled the air. "Fuck it.." He mumbled, before moving up the stairs once more. Hopefully a little more quiet.
Aris So much for ham-handed diplomacy. "Hijo de puta, guapo..." Aris groans but she doesn't argue with Yahweh, smoothly drawing her revolver from its holster in an expression of reluctant solidarity. This is the sky pirates' show now. Rather than stay where she is, however, Aris slips past Yah and makes her way to the barn behind poor ol' Dan, taking cover against the siding as she glances into one of the windows. Where was this Stan fellow now? And where the fuck was Franky?
Yah With a rough grunt of effort, Yahweh pulls his sword free of the wall, one handed. His other hand snags a pistol out from under his robes, the large barrel of the gun pointing right at the man. "Hang on, Aris." he calls quietly to the woman, before nodding to the man in front of him. "Call Stan out here, I wanna have a chat with him too."
Franky Dan has a look of releif as the sword is pulled and sheathed, only to be disappointed as a gun gets pointed at his face. Dan is quietly contemplating his options. "Stan!" He calls, looking at Yah. "Come out here and talk to these, Idjits." Dan looks somewhat smug or maybe thats fear?"

    A few seconds later the frame of a man appears in the shadows of the bay door. Lord is he huge standing over yah by a few inches, also bald...whats with this town and shiny bald heads? Stan it seems is armed with a long gun of some type.
Franky Franky just can't catch a break today, these stairs must be curse. "fuck you, iceman." He mumbles as he stalks his way to the top of the stairs moving to get a look at whats down below in the shop.
Aris Gray eyes squint as they gaze through dirty glass, eventually spotting the object of their interest. "Does Stan work out?" she asks Dan with a grin, double-checking the ammo in her revolver. But then Yah's telling Dan to call him out, and she spares only the quickest of glances back at Yahweh, but it is a meaningful one. She stays put where she is, but offers quietly, "He's a big greasy fucker, guapo. Boomstick in hand." But then the dude's in the doorway, and Aris hangs back, thumb lingering on Lucky's hammer.
Yah The barrel of Yahweh's pistol shifts to train on the big fucker in the doorway, his sword finding his other hand and pointed toward Dan's throat. "Here's how this is gonna go down. The big bald mother's gonna put his gun down and tell us what he knows about 'em too, unless he wants you to eat a sword." Yahweh spits the words out of the side of his mouth, attention shifting between the two. "You're gonna give the lady her money back, and then we'll be taking most anything else of value that you've got handy too, including that longarm of his." He pauses, a snarling grin curling one side of his mouth, "Unless you want us to tell Jack that a mechanic in his own damn town is servicing raiders that he wants dead."
Franky Dan is looking over at his Bigger, younger, Brother. His face almost apologetic toward the larger dude. "Stan.." Is all he offers before there's a raipier at his throat. Still seated he turns to look back at Yahweh, his face glowing red. His throat swollows hard and then he digs into his pockets to start pulling out the caps.

    Stan flicks his eyes between the girl and Yah, a heavy sigh escapes his chest. "I told you not to barter with those raider fucks." Stan begins he looks down at his shotgun. Stan steps out into the light, muscles gleaming with grease and old oil. He lowers the shotgun, letting it drop into the dirt. "I just fix shit. He's the one who keeps the book." His voice is deep and certain, a man standing large before you with nothing else to offer.
Franky Franky furrows his brow up at the top of the shop stairs. Eyeing the inside of the shop, he sticks his nose through the window and gives it a whiff. "Greasy..." He mumbles, peering out toward the front he can see Aris and Yah having a Jack's Town standoff. "Ha! Hey guys?" He lets a moment go by, "This place is a complete dump, just old engines and car frames!"
Aris Aristide's lips part incredulously at this newest development. "Old habits die hard, hm?" she sighs at Yahweh as she raises her gun to train it on Beefcake, deeming him the bigger threat of the two. Her gun doesn't lower even after his does. Dusty cowboy boots take a few careful steps back, sidling around Yah's sword to get to Dan and those caps. "What else ya got on ya, Dan? Don't be shy." She robs this man with almost practiced ease. Franky's appearance doesn't go amiss. "Nothin' worth taking?" she calls to him.
Yah "There's reason." Yahweh smiles a tight little smile as his pistol remains pointed at the larger of the two brothers, even as he turns his head slightly to tip his chin in the barest of nods to Dan, "See, had you just been a little more forthcoming, none of this would have had to happen." He then calls up to Franky, without looking skyward, "Hop along down here if there's nothing to grab, and come get this shotgun. We gotta make tracks."
Franky Dan has retreated inside his head it seems, still red from from the turn of fortune. His is a cautionary tail it appears, His eyes flick to Aris when she comes to retake her caps. And her hands go further finding the items of he she would deem worthy, amoung them a small leather bound book. The look on his face eases into horror when it's found. He gulps hard rememboring the sword at his throat, he's spoken enough words today he concludes.

    Stan only has eye's for his borther, Aris nor Yah get a glance as they fleece his brother and most likely his shotgun soon to follow.
Franky Well the stairs are quicker travelled jogging than sneaking, and much louder too, creaks and groans as Franky makes his way down. He looks back at them as there was an audible crack from the last step. He appears out in the front, looking about. "Jesus your a big fella." Franky muses, bending over to scoop the shotgun up. "Well now, shall we?" He looks between Yah and Aris, giving the gun's action and rack and ejecting a shell onto the floor. He lets the shell remain, pumping the action forward to feed another round.
Aris Feeling warm leather against her fingertips, Aris slides that little book out of Dan's jacket, eyes glancing between it and the man who looks so horrified at its theft. A brow raises curiously as Franky comes around front just now. "We done here, guapo?" she glances to Yahweh, defering to him for now.
Yah Yah sticks his tongue out a bit at Franky as he reappears from the direction of the stairs, then grinning broadly. "Gentlemen, it has been a pleasure." He acknowledges the brothers with a quick nod, before replacing his weaponry. A glance then to his companions, one after the other, and he's wandering off down the street, hands cupped close to his face as he lights a cigarette, an idle grin still playing around the edges of his mouth.
Franky Stan and Dan are left to their tiny part of Jack's town, Dan watches the trio start to depart. While Stan stares daggers into Dan, assuming ones ears are intune enough you can hear the distict sound of an asswhoopin starting when the trio disappears from sight.
Franky Franky looks to Aris and then to Yah, giving a shrug before following after Yahweh.
Aris And Aris makes three, somehow keeping up with her sky pirate companions and thumbing through that book all at once.