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Stockton Occasionally the Marshal has reason to return to El Dorado. Today was because he needed to make his rounds through the Sheriff's building. The mountainous man known as Stockton to some, Marshal to most is elbows on a table with a blonde cowgirl. Their hushed discussion isn't entirely private as the bearded man sets his beer down again and chuffs, "I'm tellin' you the merchant aisle ain' been the same witout that fop what made my holsters, and no Tobie means no heart," he's sour.
Sparrow Sparrow's leaned back, she is careless her expression almost non-exsistant in her weather aged face. Bright blue eyes scan the room before she switches her cigarillo to the other side of her mouth to take with her off hand while she takes a long drink from her beer and sets it down. "Toni went on his way, Volkner, deal with it."
Ashlyn     One of the fresher faces in town, Ashlyn ambles in, slinging the beat up and field repaired .308 over her shoulder on its sling, a holster strapped to her right thigh. The woman is dressed in hides that look fairly well made and custom fitted to her. Bronzed skin as if she has spent a large amount of time in the Wasteland Sun, a Pipboy clamped around her right forearm, rucksack tied to her shoulders and last but not least a pair of thin framed rimless eyeglasses perched upon her nose. She glances around the Saloon for a brief moment as she moves through the main area to sidle up to the bar at the end, electing to stand rather than sit down as she reaches into a pouch on the belt strung about her hips and puts a few caps up on the counter, "Something that kicks like a Brahmin with something mellow to chase it down." She comments to the barkeep. Order in she turns her attention to undoing the leather strap holding up her thick black hair and runs the fingers of her right hand through her hair as the left ties the strap about her wrist while waiting for her drinks to arrive.
Rome Rome trudges in, the telltale sounds of power armor giving away his presence to all nearby before they even notice him as he thuds across the floor, beelining for the bar. The mysterious figure looks about from under his armored helmet, scanning those at the bar, Stockton, Sparrow and Ashlyn among them. He releases a staticy sounding breath through the filter, resting his bulky armored hand across the bartop, leaning his side into it.
Stockton Stockton snorts a bit and waves a hand off. "I'm dealin, don' mean I gotta be happy 'bout it," the last part earns a perk of his eyebrow though, "Really, Drake?" He just shakes his head and laughs with a guffaw before looking up to scan the new arrivals with a quick threat assessment. Eventually the Marshal with that shiny badge on his duster gives them a hattip. Looking down at his beer and then the hovering Mr. Handy that hasn't floated by them in a while, he's returning his glare to Sparrow. "And new faces even, our lucky day."
Sparrow Sparrow pops her teeth at him, "You're a marshal, i'd appreciate it if you didnt alert the whole damned fuckign community to my presence. You know how they fucking get." She smacks his arm with a backhand watching as Ash and Rome enter with a curious if dispassionate gaze putting her smoke back between her teeth. "How do we know if they're new? We've been on the road."
Ashlyn     As the soudns of clamping thudding footfalls Ashlyn is looking up and about, and spotting the Tin Suit arriving near her she gives Rome and gentle nod. At the arrival of her drinks she quits fussing with her mane and downs the shot, supressing the shudder but unable to keep herself from squinting her eyes closed as the liquor burns down her throat and into her gut. She lets out a hissed sigh of either pain or enjoyment as she puts the glass down and then glances to Rome a moment again, "Ain't it a bit hot running around in that roll of foil?" There's the slightest bit of a grin on the edge of her lips as she gently nudges the shotglass back towards the barkeep, then shifts the mug of beer to the side to swing the .308 off her shoulder, dropping the magazine and emptying the chamber before laying it across the bar.
Rome Rome looks ovee to Ashlyn as she wonders her question his way, gauntleted fingers splaying across the bars surface. "Get accustomed to it." he mentions to her in a slightly mechanical voice, "Got a name?" he muses of her, rising back up to full height with a drone of his suit, glancing over her shoulder to Stockton and Sparrow briefly.
Stockton Stockton blinks slowly at the blonde and rolls a broad shoulder, "No, how do they fuckin' get?" he asks with a pointed look before popping his teeth right back. The smack to his arm doesn't cause so much as a flinch as much as it puts a glint in his eyes that's predatory. Glancing back to the pair at the bar he decides to find out the answer to the burning question. "Y'all new 'round 'ere, er yanno new-ish?" he grins a bit toothsomely and reaches into the pile of handrolled cigarettes on the table and plucks up a match to light it. Taking a few puffs he awaits an answer after so brazenly barging into Rome and Ashlyn's conversation.
Sparrow Sparrow pops her teeth, "Shut your pie hole." She tells him with a smirk before taking another long pull from her beer. She doesn't ask she lets the big Tribal man gone Law ask the questions around here. She does flag down a Mr. Handy for another bottle though while she waits to hear the answer to her companion's question.
Ashlyn     "Little hard to drink with that tin can over your head innit?" Ashlyn responds to Rome as she begins field stripping the hunting rifle down, inspecting the bolt and spring for rust and built up grime before she takes a moment of a break to sip on the beer. "Folks call me Ash." She remarks as she puts the cup down and begins working on sliding the action back into place. A voice calling out loudly above the others makes her head come up from her work and she swivels her head, spotting the Marshal lighting up his smoke while pointedly glancing in their direction, "New enough I suppose." She calls out back across the bar towards his table, taking a proper look over the big fellow and the blonde seated with him now that they've gone and grabbed up her attention.
Rome Rome considers Ashlyn, hitching his shoulders in response to her question, "I suppose it is. That's why I haven't got a drink in my hand." the power-armor clad lad drones back. "I go by Rome, relatively new around this part." he says to her before speaking up, mechanical tinge evident as he raises his voice to carry over to Stockton and Sparrow. "You could say that, I met a ghoul named Babyface on my way in. Killed two bandits on a patrol with him." he supplies before going back to watching Ashlyn strip and build her rifle again while nursing her beer.
Sparrow Sparrow tops her hat, "Ash, I'm Row and this here is Marshall Volkner." She intrudices the two at the table. Her smile is breif, flashing premature lines from the terrible sun that beats down on the desert. "Welcome to the city then, more as like you've recieved the welcome wagon already but join us if you like, beers on me. When you're done takin care of your piece of course." Her brows lift, "Yeah, good name for a ghoul."
Ashlyn     "Should call you Drone." Ashlyn comments a bit quieter to the power suited individual at the bar with her, another ghost of a smirk on her lips. The clack of steel on steel as the action slides into place and she locks the bolt. She tucks the magazine away into a pocket on the side of her rucksack whilst her other hand swings the rifle back onto her shoulder via the strap. "Well hell, ain't gonna say no to a few free drinks, what about you tin can?" She grabs up her half empty mug and makes her way towards the Marshal's table.
Rome Rome glances between Ashlyn and the duo at the table, considering her. The mysterious figure begins striding over to the table behind Ashlyn, thumps filling the air around him, "Has the news of Vault 30 reached El Dorado yet?" he inquires, lowering himself onto a bench with a chorus of sounds from his armor.
Sparrow Sparrow laughs at Rome's question and she shakes her head, "Fucked if I know, kid." Nevermind that she herself looks young for the most part except for the pre-mature aging around her eyes. "I just breed horses and grow crops." If someone's good at telling if someone's lying they might get the hint of otherwise but the cowgirl isn't all hat forthcoming with information about it.
Ashlyn     Ashlyn swings her rifle down to prop it against the edge of the table as she pulls up a chair and settles on down, crossing her legs at the knee as she leans back into her chair, flicking her gaze between the three, "Vault 30? Hrmmm... Vaults have some good stuff in them, sounds like I won't be spending too much longer in town then. Whutcha know about the place Drone?" As an afterthought she raises her mug up towards Sparrow with a nod, "And thanks for the invite."
Rome Rome listens to Sparrow fib, though he has no of knowing she's lying through her teeth. From behind his helmet he scans her weathered face, eventually resting his sight on her own and the crows-feet around them. "Word is The Enclave guards watching the place were recently defeated." in a low mechanical voice, he looks aside to Ashlyn as he finishes, "I want to get my hands on whatever technology is in there." he adds quieter than before, resting his hands atop his armored thighs, bulky and armored he is in his tin suit.
Stockton Stockton listens quietly for a few moments just puffing on his cigar seeing as Sparrow's gone and introduced him already. Chewing on that handroll, he swaps it to the other side and actually snorts smoke at the cowgirl. Shaking his head slightly, "She also used tah know 'bout the vault," he confides not so subtely calling the blonde out. Then there's a full belly laugh for Rome, "You'n every yahoo what's got two bits to 'is name an' some gumption. Son," he says it like a drag queen says 'gurl!'. "Word was no one knew where it was, then word was everyone knew where it was, we been chasin that damn vault for better part'a two years. That was afore the mutant invasions, the mothersihp abductions and subsequent crash landing, den yeah, makes sense Enclave got there first, they always do. Why not. Now what you really oughta be worried 'bout is dem robits what look like people."
Sparrow Sparrow gives Stock a sidelong look and flicks a pop-top at him with a long stare from under her hat. She shrugs, "Just another resource everyones goin' ta war over. So where it is isn't important for me to know." She counters before looking back to Rome and Ash. "Ya'll hopefully'll have some luck on that. And yeah like he Marshall says try not to get waylaid along the way. We loose more good folk that way."
Ashlyn     Ash goes a bit more rigid in her seat at Stockton's last few words, a bit of a squint coming to those eyes behind the glasses. She frowns momentarily before she takes the time of Sparrow's speech to drain her mug, placing it on the table lightly, "And what do you know of robots that look like people Marshal?" She says with a soft spoken voice but a hard edge toits undertones as she looks at him from over the tops of the well taken care of spectacles.
Rome Rome glances between Stockton and Sparrow as they speak, remaining silent as he listens to them have their say in turn, when Ashley prods Stockton further about Reavers or Synths, he chimes in, speaking in his mechanical drawl. "I'd like to know what I'm getting into if I find a suitable guide." Rome taps his bisected armored fingers against his plated thighs, a light crackle as a breath escape through the filter on his helmet.
Stockton Stockton might be thick skulled and full of salt, but he's crafty and he's observant; the sudden rigidity of Ash is noted and it earns his scarred eyebrow lofted in her direction. Just enough attention paid that he doesn't see the poptop flicked at him and it catches him at the forehead. A bestial snort and he snarls a little at his companion, yet no lunging. Back to Ash, "I know Solomon hooked the Enclave up with the Sindicate, er elsewise they got 'hold of him and turned 'im. Met the first human-ish version we know of when a few deputies thought they'd caught Jarod. Right after I noticed he weren't bleedin', it tried to kill me. Been seein' more of'em ever since. Ones what look like all manner'a people, includin' me. Most times they end up goin boom, but ain't always. S'far as we know they can't bleed...don' mean that ain't changed. Some how they git yer memories an' shit. Fer all I know Solomon's long dead an' it's just his robotic clones hauntin' us. Either way s'all parta the end times far as the aliens were concerned." He shrugs, "Syndicate split offa some other club called The Institute, you know how it goes, someone thinks they can do it better, then well - then someone gets the same idea. Internal struggles abound last I knew. Been keepin an eye out fer anyone from either of the brain clubs tah give us somethin' better to work off of."

Then to Rome, "Yer gettin yerself in shit deeper than yer pretty suit can safely filter. Yer goin' up against Enclave, NCR, and prolly some Legion if they're still kickin'. Yer fightin mutants an' everyone else dat wants a piece of what's in that Vault. If it's what some think it is? It means restartin' this shit-hole, just a question of under who's reign. You can prolly git yer hands on some shit, but don't get too cocky, there's already an entire Federation, a Republic, and a Dominion lookin' to claim the spot. Ain't our fight anymore," he glances at the blonde beside him. "Otherwise, you get past all that, you may er may not have to deal wit President Z, the artificial intelligence that wants to embed itself into the Vault and take over the world."
Sparrow Sparrow looks amused at Stockton before she laughs and shakes her head, "Plenty of allies if you can make'm and know where to find'm though. Groups that'll work with ya if you give'm the time of day. So sometimes it can even out. Marshall's kinda given ya'll the abridged version of events but that's about it. Basically, don't trust anyone but your squad If you need real backup call the law."
Ashlyn     Ashlyn's grip on the mug tightens until her knuckles whiten, and then seeming to become aware of the tension she removes her hand from the cup and folds them in her lap as she continues to listen. Softly, a harsh whisper really, "I ran across one. About a mile out coming from the north. Tried to take my stuff.. shot it and it started sparking instead of bleeding and then it blew up, almost took me with it." There's a far away look to her eyes for a moment, "Looked so... like a person.." She clears her throat, "I mean it just.. it isn't like I haven't had to kill raiders or crazies in my days traveling the Wastes but... a machine that looked so... human..." She shakes her head a bit then nods to Sparrow, "I don't tend to turn to the Law less'n I get slighted by someone in their community often times I just handle things myself being a drifter."
Rome Rome guffaws within his helmet, the droning chuckle robotic as it escape his helmet. "Unless you two fancy coming to the Vault with me, I'll have to keep looking elsewhere. What about you Ashlyn, are you up for the mission?" he inquires of the lass, craning his neck towards her, resting his hands on the table now.
Stockton Stockton flashes Sparrow that toothy smile that's somewhere between he might bite her and he might like her. "Basically," he nods in agreement before giving attention to Ashlyn. The tale told one very familiar. But then, he's faced down gigantic robotic death machines, supermutants, and aliens, what's adding people looking robots to the bonfire? He grimaces a little and just nods, "Yeah, sounds 'bout right. Yer just lucky ya didn' know the face," he stops and peers a little more focused, "Er maybe yah did, an' yer still tryin' to figure out if yer the real one?" he offers a consoling headtilt, "See if yah bleed," he prompts without really remarking on how. "'Round here the Law is overreachin'. We done formed a Federation out of our many communities, under a Marshalhood, and each town havin' their own Sheriffs. The Marhsals is my baby," yes The Stockton Volkner and shit, Legendary yadda yadda horn tooting; you've heard of him. "We operate a lil different than most Law, an' I'ma keep it that way," he grins some. Angling his features towards the power armored man, he has that scarred eyebrow lifting again, "Yer lookin' to get to the Vault, son, yer gonna need tah make more friends than her, or us. Join the Desert Rangers, join the Militia, join the Marshals, guarantee you'll get inside the Vault. Whether yer on the winnin side?" he rolls his shoulder and chuckles, "Kinda depends on how well yah shoot."
Sparrow Sparrow points at Stockton, "I meant the law, not the friggin Sherriffs. Glorified night Watchmen most'v'm." She snorts a little and then echoes, "From the mirror.." After Stockton's comment about the face. She owns her beer though ands tubs out her cigarillo waving the mechanical waiter over to get another round for everyone. She leans on the table this time. "And have a guide and a plan. A plan for everything. I aint fuckin' kiddin.. and if someone crosses your ass. Take the fucking shot. Don't hesitate."
Sparrow It also might be about time that they notice if they care too that Sparrow doesn't pay nearly as much for stuff, and folks seem to know her. Waving or nodding as they pass..
Ashlyn     Ash shakes her head, "Ain't never someone I saw before, and I know I bleed." She smirks a bit at Stockton though it's a ghost of amusement. She seems to perk up a bit as another round is mentioned towards the Mr. Handy, turning her attention to Rome a moment then shaking her head, "'Fraid not Drone, I work alone, though maybe if you go a clanking around in that tin of yours I might hover around behind and see whuts I can't pick off." THis smirk is a bit more genuine this time as the good mood begins to return to her.
Stockton Stockton gets rather dead-pan serious with the jaded tone that Sparrow brings. He just nods solemnly. "Watch fer you'n yers. We done learned the hard way, it's a fucked off Wasteland," he shrugs and stubs out his cigarillo, only to pull out two fresh, handing one to the blonde with him before striking a match to pull on the tip again. Sweet sweet nicotine. "Speakin' of which," he nudges Sparrow's foot under the table though he might have /thought/ it was subtle. "Y'all need gear, er a place tah start; we can take care of yah. Been a few long years'a scavving an' survivin', but we still remember what it was like showin' up all doe-eyed," he gives the blonde a look that says 'don't we'.
Sparrow Sparrow takes the rolly and then blinks at Stockton staring at him. "Don'tcha feel just a little like that's cheatin? Yes, we have gear we could get rid of.." Then she eyes Stockton for a moment longer and sighs and nods. "Yeah, yer new to the area. Ya need some help, like, you genuinally want it. ya'll come to us. We'll give ya what we can. I'll heal ya up, Stock can train ya.. Whatever ya'll like. All right. I'm usually found up in Avalon, but I come down here to visit the family every now and again, and run clinic."
Ashlyn     Ashlyn grins a bit at their offers and shrugs a bit, "I ain't no spring chicken myself, but can't say I'd turn down a helpin' hand when I need it." She drains her glass from the second round, "Well folks, I think its time for me to find a corner to call my own for the rest of the evening before I head out into the Wastes tomorrow."
Stockton Stockton just chuckles and shrugs, "Ain' cheatin' if it wins us some new friends," he chides the blonde before finishing off his beer. "Don' gotta be a spring chicken tah need a hand. Er a helmet," he shrugs with a grin and looks at the cowgiel beside him with those wild eyes, "Prolly time we checked on the homestead," he notes without at all hiding the fact that he has ulterior motives. Pig.
Rome Rome hitches his plated shoulders in response, "I wouldn't turn down the help, but I think we're different in training." he drones in that mechanical sounding voice, nodding aside to Ashlyn as she announces her plans to turn in for the night, "Nice meeting you, lightweight." the tin man bids her in farewell, resting his gaze back on Sparrow and Stockton across the table. "If you can prove me wrong, I'll be surprised."
Sparrow Sparrow inclines her head, "Nice meeting you too." She lifts her hand to Ash and then glances at Stockton with a long expression and she doesn't need to tell him verbally where to stick it because the look says -everything-. She's quick to look back to Rome and then gestures to Stockton. Instead she decides to down half her beer.
Stockton Stockton eyes the plated behemoth for a long moment and shrugs, "Yer a soldier, er else a fighter. Yah figured out how tah work the pistons an' systems of the power armor. I can still teach yah how tah shoot straighter, aim better, an' how tah throw a punch faster. Also how tah be crafty, but most times fellers in power armor jus' wanna pick up the heaviest hammer they can find and start lookin' at their problems like they're nails." Giving Ash a tip of his Stetson he smiles as she goes, "It ain't hard tah find us," he notes before glancing at Sparrow. Challenge accepted, mon ami.
Rome Rome chuckles at Stockton, offering the departing woman a glance as she gets up from the table. "Crafty in power armor? I didn't think it was possible." he says across the table with a clipping static noise as he finishes droning. "Well you two have business to attend. It was nice talking."
Sparrow Sparrow sighs, "We have a long ass ride home. BUt yeah, hey, it's been nice chatting. Again stop by if you want and if I feel likeyou've got it in ya to take the walk I might tell you where Vault 30 is."
Stockton Stockton smirks and taps the hardened plates he wears, "Armor's armor, yah wanna be crafty innit, yah can," he says rather sure of himself at least. A smirk at the mention of business to attend and he can tell Sparrow's already had enough of it, just makes his enjoyment of it that much more. But then she's offering to tell him where Vault 30 is and he just pops his teeth at her with a grin, saying no more on the subject.
Rome Rome nods his cumbersome head at Sparrow, "I'll come find you tomorrow or something." he says, lowering his hands from the tables surface into his lap. "When you're not so tied up." The power armor clad figure nods to the two across the table.
Sparrow Sparrow is not giving Stockton the time of day. Someone must be in the doghouse, or he is just perpetullay there. She nods towards Rome and the stoic faced cowgirl stands up an stubs her second cig out.
Stockton Stockton tips his hat for the second time, bidding Rome adieu before turning to the cowgirl with a grin. He probably lives in the doghouse and rolls around in the mud before earning another stay. Standing up as well, he swaps hat for helmet, nightvision clicking on with a whirr as he hoists his pack and their gear to move out to two waiting mares.