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Lockreed Time had passed since an odd encounter with a Legionnaire, an amnesiac with no pants, and a Deathclaw (stop me if you've heard this one before,) but the needs of survival remain ever present. The Wasteland is never an easy place to live, certainly not when travelling alone. Sooner or later, something has to break...

Perhaps someone else's skull...

Or someone's own sanity.

It's not terribly far outside of El Dorado that a hunter lurks, seeking out the smaller and easier to tackle prey in the forms of explorers or, if really lucky, an ill-guarded caravan. Nothing more than a rusted crowbar and a nervous tic accompany the woman with bright green hair and blood-shot eyes, struggling within herself to fight back against the need to juice up with another needle in her arm when her supplies are already quite limited. Few known cures exist, and even then they are temporary at best. Getting into a fight, and..getting into a really big fight.

Today she'll take what she can get.
Jacqueline Well, whether she makes the cut for a target or not, Jacqueline Wayne is coming along this way. She's clad in a nice-looking outfit, a leather jacket and pants, apparently crafted from gecko hide, along with a cap crafted from similar material. Her eyes roam the wastes as always, looking for the telltale gleam of metal or ceramic to betray the location of some hidden bit of scav-worthy goodness.
At least, until a familiar voice from nearby jars her concentration. "Whassup! Whas-sup?"
The dark-haired girl sighs. "Go home, you silly thing! There's no one to give you treats out here, and you scare away all the game."
"Doctor Livingston, I presume?" comes the reply, along with a click-click-clicking that's distinctly crow-like, coming from a black bird with white markings, perched on a cactus not far from Jackie.
Lockreed Oh, what's this over yonder? Someone outside of the city limits, check. Making noise and looking distracted, check. Two voices, but something doesn't seem right about one of them... Lockreed shields her eyes atop of a nearby dune to try and get a better look, quickly having to stifle a snort upon seeing that the second person is, in fact, a BIRD.

No, she isn't tripping out. It's a goddamn BIRD. A noisy and distracting bird, at that.


Even from a distance 'Reed can make out the lines of a longarm, shotgun or rifle doesn't much matter to her. It's a noise-stick. Avoid the business end. Could make for a nice prize, too. She'll just have to play this one carefully.

HAH. A Raider, being careful! Nuts to that!

Lockreed sheds her own biker jacket, fully revealing the tribal tattoos covering both of her arms. Included amongst these is the gang ink she acquired from the Rad Dagger raider clan. The crowbar slaps back into her eager palm then she sprints toward the lone wanderer, giving her a typical Rad Dagger greeting with all of zero warning:

Jacqueline "No, and you know I'm not. Go home, Whassup!" Jackie calls back, shaking her head exasperatedly. "Go... YAH!!!" The last is a startled shriek as /something/ comes running and roaring out of the dunes at her! She takes a startled step back and to one side, trying to bring up her shotgun in time...
...and stumbles as her foot drops over the top of the low dune she's on! She flails her arms as she loses her balance, and tumbles down the side of the dune, losing her hold on her shotgun. The fowling piece goes flying and ends up in the sand a few feet away, on the far side of its owner from the charging raider.
Jackie comes to rest at the base of the dune, spitting out a mouthful of sand. She begins trying to scramble to her feet.
"Whoops! Butterfingers..." observes Whassup, cocking his head.
Lockreed Intimidation win! Or maybe Lockreed just got lucky, but no of -course- it was because she's an intimidating warrior! Rar. Already the one lady is down on the ground AND disarmed, it's almost unfair that Jackie's stumble would have robbed 'Reed of the satisfaction! In an accelerated heartbeat the lime green-topped Raideress is on top of Jackie, crowbar raised high ready to practice the ol' log-splitter move upon the poor lady's skull--

Poor -girl's- skull...

Is that..a KID?!

For a prolonged moment Lockreed stands there with such a fury boiling in her glare, every muscle held taut within her in that clear look of a drugged-out freak with murder in their mind. Except... Heavy breathing hesitates somewhat, followed by an almost reluctant dipping of the stained crowbar.

"Aw, -fackit.- I can't ice a damn kid." A quick glance around the two is risked, making sure that it really is just the two of them out here (and perhaps a mouthy bird) before she points down at Jackie's face with the straight end of the crowbar. "Keep your ass down if you know what's good for ya. I'm not against bustin' a knee, got it?"

She's just here for the loot. But since when does a -raider- stop at killing a teen?
Jacqueline "Yow!" Jackie flings her arms up in front of her face as she's suddenly tackled, yelping in fright. She certainly /looks/ like a kid, being small and lithe. Even though the armor's been refitted for her size, she still looks more like a teenager playing dress up in her older sister's leathers than the mechanic she is. "I'll... I'll stay right here," she promises, shivering and trying not to look at the taller woman.
Lockreed Without intimidation, Lockreed would just be another beggar out in the Wastes. It's nice to know that she still has what it takes without the rest of the clan being involved! With Jackie down the hunt for food, water, and any of those blessed chems gets underway, though there's something about this encounter which just feels

Aside from the fact that her victim isn't either lying dead or in the process of getting enslaved, that is. It's one of the first things she learned while joining the raiding party, don't leave any survivors! They'll just shoot you in the back! Jackie could probably read the conflicting thoughts right off of Lockreed's expression, even the thought of stealing all of these supplies from someone who's clearly just..not..that old...

With a meaty *Thunk* the crowbar's curved end slaps into an open palm, once more staring down at the girl. "What the hell are you doing out here by yourself?" she demands, as if accusing the girl of having done something horrible.
Jacqueline Shaking still, Jackie looks past her protectively-spread fingers at the green-haired, green-eyed horror in front of her. "I... I come out here a lot... looking for p-p-parts and old stuff," she manages to say. Lowering her hands, she regards Lockreed with wide, fearful brown eyes. "I-is that so bad? I mean, it's out here t-t-to f-find, and I n-n-need to fix my b-bike. And I c-can't do that without p-parts..."
Lockreed This isn't right. Maybe it's the lack of a full clan. Maybe because Lockreed didn't juice up before the skirmish as tradition always mandated. She wants to see the carnage, witness the blood flying, but this..? This isn't -that.-

While Jacqueline explains herself 'Reed's chugging a bottle of water and crushing the empty vessel, carelessly tossing the scrap back into the irradiated desert with the rest of the unwanted garbage. "Nah, I mean -you.- Why are you alone? Ain'tcha been told it's dangerous out here?" she asks then snorts and glances out across the horizon as if finding all of this so very amusing.

The crowbar gets braced across her shoulders, letting her hands dangle off of the ends of it. "What the frag. Get up. I ain't bustin' up a spineless youth." Right after saying this she turns to look down at Jackie then promptly motions with a jerk of her head. "Up! This just ain't right, man."
Jacqueline "I can't always find anyone to go with me," Jackie replies, slowly getting over her initial fright. "And I stay close to town, most of the time."
Obediently, she begins getting to her feet. "Thanks. I was getting sand in my clothes..." Not that you don't get that anyway, but windblown sand isn't quite so... abundant.
Lockreed Surprisingly enough, Lockreed isn't paying much attention to Jacqueline when she's picking herself up out of the sand. Rather, the fused-out tattooed chick is pinching the bridge of her nose and muttering something to herself which involves a healthy amount of curse words and various things which seem to question her own sanity. Maybe she's just past-due for her next reality crisis.

Then..there's the matter of the shotgun still lying there in the dust. It could be very useful. Of COURSE it could be useful. Even if she didn't know how to shoot the darn thing it could be useful! But then there's the former owner of it, reduced to a stuttering mess in the grit. Does 'Reed want the bangstick, of course she does! But does she -need- it..?

The gun is picked up from the ground and looked over, turned so the fine powder can fall out of the barrel. She only knows the most basic of skills when it comes to guns, and it shows. Ultimately though, with an angry sounding snort and a grinding of teeth she tosses the shotgun back over to the younger girl.

"Hit me with that and I -will- make you suffer. Take it and get out of here."
Jacqueline "Wait... Mister Ashur mentioned you, I think. A Raider woman close to town," Jackie says, blinking as she recalls the past conversation with the former Legionnaire. "He said you ran off when he punched a Deathclaw, keeping it busy, like. You're still out here?" she asks, confused.
Then the shotgun comes flying at her, without so much as a 'think fast'. She catches it awkwardly with both hands, blinking in surprise. "You're letting me go? Why?" If anything, it's even more confusing than the initial attack!
Lockreed The name 'Mister Ashur' doesn't mean anything to Lockreed, there hadn't been time for introductions during that initial encounter with that particular wall of muscle. Though the rest of the story, 'punched a deathclaw,' maybe the name for that horrifically mutated species isn't all that familiar to her but it still brings the memory of it to the front of her mind. Just thinking of the great beast causes her to bristle, a slow pace coming to an immediate halt as half-gloved fingers viciously tighten around the weapon.

Slowly, with narrowed eyes, she looks back to the girl. "Yah, I'm 'still out here.' Where the frack am I supposed to go, huh?" Maybeeee..back with the rest of her clan? Where the heck might they be, anyway?

To the next question about letting her go, the shotgun exchanged for the uninterrupted heft of the crowbar, Reed once more points the end of the battle-scarred tool at Jackie with an automatic snapping of "Don't make me change my mind, girl!" Quickly after it's followed by a weary sigh, and a muttered "I'm not a rad-blasted kid killer..." spoken as though trying to convince herself that it's true.
Jacqueline Jackie shrinks back, making no move to point the weapon at the green-haired fury. "I just thought you would've m-moved on, or something. You can survive out here, but it's not easy. Why haven't you tried to go into town, or something? I mean, sure, you've got all kinds of ink, but the right jacket'd cover that up. And green hair isn't /that/ uncommon."
"Shuffle off to Buffalooooo~..." Whassup warbles cheerfully, watching the two silly people-things.
Lockreed The question seems to be given some thought, yet Lockreed's next response isn't to the question so much as her giving an entirely animal-like snarl at the bird when it starts singing. It isn't done out of a legit challenge to the bird's well-being so much, rather the act of spite is to try and push other thoughts out of her mind.

'Moved on'... Go into town? "Kid, looks alone ain't gonna get the job done. They shoot raiders on sight, yah? I can't live there. Don't -want- to live there. The land's meant to be hunted, out here's the place to be. I ain't givin' them the satisfaction of an easy kill."
Jacqueline "Well, that's kinda what I was getting at. If you don't look like a raider, they probably won't look at you that hard," Jackie points out. "But if you'd rather not, it's your choice. I just thought I'd mention the option."
She looks over at Whassup. "I think it's time to go, feather-brain. That snarl doesn't promise treats."
The mynah bird looks at them again, cocking his head and one-eyeing the pair. "Pedal to the metal, baby!" he says at last, taking wing and circling once before he flaps off towards El Dorado.
Lockreed 'If you don't look like a raider...'

Lockreed actually pauses to look down at herself once more voicing a tiny snort. Then again, the hide might not be cut from the same animal but the girl's dressed rather similarly. Minus the chains, spikes, and tattoos.

Then the idea hits the warped woman's mind. "Hold it." Suddenly she's found a use for the teen. Without any explanation given Reed goes to retrieve the previously discarded jacket from the dune, carelessly shaking the grit off of the worn garment. "You..are gonna be my ticket into town," she finally declares with a wicked glint in her eye. Who's gonna shoot her if it looks like she's a hired guard for Jackie?
Jacqueline "Me?" Jackie asks, surprised once again by the turning of the woman's thoughts. "But you still look like a raider, dressed like that! I mean, all that metal and rust sticks out," she points out reasonably. "I don't think the gate guards would miss those details." She narrows her eyes, looking over the woman's attire. "Do they come off?"
Lockreed "You'd best not be goin' deaf on me, girl," Lockreed grunts. The thought of removing some of the nastier pointy bits from her attire doesn't seem to sit all that well with her. It's part of her intimidation game! But..perhaps a new strategy is in order. She isn't much of the deep thinking sort, anyway. Maaaaybe, but..!

"-You- look just like they do. -You- have the guns. Who's gonna think I'm a murderin' psycho if I'm walking alongside ya through the gates? I'm just some hired muscle ya picked up along the way, right?"
Dominic Dominic rides up on his horse his midevil armor shining in the sunlight "hello there you all wouldnt by any chance need help" he says eyeing the raider armor
Jacqueline "I have a bad feeling about this..." Jackie murmurs, shrugging and turning back towards El Dorado, careful to keep the shotgun pointed away from her newfound escort. "So, what do I call you? If I shop up at the gate and they start asking questions, it's gonna look real funny if I don't even know your name."
She looks up in surprise (again) as she hears hoofbeats. She'd been so caught up in dealing with the raider woman that she hadn't even noticed the horseman! "Oh, hi! No, I'm good. Just... talking to her about how the watering holes out this way are," she replies, managing a smile. She eyes the man quizzically. "Are you hot in that suit? It looks like it'd be an oven on a day like this!"
Lockreed Hmm, a name might help. Maybe. Does it even matter? "Lockreed," she declares as though there's nothing at all unusual about having such a name.

It all seems to be going oh so very well in her mind. Free access to the town, a (relative) clean slate, a chance to fly under the radar and an opportunity to pillage to her heart's content--

Then there's some guy kitted out in full metal riding up on a horse. She points at the knight with her crowbar, using it more like someone might use a cane or walking stick more than a weapon, sneers, and pointedly asks "Who's this hack supposed to be? Like a big ol' can o'Cram on a beast, right here. Yah, if you wanna part with your blade I'd be happy to take it." Good manners and her aren't on speaking terms.
Dominic Dominic shrugs his shoulders "aye tis hot in my armor, but i got used to it a while ago " he looks over to the lady and rests his hand on the hilt of it "the only way someones taking my sword is to kill me first" he was uneasy bout the person in raider armor now hes pretty defensive around her looking back to the other woman "my nimes knight Dominic of the Blackstone family"
Jacqueline "I'm Jackie, Jackie Wayne," the waifish tech-girl replies, giving the armored man a smile, and even sparing a little of it for Lockreed the raider. Inside, of course, she's wondering if the sun's getting to her. How many actual knights do you meet these days, even when they /are/ wearing powered armor and not the original knight armor? And how many /swords/ do you see anymore?
She does glance at Lockreed, nervous warning written all over her face. "I don't know him, or I didn't, but I'd just let him keep the sword. He looks like he knows how to use it."
Lockreed With the challenge issued forth Lockreed looks about ready to step right on over and attempt to pry the knight right out of his armor with nothing more than a crowbar (big ol' can of Cram, indeed!) but something manages to make her give pause before the first lunge can be made. Getting into a fight moments before trying to slip into the town without any setbacks miiight prove to be an issue... That, and she knows first-hand what a pain in the rear metal armor can be without the right offensive tools.

Instead, what she does do is attempt to move closer to the horse-mounted knight and rap her knuckles against his shin plate as if checking whether that really is full metal he's wearing. "I've seen some crazy, but this..." She's not sure whether she likes the idea or not!
Dominic Dominic had enough of the would be raider and hop down from his steed walking a fair bit away from it he draws his sword "if ye really want thy sword duel me for it first to yeild loses" he pulls his sheild from his back as well
Jacqueline "Oh, fudge..." Jackie murmurs, skipping back a couple steps. "Do you really have to fight? I mean, you /do/ look all kinds of odd, Mister Dominic... I mean, /Sir/ Dominic. You must get reactions like this a lot, I'd think."
Lockreed Tempting. So veeery tempting. Lockreed hasn't had a proper fight in what feels like ages! One quick injection of her secret weapon and away she'd go, there's no way a tin can like this could keep up with her on foot. Basic metal plate is heavy stuff! Though as she's hunkering into a fighting stance and baring her teeth it's the diminutive Jackie, the very girl who could barely speak out of fright not that long ago, whose gentle protest reminds the raider of her ultimate goal here.

The town. El Dorado. Not some fancy piece of steel.

"Hah. You're more fused out'n I am," she tells the knight while playfully catching the curved end of her weapon in an open palm. "Got places to be today."
Dominic Dominic puts his sword and sheild  away before hopping back onto his horse and riding off twords rosewell without saying a word
Jacqueline Jackie stares after the retreating horse's ass... and the horse he rode in on. "I guess chivalry really is dead," she says at last, looking at Lockreed and shrugging. "Are you still wanting to get into town? If you are, we should start walking. We've got a mile or two to cover."
Lockreed Sometimes reality can be difficult to separate from the chem-induced delusions. How long has it been since Lockreed's last fix..? (Too friggin' long.) As the bizarre sight of the tin man rides off she stands there with the strangest look on her face, only breaking out of the momentary trance when Jackie speaks again. "Did that just happen?" she asks while hooking a thumb in the direction of the departing knight. "I'm just..really..what?"

This next trance requires a slap across the side of her face to break free of, one which she's all too quick to self-administer. "Right. Don't go doin' anythin' crazy. That's my job."
Jacqueline "He seemed real to me," Jackie replies, shrugging. "Looked, sounded, even /smelled/ real. If he wasn't, he was sure convincing!" She winces faintly, seeing that slap. "Do you often see things that aren't there?"
Lockreed "More often'n I care to think about," Reed mutters in response before giving her head a quick, firm shake. Because that always helps relieve headaches... "If that's what people look like in this town then I'd be doin' it a favor gettin' it blazing."

Once more she's quick to change the subject away from herself. "You said something 'bout a bike before. You some sorta tinker?"
Jacqueline "I think he's new in town. If he isn't, he's been invisible 'til now," Jackie says, wincing and taking the first steps in the direction of El Dorado. "He'd be too hard to miss, otherwise. Nobody else looks like that."
She glances back, nodding. "I fix things, sure. I'm working on a motorcycle, but it's looking to be a long-term project. Motor parts and vehicle-type components aren't easy to find in any condition, let alone working shape."
Lockreed Lockreed momentarily wrinkles her face. "Okay, if -that- guy can get around town then maybe I do have a chance."

Then there's mention of Jackie's project. "A mo-tor-cy..wha?" she tries to pronounce with some clear difficulty. "The bike? Look kid, just leave that old shit alone, yah? That's doesn' don't..." she continues to struggle, palming the side of her head as if the very act of thinking is difficult.

"Don't anger the spirits."
Jacqueline "Mo-tor-cy-cle," Jackie replies, sounding it out for the raider. "It has two wheels, runs on nuclear power, and it can cover ground a /lot/ faster than we can... or at least it could, if I could get it working. But I know how to fix it..."
She blinks in surprise at Lockreed's concerns, then has to turn away, her shoulders shaking as she tries to hold in laughter. "Don't disturb the /spirits/?"
Lockreed Vehicles aren't a new concept to Lockreed. Proper language, however...

Then the girl's laughing at her. At the nasty scary raider! There's the sudden flash of anger jumping up to the surface, a coiling back of an arm as if to punch poor Jackie. "Don't--!" No strike follows through, the fingers flexing once from their tightened fist before her arm slowly lowers.

"..Yah. The spirits. Of the Ancestors. Those who left this world to ruin. It's all--just shut up," she ultimately gives up on the matter.
Jacqueline Jackie, used to civilized conversation, doesn't turn around at the word 'don't', and so misses the never-thrown punch. But the rest of the reply has her shaking her head and dabbing at her eyes with the back of one finger. "Lock, there /aren't/ any spirits! All that those ancients left behind was their ruins and their technology, what of it survived. I've fixed dozens of things and never had an ancient tell me off about it!" She glances back at the woman, grinning bemusedly. "If there's an ancient around right now, spirit or otherwise, I'll eat my gecko-hides."
Lockreed The reaction only further ticks Lockreed off, yet unlike before she's not threatening Jackie with violence this time around. "You only believe in what you can touch, that it? Can't 'pick up a spirit?' Forget this, I ain't talkin' about it anymore."

The subject isn't so quick to leave her thoughts. Once more her attention goes back to the crowbar, this time held almost delicately within both of her hands despite the way she seems to glare down upon it. "What do -you- believe in, girl? Nothing?"
Jacqueline "I believe in what I can /do/, Lock," Jackie replies, seriously this time, turning to face her. "If I take a step, I'm moving," she says, taking a step to one side. "If I pull down my pants, they're down 'til I pull them up again," she adds, hanging her shotgun from her shoulder by its leather sling. Her hands free, she casually unfastens her leather pants and takes them down, shaking them a little to rid the inside of the dust from earlier. Standing in her sky blue briefs, she puts her hands on her hips. "I believe that things don't happen for us. It's up to us to make them happen. It's not complicated, but it works for me. Take that a little farther, and I'm putting things together, things that help other people, and sometimes me, too. I believe in doing for others, so they have better lives. Sometimes that means coming out here and poking around for useful stuff, but that's just part of the job."
Lockreed A conversation with this much depth might prove to be a little much for Lockreed but she comes to a stop and turns to face Jackie in full. Even with some sort of warning it catches her off guard when the other gal drops her pants, right here and now.

"Of -course- you have to make things happen," she snorts. "Do you think I believe everything will be handed to me by pissing about?" She looks ready to go into more detail but stops herself once more, able to identify a losing battle for once. Instead she changes tactics. "And I believe that it's hard to keep your balance when your pants are down," she announces before reaching out to give Jackie a healthy shove.
Jacqueline Jackie blinks. "Huh? I didn't say you belie-EEEEP!" she starts to say, but then she's suddenly pushed! She stumbles a step, pulling a booted foot free of her downed pants, but she still ends up on the ground on her backside, looking up at Lock. "Hey! I thought we were having a conversation here!" she says indignantly, glaring up at the raider.
Lockreed This time when Lockreed stands over Jacqueline it's with hands on hips rather than raised above her head. "That hasn't changed for me," she replies with a dark grin. "Be careful about undressin' around others. Where I'm from that'd land ya in a heap of unwanted attention real quick. Like geckos to a fresh carcass."

No help is offered to Jackie for getting back to her feet. Instead Lock's much more keen on rubbing the side of her head some more with a grimace. Straight out of the blue she asks "Ever kill a man?" Without waiting for a response she continues, "Just a pile of meat afterward. Where do you suppose they go? Maybe to the sky when the meat is burned? To the ground where the meat gets buried? Maybe they're drawn to something solid, something with some heft like rock or metal."

If Jackie hasn't gotten herself up yet she'll finally be offered the end of the crowbar. "What of the people who used to roam this land before it was brought to an end? The ancient pictures show more people than I could ever imagine, all living in the same spaces. They could not just ..'disappear.'"
Jacqueline Jackie blushes, thinking about that. "Good point," she admits softly. Still, the other woman's standing over her, so there's not much room for getting up. She draws up her knees, trying to at least make sitting there in the sand in her underpants look a /little/ dignified.
The change of subject makes her think again. "There's a lot of talk about that. But I don't know. I think it's intended to be a mystery. But then again, maybe we just... /end/. I don't like to think about it. I know I'm alive now, and that's it. I leave worrying about it for people who have less work to do."
After a long moment, the hooked end of the crowbar is in front of her nose. Blushing a little, she pulls her pants free of her other foot and takes the offered crowbar end. "Cities," she supplies, letting herself be drawn to her feet if that's what Lockreed intends. "The ancients lived there in huge buildings that held hundreds of people. And I think the movies and pictures don't all take place at the same time."
Lockreed There's no malice this time, Lockreed simply hefts Jackie back to her feet while thoughtfully rolling the word across her tongue. "Cities..." Much easier to pronounce than 'motorcycle!' Once the two are (more or less) face to face again she takes on a suspicious look, not unlike having a second personality. "Child, I dunno why the hell I'm talking about this with you. You should be prey to me, an easy target to take out and take from. But you..." she pauses while reaching out to tap a grimy fingertip against the center of Jackie's forehead, "..are reminding me of a forgotten life." Just in case she hasn't been cryptic enough thus far.
Jacqueline Jackie watches the expressions flit across Lockreed's face, her dark eyes wide and cautious. "I'm not a /child/. I'm 19," she says, with just a hint of indignance. But the feeling leaves her at that touch, and the words that accompany it, replaced by thoughtfulness. "You weren't always a raider, then," she says. Leave it to Jackie to land on the obvious conclusion. "What were you, before?"
She discretely turns a little, holding her pants in one hand and brushing at them to knock the dust out of them once more. She's not about to put them on 'til they're decidedly less gritty inside.
Lockreed "'Nineteen,'" Lockreed repeats in a low voice. "Just a grub. Resourceful..." she admits with another look to the slung shotgun, "but still a grub."

Her expression flatlines when the truth of her past is brought to the light. A new conflict begins, causing her to look around at the barren terrain once more. It's still just the two of them, and that flighty bird if it's still lingering about.

The straight point of her weapon is driven straight down into the cracked earth, freeing up both hands to rub at her eyes in frustration. For many people a mile long hike out here wouldn't be any problem, though over time it's been taking a toll on her. On the outside she seems okay enough, no injuries to speak of.

"Doesn't matter," she finally replies with a mutter. "We need to keep moving."
Jacqueline "I'm still dressing," Jackie points out, still dusting at her gecko-hide pants, her eyes mostly on them. "We've got a few minutes to talk. And maybe it's important... you'd be surprised what is, sometimes."
Lockreed Lockreed rolls her eyes before saying another word. At the end of their journey her stare falls right back upon Jackie and, to her surprise, Jackie seems sincere about what she's saying. No obvious trickery or sarcasm to be found.

"I come from the Bluewater tribe. Miles west of here. May their spirits rest easy."
Jacqueline As the silence stretches, the tech-girl shakes her pants out once more, then swipes her hands across the seat and sides of her panties, to rid them of dust. But Jackie's brushing hands go still at those last words. "Oh... oh, I'm sorry," she says softly. "What happened to them?"
Lockreed "What happens to any tribe?" Lockreed grunts. "Raiders. Torched the land, took in the few they wanted't lay claim to an' killed the rest. More disappeared after mine. Too fused out to remember any of it but when you need warriors it's what ya do. Betcha can't guess why I'm out here on my own. The strong beat out the weak, the story never changes."
Jacqueline "I think I can... but I won't. It's a bad enough subject now," Jackie replies, showing sensitivity even if she can't take the question back. "I'm sorry for bringing up bad memories."
She hesitates, then offers her pants to Lockreed. "Hold these for a moment? They'll be easier to get on if I take off my boots first."
Lockreed As soon as Jackie holds her pants out to Lockreed she's eyeing them over to gauge whether or not they might fit. When opportunity strikes, right? They probably won't fit her but they do offer a bit of leverage. She quickly rolls them into a ball and holds them up for Jackie to see. "Not. A. Word. About -any- of this. Got it? I don't need your damn pity, I want your silence sworn."

Also, they're wasting too much time out here. Out here there be deathclaws...

Jackie can take as much time as she wants to deal with a little sand. When she's ready to claim her pants back she'll be able to follow the footprints Lock leaves in the sand, because right now the ex-raider's turning and marching in the direction of El Dorado.
Jacqueline Jackie's eyes widen again as her pants are held for ransom! "I promise, I promise! I won't say a word to anyone!" she says, quickly crossing her heart with a finger. "Just don't run off with those!"
The words are wasted: The raider is already turning around and striding off. "Hey! I need those!" Jackie protests, hurrying after Lockreed, one hand keeping her shotgun from bashing against her side, the other reaching for the hand holding Jackie's pants.
Lockreed "You need to quit wasting time!" Lockreed counters as the better armed but pants-less gal gives chase. "It's -sand,- it's not going to hurt you. But -I- will." Still, a compromise could be made here. Ideally Jackie would be properly dressed before they reach the town gates, so some other form of motivation might be in order.

Lock points to the shotgun. "Hired muscle should be properly armed, yah? Hand it over, you get these back."
Jacqueline Light blue briefs do /not/ go well with gecko-hide, and running after a taller person doesn't make the contrast more dignified. Blushing and reaching for her purloined pants, Jackie hesitates again, hearing those words. "But everybody knows about my shotgun!" she protests. "It's helped out a lot the last three times I've gone out as part of a posse. If they see it in your hands..." she says, letting the phrase hang.
Lockreed Lockreed has Jacqueline at a disadvantage here and she knows it. It's not even her fault this time! The grin etched across her face proves how amusing it is to her, all the same. "How about that pack of yours, princess? Gotta be something interesting in there..." she teases while idly tossing the rolled up pants back and forth in her hands. "Would hate for you to forget who you're dealin' with." Wasteland scum, most likely.
Jacqueline Jackie finally huffs out an exasperated breath, putting her hands on her hips. "Look: I can't get you into the city in my underwear," she says reasonably. "They'll ask awkward questions and wonder why my new bodyguard was so little help that someone /stole my pants/. Just give me back my pants? Please?"
Lockreed This time Jackie probably won't get pushed over when the pants are flung back at her, aimed square at the chest. "Hurry it up before I lose my patience, gettin' real tired of the excuses. Makin' enough noise out here that everything with teeth's gonna be eyein' us both up for dinner."
Jacqueline Jackie gets her hands up in time to catch the pants in question, sighing in relief. "Thank youuuu~!" she says, her voice low but the gratitude real all the same. She has to scrunch up the pant legs and pull them laboriously over her boots one at a time, but shortly she's properly dressed for passing through El Dorado's gates.
Though she's not quite done. Reaching into the bag, she produces a 10mm pistol, offering it to Lockreed. "Consider this a loan 'til we get into town. It's not exactly supreme firepower, but it'll make you look appropriately fearsome," she says cheerfully. "Now let's go!"