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Lucette     After the events of altruism's failure and Zax becoming a real butt, Luce had to drag herself and her haul back home. It was following that event that she made her way into the social mecca of El Dorado's Gold Digger Saloon and found herself a table to settle at and make grump about. Her helmet's off and set on the table and the lass settles her forehead atop of it. She might look rather antisocial, maybe.
Saeko      Unaware of any killer robots or secret labratories, Saeko had instead been working on selling her wares. She was no merchant, and the prices the vendors were offering her for what she had were...less than what she needed. It was enough to have a frown on the wasteland Kunoichi's face as she stepped into the saloon, her pack slung over one shoulder while most of her attire and figure alike was cloaked by her...well, her cloak! Her eyes sweep over what other patrons might be gathered, leading for her to tilt her head with a note of curiousity.
Ashur Stripped of his armor, the toga-clad Ashur makes his way into the saloon. With his own injuries, and Kurokumo's, the group's vacation to New Rome has needed to be postponed once again; it's hardly right to make a pregnant woman endure the road when she should be resting. That unfortunate fact has his frustration levels rising, and when they crest his lips twist into a faint and feral snarl, nose wrinkling and teeth exposed.

It fades with a heavy sigh, and a bruised, battered arm brushing aside the heavy braids of his hair. They look messier than normal-- he needs to unbraid them, wash, and then re-braid on account of new growth.

"Woman," he says, one arm resting across his midsection, his white cloak brushing his heels as he walks toward Lucette. The toga, the cloak-- all so very white. The wrong color for the post-apocalypse. "Explain. Why was the machine so wrathful, and why did it know you?"
Lucette     Luce peeks her head up from her table towards the sound from a familiar enough voice.
    "I did promise to explain, didn't I." she murmurs as she straightens up on her seat, "It was upset because I lied to try and get it to spare everyone from being targeted by the place's defense." she answers, "My father is enclave, grandpa had a very high rank. Grandpa died when I was too young to remember when the base he was at was assaulted by the Brotherhood and destroyed. Dad was out with me on recon when it happened. And since then, until recently, he and I worked as couriers." she explains in brief.
Saeko The wounded toga-man's rather noticable storming in does have Saeko looking up curiously as she takes a seat for herself, tilting her head to the other side as she listens in. Wrathful machines, Enclave? It seemed that this was quite the story and Saeko gently lets her bag of belongings slip down to the ground while she leans forwards, dropping eaves in a fashion perhaps not as subtle as one might expect from the young woman.
Ashur Ashur levels his gaze down at Lucette for a long moment, golden and unblinking, as he scrutinizes her with an invasive intensity. His right arm lifts, exposing one of the legion of scars on his torso, to stroke his beard. At least, he hrms, and seems satisfied, finally blinking. "I understand," he rumbles, muscular arm falling back to his side. "I will not punish you; my suspicions of treachery were misplaced."

The oversized man pulls a chair out and eases himself upon it. The wood creaks and groans its disapproval, dragging along the floorboards as he shuffles it forward. The heavy rumpled layers of his toga and his (m)ass alike spill around it; why does no one design furniture in a proper size?

That being for men over three hundred pounds wearing impractically bulky and millenia out of fashion clothing.

"Are you curious, girl?" A look to Saeko now. She's vaguely familiar. "If you felt the ground shake the other day, it was from an explosion in Roswell."
Lucette     Luce sighs. "If I'd actually followed protocol, the computer would have tried to secure me somewhere and kill the rest of you guys, and called in reinforcements to pick me up, being the second worst scenario." she notes, "Anyway, we didn't lose anyone that day, I suppose it was not a total loss." she still seems entirely grump about the occurance though.
Saeko Saeko had actually seen Ashur before, albiet it was among others in battle and the man had been wearing armor, but then it was rather easy to keep track of the Legion people by their attire and mannerisims even if there seemed to be more of them than one would expect. New Rome had probably caught more than a few people off-guard with its very existance. His question and the glance towards Lucette are met with a light shrug of her shoulders before she speaks. "It is certainly quite the topic to overhear," she comments quietly. "The Enclave are not the most common of sights, and from the sounds of things this was quite the battle."
Ashur "The salvage was worth it," Ashur declares, voice a low growl-- whether anger or a constant sort of semi-agitated intensity is hard to say. "My Kumo was picking through some of the rubble and found one of the wrist computers the Vault Dwellers wear." He holds up his wrist and taps it with one scarred, blunt-tipped finger. His hands are very square and broad; pugilist hands. "She was delighted."

A shrug, the hands fall to the table's top as he leans in, looming so big he drinks up all the light. "Quite the battle. A small unit assembled to investigate the Roswell underground; for weeks now, travelers and heroes have been laying waste to its myriad dangers, leaving a trail of dead ghouls, Brotherhood, and Enclave in their wake. After destroying one such patrol of that last, a girl in our company discovered a hidden panel, opening a pathway leading to the bowels of the earth."