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Katherine Caine It was hard to miss rumors of a pair of well-travelled individuals arriving in El Dorado in a car, it may have been easy to under other circumstances given the size of the small city but cars even if they existed around the town were a big deal.

Sure, a few people had their own that they kept in garages, most not even in real working condition, but even fewer of those people still had the skill and know-how to travel the wastelands with such a vehicle.

Unlike Mayor Solomon, Katherine was Mayor to make a difference in the City and the area and the arrival of Apostle and Vector could be a great boon to the city if they were real road warriors.

With little more than a rough description, Gale Caine had been sent off by her sister to find the two and see if they would be willing to come down to Town Hall to have a chat with the new Mayor.

Presumably, the intrepid trio has now made their way to the Town Hall where Katherine is sitting in her fancy new office behind a desk, the doors open to anyone who has something to bring to her attention because she really did give a shit.
Apostle     Paranoid.
    Something about this place makes Apostle very uncomfortable, and it's made abundantly clear by the cautious step and over-'curious' glance that's given anything that may stand out. Perhaps its the authority of office, or maybe it's something more visceral -- the oppression of wealth, the suggestion of superiority, the envy of worth.
    The wasteland had a way of doing that.
    She hasn't said much since the arrival of Gale, and the request of their company at Town Hall, the gentle in and out of her rebreather more punctuation than speech would have granted; it hisses and whirs, venting vaguely visible steam-like sighs, giving pause, and starting again. Golden eyes are like molten steel, narrowing sharply as she takes note of the brocade finery, the wrought-iron lamp, the general lack of rust or wear, and leather that lacks any patchwork pieces or sinew thread. She's in a strange new world now.
    She makes her way into the office proper, the crimson tails of her sash and scarf trailing like battlewake behind as she sways from one foot to the other in awkward stride before halting. Her eyes dart toward Vector, and then toward the desk where Katherine sits, one of her grease-and-rust stained gloved hands moving to pull the lip of her cowl firther over her features. There's a whine, a few rapid clicks, and then a tinny, canned voice that allows; "So much activity, so hurried the tide of change in the days since our arrival." Another pause as the breath releases, hesitates, and draws again in a mechanised gasp. "What is it that we, such simple wastelanders, might do for the office of the Mayor of El Dorado?"
Vector     While Apostle might feel very uncomfortable, Vector actually looks uncomfortable. Paranoia, as she had the internal line of thought, is encouraged by the wasteland, and stepping into a place that might even remotely touch upon the wealth and authority of an era prior to the great Fall is something that doesn't altogether seem comfortable to either of them, and Vector physically shows it in the way he keeps shifting his body to the side so he can peek behind himself.
    Gale's invitation was given the audiable grunt of agreement, and it's only when the man has reached nearer the office than the relative safety of 'get out of here' that he undoes the veil of his turban, raising up a sleeve to rub over his face in a mild attempt to remove some of the grime and sweat from his features - trying to make himself look presentable, at the very least.
    When they're at the desk, the man gives a few quick looks around, either trying to figure out how much everything must have cost, or checking to see if there was some quick way out if, by some miracle, things went ploin shaped. Remember, Vector, this is civilization. People don't just shoot you in civilization, they have the common decency to let you turn around first. He nods as Apostle speaks, and raises up his hand and points at her, for further emphasis.
Abigail Caine     "Well, I wouldn''t call eiter of you simple with a ride like that," Gale observes in her soft, carefully measured rough alto voice. She's a figure that would be hard to make much of. The Militia uniform is in evidence, as is her combat armour, all of which is dusty but carefully maintained. The oversized leather jacket has been patched a few times but gives the woman bulk she sorely needs thanks to her height of 5'1". In combat boots. Gale briefly doffed her broad-brimmed, improbably well cared for black hat long enough for Apostle and Vector to see her face. She's a youthful brunette who normally hides her wide blue eyes behind a pair of dark sunglasses. In other words, before the hat came off for a second it was impossible to even tell she was female.
    Gale picks her way easil through the street, her rifle on her back with the safety on, back exposed to show some measure of trust. Her gaze is always casting about to bely it, picking up on the people along the roads, anyone who is passing by. She tromps through a couple of puddles with slowing- and skirts one. "That's not water," she observes of the swirling mud as she passes.
    They reach the Town Hall and Gale lifts gloved hands to gesture around briskly, then pulls off those dark aviator's glasses to tuck them on the collar of her shirt. "Pretty sure they'd want your help, possibly as mechanics or for scavenging. Keeping a car running's damned near impossible. But I didn't actually ask, so..." She gives a shrug. "KC- I mean, Mayor Caine? I brought our guests. I'll grab a few drinks for people in the mean time..."
    Gale is quick enough to exit stage left and drop attention aggro. Drinks will be coming.
Katherine Caine Katherine's eyebrows raised at Gale calling her Mayor Caine, "Thanks Gale, you're a lifesaver." The pip-boy she was working on was set down on the desk, if anyone peeked over they could see that she was looking at a map of New Mexico and part of Mexico.

Standing up from the desk to greet the pair as her sister rushed off, Katherine stepped around from the desk to offer her hand to both of them, "Please, just call me Katherine. I was hoping to learn a little more about the both of you and see if you might be interested in helping out the City in exchange for helping to fix your car."
Apostle     "Velocity has treated us well -- more difficult for her to keep us alive, I wager, than it was for me to breathe a hum into her heart." Apostle allows softly, her voice barely given form so muffled as it is by the mask that she wears and the mechination that keeps it all working. "Yet, alas, her lurching final steps have lain her lifeless in the sands, and though so feverishly work my steady hands, she does little more than wheeze and moan, withered down to skin and bone. Blood comes at high price in these parts -- caps, scrap, scavenge like a carcass for the hounds, like a prisoner she is bound until we earn her bail."
    She stands there staring toward Gale with lifeless, yet seething glare that suggests she should know full well what it is that her rambling reverie might mean. There's no breath from her in this long, meaningful exchange, just the venting hiss and dead silence.
    The rebreather kicks back to the living, reeling in a sudden breath as her eyes dart toward Katherine when she makes mention of aid, her head tilted unnaturally, nearly painfully to one side -- owlish, twisting, eyes so bright against the charcoal blood that streaks down her cheeks in her blatant consideration and avid attention. Her hands come to rest before her in a steepling of her gritty, grimy fingers as the tips tap together, a long-stride step bringing her nearer the mayor in a sidling gait that's a little too smooth.
    "... So say we might be interested, consider that you've got my ear, dear Mayor. I ask once more, what is it that we," She sweeps a hand out toward Vector, her upper body bending in a shallow bow, though her head remains turned and her eyes still wide, "Simple wastelandersss," It drawls, "Can do for this city, mm? What, do tell, what task earns a life?"
Vector     "Saltpeter then." is Vector's observation on the swirling mud, although it's stated when they're inside the office - so it's horribly out of place and sudden. He works his jaw a moment, on the thought of valuable resources being literally pissed - HA - away. He nods at Apostle in her statement towards the vehicle that is now a resounding hunk of metal that hungers for scrap in order to run again.
    The offer of work for parts makes the man thin his lips a little bit, in thought, mostly. He raises his hand and points at Apostle again, as she's made the exact point that he would be making, and thus doesn't need to open his gob to spout out any more words. Instead, he moves on to the next point in his checklist.
    "She's the blackfingers." He states, "I just drive." This is offered, instead of a full bullet-pointed resume, you know, with comic sans font and bold and underline on everything. Better to know the skillsets first, right?
Abigail Caine     "Someone's been reading those books I like," Gale observes of Apostle as she's returning with the drinks in question. Sealed bottles for everyone! There's actual nuka-cola around here, folks. ...Notably Gale herself does not of anything in particular. She does sip from her canteen after she's passed everything out.
    "So... Your car died and you really waant to get it working and so you're willing to do some work for us as long as we can tell you what it's going to be," Gale translates casually, squinting. She finally reaches up and removes her hat. from her head so that she is properly visible again. "And... Sorry, KC. Figured I should get on the hype train after the big election. Power trip, right." That is stated flatly, along with a wry smile. 'Mayor Caine' is apparently no longer Katherine's title at the moment.
    Gale seems content to watch quietly, the heavily armed miniature Militia woman standing off to the side of the desk with her... Water? It's probably water. Warm too, given it's been in a canteen in the sun.
Katherine Caine "Velocity? Nice name for a car." At least Katherine assumed it was a car, but she had come across some unique religions out in the Post-Apocalyptic Wasteland, a Cult of Speed would not be that strange given people worshipped radiation.

"Thanks, Gale." Katherine set the Nuka-Cola down on her desk before gesturing towards a pair of seats and sitting down in her own, "Long version of the story is, there's some kind of mutant Horde in the South. We first heard about them three months ago, when a man named Knight Caldwell, a Brotherhood soldier arrived in El Dorado on death's door."

The Nuka Cola was opened and Katherine took a sip before continuing, "We sent a Militia Patrol on horseback to investigate two months ago and they did come back, but they weren't human anymore. They were something else. We've been seeing more and more of these 'centaurs' roaming into New Mexico since, it's a sure sign whatever is coming this way, is getting closer."

The Pip-Boy was slid over the table a little to show a map of the Southern United States and Mexico, although it did seem to have a great deal of updated information about the North and North-West as well, "Caldwell and his people were investigating some kind of research facility that belonged to the Enclave, best we can tell. It might hold the key to stopping all of this or it might be a huge waste of time. It will take a good team with vehicles to make it there and through whatever might be in the way. The pair of you, you look like the kind of people who would be right at home with something like that and you have a vehicle. Still interested?"
Apostle     She doesn't seem to understand what Gale means about the books.
    She doesn't even turn to look at the woman as she speaks, nor does a hand reach for the drink that is so generously offered to her, so focused is she upon the mayor that has hinted at aid in getting her car up and running again. Her shoulders do, however, begin ever so slowly, but equally so obviously tense as Gale's words continue on like whitenoise in the background, but without the soothing drowning of outside influence. Her head, still tilted, now also finally turns to look over that slow-rising shoulder toward the now-hatless Gale, the lower part of her face covered by the encroaching horizon of her shoulder as her head sinks down to glare back at her with no small measure of immediate displeasure.
    Hssssk. ... Hsssk. Hssk. ...
    "In that moment," She begins, as under-her-breath as her state allows, "As he saw and smelled how irresistible its effect was and how with lightning speed it spread and made captives of the people all around him -- in that moment his whole disgust for humankind rose up again within him and completely soured his triumph," Hssk. Hssk. Hsssss... blink. "So that he felt not only no joy, but not even the least bit of satisfaction." She doesn't actually seem to be talking TO Gale, but rather herself ABOUT her. Her brows lower into a knitting crease, as though lost in deep consideration of the woman that's really done nothing to her. "People diminish me; the longer I sit and listen to them, the more empty I feel... and so do I beg we make this short, as I've not much left in the tank."
    It's about then that her attentions idly edge their way back to Katherine, her inability to establish an -inner- monologue already long forgotten by her answer-seeking mind. Her hands move from their steepling to instead interlace her fingers without lowering her hands, giving her a nearly pleading image -- either that, or she's taken up prayer at a most inopportune time. She listens with rapt attention as soon as word of the Brotherhood makes its way into the conversation, though the switch in demeanor might be noted only by the most perceptive. "Stop, or control? Investigation -- knowledge -- is never a waste of time, not to those that understand the value of knowing. I would know it all, but offer you truths in a world comprised of pleasantries and the lies they spawn:" She straightens just slightly in her posture, her head no longer tilted at such an extreme angle. "My secrets are mine. If the machines see fit to whisper to me in confidence, it remains unbroken until recompense is adequate. The centaurs, all that might pertain, you are paying in full and so willingly I will share that which I learn. The rest, what I might know once there, what all these eyes of mine see..." She trails off there, a brow quirking as though in question.
Vector     The Nuka-Cola is given an investigatory look over, before he then rests his palm and twists the cap off, staring at it for a second before shoving it into his pocket. He looks at the seat, then - more interested - in the Pip-Boy in depth, staring at the map. He raises the drink to his lips, taking more than a fair gulp of the liquid within.
    "Centaurs." He states, a word that means almost nothing to the man as he takes another swig. "Another mutant thing." He assumes. Again, that offering gesture towards Apostle, who speaks a little more eloquently than the man. He puts his thumb over the lid of the bottle of nuka-cola.
    "She talks about loot rights. Important things. We're still interested. Be good to be outside again." He seems to like the more.. Direct statements in stark opposite to his fellow scavengers eloquent and fluid style of conversation. He offers what one might assume is a smile, but it's a bit of a grimace on a sun-baked face.
Abigail Caine     "...Okay," Gale responds to Apostle slowly, both of her brows lofting as she studies the other woman for a long moment. Gale clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth and slowly shakes herhead but rather than shifting her expression from relative calm she just takes a deep breath and screws the cap back into place on the canteen she's been turning over and over in her fingers. There are brief nods as Katherine mentions centaurs and other mutants but it isn't anything that appears to concern her too much.
    Vector gets a somewhat more welcoming response. His words draw a nod, even while Gale squints and looks around the room and ten up and down the two visitors at the same time. Then she shrugs. "Outside is good. Loot is also good. I'll probably come along, seeing as ya'll can probably use the guns." She sniffs once and frowns. Gale doesn't really smile. Very neutral, really. Her best behaviour.
Katherine Caine "I'm not interested in controlling these abominations, they need to be destroyed." Katherine replied as she tried to get a good read on Apostle and Vector, who definitely ranked as among the most unique duos she had come across in her travels, "As far as loot and salvaging goes, the general rule of thumb around here is you take what you can carry and you sort out the rest with anyone else after."

The Nuka Cola was fingered gently in a circular motion before she said with a smile, "As you put it, the actual payment is a life. I'll see to it that you have the means to repair your vehicle and I'll expect you to keep the cars running and you to keep the convoy on track and help make sure as many people as possible make it back." There was hope and there was blind optimism, she knew it would be a journey not everyone would return from.

"I've never seen a Road Warrior, but by the sounds of it, that's you. It will be at least a month I imagine before all the preparations are made, should give you both enough time to get your car running while the details are sorted out." A drink of the nuka cola was taken again and not setting it down she said without
Apostle     "... Acceptable."
    It's the most straight-forward thing Apostle has ever said. "We will begin preparations. I will send a courier with a list of all that which is necessary for Velocity's recouperation." She pauses then, staring vacantly as though someone had thrown a switch and she'd turned off. Even the gentle hiss of her rebreather has halted in her expressionless consideration of events.
    "... she will need paint."
    An odd 'request', but there you have it. She turns then, slinking about like some demented little weasel off to find the nearest coop, pausing as she reaches the door. "A pleasure doing business with you, Mayor of El Dorado." She nods shallowly, quickly, hands still clasped infront of her. She's uncomfortably near to Gale at this juncture, her pause statuesque in virtue, poised as she is in suspension. To the previously hatted and bespectacled woman that had brought them here she offers simply:
    "We ought to punish pitilessly that shameful pretence of friendly intercourse. I like a man to be a man, and to show on all occasions the bottom of his heart in his discourse. Let that be the thing to speak, and never let our feelings be beneath vain compliments."
    She isn't even looking at her at this point, but there is a soft sniff. "Please remember the paint. Imperial red. It must be this." She begins pacing out toward the open and waiting world. "Red is the fastest..." She murmurs in departure.
Vector "Come along. Bring guns. Works fine for me." is what Vector offers to Gale. The grimace-smile fades away after the deal is done. At least in his mind. He raises his nuka-cola and drains it before anyone can think to take it away from his grubby fingers. His adams apple visibly bobs as he gulps down the liquid, lowering it to give a small burp with, you know, the fizziness of it all. The bottle is also sequestered into the folds of his clothing - glass is useful after all - and he offers a nod.
    "Red ones go faster." He states in agreement, before he turns sideways, so he offers his torso towards Gale and Katherine. "A month. That works. We will be around. Sometimes in. Sometimes out." His lips twitch. "If you want it dead. It's dead. You're paying." It's then that the man shifts his way out, with some remnant degree of paranoia about not showing his back. "See you later, Mayor."
Abigail Caine     "See you later." Gale mouths "red ones go faster?" and looks to Katherine then before shrugging her shoulders. The woman breathes a quiet sigh and then turns slightly to survey the room at large. She retrieves her hat and her sunglasses both, putting them on once more before taking a deep breath. "Need to find a bandanna for all the dust," she observes. Because then none of her skin will show at all. That's the dream, right? "Alright," the woman continues. "Now to figure out the paint. Imperial red..." With that musing going she has a wave for both of the visitors and is turning to survey the office. "Well, we can make paint at least." And Gale is off to do whatever Gales do. Something involving glowering, no doubt.