ROBCO EVENT LOG V2.66
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Owner Pose
Iris Lark Iris and Vuk are sitting behind the counter in the brand new general store. So new in fact that there are very few items on the shelf. A slight breeze blows through the open doors of the shop and the midafternoon sun lights the building up far more than any lights could. Iris seems to be playing a game of 'hide from the blind man' while she sorts through her rucksack for things to sell.
Vuk Vuk has managed to plant him self -behind- the register, but his eyes are wrapped with a bandage. So, it is unlikely he knows what the buttons are. "Wait! I heard a mole rat! Right? That was a molerat?" he suddenly shouts out and points his shotgun at a random corner. Apparently, it's alright to let him have the automatic shotgun, but not the minigun. "No..no...that was the wind again wasn't it?"
Apostle     For those that have seen action astride Apostle, the hiss-click of her breathing aperatus has become a familiar thing; the rhythm is perfect, as though she were keeping time via the gentle in-and-out of its insistant suggestion of life. Her voice, as tinny as always, crackling and whining through the metallic vocalizer is perhaps less so, but able to cut through the general hustle of the city, the droning white noise of activity outside as she approaches with graceful step.
    "True happiness is to enjoy the present, without anxious dependence upon the future, not to amuse ourselves with either hopes or fears but to rest satisfied with what we have, which is sufficient, for he that is so wants nothing. The greatest blessings of mankind are within us and within our reach." A curious wisdom, a striking intellect, that obvious contempt. "A wise man is content with his lot, whatever it may be, without wishing for what he has not." She concludes evenly as she breezes through the doors to the shop, hood low to cover her eyes, the tattered tails of her scarf and sash dragging along the ground like some broken warpath that follows her wherever she might go.
    "I question the wisdom of this place. These people." She mutters, golden eyes just barely seen beneath the lip of her cowl to glare toward Iris behind the counter, flicking toward Vuk with something that borders -- only BORDERS -- on a vague interest, denied as it is.
    ... Hssk.
    Blink.
    Hssssk. Hssk. Hssk.
    "Betrayed and wronged in everything, Ill flee this bitter world where vice is king, and seek some spot unpeopled and apart where Ill be free to have an honest heart." Who she's talking to is hard to guess, but it seems just more of her inner monologue vomitted out like so much shit pie in a science lab.
    "I seek the one named Iris Lark, possessing of that which is rightfully mine, by deign of the office of the Mayor of El Dorado in payment of services rendered this city." Again she glances from Vuk to Iris and back again, "Issue unto me this righteous relic, and I shall be away."
Vector     "'Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine, a man's a man for a' that.'" quotes Vector as he paces in behind Apostle, his arms kept peacebound by the provident laws of good old El Dorado, well, as peacebound as one might get in this hostile land. He pauses after he enters, turning to look over his shoulder and then step aside to doubly ensure that nobody is behind him and nobody is going to get him in the back. So instead, he paces to the side a little, giving ample space for folk while at the same time keeping his back more comfortably aimed towards a wall.
    He reaches up, undoing one clasp of the veil that covers his face, tucking it back and to the side, and even gives his grime-covered face a prompt wipe with his sleeve, to give a proper appearance. "What the boss said." He seconds, "If you would be so kind. I would also like to know what you sell. This is a store. Yes?"
Iris Lark Iris gazes at Apostle with wide eyes, and she looks more than a little nervous while she does that. The monologue doesn't go unheard, in fact...the Healer is taking it all in and almost nodding along while she speaks. When Apostle asks for the relic, Iris digs into her ruck sack and holds up a gear shifter, her hand visibly trembling. "You mean this?" She asks quietly. She glances at Vector and clears her throat. "We uhm, have some weapons and armor..I'm selling a rather large flamethrower?" She doesn't sound sure, probably nerves.
Vuk Vuk shifts the shotgun aside when people are talking, Molerats don't talk. "But to survive the future, one must still look to it, as was written in the holy texts of Saint Sony." He murmurs and listens to every one speaking, unknown voices actually to him. "But, if a man should be merely content with his lot, then why do you seek which you have not, to further your own station in life? Are you not a whore to the material? Do you not lust after that which Panasonica makes upon The Great Assembly Lines?" He begins to question Apostle...two crazy religious nuts. One blind, one sounding like Lord Vader. "Hypocriscy..in this world..is a trade." He ends.
Lucky Stepping inside the general store is a familiar face to the Vault team and NCR - Lucky Strikes, desert ranger. The cast on his right arm is gone now along with the sling and he carries himself with a genial attitude and smile on his face.

Immediately upon stepping in, he stops, brow raising as he watches Apostle rant? Talk? Ramble? A visible shrug is given and he leans sideways to wave to Iris before spotting Vuk. "VUK!" He shouts, waving to him until dawning realization hits. His wave turns awkward before falling to his side and winces "Oh.. right, blind.." Then pause before he raises a finger "Uhm, why does the blind guy have a shotgun?"
Apostle     Hssk.
    Apostle just stands staring toward Iris as her hand comes forward, shaking as it does. She squints against her contempt, the accusation in her gaze of conspiracy as the woman's nerves rush to the fore. Her breath shallows, the convoluted pathways of her thoughts painted like a roadmap across her features as so silently she wonders why this person is so terribly nervous.
    Hssssssss...-kh-.
    "I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me and when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing."
    Fingers twitch at her sides like some spaghetti western cowboy just waiting for the clocktower to chime at high noon, grime and grease covered, calloused in ways that only mechanics fully know. One finally rises to rest weighty palm on top of the gear shift if only to halt its rampant chattering, to still the tremor on Iris' hand as she leans forward nearly in threat, possessing of menace, but harmless in practice.
    "Only I will remain."
    It's only then that she turns her attentions toward Vuk and his statements, eyes scanning over him as the vague recollection of evenings before reminds her of something, so obvious in her staring that it may even seem wanton, were he able to see her. Her body turns, her steps a steady drum against the floor, slow as it may be as she paces toward him.
    "That which I lust means nothing of material worth -- it is in knowing and in doing, not having. I am but a seeker, an apostle to extension in perpetuity..." She allows to him, and though it goes unseen beneath that mask, her upper lip curls in casual sneering. HSSK, a sharp breath comes in through the mask, billowing out in heated, sweet steam that smells richly of spices as it washes over him, the sharp, stark static of her vocaliser coming back into the fray suggesting she was about to say more.
    And then there's Lucky.
    How... lucky...
    Her head turns in painfully slow fashion, staring over her shoulder at the new arrival that so eagerly blurted out a name, her hand still rested on the gear shift that only now she pulls toward herself possessively.
    Hssk. Hssk. Hssk.
    Her head turns to Iris, "Your cooperation is witnessed, noted. As I promised," She withdraws a step or two, eyes never leaving those behind the desk, even as her hand is moving to a sack at her side to put the shifter away. "I shall leave your company now."
Vector     Vector's gaze turns from Vuk to Apostle, then back again. There's a grunt that escapes from the man's throat, as he witnesses the two technognostic religious folk begin to speak to one another in their own myriad and fantastical ways. This all goes a bit above Vectors head, it seems, as instead he looks at Lucky, and gives the man a small upwards nod of greeting and acknowledgment, and then begins a round - read: not getting inbetween Apostle and Vuk - to stand a bit closer towards the counter, if only to make it easier to see the merchandise if and when it may be displayed.
    "Flamethrower is no good. Too big. Something smaller, more rapid fire, that would be good. Would trade for that, if you have it. Or some light armor, too. I have a few minor things for trade, but I would know if you have anything that would be worth the trade to begin with."
Iris Lark Iris isn't going to move, she remembers very well what happens when you draw attention from a dangerous source. She only survived her past because she was good at being unseen, or not seen as a threat. She hands over the gear shift, and then her eyes sweep away from Apostle. Looking anywhere but at the woman. She finds an excuse to get to her feet and she slips from behind the counter, letting Vuk and Vector haggle as she walks towards the back door. She gazes out back and then dithers, she'll waste time until Apostle needs to speak to her again, or leaves. She prays for the latter.
Vuk Vuk is still listening to Apostle..but Lucky is yelling. "Because sound allows me to aim." He says, using his free hand to make a pistol at Lucky and go 'Bang!' before his attention is divided again. "I have several sub guns I can part with. What do you offer in trade, or caps?" He asks, ahh, the good ole scav is coming back out. Greedy he is. Greedy. "I do not use them any more. I find them...wanting." Well Vuk -did- go from a sub gun to a Minigun, of course other guns are wanting!
Lucky "Right. Pretty sure that only counts with hand grenades and nuclear bombs." Lucky replies calmly as he walks over to the counter. His eyes glance to Vector and Apostle briefly before trailing the retreating Iris. Hming quietly, the young ranger meanders on over to her, smiling and whispers gently "Everything okay?" He inquires, gazing out back.
Vector     With Iris promptly departing, Vector's attention turns to look back towards Apostle. He dips his head to the woman, before turning back towards Vuk once more. "I have leather. I have some boxing gloves that have been adapted. Got a pre-war pornographic magazine. I know some people were looking for those, for whatever reason. I also have caps for trading."
    There's a brief pause as the man takes into consideration what he'd actually /like/ for a weapon, rather than just 'Random SMG'. "Need generally inexpensive ammunition. Robust weapon that I don't need to constantly take apart due to the dirt. You got that, I got the things to trade for it, if you are looking for them. I can spare caps as well. I know nothing here is free, blind machine-man."
Apostle     She watches as Iris retreats from her, even with her steps having been taken back and away from the shopkeeper.
    Hssk. Static. The sound of metal gears grinding just off, enough to make one of her eyes half-close in tension.
    "A man that flies from his fear may find that he has only taken a short cut to meet it." Apostle offers in her most stirring of departures of wisdom. She looks to Vector as he begins his bartering, then to Vuk as he seems to desire to forgo further conversation with her in what is, very likely, the smartest thing anyone has ever done. Shoulders roll and her attention slides back toward Iris for one last prolonged, suspicious glares, her jaw working beneath her rebreather.
    "You'd better run," She murmurs, a hint of her true voice beyond the robotic twang.
    "Run..."
    She turns, offering Lucky little more than a passing, knowing glare before her direction is chosen.
    Hsssk.
    "...run..."
    She can be heard even as she walks toward and through the exit to the shop, leaving the others to their business -- apparently she has what she came for, and desires nothing more, loathes nothing more than the pedestrian company of the flesh of man.
Vuk Vuk will listen to Apostle's retreat. "Worshipper of the Ancient Knowledge. When I can see again, I wish to view your device." He suddenly says before using touch alone to locate the subgun in his pack and draw it out for Vector, sliding the mag out, and handing the unloaded weapon towards Vector's voice. ".45 Caliber, pre war. Standard tech, reliable. Two Hundred and fifty Caps." He says, apparently, not one to haggle!
Iris Lark Iris gazes at Lucky, and she opens her mouth to answer before Apostle comes close, telling her to run. Iris freezes, like a rabbit before a snake, and then suddenly she retreats out the door, not speaking to either person. In fact, she slams the door shut behind her so she can't be followed.
Vector     Vector's head swivels to regard Apostle, and then back towards Vuk once again. There's a noise from the man, a chuffing from his lungs. Apparently, he attempted a laugh. It was awful. He resigns himself to the fact that his humour is a terrible thing, and must be kept far away from everyone. Instead, he regards the unloaded weapon, eyebrows knitting together as he opens a pouch. There's a sigh, and he instead takes the pouch off himself, and sets it down before the blind Vuk - reaching out afterwards to take the weapon.
    "I would not cheat you, machine-man. Karma would come double against me, and I would not like that. Our trade is complete. I leave you with your friend." He remarks, as he cradles the SMG in his hands, turning to pace out after Apostle, and follow in her wake. "May your gears never grind, and may your joints never seize."
Vuk Vuk is so going to need to figure out this bizarre pair. "Machine man?" He asks..wondering if Iris let it leak out just what he is. No matter..no matter. "Keep that to your self Driver." he says, the tone is -quite- serious. "Many here might kill me for that past."
Vector     "It is a name I give to you. If it has more meaning to you, I respect that. Driver is a good title. I like that too. Many would kill you for the boots you wear, remember. Running from a past only makes you tired when it catches up to you. I know this well." comes Vectors response, as he carefully nudges open the door. "The boss might come and speak to you again, some time. She's wise. Wise enough to listen to." He holds the door open a brief moment longer.
    "Fair trails." And then he shuts the door, leaving the man sitting in the shop, alone now. Since, you know. Apostle scared off Iris.