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Smash "What the fuck!" Smash, after half a dozen miles of trudging without saying a word, angrily plants his axe blade in the weed-ridden dirt that parallels the cracked road they have been following. He whirls around shouting at Splutch with his massive arms spreading wide. "Why the fuck did those muties hit that town the same day we did?" He counts on thick fingers as he lists names, "Cock-eyes, Padlock, Stain, and Scummy're all dead, and now we got no place to kick up our feet!" He points at Splutch; almost stabbing her with a finger, "You."
"You know we need?" He interrupts before she can answer. "Someplace to lie low awhile, save up some bullets, and gather a couple new lieutenants." He pauses for a few seconds and then asks, "Right?"
Splutch Splutch follows Smash down the road. She's idly glancing down at a nail with a half frown forming on her red lips. Her brow furrows as she shakes her head, eyes only moving from that nail when Smash's giant finger comes pointing at her. And even that is only for a moment. There's a loud sigh, and then a shrug, her arms falling idly to her sides. "Who knows? Anything is possible. Just poor luck and now we're pretty fucked. Gotta start all over again." Her pale eyes dart upward toward the man's blue eyes as he towers over her, but she doesn't at all seem afraid. There's a sort of knowing trust that he's not going to smash -her-, which is evident when she doesn't even flinch at that finger. She places a comparably tiny couple of fingers on his and presses them downward gently, patting them. "You are right, Smash." There's a smile, quick yet genuine, that grows out suddenly from the frown. "Now, where do you suppose we should go looking for some new lieutenants?"
Smash The effect that nonchalance has on Smash is obvious. His volume drops from roaring to loud, and he looks four percent less likely to punch a passerby, should one be encountered. "If we walk into a settlement and go, 'Give us all your shit!' we'll prob'ly get shot. Lots. Or the place's too small to have shit worth takin'." He moves to Splutch's side and wraps an arm that could crush her across her shoulders and pulls her tight against him like he is about to share an intimate secret. "So here's how I see it," he says in a 'whisper' that could be heard across a bar. "We pass through a few places actin' like we's mercs lookin' for work. Gives us a chance to case out the spots worth hittin', and it gives us a chance to recruit some new lieuts and meats on the sly." He winks with an abundance of obviousness. "Have a waterin' hole of our own in no time."
Splutch The tiniest of squishes from Smash could easily force the breath from her lungs and snap her like a twig. But Splutch's smile holds steady as Smash pulls her close sideways for the big reveal of his idea. Her tiny mouth quirks to the side and her eyes slide up to meet his, and there's a nod, red hair slipping over her shoulder and down her arm a bit as she tips her head upward. "That sounds like a very sound plan, Smash." The lower half of her not pinned arm gestures toward the path that they are currently on as she asks, "So where to now?" She smiles, eyes narrowing with intrigue.
Smash Oh how that question tickles him. It makes him look a little smug, because he has the answer already. "Well, Splutchies," it is definitely an imposter if Smash ever says her name right. "There's a place not too far from here called Jack's Town that Scummy used to live at. If ya ask me, anyone names a town after himself is a fuckin' tool, but 'parently there's a buncha mercs and thugs, and, maybe, just maybe," he looks down at her slyly, "a few of our kinda motherfuckers hangin' around. Worst case?" He shifts his arm off her shoulders-immediately standing a foot taller-and swings a big hand down to leave a red print on her ass. "We get fucked up and make a new plan." There is a touch of a sigh in his booming voice as he adds, "Our fuckedity dupity plans always turn out to be the best."
Splutch Smash's swat to her ass causes her to jolt forward a bit, but she reclaims her balance gracefully. There's a tiny laugh that escapes her, and then a small nod. "Well, yeah. The guy was probably either very lonely and the only inhabitant at some point, or he wanted to be a Sheriff when he grew up." A hand moves, running down her thigh a bit absently, possibly to scratch an itch. "Our plans almost never go accordingly. Who are we fooling? But improvising on the fly seems to serve us well every time, doesn't it?" Her head shakes a little bit, causing that red hair to flit over her shoulders again. "So, leaving now? Checking out the bars or whatever the fuck they have there in 'Jack's Town'?" She takes in a deep breath as she watches the giant man beside her. She's not even the size of his shadow.
Smash "There's a word Scummy taught me once when we were hittin' that lil place by Hope's Crossin'." Smash turns his head and spits after he says that name. "More like Mutie's Crossin'," he adds in a growl of pure contempt, but does not stay on the tangent any longer. "It's what ya call a bar when no one wants to start shit 'cause every son of a bitch in there's got at least three ways to kill someone within reach." He steps over to where he planted his axe and yanks it free, in a shower of dirt and roots, and lands it back across his shoulder in the same motion. He continues to walk in the direction they started in and says, "They call it a cantina. And wouldn't ya know? 'parently the thing's named after the same bag of dicks that the town is." He looks back at the only other known survivor of the Marauders. "It ain't much more down this road." Looking forward, it is two or so steps later that he adds, "...I think."
Splutch "I've heard of a cantina but I can't say that I've been to one." Splutch's lips are thin as she moves to follow her behemoth companion down the road. They've only moved a few steps, and in that time she manages to grab her gun and check to make sure that it's loaded. It is as she is re-holstering it that she nearly runs into Smash, not having been paying attention to his pace while he was leading them. "Hmm? Oh. Well, I trust that you know where we're going. But I gotta know why names of places out here are so /boring/. They don't even sound fun." There's a small frown for barely a moment before it is replaced with a smile and a light pat on Smash's lower back.
Smash "Tell ya what, Splutchy-pants." Smash might look like a lumberjack as he walks along the road with his axe on his shoulder if he was wearing more than a mix of leather armor pieces that made him look like he went shopping in a battlefield like some brigand and stole whatever fit him best off each corpse. Or if his axe was not eternally stained by blood. "When we get a place of our own, you can name it. Give it as fun ova name as ya want. I don't give a fuck as long as it ain't named after ya." He shakes his breath and lets out a mutter that is more grumble than words. "Fuckin' tool."  Apparently Jack will get no break from Smash for his naming scheme.
Splutch There is a sweet, satisfied smile that creeps onto Splutch's face when Smash offers to let her name their future abode. "Really? Oh, that would be fucking sweet." She moves up next to Smash and rests her head on his arm as they continue walking along the path. "You don't suppose we'll run into this 'Jack', do you? Probably not, huh?" There's a slight amount of bounce to her step, and suddenly she seems excited as her face lights up. "We're going to go scope it out, Smash. And we're going to find some new lieutenants to vet." Her voice is low but almost sing-song as they continue toward their destination.