ROBCO EVENT LOG V2.66
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Devlin     Once again the now battered, bruised and now lacerated man sat at the back of the bar, his legs gaped apart and a perpetual snarl fixed onto his lips. In front of him and to the side was a wide but short glass, filled to about a third of a clear liquid but those who drifted close could easily tell it wasn't water this time. Rather than in his holster or in the built in holster of the Vaultsuit, a Beretta was set onto the table beside the glass, keeping within reach of the man's numbing fingers.

    Devlin was the recently hired, and only security the Cantina had hired so far though his injuries weren't from the job but gained on his other tasks around the wasteland. Luckily for those within the Cantina, the drinking man didn't drink deeply, bringing the glass up to his lips would only pour out little more than a lip full onto his tongue before setting it back down. The slow nursing was going on for the better part of an hour and those who did murmur, mentioned hearing about embarrassing wounds due to bandaging being visible at some angles of his damaged clothing.
Krysta      Krysta walked into the bar wearing a pair of jeans and a button-up shirt. The woman was small and that made the rifle she carried look even bigger. But she asked for some nuka cola and turned to peer at the patrons as she waited for it. She spotted Devlin, one of the few people in the bar at that point, nursing his drink. The woman's violet eyes watched him for a long moment, silent and unblinking. Then the cola was delivered and she took it before making her way over to Devlin's table. She dropped a handful of caps on the table beside him then took a seat.
Devlin     "Seems you got away unscathed after all.." is said in a grumbled tone, but he didn't take another sip. Setting down the glass, Devlin leaves his hand to rest between the glass and the pistol he left exposed. Shifting his gaze to the side, pale blue eyes shimmer at times to a more violet tone under his lidding eyes. "Though you're spending your caps on soda after walking around half exposed without much body armor?" Tilting his head slightly, Devlin offers the visitor an ear to listen to her more clearly once she settled down.

    Watching the arm that was in a sling would reveal the impatient nature of the wounded arm, it was itching to grasp onto something from how steadily his thumb moved though his outstretched hand was rather still comparatively. Lifting a hand, Devlin motions over towards Chuck, the bartender, motioning him closer but then forming a number count three times, two, one, three before resting his hand again. Nodding with a tired expression, the bartender would be around to deliver a plate of tries meats, some were likely Gecko, though what was molerat was left to be unquestioned.
Krysta      Krysta tilted her head faintly at the man before her. She could tell he wasn't feeling too great but she shook her head slowly, sipping her soda as the bartender brought the meats. She glanced down at her armor, curious why he would consider her half exposed. "I am and was properly covered, Mr. Devlin. And what is wrong with soda? It will not lower my ability as a fighter." She reached into a pocket and pulled out a small packet, sliding it over toward him. Inside were about 10 medium sized white pills. "I thought you could use some extra help. Lizard bites carry a high risk of infection."
Devlin     Shifting his gaze towards Krysta, Devlin began to eye her questioningly. It would be several long second before he breaks his gaze and looks down briefly towards the table and then back up to her own. "Mysterious white pills, from a mysterious woman on a bland day? I'm starting to wonder what the third mystery will be.. Threes and all" is said somewhat bitterly though a faint smirk at the corner of his lips hinted something more.

    Looking away from the pills or the woman, Devlin turns his gaze towards the bar. Shifting his arm on the table, he begins to use his thumb to gently tap against the glass, his nail was beginning to grow excessively long since he was largely trapped to only using one hand for many without without pain. "What's the cost? There's always a cost, even if it isn't up front, sometimes not even mused of in secret places, on the darkest nights.. but it's there."
Krysta      Krysta stared at Devlin for a time as though he made no sense. At all. His comment about mysteries actually visibly confused the woman. But she set that aside as he asked about prices. She shook her head and glanced at his thumb on that glass. "I suppose if you'd like to share some information that would be fine. Really, though, I owed it to you."
Devlin     Closing his eyes fully, Devlin slips his hand away from the glass and over towards the offered pills to shift the packaging some. "Depends on what information, how many drunks walk by, how many raiders don't shave their asses but leave them hanging out in the bar.." Shrugging his shoulders gently, he opens his eyes and settle them back onto Krysta's, though his words were teasing, a tired and slightly buzzed expression was on his eyes, not a playful one, though they were focusing onto her. "What would you like to know, and about whom?"
Krysta      Krysta watched him as if bored as he rambled. She looked like she'd checked out mentally for a bit then shrugged, matching his serious expression. "Ideally, Enclave locations. But I'd settle for their little Gunner pets camps too. Whatever works. But like I said I owed you as well. I should have shot that thing off of you."
Devlin     At the name 'Enclave' a glare cut through the alcoholic haze and herbs he was already taking to limit his pain levels. Devlin bitterly answered, "Thirty five miles off the coast of new California's central strike site that is still glowing with radiation.." Just the one statement said quite easily before he closes his eyes and settles back into his seat. "Well, that's where the rumors say it is," is soon said, trying to downplay his last statement. Moving his hand away from the pills, he returns it to the glass he had but he doesn't lift it. "Why? Why do you want to go head first into a suicide march?"
Krysta      Krysta's eyes narrowed for but a second, though it was long enough for him to know she was suspicious of something he had said, but she did not comment on it. Not right then. "Suicide? Hardly." She sipped her cola, still watching him closely. "I'm looking to rise in the ranks. What better way than to return with a few Enclave heads? Or even those of their friends. I'd be happy with capturing one. I can get them to talk."
Devlin     "It won't work.." is said without looking. Devlin loops his fingers around his glass and lifts it, but not yet to his lips, focusing on feeling the weight of it. "The heads of Enclave will just bring those left alive on a war path, anyways.. there's no bounty on them. They wouldn't even pay mercs right now to cull the expedition teams if we ran into them." Bringing the glass to his lips at last he takes a small amount and savors it, though he didn't seem to desire the taste itself, just the feeling it gave him.
Krysta      Krysta raised an eyebrow. "Oh, it won't hmm? So you know something about breaking people, Mr. Devlin?" She was watching him like a hawk, those violet eyes piercing. "Or do you mean giving my officers information won't get me rank?" Either way, she sipped her cola, still watching him for a long moment. Finally, she set her drink down and stole a bit of the gecko meat. "Like I said, I should have shot that thing off of you. But to be quite frank, that Lynette girl was not going to last as long as you. You? You might have a scar. She might have died."
Devlin     "Death raises awareness, raised awareness increases review, increased review will cause a reassessment of El Dorado. A reassessment will likely cause them to surge again.." Setting down the drink, Devlin bring his hand up to his right eye, using a curled knuckle to gently massage at his right eye before shaking his head gently from side to side, attempting to clear it. "Fucking hell.." Bringing his palm back, he mildly thuds his own temple twice, trying to force himself to focus steadily once again. "Information needs to be done in ways that don't alarm nor upset the upper levels of the Gunners and never raise the brow or ire of the Enclave forces. If it is even suspected, then I think your bosses will be very cross with you."
Krysta      Krysta stared at him as he rambled. The corner of her lip curled in the faintest of smirks as he showed he knew quite a bit, but it also told him that she knew more than she was saying too. She was familiar enough with Enclave and Gunner workings that the ay their command structure worked did not surprise her in the least. "Perhaps. And perhaps not. I am not as defenseless as you might think."
Devlin     "Who cares about how strong you are, how smart you are, how deadly you are when you aren't the whole town? Eh?" Opening his eyes, an agitated look fills Devlin's eyes while he cuts his eyes to the side, glaring at her. "Think before you act. The less you think about the others, the more often their blood will be on -you- hands." Scoffing, he closes his eyes again, not wanting to look across at Krysta anymore, not seeming interested in picking up the pills laid out for him. "Why don't you try something else before I wise up and not tell you anything?"
Krysta      Krysta raised an eyebrow and leaned back in her chair, sipping her cola as she watched him with those piercing violet eyes. Finally, she sat the drink down. "Mr. Devlin, I am not stupid enough to bring the Enclave bearing down on this town. But I have my ways of getting information. Ways that do not get me anywhere near the Enclave or Gunner's higher echelons. I never asked you to come with me. I just asked for a direction. I can go on my own."
Devlin     "You asked me for information 'To bring back heads'," is said rather sharply, the last few works said with emphasis. Turning from facing the door, Devlin, for the first time, looks towards Krysta straight on, not with a turned head or from a side view. Resting his arm onto the table, his eyes were slowly degrading under the drink's effect, but the numbness left him more careless about his injuries. "You can say you are good at getting information from the lower ranks, yet you are foolish enough to think if High Command would ever give actual intel to.." Closing his eyes, Devlin catches himself and takes in a deep breath suddenly before letting it out slowly, "Those you can flip and those someone like you could get drunk aren't the ones this settlement cares about. The regional commanders and those given recovery clearance are, they will not be the ones you simply seek, they seek you, if you are quality enough." While he attempted to be vague, Krysta could pick out that Devlin was not only telling the truth to the best that he knew, but he wasn't secure in telling why he knew what he did.
Krysta      Krysta stared straight into his eyes as he sat up, breaking his vague streak with some very specific information. She did not give away anything about her side except that a small smile touched her lips after he slipped a bit too much. She had him. but then rather than threaten him or press the issue she slid the pills back to his side of the table and dropped a few more caps. "See? Transaction complete. That wasn't so hard was it, Mr. Devlin?" Now the question was what information had she gotten from him? He had not given her locations or even a vague direction and yet she had gotten information out of him? What just happened??
Devlin     Devlin simply sat there a few moments without moving anything other than his brow which was tightly knit. Forcing his brain to work through the fog, he attempts to retrace all of his words, examining them though with how long he has spent nursing drink after drink.. it was more than just a small task. "Not a location.. a person? No.. no names." Tilting his head to the side, he moves his good arm to rest its elbow onto the table while his palm cradled his head, his fingers scratching at his scalp stiffly. Krysta could visibly see how hard the man was trying to fight his own stupor though the more he fought without eating the more rapidly he fell deeper into it, it would also appear that he even forgot she was still at the table, let alone watching him.
Krysta      Krysta simply sat there watching the man. It had not really been a fair 'fight' but she'd gotten information. It might not have been a proper location but.. She was certain that she could get more from him eventually. Poor guy... she sat forward after sipping her cola and slid it toward the man. She tried covering his hand with her in a mock flirt. Her other hand slid over carefully as she leaned in toward him, her small bust hinted at under her shirt. Her voice came out low, hardly audible. "Now you see, if you have secrets you should not get drunk and mix it with pain killers." And then, using her position she tried to swipe his pistol just in case he decided to use it...
Devlin     While he was drunk, he wasn't that far gone. He had grown used to Lynnette flirting with him in a similar manor but something felt.. off, when he noticed where her other hand had moved. Lowering his own hand, Devlin attempts to swat at his pistol but it was too late, it slipped just out of his grasp. The sudden movement on the other hand causes the man to loose his balance, forcing him to slam his elbow onto the table to keep balance while hissing.. Krysta would be able to see instinct overruled logic, he at first also used his left arm to brace himself, jostling the fracture. "Leave.. Me.. Alone.." is all he would seeth, but she could see he had managed to drink away his pain, another thing she would be able to notice.. he was far from used to ingesting that much, he would need sometime to sober up to walk home on his own to sleep it off
Krysta      Krysta sat back with the beretta in hand, peering at the pistol even as Devlin told her to leave him alone. She popped out the mag, looked at the ammunition, then popped it back in and peered down the sights. A thorough examination. With a heavy sigh, she stood up and chambered a round with one hand. Then she bent, careful of his sore arm.
    
     First she took his drink and downed it entirely. Then she took a bit of jerky and stuck it in her mouth. Bending, she took a breath and slipped under his good arm. That pistol was stuck under the other arm near his ribs. "Come on, Devlin. You're drunk and we don't need to do this here yes?"
Alpha     What a scene to walk into. Alpha, escorting Lyn grandly through.. well.. the Ashur hole because it didn't have a door to deal with, stops next to her at spotting Devlin and Krysta.. doing.. what? "Huh." Oh such deep words there. Alpha glances to Lyn, shrugs and looks over at the other two. "Hey.. what ya'll up to?"
Lynnette She'd squeeze his hand gently as they walked in and then blinked when she saw....god knows what. Her green eyes just blinked as she stared at what was going on but she just pointed to the basement door. "I'm just going to leave them....I mean....the place is already beat up..." Looking to Alpha she'd chuckle a bit. "Mind uh....helping me move some boxes downstairs since I'm injure...."
Devlin     For all of his fussing, once Krysta had an arm around Devlin and helping him up, he didn't have much physical fight left, verbally how ever. "That's mine.. I didn't give it to you on loan.." Muttering to himself, he shifts his head away from the woman to look up at the pair in front of them and noticed not only the Sheriff but also his boss. Sighing, Krysta could feel his weight sag now, something just took the wind out of his sails. "F.. fine.. Towards the Culda.." Closing his eyes, his feet try to walk by, but he was using her now was a supporting wall to not fall flat on his face. "..Still my gun.."
Krysta      Krysta had the man up and half over one shoulder and was ignoring him in general as Lynn and Alpha walked in. Krysta looked up at Alpha and acted like she was trying to shUffle Devlin around. "Sorry, can't salute you, sir. I am merely taking my drunk friend home. He has had a rough day."
Alpha     Alpha looks between them, raising a brow, then just.. shakes his head. "Make sure ta do all the things I'd do ta her, Devlin. She looks worth it." He'd laughs and looks to Lyn then, grinning and nodding her way. "Sure thing.. I can move some boxes.." Alpha waves off the offer of salute. "Bah.. I'm a sheriff, not militia. dun gotta sir or nothin. Just Alpha, k?" WIth that last bit, he'd go to escort Lyn downstairs. "See ya.. and dun lemme hear 'bout no shootin tomorrow.."
Lynnette Raising her brow she would look between the too and then frowned. "....where does he live then.....?" Feeling Alpha tugging at her she'd then widen her eyes at his comment about what he'd do to her. Clearing her throat, there was a faint flush on her cheeks before looked to Krysta. "....he better be there too....when I go look for him tomorrow." That brow would raise up and then turned back to Alpha. "Yeah....boxes into that other room down there...." Winking she'd then sigh as she took another glance at Devlin and then to the woman. "....and if not....I'm coming to find you." And with that she smiled brightly. "Have fun!"
Devlin     Out of all the muttering that Devlin offers, in his devolving state as anger didn't take root, was "...don got ..cuffs.." Soon after that murmur, the just chokingly choffs, giving trying to give out a whity resply. Starting to press against Krysta he grunts and takes a step, "Dis way..." is murmured, attempting to head out of the large Ashur walkway.
Krysta      Krysta fed oddly at Alpha's comment, but the flush did not appear appropriate to her expression. That is to say, she looked bored as hell. But flushed.
     Devlin's little smart assed comment about cuffs got a strained grin from the woman and a growled. "I will shoot you." But then she was helping him to leave the bar, heading for where she assumed his home was..
Devlin     "..My own gun?" Closing his eyes, Devlin mutters 'bitch..' under his breath, but his volume control was questionable. Continuing to try and move towards, he was trying to go to his home.. or where he thought he had his home, the town was trying to wiggle now, he liked roads that didn't tilt and they were starting to look less familiar in the darkness. "..Can ya make'em settle? Tryin ta read.."
Krysta      "Yes, Mr. Devlin. Your own gun." But then he was clearly drunk off his ass. And so she chuckled and patted his head. "Oh just close your eyes I know how to get there." And there was no lie in her voice. She knew how to get there. Easy peasy. Except when they approached a light and Krysta kicked the door in an odd pattern. Someone opened the door and growled at her demanding to know what the fuck she wanted and she tossed a small bag at the guy. "Get the fuck out of my way." Her demeanor had changed just a bit, just enough that the guy chuckled and let them in. In fact, he even helped her move Devlin ... down the hall and into a room with a bed. The two dumped him on the bed and Krysta turned to the guy. "Did I say I wanted an audience? Leave.." The guy snickered but did just that. And now Krysta was looking down at Devlin, still holding his pistol, those violet eyes narrowing slightly. She suddenly reached down and started patting around his waist and hips looking for hat laser pistol she knew damn well he had....
Devlin     In his near dream haze, Devlin could feel something was off and once Krysta has her hands along his hips, he moved his hand quickly, grasping at his holster. His fingers slip around the pistol but he fails to even pull it from it's holster, rather it jammed it farther inside. Growling, the man began to open his mouth slightly before grunting in pain and seething..

    Krysta would be able to tell exactly what Devlin was doing, he was starting to purposefully jar his arm and bite down onto his tongue.. Pain. The mercenary sensed his danger of not only being partially disarmed but now completely robbed before inevitably killed! Given the extent he was starting to go, he wouldn't be long before he has a few brief moments of clarity, though between the pain and the natural rush fading, he would crash hard.
Krysta      Krysta watched him as he fumbled, noted where that pistol was and made a grab for it, only for him to manage to block her. She frowned then lifted a brow. She saw the pain he was causing himself in an effort to snap out of it.... And she turned cold. Reaching down she would crack him across the cheek. "Stop harming yourself, Devlin. I'm not going to kill you. But I won't have you shooting me either."
Devlin     "Mine.." is growled out, in an attempt to intimidate her in his prone.. drunken.. wounded.. half disarmed state. Devlin manages to secure a grip onto the laser pistol but.. he didn't draw it, only murmuring, "Not losing.. again.." Simply holding onto the weapon securely had a calming effect, something other than the pain he visibly felt, likely a unsaid memory. With closed eyes, he settles to mild grumbles, a faint fuss but he was becoming still, though if Krysta examined the man she would find the pistol wasn't the only other weapon he had on him, but also a knife in his inner vestment, and ammunition in his jumpsuit.
Krysta      Krysta narrowed her eyes but then patted his hand gently and pulled a sheet up to cover him. Then she took a seat, holding her rifle across her lap. She would wait for him to wake up. She did not need the sleep. And she would indeed sit there all night. If at any time he let go of that pistol she would try to swipe it again but otherwise, she left him to sleep.
    
     When he woke the next morning he would find her sitting there with her rifle, not his beretta, pointed right at his head.
Devlin     Waking up choking on his own drool, Devlin made the mistake of starting to sit up suddenly causing his pain to remind him of his condition, though it has been worse.. His head was throbbing, and he felt sick to his stomach. Looking at his waist, he would notice that he was fully dressed.. hell his boots were still on and his hand was.. Furling his brow, Devlin tries to remember the previous night but only got a throbbing ache at first until he noticed something shifting from the corner of his eye which causes him to pause. Staying still, he glances over to Krysta, then to the gun, her rifle, then back to the woman. "...what ya want?"
Krysta      Krysta sat still as Devlin began to stir. She did not look like she'd been fatigued at all by the night's vigil, and while her rifle was actively pointed at Devlin's head, she also had his pistol in hand. She could see the hangover in his eyes, though and nodded toward a glass of water on the bedstand. "Drink something before you dehydrate further, Mr. Devlin." Her voice was calm and firm, business-like. What she would not allow was any more pain killers or alcohol. Let him feel that pain for a bit. "And do not be foolish. I have not killed you yet. Do not test me."
Devlin     "'Yet'.. means ya got use for me.." Shifting his gaze from Krysta, Devlin looks from one side to another, only moving his eyes at first before looking towards Krysta. "Where..?" is the only word spoken in question though looking at him now, even compared to last night, showed how haggard he was. He once combed hair was frazzled and almost matted to one side from how he slept, his arm wrapping was color tinged from lack of changing along with the stains of the Gecko, the sheets in turn were soiled from his boots.. Most of all, Devlin's hips shifts every so often when under the leveling of the rifle and his side arm, there was a matter growing more important than a gun at his face..
Krysta      Krysta stared at him coldly for a long moment as he shifted a bit. He looked uncomfortable and she raised an eyebrow as she noted the way his hips moved. Slowly a smirk broke out across her face making her look like a snake seeing a mouse. "If you need to take care of something it will cost you. That good arm of yours... reach up and grab ahold of the bedpost. If you let go will empty both my rifle /and/ your pistol into your face. Do you understand me?"
Devlin     "Wanna hold Johnnie without even a date?" is scoffed, though Devlin seemed personally torn between a building pressure and humiliation. Looking around the room fleetingly, he then looks towards her, more to the point her fingers.. He was checking if they were on the trigger or off to the side. "What do you want, or is helpin a man piss what you really want in life?" Unlike the mocking question at first, his second was dry as the throbbing in his head made it difficult to joke. While he spoke, Krysta would be able to watch his lower hand, while it was loose in his sleep, while awake it was easy to see he was poised to grip it quickly, likely under the advice of his pipboy.
Krysta      Krysta smirked faintly, unphased by the dig. She shook her head. "I don't. But I'm not letting you up without me taking that laser pistol. I like my insides uncooked. Now. Grab the bed and be thankful I did not simply bind both of your wrists up there while you were sleeping." She would wait for him to comply. He would see that her finger was on the trigger of her rifle while she displayed trigger discipline with his pistol. She had every intention of unloading that rifle into his skull if he moved wrong. "I want to chat but I understand you had a rough night. If you don't want me to continue being nice I can change my approach."
Devlin     "Heads killin me, I gotta piss, not sure where I am.." A soft smile begins to spread across Devlin's lips as he looks across towards Krysta, adding "..and my trigger finger's getting itchy. If you want this pistol disarmed, then I can do that. If ya want me to disarm and prostate myself to ya in 'hope' you don't shoot when when bored later.. no chance." Shifting his thumb, he begins to steadily massage a circle along the grip of his pistol as he looks Krysta in the eyes, trying to make sure where she was actively looking. "Now, tell me.. What do you want.. I really.. really need to piss.."
Krysta      Krysta simply looked a the man disapprovingly. "Get your hand off the pistol Devlin. I honestly do not want to shoot you but I will and no one will figure it was me. You're surrounded by raiders right now so be a good boy." She put her finger on the trigger of his pistol, she really was preparing to murder him. Though, he might notice that her wrists were bruised.... As if she had been tied up or ... handcuffed.... What had he jokingly talked about with Alpha the night before?
Devlin     "Die on your feet, and not your knees, ain't that what most of you raiders say?" The smile on Devlin's lips never fades at this point, but it wasn't a happy smile in the least. "Name's Kyne.. Krysta, ya.. Krysta." Fluttering his eyes briefly, he was forcing them to focus again before his jaw clenches as he seethes while tensing his hips and thighs without largely moving. "Now.. Lower the guns.. I'll take mine off, then I'll piss on the ground, not the bed.. We'll talk then, even about me removing the cells.. After.."
Krysta      Krysta raised an eyebrow but did not refute or react to his accusation that she was a raider. She didn't move either. But she could tell he was starting to crack considering the way he was moving and slowly giving in. Still, she only let the rifle muzzle dip a bit. He had seen her shoot. She could get it back up easily if he tried something. "Fine. See? Lowered. Deal with yourself Devlin, so we can have a civilized 'conversation'."
Devlin     Shifting in the bed, Devlin was wise enough to not rise though for the first time, the trigger happy hand moved away hastily to his neck, ripping at several buttons to reveal a zipper. With his eyes locked onto Kyrsta, his jumpsuit was opened up, showing off a bandaged chest, dozens of small healing bruises, a crudely wrapped waistline and groin.. and half erect length that was tensing as much as his thighs were. Rolling his hips and tugging at the jumpsuit, Devlin wrapped his fingers around his length and aims it off and to the side towards the door before he stopped fighting. The slightly lidded expression in his eyes told the story, if the rifle wasn't lowered he was going to burst then and there as he only barely made it and now? Sweet sweet release of his drunken antics the night before.. which might take a while, though that was where most of his focus was for several moments.
Krysta      Krysta remained silent as he finally acquiesced to her 'request'. She did not avert her eyes from his form but she did not stare unduly either. It was like she was unaffected by his state of undress. There was nothing in her air but a cold observance, mostly of his hands. When he was done she would motion with the pistol toward the bed and glass of water. Then she would wait for him to collect himself. The second he started redressing he would find both weapons aimed back in his face. "Pistol."
Devlin     Closing his eyes, Devlin lets out a almost silent sigh of relief, starting to feel better for once. Without needing to look, he slip himself back into the jumpsuit without mentioning his side issue, though he would leave the buttons undone, leaving the ripper exposed. True to his word, he slips his fingers loosely around the end of the handle and slips the pistol out from its holster and onto the bed beside him.. but no further. The pistol was within reach being right by his hand, but a little more difficult to draw then before. "Water later.. Tell me. ..Why?"
Krysta      Krysta shrugged. If he didn't want to make his head hurt less that was his personal problem. And he had quite a few problems right now. When he finally was settled and that pistol was more out of his reach she seemed to relax some, leaning back against the chair, though her rifle remained aimed at him. She wasn't stupid. She was practically half his size.
    
     His question finally got a tilt of the head and a blink. "I saw an opportunity. I took it. That is all. You gave me quite a bit of information last night, Mr. Devlin, though it was not what I had asked for. Let's talk about you hmm? I know what you are now. You do remember our conversation yes?"
Devlin     "We didn't.. You wanted something about bringing gunners to El Dorado, I told you not to waste time." Looking back up towards Krysta now, Devlin looked at her choice of firearms, but then his eyes shifted away, studying the room itself. Not letting his eyes drift for long, only for a second or two, the man gave the gunman most of his attention though with her words, he began to think of what she had wanted. "Half a mile south, then one and a half mile north along the route, then two hundred feet to the east.. You wanted a location of a Enclave Gunner Patrol, right?" A soft smile was on his lips as he pauses before continuing, trying to gauge her reactions, "I helped the Militia slaughter a patrol that got too close a day and a half ago. You can look through their corpses if the geckos didn't get to them already."
Krysta      "Wrong. Try again." She listened to his directions quietly but did not rise to the bait. Shaking her head slowly she sighed as if he was being silly and she was growing weary. "You do not remember perhaps. You were rather drunk. I took your pistol right in front of you and then carried you out of the bar... and you walked right to this place with me. Right into the middle of the enemy. Well, they will be your enemy if I decide so."
    
     She tilted her head and sighed softly. It was as if she were getting annoyed but there was no expression on her face. "Devlin, I want to cause trouble at their own bases not here. I want information. And you, Sir, know a lot more than you are pretending about both the Gunners ad the Enclave. So do us both the courtesy of no longer lying. We're both up to our necks in this now. Let's see it through properly. Who are you."
Devlin     With the smile widening on his lips, Devlin almost whispers the admission he rarely gave "I am the living dead to the Enclave. I would rather be executed than have that information loosed. I'll tell you this.. I am not Enclave. I am not a Gunner. I am a mercenary loyal to myself and caps." Motioning to the side with his head, aiming towards the door he urinated towards he starts to smirk. "Now, we're in enemy territory.. That means I have little to lose."

    Looking around the room briefly, checking for where he somehow has lost his helm but found no hints of it. "Now.. if I wanted, I could take my chances, I could use this fucked arm here as a shield, likely rebreak the set but it would protect my head mostly, while letting my shoot more freely with the blaster at my side." Shrugging his broken arm's shoulder, he starts to slowly rotating its wrist, testing faintly how much he could move it without numbing pain. "No guarantee that I live, though, a higher chance that I live than if I told you things a deadman once told me."

    Motioning towards her with his broken arm's hand, he looks at her with a growing grin. "Now, it's in your hands. Though remember.. you're the one telling a dead man walking he has no hope but to give up."
Krysta      Krysta stared hard at him for a long moment. He'd basically confirmed what she'd suspected. His comments about not being a gunner and not being enclave were clearly contradicted by his comment that he was the living dead to the Enclave. She frowned and shook her head at his comment.
    
     "No, Devlin. /you/ are in enemy territory. They won't touch a hair on my cute little head unless I pay them to. And I'm fully prepared to do so if you screw with me." She lifted up her hand with the pistol, to show him the bruises on her wrist, clearly looking like ligature marks. She'd been busy the night before.
     "Give me a location Devlin. Even just the Gunners." For the first time emotion showed in those hard violet eyes. Anger. A deep seeded hatred that leaked through when she spit the word Gunner. "I want those bastards to suffer slow at my hand. And I will do whatever it takes to get that done. One. By. One."
Devlin     "I.. Don't.. Know.." is said slowly as if Krysta was hard of hearing. "Don't you fucking understand me? Though you have a point.. I'm in enemy territory, you aren't.." Blinking slowly, Devlin takes in a steady breath before exhaling as his eyes wash over the woman before him, studying her rifle, then her exposed chest piece, then her leg guards and her uniform.. "So.. A member of the Militia, that's rather friendly with the Raiders what Jack's paying to have killed, is holding me. What part of this scenario makes it sound like I'd live anyways?"

    "To top things off, you don't know anything.. like a damn fool." Something suddenly struck the man, a bout of humor or a flickered memory causing his shoulders to somewhat slack. Parting his lips, Devlin gave Krysta a wide grin, showing off his oddly straight teeth as he says. "Gunner location, Southern Kansas. Signs say, five miles south, southwest of a Wichita. ..Last time I visited? twenty-two months prior. There, happy now?" is asked somewhat bitterly, and it was easy to see what he knew it wasn't what she truly asked for.
Krysta      The look that overcame Krysta's face was cold, freezing, rage. She was up then and striking at him with the left hand that held his own weapon, trying to pistol whip him across the cheek. Unfortunately, he managed to avoid the strike. Also, unfortunately, she was fast. A little too fast. It put her momentum so that she was exposed and vulnerable for a split second, too close for pistols, indeed, but off balance enough that he might be able to subdue her if he was lucky. The only recognition was a look in her eyes as if while her body could not move fast enough, her mind was aware of what might be coming.
Devlin     Devlin was able to move and weave from the sudden movements coming towards him but.. he didn't advance. Leaving her to try and regain her balance, he shifts his hand to the side, scooping up his laser pistol and flicking the charge on, arming the sidearm. Tracking the woman with his eyes, his right hand rapidly began to track her, and due to the short barrel of the weapon, even if she fall on top of him he wouldn't find it too difficult to keep her on target. "Trying to hit me with my own pistol? Fucking hell!" is said with a raised tone, trying to play up his confusion rather than what he actually felt. "I told you all I know, I don't know anything about this region."
Krysta      Krysta saw the pistol in his hand and heard the hum from the charge being engaged ad did in fact land right on top of him. She even squeaked a little as if in surprise. They ended up with her half straddling him, her rifle clattered to the floor and his Beretta was in her hand over his shoulder. Her free hand had caught hold of his shoulder and now just held on tightly as she froze completely. She did not move forward or off him.
    
     The woman stared down at the man, unflinching but waiting. At that range, she could not move fast enough to hit him or headbutt him without him blowing a hole in her with that pistol. There was no fear in her gaze, only tension, waiting for what he was going to do next. Though she did speak. "Former Enclave then. Figures."
Devlin     Being too distracted with his pistol, he didn't realize how far Krysta lost her balance until she was on top of him and he was flat on his back. Looking into his eyes would reveal something.. Pain. His teeth were clenched, his eyes were widened and a hand below her was in a tight ball, she landed with her hand on his broken arm's shoulder. The rest of her position wasn't minded as much until she moved, aggravating a lower wound that was still fresh and badly bandaged.

    The pain he didn't mind, the words she offered did.. His response wasn't verbal, he simply pressed his laser pistol against the side of her ribs and pressed firmly, using the the precision focus adapter to press between her ribs. "Why.. why did you have to say that out loud?" is asked softly, almost a whispered hiss. "Now it's 'your' turn to stay still and talk.. Who.. are.. you?"
Krysta      Krysta jolted back as they landed and she saw the pain in his face. She had not intended to do his arm real harm and was halfway to moving off him when he pressed that pistol into her ribs. She slowed.. and stilled, now more on hands and knees over him, looking down at him. She did not seem fearful, though. Her expression was like stone. She noted the hiss and would think on it later... If there was a later.
    
     His question made her tilt her head faintly. She did not answer immediately, though. Instead, she met his eyes head on, moving slowly, deliberately. Her left hand with his pistol moved stiffly to the side where she let the gun rest on the bed. Then returned her hand to where it had been by his head. A single braid of white hair slipped from it's moorings, falling alongside her face and coiling on the bed to the left of his head. Her throat showed that though her face showed no emotion, her heart rate was aware of the danger she was in.
    
     Her answer, though, was simple. "I am no one."
Devlin     "As much as I am a dead man.. There's always more.." Tilting his head towards the door, Devlin twists his lips into a smirk and relaxes. "The only reason I have it at your lung is I need you alive, if you shout I shoot, but you know the details.." Slipping his pistol along her side, he moves of oddly in front of her chestplate and says, "I never intended to kill you. It gets me nothing.. Nothing but trouble.. I'm too tired to kill a dozen raiders anyways." Soon the pistol drifts lower and lower, traveling past her chestpiece, running along the clothes that shield her stomach, then her waistline before.. the sound of leather could be heard along with a gentle whine, the pistol was spooling down in its holster.

    Moving his hand away from his pistol, Devlin slips his hand to Krysta's side, giving it a gently pat as she was poised above him. Now disarmed once again, this time willingly, the man was speaking calmly and softly, with a touch a clarity. "All I wanted was your gun out of my face.. If you wanted to know things, then all you had to do was ask, or pay me, depends on the quality." Shifting his head to the left slightly, he looks at where he had was along with where she was leaving his pistol before turning to the other side, trying to keep track of the rifle. "Civil.. What's what I want.. Think you can manage that for a short while? You'll get more answer from me then. If you stay rough, well.. As I said, not much to lose. Die to you, die to the raiders after you would be, die from wounds after killing you -and- all of the raiders and patrol groups? I'm good.. not that good."
Krysta      Krysta didn't move. She did not flinch as he trailed the gun lower, but her eyes did react. They unfocused and shifted to the side, a conditioned response to... something. She'd been in a situation like this before perhaps? When she heard the leather of his holster and felt the pat to her side she blinked several times, tensing up, but offering him defiance at the touch.
    
     A moment later there was confusion. He could tell the rifle was on the floor since it landed kind of on his boot. He had managed to flip the tables on her quite efficiently. His assurance that he just wanted the gun out of his face made her narrow those hard eyes slightly. Her response was almost petulant. "I did pay you and you gave me nothing but hints at your own past."
    
     Still, she didn't move, gun or no. "They won't touch either of us." She said, indicating the door. It was all he had gotten so far from her really. By the clues he could gather it was probably just some random raider types that ran a safehouse type hotel. Hense why she'd paid for the room.
Devlin     "I don't remember you playing me anything.. I don't remember you much at all either way." Shifting slightly below her, Devlin uses his legs and hips with a grumble of pain to slip higher from under Krysta before starting to sit up, his lowered hand still on her hip. "Now.. How about we sit and talk this time.. sober? No guns, no threats.. no mentioning of the past that should be locked away."

    Continuing to sit up, Devlin didn't seem to push Krysta from over him, and if she stayed he would guide her upwards until she was on her knees and they were looking roughly eye to eye. "Now.. Seeing as you knew what was truthful, what was bullshit, you know more than you let on beyond who 'held your leash'." Shrugging his shoulder, he shifts his gaze from the woman directly in front of him and looks towards the bed he was laying on, not sure what time he even was, his pipboy was behind her back.

    "Pay me in caps and I can tell you everything that won't get me killed, so.. where are these mystery caps you paid me before you took my gun, Hmm?"
Krysta      Krysta just continued to stare at him as he told her he didn't remember the caps or her really. She didn't move even as he did. It was as if that hand on her hip kept her immobile. The first reaction he got from her was when he was sitting and she was still as she had been and even then it was just a clenching of her jaw.
    
     She sat up on her knees when directed. That she knew what was real and not about his information had been a sign of her own involvement with one or both of the groups in the past. That was true. But she grit her teeth hard enough that it was audible when he referred to it as who 'held her leash'.
    
     But her hand came up even as she settled down on her heels a bit more for balance. It patted one of his side pockets on his chest that had been empty last he checked but now had something inside. If he dug it out he'd find that she had put both the caps ad the antibiotics in there while he slept.
Devlin     Lowering his gaze, Devlin follows the hand and could hear the sound of shifting caps when he pats at his pocket and then starts to nod, furling his brow. The thought of blanking out that much didn't comfort him though something else brought his attention, her reactions and her now lack of speech. Looking up, he shakes his head and looks into her eyes, watching her gaze for a hint of her emotions. "I.. do.. not.. care.. You are 'now' just a hunter of Enclave sympathetic Gunners for their abuse and torture of you. I am 'now' just a mercenary that has a affinity with technology."

    Waiting a few moments to see her reaction, one thing Krysta might have noticed was, his hand appeared to have a mind of its own. Rather than travel higher or lower, his hand begins to slowly add pressure with his thumb, but it wasn't to hurt her but to lightly massage a circle along her side, feeling for tension to work out. The pattern would work over his fingers and this thumb as two different parties, his fingers being softer and this thumb being to work out deeper spots.

    With his hand occupied, Devlin tries to smile and say, "You can speak, you're not a prisoner. Just relax, as you said.. you have the power to turn this into a blood bath by screaming. I have just one hand.. I'm limited, and not a threat unless threatened."
Krysta      Krysta narrowed her eyes at Devlin when he claimed he didn't care what she /was/. She frowned. That thumb working as if to soothe her got a strange look from the woman as though she had no idea what he was doing. In fact, she didn't. "There's nothing hiding there Devlin. And you're missing the pressure point by about half an inch." She shook her head oddly, wondering who failed when they taught him about pain points. It wasn' that she didn't have tension. Her entire body was one huge intricate endless knot of muscle. She carried it as if it were an extra layer of armor.
    
     However, the comment that she wasn't a prisoner made her finally crack a little. She blushed and shifted her eyes to the side. Growling, she said, "I told you that was bullshit. I paid for a room. That's all." Her eyes snapped back and she challenged him. "You're the idiot that couldn't even tell me if we were headed to the right place last night. What the fuck is wrong with you? Did you mix pain killers and booze?" She'd lost a bit of her militaristic pattern of speech with the unfamiliar emotion of embarrassment.
    
     But she didn't wait to hear his answer. she looked to the side and glared at her loose braid. "Sonofabitch." It only took her a few moments, but if he didn't stop her, she would end up with a literal hand full of bobby pins, Her hair fell around her then, several braids keeping it neat despite being mostly free, and the rest hanging low past her hips. It made her look even younger. And far more feminine...
    
     And then she broke the illusion by scratching like a madwoman. When that much hair starts to come apart it hurts and pulls the scalp, thus needing to be reset. She had not been able to mess with it for almost 30 hours by that point and was starting to cause a headache.
    
     She shifted slightly, careful of his injuries, but looking uncomfortable. Finally, her head tipped forward s her chin sank to her chest. "What do you know about Gunners and torture....."
Devlin     Murmuring the words, "Massage, not pressure points.. Wasn't trained in C.Q.C. Pistols over power claws.." as a retort, Devlin didn't stop his hands's work of her side. Using his thumb, he presses firmly along Krysta's side and holds it in place, trying to cause the blood to rush to that point before slowly rubbing a spiral outwards before starting anew at a spot close by. Every third spot worked would cause his hand to pause, stretch and relax for several moments, trying to keep it from tensing or cramping too much.

    "You told me that.. while you had an assault rifle and a pistol.. 'My' pistol aimed at my head, think about that. How much would you put stock in.. when you think turn and say if you scream they will come in to kill me?" Arching a brow, he looks at her questioningly before looking down at his arm, then looking down at his.. well, now her groin, his wasn't in sight any more though that causes his gaze to look back up and towards her face. "Lets just say.. I'm have a 'really' long week and needed to relax. It wasn't like I was shooting Med-X, just some herbs chewed."

    Unsure of what was going on, Devlin couldn't help but start to chuckle as he watches Krysta loose all of her focus because of hair, hair of all things. Moving his massaging hand for a moment up and towards her bicep, he tries to grasp onto her to try and cause her to still but not hurt her in the slightest. "Shh.. Settle now, worry about the hair another time, it won't kill ya nor will it kill me. I'll even help ya brush it out after you can see things are better, okay?" Unless she was starting to fight him, his hand would drop down and continue working on her hip carefully.

    "I know a lot of the Gunners, though local divisions? Nothing. Divisions that work with Enclave here? Nothing. Likely doing it to not get crushed and to bootlick thinking Enclave will spare them, they won't.. They'll just wait and get them last." Shrugging his shoulders slightly, but then curls his lips inwards to run the tip of his lips across them slowly before whispering once again, "Depends on what you want. Torture for information or torture for satisfaction or torture for punishment? Many flavors, many kinds, many depravities."
Krysta      Krysta raised an eyebrow at the indication that he was massaging her, not trying to hurt her. Pistols over power claws indeed. The attention to her muscles just continued to seem to confuse her but she wasn't shoving him away. When he gripped her arm she stilled again, watching him. She didn't fight, though. This whole situation had turned on its head and she was suddenly faced with new, unfamiliar territory. She slipped he pins into a pocket of her own.
    
     Mention of the herbs he'd chewed made her shake her head. No one really knew how those combined with alcohol and it was still silly to mix the two. But she did not say anything further. The real draw was when he started talking about the Gunners. Without thinking much she frowned deeply and nodded in agreement that the Enclave was going to just save the traitors for last. She disliked the idea of it, yet, there she was, plotting their downfall. It was complicated.
    
     The conversation shifted to darker things then and she frowned. it was pretty clear that there was definitely something there in her past, but she didn't seem to enjoy the conversation. "Punishment, satisfaction..... They never did ask me questions. Just 'trained' me not to answer them. And you forgot one. Experimentation." She shifted, suddenly looking defensive, her hand twitching like she wanted that goddamn pistol back. It was something he should understand considering the night before he'd had the same desire to hold a gun in his hand. She didn't speak, just turned that false anger on him, waiting for him to accuse her of being weak on such things even mattering or bothering her.
Devlin     "Good, good.. as I said, just relax. We're talking calmly, no need for formalities." Krysta would be able to see the smirk on his lips was shifting into a steady smile and that his eyes, despite the jungle of hair was staying on her eyes, not reaching for either gun or his own. "Take your time with it, if you need help, I have one hand, but only if you're desperate, I don't know how to help." It wouldn't be until the mention of a fourth type of torture is brought up, that the smile fades to a wisp of it's former self.

    "No, Enclave wouldn't have a use in most forms of experimentation. For such you have dedicated researchers. Once an experiment is done, they kill the labrats and scorch all the remains with the hellfire troopers. Later the results are used to augment the current alpha division and shock troopers." Shrugging his shoulder lightly he looks past her for a moment to where she had been all night, trying to see just what she used to stay so alert with, any food or water beyond what was offered as well. "Gunners doing their own trials and experiments wouldn't be under Enclave eye, the Enclave wouldn't give them any true resource they couldn't take back instantly."

    Feeling a twitch, Devlin looks down and starts noticing her hands were starting to react oddly to listening to the topic. Lowering his own hand from her side to her forearm he slowly slid it down to her wrist but then speaks up, "May hurt, need to see if it's broken, Raiders tend to cross often, might need you to leave either way," is the excuse before his hand applied any pressure to her wrist, even on the bruises to see how old they were and how much was bruised beyond the skin.
Krysta      Krysta listened to his explanation, to his comments about the Enclave and how they would experiment and then use that to enhance Alpha Division and shock troopers, only to exterminate the lab rats. She shook her head slowly. She wasn't happy with the path of the conversation. But she saw that he disliked the idea of experimentation on humans. this surprised her faintly as she half expected him to tell her it was nothing to accept.
    
     When he slid his hand to her wrist she tensed, watching him with flashing eyes. "What are you doing?" Her voice was tense, but by the time she was starting to pull away he was talking calmly and squeezing her small wrist in his hand. She winced a little, not much. The wrist wasn't broken but the bruises were fresh. Made last night while he slept. As such, she frowned. "I told you I made it look good to keep you under control. You like your job so you wouldn't want trouble with the sheriff. Or the bar owner." Yes, she had just admitted freely to making it look like he'd tied her up or cuffed her. And if she'd wanted more injuries those guys outside would beat on her for some caps no problem. She'd thought this through far too well considering how much time she'd had to do so.
    
     "What does you having one arm have to do with me acting like a baby over old scars?"
Devlin     "The Alpha and Lynnette?" are named curiously as she mentions their professions. Devlin starts to chuckle and lids his eyes some, seemingly relaxing that she had already planned for them to leave even if things turned poorly and 'that' was her back up plan. "If I managed to tie ya up like this, Alpha knows how I looked at raiders, how I mused over torturing them while ordering them to stay locked still, poised to rape his poor little lover." Moving his hand from her wrist, he gently pats the back of her hand and says, "They would wonder why you don't have blade marks or laser burns. If you are running away from someone like me after I bound you up like that? I'd just kill you."

    Devlin spoke softly, even after the statement, it was easy to tell it wasn't a statement but a conclusion to a 'what if', but shakes his head gently. "Anyways, I only have one working arm, the other's broken, how would I man handle you like that so expertly?" Moving his hand down, Devlin tests it onto the top of her thigh, his now clearly violet eyes looking into her own. "Now, if you want to keep talking, we can at my place.. there's ice there and you can leave when you're content." Using his chin, he motions downwards towards her crotch. "Anyways Krysta.. I couldn't rape you even if I wanted to. Pumping with a fucked over groin isn't my idea of a good time."

    Looking away, not to the door but the window, Devlin nods in a direction, "Would rather get these wounds looked over than sit about in a den where I am going to pick up a contract and execute every last one of them.. Wouldn't you?" Almost absentmindedly he tacks on, "If it helps your pride or excuses, I did that to your wrists, maybe that pretty neck of your's could be next. I don't mind. It's your choice ya know.. you could sit pretty in my lap and do your hair, or you could get fresh air."
Krysta      Krysta blinked several times at him. Her eyes narrowed dangerously, trying to figure out if he was threatening her or .. flirting with her.... She had bad dreams and memories and physical reactions to the torture in her past but she would not curl into a ball and cry and beg if she had to face it again.
    
     And then...
    
     CRACK!!! The second he was done talking her hand, now released from his grip, snapped out to crack across his cheek hard enough to leave a red mark behind. When he looked up again he would find she was glaring at him, her cheeks a bright red. She fumed.
    
     "Do I look like I'd let you fucking rape me?! Go to fucking Hell, Devlin!" Ah, there was proof she had lived with mercenaries of some kind at some point. "Anyone can be overpowered." Yes, she had just contradicted herself. She did not care. "So don't act like you couldn't have done it already. When I slipped you had plenty of opportunity. Besides cuffs don't require two hands."
    
     She had half a mind to claw his groin just to piss him off. But there was a layer under that anger that he could see, just barely. A layer that spoke of a younger kind of personality, inexperienced in the ways of the world. Yet that made no sense right?
    
     She started standing up then, intent on picking up her rifle. Earlier when he looked around for refreshments or whatever had kept Krysta awake, he'd have found nothing. She didn't even have a glass of water for herself. She had just left the one for him. She was halfway to standing - still being careful of his injuries even without him reminding her - when he said he'd rather go home and get his wounds looked at (even bringing her along). And she froze at his last statements. At first, she looked like she might retort.. But then she just stared at him, mouth hanging open in a dumbfounded expression when he seemed to offer to strangle her to make it look better. She just.. stared.
Devlin     The smile on his lips would remain until the moment the slap connects hard enough to turn his head off to one side by a noteworthy turn and stayed that way, somewhat confused. Listening to Krysta yell at him left him more than a bit confused, Devlin turns towards her again, slowly before tilting his head slightly. "Cuffs? I don't own any cuffs, what are you talking about? Anyways, it.." letting his mouth hang open for a moment, he shook his head, something seemed to tell him to hold his tongue for the moment.

    Watching Krysta start to move, Devlin moves with her, shifting on the bed once she was no longer completely straddling his lap. Looking to the side, he watches as she hesitates for the moment but he shifts forward, moving his right hand back onto her left hip while getting his legs under himself. Using his own body, he guides her to stand more or less upright while he uses her to help support himself, he hadn't stood in quite a few hours and only recently was sitting up again, leaving him off balanced.

    "Sorry bout that.." is said as he slips his hand away, using the hand to casually reach for his pistol before pausing, "I'm not ganna shoot you. Waste of rounds to shoot someone that you don't intend to kill." Giving Krysta a few second to understand him, he moves to pick up the pistol, onto to quickly move to slip it into his armor vault's built in side holster. Looking down at the ground, he checks where she could have put his helm, but also checking if she had additional gear.
Krysta      Krysta looked annoyed but helped him stand upright. Her only gear was that rifle that was still on the ground and he would find his helm down beside the bed. When he bent for the pistol she did tense up, not trusting him really but flushed when he assured her he wasn't going to shoot her. She would lead him out of the room, helping support him if he needed it.
    
     Once they were outside she coughed and looked at him. "Lead the way. I told that Bar Keeper I would take you home. So I will."
Devlin     Walking around to lead the way, Devlin looks at the woman while they stood side by side in the hall when she told him to take the lead. The stare would only last a fleeting moment before a smirk appears on his lips as he rather quietly says, "You looked so much taller while you were on top of me." Turning away, a chuckle starts to bubble up his chest and catch in his throat, despite the slight limp he walked with.

    Walking through the building, Krysta would notice that despite his wounded state, his hungover state, his once kidnapped status.. Devlin was looking the building over carefully, counting the doors, how often a room sounded full, how messy the place was with recent traffic. It wouldn't be until they were outside that he turns towards Krysta and says, "Once home, I'd like to pay you for the intel on the building. I'll need to talk to the Sheriff about payment, then it will be culled."

    Even as he spoke about killing their hosts, the smirkish smile was still on his lips, and Devlin seemed like it was normal idle talk. "The question is, if you want part of the bounty or if that's left just to me. You'll have a few days to think it over."
Krysta      Krysta did notice his interest and attention to detail and when they were outside and he spoke of culling the place she frowned. She would look around as if she didn't care but there was a definite sense about her that she was now sizing him up for a fight. Her shoulders were tense and her hand twitched toward her rifle. Al it took was a glance and she knew she'd been unable to hide it. "Leave them alone Devlin. They're useful and they don't hurt people. A lot."
Devlin     "The Militia's now defending Raiders?" is asked in a teasing tone before simply starting to walk forward, not minding where her hands were. "It's unbecoming of an officer you know, if you like the pets, then train the pets. Lead them to engage other settlements quietly.. If Alpha sets a price on them, you will need to give me a reason to give them a head up to run, I'd only kill the deadheads then.." As he began to walk again, Devlin raised his voice slightly, making sure she heard him before lowering his tone, "But I'd need that reason still."

    The walk through Jack's town in the middle of the day would be, as expected, uneventful as the man headed towards the cliffs, a more sectioned off part of town where it lacked businesses and often had squatters and addicts finding century old housing.. Devlin's home was among them though it had significantly more repair done to them, even a fresh coating of clay giving it a almost smooth appearance. "Coming in, and sitting or sitting by the door while I change these bandages?"
Krysta      "I told you. They're useful. But, hey, if you want to, go ahead. Another safehouse will pop up and I'll just find that one too. You can't win." She paused at the door when he asked if she was coming in or not and she raised an eyebrow. "You're an idiot, Devlin. And a jackass." But she would follow him inside.
Devlin     "You don't have a gun at my head, I'm alive.. I think that's a good base. As for safe houses.. I don't care, I told you what I did. If you have friends there and they want a tip off, come to me ahead of time." Turning around for a moment, the fake amusement on his lips fades and a more bland expression washes over his face as he explains, "Caps. Caps for information, wasn't that what you agreed to before? Now.. let me clean these wounds." Turning around, Devlin slips into the building, but in doing so he left the door open for Krysta to step inside as well or to wait outside.

    Within the small house, Devlin could be seen pulling out small containers before finding the correct satchel of herbs, powders and some needles though they appeared empty. Sitting down on a chair, the man began to partially strip, tending to his groin with care, checking the stitching, for infection signs as well as making sure any buildup was drained. After his groin was his side which he checked on but redressed after removing several thin cords sewing skin together. With his arm, the mercenary left it be, and chose to begin working on redressing.
Krysta      Krysta rolled her eyes but followed him inside. When he began working on himself, she left him be for the most part but when he ignored his arm she shook her head and moved to his side, helping him to readjust the brace and bandages. She wasn't experienced but she was careful. And then she patted his chest pocket. "Antibiotics, Devlin. You were bitten by a lizard."
Devlin     Nodding his head slightly, "..I know, that's why I loose sewed it myself, letting it leak even after flushing it out best I could." Moving his hand to the pocket, it wasn't simple for Devlin but he pulled out the package of pills and left them on the table save for one which he pulls into his left palm. Walking into the small kitchen area, he uses a large ladle to dip into a kettle of water that had been left out but covered to sip a half a mouthful of water before lowering it back into the container. Moving the pill from hand to hand he pops it into his mouth and drinks it down in gulps at a time and ending with a audible sigh. "Need to find a bottler, could start sealing some of the old bottles with water, longer term storage of them.." It was clear his mind for then had an ease to it for losing focus on the task at hand when it wasn't pressing.. such as the stranger in his house.