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Iris Lark Iris is a woman who often seeks a nice, quiet, out-of-the-way spot when she's feeling overwhelmed. This place reminds her of Mexico and after treating wounds for a few hours she sneaks into the vehicle bay and finds a quiet nook behind a few cars and settles down. She has her legs drawn up to her chest, and her chin on her knees as she tries to work through things in her mind.

"I am free. I am healthy. Nobody can take any of that away from me. I'll see my home again." It's almost a mantra, repeated over and over softly as she focuses on one of the flat tires on the vehicle nearest to her.
Davidson Out there in the wastes, moving quietly often means the difference between life and death. It can become a habit, as well, which is why Davidson's stroll through the wreckage of the vehicle bay is one unaccompanied by whistling or heavy foot-falls. He's double-checking a list written on salvaged paper, held in one hand, a frown pursing his lips. He pauses in his steps as he hears a quiet voice, craning his neck to peer around the back of an APC to where Iris is settled in, "...hello?"
Iris Lark Iris blinks up as Davidson comes into view and her cheeks go pink with embarassment. "Uhm.. Hi." She unfolds herself and pushes to her feet, dusting her hands against the back of her jeans. "I didn't know anyone was here." She dithers for a moment, before she decides to brazen it out. Striding forward, she holds a hand out and manages a smile. "Iris Lark. Combat medic. Healer...whatever we're being called these days."
Davidson Davidson breathes out a chuckle, stuffing the list into one of his pockets and stepping around the vehicle to meet her. He reaches out a dirty hand to clasp hers, "Davidson Harris. Scout, cartographer. Sorry if I'm disturbing you back here, didn't think there was anyone either."
Iris Lark Iris glances down at where she was sitting before a shoulder jerks up in what might be a shrug. "I was just.." She bites down on her bottom lip for a moment and then she folds her arms loosely across her chest. "Honestly, I've been a bit overwhelmed and was hiding for a little bit." She admits, shifting on her feet as she mentally censures herself. "Ever feel like you're not sure if you're in the right place or doing the right thing?"
Davidson "I can't really blame you. Me, I'm more used to being out there on my own, or in a market hawking my maps..." Davidson brings a hand back up to scrub at the nape of his neck, his expression wry, "This isn't exactly the sort of situation I'm used to. Or suited for, really, but... I mean, we fuck up? El Dorado's gone. So the way I look at it, we don't get a lot of choice."
Iris Lark "Well, I don't think any of us are really suited for war, but we get better at it each time we do it." Iris replies, and she lets her gaze settle on Davidson for a few moments. "The horde is still coming for us even if we do succeed here, it's why we've been building up on defenses." She tilts her head slightly and her eyes narrow. "Maps, so that is what a cartographer does?" She takes a few steps closer and smiles. "Do you have any good maps of this area, or is that what you came along to do?"
Davidson "It's my first time in the area," Davidson admits, leaning his shoulder and hip against the vehicle that the medic was settled against previously, one hand patting the pouch at his hip loaded with leather cylinders, "I've been mapping out the area so we can locate good ambush sites, predict their possible movements, so forth." He shrugs one shoulder, letting it fall, a faint smile curving to his lips, "Would prefer to not have to be dodging mutant patrols while I survey the area, but life's not fair."
Iris Lark "No, it isn't.." Iris responds, and she tilts her head up to look at Davidson. "Perhaps someone from the militia could escort you, keep you safe?" She leans against a wall and folds her hands in front of her. "Maybe get you to do some mapping if we get to go home from this, there has to be a faster route down to this forsaken place." She offers him a slight grin. "What got you into cartography?"
Davidson At that, Davidson flashes a cocky grin. "I may not be a bad-ass with a rifle, but out there on my own... I can keep myself safe, no need to divert resources my way. We're already short on supplies and people." He dips his head in a nod, "I did some basic sketches on the way down, hopefully we'll be a little less rushed when we head back, can take our time and map out some routes. Maybe even get some regular caravans back and forth." He brings up a hand, then, scratching at the side of his nose, "Just used to do it for fun, as a kid. Little maps of where things were, where I could hide, where I could get around people I didn't want to deal with. Where I hadn't explored yet, I was a nosy kid." He chuckles. "Eventually some guy new to town spotted one, wanted to buy it off me. The rest's history."
Iris Lark "I see.." Iris eyes him when he gives that cocky grin, and takes a slight step back away from Davidson. "Well I'm glad to have someone like you along, because maps are very useful." She pushes her hair away from her face and finds a place to get comfortable and sit down. "You haven't gotten hurt since you've been here, have you? I might be able to help if so."
Davidson "A few scratches and bruises," admits Davidson with a shake of his head, "Looks like you're on break, though, wouldn't want to drag you to work. So what about you?" A brow tic's upward, "What got you into the medic'ing business?"
Iris Lark "I didn't get into it, I was forced into it. Once someone gets good at something, seems a shame to abandon it." Iris answers, trying to disguise her vagueness by avoiding eye contact. "I don't mind cleaning and dressing he scratches, honestly, but that is entirely up to you." She gestures to the walker nearby and makes an effort to change the subject. "Ever see anything like that before?"
Davidson A slight frown creases Davidson's brow at her answer, watching her a moment, and then he glances up in the direction of her gesture. "Can't say that I have," he admits, gaze sweeping over the walker, "I heard stories, from the attack on El Dorado... but I never actually saw one up close. If we could get that baby moving, that'd help a lot when the horde reaches u."
Iris Lark "I know a few people were working on it, and it looks..imposing." Iris says, and then she smiles towards Davidson. "Do you work for the militia, then? Or are you freelance?" She dithers a moment before she starts to speak again. "The reason I ask is because I work for a caravan company, and I can't help but think how useful it would be to have a cartographer for some of our jobs."
Davidson "I'm freelance," admits Davidson, looking back from the machine to Iris, smile tugging up a bit at the corner of his lips, "Only came along because Rexus said I could be useful out here, and... well. Getting all the way out to see Texas, that was a pretty tempting bit of bait to dangle, I've got to admit. Caravaneers, eh?"
Iris Lark "Rexus is right, having someone along means that if we play our cards right, we can see the most likely places the horde will approach our area and be ready for them." Iris says, and it's clear that time around the militia and other military elements has given her at least a glancing knowledge of a few things. "But if you ever wanted to do something fun, you should see about Lone Star. Nice people, and a chance to probably map most of the surrounding areas."
Davidson "Lone Star, eh? I'll keep you in mind," Davidson allows with a tip of his head and a crooked smile, "I mean, I can survive out there alone, doesn't mean it isn't nice to have people to travel /with/. And caps, caps are always good."
Iris Lark "I'll admit, I'm not a good saleswoman, and I'm sure others could give you more of a reason to join.." Iris trails off and she chuckles softly, her fingers linking as she fidgets. "Yes though, money is always welcome as are people to travel with." She grins up at Davidson. "So how about it, you want something done with some of those wounds?"
Davidson "Alright, alright," Davidson laughs, pushing off from the car's side, "If you're going to keep hounding me about it." Teasing, a bit, "I suppose we're all going to need to be in tip-top shape when the Horde gets here anyway."
Iris Lark "I just know the trouble that comes of waiting to treat something." Iris responds, and she opens her rucksack, pulling supplies from it. "It's too easy to get hurt, honestly." She doesn't make eye contact as she starts cleaning his wounds. "Just be careful not to get too close when they do get here, they just...absorb people." She shudders and shakes her head. "Not something I ever want to see again."
Davidson As she works at his wounds - mostly scratches, bruises, the occasional half-healed cut scabbed over, natural results of scavenging through the wastes - Davidson holds still, just the occasional little grunt escapting him. "Don't plan to," he mutters in agreement, "If luck's with us, I'll keep my ass up on a wall plinking away with my pea-shooter here and far away from those big mutant assholes."
Iris Lark Iris chuckles and when the wounds are cleaned and dressed she gets out of Davidson's personal space. "There, you'll have to tell me if it feels better." She puts her supplies back inside her rucksack and takes a seat. "Luck should stay with us if we keep preparing. That is not the most important thing, morale apparently is, but being prepared doesn't hurt."
Davidson Davidson dips his head in a nod as she draws back, "Appreciated..." A wry smile over, "Luck, yeah, morale, sure. Personally, I think 'a shit ton of guns' is going to be the most deciding factor there."
Iris Lark Iris glances at her plasma pistol and nods a bit. "You're not wrong, every gun will make a difference." She glances around the still silent vehicle bay. "If I didn't think it was a bit evil, I'd even advocate giving chems to the fighting force, if nothing else to stir them into fighting harder."
Davidson "What's worse," Davidson asks rhetorically, leaning his head back to look up at the ceiling of the bay, "Getting hooked on chems, or being dead on the ground? I'm not saying we should, but... this is going to be a messy fight, Lark."
Iris Lark A contemplative look settles on her face for a moment or two. When Iris does look up again, she looks slightly amused. "We'll see how things look. Never say never, as it is sometimes said. It would be a bit of a blow to my business to give away that many chems, but.." She sighs and shrugs a shoulder. "I want to get home, and if that will tip the scales, so be it."
Davidson "Me too." A few moments of silence, and Davidson adds with a chuckle, "As interesting as it is being out here, I'd rather it not be in the middle of a warzone. My idea of an interesting new horizon to explore doesn't involve a wall of angry green flesh."
Iris Lark "Well you let me know if I can do anything to help you." Iris says, pushing to her feet as her hands go to her hair, gathering it into a bun as she prepares to go back into the dregs and get dirty. "If it's within my power to help, I will, know tht." She picks up her rucksack and glances around one last time before she heads out. "Listen careful out there, okay? Stand behind the people who get paid to shoot and sacrifice."
Davidson "Same." A push up to his feet again, Davidson's hands bracing at the small of his back as he stretches--a wince as a vertebrae pops into place--and then offers over an easy smile, "You need a route mapped out or an extra rifle to cover you, come give me a yell."
Iris Lark "I shall, it was nice to meet you." Iris says, offering a shallow bow at Davidson before she turns to make her way to the exit. Before she steps out into the dark she pulls her hat down on her head and hikes her rucksack higher up on her shoulder."