A little slice of post-apocalyptia... (Nivansrywyllian, Ms.Ezra) (Fallout themed)

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Alexander should have known better than to ask after the battle. He had a few unshakable memories himself, and he frowned slightly at his own thoughtlessness. He could recognize that thousand-yard stare. He'd seen it enough.

When Darcy picked up the harmonica, he favored her with a half-smile, and produced a spoon from his pocket. Not bothering to warm the beans, he tucked in to the meal with a vengeance, as she played. He was glad for the opportunity to eat uninterrupted, and just as glad that he had time to recover from his ill-placed question.

When the song reached it's finish, he found himself grinning at the woman over an empty can. "That was mighty fine," he said. "Maybe some day, if you liquor me up well enough, I'll give you a song." He set the now-empty tin can aside, and returned the spoon to his pocket.

"You said you'd turned egg-hunter. Have you turned up much 'round here?"
 
"Round here?" Darcy put the harmonica back in its case then back in her bag. "Well, used to be I could find plenty of Gecko and Radscorpion eggs 'round here, but lately I've been seeing less adults and less eggs." She contemplatively looked around at the area. She knew of a Radscorpion nest nearby just past the solar plant that could still have a few clutches. Maybe she'd head over there just to do some recon for a later hunt.

"Garth, a friend of mine in the Followers, reckons it's one of two things," She put up one finger "Their eggs are being pillaged too often: which I doubt, I mean I'm one of six egg hunters working for Red Lucy, and she don't need eggs too often." She shrugged and put another finger "Or there's a new predator encroaching on 'em." Darcy shrugged again "But that don't seem likely either, as I'm sure someone would have a clue about a new critter coming into the Mojave."
 
Alexander rolled a shoulder in an uncertain shrug. "I wouldn't be all that surprised if the Mojave spat out somethin' new to kill us with." He let out a sigh, and glanced to the remainder of the food for which he'd traded. He stowed it about his person, despite the urge to gorge himself 'til he was full. Tomorrow was going to be a long day, and longer still if he ate all of his food tonight.

Back to Darcy went his attention, and he found himself grinning again. "Well, if things get too dire, you could always get a crew together to grab some of those Deathclaw eggs, if you know anybody hard enough to go on that sort of mission." A hand rose to scratch at his stubble. He was in need of a shave. "I stumbled into a nest myself once, y'know."

A hand rose to the collar of the duster, and he flipped it down. A finger tugged at the neckline of the shirt beneath the ballistic vest, revealing the corner of a nasty scar, that ran downwards from the man's shoulder.
 
"Deathclaw eggs? Even I ain't brave enough to go snatching them up." She laughed "Only Bloody Mary, Red Lucy's sister, has the balls for that."

"Oh my oh my," Darcy took a close look at Alex's impressive scar. She'd had yet to see anyone with just a scar from a Deathclaw. More often survivors had something missing.

"This here's my best scar" The young woman partially undid her leather armor to lift the shirt beneath and show the scar on her toned belly. It was only a few bite marks, but they had come from one of her more memorable hunts. "Nightstalkers up by Lake Mead. I got it in the belly but Mary has some matching bites on her face." She replaced her clothing and started back into the gas station. "Still a looker though, don't get me wrong." She said with more than a little dreamy tone to her voice as she thought of the fierce woman.
 
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The Wanderer let his hand fall away from the scar. He felt it start to itch, all the way down to his navel. It always did, when he got to thinking about traipsing into that deathclaw den. His eyes flicked to his rifle. It was still there, and loaded. It never hurt to be sure.

"Bloody Mary, huh?" Mused the wanderer. "Maybe I'll stop by New Vegas on my way through. Though you NCR folks seem to take the cake for scar-stories, most days." He turned his eyes out over the darkening wasteland.

"I almost prefer hunting Deathclaws to hunting nightstalkers, if I'm going to be perfectly honest. Those things give me the willies." He shuddered, scooting his rump back against the shell of the once-nuclear-powered car. He found himself grinning across the fire to darcy. "Some big man I must be," He mused, "Scared of a trumped-up coyote. All folks have their fears, though. Were you and she huntin' 'em together? The nightstalkers, I mean."
 
"Mary was showing me the ropes of the trade." Darcy said from the entrance of the gas station, leaning in the doorway and, like Alex, took the moment to admire the wasteland as twilight came upon it. She breathed in the crisp and dry Mojave air.

"I had just come back after my tour was up, looking for any work a former soldier could get, and wound up on a hunting tour of the Mojave." She sighed and turned her head in the direction of the NCR past Mojave Outpost "But things got rocky after President Kimball and General Oliver tried to wrangle up support for another push out this way; so I figured I'd hoof it back here and see how things were fairin'."
 
Alexander ran a hand back through his curly hair, letting his eyes slide closed to take in the sounds of the wasteland. Somewhere nearby, critters chirped. It brought a smile to his face. "I can't rightly recall a time where things weren't rocky for one reason or another. Even still, I make myself scarce when I see recruiters. Most of the NCR folks are decent people. Better them than Legion, anyway. Even so, I've got no notion of gettin' press-ganged into territory wars."

Open came his eyes, turning down to stare longingly at the dregs of his can of beans. "You thinkin' 'bout re-enlistin'?" He asked. "Nosy sort of question. I'm full of 'em tonight, it seems."
 
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