- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per day
- One post per day
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- Advanced
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
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- Primarily Prefer Female
- Genres
- Modern, scifi, fantasy, le romance, really anything so long as the characters within are interesting
FALLOUT: RECLAMATION
A gentle breeze rolled through the crowd around the 188, a brief respite against the desert's heat that carried even through the shade of the overpass. It was a hectic scene, despite the NCR's efforts otherwise; barriers of sheet metal and old world signage had been erected to lead up to checkpoint manned by soldiers, where people signing up for the Flagstaff reclamation were being assessed and questioned, their belongings searched and catalogued, and either allowed through to the similar fenced off staging area to get ready to start the journey. This had been the same scene replayed over the last few days, and this was the final one before the Reclamation trail finally began. Brahmain were pulling carts filled with folks' entire worldy possessions, patrols kept around the fences with more manpower than they were actually going to have once they left, doing their best to ensure things at least started smoothly. But there was still the last day of applications to get through, and at least one person's entry wasn't going smoothly.
A woman in a brown leather jacket and a checkered shirt tied off above her midriff scrambled after another person in Ranger's gear, their helmet under their shoulder as they kept stone faced and moving forward. The woman was fit but slight, her shorter legs struggling to keep up with the walking pace of the taller ranger, with sandy brown hair pinned back in a pony-tail that spilled into curls behind her desperado hat. Despite her size she was armed to bear, a revolver in a holster on one hip, a pistol under the arm of the opposite side, and a rifle slung across her back along with a pack, and if one looked closely, they'd also see the sawed tip of a pair of shotgun barrels occasional peeking out from under the jacket. The ranger was taller, more built, their short cut and messy black hair tinged with just a few strands of grey. The lower left side of their face and what could be seen of their neck on that side looked like a dozen different people had taken a knife to it, but their calm and balanced gait left little to the idea that the scars were anything but superficial at this point. The woman finally jogged and rounded to the ranger's front,their free hand jabbing a finger into their chest as she argued her point
"I'm exactly what you're lookin for, Maeve, and you know it"
The ranger at least stopped moving and crossed their arms as they stared down at the woman.
"A problem?"
"A steady hand" Problem(?) answered, exasperated. "One that knows a bolt from a nut, a bullet from a case, an' a bot from a 'borg. Literally exactly what you're lookin for."
The ranger seemed unfazed. "Sure. All true. All useful to me. You know what isn't useful to me?" they asked as they leaned down. "Everything else you do. I'm not blowing my personnel budget for you to try to talk down some psycho raiders who run us down instead of just putting a bullet in them, or for you to get one put in you by some jealous wife. I'm not tying four thousand caps to a to-be-corpse, courier."
Courier(?) rolled her head up to look at the sky "Oh please. if that was gonna happen I'd already be swiss, darling."
"You definitely don't need any more holes. The lesser of the two problems anyways" Maeve shot back as they stopped leaning "You don't follow orders. Provenly."
That got Courier(?) to narrow her eyes "The khans left, didn't they? Just because I'm not some goose-steppin moron-"
"-Goodbye, Sally" Maeve turned on their heel and started back the other way, their eyes scanning the crowd and tuning Sally(!) out entirely. She watched them go, tapping her foot as a futile outlet for her frustration that curled her lips into a growl. This was proving harder than she thought. She just assumed the NCR would be happy to have someone help set the Mojave Express up in Flagstaff when they got there, but apparently they 'didn't want to give any of the hub companies a head start'. She had a feeling if it was anyone else starting that head they'd be having an easier time of it. The recruiter had suggested she take the standard package, the one that made her promise to stay in Flagstaff when she got there, as a settler. The word alone gave her the shivers, the idea practically made her want to heave; she didnt' do settling.
She supposed she could just go the other way; she just had to get outta Vegas, not the whole NCR. But there was something about this trip that… it itched at her, the idea of it. She'd been up and down the west, seen much most of it. East of the Colorado though, well… she'd gone, some. But not far, certainly not Flagstaff. With the fall of the legion, it was like a whole new piece of the world had opened up. She'd been born curious. She wanted to see it. Needed to, even.
Just had to figure out how the hell she was gettin there. Too bad no one needed a letter to Flagstaff. Like no one had some particularly racist uncle in the legion or somethin.
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Elsewhere, there were others, more than blank faces and dreamers heading east; people with a bit of the destiny to them, the sort that came outta vaults and didn't die to the first gecko or ended up in a shallow grave that didn't quite keep. Some were already signed up, some were having an easier time than Sal, and others were having it even harder. But they were all getting ready to head the same way.
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