"Oh. Uh, ‘kay. I’ll look for… that. Stuff I kin carry."
He drifted away from Redwood some, spreading out to increase the range of their search. Some of the rooms they passed through appeared to have been picked over already, but the deeper they got the more untouched things were. Following Redwood’s cue, he opened a desk and began to rummage though. He was pleased to find a few pieces of that strange paper-y Old World money inside. Huh. To the right trader, that would be worth something!
He continued his search, coming up with a modest amount of loot. Not amazing, but far better than his usual luck. It occurred to him that he could buy something awful nice with the caps he’d get from all of this. A new gun, perhaps. One that wasn’t half-broke, even! Food and medical supplies enough to last him for two weeks! Ammo!
…But he couldn’t. Because he had to share. He glanced at Redwood, suddenly not so happy to have him around.
"Didja find much yet?" Frank asked, his tone slightly irritable. But then his eyes drifted over to the glowing containment cylinder. "Hey! Izzat a robot in there?" He took a step back, afraid. "D-d’ya think it… can it see us?"
“Frank, you ass, it’s inside the cylinder meaning it’s deactivated for now.”
Redwood kept his voice down. However, his voice did carry a level of irritation and frustration. Yet again Ares knew Frank didn’t know any better from any other Hick. Redwood also sees what Frank has collected, he’ll give frank that much credit, he’s a scavenger at a good habit.
“Here come along.”
Redwood walks over their however, with some caution. Looking into the cylinder he sees what’s a standard issue of Protectron. Standard enough for security and factory works. He sees another one also within its stasis cylinder.
Redwood turns and sees some electronics and even some ammo. Redwood walks quickly over towards the bench and grabs the items of interest. They looked reasonably good for a fair price from any good trader.
Redwood turns to Frank. Then back to the cylinders.
“Let’s see we can’t get these open here and now.”
Redwood rest upon his knees trying to calm down from a recent episode. He breathes heavily while gripping his hands. He shakes with fear almost like he was there again.
He slowly says a few words.
Why must you hang your head in shame like that? To her, there was no shame for him to bare. He was a good friend, a protector. She seeked solace in him as he did her. She returned the gentle grasp, opposite hand reaching out to gently cup his chin, as if to lift it.
"It isn’t your fault."
Redwood was calming down. Some shakes however, he was calming down while regaining himself. He stands upwards and straightens out. Brushes his uniform off from the dust. However, he was still pale from the incident that happened.
colonel-ares-ta-redwood started following you
Ay! *Whistles loudly.* You’re scaring the customers, Ranger.
Ares looks over towards the whistling women.
“I’m no Ranger. Let’s leave it to that.”
[Redwood turns around quickly and unholsters his pistol. With such Wild West swagger he fired away at the cyborg.]
For the next 5 hours, my muse cannot lie about a n y t h i n g.
In character or not, anon or not, ask my muse whatever you want! Secret habits, diary entries, love interests, humiliating questions about their childhood, ANYTHING.
[Frank took another step back. He was definitely afraid now. He reached for the holster at his belt, not drawing his weapon yet but getting into position if needed.]
"N-no need f-fer… n-no need fer bein’ v-violent…" [He stammered, his voice breaking. He swallowed.] "I-I was… D-didn’t know ya were a g-gh… one a’ them…”
[Redwood reached for his pistol. However, he would pull his piece yet.]
“What’s wrong scum fuck, you losing you’re grip? I’ll fucking rip you’re hillbilly head off and punt it.”
[Redwood’s anger starts falling down however, slowly.]
“You better shut up about Ghouls. You better learn to hold your tongue.”
The Statesman Towers at Indiana State University. Formerly the School of Business and the School of Education, and dorms from 1968 until 1977 and 1981. Have sat vacant since spring of 2012.
He narrows his eyes on what he sees as an NCR Ranger, dogs growling as he reaches for his trophy bowie knife.
"I have been a legionnaire since I was sixteen. I haven’t counted the years since. Any special reason you want to die, Ranger? Because you just approached the wrong foot soldier…”
The Colonel didn’t enjoy the comment nor the mistake. He didn’t particularly enjoy he’s colors nor what idea he follows. His hand follows to his pistol while staring down the man.
“I’m no Ranger however; I’ll shove a size nine combat boot up your ass. You go ahead and try you damn savage.”
The trod of footsteps made his eyes snap open. How could he have not seen anyone approaching? Whatever the creature was, he may not have noticed him yet. Quietly, he shifted onto his knees and peered over the hood of the car to get a better look.
Instantly, Lazaro noticed he wore a helmet that shrouded any evidence of the man’s face- dead giveaway that this could be bad. If that was how it was gonna go, he didn’t want to be caught off guard.
"Hey, man." He called out to the figure nearby. "I don’t suppose you’re lookin’ for Novac, are ya?" His tone was light and non-threatening.
Ares was somewhat startled from his greeting. However, Redwood rest easy that at least bullets weren’t flying. However, he kept that thought in mind about any danger.
“I was heading for Novac.”
Redwood said with a natural tone. He remained where he stands, not wanting the man to be on edge. Redwood looks over towards the long road slightly. Then back over towards the man.
“You need directions?”