#oldworldashes

"If you just hung around for more than a day or two, then maybe you'd hear somethin' of ours." Bluejay straighten up from his hunched position over the counter. It was obvious he was writing something currently, but placed the pencil in the tattered journal, closing it up. It wasn't ready... not quiet yet.

He stood up from the stool, stretching his arms behind himself, a lopsided smile forming before he turned away from Charlie to the fridge nearby.

"I got something special for ya. Been saving it. Threatened everyone with bodily harm should it suddenly turn up missing..." Bluejay pulled a bottle out setting it on the counter, the familiar rocket shaped bottle, the decidedly unfamiliar pale color and glow emitting from the beverage like a goddamn lightbulb.

"50 caps. You can't find these east of Texarkana. Had a fella a bit down on his luck, was looking to make a sale. I gave him a good offer, but the poor son of a bitch didn't know what he had."

"No. I mean, yes, I do feel better. I appreciate the explanation and... I'm sorry." Faraday nodded to Charlie, then looked to Hancock, speaking louder as the ghoul was a bit further away. "I'm sorry. I apologize. It's-- It was wrong of me to assume anything. Sorry!"

"Well... I'll just have to rely on my charm and wit. And maybe you could throw and punch and I'd inject them with Med-X. It's a downer, you know? Enough of that and it's ole beddy bye." West chuckled, playing with his short tower of chips at the black jack table in front of them, waiting for their dealer to come back after West spilled his beer on the man's glove.

He kept his voice low, of course. There were enough rumors about the Ultra Luxe to believe them to be true. And of course they were wildly out numbered. The only 'weapons' West had were whatever sharp enough objects were in his medical bag, which he had managed to convince them not to make him part with.