@wanderswastes said: “You sleep. I'll keep watch.” - Charon

       sleep couldn't be further from her grasp. she glances at charon, gripping the straps of her backpack harder to fight the mentats-induced shaking of her hands. as usual, she can't read his expression. she wonders if he knows how to smile, or if he's forgotten somewhere along the way. is he even allowed to smile, if she doesn't order it so?

the more she thinks about it, the more this whole thing makes her a little uncomfortable, but she supposes it's better than leaving him with ahzrukhal. eliana just hopes that he doesn't make a habit of turning his employers into gore splatters.

elora opens her mouth to respond but cuts herself short; brows drawing together as a frown tug at her lips. " why not now? " she mumbles under her breath, holstering her 10mm as she half-heartedly kicks at some small rocks as they walk their way to freeside.

how was she supposed to know that the person that they walked by wasn't a threat?

she glances at six, nose scrunching as she does. " i was trying to help. "

elias is sure that six is right, no one should; but it is par for the course, unfortunately. many people, inside &. outside of the new california republic are scarred by the things that they've seen &. experienced.

elias included.

they wished that things were easier than they are, but they doubt things will ever be easy unless there is some way to escape the world itself. they shift in their seat, moving the food on their plate from the camp mccarran cafeteria with a quiet sigh. " you're right, but not many people have a choice in the matter. "

uniform clad arms have thus far been folded across his chest. a slight straightening of his spine further puctuating already perfect posture, as either angled brow shoots upward. head turned minutely as the officer directs his attention from the delapitated building that was currently under consideration, to regard the woman to his direct left. "a most illogical statement, madam. however, i do understand its premise." his eyes are slightly squinted from the direct sunlight, however perhaps not as much as would a typical human. the radiating heat much welcomed, considering vulcan is a dry, arid, desert world.

of course, there are often times where a complete plan was unable to be formed - especially where the captain was concerned. as there were, implied within the very nature of their task, many unknown variables that could not always be accounted for. and experience had demonstrated that the captain was often willing to proceed despite such uncertainty. spock habitually obligated to agree. forced to acknowledge that kirk's tendency to indulge his impulses are percicely the reason for the merit of his command. and this particular situation, seemed much in the same vein. for the facts remained unchanged. the communications device necessitated materials presently located within that very structure. so consequently, said structure would have to be cleared.

"nevertheless, i am not currently aware of any suitable alternative." his voice tapers off to a low rumble. hand gripping at his tricorder, and bringing it upward from where it rests upon his hip. "sensor readings indicate approximately twenty life forms - fourteen human, six canine. likely what you refer to as 'raiders'. however, external factors could be comprimising data accuracy." eyes raise back to survey the outer perimeter.

he raises a hand, sweeping upward from where he retires his scanning device. palm upward, as dark eyes find her anew. "shall we proceed?"

@wanderswastes ( deacon ) said : let's not make this complicated.

                  IT'S  NOT  THAT  SHE  HADN'T  EXPECTED  skepticism  from  anyone  who  was  connected  to  the  railroad .  it's  that  she's  so  tired  of  question  after  question  after  question .  she  hates  the  thought  of  still  being  associated  with  the  brotherhood ,  with  the  idea  of  genocide .  had  she  known  exactly  what  they  stood  for ,  she  would  have  never  joined  to  begin  with .  she  had  been  sold  a  dream  of  protecting  the  world ,  saving  human  kind  from  itself ,  preserving  the  technology  of  the  past  so  that  it  couldn't  fall  INTO  THE  WRONG  HANDS  again .  though …  now  that  she's  taken  of  the  rose  colored  glasses ,  she  wonders  if  the  brotherhood  would  have  just  dropped  bombs  on  the  synths  if  that  had  ever  become  an  option .  hadn't  that  been  what  got  them  here  in  the  first  place ?  vault - tec  getting  far  too  comfortable  with  its  status  in  the  world  and  thinking  they  could  stop  nuclear  war  from  doing  its  damage .  

but  HISTORY  ALWAYS  REPEATS  itself .  

she's  tired  of  making  the  trek  to  beacon  hill  every  time  she  wants  to  communicate  with  the  railroad .  she  understands  that  she  hasn't  proven  herself  yet ,  but  that  didn't  mean  they  couldn't  change  it  up  a  little  bit .  if  she  kept  coming  here ,  she's  sure  that  the  brotherhood  would  get  a  smell  of  something  weird  going  on .  she's  always  worried  that  she'll  be  followed  and  then  WHOEVER  SHE  MEETS  WILL  BE  FOLLOWED .  and  then  the  entire  point  of  her  trying  to  help  the  railroad  is  tossed  out  the  window  and  she's  probably  labeled  a  traitor  by  both .  so ,  yeah …  she's  kind  of  tired  of  beacon  hill .  tired  of  the  same  traders ,  the  same  jerks ,  the  same  little  girl  who  just  won't  shut  up  about  her  mom  being  the  surgeon .  it's  almost  like  clockwork  she  can  predict  who  is  going  to  be  there ,  what  caravan  is  going  to  complain  about  the  accommodations ,  and  some  other  trader  acting  like  they're  the  only  ones  in  the  world  WITH  SOME  PLASMA  CARTRIDGES  when  they  litter  the  ground  everywhere  she  goes .

at  least  this  time  she's  begged  to  meet  at  the  top  of  the  central  tower .  it  may  have  been  a  bit  of  a  hike  up  too  many  stairs ,  but  the  view  was  worth  it .  even  more  worth  it  was  the  surety  that  no  one  could  listen  in .  she's  doing  her  best  to  prove  herself .  her  best  to  show  that  she's  an  asset ,  that  she  means  exactly  what  she  says .  so  she  sits  there …  coded  holotape  in  hand  that  would  lead  the  railroad  to  a  synth  family  being  TARGETED  BY  THE  BROTHERHOOD .  it  would  give  them  a  head  start ,  a  fighting  chance  to  get  there  before  the  elimination  squad  showed  up .  but  somehow  it  still  didn't  seem  to  be  enough .

" what  makes  it  so  complicated ?  how  many  operations  have  i  helped  break  up ?  how  many  synths  have  i  pointed  you  in  the  direction  of ? "  a  huff  as  she  hands  over  the  holotape  before  crossing  her  arms  and  leaning  back  in  the  only  chair  on  the  landing .  " i  am  risking  my  butt  EVERY  TIME  I  MEET  YOU .  but ,  you ,  master  of  disguise ?  you've  got  a  different  look  every  time  i  see  you .  i  can't  exactly  change  my  face  if  the  brotherhood  decides  to  figure  out  why  i'm  spending  so  much  time  in  beacon  hill  when  there  is  literally  nothing  special  here .  i  just  want  to  know  if  it's  ever  gonna  be  enough  to  prove  that  i  want  nothing  to  do  with  the  brotherhood . "

　 　𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 to stay out of people's affairs if she wasn't specifically hired to help them. after all, many in the wasteland would rather die of stubbornness than accept help from a stranger seeing as either party could end up shot and killed. but even in her years of going back and forth, helping those desperate enough to seek her out and knowing when to keep moving and when to approach, she couldn't help but feel a certain impulse to step in and offer what she could.

　 　if this got her killed, she'd make sure to spend her last moments cursing her bleeding heart. but for now, she tucked her gun in her jacket and approached slowly. ' ...are you alright over there? '

"what's that supposed to mean?" ramona bites back, her nose scrunching up while she pouts. she folds her arms across her chest & stomps once, the dirt on the broken asphalt explodes into the air with a cloud. "am i really that hard to trust or do you think i'm going to slow you down? i'll have you know i've got nothing but good reviews from my clients, whether they need someone to guard them or deliver a package." sometimes she does mercenary work & sometimes she's a thief. it seems, at the moment, she & cait have to work together to deliver a letter from diamond city to goodneighbor. quite a trek but not one ramona isn't willing to take, especially since the pay is good.

"i'll split the caps with ya, if that helps... i know nora isn't around, at the moment, but i promise you i can hold my own just fine, but you know, two pairs of hands are better than one. would it help if i offered you a drink at the third rail afterward? it'll be my treat, especially with the caps i'll get after this."

"some med-x & a bottle of whiskey," ramona answers, as she changes the bloodied bandage on her arm, her stitches were neatly sewed, thankfully with enough practice, she manages to stitch up any wounds with ease. "i like to think both would help me cope with the pain." a cigarette already dangles from her lips, unlit, but she will get to it in a moment. maybe she didn't need anything for the pain though, maybe she just needed to be fucked up out of her mind so she can relax & chill to some betty hutton.

ramona pushes a strand of black hair away from her clear blue eyes, the end of her cigarette is stained with lipstick, & tiny specks of blood decorate her tank top, but it's difficult to see due to its color. she's learned wearing black is great to hide the stains of crimson. "i have a room here in diamond city -- you'd think they'd let me get drunk off my ass & sleep the rest of the week away? i hope so. dealing with those fiends was exhausting, but i managed to beat their head into a bloody pulp. do you smoke? i can bum you a stick if ya like."