New Vegas: Blood Ties

"I'm not that bothered by the powder gangers, they seem like the sort of guys that wouldn't bother you if you didn't bother them, mind Novac looks like a nice place, I just don't want somewhere that's that close to the frontier".

Tom lay down on the hard ground and looked up at the stars for the second time that night. He was starting to get really tired now.
 
“Anyone with lots of access to explosives is someone I’d want to stay away from.” She leaned against a rock and poked at a hole in the leg of her pants. “Actually, that’s something I do want to do once this is over.” She said, more to herself than to Tom. “Buy some damn new clothes.”
 
Tom smiled at the concept, he had these clothes and armour since the capital wasteland, and you could just vaguely see the talon company symbol on the chest pad, "Yeah, i've had these for a while, but i'd never get rid of them, it reminds me of good times".
 
Yasmin half smiled and stared at the hole. "All this reminds me of is that I got shot and I need to shave my legs."
 
"Huh, I haven't had a shave in a while as you may have noticed", he put his hand across his rough neck and chin, "Is it likely we'll make bunker-fall about tomorrow?".
 
She looked over at the bright lights of the strip and the glowing phallic tower. “Given how far we’ve gotten today? Probably not. Though we should definitely get there by the next day.” She wiggled around and tried to get comfortable, though not even slightly tired. “I just hope we come across some body of water somewhere. I’m already covered in dirt and sand.”
 
"Well, Lake Mead is just over that way" Tom pointed east, "It isn't that far away, and the water isn't irradiated, just avoid the lakelurks".
 
She looked the way he was pointing. "Hmm, not sure if it's worth the time or the danger. I don't need a whole lake. Just enough to get me clean. But that can all wait till after we get this job done. zIt's my priority right now."
 
"I was just suggesting it, plus the main reason I was thinking of the lake is that if we ever need water", Tom started closing his eyes, he noticed no one was sleeping yet, Tom didn't care now, he had barely any sleep the night previous. He closed his eyes and wriggled up against a rock as to get as much comfort and warmth as possible, the Mojave was chilly at night.
 
David sat down and carried a seven point check on his carbine, before taking out the mag and putting it in his US army jacket pocket. He grabbed the cocking handle and pulled it back, causing the carbine to eject a round. He picked it up and put it in his pocket. He took out his pistol. It was a 9mm pistol, a gift from his father upon his joining up in the infantry.

He scratched his chin. 4 years ago he was a clean shaven facist soldier. Now he was a merc with nowhere to go. And a grudge to finish. He had promised to be sentry. He watched over the plains, and towards New Vegas. He took a piece of brahmin meat from his kit bag. It was raw, and there was no fire to cook it with. He still bit into it anyway. Th radiated meat was probably clean of any bacteria, the same radiation that made it slightly dangerous also sterilizing it. He swallowed and continued to eat it.
 
"No thanks. I'd never eat insects."
He whittled away until the peel was gone from his apple and ate it. He waited until his instamash was done and ate it right up.
He pulled his bottle of scotch and 2 drinking glasses out of his duffle bag and poured half the bottle into the glasses.
He walked over to Yasmine and handed her a glass.
"You looked a little cold. Thought some scotch might warm you up."
He raised his glass.

"Cheers."
 
Yasmin raised her eyebrows in surprise. “I was just grudging myself for not remembering any.” She took the glass and said “Thanks.” before swallowing it in one go and handing it back.

She felt much better now with the liquor heating her up from the inside and the fire on the outside. Though that didn’t surprise her. Liquor made just about anything in the wasteland easier to bear.
 
Brad gulped his scotch too.
"So... This may sound kind of odd, but what's your opinions on the great khans?"
Brad cleaned his boots immeadiately after Carib's observation so no one would know he was a khan.
 
She look at him, puzzled. “Er, I don’t really have one. They are just wanting power like everyone else. The majority live out in the desert at Red Rock and I never go out there, so I don’t really know any personally, good fighters though. Though I do think they are partially responsible for enabling those psychopath Fiends, I guess everybody has to make a living. Why?”
 
Never eat insects, Carib was stricken dumb-founded by that statement. Insects were not only tasty (if prepared right), but also had one of the highest concentrations of protein. 80% protein,that was more protein in a well prepared brahmin steak or big horner. It must be nice being able to choose what you dine on.

He cracked the leg open and added it to his caravan lunch.

Carib was hearing the conversation on the Fiends and he felt the dark passenger whisper. Fist clenching, he took a deep breath and le it go. He hated the Fiends. He didn't like the Khans either, but the Khans were just a rough bunch. And after Bittersprings, he understood why they hated NCR just a little more.

He watched Brad intently. Brad knew David and Carib had both made the connection to Red Rock Canyon. Carib didn't really care about his affiliation.

Carib handed a piece of grilled mantis leg to Yasmin, "It's got a wine flavor to it and its not irradiated."
 
~Why is everyone feeding me?~ Yasmin thought to herself as she took it and sniffed at it.

Mantis didn’t seem bad to her – nowhere near as bad as roaches – but they still didn’t look like the type of thing she wanted to eat. But it was Carib whom she was starting to trust, and she did love wine (though it got her legless too fast, so she refrained from drinking it mostly) so she decided not to refuse eating a small mouthful of the meat.

He was right. It was subtle, but it was there. A slight wine taste. She smiled and handed the rest back, already full from her own meal.

“You know, I really wouldn’t have believed it, but you’re right. It doesn’t taste that bad. Thanks. Though I don’t know if I’d make a habit of eating them, I won’t turn my nose up at it either.”

With a belly full of scotch and food, she felt better about what had happened before, though looking over at the Lt through the group that had congregated around her fire, she wasn't sure if he did. Sure, he was a barrel of nerves and she wasn't confident how he might handle a fire fight, but sitting there, very slightly intoxicated, with a group of men who were being friendly, her compassion started waking up. She didn't want him sitting there by himself.

“Lt.” She called out to him. “Come over here.”

She’d picked her little spot with her little fire to be alone, but since they’d all decided to come over, looks like that wasn’t going to happen. And she was ok with that. They’d just need to build it up a bit more to accommodate everyone else.
 
Carib smiled at Yasmin, yes she was definitely like his little sister. He, of course, would guard this secret for as long as he could. Getting up, he walked towards David who was holding the first watch of the night. "I got you," he made sure the merc could see him. After all, he didn't want to get a bullet in his gut for starling the man, even though he had armor, he didn't want to test it.

"You can take some shut eye, I can watch for a few hours." Carib wasn't sure what to make of the man. He was obviously military; you just had to watch him talk or see his slight gestures. They were slight, but they were there, Carib would set his watch and warrant on it. He was sure back East was thick with militias. When time permitted for small talk, Carib would ask about the militias of the east and what wonders and terrors lay beyond the Great Divide.
 
Tom was lying down on the floor next to Yamsin, he was still awake. He looked around a bit, and he heard Brad mention the Khans, he looked up at Brad who was standing over Yasmin who was right near to him. Even though the question wasn't directed at him he decided to answer it, "Khans? Bunch of fucktards, I hate the lot of them, I know some of them are trying to leave their raider background behind, but in the back of my mind I can't help but think that they used to be raiders, twats the lot of them".
 
"No insects?" Mark thought to himself "And I thought I was the one with the fancy tastes. I wonder if filet mignon and custard for desert would be enough for him, although the closest looking thing in the wasteland would probably be a dog's thurd and radscorpion vomit."

He then remembered an old joke about a recipe for giant rat, saute or fricassee. For saute you take the freshly shaved rat, and you marinade it in a puddle for a while... until it's drowned. Then you stretch it out under a hot light bulb, then you get within dashing distance of the latrine, and then you scoff it right down. Fricassee was exactly the same, just a slightly bigger rat. He didn't doubted to tell this joke to Carib while they were dinning.

When he herd his friend thanking him, Mark stopped him. "No way, you don't need to thank me at all, I'll be damned before letting anyone, much less a fellow NCR soldier, a Ranger, rot in one of those stinking crosses... Damned things give me the creeps, I can't stand them... and I can't stand seeing anyone up on one of those things... except for Caesar maybe, he could try a some of his own medicine for a change."

When Yasmin called him, Mark put his helmet back on and slung the carbine on his shoulder. He was running on basics now, and felt like back when he was just a private. Countless times did his drill sergeant made him crawl to his rifle and back because he had forgotten to pick it up, until his thick skull finally learned to take his rifle with him at all times, to eat, to take a dump, even to sleep, the rifle must always be at his one's side, but only after bleeding his elbows out he made an habit out of it.

He walked up to Yasmin and stood next to her, like waiting for his orders.

OOC: EDIT: Added dialog with Carib.
 
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