[M] Fallout: Northwest (Blazing Falcons & Cfavano)

[Blazing Falcons]

The Drunk Radcat was a busy bar situated in Red Lodge, Montana. Sparrow Reyes pushed the door open stepped in with a backpack full of animal pelts and meat. He walked right up to the bar and said, "I got a couple of bobcats this time. Trade you the entire pelt of one of them for a bottle of top shelf scotch or whiskey. And I mean quality stuff. Not crap that you stuck on the top shelf after watering it down with whatever's coming out of that sink." The bartender grabbed the nearest bottle of scotch that he could and placed it in front of Sparrow. "You know this stuff is all the same and there's no such thing as 'top shelf' booze left."

Sparrow stepped away from the bar and started for the door, "Right, well, you hold on to that, I'll come back with caps." He sold his pelts and the spare meat and, as he said, returned to the Radcat. "Scotch." he said as he dropped some caps on the counter. He took the bottle and took a seat in a darker corner of the bar. His back was to the wall and he was able to survey nearly the entire building from where he sat.

Reyes was a heavily armed man for someone who was drifting, paying his way through trapping ever since leaving New Vegas. A revolver on his left hip, cross-draw style. A short shotgun on his thigh, which pointed nicely at anyone he might find sitting across from him. On his back, an army checkpoint carbine. There was a Bowie knife sheathed on his belt. He wore a black cowboy hat, a long-sleeved, red-and-black plaid flannel shirt, black pants, and a black SWAT vest worn by members of the pre-war Helena PD.

Reyes stood out among those at the Radcat. He stood out because he was ready for a fight but never looked for one. Unlike the two drunk patrons that looked like they were about to start trading blows near the front door. It was going to storm that night. Reyes could tell because of a piece of shrapnel that doctors couldn't remove from his leg. The pain in it was sharp, and Reyes could tell that it would be a powerful storm. To offset the weather update in his leg, Reyes started taking longer drinks from his bottle of scotch, hoping to get sleepy and hurry the morning's arrival along.

[Cfavano]

Suddenly, the doors of the Drunk Radcat were thrown open and wit ha blare of music followed by a tanned man of average musculature dressed in combat armor with the blue and yellow of a vault suit. On his head was a trilby, and he had a shiny pip-boy on his wist. He did not appear to be armed apart from a fancy looking sword. Surveying the crowd before him, he smiled.

He strode toward the bar confidently and casually...not turning off his music. Leaning against the bar, he lights a cigarette an say to the barkeep, "Hey, man, lay on me one of those atomic cocktails, and some medium-cooked Yo Guai ribs. I got a mighty hunger after making all these caps, ya dig?" He says, puffing his cigarette into the air.

[Blazing Falcons]

Reyes's hopes for a peaceful night of drinking were dashed by what by all appearances was a vault-dweller who must've been fresh out of the ground. His vault must not have had a no-smoking policy like the Radcat. "Put that out! I got a condition with my lungs!" a patron who was drinking at the bar shouted. "Not to mention the no-smoking policy I've got set up here..." The bartender, who was a friend of the man who'd just yelled, said while pointing to a sign right next to all the bottles and in the window. The sign in the window read "No smokig", but the one behind the barkeep was spelled properly.

Reyes swirled his bottle in his hand, and said loud enough that people could hear him if they paid attention, "A braggart does swagger with blade, telling of fortunes made." The vault dweller had clearly upset one patron, annoyed the owner of the Radcat, and not-so-clearly annoyed Reyes. The patron with the lung condition had trouble with his anger after drinking, if someone had to get hurt, Reyes wanted to make sure it was the one who started up the trouble in the first place. "Do tell vault-boy, why go about bragging about your wealth? America ain't what it used to be, bit more violent these days. People could go off on you for anything." Reyes said. He shifted in his seat, ready to bolt out of the booth he was sitting at if needed.

[Cfavano]

"Alright, Alright, It's out." He says, dropping it in a fellow patron's drink with a hiss. The patron turns to him, and The vault boy turns to the patron.
"That was my drink, vault-shit." Says the man
"I am aware." Says Vault-boy, unfazed with that innocent smile still on his face.
"You buying another?" Says the man, has hand on a pipe wrench at his hip.
"I don't think so, by the way, is your name Jebediah Marsh?" Replies the seemingly soon to be clobered boy.
"Yeah, why?" Jeb says as he draws his wrench.
"Nancy says hi." He says as, quicker than anyone realized, a 10mm pistol was in his hand, pointed at Jeb's chest. He didn't even have time to reply before a bullet ripped through his chest. The bang was deafening ass Jeb slumped to the ground, even as the shell clanged to the ground. For good measure, he put another in is chest.

No one saw him move.

[Blazing Falcons]

"Son of a bitch..." Reyes mouthed. His body had begun to spring out of the booth, but froze mid-way after witnessing how fast the vault dweller had shot Jeb. The man with the lung condition, Toon Beck, a retired member of the town's unofficial police, drew a worn .44 magnum revolver and demanded that the vault dweller drop his weapon. Reyes used that time to shift his position so that he was laying on the seat of the booth with the table covering much of his body at the vault dweller's angle. If he tried to shoot anyone else, Reyes or Toon would blow his head off. "Do as he says!" Reyes commanded. "Set it down on the bar, slowly. I mean it. This 44's got a hair trigger. Ray, take it as soon as it touches the bar." Toon told the barkeep. "After that's done, Reyes, you grab his sword." Toon then addressed the vault dweller again, "And after that, you're going to tell us what the hell that was about."

[Cfavano]

"Woah woah woah, no need to be alarmed, my good folk." He says, holding his hands up. "I am nothing if not a loyal servant of the law. And thee is no need to have someone disarm me. I can do it myself." He says, placin the pistol on the bar, "I'd like that back soon, by the way." And one hand going to his belt buckle. With a twist, the sword fell off his belt to the ground. It must have been magnetised. With that hand, he takes out a small folded up paper and hands it to Toon.

Opening it, he wold find it is wanted poster, bearing the seal of the NCR, with a picture and description identical, almost, to the man who was shot. the name was the same as well. "I am a duly authorized bounty hunter operating on behalf of the New California Republic." He says, his hands up. "He is wanted for twenty-seven rapes, fourteen counts of raiding merchant caravans, and for selling state secrets to the now defunct Legion. You will see that he is wanted dead or alive, though more alive. I felt he was worth enough dead, especially considering the...severity of his crimes. Its also easier to transport him. Now, may I take my weapons and his head ad go?"

[Blazing Falcons]

Toon studied the wanted paper for a few moments and then tossed it aside. "NCR's got no jurisdiction here." Toon said, "But Jeb was trash, I always felt he was running from something. Guess he was running from a lot. Alright Ray, give him his gun back." Toon concluded. "If you're planning on taking only the head with you back to NCR, you best take the rest of him out of town with you." Toon said, holstering his pistol. "You shot him, he's your responsibility; nobody in town wants to clean up your mess."

Reyes took interest in the mention of NCR. "That's quite a distance to travel after one man, especially out of NCR territory." he said. "They doing any archaeological stuff as of late? Looking into pre-war records, sort of stuff? Or are they still focused on taxing the last cap out of everyone unfortunate enough to fall within their territory?"

[Cfavano]

"Oh, I planned on it, sir, I would never leave a body in a place like this, not good for the health and all." With that, he tips his hat to the sheriff. And with that, he turns to Reyes. "I would not know, I've not had any contact with them. I got the notice off a Crimson Caravan trading post about two days south. From there I asked around. He was said to be squatting here, so here I came." With that, he grabs his weapons and tips his hat before taking the notice. "Well, it was good meeting ll of you, toodles."

With that, he begins dragging Jeb out the door, and out of town.

[Blazing Falcons]

Toodles? Reyes turned it over in his head a few times. Maybe I ought to let him freeze in the storm. Or he might just make it back alive and I'll have to hear him go on about frostbite or not being told that a storm was coming. Reyes decided he didn't want to chance one of the latter, and followed the vault dweller outside. "Hey! Vault-boy!" he called, "I got a piece of shrapnel in my leg that's telling me a big storm's rolling in tonight! Maybe leave Jed out there for the night and you stay in town and wait for the storm to blow over!"

He didn't bother to wait for a response, he went back inside the Radcat and returned to his drink. The wind was picking up, some gusts slamming against the walls of the buildings, others howling through alleys or whistling through holes between doors and doorways. Reyes hoped to get a room that was as air-tight as possible. No time like the present. "Ray, if you give me the quietest room, I'll pay you thirty caps to your usual twenty." Being a business man, there was no chance that Ray would turn the offer down. He picked up the key and awaited the caps to appear in his hand before handing it over. Reyes paid forty caps and asked for another bottle of scotch. With room key and new bottle in hand, he returned to his booth and returned to his drinking. Get a little drunk to dull the pain in his leg, and get a good night's sleep. That's all he wanted from the rest of the night, nothing more, nothing less.