arboreal_priestess (
arboreal_priestess) wrote2019-05-30 12:39 pm
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From the Causeway to Washington DC, Thursday Afternoon
This was not the first time on Fandom that Verity had been glad her apartment could double as an armory, but it might have been the most acute. This week had been ridiculous, from fighting off a radroach invasion in their kitchen to the heart attack that had been discovering that the colony of Aeslin mice had been replaced by a colony of Aeslin mole-rats.
Nightmare fuel was walking into a room of giant mole-rats and hearing them talk to you, in case anybody needed a shot of that real quick. (Nobody needed a shot of that. Nobody.)
They also ate a lot more than Aeslin mice normally did and even though they supplemented their diet by eating pretty much any other creature they could find, the food levels in the Kincaid-Price household had gone from 'dangerously low' to 'practically non-existant' over night.
Which was why Liam and Verity had decided to strap on pretty much every single weapon they owned and head into the Wasteland to scavenge the remains of D.C. Supposedly, that was where the best remaining supplies were located.
Supposedly, that was where the most dangerous predators in the Wasteland were located, too. And most of them walked on two legs.
That was a problem they'd deal with when they got to it.
"All right," Verity said, securing another rusty container of bobby pins and her spare screwdriver. "We ready to head out?"
[Open to anyone who wants to join Liam and Verity on a scavenging expedition. Be prepared to self-NPC!]
Nightmare fuel was walking into a room of giant mole-rats and hearing them talk to you, in case anybody needed a shot of that real quick. (Nobody needed a shot of that. Nobody.)
They also ate a lot more than Aeslin mice normally did and even though they supplemented their diet by eating pretty much any other creature they could find, the food levels in the Kincaid-Price household had gone from 'dangerously low' to 'practically non-existant' over night.
Which was why Liam and Verity had decided to strap on pretty much every single weapon they owned and head into the Wasteland to scavenge the remains of D.C. Supposedly, that was where the best remaining supplies were located.
Supposedly, that was where the most dangerous predators in the Wasteland were located, too. And most of them walked on two legs.
That was a problem they'd deal with when they got to it.
"All right," Verity said, securing another rusty container of bobby pins and her spare screwdriver. "We ready to head out?"
[Open to anyone who wants to join Liam and Verity on a scavenging expedition. Be prepared to self-NPC!]
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Some of the noises she heard echoing up from her sink had been downright unsettling.
"I wouldn't say no to more medical supplies. And weapons. The more we have the fewer other people do."
Verity trusted her people, even the ones she didn't really know. It was everyone else in this Wasteland she was skeptical about.
"And fuck, if you find coffee? I don't even know."
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But, she nodded. "But basically, everything that's even remotely useful, because the island had barely anything. Got it."
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Sure, the mutfruit was supposed to be healthy, but Verity still felt safer sticking to the expired-for-literal-centuries pre-boxed food.
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"Yeah." She nodded, glancing brieflt up at the metal sticks. (Those looked good for stabbing. She approved.) "I brought bags, we can bring back as much as we can carry."
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"Good," she said, nodding. "How are you on weapons? Have enough?"
Well. 'Enough.' That wasn't really a concept in an irradiated hellscape.
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Verity was going to be seeing her throw her sword at something or someone today, for sure.
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"Any good with guns?" she asked, giving the sword an approving nod.
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She shook her head. "No," she said. "Guns are more my brother's thing. I never bothered to learn."
He'd learned guns on the Ark, she'd learned blades down on the ground. It worked the same as all their other key differences.
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It was clearly meant to be a joke, but her tone didn't really make it sound like it.
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...Was that a joke?
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She was... uncomfortably comfortable with violence. (Wherein it was uncomfortable for everyone else.)
"Huh. Fair point."
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And traps. So many traps.
Fortunately for Verity, a bloatfly took that moment to buzz up, angling its stinger at them. Verity barely seemed to aim before squeezing off a shot - and it did explode in a gout of blood and gore.
The Wasteland was uniquely suited to backing up that kind of comment. It was like some kind of perk!
"See what I mean?"
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She raised her eyebrows. Didn't smile, not quite, but there was something brighter about her expression. Maybe.
The weirdo.
"Okay," she said, nodding. "I guess that's a point in guns' favor."
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She was carrying sets of both on her, it should be noted.
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"I always get my sword back."
Yes, that did actually imply exactly what you maybe thought it was implying, Verity.
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THAT WASN'T WHAT SWORDS WERE FOR, OCTAVIA.
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"Yes?"
It was only a question because Octavia combined answering in the affirmative with wondering whether it merited that much of an eyebrow raise.
"I mean, I don't use it just as a throwing weapon." No, she was very good at slashing and stabbing as well.
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"Yeah."
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(This wasn't her wasteland. This wasn't her wasteland. This wasn't her -- anyway.)
"But that first thing shouldn't be a problem."
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Look, she didn't really like killing, especially not of creatures that were just trying to survive. But when its survival put hers in jeopardy, well...wasn't really a contest.