(no subject)

[calmhrtprevails]

The door opens on a vista of rocky landscape punctuated here and there by yellowed, rough-edged grass and low, scrubby brush. There's a hint of coolness on the breeze in the otherwise warming air, and a scent of distant rain. "We are," Fawkes rumbles, "some hours' distance from the Citadel. We're likely to stop at the town of Megaton first, and then make for the Arlington route the rest of the way."

Comments

[calmhrtprevails]

"In the old days," Fawkes says, "before the War, there were far more kinds here than survive today. I've read about them, but never seen most of them."

He nods off in another direction.

"Look, there- those are yao guai. Mutated bears, larger and more dangerous than those before the War. I don't think those two will attack us unless we threaten them, though."

[cantdiequiteyet]

"So we don't?" Teresa asks, just to be sure. As they walk forward, she watches them. "I guess they're just animals."

[calmhrtprevails]

"We have no reason to," says Fawkes. "Although their meat makes for good eating, we don't need it. There's no reason to exterminate them, for now."

[cantdiequiteyet]

Teresa nods, this time keeping her thoughts silent.

It's strange, though. She's used to attacking before she can be attacked. But animals and monsters are very clearly delineated in her world.

[calmhrtprevails]

"May I ask a question?" Fawkes says after a bit, the wasteland sun beginning to hammer down. "How long have the yoma of your world been a problem?"

[cantdiequiteyet]

Teresa tilts her head, honestly considering this question for a few seconds.

"Forever," she says simply. "For as long as we have recorded history."

[calmhrtprevails]

"You have my sympathies, then," says Fawkes. "And all your people. That can't have been easy."

[cantdiequiteyet]

Again, Teresa is silent for a moment before she speaks, trying to figure out where he's coming from with these sentiments.

"It's just how the world is," she says.

[calmhrtprevails]

"I suppose so," says Fawkes. "I had wondered, because of the nature of my- of our mission. We're going to exterminate the source of all my kind, so that those who remain are the last ones left. It had me wondering about whether other worlds that suffered such evils could ever be freed of them."

[cantdiequiteyet]

"If there's a source of yoma, no one's found it," says Teresa.

Then, she adds, "or bothered to look for it, I suppose."

[calmhrtprevails]

Fawkes nods. "And not everything has a source that can be stopped anyway," he says, "so it might-"

He breaks off, gesturing to Teresa to step sideways. Just in time, too. There's a tzing! noise and a puff of concrete dust. Some ways ahead, crouched behind the wreck of an ancient car, is a man with an old hunting rifle and otherwise decent aim. "This won't end well for you!" Fawkes roars at the shooter.

[cantdiequiteyet]

Teresa moves back just in time for the bullet to rocket past her, close enough that she can feel the tight wind in its wake.

She blinks in surprise and follows Fawkes' gaze to the man behind the car.

She saw weapons like this during the big fight, but she's still not sure what to make of them.

"What is that?"

[calmhrtprevails]

"A gun," says Fawkes, "firing bullets- pieces of metal, at high speeds-"

The man behind the car isn't moving, unless you count him adjusting his aim, and quietly reassessing his chances against these two.

"Most people here, my own kind included, are armed with them," Fawkes says as he casts the sledge aside and reaches over his shoulder. Teresa might have mistaken his burden for an overly complicated backpack of supplies- fair enough, since he never made use of it. "I'm not one of them. I have other weapons- THROW YOURS DOWN OR FACE US BOTH!"

[cantdiequiteyet]

This might be a problem. Teresa can't predict the human's movements; she can't dodge something that fast without drawing on her yoma power, which she doesn't want to; and if he hits exactly the right place on her body, he might do her some serious damage.

She deals with the problem by drawing her sword again and holding it lightly in front of her, fixing the man with a smile that threatens more than reassures.

"Why shoot at us?" she asks.

The answer might inform her decision to kill this human or not.

[calmhrtprevails]

Swords are uncommon in the Capital Wasteland. The man doesn't quite know how to deal with that, and concentrates instead on the fact that it's wielded by a human, if an oddly dressed one. "That thing," he calls back, nodding towards Fawkes because he doesn't dare take his hands off his gun. "I was aiming for the Frankenstein."

[cantdiequiteyet]

Teresa glances curiously at Fawkes, as if about to ask what a Frankenstein is.

Later.

Instead she turns back to the man.

"Don't," is all she says. Mildly. Pleasantly.

Somehow threateningly.

[calmhrtprevails]

The man gulps, his eyes moving a moment to Fawkes.

Fawkes hasn't taken his backpack-weapon down fully yet. He says, equally mildly, "I would listen to the lady if I were in your shoes."

"Will- will you let me go? Are you going to shoot me as soon as my back is turned?"

"Well," says Fawkes, "I certainly don't plan to."

[cantdiequiteyet]

Teresa shakes her head.

"No," she says. "Not if you leave us alone."

She has no reason to, after all.

[calmhrtprevails]

The man gulps, gives them one last look, and bolts. Fawkes watches him go. "He shouldn't run like that," he observes. "He'll never keep that speed up for long- and he'll attract predators. They can sense terror, I think."

[cantdiequiteyet]

Teresa watches the way the man runs - looking for the speed and signs of tiredness Fawkes is talking about.

"Oh, well," she says. He chose to run that way, after all.

"What's a Frankenstein?"

[calmhrtprevails]

"One of the names the humans use for my fellow meta-humans," says Fawkes. "There was a book about a man who tried to create a living creature from the pieces of corpses. His creature became a monster, and since it had no name, people called it by its creator's name- Frankenstein. The humans here use it for my kind; we're made monsters, not born."

[cantdiequiteyet]

"Like me and my former colleagues," says Teresa.

She shakes her head in the direction of the running man.

"Some of them are worth protecting."

She has to say it out loud to reassure herself.

[calmhrtprevails]

Fawkes nods. "Most likely," he says. And then: "I can't really blame him. Most of the others would eat him, or drag him off to turn him into one of them, or worse. Until they're gone, his fear's more likely to keep him alive."

[cantdiequiteyet]

"Right," Teresa says. "I suppose so."

It's not quite the same as her situation, as half-yoma are significantly different from full yoma, but she's seen the fear and suspicion. It's just more justified here.

"Let's get to this town."

[calmhrtprevails]

"Very well."

After a long while of walking under the Wasteland sun, the land begins to grow hillier and the signs of former civilization more numerous. Fawkes leads the way along the chunks of pale grey stony stuff that were once a road and notes, "We'll turn west under that elevated road and circle the ridge shortly. Megaton's just on the other side."