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[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

[cantdiequiteyet]

When the first gunshot rings out, Teresa is already leaping up and over the railing of the balcony. She turns her sword in the air, swinging it fast enough that the blade blurs. For a few seconds, about half the shots directed at her ricochet off wildly.

The other half hit her, adding a random spray of blood to the blur of silver around her. She's going to need to replace this armor again.

But then she lands in the center, slicing the head off one mutant and the arm of his neighbor in a snicker-snack of violence.

[calmhrtprevails]

Fawkes is, alas, not nearly so agile as Teresa; he'd need to take the stairs to reach her. And he will- but not until the Gatling's rendered one of the remaining mutants nothing but a pile of ash.

The suddenly-one-armed mutant looses a howl of pain, staggering backwards as bright red spatters the room; the other drops his gun and reaches over his shoulder for a sledge nearly as big as Fawkes' own. The idea seems to be that a weapon with such reach might keep the warrior's sword at bay.

[cantdiequiteyet]

The problem with that plan only comes when you realise quite ho big Teresa's sword is. And how unstoppable she is with it.

She smiles at the mutant and flicks her sword through the air in a way that should be impossible given its size and weight. And the sledge falls into two pieces.

Now the reach is a lot less.

She smiles.

[calmhrtprevails]

The creature howls with rage, although it was doing so already, and lets out some kind of a threat involving drinking Teresa's blood. It leaps towards her, arms stretched for her throat.

(It might notice that sudden, sharp smell of burning flesh. Fawkes has arrived and while he is angry, he is keeping his head and his laser both.)

[cantdiequiteyet]

Teresa darts backwards, her throat suddenly not in the place that hands are closing around.

"You're not very good at fighting, are you?" she asks mildly. And slices off the mutant's hands, and then its head.

[calmhrtprevails]

Said head is still trying to scream at her as it hits the floor. Which is more than the last, one-armed mutant can say; it was trying to run, but you can't hide from Fawkes' laser when he's in that kind of a mood. And this place automatically puts him in that kind of a mood.

"Well done," he says, when the last of the movement dies away. "You have an impressive sword, and an impressive way with it."

[cantdiequiteyet]

She doesn't actually shrug, but somehow she manages to give that impression as she wipes the blade down.

"It doesn't matter if I can't sense them coming, as long as they stay as big and clumsy as that."

[calmhrtprevails]

"There will be others my size," says Fawkes, "but for the most part the ones you'll find alive down here are of that caliber. I killed quite a few of the smaller ones some months ago on my way out of this place, and I doubt they've been able to make enough others to replace them all."

"Shall we go?"

[cantdiequiteyet]

"Yes," she says. "Unless there's anything you wanted here?"

[calmhrtprevails]

"I suppose I could do with their ammunition," Fawkes concedes, and sets to work raiding the corpses. "Once we've made certain the door to Lamplight is sealed, we'll have to fight our way out. Not something that should be a problem, but we'll need to do it quickly."

[cantdiequiteyet]

She nods.

"Quickly won't be a problem."

[calmhrtprevails]

"Very well." Fawkes stuffs the last few pieces of ammunition into his pockets. "Let's go."

The passage to Lamplight Caverns isn't getting any closer, after all. And there are still things lurking in the dark.

[cantdiequiteyet]

Teresa lets him lead the way , then walks with him, the noise of her feet on the ground echoing in the corridor.

[calmhrtprevails]

There are bloodstains here and there on the walls, some more recent than others. At one particularly enthusiastic one, accompanied by a visible dent, Fawkes notes, "I did that. I rather wish they'd attempt to clean it up."

Really, it was months ago.

He might say more as they reach the last turn in the Vault's narrow corridors, but a sound reaches his ears; he holds up one great green hand, and stops. After a moment he gestures. First two fingers, then a pause, then one finger and a flip of the hand to imitate something crawling: two mutants and one of the multi-tongued centaurs.

He'll have his Gatling ready, but it's only courteous to let the close-quarters fighter know.

[cantdiequiteyet]

Teresa watches the hand signals with some curiosity as she figures out what he's doing.

The realization hits her, and she smiles again. "Oh," she says quietly. "I understand."

She starts to step forward, then pauses and looks back at Fawkes.

"I'll go low. You can shoot over me."

That makes sense, right?

Because then she's darting around the corner.

[calmhrtprevails]

It had to be done that way. Fawkes tries, truly he does, but he's physically incapable of an indoor voice. They would have heard him.

He nods, and grins as far as the stiffly overmuscled structure of his face will allow, and shuffle-steps sideways to give himself room to fire on the enemies' heads.

[cantdiequiteyet]

Going low isn't something Teresa usually does - and avoiding friendly fire is completely alien to her. She's more of a casual-stroll-and-suddenly-slash killer.

But she can still rocket forward, holding her body horizontal at no more than two feet above the ground. She blurs, again, and slices through the centaur before it can even start reacting, and spins on the other side, turning to watch Fawkes finish the others, her legs wide and her head still low.

[calmhrtprevails]

For the very first time in its miserable existence since crawling out of the FEV vats, the centaur is- however briefly- once again two separate bodies with two separate nervous systems. It's all over in a few instants, of course. As long as it takes for the upper torso to slide to the floor and topple over.

As for the others? Well.

The Gatling laser's not meant as a precision weapon. That's just fine with Fawkes. Head, neck, shoulders- any part of the other two greenskins that will burn, he'll take. And when it's all done he'll realize that he's bleeding in several paces, and maybe even sit down later to dig the bullets out... but for now he's really quite happy to be blasting them apart.

[cantdiequiteyet]

In the seconds it takes for the mutants to trying to stand upright in that hail of laser, Teresa glances down at her uniform. The armor is dented in a couple of places, and the white clothing underneath splattered with tears and holes where bullets have gone straight through. But none have hit her vital areas, and her body has healed the wounds when she wasn't even noticing.

When it's done, she stands, and smiles at Fawkes.

"Is that the last?"

[calmhrtprevails]

"I wish it were," says Fawkes. "Consider it the end of the first phase. Now I have to plant the explosive devices I've been carrying so that this place can be purged with fire. We've destroyed enough of their forces that I should meet no resistance- or none worth mentioning. When it's done, we'll need to flee, quickly, before the devices can be set off."

"But even with this door shut, there's a chance the seal may be broken. We ought to warn the children who live in the caves on the other side."

[cantdiequiteyet]

Teresa considers this. Then she nods.

"Yes, it would be best to warn them so they can get away."

This is obvious. Someone should warn them. While Fawkes is planting the...

While Fawkes is...

Startled by the realisation: "me?"

[calmhrtprevails]

"I know this Vault as well as I know my own skin," says Fawkes. "You might survive any others of my kind lurking in here, but you wouldn't know the turns and twists of its passages, or where the weakest points are. If you did, I'd ask you to set the bombs and warn the children myself."

[cantdiequiteyet]

Teresa tries not to seem like she's more scared of this prospect than of slicing through giant mutants.

But... he has a point, so she puts her sword away and indicates the door. "Through here?"

[calmhrtprevails]

Fawkes nods. "They may call you a mungo," he says. "It's a name they give any adult. If they give you trouble, tell them Fawkes sent you, the one who came to take Dogmeat home. They'll recognize that."

[cantdiequiteyet]

"I will," Teresa says.

She nods, her way of acknowledging that he's got a job to do of his own, and if she were someone else, she'd wish him luck.

Then she turns towards the door.