Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20190327223159/@comment-5543592-20190330153149

"I don't really make any money." Tanner smiled a little sheepishly. "As I said, I do peacekeeping.  There's all these mutants out there.  Sometimes they want to kill people, other times people want to kill them.  My idea was to try and keep either of that from happening."

It was nighttime in New Vegas. The Lucky 38 and the other casinos glowed, so did the billboards.

Shrike ran her hand along the brickwork, her steps slow and assured. Silent.

“Mmmm. Are we sneaking?” The Stealth Suit Mk. II purred.

Shrike didn’t respond. Ever since she had recruited Randall and then Hamilton she had talked to it less and less.

She stood in the alley, watching the late night bustle. The city was packed, as gamblers, adulterers, card sharks, magicians, mercenaries, and traders all pushed their way through the crowds, each following their own trajectory. The crowds weren’t shoulder to shoulder, but it was close. Where else did one see groups of people this large? The only place that came close was Broadway, in New York.

None of them looked frightened or anxious about the uncertain leadership of Vegas. As long as the roulette tables kept spinning and the drinks flowing, they didn’t care who was in charge. It was a reality that the leadership of Vegas changed every ten or twenty years. House had replaced the tribes, turned them into the Families. The Courier had replaced House and now Shrike had usurped him. For the people of Vegas, it didn’t matter who was on top, so long as caps made their way down to the bottom.

She was invisible to the city, here in the shadows. It was smarter than Josey’s or House’s approach. You couldn’t hit what you can’t see. So long as Shrike remained a name, unattached from anything, she had power beyond her own strength.

Power, by definition, was the ability to make others do something they wouldn’t have done without your intervention. Everyone had power over others, to an extent. A father had power over his children. A wife over her husband. A father wasn’t powerful in the same way a president or a king was powerful, but in a way his power was more absolute. The longer your reach the weaker it was.

A small child ran by, feet furiously working to build up insignificant speed, and stopped when she noticed Shrike leaning against the alley wall. Children in Vegas were rare, but it was the safest city in the Mojave, and some of the NCR’s wealthy had moved whole families her. The child was dressed well—her princess pink dressed was cleanly washed. The hairband in her hair was new, as were her sandals.

“Hello.” Shrike smiled.

The girl started up at Shrike, silent, her gaze vacant, as if sensing the imminent threat she posed.

“Where’re your parents?” Shrike asked, crouching down so that they were level. Shrike wasn’t so much taller than the girl.

The girl mutely pointed back the way she had come.

Shrike nodded. “That’s a pretty dress.”

The girl looked down at herself and pulled at her clothing. “I got it for my birthday.” She said in a small, high voice.

“Oh? How old are you?”

Without looking, the girl held up a full hand of five fingers and a single index finger on her other.

“Six?” Shrike said with mock astonishment. “Have you started school yet?”

“Casey!” A thin man in a pinstripe suit appeared and immediately clamped his hand around the girl’s “Don’t run off!” He looked over at Shrike, and blanched.

“You have a wonderful daughter.” Shrike smirked, slowly unfolding herself to her full height. The man was about a foot taller than she but he still took two steps backwards, putting his daughter behind himself.

“T-thank you.”

Shrike rolled her eyes, and made a dismissive motion with her hand. “Go on.”

He scooped up the child into a tight embrace and was quick to disappear into the crowd.

“You get some kinda sick pleasure doing that?” Randall Clark emerged from the dark of the alley behind her. He had his goggles up on his forehead, revealing his unsettling, broken eyes.

Shrike only briefly glanced over his shoulder at him. “Why is it that you’re always following me?”

“I like to keep a close watch on my investments.” Randall grinned, showing off too-white teeth. His thumbs were tucked into the waist of his pants, making the muscles of his arms look like swollen melons pressed against his body.

“You’re misunderstanding our arrangement.”

“I don’t think I do. Only reason I’m here, lady, is ‘cause you know sumin’ I don’t. Instant that changes, I’m out of here.”

“It’s almost funny knowing you now.” Shrike snickered. “We had stories about you in the military.”

“About my good looks and sexual prowess.” Randall assumed.

“About who you were. This mindless animal in a man’s body. Single-handedly took over a Legion army. Ran New Reno right under the families noses. They said nobody in this century would be able to kill Randall Clark. He was invincible.”

“Hehe, yeah.” Randall grinned. “Those were the days.”

Shrike swung around and hammered a kick into his gut. Randall doubled over, gasping, right into Shrike’s waiting hand. It locked around his throat and she lifted him high.

“They didn’t know how much of a spineless coward you are.” Shrike drawled, slamming him against the wall. Randall’s chest inflated like a balloon he struggled to breath, pried at her wrist fruitlessly. “Which one of them was too much for you? The doctor? Cassidy?”

Randall fumbled for one of his knives. Shrike flicked his arm away.

“You’re so weak.” Shrike told him without emotion. “Especially compared to me.”

Randall’s struggles grew feebler as the blood to his brain was slowly cut off.

“I don’t want you following me. What I want, Randall, is for you to do as I say.”

The ex-Yakuza was making a pained gagging noise now and had ceased his struggles.

“You’ll get your information when I’m finished.” She smirked up at him. “Alright? Nod.”

Randall nodded urgently. Shrike removed her hand from his throat, and he fell to his hands and knees.

“Fucking fuck…” Randall heaved, spitting up globs of swallowed saliva. “Shit…” he chuckled, despite him, “ow.”

Shrike looked down at him impassively. “I’ll see you back at the tower.”

She strode off into the crowd, leaving Randall hunched over the pavement. He glared at her back, furious, but unable to do much about it.