Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20190520181834/@comment-3293219-20190611205351

Hamilton had spent some time in the Diner, taking a while to eat very little. In truth, he wanted a drink, more than food but the Vault had a strict food and drink policy, that only allowed alcoholic   beverages, if bought with a meal. Mostly to stop people like Ellen Deloria from emptying the place out.

In truth, his mind was far away as he considered as to what he should do with that husk in there. Leaving her in a braindead prison didn’t feel like revenge, it felt more like giving up and walking away but if he did anything to her, would she even know?

Would she even respond to physical pain? Outside of a grimace or a groan? She doesn’t value anything in this world, anymore.

Nothing even properly existed to her now, apart from a few memories and delusions, brought on by her rotting brain.

This wasn’t as cathartic as he had hoped, seeing her in such a state, when she pretended to be a dignified woman.

If only she could see what she’s become... Just for a second. That’d be fantastic, just to get that look of shame and horror, a glimpse of consciousness before it was robbed of her.

He was so caught up in his train of thought, that he didn’t notice that someone had taken a seat, opposite him. The worn leather of the chair creaked under the weight of the elderly Hispanic gentleman, who slipped into the booth, staring Hamilton down with an icy glare.

Alphonse...

He was top dog here or he was, once upon a time, until his little princess took over and succeeded his monarchy. Suppose he was still the Queen Mother around here...

Shame that being Top Dog means very little, when the man opposite is the predatory equivalent of a Tiger. The two Vault Dweller’s eyes met, with intense focus, a burning mutual hatred that made this small, crappy, pre-war aesthetic diner feel like Agua Fria.

“Thomas Hamilton...” Alphonse began, staring down at the Brahmin steak on the plate.

“I didn’t think I’d be seeing you again.”

There was a pause as Hamilton messed around with the vegetables, on his plate. Long since gone cold, moving them into patterns, to look disinterested.

“Sorry to disappoint.” The Slaver said, glancing up to the former Overseer, who now looked a little less than comfortable. He was used to dealing with delinquents but not people from the outside. He detested the thought of not having a ten inch steel door between them.

“Look; I know that I and the Vault owe you an apology.”

“For what?” Hamilton asked, it sounded like he was being coy but in truth, he wondered what Alphonse was referring to. Wolfe? His mother? The fact that they tried shooting at him, on the way out?

<p class="MsoNormal">“Well, I feel that we failed you. In more ways than one.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Yeah, like when you failed to shoot me as I was trying to leave?”

<p class="MsoNormal">Alphonse sighed, not really expecting this to go well but... Well, this was skin crawlingly bad.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Look, I was expecting a lot of anger from you but...”

<p class="MsoNormal">“What do you want, Alphonse? You’re not here to apologise, because you’ve never regretted a thing you’ve ever done in your life. Your apologies are as hollow as the rest of your words. So why don’t you just cut the shit and get to the point?”

<p class="MsoNormal">Hamilton had little patience for this dancing around the point crap. He just wanted this old fool to be gone, so he could be left to his thoughts.

<p class="MsoNormal">Still, this got through to Alphonse, who was disarmed but didn’t seem to be all that into putting up much of a fight anyway. Kind of depressing really...

<p class="MsoNormal">“You spoke to Maeve today.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“I did.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Alphonse paused, taking a deep breath as he leant back, thinking a little before leaning forward.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Look, I know that you’re angry at me and the Vault and everything to do with us but please, leave Maeve out of it.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Hamilton, in truth, wasn’t exactly expecting that. He expected a talking down to or a ‘spare my daughter’ thing but why Maeve?

<p class="MsoNormal">He supposed it would make sense for Maeve to be the one who died, so that Amata would blame her Father and his failings for years to come. Though he barely gave a rat’s ass about the Vault at this point and that girl was hardly the worst of them.

<p class="MsoNormal">She was alright by him, in truth...

<p class="MsoNormal">He’d killed kids before, not that it bothered him, the little monsters usually deserved it but this kid helped old people and played chess. It wasn’t like he was itching to shoot her or anything.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Maeve came to me, Alphonse. We just happened to cross paths. So long as she doesn’t give me a reason, then she has nothing to fear from me.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Alphonse didn’t seem to expect that, he nodded, falling back and looking a little withdrawn as that answer somewhat went against his expectations.

<p class="MsoNormal">“She did speak highly of you. I hardly believed it was you, the way she...”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Maybe if you listened to me, back then, you’d have seen the same.”

<p class="MsoNormal">The former Overseer fell quiet, kind of a depressing reality. In truth, the little turd scared the bejesus out of him. He had the psyche profile of a school shooter, he just used to stare at people all day or read those old trite novels.

<p class="MsoNormal">Alphonse slowly slid out of the booth, propping himself up, with his arm and faltering a little as he did so. In truth, he was quite relieved with how it went. Nobody even got killed or anything...

<p class="MsoNormal">His hands slid into the grooves made on the table, probably Butch with that damnable switchblade of his as it slid along the dulling service of the dining table. In truth, he felt a little light headed from the shock of staring this cold-blooded killer down.

<p class="MsoNormal">However, everything seemed to be okay, until...

<p class="MsoNormal">“Alphonse?”

<p class="MsoNormal">Jesus...

<p class="MsoNormal">“Hmm?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Who’s is she?”

<p class="MsoNormal">At that point, the elderly overseer furrowed his brow, wondering what the devil the boy was on about. Was he just trying to get under his skin? Or did he know something?

<p class="MsoNormal">“Amata’s.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“And?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“F-Freddy’s. She’s their daughter, Hamilton.”

<p class="MsoNormal">The Cannibal’s lips formed a smile, one that would send shivers down the spine of anyone who knew how many people’s blood had stained them.

<p class="MsoNormal">“I don’t believe you.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Alphonse found himself wondering what he was on about, himself.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Speculate all you want, Thomas Hamilton.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Oh, I will. I find it impossible to believe that the village idiot’s daughter contains none of his features and can cobble a sentence together.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Alphonse furrowed his brow, his eyes shifted around the room. Hamilton struggled to read him but he knew one thing, he wasn’t sure how to proceed, which meant that a nerve had been hit touched.

<p class="MsoNormal">“If I were you, I wouldn’t get too comfortable here. You’ll find that Amata’s hospitality is limited, when it comes to those like you.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Well, at least her hospitality has any form of limit.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Alphonse had little to no intention of continuing this discussion, it was unlikely to end in a healthy place. He had made his position clear and it was unlikely he would get a direct result out of Hamilton today.

<p class="MsoNormal">He left the Slaver alone, to finish building up the courage to eat his food and dwell on this enlightening conversation.

<p class="MsoNormal">The way that Alphonse was acting was odd, cautious almost, like he didn’t know everything. That was very out of character for what Hamilton knew about the old dictator. He always knew everything or at least acted like it.

<p class="MsoNormal">It would imply that he was being careful, because he knew something that Hamilton didn’t or at least something that he may not know. Something that he didn’t want to assume that his enemy would know... <p class="MsoNormal" style="border:none;mso-border-bottom-alt:solid windowtext .75pt; padding:0cm;mso-padding-alt:0cm 0cm 1.0pt 0cm">This just got interesting. <p class="MsoNormal">Hamilton thought for a while, to find out about the Alvador family. Whether it was through the Overseer’s office or the Clinic. Clinic would be easier to break into, inferior security, both cyber and physical. If he could go routing around in the Dr’s office, he could potentially dig up some of Alphonse’s dirty little secrets.

<p class="MsoNormal">In truth, he didn’t expect this to be important but he figured it would be more fun than trying to sleep. That and there’s no knowledge that isn’t power, right?

<p class="MsoNormal">He knelt down before the large shutter, to the empty clinic, the lights were dimmed down to a night time simmer, to keep the path ahead visible, without blinding any tired eyes. It was kind of like a sun that never set.

<p class="MsoNormal">He examined the shutter and noticed that there wasn’t even a lock on it, it looked like someone had busted it years ago, scratched the outer rim to hell and then cracked it open, with a bobby pin. The mechanism probably got damaged in the process.

<p class="MsoNormal">The shutter slowly lifted to reveal the dark, empty surgery ahead. It was eerily reminiscent of an old horror film, a vacuum of life in this otherwise buzzing colony. He figured that he would be safer turning on his flash light, rather than the light switch as the engineering department could potentially see the light being used.

<p class="MsoNormal">He approached the back room. James’ room. To think that he once spent a summer with the father of his mortal enemy and didn’t even realise it. To think that he thought that the whole world was just this place, a bleak, gun metal grey, dimly lit hole in the ground.

<p class="MsoNormal">How he pitied his younger self...

<p class="MsoNormal">As James’ door slid open, he observed that there was a terminal on the desk, up ahead. It was probably the same one, from when he used to do counselling visits, back in the day. It hadn’t changed much, though there was a motivational poster on the wall, due to Vault-Tec regulations going down the toilet.

<p class="MsoNormal">Best place for them really.

<p class="MsoNormal">He took a seat, opposite the terminal and got to work, cracking it open. It was quite an easy security system to bypass, not that he expected more out of this place.

<p class="MsoNormal">A four character password was hardly what he’d expect for the Doctor’s terminal, given the sensitivity of the data on it. But this was Vault 101, he was looking at, so maybe he deserved the disappointment.

<p class="MsoNormal">This thing was about as organized as the morgue, back at Paradise Falls. At least with Paradise Falls’ Morgue, it was just a pit, where they dumped bodies, whereas this was meant to be an actual hospital.

<p class="MsoNormal">Jesus Christ.

<p class="MsoNormal">There were all kinds of files in there, medical check ups, autopsies and everything else were all just floating around for anyone to read. This thing was a nightmare, a bombardment of meaningless names and dates!

<p class="MsoNormal">There was a lot of scrolling involved, which was tedious as all hell, given the length of the list and the fact that he could only go down one item at a time. He was tempted to go out and kill this Doctor for wasting so much of his goddamn time.

<p class="MsoNormal">After half an hour of gut wrenching boredom, he finally reached one of the earliest entries on this thing.

<p class="MsoNormal">MA04052280

<p class="MsoNormal">He decided to take the plunge and look into it, seeing a rather rambley imail from Amata about her kid.

<p class="MsoNormal">Dr Kendal

<p class="MsoNormal">What I write to you is in the strictest confidence, it goes beyond Doctor/Patient confidentiality but it’s vital for the safety of little Maeve that I divulge this information.

<p class="MsoNormal">''Though her birth certificate states that Freddy is her Biological Father, he is not. He knows that he isn’t as I have made this clear to him, my father and now you. We are the only ones to ever know this.''

<p class="MsoNormal">''Her Father is the Vault Exile, Denis Callaghan. I met him outside, around two years after his exile and our encounter resulted in the conception of Maeve. Given that the Vault was still in its isolatory phase at the time, you can probably understand my need to be discrete about this. That and Callaghan and his Father are still blamed for so many of the Vault’s problems, I don’t wish for my little girl to be judged for her Father’s mistakes.''

<p class="MsoNormal">''We don’t plan to tell her or anyone besides you. You only need to know for medical reasons, not that we could keep it from you for long, given the disastrous result of the gene projection. I’m sure that Denis could explain what changed his DNA, were he here but sadly, I will just have to speculate that its a result of radiation. ''

<p class="MsoNormal">''Keep an eye out for any abnormalities and inform me of them on the Overseer’s terminal. Please only talk about issues related to this imail on there as I am the only one with access to it. Do not tell anyone about what I have disclosed to you, not even your staff. Nobody needs to know and if there’s any possibility that they will need to, then I will decide if it is to be disclosed.''

<p class="MsoNormal">Thank you for being so supportive.

<p class="MsoNormal">Amata Alvador

<p class="MsoNormal">“Well...” Hamilton sighed, leaning back in the Doctor’s chair and propping up his head.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Shit.”