nexus_crossings | (no subject)

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Danse is hanging out at a field in The Wilds of the Nexus near what appears to be an old barn and a large pile of wood. The exiled Brotherhood Paladin has decided to take a break from setting up his home, as he sits down on an old blue chair with a cold nameless beer in his hand. And with the door of the barn wide open, one can see his power armor suit sitting in the yellow power armor station that he managed to bring back from home. But he still has a lot of work, before this place will end up looking like a home.

He is wearing his white t-shirt once again with a pair of beat-up jeans, and his leather jacket is slung over the back of his chair. It was nice to enjoy the potential summer that might end. And maybe that is another question to ask some of the long time Nexus residents.

"I wonder how many of you would be interested in a shooting range along with an instructor." Danse figures before he goes along with his plan it might be best to ask. "I've decided to stay here in the Nexus for personal reasons, and seeing as I need to find work I figured that my military training can be made to be beneficial for some of the people who might need some defense training." He then thinks a little bit more, and he places his beer on a small table that is sitting there besides him. "And I can always take people back to my universe to interact with the wildlife. Erm. Hunt." Because who doesn't want to tangle with a giant deathclaw.

"And I also wonder if this place has seasons."

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Furiosa tends to spend a fair bit of her Nexus time wandering the parks and the wilds. Mostly, she's foraging for seeds and edibles that won't be missed, to carry home, but she also finds the abundance of green and water and life immensely reassuring. It's not like coming home, precisely--rainbow toadstools and the occasional glowing sprite fluttering past make it too surreal for that--but it reminds her that life is tougher than it looks, and hope isn't always a mistake.

When Danse asks his question, she's studying his new dwelling from a distance, a bit envious. He's caught her attention, though, and she moves closer to respond, metal left arm held akimbo at her hip. "A shooting range?" Hells, yes, she's interested, although she hardly needs an instructor for projectile weaponry.

"I like that idea. It's probably a safer place to learn and practice here, than a lot of peoples' home worlds. Bring your own ammo, I assume?"

She can't speak to his question about seasons. She has no idea, and very little at home to compare to.

The battered white doors of the even more battered looking barn are wide open, and from the looks of the inside he still has quite of work that needs to be done with it. And Danse is still trying to adapt to the Nexus wilds. This place is not like the Wastelands of what was once the United States. There are actual trees that are green, and there has been no worry of deadly radiation storms from The Glowing Sea that doesn't exist here. And fresh non-irradiated water has become one of the best things to drink since his arrival. Oh and apples.

"Yup. I'm pretty sure this place has plenty of shop keepers, so I figured something different would be nice." Danse did the whole merchant thing before, and it never was his true calling. And he knows a place like this doesn't really need an army, so he is opting to etch out a living to the best of his ability.

And he puts his hand to his chin, and as he ponders how to go about allowing people to bring weapons from their own worlds. "I can provide the ammo, but if people need specialized ammo from their own world..." He furrows his brow. "I can see where that might be a problem."

"There's no lack of people trying to sell things," she agrees. "Although many of them are abnormally generous."

She's been given a lot of free things, and she really doesn't want to think that's because she looks like she's in need--but to be fair, she's dressed in pieced-together leathers and weathered gauze, and missing part of an arm. Depending on the viewer's perspective, she might come across as a badass or a war victim. Or both.

She may actually be more fortunate than Danse, though. Radiation is hardly unusual where she comes from, but it's not so severe or inescapable in her little corner of the Wasteland.

"Something to think about," she says, with respect to guns and ammo. "You could sell or rent things, but you'd have to stock them then, and that could get costly."

Shrug. Either way, she's interested to see how this develops.

"Now that is one thing to consider, if I should do this for free or to charge people." Danse knows money seems to matter too many people, and he is sure he might need to make some type of living here in the Nexus. He furrows his brow, and places a hand to his chin. "Maybe I can sell some weapons on the side. I'm not talking anything special just something someone can use to defend themselves with."

He gets up from his chair and he wanders into the barn, and he opens up a yellow crate and he pulls out a rifle that has been cobbled together with pipes and other parts. And if Furiosa were to come to look, she will see a few other pipe weapons in the yellow crate.

"Weapons like these are pretty easy to come by back home, so I'll have to make some visits back to the Commonwealth to restock. Or I can always learn what goes into making these weapons." He steps aside and he leaves the crate open either way, and he places the rifle on another box besides it. "And I wasn't looking into selling the more exotic weapons from home for safety reasons."

Her eyebrows rise, expressing mild incredulity that he was considering doing this for free. Granted, she just commented on the generosity of the Nexus, and there seems to be no shortage of food, water, or shelter. Still, it's a lot of work to put in to ask nothing in return.

People are so strange here. Pleasantly strange, but strange.

When he moves off, she assumes she's permitted to follow since he doesn't say otherwise, so she trails after him calmly. She's far more interested in the plants around the barn than the weapons, but once she tears her eyes off a bobbing Queen-Anne's-lace flower, she studies them with interest.

"Practical!" That's a commendation. "My home often has a surplus of black powder. If that would be any use to you, we could barter."

He simply doesn't know how things really work here, and caps are what make the wastes of America back home spin and not paper money or whatever it is. Though Danse is sure, he can transfer it into something he can use. It is something he will figure out later.

Danse doesn't seem to mind that she follows him inside of the barn, and he turns back around and he sets the rifle down on another box. "That they are. People back home always tend to underestimate the power behind one of these homemade weapons in favor of salvaged weapons from The Great War. Or those that come from wealthier organizations that managed to make superior firearms."

"Black powder seems to be something both of our worlds has a surplus in, but it still costs caps. So I think we can make an arrangement."

"This place has seasons."

The second question is easier to answer than the first, mostly because of personal opinions on the subject that Natasha holds. She's not sure of what motivations someone could have in teaching, and Natasha is by nature suspicious so she's careful about how she words herself.

"What do you get out of offering? Are you looking to learn how people in other worlds fight? Handle themselves?"

Danse looks up at one of the shattered windows of the barn, and then to trees in the distance. "It seems I'm going to need to make sure fix the windows before the cold sets in." He isn't sure if his synthetic body can tolerate extreme colds, the constant heat of summer isn't an issue and something he is quite familiar with.

"I was offering a place for people to either blow off some steam, or even for them to teach each other how to defend themselves." He pauses to think, as he looks to Natasha with a calm look on his face. "And if I happen to learn a thing or two about how other worlds fight, that can't exactly, be helped. And I'm curious as to why you wish to know."

Edited 2016-09-09 19:28 (UTC)

"I want to know because gathering information about other worlds is usually done for a reason. It's important to make sure no one with ill will toward another world gains the kind of information that would be beneficial toward attacking said world. You get my meaning?"

Natasha has her arms folded, weight shifted to her left leg as she speaks. Her expression hasn't changed it's sober calm since she began speaking.

"It's happened a few times on my planet already. I tend to be wary of strangers, now."

He remains in his chair, and he reaches back for the bottle of warm besides and he takes a sip. Danse knows he has no use for this knowledge other than to appease maybe his own curiosity. And perhaps at one point this knowledge he may have taken back to The Brotherhood, but those days have long since sailed. And in understanding, Danse does finally nod his head.

"I understand exactly what you're saying. And I can personally attest that I have no reason to use that knowledge. As for others, that is where I can see your concerns." Danse calmly says. "And my own world has experienced what happens when knowledge and technology are allowed to run amuck without any checks and balances."

He looks back to the barn. And he brought up the idea of selling simple pipe weapons to Furiosa. His brow furrows even more as he thinks. "Knowledge I can't restrict, but I can restrict the sale of firearms and ammo."

"I would just be wary of whom you trusted, is all. not everyone here is a friendly face."

Though his answer seems to satisfy something in the spy. The rigidity of her posture lessens somewhat and she drops her arms back to her sides. He doesn't seem like he's lying, and for that Natasha is slightly less worried.

Danse has plenty of experience when it comes to being careful with whom he trusts with a weapon. "I'm well aware of this, but I'm wondering if there are any particular individuals that I should blacklist?"

Things like this Danse takes very serious. He's not going to end up causing an apocalypse on some other Earth or universe if it can be helped.

"Anyone with combatative opinions about the human race, for starters."

But that one is obvious, she thinks. Natasha frowns thoughtfully and goes quiet a moment. She nods though after a few seconds and holds up a finger to illustrate her point as she talks.

"There's a lanky young man. Tan, dark hair. Name of Joshua. Would be in his early 20s. He's severely unstable and shouldn't be allowed with any kind of weapon. Ever."

"A young man by the name of Joshua..." Danse repeats, as he slowly gets up from his chair to head into the open barn to shift through some items he brought along with him and he pulls out a folder with some paper along with a pen from a crate. And at the very top, Danse writes - Do not offer service to -. And Joshua's name is the very first on the list.

Danse mmms, and he turns his head to look to Natasha. "Is there anyone else? Or is that the only person that you know of?"

The Lone Wanderer adjusted to his change in setting fairly easily as he was used to weird stuff going down around him. And quite honestly, this was probably one of the nicer 'weird things' to happen. The Wilds in particular had greenery, and so in the short time he's been here he spent the good majority of it wandering around here with Dogmeat - who padded beside him sniffing at everything he could.

He doesn't answer the question straight away because he's busy checking out the power armor stationed in the barn. So when he responds he sounds a touch distracted.

"Shootin's a good skill to have, yeah. Don't see why not." He finally allows his gaze to fall on the man, studying his clothes and demeanor as he often did. Roy himself hadn't taken off his Vault 101 suit but he chose to wear his leather tunnel snakes jacket over it. "Nice digs."

The barn looks like it may have came out of The Commonwealth, and perhaps it did by the distraught look of the red paint on the doors and the amount of debris still inside of it. The exiled Paladin has quite a bit of work to do, and he catches sight of a very familiar looking German Shepard. At least he has seen one like it before during his stay at Sanctuary Hills.

And he then looks up to see the familiar looking Vault-Tec jumpsuit, but he has yet to see the Tunnel Snakes logo on the jacket. But he does not look like the Vault Dweller he met at the police station. "Thanks. And I take it you come from a vault somewhere." He doesn't hesitate to note Roy's familiar blue. He knew there were more than just 111 from his time back in the Capital Wastes.

"As for the barn, I'm hoping to have somewhat finished before winter sets in."

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