98 bottles on the wall

Finally, the duo reached the foot on the statue, the outpost was... Not exactly what Afton was expecting. On the right were pens which held many pack-brahmin, presumably for the traders that were stopping here. On the left was a relatively large building with NCR troops protecting it. He could even spot a sniper sitting on the roof, he felt as if he could see the woman giving him the stink-eye through her shades...

A man with heavily tanned skin, black hair and a large beard walked up to them, he wore the typical NCR soldier uniform and held a service rifle in his arms. "You two... Wouldn't happen to be those former-Ganger mercs Lieutenant Hayes has been radioing about?"

Karl raised a brow, "That what he been calling us? Former-Ganger Mercs?"

The soldier shrugs, "Not exactly, rumour of you two has been on everyone's mind lately. Not much goes on here so its something to keep them occupied... I'll warn you though, some don't take too kindly to raiders, caravaners especially. Name's Sgt Kilborn by the by.

"Karl."

"Afton." they both state before the latter continues, "Whaddya mean nothing going on here? Surely you've got a lot on your plate with the Legion and the huge colony of ants down the road?" he questions.

Sgt Kilborn sighs, "Its because of those damn insects that nothing's been going on. Place is locked up and no caravans can come through until it gets cleaned up. We lack the men and the equipment to get rid of them, so we're just stuck waiting for reinforcements for McCarren."

"And the Legion? They'd like to stop you bringing in supplies from California right?" Afton asks.

"Legion wouldn't dare delve so deeply into NCR territory, even if they did, we'd hear about it long before they got here..." the soldier says, but his words trail off as his eyes seem to lock onto something in the distance...

The duo turn and spots black smoke beginning to rise from a nearby town...

Karl snorts, "Looks like you won't be bored much longer Sargeant." he says before patting him on the shoulder and walking past.

Afton nods at the Sargeant and whispers thanks before following Karl. The duo doesn't immediately enter the building, instead, looking towards the rather miserable-looking traders.

He seems relatively experienced in bartering as he sells all the weaponry they had to them. He made sure to involve two traders in order to keep the prices good for them. In the end, they came out with around 600 caps which they split. Afton now had around 1900 caps, and Karl had a similar amount.

Afton glanced to Karl as they headed towards the Barracks, "You owe me some drinks."

Karl shrugs, "Whatever you say. I just wanna drink and rest for the day... Tomorrow we can take a job and get moving again."

"Yeah, my feet are aching so no complaints here." Afton says as he pushes open the door. Almost everyone sitting at the bar turn towards the duo, seemingly recognising them.

They sit and Karl immediately orders a bottle of Tequila and two shot glasses. The barman called Lacey shrugs and slides the glasses in front of them and places the bottle down as caps hit the table.

"How're you at drinkin' son?" Karl asks, quickly filling both their glasses up.

"Er... I haven't 'drank' in a while if that's what you mean." Afton says, he'd almost entirely stayed away from alcohol while he was with the Powder Gangers. And the Brotherhood of Steel didn't allow you to drink unless it was a special occasion... Or if a commanding officer bent the rules a little like his father had.

"Hmph, we'll see if you're a lightweight of not then." he says, clinking their glasses together and downing the Tequila before refilling it.

Afton breathes a sigh before downing his own, almost coughing at the strong drink. It had literally been almost twenty years since he'd had Tequila, and he remembered why he hated it. Karl filled his glass up again and he felt like they wouldn't finish until the bottle was empty.

He was about to down another shot when he caught sight of a woman glaring daggers at him. It was a woman in her late twenties or early thirties from what he could tell, brown hair, blue eyes, and a freckled face. She wore a straw hat, a leather jacket over a white and pink checker-shirt. One thing that caught his eyes though was the Tribal-looking necklace hung around her neck.

"Looking for trouble kid?" she growls at him, swirling her glass of what looked like whisky.

Afton shook his head, not wanting to get into a barfight as soon as they got in... It wouldn't endear anyone to them, something they didn't need as most apparently knew their past in the Powder Gangers. "No, my bad." he says turning away and downing his drink.

The duo kept drinking, after the tenth or so shot Karl began telling stories of his encounters with the Legion, not bothering to care about the NCR soldiers and caravaners listening in as well. He even showed Afton the deep scars on his stomach and chest from a time he and his friends had been captured and subsequently tortured.

It wasn't just them getting completely shit-face though, the woman who'd been glaring at them the whole day was on her eighth glass of whisky. Her face and cheeks were flushed red and her eyes were drooping.

A couple more drinks and Karl had begun singing some old Californian folk songs, some of the bar singing along with him. Afton listened and start badly trying to sing as well, but his drunken state and poor knowledge of the songs had him just shouting gibberish.

Some of the soldiers who were still on duty scowled at the drunken group, but decided not to intervene... The place was boring enough as it is, at least this livened it up slightly.