The Mansion of Crossroads

"Of course. Come on." Lia turned back and made her way into the hallway, heading through the door at the end and down the stair before entering the armory and looking at the equipment around her. Before long she spotted her equipment, the folded shotgun, pistol, and rifle. Along with that was a small chip which inserted into an almost unnoticeable pocket in her wrist to form the omni-tool.

Andrew shook his head, sitting down on a couch, contemplating his past experiences. Finally he looked back up at the CIA Agent. "I don't care whatever the fuck your bosses, or whoever think, everything I experienced was very much real."

The Lone Wanderer stood up, pulling up his left sleeve slightly, revealing his well toned and tanned bicep. There was also a large scar running up the wound. "I got this fighting for my life in the Pitt. I was hit by an Auto-Axe, it grinded through my muscles and skin. I FELT that." He lowered his short sleeve, then ran a hand over his shorn hair, a scar was visible cutting across the left side of his scalp. "I got this scar when a piece of my brain was surgically removed in Point Lookout, I remember it. I remember it all, and I'll be damned if someone says it's all fake."

---
James tagged along with the group, remaining silent. Glancing at Johanne every so often, for reasons unknown.

"Well, get used to it. There are thousands, hundreds of thousands of beings like you. And they're all going to be regulated. As of currently, you're not even considered human." The woman didn't get up, still staring up at the celeing, wondering if this was better than deskwork or not.

James twisted and laid down on the couch, looking up at the ceiling in anger. "Oh really? I'm not considered human? I can talk like a human. I can feel pain like a human. I can kill like a human. Want me to give some proof of my human-like abilities?"

"I'm not the one trying to pass a law saying your an inhuman being, whom threatens our way of life. Tell Congress." She stood up on the couch, slightly hungry. Hopefully food would be gotten soon.

"Oh yeah? Well were I come from Congress is a fucking crater. The way we solved our problems was with a gun." Andrew heard a low growling sound, something he was familiar with. It was someone's stomach grumbling, a sure sign of the need for food.

The Lone Wanderer sat up, pulling open one of his large pockets on his cargo pants, reaching inside and removing an MRE. He set it on the arm of the couch closest to the CIA Agent, then laid back down.

"Nah. We've got a some real food being brought here. I'll tough it. And that being said, that MRE is probably two hundred years old. I hope you'll enjoy the meal, being that it'll be your first real hot meal since you left that vault of yours. And even in the vault, I doubt it would be the same. However, being that this food is....a little different, you'll probably get sick, and need a few days to adjust to it." The woman crossed her arms, looking at a nearby clock. It sure was getting late, for that matter.

"I've had hot meals outside of the Vault, all you have to do is make a fire... but still, it's irradiated and stale as hell. I threw up my first few times, but I adjusted..." Andrew replied, slinging an arm over his face to help further block out the light. He was surprisingly well toned for living in the Wasteland. But that would've been from his constant fight for survival. Finding food in the wasteland wasn't hard when you knew where to look, and how to kill whatever was protecting it.

The Lone Wanderer was also very tan, from spending entire days walking under the hot, beating sun. His fair skin had soaked up the sun well, and he didn't have any sunburn, that was visible at least. Really the only thing that seemed unattractive was the scars, which criss-crossed his whole body. But they weren't ugly, brutal scars. They had healed well, leaving small, slightly less-tanned lines across his chest, arms, and legs.

"So........What do you consider yourself as?" The woman was okay with a little tan. She prefered fair skin, but she could work with Life saver toned. Didn't much matter, considering there shouldn't be personal attachment in this. Not profesional.

Andrew pushed himself up slightly, resting his back against the arm of the couch. "Just another man trying to survive, helping the less-fortunate as often as possible. The rest of the Capital Wasteland see me as a god... but I'm no god, I bleed like everyone else."

"How interesting. There were a few actual gods that arrived here." The CIA agent moved back a little getting annoyed at how long these people were taking.

"Brilliant, they can probably do more than I ever could." The Lone Wanderer sighed. He was used to waiting long periods for things, but obviously this Agent was not, from the way she seemed annoyed.

"Seems like something's got you riled up, care to share?"

Leon sat drumming on his knees with his finger tips whilst the two conversed a few feet away, he'd explained the situation to Collins and then the young man had left to go check the kitchen for food or something, not that he'd find any.

"So are we under house-arrest for the forseeable future?" Leon asked, then jokingly added, "'Cause I get homesick real easy." He added another one of his trademark 'lady-killer' smiles before settling back on the couch.

"This...is going to be a long night...." She ignored the LW, and let herself fall into the couch.

Andrew didn't even seem put-off by the CIA Agent's rude blockage of his question. But he really didn't care, wasteland had made him thick-skinned like that.

The Lone Wanderer looked over at Leon, who had flashed a smile that reminded Andrew of himself. "What happened to your hair?"

Leon ran a hand through his now shortened head of hair, he chuckled, "It seems the justice system cuts off your hair when you arrive," he too ignored the whiny FBI agent, "So what's your story? You seem pretty well-trained for someone as young as you are."

Andrew sat forward on the couch, back into a proper sitting position while looking up at Leon. "Well, that' s a long and boring story. Basically there was a fuck-up with a computer simulation and I basically ripped off the life of a ten-year-war Marine vet."

"Huh," Leon murmured, giving the man a once over, he'd been about his age when the government had tracked him down after the Racoon City incident, "Bet the military's trying to cook something up like that as we speak. Make training soldiers a snap."

"Turning a bunch of kids full of energy into experienced, locked on killing machines; ready to serve and kill for the country for decades to come? Heh, fuck up a lot of people, but it'd make one hell of a military." Andrew replied, glancing down at his Pip-Boy before looking back at Leon. "What about you? Saw you taking on that Behemoth a good week ago, you've got balls to charge one with a grappling hook."

Leon smirked at the comment, "I've...I've got special skills that have helped me a lot in the past. I suppose Government training ranks on that list somewhere, but I suppose if you want the real reason, I'm just lucky most of the time. I survived a viral outbreak on my first day as a rookie police officer, a few years later I'm working for the US Government in South America, once more dealing with the undead and a couple months back took down an entire cult by myself and rescued the President's daughter," he leaned back against the couch, looking up at the ceiling a moment before turning back to the Wanderer, "As for the grappling hook, it seemed like your saw-sword-thing was doing some damage and if I wanted to minimize civilian deaths, I'd have to put myself in harms way to do it. And besides, it wasn't as if I could just stand by and let you take all the credit."

"Hell, I was surprised the Ripper managed to pierce the skin, and even then I got about ten seconds into it before being thrown into a building. And it sounds like you've taken a few spins around the world, heh. I've done some things here and there from where I'm from, after a while it just all starts to blend together, ya' know? First few achievements, you notice it... but then it just gets, I dunno, dull."

Leon thought about it a moment, he shock his head, "No, I haven't forgotten. Stuff like that sticks with you, for me at least. I feel like I'd be letting all the people who died down if I forgot, pretended none of it ever happened. Too many people died by Umbrella's hand that day for me to just up and forget it ever happened, so no, I can't forget that."

A blonde haired woman poked her head out of the hall way, a half asleep look on her face.

"You guys get the food yet? I mean, couldn't you just call in a pizza or something? This is getting annoying. I haven't ate for almost a day now, and honestly, the leather in my shoes did *not* taste good. I thought the government didn't have worse service than a fast food resturant, but, at least there you get the food, even if it gives you cramps. Oh well. No point in complaining, at least we get to add to the national debt, and live here on tax payer money." Aya Brea slipped into the room, leaning up against the wall, next to Leon's couch end. Interesting enough, she'd have to get on the computer, look more people up. Annoying, but useful.

"I didn't mean that I forgot those that died, I remember every man, woman and child I've seen die. I just meant everything begins to blur together. You just get, I dunno, tired? Tired of all the killing and death, despite the good you've done. You just want a break from it... I dunno, maybe it's just different in the wasteland."

Andrew peeked up as a voice sounded from the hallway, it sounded irritated... why were all of the females in this mansion always on edge? The Lone Wandere couldn't quite see her until she rounded the corner. He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at how... breathtaking this girl was. He immedietly shot down the stare, instead directing his gaze elswhere, out the window. Glancing outside as if he saw something. "Umm, I dunno where they are. They should be here soon." Andrew looked back at the woman standing near Leon, and pointed at the MRE he laid out earlier. "You can eat that... though it's a good two centuries old."

The Knight laid back down onto the couch, resting his head on the arm of the piece of furniture. He then realized he hadn't introduced himself to anyone, and decided it was best to get that out of the way. "By the way, my name's Andrew."

"I get your drift," Leon replied, feeling bad that he'd essentially implied the young man didn't give a damn about anyone but himself, which wasn't really what the agent had meant, but it'd come out that way, "And no, things are not that much different in the Wastes. Same general thing happened in Spain, it all sorta ran togther-"

He was cut off as the woman entered the room, and of course, as per his luck she was a pretty good looking young woman. He always wondered if he had some lucky streak running to run into beautiful women in horrible horrible situations, he'd save that mental battle for later.

The agent glanced over as the younger man laid himself out on the couch, and finally gave him his name, Leon responded simply with, "Name's Leon."