Mac stopped just at the edge of Gecko Plains, setting her backpack down and extracting a water bottle from it. She raised it to her lips and took a long draught of what she was told was clean water. Some people she had talked to before had claimed they could taste when water was 'dirty' with rads, but everything Mac every drank tasted metallic and stale, regardless of where it was supposedly gotten from. Probably something to do with storage tanks. As she lowered the bottle and looked around, her dark brown eyes caught a glance of two men nearby. One was walking off with a bundle of papers, but the other was looking at some sort of poster. Feeling curious after her day of explaining what, to her, were really very simple concepts about pressure and metal stresses brought on by heat and time without maintenance, perhaps looking for conversation that was not about livestock, Mac hitched her bag back onto her shoulders and sauntered on over. At least as much as she ever could saunter.<br/><br/>Aside from the reality that the little blonde Latina-descended girl was about as nonchalant as a dog chasing after a molerat, Mac had on her very favourite work vest, attached to which was a variety of straps, loops, and pockets, so much so that it was nearly impossible to tell what the original vest might have looked like. Unhelpfully on that account, nearly every piece of well sewn cloth, stitched leather, or bracketed metal was different in composition and age, not to mention colour. The whole piece of clothing looked like a patchwork quilt that had been run through an armoury. Hanging from loops were a hammer, wrench, set of pliers, a small cutting torch, and a functioning radio that Mac didn't know any channels to call people on. Inside the pockets were various screws, bolts, cards, a few caps, scraps of raw material, a lead-lined box for radioactive substances, and other bits and bobs. Straps attached a roll of duct tape near her hip and her 9mm pistol. Since neither her boots nor her leather pants had anything attached, given her looks, most people assumed she was a merchant with everything she owned attached to her. The end result was cacophonous to both ears and eyes, and she rattled and jingled with every step.<br/><br/>This noisy entrance brought her closer to the man looking at the poster, who looked like he was probably a ghoul, wearing a lab coat. The man looked to be moving off, so Mac sidled up to where he had been and took in the poster at a glance. While she had no interest at all in shooting things for money, depending on the location there might be decent salvage available, and possibly even cash from the others for fixing their stuff. Aside from that, she always liked meeting people, and curiosity reared up in her mind and reminded her that this might be a company, too, in which case she could get info for her father at the same time. Having determined all of that, she nodded to herself and headed over to the local watering hole, where she might find a shot and someone needing her expertise.