~~~~<b>In the Sewers of Vegas</b><br/><br/><br/>Santa was prepared for anything, well, almost anything. He knows the world is a dangerous place, even for a mutant, if not especially. The new firepower that the gunrunners supply has superseded the tough hide of a mutant and the hatred for his kind has barely diminished in the last hundred and forty years after the master's fall, or at least, that's what Santa's been told. Adam has been a companion to Santa for as long as he ran remember, which is a long time indeed. They had fought together in the unity for years before the fall, Adam being the superior soldier to Santa, saving his hide many a time. Now Santa is doing the saving.<br/><br/><span style="color: DarkOliveGreen">"Hmmf"</span>was his only utterance as he traveled the sewers, stepping in things he'd rather not think about on the way. He knows many of the impoverished dwell here, and a public attack against him be unlikely, though when pressed, a poor man may become mighty, even with the weakest of weapons. Santa had learned this before in the Unity; A single farmer from Junktown holding off an entire patrol for twenty minutes in a empty building, armed with only a simple rifle.  Santa peers down at Rudolf, running his calloused hand against the furniture, remembering.<br/><br/>All he knows is that his companion is in some old base or laboratory or something and that his Pip-Boy has led him through the sewers.<span style="color: DarkOliveGreen">"Damned thing couldn't navigate a bathtub without leading me through some damp cave." </span>He mutters to absolutely no one, save whatever creatures lurk about in this rather empty portion of the underground. He hates the underground not because of the dark, nay, he enjoys that. He hates it because of the constant echo, the low ceilings, and the people, oh the<i> people</i>. You would think that the last place someone would want to live is an old, wet sewer. If there was a disease to catch it would be here, not that it's a problem for a Super Mutant.<br/><br/>As he follows his faulty compass-of-sorts several dozen plans run through his heads of ways to deal with these scientists. Shall he negotiate? Shall he do as they ask? Shall he shoot them dead? How? From what direction and stance?<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>