Courage is being scared to death... and saddling up anyway. ~John Wayne
After having locked herself up in her tiny cabin for four days, the sheer raw physical force of hunger made Amanda finally peel herself out of her cocoon of self-pity, grief, fear and pain. But even as she opened the door and blinked against the light that was harsh in her eyes after the long time she had spent in darkness, she realised she was still wearing her bloodied, dirty clothes, and not only did she look dreadful, she smelled dreadful, too.
So she went back inside, picked up spare clothing and after a serious wash and a change of clothes, felt restored enough to face the world again. She made her way through the ship hesitatingly, and had to admit after a few false turns that she had managed to get herself lost. Yet as she stood there and debated which door to take next, one of them opened and through it came a couple, holding the door open for her. Relieved and with a grateful nod, Amanda stepped through the doorway and entered the marketplace again to head for the galley.
As she clutched a cup of coffee and waited for her food, she began to think about what she would do now, and how she would go about it. There wasn’t much for her to do. Stay here, perhaps? She couldn’t; she had to make a living and doubted that she could find work other than barmaid in the obnoxious bar she had heard about. Barmaid, if she was lucky. The fact was, she had never been anything other than a scavenger; she had grown up travelling with her parent’s caravan and had never known any other craft than that. She still had the brahmin, she had the knowledge and she had the supplies, anti-radiation meds, stimpacks and other essentials, but what she lacked were fighting skills. She gave in to no illusion that, alone, she would survive no longer than a few days at the most.
For as protected as she had been, her parents had never allowed her the use of a gun and had kept her out of all fights as much as it had been possible. Now that she was without their protection, she was without any chance of fending for herself at all.
Her plate arrived and after a thankful nod, Amanda dug into her food with single minded determination. After the meal she felt even more restored, and she realised that if she wanted to get on the road again, she needed a caravan guard or two; she had the funds to pay for some time in advance, her father hadn’t managed to drink the lot away. For a reason she hadn’t quite understood, her parents hadn’t wanted to stay long in Rivet City. She suspected it might have to do with the mercs, or maybe even with the fact that Harkness had visibly shown his discontent about the bruise on her cheek. People had commented on her father’s treatment of her before, and Amanda could imagine that Harkness wouldn’t have kept his mouth shut forever. And for as little as she knew about him, Amanda had no doubt that he was a man not to be easily crossed. In a way, it made her feel a tiny bit better to know that for whatever reason, he was feeling protective towards her.
That didn’t solve her problem about the guards however. Yet at precisely that moment she spotted a familiar face at the stall for miscellaneous goods where a few packs of cigarettes had just changed ownership. Emptying her cup, she stood up with a decisive move and reminded herself that she had to get a grip on her life; because there was no one left to do so but her.
Stronger than death itself 7a/?
Courage is being scared to death... and saddling up anyway. ~John Wayne
After having locked herself up in her tiny cabin for four days, the sheer raw physical force of hunger made Amanda finally peel herself out of her cocoon of self-pity, grief, fear and pain. But even as she opened the door and blinked against the light that was harsh in her eyes after the long time she had spent in darkness, she realised she was still wearing her bloodied, dirty clothes, and not only did she look dreadful, she smelled dreadful, too.
So she went back inside, picked up spare clothing and after a serious wash and a change of clothes, felt restored enough to face the world again. She made her way through the ship hesitatingly, and had to admit after a few false turns that she had managed to get herself lost. Yet as she stood there and debated which door to take next, one of them opened and through it came a couple, holding the door open for her. Relieved and with a grateful nod, Amanda stepped through the doorway and entered the marketplace again to head for the galley.
As she clutched a cup of coffee and waited for her food, she began to think about what she would do now, and how she would go about it. There wasn’t much for her to do. Stay here, perhaps? She couldn’t; she had to make a living and doubted that she could find work other than barmaid in the obnoxious bar she had heard about. Barmaid, if she was lucky.
The fact was, she had never been anything other than a scavenger; she had grown up travelling with her parent’s caravan and had never known any other craft than that. She still had the brahmin, she had the knowledge and she had the supplies, anti-radiation meds, stimpacks and other essentials, but what she lacked were fighting skills. She gave in to no illusion that, alone, she would survive no longer than a few days at the most.
For as protected as she had been, her parents had never allowed her the use of a gun and had kept her out of all fights as much as it had been possible. Now that she was without their protection, she was without any chance of fending for herself at all.
Her plate arrived and after a thankful nod, Amanda dug into her food with single minded determination. After the meal she felt even more restored, and she realised that if she wanted to get on the road again, she needed a caravan guard or two; she had the funds to pay for some time in advance, her father hadn’t managed to drink the lot away. For a reason she hadn’t quite understood, her parents hadn’t wanted to stay long in Rivet City. She suspected it might have to do with the mercs, or maybe even with the fact that Harkness had visibly shown his discontent about the bruise on her cheek. People had commented on her father’s treatment of her before, and Amanda could imagine that Harkness wouldn’t have kept his mouth shut forever. And for as little as she knew about him, Amanda had no doubt that he was a man not to be easily crossed.
In a way, it made her feel a tiny bit better to know that for whatever reason, he was feeling protective towards her.
That didn’t solve her problem about the guards however. Yet at precisely that moment she spotted a familiar face at the stall for miscellaneous goods where a few packs of cigarettes had just changed ownership. Emptying her cup, she stood up with a decisive move and reminded herself that she had to get a grip on her life; because there was no one left to do so but her.
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