IC date: DATE
OOC date: 04/12
Location: Crane-City
PCs: Snakebite Overhaul

The door to Grinder's 'house', if that's what one could call it, opens up. It slides to the side with a slight aged groan of rust and friction. Grinder has fallen asleep, worn out from the previous battle with slavers that had been fought more by her friends than herself; she was occupied, having been caught in a razorwire trap. Slowly but steadily Overhaul, the weapon-heavy pegasus, steps out the door onto the dusty ground. He shuts the door behind him with an easy most smaller ponies would struggle to acheive.

The grey and brown form of Snakebite sat across the street, leaned up against one of the rusting container walls. A number of bandages, healing potions, Dash inhallers and a tins of Buck tabs laid out before her. The traditional look of a street merchant. If one without a stall. Snakebite's ear flicked at the sound from across the street, the mare herself screwing the lid onto a tin and tucking it away into her cloak before raising her head to regard Overhaul.

It's not the gaze that promises a quick and leathal bludgeoning at the slightest provocation like before. Nope, this gaze brings to mind scalpels, precision and plenty of time.

The gaze returned from the stallion isn't one suggesting harm, or that he wishes to impose a real threat of any kind upon the mare. His brow is lightly narrowed though the rest of his face is mostly blank. The look in his eyes is what truly sets his tone as being more curious than anything else. A 'friend' of Grinder's is a friend of his after all…so he's at least given the benefit of the doubt that Snakebite isn't an enemy regardless of her attitude towards him. Overhaul slowly makes his way to her and stands silent for a moment. A single word, nay, a question, is asked to confirm what he's suspected and likely figured out since he first met the cloaked stranger.


"Yes," said Snakebite, "what is it to you, Stable pony?" There's a hint of spite in her words. Though why is hard to tell. The mare shifted slightly where she sat, a hoof dissapearing underneat her duster.

Overhaul huffs as he tries to think of how to phrase what he wants to get across. Words don't seem to be his strong point, though if he's always been that way is an entirely different matter. He knows he's lucky, as far as earth-bound pegasi are concerned. His flanks never had to receive the mark of betrayal. He had never been shunned from a seeming metropolis compared to what the rest of the world below had become. But, at the same time he understands what it's like to be cast out and that shows a bit in his eyes.

The stallion gives a slight nod to Snakebite as "Yes. Stable. Not Enclave" escapes softly in his somewhat deep voice. He's far from sure that the mare actually beleives he's not an Enclave spy.

Snakebite snorted. "And that makes just another dirt pony." The mare leaned back against the wall, her hoof slipping from under her coat to push her akubra back slightly - revealing a flash of crimson mane underneath. "I ask again, what is it to you if I'm Dashite or not?"

Overhaul cocks his head to the side, breaking his gaze at the fellow pegasi. He's thinking of what words to use; it's as if there's so much going on in his mind that there's only so much room to allow for talking. Eventually he seems to at least somewhat fill in the blank and put a semi-coherent set of words together.

"Dashite. Traitor…good traitor. Not bad…not Enclave."

The stallion seems to be trying to imply that he'd rather her be a Dashite than an Enclave soldier.

Snakebite eyed Overhaul for several long minutes before sighing for herself and shaking her head. "Yeah, sure…" The mare sat silent for several long moments before glancing up at Overhaul again, from under the rim of her hat. Then over to Grinder's little house. "Why'd you help her?"

A certain longing reveals itself from behind the stallion's eyes. He turns to look towards the house himself and thinks on the question. To him, the question is a little more obvious to anypony else. He doesn't exactly go around telling the tragedy that's been his life the last couple of months to anypony. In fact, the pegasus doesn't go around sayign much of anything and perhaps things are simpler that way for him. "Little. Good." He responds with. Simple.

Snakebite noded slightly for herself, even though there was little to make out of the answer. "You're not one to talk much I supose. Still, my curiousity is sated. We'll get along, if we have too. Just don't do any… funny busines."

Overhaul frowns, though the disappointment seems to be in himself rather than in the Dashite. "I won't" he states, suggesting he's no intention of said 'funny business'. His head turns to look again at Grinder's metal fort before asking Snakebite a question of his own. "Why you?"

"None of your busines," said Snakebite, eyes hard, as she hauled herself onto her hooves, her wings shifting ever so slightly underneath her duster. With a huff she reached down, starting to pack her belongings right back up.

Overhaul frowns ever so slightly. It seems his questions aren't as worthy of answering regardless of the fact that he's answered for the most part what he's been asked. His eyes close for a moment as he takes in a deep breath of thought. "Name?" he asks. Maybe it's one question that won't be too inconvenient for Snakebite to answer.

The mare glanced up from a the tin of Buck she was sealing up. After a moment of thought she slid the tin into one of her many pockets and stood up straight, her things packed away. "I supose you could call me Snakebite. It's not the name I was born with, but it's the name I've taken since…" The pegasus mare trailed off, her gaze drifting off in the distance. For a moment anyway, then it snapped right back, hard and sharp. "So Snakebite it is."

Overhaul nods his head slowly a few times in acknowledgement. He looks at the pegasus for a long while with a very narrowed brow as if he's got something on his mind that he really wants to get out. His gaze turns towards the ground as he loses himself in thought before shifting it from the unicorn filly's place to Snakebite.

As the stallion thinks Snakebite starts to walk, the soft clop of her hooves against the ground barely audiable even this close. "I'd wish you farewell or 'good day', but considering… everything, that's not going to happen." With that the mare turned a corner, dissapearing.

Just as the mare makes her way around the corner, he finally manages to squeeze out the thought he'd been fighting with. It sounds slightly struggled as if he wasn't sure about it and almost sounds a hair on the desperate side. It's certainly spoken firmly enough to be heard.


There's no answer.

And there's no Snakebite.

If she could see his face, she'd see the slight drop as one of the few hopes he has left is let down. Overhaul lets out a long deep sigh before turning around and walking back towards the shipping containers occupied by Grinder. He stops and looks back over his shoulder in the hopes maybe Snakebite will have turned around. After opening the door back up, he turns around and lies down in the entrance…staring out with a watchful eye much like a guard dog protecting a precious treasure.