smelltheashes | The Reception

The Reception

In the depths of the bunker beneath the Greenbrier Resort Hotel is a massive, columned room, intended to be used to hold sessions of Congress in the event of a nuclear war.

Today, it's being put to a very different and much less somber purpose.

The wedding is over; the party has begun.

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The next person in line is a woman in her early twenties, but something about her seems much younger. "You're from Milliways, aren't you?" she asks. "I haven't been there in forever."

Voodoo shrugs. "I'm from a lot of places. Bar's one of them."

"That's where I met him, anyways," says Shephard. "Voodoo, this here's Chell Johnson, my recently acquired sister. Chell, this here's Voodoo, and he's dressed up like a lighthouse in training on account of him bein' in the Navy."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Voodoo," says Chell, extending a hand for a shake.

"It's just 'Voodoo'," he says, returning the handshake. "And likewise, Chell."

He'll leave the what-exactly-does-"recently-acquired"-mean questions for later.

Annabelle Newfield is standing by Shephard. Voodoo likely saw her standing as one of Alyx's bridesmaids.

She has a gun belt with two pistols slung across her hips, which may look a little odd with a formal pantsuit. (When you can aim at and hit two different targets at the same time, you need two guns to get the job done.)

"Evening," she says with a smile and an extended hand. "I don't think we've met."

Voodoo's eyes glance down to the pistols before he clasps her hand in his and shakes it.

"Don't believe we have. I remember the kind of people who pack at weddings."

He - for once - does not have his Sig with him.

Annabelle chuckles. "Figured nobody'd want to deal with me if I tried to go unarmed. Twitchy doesn't begin to cover it."

"Annabelle Newfield, formerly in the business of saving my own world and now in the business of saving the worlds of other folk through the Bar."

"People call me Voodoo. I do odd jobs."

That's it in a nutshell.

"Good to meet you, Voodoo," Annabelle says with a smile. "I've been in some damn odd jobs myself," Annabelle adds with a wink. "Odd enough that people would be much happier filing them under fiction."

"Well now," Voodoo says. "Don't know about 'fiction', but I can tell you a whole lot of people would be a whole lot happier if I didn't work at all."

"That too," Annabelle allows. "Of course, most of the folks in a position to be unhappy are no longer among the living."

"Same here," Voodoo says. "Same here."

The next person in line is a balding Caucasian man in a lab coat and thick glasses. "Doctor Isaac Kleiner, at your service, Mister Voodoo," he says, giving the SEAL's hand a vigorous shake.

Sheesh, what's with everyone calling him 'Mister' today?

Not that he's complaining, you see. Not really.

Even so, he shakes his head and smiles as he returns the handshake. "It's just 'Voodoo', Doc. Ain't been called 'mister' in a long, long time."

"Alright. And how do you know our happy couple?"

"Well now," Voodoo says. "Alyx almost shot me, and I almost shot Gordon. It got better from there. Even helped them out in Australia and Mongolia, with the Gene Worms."

"You did? Splendid! We're always happy to have additional assistance."

It's questionable whether the almost-shooting part has sunk in.

And you know what? Voodoo's good with that.

With a slight nod of the head by way of acknowledgement:

"The best of the United States Navy, at your service. Ain't ever fought anything like the Combine, but they bleed like everything else."

Edited 2012-05-11 02:25 (UTC)

"Not precisely like anything else," says Kleiner. "The majority of the Combine's biomechanically enhanced forces have had their blood adulterated with various chemicals and nanites, or even replaced completely with a saline solution so as to make them completely dependent upon..."

This could go on for a while.

And Voodoo?

Well, he'll just sit and listen for this part.

No, really, it's kind of interesting. The more you know and all that.

"...complete removal of the excretory system--"

"Uh, Doc?" Alyx calls. "You're holding up the line..."

"Oh dear. Terribly sorry." Dr. Kleiner clears his throat. "A pleasure to meet you, Voodoo."

"Likewise, Doc."

"I think this is where I'm supposed to say hello," says Ellen, "since I was in the bridal party too. Hi, Voodoo."

"Hey, Ellen. Reception treating you alright so far?"

Edited 2012-05-11 04:02 (UTC)

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