Behind the opaque goggles, Poe's eyebrows raised as the elevator disgorged three people - a tribal, a filthy looking settler, and a nightkin. Poe had traveled halfway across the wasteland from St. Louis, but even he had only ever seen one before. He had heard more about them than he had seen of them, and apparently even the best of them could be highly erratic.

That was fine with him. He liked erratic.

Poe got up from the couch and hefted the baseball bat over his shoulder, taking a few steps away from the table before looking up and speaking.

"Hey you, big and blue." He called up to Scraps. "You can keep the grenade, but can you send down the boy? He agreed to let me beat him to death. Just push him over the railing, a'right?" An easy, if wicked rictus grin was stretched across his face as he spoke. "As for the rest of you motes, get down here. Tenpenny and House will be along in a while and you lot are organized into what is commonly referred to as a target rich environment."