The sun is rising in the Mojave Wasteland, glaring down bright and hot much like it always does, and life in the vast...sometimes desolate desert begins to stir awake. Soon, the people of the Wasteland will go about their daily schedules, whatever they may be, and engage in the game that every man, woman, and child play day in and day out in this dangerous world, the game called survival. This is no different for the small, growing town of Independence. To many of its residents, the little community stands as a light of hope shining in the darkness of today's world, where people can live their lives away from all the politicking, corruption, and desperation for power that many of the Mojave's factions and forms of government possess. It is a place of freedom, hard work, and community...but every community, no matter the intentions of its people, has its own set of problems, and Independence is not by any means immune to that fact. For the time being though, all seems quiet on the trouble front as the peaceful sounds of the morning bring about the new day. With all the desolation and destruction that the fall of atomic bombs gifted the once great country all those years ago, sometimes there is a beauty to it all, and with the sun rising to its place in the morning sky, that beauty did its best to show through. It was just another day in the Mojave, another day in the little town of Independence.
His dreams were full of days passed, mistakes made, and blood spilled, all the things that the sleeping man felt made up the world he lived in, though, as the sun rose outside, its beams began to shine through the window of his simple, hand-built home. The brightness of the morning sun found its way to the sleeping man's eyes as they moved around rapidly behind his closed eyelids, and soon stirred him from his slumber. Sighing, the man named Hunter Bradshaw rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he forced himself to sit up on the edge of his...less than comfortable metal bed. He had never been one that needed too many of the creature comforts that Wasteland so rarely provided, and so he was accustomed to his simplistic way of life, but the aching in his back sometimes suggested he should alter a few of those ways. As he sat there, staring at the floor, he ran through all that had happened in the hours of dreaming he had engaged in during his...rather short night's rest. Each memory and fantasy played through in his mind to the best of his remembrance, and each one grew darker and more brutal, and so he decided, as he regularly did, to lock them away in the depths of his mind until they would inevitably be released again the next time he attempted to close his eyes and rest; something that didn't come easy.
Hunter had done quite a few things that he wasn't proud of, things that he normally tried to forget, to move away from, but those things always found their way back to him, the guilt shortly to follow. He had turned his life around however, taking residence in the rather new little place called Independence, even going as far to take up the job as Deputy of Independence, under the town's local Sheriff, Jeb Murdock. The waking man had done a lot of good during his time in the growing settlement, and he knew that this was only the beginning, and that his fresh start here was something of a blessing. To him, if he could help as many folk as he had taken part in hurting, then he was doing something half right, but those intentions, no matter how modest, were sometimes won over by the circumstances of Wasteland life...something that seemed to be the case more times than not. He was a good man, trying to live an honest life in Independence as its Deputy, but sometimes he did grow sick of all the bullshit that came along with the job. That said, things had been quiet as of late, other than the normal drama of life in the town, and they had all been lucky to get along rather peacefully for the last few weeks...something that cried out to Hunter that something bad was probably about to happen. No matter though, because bad things happened everyday in the Mojave, and even in their peaceful little haven of sorts sometimes things got bad...real bad, and when they did he would be there to help any way he could to clean them up.
Placing his hands flat on his thighs, he used them as leverage to assist in standing to his feet. Once up, he stretched his sore body and walked over to his make-shift mirror, a shined up piece of scrap metal that was left over from the construction of the city's gates, that he took to be his own. Staring at the blurred reflection looking back at him, he dipped his hands into the bucket of water placed atop a table next to him, using the cool-to-the-touch liquid to clean the grime from his face and neck. Wetting his hair and then drying off, Hunter thought about the agenda of the day; planning out his usual rounds of patrol in the town and remembering that the Sheriff had asked to meet up with him sometime around noon, but before he'd begin his daily duties, he'd go grab a bite to eat, as was his usual morning routine, and so he got dressed, pinning his badge to his shirt, and lacing up his boots before heading out to greet the day.
Once he was outside, the Deputy could hear the usual sounds of the town; Bighorners mooing in the background, calm chit-chat from those who had already awakened, and even the sounds of children playing around town. Hunter walked the short distance to the Meet'N'Eat, the town's only diner, located in the center of the town, and walked inside.
"Mornin' Deputy!" Ben Roann exclaimed enthusiastically as Hunter set foot inside the door. "Wantin' your usual today? Or are ya' in the mood to try something different?" The man said with a genuine smile on his face.
"The usual is fine Ben." Hunter responded donning his very own, still half asleep smile. As he took his usual seat at the far side of the diner, where he could see every other seat in the place just in case, he motioned over to Ben's kids Marry and Alex who were still busy preparing things for the days crowd. "Hey kids." He said kindly, and Marry waved back to him with her big bright smile that could brighten up the day of anyone, even a Deathclaw, and Alex looked up from what he was doing and giggled a little, giving the Deputy his own crooked little wave before going back to his work. Hunter was glad to see kids in Independence seem relatively happy, as well as safe, and it gave him a sense of worth knowing that he'd doing anything to protect those two...especially Alex, who's autism kept him from being able to protect himself. It was then that Ben Roann brought over the Deputy's "usual", a hot bowl of pseudo-oatmeal, and an ice cold Sunset Sarsaparilla; to which he was basically addicted to. He took a drink of his favoite beverage, taking it in with delight; maybe whatever trouble he knew was bound to be brewing soon would hold off its arrival today...it just felt like it was supposed to be a good day.