In the crumbling remains of an office apartment building, a collection of people huddled amidst a maze of cubicles, standing or sitting in the dryest spots they could find while rain pounded outside. A hastily made fire, fueled by the papers and files that had once been important to the company that had owned this building now seemed so meaningless. To be honest, conditions were slightly miserable. 

To avoid the hefty fines and payments that Laketon applied to any people who came through their territory, the caravan was forced to take refuge in the most intact building they could find. It was mostly a standoff for the time being. Laketon was refusing to allow anyone passage across the bridge for their stay within the area, and as a result, Jones was slightly angry as he sipped on a mug of still hot boiled water. 

"Agh... they can't just shove us out and not let us across! Regulations be damned, I don't care if the attacks have increased, they're just lying to fuck us over..." He almost threw the cup then and there, before remembering fresh water wasn't a commodity. He sat back down on the milk crate that was now his little throne, sighing. 

"Sorry guys, I know it sucks being stranded while it rains... but my money grubbing hands just won't accept their ridiculous prices." Sitting across from Jones on a bucket, a heavy set man nodded. "We can handle a few days in the toilet, boss," Ron said, grinning slightly. "Its what you pay us for, isn't it?" 

Catherine herself walked up to Jones and tossed a granola bar at him that she had found while snooping in the back rooms, before unwrapping another one and taking a bite out of it. "Hey, I get paid by the day, so these delays are fine by me," she said.

Ron grunted, saying "You coulda at least brought me one," under his breath. The blonde haired man who had first been wary of Catherine was finally starting to get used to her, and the goods she brought it. Jones smiled, snapping his own in half and tossing it to the man, who gladly munched on the snack. 

"You ever think..." Ron said, mouth full. "That these things will go bad? I mean, yeah its kind of stale, but the preservatives in this thing can't be healthy at all." He swallowed the rest of it, stifling a belch. "Its been what," he said, counting his fingers for a few seconds. "Seventeen years since they stopped production of those? And still, look at us now." 

"...I don't even know what a preservative _is_," Catherine admitted, taking another bite. "But food's food, and I haven't gotten food poisoning from one of these yet."

Jones chuckled, stretching his hands behind his head as he leaned back. Another member of the brigade spoke up, a chestnut haired woman with a ponytail. Her slightly seductive clothing marked her as the type who offered certain kinds of 'services', but she was still a member of the caravan. "Oh man, you wouldn't believe the kind of food poisoning you can get from pre-fall stuff. I had the shits for a week after eating this 'chicken in a can'. Throwin' up and blowing it out my rear end at the same time." She also had a filthy mouth to go along with it.

"I'll try not to remember that next time I hire you, Nova," Catherine replied, with a bit of a grimace, though that was _definitely_ from the slightly stale granola bar. Totally.

---

Lucius’ walking finally came to a halt at a crumbling old building. The moment he stopped moving his legs felt like they were going to give out, but flopping to the ground in the middle of nowhere wouldn't have been the safest thing to do. For all Lucius knew there could be a bunch of lost right round the corner just waiting for their opportunity to eat the poor man alive. It wasn't an image he particularly liked and so summoned the strength to stay upright. "This place doesn't look too bad" he muttered to himself. One couldn't be picky about the stayed when they were out in the wastes. A roof and a couple of walls could easily be considered a luxury. 

Lucius found himself reactively adopting a prone position and unsheathing his machete when he heard a noise from inside. _'Was that a burp?'_ he asked himself. He remained completely still as he strained his ears for more sounds of life, struggling to hear anything over the pitter patter of the rain. Much to his distress he could faintly hear chatting inside. He found his gaze drifting over the landscape but there were no other suitible looking constructs to take shelter in. 

At that moment, the thud of boots walking sounded near the doorway to the building. A rugged looked man peered out at the streets as a sentry should do. Of course, the lack of visibility to the rain proved too much for him, and he gave up, walking back to his own dry spot, cursing the power of Mother Nature to no end.

Lucius' heart began thumping wildly in his chest when the sentry appeared in the doorway. He could just about see him and was horrified when the man looked directly at him. Surely he had to have spotted Lucius? Maybe he was playing dumb and went to get reinforcments? Lucius decided to play it risky and strolled into the building as confidently as he could, as if his presence was nothing out of the usual.

The man of course paid no attention. That sort of thing was reserved to the porno mag held between his hands as he licked his lips. The title of said magazine was 'Backdoor Sluts Nine.' Only a small grunt of a word was said as a modicum of thought was given to the person. "Don't tell Jones and I won't tell him you went off alone." Was said before he leaned back in the flexible computer chair. 

Lucius had expected some measure of confrontation but found himself dumbfounded by the man's stupidity. He didn't speak a word in response and instead found himself tilting his head to read the title of whatever magazine had this man so distracted. Lucius grimaced and turned away awkwardly, deciding to head towards the voices he could hear elsewhere. 

On the second floor of the building, the people situated around the fire still kept to their conversation. "Well, if you're going to hire her again, go find the bathroom and keep the noise down." Jones said, grinning. "That goes twice for you, Nova. I know how you can squeal like a pig." She mock scoffed, taking little offense to the comment, however Catherine's face lit up an extraordinarily bright shade of red.

Ron shook his head, wishing he hadn't started the whole conversation. "I'm goin' to take a piss, I'll be right back." Ron stood up from the group, waving a hand as he left, walking down the stairs. Of course, being the big loaf he was, ran straight into Lucius, elicitating a dull thud as the two collided with eachother.

Lucius was hit hard by the impact and knocked completely off balance, his body sent tumbling into a nearby table that collasped on inpact. The fall wasn't as painfall as it may have looked but it still left Lucius a bit dazed and unable to prompty adress what just happened. 

"Ah, shit man, sor-" came the response of a distressed Ron, who stopped after a few seconds once he got a good look. It was obvious to the man who had been part of the caravan for a few months that the person he was looking at wasn't one of them. For a moment, it was almost like a  standoff as Ron stared wide eyed. 

As Lucius' head stopped spinning he looked up at the big oaf towering above him and only two words sprung to mind: *'oh'* and *'shit'*. The position which he was currently sprawled in didn't even allow him to subtly go for a weapon and instead he was forced to merely spread his palms in surrender. "My name's Lucius. I don't mean any harm or trouble, I was just trying to get out of that god awful weather." he admitted honestly. 

Ron bit his lower lip for a moment, before letting out a sigh. "God damn it, Jim. Fuckin' worse sentry in the damn world... I keep tellin' him 'keep a good watch or our throats'll be slit in our sleep' and yet he just ignores my word. Even Jones can't get him to do a good job. We only keep him around 'cause he's good with mechanical parts but..." 

"He spends too much time reading dirty magazines?" Lucius interjected in a rueful attempt to build rapport. 

"Yeah! He spends half his money buyin' those pre-Hailstorm mags, the women in those don't even look too good. I bet he's just got a small pecker which is why he only sticks to those mags... What a dick," Ron said, dusting himself off as he extended a hand to Lucius. 

Lucius accepted the hand and in a not so graceful way managed to climb to his feet. As he stood face to face with Ron he felt more confident, knowing that it would now be easier to fight back. That was hardly his intention though. "Thanks," he said as he begun dusting himself off, "What happens now then?" 

"Well... you haven't taken any of our shit, and you haven't stabbed me in the throat, so... I guess you're welcome to stay? Pretty sure Jones wouldn't mind... Even though he discourages bringing in strays." Ron waved a hand, inviting Lucius to follow him. "Welcome to the temporary base of Abrams Caravan. We got a fire set up, and I'm sure we can find you a bucket to sit on." Ron grinned slightly.

Of course, his rambling led them to be in front of said fire already. "Hey, guys, look who Jim let slip by!"

Catherine took a look at the older man that Ron had brought in, and shook her head. "For crying out loud, we could have just set up a banana and it'd be a better sentry than Jim. At least then trespassers would have a chance to trip on it!" Catherine let out a groan of protest. "Oh, well. Just don't kill us in our sleep and you'll be fine, I guess."

Nova hummed, "Oh man, I'd deep throat a banana all the way if I got to eat it. I'm tired of beans." 

Catherine chuckled. "Nova, you'd deep throat a banana just for _practice._"

She shrugged, "Well you're right in that department."