((Collab between Madly33 and Letter Bee))

As Par drove through the bridge to Liberty Island, he was asked to declare his cargo again, causing him to report a reduced amount of bottlecaps, purified water, and food, before saying:

"I also have several passengers with me, Freed Slaves from...you know. I was hoping you know where you can give them a home?" This caused one of the guards to look darkly at him, before saying:

"Go to the mayor for that. He's bleeding-heart enough to want more mouths to feed. Now, the tip?"

Par handed the guard a couple of caps, then drove to a parking lot, where he got the freed slaves; two adults and eight children, out of the truck.

"Now," the 19-year old man said kindly, "let's go to the mayor."

He then began walking, motioning for them to follow. As they were in unfamilar surroundings, none of the freed slaves ran away.

"Aye um, that seems to be a lot of kids for a man as young as you" John chucked as he yelled at the new arrivals.  He stood up and walked toward the unfamiliar man. He looked at the kids as they walked along and the two adults, their tattered clothing and out right look of dirt and stench was a clear sign of slavery. He looked over to the man again. "What brings you to Liberty City?" He asked weary from his lack of sleep. He was also cautious as there was a raider threat and suddenly a man with a truck full of slaves pulls in.

Par looked at the ragged, but heavily-armed man who accosted him, seeing in that man's eyes the look of a survivor and warrior. He then decided to tell the truth.

"Ah, I'm going to see my friend, the Mayor. You see, I just freed some people and am bringing them over to City Hall to get them a new home, room, and board. Although, now that I think about it, getting them new clothes - they already ate and drank on the way - was something I overlooked. Do you know where I can get some new clothing?" He then looked John in the eyes, his glasses glinting in the light.

"And yes, I freed them after buying them; I also freed more and kept them on as paid workers; paying good purified water and food, too."

[i]Old Man's Corner[/i] John presumed. "Aye? You seem to be a stange young man" He said plainly, watching him closely. John had never been one to sugarcoat the things that left his mouth. "What did you do with the paid ones?" He asked. A paid slave was indeed free but paid to do what is how this man would be judged in John's eyes.  

"They're at the New York Public Library's Main Branch, or rather, its ruins, salavaging books. I'm a Book Runner; I sell guns too, more than books, but, well, let's just say that knowledge is our love, or rather, my love. The Book Runners are searching the library for texts on agriculture, medicine, technology, and even history so we can stop ourselves from repeating the same mistakes over and over." Par smiled.

"Let's just say that with the Brotherhood searching and confiscating 'advanced technology', this is a niche we fit in nicely."

"Now, direct me to the clothes' shop, please?"

[b][i]Timeskip[/i][/b]

As the owner of the clothes shop directed the freed slaves in the process of dressing in new outfits, Par then spoke to John.

"So, what's your name? And, clearly, you must be a trained fighter, someone with a grudge in his eyes, as well as someone who's...seen things."

John usually skipped the formality of names but since the young man had been so out right with him as of his arrival he thought to share. "Names John." He paused and looked up as the clothes were shuffed over to the slaves while they dressed. He rubbed the sweat off his forehead "I guess you could say that, I've seen what most people have seen in this land. Death and shit holes" He looked back up at the slaves and pointed at the kids, "I used to be like them, rotting away in Old Mans Corner, lookin for anything that meant maybe I could stop working, even for an hour" He spoke angerly and looked down. He let his emotions get the better of him.

"What about you? These so called "Book runners" There a lot of you?" He asked the man quietly.

Par sympathized, while at the same time, this confirmed [i]one[/i] of his objections to slavery; that it bred the best warriors and survivors, who inevitably escaped and held grudges. He thanked, well, whoever it was up there for helping him avoid being the target of one of said grudges.

"Well," the young man spoke, "a fair few in Upstate New York. We build gun factories, schools, and help farmers rediscover how to make the land bring forth crops for them. We help rebuild civilization with the promise that, one day, there would be a land without raiders killing you in the night, or slavers taking you as you go to work. But we're not unselfish; we ask for a cut of the profits for everything that we do to rebuild." Par smiled.

"We'll probably end up corrupt and bloated in a few generations, but right now, we're building something good, or at least better than other things, with the power of money and barter."

"Oh, and my name is Paradise 'Par' Rapids, by the way," he held out a hand, before his face turned serious again.

"You say that you've seen a lot; what do you know of the Brotherhood? What are they actually [i]doing[/i]?"

John smirked and chuckled at his forwardness in his words. "The Brotherhood?" he glared. "All they seem to do now adays is sit in there safe house and pretend to help us. I've only met a few in my days, I guess you could call them military men. They are leeches." John spat. "I cannot say complete horrible words agaisnt them though" He took out water and sipped it. "They [i] do[/i] help when they choose to" He looked over the the other side of the room. "and I've had some personal connection to them" He trailed, avoiding  question.

He glanced over to the counter as the slaves finished up getting clothes. "Looks like they are done. Off to your friend?" He chuckled.

"Of course, of course," Par said as he and the freed slaves moved away...