War. War never changes. And neither, it seems, does the wasteland. Over 200 years since the Great War scarred the earth, scorching the land and searing the earth in it's final, fiery climax that plunged the world into nuclear winter, and brought upon it the greatest disaster Earth has ever seen. Three great nations clashed, the Eagle, the Bear, and the Tiger--three great animals that, by themselves, managed to end civilization as it was known. And now, over two decades later, life is still a struggle. Survival is a privilege, it seems, one that is granted only to a fair few. Men and women venture into what has become known simply as the wastelands, never to return. Roving bands of raiders pillage and maim, murder and rape. The only law is frontier law, eye for an eye, and vengeance is cold, brutal, and sometimes swift. Retribution comes not from any police force or military, but from those who feel wronged. The value of life has become significantly smaller, people killing one another without a second thought or moments hesitation.

The Great War brought about change. Change in the earth, in the flora and fauna, and even to humanity itself. Cockroaches thrived in the new radiation-filled environment, growing substantially, as did other insects like flies, ants, and scorpions. Some creatures that never existed began to appear, like molerats and Deathclaws. Others animals such as black bears became far more viscous and deadly, roving the land just looking for something to eat or kill. The world has become a dangerous, deadly place, and it's a wonder anything could have survived. But humanity has a way of proving time and time again that it has what it takes to adapt to nearly any situation, no matter how bad it gets. Mankind moved on, some surviving in vaults, others in smaller fallout shelters. And still OTHERS managed to live through the radioactive hell hole that was Planet Earth for decades.

And now, in the area known as the Capitol Wastelands, one tiny insignificant speck in the scheme of the much grander world at large, one of the survivors in this deadly world trudges through the sand and the dust, sun bleating down upon her shoulders and sweat glistening on her forehead. Letting out a soft sigh as her black leather boots kick up little plumes of dust, Arianna Lahar stopped for a moment to rest, leaning against a large blackened rock and withdrawing a canteen from her hip, placing the metal to her lip and enjoying the crisp, refreshing water that she allowed to cascade across her face and through her lengthy blonde hair. Closing her eyes, she let out another sigh, this one of contentment, to have a chance to cool off. Waste of water? Perhaps, but she could buy more. She had the caps for it--and she had knowledge enough to gain caps if she came up short. Being skilled in the medical field, as well as the sciences and repair meant that wherever she went, she could always land a few caps or trade for a favor.

Fastening her canteen back to her hip, Ari gazed at the giant hunk of metal that was Megaton, just a few minutes away. She was almost there...almost. She could kick back at Moriarty's, have a drink, and then....what? Pushing herself from the boulder, she stepped forward once more, considering. She needed to get a lab going. Correction, she needed to get a NEW lab going, because some jackass piece of shit raiders decided they wanted to see just how explosive a lab full of very valuable and very hard to come by medical equipment could be. Frowning at the memory of coming back to the only place she could call home a blackened husk of wood and debris, she shook her head softly as the town of Megaton seemed to grow larger and larger against the horizon.

She needed more lab equipment so she could continue her research. She KNEW she could manage this time! She had been on the crux of discovery before the raiders ruined EVERYTHING. Still, she hadn't been stupid. She had one single vial of what was possibly the very first "cure" for Ghoulism in the wastes. One tiny vial of serum held in a freakishly fragile glass container. Her life's work. Or, rather, her life's work over the last three years. Her LIFE's work had been destroyed in the flames that cleansed the world of Raven Rock. And good riddance too, Ari thought, as she remembered seeing the plumes of smoke rising through the air from the Northwest. She hardly believed it when rumors began to spread, whispers that the Enclave were destroyed. She would've gone to see for herself...but that would've brought her by...the place. The spot she hadn't visited in 3 years. Her eyes, brighter blue than the cloudless sky above, began to glisten with tears as she remembered her sister and her sacrifice.

Just GO already! One of us needs to survive this, Ari--it might as well be you. Run!! The words echoed in her mind, and the glistening in her eyes became tears as they trailed down her cheeks. Reaching up, she gently withdrew the holotags that hung around her neck, holding onto the one that read "Kara H. Lahar." "I miss you so much, Kara...." she muttered softly, a whisper in the calm stillness of the afternoon. She blinked as she heard a metalic click, and a robotic voice in front of her. "Welcome to Megaton Ma'am. Enjoy your stay." She had been so lost in the memory of her sister, clad in Mk2 Power Armor, that she hadn't even realized she'd made it to the front gate of Megaton. She dried her eyes with the sleeve of her white labcoat that she wore, draped over her midriff blouse. Completing her outfit was her pants, leather and stained at the knees from years of wandering the wastes. She stared at Deputy Weld for a few moments, then decided it was time to enter. Nodding, she moved towards the gates, and heard the whirring clank of the motor as they lifted, revealing the entrance to the bustling town (in so much as a town could be bustling these days). She looked up, saw the sniper that guarded the place high above, and nodded slightly. The man returned the nod, and she crept forward, pushing her way through the door and into the town.

More out of habit than discomfort, Ari rested her right hand across the plasma pistol that was held in place at her hip by a brown leather holster. It was Enclave issue, both the gun and the holster, the primary weapon for field scientists and the backup weapon for officers. Her fingers rested on the ribbon tied around the handle, pink ribbon that stood out; it was hard not to see. A ribbon that belonged to her sister, worn in her hair. A ribbon she'd taken from her body, and had been wrapped around the handle of her weapon ever since. Slung across her back was another high tech weapon--her sister's plasma rifle. Hard to come by in the wastelands, and not very common, she knew such weaponry made her stand out to some extent. But nobody knew she was Enclave though. She didn't exactly go around advertising it. Ex-Enclave, Ari reminded herself quickly. If one looked carefully they could still see the slight discoloration on the right shoulder of her labcoat, which was slightly lighter and cleaner then the rest of it--where a patch had once been sewn in. A patch that Ari had removed long ago. Though she often came to Megaton for supplies, and knew both Moira Brown and the ghoul Gob at Moriarty's, she didn't have any friends here. She didn't trust easily, but it went beyond that. She also didn't want to care too much. The closest person to a friend she had was Moira, she genuinely liked the woman--and therefor made sure to keep distance between them.

It was time, Ari decided. Visit the Craterside Supply. She looked towards the old undetonated nuclear warhead in the center of town and shivered. Sure it wasn't active anymore (someone known as the Lone Wanderer disarmed it about two years ago, she heard that much over the radio), but it was still a symbol of the tragedy that befell the world two decades before. Craterside Supply was above the dismal weapon, she'd have to climb two flights of stairs. Lost deep in thought, Ari began to absent-mindedly ascend those stairs, hoping she'd find at least a few supplies to replace what she'd lost when her lab was destroyed.

The heat of the wasteland surrounded the figure walking over the red earth. Red dust blew along the ground and small rocks bounced back off of the persons legs, flinging back onto the ground. A black, sleek gas mask was sat upon the person's face. Lara never took the mask off, it was her identity in the wasteland. A heavy bag hung off of her shoulder, the black material contrasting harshly against her pale skin. Lara never had enjoyed travelling from the vault she had been living in, however, today was important. She had planned to travel to megaton and begin distributing a batch of her newest drug. her bag held the vials she had filled with the emerald coloured liquid, a total of 35 vials as opposed to the regular 6 or 7 she normally carried.

Her eyes looked through the glass of her gas mask and saw the metal mess of a town on the horizon; Megaton. The town of Megaton had managed to avoid her influence so far, though she knew a few of the townsfolk had searched out for her in the past. The town was on the poorer side, and Lara wasn't sure how they would pay her. They always found a way though, they knew the consequences.

Lara entered the city, and as she passed the atomic bomb that sat in a puddle of contaminated water, she ran her hand along the metallic surface. The metal was hot from the sun pounding it, and the heat radiated though her skin. The heat was a change from the cold, dampness of her home in Vault 11. She took in the sight of the town and scowled at the dirty, half built town that she saw. It had been years since the world really settled after the war, she knew the history and how the world had been altered so severely. She made her way to the general goods store, and began to browse. How would she set up her operation? Laced water? Food perhaps, no that woould be far too expensive.

She would have to plan further.

A ragged figure knelt inside the wreck of a car, covered with a grey shawl. His movements were long and slow, smoothly tracking his target as it rummaged through the pockets of a freshly murdered trader further down the road. The hunter had been waiting patiently here for hours after tracking a pair of raiders to a nearby hideout; the plan had been to ambush them, take their valuables and head back to Megaton for the bounty... Naturally it hadn't worked out so clean. The raiders had turned up with a dozen others in tow, forcing the hunter to hide and await a more opportune time to strike... and here it was. This single raider had murdered a caravanner out of sight and dragged the corpse to this relatively sheltered stop to loot; he was now unarmed, distracted and vulnerable.

The hunter eased forward into the car door frame, slowly shouldering his scrapbow and lining up the target; this idiot would only take one bolt at this range, provided he didn't make any sudden moves. Crosshair hovering just above and to the right of the raider's head, to adjust for the distance and wind, the hunter exhaled, paused for three heartbeats and fired. The bolt always seemed to fly slow during a hunt, taking long seconds to reach the target; long enough for the hunter to breathe and once again hold his breath in anticipation. To his satisfaction, the bolt cut clean through the raider's skull, throwing the degenerate to the ground. Overall a good, clean kill. Nevertheless he waited a further half hour before checking his prey, just in case. His reward was a handful of blood-soaked caps, a dozen 10mm rounds and a half broken pistol... Barely a hundred caps worth of take; hopefully the bounty would make up for it, even if he could only claim half. After retrieving the used bolt from the corpse, he checked out the caravanner; the man had been mutilated and anything valuable he had been carrying removed. The raider must have stashed them somewhere nearby, something to look for later. The hunter would have preferred to bury the innocent trader, but the sun was rising high; it wasn't safe to be out during the height of the day, when the raiders and wild animals were at their most active. He would retreat to his temporary home of Megaton and perhaps see about that reward...

His first stop when he arrived back in the town was the Mayor's office, where he was able to get at least part of the offered bounty; even with one of their leaders dead, the local bandits were a serious threat to the Megaton's prosperity. He considered trying again that night, perhaps even setting some traps around their suspected hideouts, but that was an idea for later. For the moment he had equipment to sell and some maintenance to perform; the action on his scrapbow could do with tightening; the only place to do both in this backwater would be Craterside Supply and it's neurotic owner, Moira... He scowled, not particularly happy that he would have to deal with her again; the woman seemed to know exactly how to throw him off balance. Still it wasn't as though there was much choice, so off he trudged.

As he reached the shop door, he noted a young woman also veering toward Craterside. Sciencey type by the look of her, the kind of egghead who made it clear that he had nothing to do with their business. Still, manners were manners... He pulled the door and stepped aside smartly, giving the young woman a polite smile as he allowed her in. 'Ladies first, lass.' Truth be told, he was as much keen in putting off dealing with Moira as being polite...

A high chatter laugh echoed out not far from the Super Duper Mart where two slim figures walked the tangle of a ruined city outlined behind them. "Ah come on Butchie! That was funny, Don't you get it mole rats and mirelurks!" The petite blonde was walking backwards facing her companion a huge grin on her face which soon faded as her companion glowered at her.

"Really!? You're still mad at me?" She adjusted the strap of the silver sniper rifle strapped to her back, which frankly looked too big for someone her size. The murderous look darkened, "Blondii you almost got me killed! Not to mention we had to swim all the way across that damn river! You know what that does to my hair, not to mention my jacket."

Blondii rolled her eyes and turned around skipping along, "That mirelurk was practically dead, and your hair? For gods sake you're a damn good barber and you can fix it perfectly. Right?" She flashed him a pretty smile, knowing the complement would bring him out of his funk. If anyone knew how to bring Butch Deloria out of his tough act it was her.

He finally sighed, the anger of tension leaving his body. He hadn't really been mad at her just a bit disgruntled. Seeing the mirelurks dying because of the fresh water had reminded him too much of The Wanderer and that always put him in a funk. "You're right about that, though I wished you let me put those "damn good barber skills" to work and get rid of those nasty dreads for you, I mean really they aren't doing you any good at all. And there's still the problem of my jacket." Butch rolled his shoulders the leather of his old Tunnel Snakes jacket creaking as he did so.

"Hey!" Blondi pouted. She ran a hand over her hair protectively the dreads and braids tinkling with the small things she'd picked up along the way. Beads she'd found in old stores they'd explored, children's barrettes taken off nightstands the bones of the little ones the only evidence of them ever being there. There was even an old bottle cap from an old world drink called "Sunset Sarsaparilla" that had a little star on the bottom of it. "I love my hair Butchie and I can't believe you'd say such horrible rotten things about it." She continued to pout at him green eyes peering through thick blonde lashes.

He rolled his eyes at her antics, "Don't do that, you know it doesn't work on me. Annnnd, you're still forgetting my Jacket." Blondii let out and exasperated breath and skipped on, "Always on about the jacket, wish I knew why it was so important to you. Anyway, I bet Moria can help you with it, she always has some idea running through that wacky head of hers. You should go see her and you could sell some of our loot while you're at it."

Butch's blue eyes widened, horrified, "Hell no! It's your turn to go deal with that psycho lady, I've done it the past few times and she always find some reason to make me stay longer, I think she has something for me. No way, nuh uh! Not doing it again!"

Blondii giggled and slid her arm into his, "Aww, I think it's adorable! Come on Butchie don't you want a pretty girl entranced by everything you do?" A small rare smile touched his lips, "You know I don't swing that way. And besides when would I have time for that when I have to take care of you're trouble making ass?" .

"Yeah, yeah as you always say. Now come on we're almost there see!" She pointed as they topped the hill overlooking the steel tangle of Megaton. "I'll take you're jacket and supplies to Moria and you can go down to Jenny's and grab a drink or something from her, Yeah?"

He nodded slipping unzipping the jacket and handing it to her, "You better bring me back this jacket in one piece, don't let that woman do anything awful to it okay?" Blondii grinned, "You got it Butchie!" She placed a little kiss on his jaw and she was off down the hill.

Arianna made her way absentmindedly up the stairs towards the famous (or infamous) Crater-Side Supply. Considering what she would need for equipment (or parts to make her ow), she would’ve blindly sidled past the man in front of her, had he not actually spoken to her. Ladies first, lass.” Ari blinked, quite startled at the sudden words, and gazed at him for a moment. Close cropped hair, dark piercing eyes...polite demeanor. And someone she’d not so much as set eyes on before. Though Ari didn’t live in Megaton, she was a familiar face to most in the town; she stopped by often enough, recognized a lot of the faces even if she didn’t know anyone. Adjusting the Plasma Rifle slung over her back, she nodded to the person in front of her. “Thanks, I appreciate that,” she said in her soft spoken voice. Ducking into the general store, squinted, having to let her eyes adjust to the stark dimness compared to the bright sunny day outside. As her eyes finally began adjusting to the light--or lack thereof--she recognized the merc who’d been guarding the place for all the years she’d been familiar with the place. She didn’t know him by name, never cared to ask. But he nodded to her as she entered, and she gave him a slight smile in return.

And then there was Moira. Decked out in her usual blue overalls, grease smudged her face and was streaked through her hair. There was a husk of...something next to the counter in her shop, what looked to be some sort of vehicle. Ari tilted her head to the side, slightly, and looked up at Moira Brown, who smiled brightly. “Oh, Ari! It’s so GOOD to see you! I was wondering when you’d be back!” As usual Moira was positively beaming. She couldn’t help but smile though, the woman’s pleasing mood was always so damn contagious. It was one reason that Ari liked her so damn much. Nothing ever seemed to bring her down. Ever. Ari pointed to what was undoubtedly some insane project of Moira’s. “Okay, I’ll bite. What the hell is it?” she asked flatly. Moira beamed, clapping her hands together excitedly. “Oh, this? Well it’s my latest project of course! You see, it’s so dangerous in the wastelands, always having to WALK everywhere, and who wants to do that, right? Well a trader recently brought in a junked 4 wheeler! I’m trying to put it back together and get an idea of how much work it’d take. If it’s not so bad, maybe I can find more of these, and start fixing em up and selling them! Maybe even add a few guns or something like that!! Neat, huh?!”

Ari laughed, shaking her head and gently placed a hand on Moira’s shoulder. “You know, that’s actually not a bad idea. Unlike those old cars, that thing has some hope. Good luck with that one, Moira.” Ari stepped away then, and began to gaze at the shelves lined with goods. Fission batteries, that was something she’d need for sure. Some sort of electronic parts too. Sensor modules, that sort of thing. Micro Fusion Cells and Small Energy Cells as well--the only ones she had were for her weapon. Those were just a few items she was hoping to find. But also, she was hoping to find extra lab equipment such as beakers, test tubes, microscopes. But Moira was a junk dealer, and people didn’t often come to her with that kind of stuff. Enough that she’d given Moira a great many of her caps, but it seemed this time there was nothing she could make use of. At least not for that.

Sighing, she made to step in front of a shelf when she noticed another girl perusing the items. She watched her a moment, noting how she looked pretty banged up. Scarred, and very badly. She found herself wondering how the woman got those scars. Whatever happened, Ari was sure that if she’d had proper medical treatment, maybe the scars wouldn’t have been so bad. She found herself wishing she’d taken to the wastelands a long time ago, instead of giving her time, loyalty, and dedication to a group hell-bent on destroying any human that wasn’t “pure.” Fucking Enclave. She said nothing to the woman, instead glancing at the shelf herself. Medical supplies were something else she could make use of. Components for her serum, and also chems to make the tranquilizer she used to capture live ferals...that was a must when you required actual ghouls for test subjects.

Lara continued through the store, and saw a bottle of a reddish liquid on a shelf. The bottle was glass, and only the length of Lara's thumb, it was quite thin as well. Her eyes continued as she held the bottle, and grinned. Someone had restored an old watercooler. The machine no longer cooled water, but rather filtered what water filled the top with water that fell through a pipe in the roof, most likely from a drain pipe. Rain often fell in some areas of the wasteland now, though it was fairly radioactive and was undrinkable without refining.

Lara's eyes fell on the other girl in the store. The woman had been looking at her, but turned to face a shelf. Lara adjusted her bag and approached the shelf herself. Medical supplies were common, though was rarely in good condition. The shelf had a variety of items; almost clean bandages, a small dosage bottle of morphine and some large vials with lids among other items and bits. She placed down the bottle of red liquid, and began to inspect the clean vials on the shelf. The exposed skin on her arm was noticeable pale, and the carved in marks vividly red against the paleness.

"Three Dog here. It's a fabulous day out in the DC Wasteland, but there's something much more interesting on the horizon. Rumours. Rumours, folks. Rumours of strange sightings. Enclave? Super mutants? Ghouls? What? Nobody really knows, but that's right. Something is brewing up in good old DC, but what?

The Wasteland on this particular day was unusually calm, but Rosalina didn't stop to do much hunting or gathering. Knowing she was within the perimetre of a settlement, she instead examined all of her surroundings. Danger. It had a funny way of always coming to her rather than her finding it herself. She could only suspect that somebody somewhere despised her enough to put the time and effort into trying to kill her. It wasn't exactly uncommon, after all, so as an extra precaution she proceeded to once again put her mask over her face. It managed to hide away most of the decaying flesh that nobody wanted to see. A punishment perhaps.

The scorched earth. Surely it was everybody's punishment, but Rosalina's in particular stood out. Well usually, but not today. She had much more important tasks to attend to, realizing just how at unease the news of "strange sightings" had put her. It was odd how news seemed to spread around the Wasteland like wildfire, yet somehow it did and naturally Rosalina too had received it despite her "hermit" status. That, of course, was only partially true. The woman knew where she had to head in order to obtain information about such mysterious circumstances, but it wasn't going to be easy. Those who knew of her condition would no doubt exile her. That was a minor issue still, however, that seemed to fade as soon as the woman reached the gates of the settlement.

Megaton. It was a common meeting place for people of the wasteland, keyword being people. Perhaps it had been that sort of mentality alone that had prompted Rosalina to lead her current lifestyle, but still this was something she was going to tackle. She had to. Whatever was lurking in the wasteland would certainly affect everybody. "Well here it goes." She uttered to herself as she entered the settlement.

Almost immediately Rosalina was greeted by rows upon rows of shops and residential shacks, much to her intrigue. Each one seemed to be layered over the other and she could only guess that whoever had constructed the little "city" was either adventurous, insane, or perhaps both. At least it seemed sturdy enough as others were walking along the platforms that lined the sides of the establishment. That only managed to hold her attention for a short time, however, upon realizing that right in what seemed to be the centre of the settlement was a perfectly intact bomb. Intact? Bomb? It was hard for Rosalina to digest, but certainly somebody believed it to be exactly that.

"Close your eyes, and feel Atom's glow..." a man standing beside the bomb spoke as Rosalina walked by the deadly weapon of wars past. He seemed to have an...almost desperate look in his eyes, but one that Rosalina overlooked quickly. He seemed like an odd fellow and was bound to get attention from somebody.

Lara's mind wandered as she scanned the items on the shelf. Her eyes took everything in, but her mind registered none of what her eyes did.The town of Megaton clouded her thoughts; it was a small town but it still felt vast, there were dozens of nooks and crannies in the city and she would eventually have to fill all of them. She knew no one would trust her face to face, due to her bizarre appearance, the wounds on her body; the deep carvings and bizarre runic symbols they were made up of, made her unapproachable to most sane people of the wasteland.

She stepped from the shelf and stood in front of one of the grimy, cracked windows of the store. She faced out and stared at the city of Megaton. It was a disgusting place, the city hadn't changed much in the past years and the buildings had barely been repaired or extended. traders disliked the town due to it's low wealth and the state of the food and water. The towns water was often radiated by the warhead in the center of the town, and the cultists that loved the bomb put many people off. How could people love something so dangerous, and want other people to as well? Lara grinned behind her mask, she knew fairly well how and why people thought like that, she caused many people to. Her drugs were perfected through trial and error, and many silly and desperate people were her guinea pigs. No one was allowed in the vault after testing, she hated the stench that corpses lingered in the air, and it was worsened by her drugs eating at the flesh.

Lara watched the townsfolk and thought to herself as she stood there, 'You're all perfect, disgustingly beautiful little test subjects. You'll be fantastic.' Lara felt her eyes warm slightly, and knew they had become darker. She grinned, the skin around her lips splitting. She was ready for the town, even if it wasn't ready for her.

If there was one thing the hunter missed from his years in the Commonwealth, it was common decency. The vast majority of those he had met since heading south didn't have an ounce of politeness in their bodies and it annoyed him. Still, he was stuck in his ways and made a habit of treating strangers with respect; this was the first time that an American had reciprocated the gesture. If nothing else, it reassured him that there were a few decent folk hereabouts. He gave the girl a friendly smile as she passed, checking out the weapon strapped to her back; some form of energy rifle he assumed, though he had no knowledge of such esoteric equipment. Standard ammunition was easy to find in the Commonwealth, but weaponised energy packs were a rarity, the weapons they powered even rarer. He would have liked to take a good look at it, perhaps try the rifle out, but the hunter knew not to overstep his bounds. Besides, he might find a similar specimen on his prey eventually.

He followed the girl in, giving Moira a wide berth as she flounced over to greet her customers. Instead he turned to the guard, giving him a simple nod. He preferred dealing with the taciturn mercenary, even though he technically had nothing to do with the running of the store. 'Just need to tighten a bolt and flog some salvage. Any chance I can avoid the landlady today?' The merc gave him a knowing smile in return, beckoning the hunter over to a nearby workbench. As he worked on the scrapbow, he gave the hunter a sidelong look. 'So Welsh... Where'd you get that loot? Not like you to hunt people.' The hunter, Welsh, shrugged apathetically; he would rather not give away his hard-earned information for free but it wasn't as though this guy would leave his cushy guard job for field work. '... Just a couple of bandits to the south. Halfway through hunting them for the Mayor's bounty; should be enough to tide me over until a caravan comes to take me home.' The two of them chatted back and forth for a while, discussing the local food, the shitty water system and bitching about Moira's eccentricity. Welsh didn't have many friends, but this guy might have counted if he ever gave his name...

From the corner of his eye, Welsh noted another girl in the shop. Well, he thought flatly. I use the term girl loosely... Her appearance was nothing short of nightmarish; swirling, tattoo-like scars, ragged hair and a gask mask... Welsh wasn't a man easily rattled, but the strange woman sent all sorts of alarm bells ringing in his head... Another one to avoid then. That girl's a problem for someone, he thought grimly. Fingers crossed it isn't me. He shelved that thought, hoping he wouldn't need it again and turned his attention to the other young woman. Nothing special there, aside from her intellectual looks; whatever she was after, she probably wouldn't find it here. Moira was well known as the best fence in Megaton; not because she was dirty, but because the woman was so damn innocent. You could give her any old crap and chances are she'd buy; not a business that collected high-value kit. He thanked the merc, giving him the old pistol in exchange for his maintenance work and ducked out of the shop.

Aside from perhaps repeating his raider hunt under cover of darkness, Welsh was out of ideas for distraction. He had enough caps to last him a few days, long enough for his employer, Canterbury Caravans, to send another caravan through the town... It might be ironic for a hunter to feel bored, considering the patience the job required, but Welsh simply didn't have anything to do. He sighed and took a seat under the walkway railings, dangling his feet over the side. The hunter pulled a small leather pack from one pocket, withdrawing a pipe and filling it. As Welsh struck a match and lit his tobacco, his gaze drifted down into the central courtyard of the town and the cultists therein. He kept his thoughts on their insanity silent, instead surveying the other inhabitants. One caught his eye as he slowly blew a smoke ring; a woman, possibly a ghoul, giving those around the bomb the same look he had. Ghouls weren't to be trusted, the same as all mutants, but perhaps a few were still human in mind, if not body. Welsh chuckled derisively. Now there's a fantasy I could get behind.

Lara grew tired of the store, and left. It's going to get dark soon and she hated the nights of the Wasteland, so she thought about renting a room. It would be good, sleeping there without paying would give her a criminal status, which she'd prefer to avoid. She could go the Saloon, a drink would be good as well. She readjusted her bag on her shoulder and made her way to Moriarty's Saloon. As she made her way there she eyed two newcomers; a female, possibly ghoul and a man who was ragged, but in a well traveled way.

She pushed the door of the Saloon open and stepped into the dank, warm air of the Saloon. The metal walls trapped the heat of the Wasteland's sun, making the Saloon uncomfortably sticky. 'Disgusting little place, too damn warm' Lara thought to herself. There was no one behind the counter, so she left a handful of bottlecaps on the table and made her way upstairs. There were 3 bedrooms that seemed empty, so she chose one with a large desk but smaller bed. The room was dirty, with a layer of grime covering even the pillow on the bed.

Lara began to organise her vials; placing them neatly on the desk and placing a large notebook on the table beside them. She had 3 new vials that needed testing, but she doubted these people would do it for free. Maybe... paid testing. Would that work? She'd have to go about it subtlety, though her appearance wouldn't help her cause.

Butch followed Blondii at a slower pace letting her get quite ahead of him, Megaton wasn't that big of a town she really couldn't get in that much trouble. His gaze slipped over the city and across the jagged wasteland to the cliffs overlooking the area. There tucked away and hidden was the place he used to call home. Vault 101. He took a deep breath as pangs of longing and regret tightened in his chest. Home. He missed it. The dark space the winding halls. The ceiling, damn he missed the ceiling. This sky, the wide open spaces gave him the jitters all the time.

He gave a last longing look before tugging the zipper of his 101 jumpsuit all the way and hunched his shoulders to the openness. He sure missed his jacket right about now. Speaking of which he couldn't help but smile as he noticed the small signs of Blondii's passing. Micky the water beggar was nursing a fresh bottle of purified water, the sniper guard had a huge grin on his face and even the old tin bucket of a robot seemed a bit more chipper. The quirk of a smile stayed with him as he sauntered down to the Brass Lantern. Sidling onto a stool at the bar outside he placed a few caps on the counter knowing Jenny Stahl would get him what he wanted, which was a nice strong scotch.

Meanwhile Blondii was on her way up the catwalks humming a little tune, when she noticed the dark haired man settled along the edge of the walkway. Well more she noticed the weapon slung across his back, it was unique and not one she'd ever seen before. This peaked her curiosity instantly, barely containing her excitement she walked up to him. "This seat taken?" She asked, a gentle smile accompanying her question.

Arianna was disappointed. The kind of things she needed, the technical things, they just weren’t here. She’d found stuff at Moira’s before, but not today. No, today would be her loss this time, the materials that would help get her lab started just weren’t present. There were a small number of microfusion cells and small energy cells, but not enough to help power a force-field system--and that was a must if she was going to be housing feral ghouls. As she looked the shelves up and down, she noticed that the man who’d opened the door for her was leaving. A crossbow of some sort, she saw, was slung over his back. Interesting she thought to herself. Not often you see that kind of weapon around here. Which, of course, she found rather odd because it wouldn’t be much trouble to make a crossbow. Or a regular bow, really. But then, with the availability of guns, most didn’t want to bother with it. He seemed nice enough, she decided. But the girl with the gas-mask, on the other hand….

She was something else. The scars lining the part of her face that she could see, along her arms, the...air about her. The fact she was wearing a gas mask in the first place...the woman made Ari feel very uncomfortable. She’d almost rather see an Enclave assassin walk into the store, looking for her. Shuddering as the woman left the store, Ari readjusted the Plasma rifle once more--the damn strap kept creeping closer and closer to the edge of her shoulder. Fucking thing, she thought bitterly, and immediately regretted it. It was about all she had of her sister now, besides the ribbon and dogtags. She turned to face Moira who was busy sweeping the area around the counter. ”Didn’t have what I was looking for this time. I’m going to head out, take care of yourself okay? And good luck with that project!”

”Sorry you didn’t find what you were looking for! You take care of yourself too, dear, and maybe next time you’re passing through I’ll have something to interest you.” Moira exclaimed with her usual ecstatic fervor. A smile once more crossed Ari’s lips, and she gave Moira, the closest thing she had to a friend, a quick hug before heading out the door. As the bright sun (though now just beginning to set) beamed her eyes, she squinted--and noticed the same man from before staring over the railing down at the Children of the Atom, preaching their chilling, dangerous words. Ari seriously wondered if one day she’d see a rising mushroom cloud on the horizon, when the Children decided to finally see Atom’s Glow for themselves.

Shaking her head to clear those thoughts, she then noticed the other girl, a blonde haired girl with dreadlocks who looked...well, pretty damn tough, asking if this “seat” was taken. Another new face too. What is it with new people in town today, she wondered to herself. She noticed the girl carrying a leather jacket...but something was slightly different about it. For one, it had two sleeves instead of one, which was the common wasteland fashion. For two, there was a giant serpent on the back. It was definitely not your average leather jacket. Ari might’ve just walked on by towards Moriarty’s Saloon then, but she noticed the girl with the gas-mask treading slowly up the stairs towards the place. So instead, she walked over to the man who’d been so nice to her, as to open the door for her--a rarity in the wastelands.

”Hey,” Ari said softly, brushing a strand of her own golden hair from her bright blue eyes, ”I’d be careful if I were you. Some of these rails can be loose--and the last thing you want is to end up close to THAT crowd,” Ari indicated the Children of the Atom far below, shaking her head. ”Presuming you survived the fall, anyway. Names Arianna, by the way. Thanks for earlier...not often you see someone with manners these days.”

Lara busied herself as she measured a small amount of a green serum and filled a number of bottles with it, and slowly filled each bottle with almost clear water. The water was green before fading back to clear after a few seconds, and Lara grinned behind the mask. These people couldn't, and never did resist water.
She left her room and began to leave the bottles in the other empty rooms, and one of the bathrooms. Perfect, the test drugs were out and now all she had to do was wait. She left her bag in her room, closed the door and walked down to the bar.

The new faces all seemed to have gathered here, Lara rolled her eyes and sat in a booth seat towards the back and watched the people. Maybe one of them would be a test subject... A glass of some kind of booze was placed down in front of her, and she nodded at the person. She unclicked the mouth guard of the mask and placed it beside the glass, the liquid vibrating from the movement. She hadn't had booze in some time, and was quite pleased to have some in front of her. She began to take small sips, savoring the harsh bitter flavour of the drink, as she watched the crowd.

These quiet moments were rare in the wastelands and as much as he considered himself a man of action, Welsh cherished them. It gave him a chance to indulge in one of his favourite pastimes; people watching. It was surprising what one could learn through simple observation; for example, he learnt that the bar below him served whisky for below market price and that the children of Megaton did actually have responsibilities of their own... One boy was tightening bolts on the town sewage system, putting his whole body behind a wrench the size of his arm. The scene drew a smile to Welsh's face and he cheered the lad on in his head. A voice from behind took him by surprise and he turned to see a petite young blonde woman, a high spec rifle slung across her back. His eyes narrowed for a moment; people didn't normally strike up a conversation without an ulterior motive. For once though, he was willing to let his suspicions go; perhaps it was the tedium getting to him.

'... Help yourself. Free country, right?' He studied her carefully, taking note of her kit and armament, the way she carried herself. Welsh could tell she was another clever girl and a tough one too; you'd have to be to walk around with such a valuable weapon on display. After a few moment's silence, he decided to test the waters. '... So what's your story? Parents ex-militia?' Before she could answer, another voice cut in, this time the egghead girl from Moira's place. Christ, he thought flatly. It don't rain, it pours... Welsh gave a sage nod in reply to Arianna's warning, again surprised by her courtesy. 'I'm Welsh, Arthur Welsh. Pleased to make your acquaintance and all that.' While he shared her sentiments and suspected that the average American was simply less polite than a Canadian, he wasn't keen on revealing his status as a citizen of the Commonwealth; folk in these parts often treated northerners with suspicion and sometimes outright aggression. Best to keep that tidbit to himself. He stood, having a good stretch and dumping his remaining tobacco in the process. He took his time stretching, unsure of how to carry on with either conversation; talking wasn't much Welsh's thing at the best of times.

"I'm Welsh, Arthur Welsh. Pleased to make your acquaintance and all that." Ari flashed him a smile. She was about to say something else, when a brisk wind began to pick up, and she slammed her mouth shut, turning to gaze towards the Megaton gates. Her eyebrows furrowed in a deep frown, and she rested her hands on her hips. "Getting mighty windy," she commented. Then, of course, it got even more windy, so much so that her golden curls began to billow in the wind.

And then the alarms pierced the afternoon like a barrage of bullets. It was the old air-raid sirens that once warned of the falling nuclear warheads; now they warned of invasion or sandstorms. And given the breeze, Ari could guess which it was. She would be proven correct moments later, when she heard rocks slam into the walls--and the dismal red color of a thick sand-cloud, monstrous in size, began to seep over the walls by the gates, and heading right towards them. It was a nasty sandstorm, this one. Ari stared, almost entranced, mouth gaping open. The storm was easily big enough to engulf all of Megaton and then some.

"Oh dear, Christ!" Ari exclaimed, grasping the arm of Arthur Welsh. "Don't know how much you know about things in the DC area, hell you might be from here for all I know, but I doubt it. But we need to get the hell inside, and quick! These sandstorms have been known to strip the paint from those old junker cars you see lying around. Just imagine what that would do to your skin! Moriarty's, we can take shelter there and have a drink too. Come on!" Ari then turned to face the woman who'd approached Welsh first. Still clutching Welsh's arm in her right hand, she waved for the woman to follow. "You too, come on!" Arianna exclaimed. She then began pulling Welsh towards the saloon, hoping he didn't resist or ask too many questions. Time was something you didn't have a lot of if you wanted to get inside before a storm of this magnitude.

Lara watched out through the windows, as the wind began to batter the glass. She watched as the group of strangers, who had arrived on the same day as her, began to make their way to the saloon. 'Getting bad out there, would be much safer at home..' She thought to herself. She moved her gaze to her arms, and ran a finger over the marks on one arm. She was here for a reason, she had to remember that. If they were weakened, and if the town was weakened, it may prove to help her.

Lara hated the sounds of the sirens. They were loud and disruptive, and gave her a headache if they were particularly loud ones. The noise carried on, and on, until many of the townsfolk had made their way inside. The sounds lessened somewhat, but the noise was still there, pounding at her head. Lara closed her eyes and clenched her fist, hoping the sound would stop. A new sound came, the sound of breaking glass. The glass in her hand had shattered from her clenching her hand; pieces of glass were suck in the skin of her hand, and the dirty booze that had been in it formed a puddle around her hand.

Blondii winced as the wind picked up and the sirens shrieked around her, a storm and a bad one at that. She barely heard the woman who had introduced herself as Arianna yelling at her to follow them to Moriarty's as she practically dragged the man with her. Blondii sighed, she hated moriarty but she hadn't seen Gob in a while and it'd be nice to see a friendly face. She resigned herself to follow the two when the heavy jacket in her arms reminded her of her companion. She whirled around grabbing hold of the railing and looking down to see if she could see him but nothing could be seen in the whirlwind of dust and grime. "Butch!" She screamed over the howling wind hoping somehow he would hear her, "Moriarty's!" He would know what it meant. She turned and followed the other two reluctantly.

Butch was at the bottom of his drink and about to order another when the wind started howling overhead. "Great!" he mumbled. "Just what we needed." Then the sirens started blaring. "Butch come on, that means we have to get inside." Jenny Stahl grabbed a hold of his arm tugging him toward the Brass Lantern. Son of a bitch. I don't want to be trapped here with theses people. Can this day get even worse. Of course then he heard Blondii's voice over the ruckus 'Butch and Moriarty's' was all he got and that was enough for him. He hated that slime ball Moriarty from the very first moment he'd met the man and there was no way he was going to let him anywhere near Blondii. He ripped his arm away from Jenny, "Sorry gotta find Blondii." He ducked into the rising storm and tried to make his way up to the Saloon.