Steve Cooper- Salem

"Good luck, I'll head to the dinner and get us some drinks along with finding out if anyone else has arrived in town yet..."

Leaving Johnny Steve made his way to the dinner. Along with Barney the diner’s owner Ace makarov? Makovich? Or whatever is was Mako was the only other person in town. He had seemlying arrived a few weeks ago and spent his time cleaning the dinner... he’d actually done an pretty good job.

Approaching the cleaned up Dinner Ace was nowhere to see; no doubt he’d gone on an little hunting trip or something which would hopefully mean better food tonight. With the dinner closed however Steve looked around for new arrivals and noticed a young lady sitting on a bench cleaning some model of scoped hunting rifle.

Lighting up a cigarette Steve walked to towards the young lady.

Approaching the younger woman she oddly enough looked like a girl version of Johnny being very small, pale and boney although judging by the various items strapped to her long coat she was some sort of "skilled" wastelander instead of chemist.

“Hi...err...Welcome to Salem I’m Steve cooper, good to see that more people are arriving” Steve stated as he held his hand out to shake.

Looks like the sort who’d take drugs

“Me and my business partner John Kaye are setting up a drug store and brothel in town... if you ever need some chemical help or... som er-“Steve somewhat awkwardly tried to pitch to the young lady but was distracted by gun fire...

Plasma bolt from the sound of it

Quickly Drawing his 50.cal Desert Eagle Pistol Steve turned around to direction of the gunfire only see an female Merc in some sort of confrontation with an Green skin super mutant but what was perhaps more strange was that the mutant was hold an white flag.

Surely it can’t be? Must be a trap.

Compared to the orange super Mutants in DC these green super mutants where somewhat smarter with them seemlying creating their own guns & weapons and even bloody computers and fucking turrets(With the help of human slaves) in some cases. Although the mutant was seemlying friendly and not beating that Merc to death right now , Steve was high suspicious of what it was planning to do..

“Stay here... I’m gonna check this out.”

With his pistol pointed non-directly at the mutant freaks head Steve slowly approached, cautious of the green mutant. During this time Barney also made his way over and examined to the woman merc that this super mutant “rook” as he was called was apparently an "friend" one and also unbelievable as it sounded was looking to settle down
there was stories about that friendly mutant in DC... could be same but why take the risk?

"Reasonable folk use their words."

“They also don’t let hostile monsters roam freely around town...” Steve muttered to himself, approaching and lowering his pistol as he continued to stare at the mutant.
What’s your plan...

"Now, welcome to Salem. I'm Barney Rook of the volunteer militia, and that there is...er, Rook. No relation." He looked over at the super mutant. "No offense."

“And I’m Steve cooper.” Steve added on

"Motherfucking insane," the woman breathed. She readjusted her bag once more. "I'm Frieda. Been travelling for a spell looking for work, if you think you could use another member of your...militia, was it?" She glanced between the mutant and Barney as she awaited the response.

"Depends. We don't let just anyone join up."

“It’s not like you’re overburdened with volunteers now Barney.” Steve chuckled taking a puff on his smoke as he did.

"Did you not just say you were a volunteer militia --"

"We still have a screenin' process. Gotta have some standards. Folk are gonna depend on you to defend life and limb, you gotta be competent."

“It’s pretty clear hot stuff has served before.” Steve stated as he turned to Frieda “Along with the impressive figure Just look at how she stands, holds that plasma pistol, a plasma pistol....”

“E” Now where have I seen that before?

“What outfit where you with? I don’t see any stupid tattoo so it’s not the gunners Brotherhood perhaps? The operators? Or maybe perhaps the Talon company?”

We did have an few lady soldiers

Ace Makovich – Returning To Salem

On his way back to town, Ace had come across another doe. Luckily he was sober enough and managed to take it down in a few shots with no damage to himself. He snagged up a couple molerats as well, and was dragging the carcasses on the tarp he had brought along. He had been gone for about a day, but now he should be stocked up for a while. He had plenty of mirelurk meat, but he would need to diversify his menu, can’t serve same thing every day.

He stopped for a bit to take a break. He needed to stretch and gain some feeling back to his shoulders. He pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a long drag from it. It’s times like this he wished things like cars worked. You’d think that by now there’d be vehicles or some mode of transportation.

He picked up the rope he had tied around tarp, and started pulling on the tarp. As he walked by the Witchcraft Museum, he heard a low growl sound come from within. He knew better than to check it out, that place was dangerous. He hear gun shots from town, seemed as if something was going down. I’m sure Barney has it handled, if it was something serious the turrets would be going off.

As he rounded the corner to the street leading to his diner, he saw Barney standing there with a woman and what looked like a super mutant. He rubbed his eyes in disbelief and shook his head. I must be suffering from heat exhaustion.

He grabbed his key from pocket, and unlocked the door. He stepped into the dinner and once again shut the door locking it. He opened the cellar door and carried his kill with him. He had field dressed the kills, so they should last for a while. He was just glad he had working freezers to store the meat in. It had taken him a while to fix them, but it was worth it.

Lucky for him the diner had a spacious cellar. He used half for storage and the other half as his modest living space. He went over the bathroom and took a cold shower, still couldn’t get water heater to work. He washed the blood off himself, some of it from animals, a lot of it his own. His chest and back were badly bruised but doesn’t seem like he broke anything, he would need to get checked out by a doctor. Perhaps Doc Weathers may visit soon, but even then he was dubious of the good ‘docs’ skills.

He got dressed and headed upstairs. He saw Barney leaning against the wall. “Slacking off Barney? If you got time to lean, you have time to patrol.” Ace said as he opened the door to the diner.

“Yeah, well I’ll be sure to be on patrol when someone lights up your diner due to your smart ass remarks.” Barney replied as he lit a cigarette. “While you were on your little vacation, some new folk arrived to town. Got us some women, a doctor, some sketchy looking fellas, and even a greenskin.”

“That blow from the radstag must have gotten to me, I thought I heard you say greenskin,” ace said as he tried to clear his ears.

“Nope, got us a genuine, bona fide, friendly mutie. Just like that Vault dweller did. People from all around gonna come to see that fella. So I recommend yo carry at all times, cause not all of them will be friendly.” Barney said as he took a drag from his cig.

“ Yeah, well if you aren’t armed at all times then you are an idiot. Well if I hear you correctly, you said we have a new medic, where is he? I need a check up,” Ace said as he locked the door of the diner.

Barney smirked, “I said we have a new doctor not a vet. But he may make an exception, he on the second floor of the church.”

Ace flipped him the finger as he walked towards the church, “Your mother.”

Ace walked to the church and saw the white coat of a doctor on the second floor. As he walked up the stairs he started talking to the doctor, “Hey doc need a checkup got slammed by a radstag into a tree, and head was bleeding pretty bad before… Sorry, didn’t see you were with someone.”

Inquisitor Carver - Salem

"The Children of Atom?", Mary said. "I've heard tell of them. The tenets of thier Faith are certainly novel, to say the least. They don't seem to be very friendly, haven't heard a kind word about them since I got to the Commonwealth. They seem to keep to themselves, though....if you steer clear of the places they like they don't go out of their way to vex you none."

It's true then, the local faithful have been on bad terms with the locals. At the same time, it was a relief, however, to hear that they were at least keeping to themselves, rather than raiding or harassing wastelanders.

In response for his query for directions, the woman pointed down the road south, towards a large brick structure. "they don't come in to town that I've seen, as far as gettin' past them jes' follow the road there. The road forks just outside of town, stay right or you'll walk right into them. Follow the road 'til you get to the old Witchcraft Museum there....it's the big brick building down there. Speaking of that, it's safe enough to walk by, but it's not the safest place for prospectin', even in daylight, if you get my drift. The road branches just beyond that, keep going South and you'll get to the Cannery. East of the road is pretty much the Children's...west of it isn't any better, though....Raiders and Gunners, I hear."

Then east is where I must go, Carver decided. "Thank you for the directions. Have a pleasant day, ma'am," he said, nodding to the woman before heading back town to the boat, where Giraud was busy tying the boat to the pier.

"I've gotten what I need, Giraud," the Inquisitor said, helping the older man off the boat. "This is where we part ways."

"Well, then, have fun parenting the children," Giraud laughed. "If you need me, I'll be here, patching ol' Lisette up. Seems she sprung another leak. Can't find me here, try whatever passes for a bar in this town."

With that, there was no more reason to stay in town. Carver made his way down the path out of town that Mary had pointed out, bag in tow, eventually coming to the large brick building outside of Salem. It looks as good as any place to change, he thought to himself as he sat down, out of sight of the town and opened his bag.

The bag contained several items- his cowl and armor, a Radium Rifle and a few magazines of.45 ammunition, a single Nuka-Grenade, some survival tools, a bottle of irradiated water from Atom's spring, and a few scraps of cooked Mirelurk meat. He could hear the sound of a weapon firing and a commotion, but it no longer concerned him what went on in the town. Ian strapped his armor pieces to the wetsuit, then locked a magazine into his rifle, and finally fitted the cowl over his head. As he looked through the eyepieces of the mask, he steeled himself for whatever may lie ahead. Ian was gone, and in his place was Inquisitor Carver.

The Inquisitor rose to his feet, clutched his weapon, and headed south along the road. Despite Mary's assurances that this stretch of road was safe, he kept his eyes open, scanning his surroundings for possible danger. Fortunately, no threats presented themselves, and Carver successfully made his way to the fork in the road without incident.

To the east, where he was warned the Children of Atom resided, he could see a lighthouse in the distance. Yes, that seems the sort of place that Atom's faithful would reside, he reasoned as he looked at the picturesque structure. Without hesitation he turned east, towards where the Children of Atom resided. Their erroneous course would be corrected, one way or another. He only hoped that it would not require spilling the blood of his brothers and sisters.

FRIEDA RICHTER - Salem town square

“It’s pretty clear hot stuff has served before," the stranger stated as he turned to Frieda “Along with the impressive figure Just look at how she stands, holds that plasma pistol, a plasma pistol....”

Frieda looked between the taller man with the moustache, back to Rook. Steve, she thought it was? She narrowed her brow but did not immediately reply.

“What outfit where you with? I don’t see any stupid tattoo so it’s not the gunners Brotherhood perhaps? The operators? Or maybe perhaps the Talon company?”

Frieda blinked. As if this wasteland tribal deserved to be endowed with the knowledge he was in the presence of an officer of the true American government, especially when he had the nerve to suggest she was, perhaps, Brotherhood.

I made my choices, but my roots remain. Still, I have to try and dislodge a lot of that...thinking. Frieda went with the safe response. "I failed to catch how my pedigree was any of your business. Ever consider I may in fact be, naturally gifted?" She nodded at his lit cigarette, trying not to show her desperate craving too obviously. "Spare a smoke?"

So many people. Everyone talking, everyone being a bit of jerks towards him. Well, except the old man. He was nice. He was willing to give him a shot. Rook listened to the people talking, asking about clothing and working out. He didn't care about that. He had work to do. He had seen himself away from the others, oddly silent for one so large, and found himself a patch of dirt. Sitting down, he would gather some of the refuse from around him, looking at it and then the buildings around him. Each bit of junk was arranged in a way that would show a building. He traced what was (very roughly) the outline of the coast. There was the fishing shack he had, the road, the coast line, all the buildings in the center of town, and the docks.

“Rook sees many problems. No wall. No way to make wall from keeping out Mirelurks. Unless willing to do a lot of work. Hmmm...” Rook drew a few lines, looking over it and then standing up. “Yes. That would do. Need many things. Rook needs many things.”

Unless bothered, he would spend nearly an hour wandering the coast line of the town, looping back to his shack each time before finally walking up the road to the town proper. Now he had several feet of old steel cable, some various odds and ends he had grabbed up from the shore in his bag, that diamond plate chest guard, and a plan. While he still carried his white flag, he had a different expression on his face. He would plant the flag next to himself and look at the ruined tractor trailer. Walking around it, he would give it a quick over, seeing how poor shape it was in. In truth, it didn't need to be perfect, it needed to work.

He had been to a town not too many days away from here years ago, and his muscles had been put to the test. He had helped to build various fortifications for the town. At first he was alone in doing so, but it never too long for others to join him. There were old shipping containers that had washed up on the shore. While they were not the best, it didn't matter. They could be used for a number of things. He would have to haul those up on his own.

Wrapping the rope several times around the end of the trailer, where the hitch would sit, he would loop this around his chest as well. With that set, he would turn towards his goal. With everything set, he shifted, and made to take a step. Everything was locked up, he could feel the bindings tighten upon his chest. Rook continued to strain against it.

“Rook not be beaten by metal cart!” He yelled, his legs finally starting to move and he was growling as he started to drag the trailer. He was not going far with it, but he knew it was going to take a lot of effort. With metal screeching as he walked, the trailer was pulled behind him. He was working on turning it once it was going. He knew he wouldn't be able to make it turn on a cap, but he didn't need to go far. Between the building full of robots and skeletons, and the shore, the fork was his goal. He moved it back and forth, his muscles taxed to their limit as he got it settled finally.

Using the bits of metal he had gathered from the beach, he put stakes in front of, and behind, the sixteen tires, locking it in place. Despite breathing heavily for a few moments, he looked pleased with this.

“Rook make foundation for wall. Flip on side, bring containers up from water, use those behind it. Maybe find working motors to make working gates! Maybe Rook swim to boats and see if those motors work! Rook hates swimming though...” He turned back to town, picked up his flag, and went towards the diner... Only to discover it was still closed. “Ahhh... Meat maker man is not here... Back to work for now.”

He walked back down the hill, setting down his flag and sighing some. He would move the sand bags next, arranging them in a way to make it so they could keep someone in town protected from bullets. The cars would be rough, but these were next. Rocking the rusted poles back and forth, it didn't take long for them to snap, and would set those by the flat bed. He repeated the process of moving the cars next, positioning them on either side of the road, making the makeshift cover one could use if attacked.

Lorelei Jones - Town Square

“Hi...err...Welcome to Salem I’m Steve cooper, good to see that more people are arriving” Steve stated as he held his hand out to shake. “Me and my business partner John Kaye are setting up a drug store and brothel in town... if you ever need some chemical help or... som er-“Steve somewhat awkwardly tried to pitch to Lorelei but was distracted by gun fire...

Lorelei seemingly paid no attention to the conflict in the square, perhaps having been numb to the prospects of gunfire. She pursed her lips and narrowed her brow. Her raspy voice was quiet and direct. “Chemical help?” She smirked. “…The town hasn’t even been fully-built and you’re already trying to peddle drugs?” Lorelei let loose a weak chuckle, masqueraded by her breaths, and then met eyes with Steve. The eye contact didn’t last long.

“Stay here... I’m gonna check this out.”

Lorelei watched Salem's token Dr. Feelgood stroll away, but she did not linger on it. She watched the conflict with intrigue, especially the large green man who referred to himself as ‘Rook’. She waited around, even after the crowd dispersed and mutant left, quietly hoping that someone would come to say hello without the ‘hello’ being a loaded statement, packed with a substance proposition. No dice. She stood up and started to wander the other portions of the town, leaving Steve and the others behind.

“Rook not be beaten by metal cart!”

It was the mutant, again. The aggravated holler came from the edge of town. Rook was up to something else. Perhaps if Lorelei had actually listened to what the folks in the square were squabbling about, she’d have known. She strolled in the direction of the reverberating yell.

After a few minutes, Lorelei found herself at the top of the hill, looking down upon an interesting scene – Rook was moving a set of sandbags, arranging them in a way to make it so they could keep someone in town protected from bullets. He repeated the process of moving the cars next, positioning them on either side of the road.

Lorelei waved down at him. She raised her thin, bony arms in the air, showing off her imaginary muscles. “How about you let me move those instead?” She had her usual shit-eating grin on her face, spurred by a refusal to show teeth but an inability to keep her lips from raising into a reluctant smile. She trekked down the hill, carefully ensuring that the slope did not get the best of her traction. She clumsily picked up speed on her way down, but managed to retain control.

After another few seconds of watching, Lorelei walked over to where Rook was working and folded her arms. “Lorelei Jones, at your service,” she said with simultaneous sincerity and satire. She knew she’d be of no help but she had to at least offer. She was being uncharacteristically friendly, but perhaps it was just the ‘third life’ debacle that spurred her to be more ostentatious and chatty. She outstretched her arm, as if to shake the mutant’s hand. She didn’t half-expect to get a handshake in return, but she offered anyway.

Mary Hawthorne - Her House

"Thank you for the directions", the man said. "Have a pleasant day, ma'am." He then nodded and walked back down the hill to the docks.

Mary turned back to her milking, but kept an eye out for the man. After a bit, he came back up from the docks and took the road out of town. She noticed he walked past the fork that led to the Crater, and continued towards the Museum. Her milking complete, the picked up the now full bucket and returned to the house, making sure the enclosure was securely shut behind her. Once in the kitchen, she began filling the bottles she had collected from in and around the house, orking them and putting them in the wheezing old refrigerator that Obediah had managed to get to run again. From the noise it made, who knows for how long the repairs would hold...yet another thing she needed to get done. She could operate most modern (Pre-War) appliances fine, but repairing them was something she had never been able to get a grasp on...much to her irritation. She filled all of her bottles, but still had about a quarter of the bucket still full of milk. Not one to waste good milk, she decided to go out and find more bottles. Pouring the milk into a smaller container that ould at least fit in the fridge, she dropped her .38, which she had since reloaded with real bullets, into a pucket of her dress, and an empty haversack and exited the house, locking the door behind her. Looking around, she decided to start around the diner. checking the mailbox, she found a Nuka-Cola bottle and a whisky bottle that were still intact. She placed them in her bag and moved on. In the alley behind the diner, she found a dumpster, and a few more Nuka-Cola bottles. She then noticed a pile of trash dumped on the ground behind the building to the left, and went to rummage through it, pausing when she found a robot in it.

"Hmm", Mary said as she dragged it out of the pile so she could take a closer look. Didn't seem to be anything wrong with it that she could tell...not that she was any kind of expert. After some searching, she found the cover for the power switch and flipped the switch a couple of times, with no result. Shrugging, she rummaged around in the pile some more, and found two more inoperative robots. One was missing two legs, which she eventually found, the third was intact but had a dent in it's round body, as if something had fallen on it. She also found several Nuka-Cola and Vim bottles, enough...in her estimation...to finish bottling the milk. As for the robots, while Mary had no idea how to fix them, somebody else might...and even as scrap they had to be worth something. She looked around, spotting a old wheelchair, with someone's bones still in it, sitting near the pile. Grabbing the wheelchair, she unceremoniously threw the bones onto the pile, then loaded the intact robot onto it. Once she found a position to make it stay, she wheeled her find triumphantly back to her house, dumping it for now in her living room. As she exited and locked the door behind her again, she heard what sounded like a energy weapon firing nearby. Turning to look, she saw a woman, threatening a enormous green man, who Mary presumed to be one of the "super mutants" she had heard of, he had to be eight or nine feet tall....with some sort of pistol. The green man held what looked like a white flag in one enormous hand. What suprised her though, is the green man seemed to be trying to appease her...instead of tearing her apart. Mary was not sure what to do, she was pretty sure her .38 wouldn't do much more than anger him. As she was considering going back inside to retreive her shotgun, Barney and another man ran around the corner and engaged in a animated conversation with the woman. Eventually, she put her pistol away. As it appeared that the mutant...if that is what it was...had some kind of understanding with Barney, she decided to just let things be and grabbed the wheel chair and headed back to the alley. Loading the robot whose legs had fallen off into the chair, she headed back home, dropped off the second robot then went back for the third, returning a few minutes later. Leaving the robots...and the wheelchair...in her living room for now, she went into the kitchen and washed the bottles she had found, then lit the stove, preparing to boil the bottles before using them.

Rook had gotten the second car in place when the first person had shown up. She was not what he expected. A thin woman, who probably had less meat on her than a bloatfly. Still, she was offering to help, showing off phantom might and a smile. If nothing else, she would make good company. He sat on the edge of the flatbed, drinking a thing of water. It was collected water from the rain, so it should be safe for her to drink.

He had long ago learned he could drink from places most humans would get sick from. When she arrived and offered her hand, Rook reached out, carefully wrapping his hand around her smaller hand. He gave a gentle, almost oddly careful shake of her hand. “Rook is pleased to meet you. Lorelel Jones is kind to help Rook out. Maybe she can see flaws in Rooks' plans better than he can.” He offered her the water and then went to work again.

Crouching down, he remade his little map, a bit better than the other one in town. “Rook is building defenses for town. Rook has been in the Wastelands for many years, has seen one thing in common with all successful settlements. Walls.” He sounded as if this was ancient wisdom being passed on. “Rook wants to build walls here, and towers, so we can see bad people before they arrive. Salem in good place, with many good things around. Old Man Barney said there is a militia here. They can man towers, Rook does not like to climb. Or swim. Swim is where bad things are.”

Looking at her, he was probably still close to most peoples height while crouched down. “Rook will still help bring up metal boxes from water though. Many good things are in water, and maybe can use it to make more things for Salem to be safe. Rook doesn't want to see Salem hurt. Too many people die because of the Wastelands. Rook not want people here to die either..."

Steve Cooper- Salem
#
Frieda blinked with this odd look on her face like she thought she was seemlying better than Steve or anyone for matter. "I failed to catch how my pedigree was any of your business. Ever consider I may in fact be, naturally gifted?"

you only say that when you worked with an group.

“Not anymore” Steve replied

She nodded at his lit cigarette, “Spare a smoke?"

Reaching in to his Leather Jacket pocket Steve took out a box of embassy cigarettes, opening the box he held it out for Frieda “Sure, you can have one.”

“Sure, If you tell me your “pedigree” as you called it.”

Sort of want to know what she’s hiding now...

Frieda refuses to tell

“Well then No smokes for you.” Steve teased as he shut the cigarette box. “And these are some high-class smokes from England...good luck finding someone else with them.” he added on as he put the smokes back in his jacket pocket.

“Well regardless of whatever mysterious group you seemlying worked for I was a combat engineer in the Talon Company, 3rd company for 17 years, worked my way up to Staff sergeant before those Tin-can dicks ruined everything.”

“But that was life time ago now...” Steve said as he took an puff on his cigarette “if you plasma pistol breaks or you want to upgrade it I should be able to fix it ... Brotherhood weren’t the only one to get some of those enclave toys.”

Crater House Church

Abraham watched the last drops of the mahogany colored liquid escape the IV bag into the tube in his arm. Then returned to his writing, the sermon was nearly finished but the words had become blurry and out of focus. Abraham reclined in the high-backed upholstered chair and closed his eyes. His mouth was dry and there were sharp pains in his joints. The side effects of Scouring, the process was painful physically, but it allowed a soul to embrace the Glow anew and be washed clean in Atom’s light. At least, that is what the faith taught. Abraham cracked his eyes and let the room slowly fade into a hazy focus, he had his doubts. Most in the Church did, though few expressed them, Abraham had never voiced them openly, though he could never pull it fully from his mind. He looked down at the unfinished sermon, the words were well chosen and would elicit fervor from his congregation, but felt hollow to him.

“Brother Abraham,” Abraham looked to the door of his shack, a gruff looking man with a shaved scalp and tattered green robes stood there holding a hot bowl.

“Brother Reed, come in, it is a pleasure to see you.” Reed smiled and stepped inside placing the bowl on the table next to the sermon.

“I have brought you some mirelurk and tato soup, Sister Ada said you were Scouring today.”

“I am”, Abraham picked up the bowl but instead of sipping from it gave it back to Reed. “I am also fasting, this is my second day, and I cannot be tempted.” Reed took the bowl and shot a glance down at the food then to Abraham.

“Scouring and fasting Brother? That is not a wise choice, your body will be heavily taxed.”

“I have done it before.” Abraham removed the IV from his arm and rubbed the injection site.

“This is not the Holy City Brother, none of us are doctors.” Abraham scowled at Reed.

“I have done it here, before you joined our congregation. I do not need to be chastised in what measures I take to express my faith.” Reed nodded and looked down.

“I did not mean to offend Brother, I only said what I thought.”

“I will inform you when I desire to hear your thoughts Brother.” Abraham stood from his chair and looked Reed in the eyes. “Go and get Sister Ada, tell her we are going to the Lighthouse.” Reed nodded and left the shack, once the door was shut Abraham stumbled and caught himself against the table and sat back into the chair closing his eyes. He was weak, and it wasn’t just the Scouring and the fasting. Abraham could feel his age in his bones but knew no remedy for it.

Lighthouse

Abraham greeted those Children waiting outside the Lighthouse with a nod and an embrace before moving inside. It was dark save for the light of a few lanterns and Abraham looked around the room, it was filthy and resembled nothing of the spartan shacks at the Crater House Church. Piles of empty food wrappers and cans, discarded bones littered the floor. A door on the far side of the room that was slightly ajar. Abraham pushed it open but found it blocked, he pushed harder and saw what was blocking the way. A pile of shoes stretching from the back corner, nearly a foot or two high and about four or five feet wide. All of them different sizes and colors and styles. Some bloody, some wet but all of them dirty. Abraham sighed and moved back pulling the first chair he could, and sitting down.
The exterior door opened and Sister Gretchen entered, she took a look around the room before taking a chair next to Abraham.

“Reed tells me fasting Abe.” Abraham nodded.

“He is correct.” Gretchen glanced away from Abraham and spun a lock of her dark hair around her finger.

“And Ada tells me you scoured again this morning.” Abraham looked at Gretchen as he shifted in his seat to face her.

“Are you going to recount to me all the details of my day?” Gretchen frowned.

“Abe,”

“It is Brother Abraham.” He corrected her.

“Oh for Atom’s sake Abe! I’ve known you since I was girl, so has Ada and Reed. We are worried for you.”

“I appreciate your concern but the only thing you should be worried about is that ever growing pile of discarded shoes.” Abraham motioned to the other room, Gretchen leaned back and glanced from Abraham to the room. Abraham gritted his teeth and leaned forward whispering harshly

“It has grown since last I came despite Brother Quaid’s assurance the robberies would end.” Abraham grabbed Gretchen by the face and pulled her forward. “You gave me your fucking word you’d talk some sense into him. I see you haven’t.” He let go of her and she stood up quickly and took a step back.

“I’ve tried but he won’t listen, it’s only gotten worse since they made a settlement out of them Salem ruins. Now Quaid lets anyone on the roads, even takes bribes from raiders and bandits to set up caravans and settlers.” Abraham stood

“Why are you telling me this?! Why now?” He glanced towards the door and moved to pull his pistol. Gretchen looked at him with wide eyes and shook her head.

“Because I want you to end it, you haven’t been here in weeks. What was I supposed to do? Confront him by myself?” Abraham glanced to the floor then back to Gretchen “He would have killed me Abe if I tried to come see you. I’ve been waiting for you to come.” Tears had started to form in Gretchen’s eyes, Abraham rubbed his face and crossed his arms.

“I apolo-“ He was cut off as the door opened and a tall man holding a gamma gun entered.

“Am I interrupting?” The man said with a grin, Abraham frowned and turned to face him.

“Not at all Brother Quaid.”

“Good.” Quaid smiled as he grabbed himself a chair, dragging it loudly across the floor before sitting in it. He laid his gamma gun heavily next to an ashtray upon a metal table to his right and grabbed a pack of cigarettes by the ashtray. Quaid fished around till he found one then pulled it out and lit it, taking a drag and exhaling before looking at Abraham.

“I see you still struggle with your vices Brother Quaid.” Quaid gave a wicked half smile.

“We are all sinners, are we not Brother?”

“Aye, we are.” Abraham nodded. “But those of us who are faithful members of the church, work in penance to rid ourselves of our vices.”

“We are long way from the Holy City Brother.” Quaid leaned forward, exhaling another cloud of smoke.

“And yet still Atom’s Glow reaches us here, his Glow and the hand of the Church.” Quaid leaned back, taking another drag and scrunching his brow. Now Abraham leaned forward.

“You have been sloppy Brother and the Church has found the foot prints you left behind,” Abraham motioned to the back room of shoes. “Your judgement has come Brother, and there is no raider clan for you to hide behind now. You may have escaped my judgement, but you will not escape Atom’s.”

Quaid sat there for a moment, holding Abraham’s gaze before looking at Gretchen, then back to Abraham. He took a drag before throwing the cigarette down to the ground. “I should have let you die when those Gunners shot you Abe.”

“Aye, you should’ve.” Abraham stood and moved to leave. Gretchen moved to follow but Quaid grabbed her arm and stopped her. Abraham turned.

“There wouldn’t be a trial here, we are far too remote.”

“As you said Brother, we are a long way from the Holy City.” Quaid smiled and let go of Gretchen and she and Abraham moved to leave the Lighthouse.

Inquisitor Carver - Kingsport Lighthouse

Step by step, Carver treaded the road towards the lighthouse where the he believed the Children of Atom may be residing. He made his way up the right fork in the road, which circled around and up the hill that the lighthouse was situated upon, and with it. As he came to the top of the slope, he beheld several figures ahead, wearing the ragged robes characteristic of the Children of Atom. This was the place.

One of the idle Children of Atom noticed the new arrival and cautiously approached Carver, Gamma Gun drawn. After examining the markings on the Inquisitor's armor, the man smiled and put his weapon away.

"Welcome to our humble congregation, Brother." the Child of Atom greeted Carver, throwing his arms out in welcome. "From which flock do you hail?"

"From Atom's holy island to the North, from High Confessor Tektus' congregation," Carver answered, briefly smiling underneath his mask as he holstered his rifle. "I am Inquisitor Carver, here on Tektus' authority. Might I come inside?"

"Of course, Inquisitor, follow me," the man replied, ushering Carver into the lighthouse. "So, brother, if I may ask, what brings one of your standing out here?"

"All in due time, brother," the Inquisitor replied, wishing to evade the subject for the time being. "Suffice to say, it is a sensitive matter that has drawn the attention of the High Confessor."

Carver was led to the lighthouse, where his escort opened the door "Brother Quaid, we have a guest from another congregation. An Inquisitor from the north."

The interior of the lighthouse was dimly lit, although the light shining from the open door betrayed a sight of sordid squalor. Empty food wrappers and animal bones littered the floor- from this, he could infer that this congregation did not appear wanting for food, and clearly had few standards of tidiness. There were three of the flock inside- two standing up and facing the door, and one sitting in a chair. The one in a chair, though shrouded in darkness, appeared to be a rough-looking fellow, not young nor elderly. Of the two standing, one was a dark-haired woman, the other was a familiar-looking black-haired bearded man, with streaks of gray in his hair.

Wait...he looks familiar. Is that Brother Abraham? The man was definitely older-looking in the years since they had met, but there was no mistaking him. He was about to greet Abraham but thought better of it; his duties must come first.

"I trust I'm not interrupting anything important," he stated, regaining his composure beneath his mask. "I am Inquisitor Carver, here on the authority of High Confessor Tektus. I must speak to those in charge of this congregation."

Lorelei Jones - Salem Outskirts

“Rook is pleased to meet you. Lorelei Jones is kind to help Rook out. Maybe she can see flaws in Rooks' plans better than he can.” He offered her the water and then went to work again.

Crouching down, he remade his little map, a bit better than the other one in town. “Rook is building defenses for town. Rook has been in the Wastelands for many years, has seen one thing in common with all successful settlements. Walls.” He sounded as if this was ancient wisdom being passed on. “Rook wants to build walls here, and towers, so we can see bad people before they arrive. Salem in good place, with many good things around. Old Man Barney said there is a militia here. They can man towers, Rook does not like to climb. Or swim. Swim is where bad things are.”

Looking at her, he was probably still close to most people’s height while crouched down. “Rook will still help bring up metal boxes from water though. Many good things are in water, and maybe can use it to make more things for Salem to be safe. Rook doesn't want to see Salem hurt. Too many people die because of the Wastelands. Rook not want people here to die either..."

Lorelei furrowed her brows as she looked down upon the water. Nevertheless, she sat down on a stray tire and took a sip from the bowl, watching Rook as he worked. She had an underlying urge to massage the handle of her revolver, watching a super mutant exist in front of her like that, but she kept her hands relaxed upon her lap. The world had made her quick to judge; quick to maneuver out of the way of trust. But perhaps Salem was her window to become something else. Only time would tell. The mutant seemed only to want to help, and to be kind, which was something she could not yet say about the others.

After a minute of watching Rook move objects around, she slowly nodded. “You have a good vision, but I think you have too high of expectations for this ‘people’s militia’. It’s a mixed bag, from what I’ve seen so far.” She sighed. “I’ve seen much of the country, though. It’s always like this. You’ve got a few folks who are trying to act like pillars of the community, and then you’ve got the ones who love to play god. And then people can’t tell who-from-who, and then you have yourself a mess.”

Lorelei sighed and ran her fingers through her dark brown hair, currently held up in a messy bun. She took another sip from the bowl of water. “I suppose I’m not righteous in criticizing them; I’ve never been the type to enlist to protect others…I’m more of a wanderer than someone who can be depended on.” She shrugged. “But they look like they need serious help, so perhaps I’ll help keep watch for them. You can’t go wrong with a night on a rooftop with a scope and a bottle of scotch.”

Finally, Lorelei stood up off the tire and considered Rook’s handiwork instead of the manual labor he was executing. She walked over to where he was working. “You’re right, the ‘wall’ is what will protect this place, but we will need more than that. We’re out on a peninsula. It would be easy for us to be trapped. We need a few working boats in case of evacuation, and we need outside patrols to keep an eye on the activity. But that will have to come later. Your ‘wall' is a good start.” She offered a light smile.

FRIEDA RICHTER -- Salem town square

In response to her question, the man reached into his Leather Jacket pocket and took out a box of embassy cigarettes, opening the box he held it out for Frieda “Sure, you can have one -- if you tell me your “pedigree” as you called it.”

Time froze still for a moment as she regarded an entire box of cigarettes, held so casually before her. She licked her lips and refused to become too distracted.

"How about," she drawled with a smirk, "you tell me what the word even means, and you toss a girl a smoke, and we call it even?"

“Well then No smokes for you.” Steve teased as he shut the cigarette box. “And these are some high-class smokes from England...good luck finding someone else with them.” he added on as he put the smokes back in his jacket pocket.

Frieda's brow twitched. Whatever. There's bound to be at least one pack of smokes in this place.

“Well regardless of whatever mysterious group you seemingly worked for I was a combat engineer in the Talon Company, 3rd company for 17 years, worked my way up to Staff sergeant before those Tin-can dicks ruined everything.”

Frieda tensed, and realized he might have been referring to the Brotherhood. She bit her tongue and nodded politely, though she wasn't sure what exactly he was referencing.

“But that was life time ago now...” Steve said as he took an puff on his cigarette “if your plasma pistol breaks or you want to upgrade it I should be able to fix it ... Brotherhood weren’t the only one to get some of those enclave toys.”

Frieda smiled and pointed to the scar in the dirt where she'd shot at Rook. "I have a feeling the Enclave wouldn't call them toys, and neither would --" She paused to look up, intending to call attention to the super mutant himself, but found he was gone.

Long gone, by the looks of it.

"Dammit!" she swore, whipping around, looking frantically for Rook. "Where did he go?" Frieda walked the length of the square to the other side and looked around. She rounded on Steve and jabbed an accusatory finger. "If not for your unnecessary babbling, that mutant wouldn't have just walked off like that!"

"You better hope he doesn't end up killing someone, or that blood's gonna be on your hands," she growled. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to find a fucking cigarette!"

Frieda stormed off, realizing most of her irritability stemmed from her cigarette craving. Her unit back home used to ridicule her for the habit she started once Brian had gone missing, saying things like "Two hundred years of perfect genetic grooming, wasted on you and that disgusting habit."

Easy for them to say. None of them lost their closest family, and best friend.

She found herself coming back towards the diner. Didn't they tend to be like general shops, most of the time? Or, they would at least attract other people who might be smokers...

Lighthouse

Abraham and Gretchen halted as the door opened and a man entered. It was Brother Shelby, a local of the Commonwealth and an asset to Quaid in his raid.

"Brother Quaid, we have a guest from another congregation. An Inquisitor from the north." At the finishing of his word a figure stepped inside, in the dim light it was hard to make out the details of their garments but Abraham recognized their headdress. It was an Inquisitor’s Cowl, worn by those who came from Holy Island to the North.

"I trust I'm not interrupting anything important, I am Inquisitor Carver, here on the authority of High Confessor Tektus. I must speak to those in charge of this congregation." Abraham squinted vainly in the darkness to recognize the man, he knew a Brother Carver from Megaton who had gone north. Abraham questioned if that was who stood before him now, that boy grown into an Inquisitor of Atom and High Confessor Tektus.

“Not at all Inquisitor Carver,” Quaid’s voice drew Abraham from his thoughts and he looked back to the seated man. Quaid returned his looked and smiled “Brother Abraham here was just leaving.” Abraham sighed and nodded slightly.

“Till we see each other again,” Abraham stepped past the Inquisitor and out of the lighthouse. Quaid adjusted himself in his seat but made no effort to stand or greet the Inquisitor any further.

“Now tell me, why has an Inquisitor such as yourself come all this way to my humble little congregation?”

Inquisitor Carver

“Not at all Inquisitor Carver,” the seated man replied, “Brother Abraham here was just leaving.”

I was right, that is Brother Abraham. I should speak to him later, mused the Inquisitor as he stepped through the threshold, ducking as to ensure the pipe on his cowl did not hit the door frame.

“Till we see each other again,” Abraham said as he departed.

“Now tell me, why has an Inquisitor such as yourself come all this way to my humble little congregation?” asked the seated man, evidently the congregation leader.

"The High Confessor has become privy to disturbing rumors that have reached the island," Carver began. "Rumors, specifically, of unprovoked attacks by Children of Atom on nonbelievers in the Commonwealth. Because, to our knowledge, this is the only congregation in the Commonwealth for whom nonbelievers are within its reach, we have determined that this is these rumors most likely pertain to your flock. As these allegations are both serious and potentially damaging to the Faith, he has seen fit to send me to investigate these rumors, determine the truth of the matter, and take measures to correct erroneous doctrine."

The Inquisitor found a chair and sat down as best he could with his bulky armor. "To begin this investigation, brother, I must ask you a few questions. First, how does your congregation fare, and what challenges do your flock face?"

I know little of the local matters, and with allegations such as these, proper context is key.

"Second, what is your congregation's relationship with the local nonbelievers, excluding raider gangs and mercenaries with whom peaceful coexistence is impossible?"

This question was partially to gain more context from the congregation's perspective- an essential part of seeking the truth in these matters- and partially to gauge the man's answer. As distasteful as it was, it was an Inquisitor's duty to anticipate the potential for lying and deceit even among their brothers and sisters.

"Lastly, brother, what do you say to these allegations? Have you seen any truth to the rumors that your congregation has been attacking nonbelievers? And if so, why?"

Rook sat and listened to the woman talk. She spoke of people setting themselves up to be gods, or simply not caring about one thing or another. He had seen this many, many times as well. He had spent close to twenty years wandering the wastelands afterall.

Rook wants to put trust that people are not all bad. Rook has seen many things as well. The Pitt, they made Rook fight for life. Capital Wasteland was hard and unforgiving. York Square is very close to that. Raiders, bandits, and monsters fight and kill those who are honest, hard-working, or simply wanting to be good.

"Salem has bad past, but has good people. Rook talks to you, and you listen, so you cannot be bad. Lady with plasma gun simply did not understand white flag, was afraid of Rook. Rook understands, he is too handsome to not be intimidated by." He would stand up and smile at the woman. "Rook will return to work now."

Turning, he would still listen to her, but he would also start making adjustments to the cars. He looked at them and then nodded. Looking back at her, he would hold up a finger to signal to wait, and return to his shack. He was only gone a few moments, before returning with a very well worn axe.

Assuming no one shot at him or freaked out, he would start cutting down one of the trees, aiming to use this as the first starts of the lumber they would use for the framework of the walls.

Dr. Arthur West - Salem Church

Arthur had just completed giving John the full diagnosis of his ailments (OOC: That Fish will explain) when another prospective patient entered the room quite suddenly.

“Hey doc need a checkup got slammed by a radstag into a tree, and head was bleeding pretty bad before… Sorry, didn’t see you were with someone.”

"May not want to barge into a clinic unannounced," Arthur said as he packed away some of the medical instruments he'd used during John's examination, "Might wind up seeing something you'd rather have not...but luckily I was just finishing up with Mr. Kaye here," He then leaned in to John to say in an almost whisper, "If you have any more questions about what I said, please come back. And remember what I said about the medicines I could use as well, that is if you are still offering to acquire them."

"Now.." He continued, turning to the newcomer, "I believe you said something about a head injury correct? And your name?"

Eliza Weaver
Salem, Massachusetts



A thick morning fog was rolling off the Atlantic and was beginning to blanket the wicked coast of the Commonwealth as Eliza came to. Her vision was blurry at first and the more conscious she became the more she hurt. Once she could see more than fog and throbbing shadows it wasn’t long before she realized where she was at. She was standing on a rickety wooden chair, her clammy hands bound behind her back while a thick noose dug itself into her neck . Eliza couldn’t remember just how she got where she was but she knew why she was here. A man dressed in a long weathered trench coat, and cowboy boots was standing a few feet away from Eliza. He’d gathered up most of Eliza’s valuables and was preparing to pack them onto her horse.

“So you’re going to hang me? 3,000 miles, and this is all I get. Why don’t you just shoot me?” Eliza’s voice was strained as the noose constricted her throat but even in her current state her tone conveyed that she was far from backing down.

Her angel of death turned to face her, a sinister smile cracked across his grimy face. He spoke to her like a friend, almost like at one point in their lives they were friends. Although that time was long behind both of them. “It’s nothing personal Eliza. This is how we do things back home remember? Don’t tell me that after all this time you forgot how we do things back west?”

Eliza’s feet were starting to slip off the chair as it lost it’s balance on the rough terrain beneath it. She kept a calm head and used what time she had left to get some answers off of the man that hunted her down, and finally caught her. “I’d call this pretty personal Bragg. You gunned everyone else down like they were stray dogs. It feels to me like you’re just playing with your catch.”

He walked closer to Eliza a drew his revolver, pressing the frigid barrel against her chest. “Oh honey don’t be so cold!” He cocked the hammer back and pressed his revolved even harder into Eliza’s chest causing her to nearly lose her balance and kick the chair out from under her. “All those others I killed chasing you down, they were just obstacles. I got paid to kill you and only you. I didn’t want to, but I sure as hell couldn’t turn down that bounty.”

There was a fire in Eliza’s eyes as she stared down the man holding a loaded gun to her chest. A bead of sweat ran down her forehead and dripped onto her already stained shirt as she tried to maintain her balance on the rickety chair. All the while both it and the decrepit branch above her groaned under the stress. “Is that all they were to you!? Obstacles? You fought with those people! Bled with those people!” Eliza’s voice cracked from the strain and the metallic taste of blood filled the back of her throat while she tried to yell. “I thought you were better than this!”

“We were both better than this Eliza. A long time ago.” Bragg uncocked his pistol and placed it back into his holster. His cold, heartless smile was replaced with a grim painful expression. Almost as if he was fully realizing what he was about to do. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Sorry for what?” Eliza’s heart was racing at his sudden shift in demeanor. She knew what was coming next even if she refused to believe it. Her last words quivered from her lips, as if his answer would make her satisfied with her death.

He didn’t give her the satisfaction of an answer. Bragg kicked the chair out from under Eliza, and while she plummeted towards the ground the tree branch snapped before the rope pulled taught enough to snap her neck. Startled Eliza immediately clambered to her feet and darted away towards the wilderness. Bragg was just as caught startled but he managed to draw his revolver and fire a round into Eliza’s back. With a sharp scream of agony Eliza collapsed to the ground mid sprint, her face smashed against the cold morning ground. She tried to regain her footing but another shot whizzed over her, and forced her back to the ground. It took everything she had to crawl using only her legs in an attempt to make it to cover, but Bragg caught her again. He came down on her with his full body weight, pinning her to the ground on her stomach. Eliza couldn’t move away from him, this was it. She could feel the gun barrel pressed against the back of her head, and she winced in anticipation for the shot. She knew she wouldn’t hear it, but she knew it was coming. Bragg grabbed Eliza’s dog tags from the back of her neck and ripped them loose, clutching them in his free hand.

“I’ll add these to the rest of my collection that you were so kind as to give to me.” He stuffed them into his pocket with the rest of the dog tags of all the Rough Riders he killed. All of Eliza’s comrades and friends he slaughtered. She saved their dog tags so they would never be forgotten, now they were nothing but trophies. Now that’s all she was, another head to hang on his wall. “I tried to make this easy for you Eliza, but I still respect you. You’ve got a stubborn head, and an iron heart. It’s a shame you’re the one she sent me to kill.”

Spitting grime from her mouth Eliza strained to respond through the pain and the pressure Bragg was placing onto her lungs. “She? I thought you worked for Coe?”

Even after everything he’s done up until this point it was obvious that Bragg was still struggling to answer her. “Charlotte hired me Eliza.... my days with Coe are over with.” He didn’t need to elaborate. Eliza knew just the Charlotte he was talking about, and it cut Eliza to the bone.

“Then do it you son of a bitch! Blow my fucking brains out!”

“I’m sorry Eliza I wanted this to be quick. For your sake. Lord knows you’ve suffered enough.” Bragg shifted his weight to take the shot and Eliza slipped out from under him. This time she made it close enough to the rocks she was aiming for that when Bragg shot her again she was able to roll behind them for cover. “Will you just fucking die!” Bragg followed Eliza’s trail of blood into the rocks. At this point she broke the rope restraining her hands, and slipped into the slick saturated soil of the coast. Bragg’s second round ripped through Eliza’s calf and she was bleeding heavily.

“Fuck!” Eliza clasped a hand on her wound and tried to stop the bleeding but the blood gushed from underneath her hand and mixed with the mud beneath her. “Looks like I’m dead anyway.”

Bragg found her curled up in the mud, her back against a rock. She had the look of a trapped animal on her face, and he was ready to end her suffering. He took his foot and kicked her onto her back, placing his boot between her breasts crushing her ribs. Eliza was struggling to breathe, but her adrenaline was still racing. She locked eyes with Bragg refusing to let him see her defeated. With her good leg Eliza kneed Bragg in the groin and shifted her weight up snag his revolver as he went down. As he hit the ground she already had his gun, and fired a shot into his chest as he tried to stand back up. He let out a scream as he crashed back down to the ground. Eliza crawled her way over to him and watched as he clutched his chest struggling not to choke on his own blood. She dug her bloodied hand into his pocket and retrieved the bundle of dog tags. Struggling to stand up Eliza started to walk away, gritting her teeth with every step. Bragg tried to talk to her but it was just gargling blood. When she looked back at him he was crying, his hands outstretched as if begging for mercy. A few words managed to escape his blood filled throat, but they were interrupted by the sound of him choking and struggling to breathe.

“Ple..ase, not…..li..ke. Eliza….please!” While he struggled to speak his tone was clear. He was begging for her to put him out of his misery. She even thought about it, she felt bad for him. Even after everything she still felt bad for him. After all the two of them weren’t that different in the end. It was that familiarity that Eliza used to rationalize why it hurt so much to leave him there alone in the cold slurry of blood and grime. She turned her back on him and walked away making it back to her horse. Everything from that point on was a blur. She secured her stuff onto her horse and managed to crawl on top of it. Fortunately the horse was smart enough to know where to go when she smacked it’s hind end because she was slipping in and out of consciousness, blood still pouring out of her leg and her gut. She managed to make it back to her hideout, falling off of her horse and crawling inside one of the windows. Probably the same one Bragg drug her out of. Eliza only managed to prop herself up against the nearest wall, and attempt to light a cigarette before she completely blacked out in an ever growing puddle of blood.

Lorelei Jones - Salem Outskirts

“Rook wants to put trust that people are not all bad. Rook has seen many things as well. The Pitt, they made Rook fight for life. Capital Wasteland was hard and unforgiving. York Square is very close to that. Raiders, bandits, and monsters fight and kill those who are honest, hard-working, or simply wanting to be good.”

Lorelei nodded slowly. “I heard legends of the Pitt while I lived in the Capital Wasteland. I am surprised—albeit glad—we did not cross paths in those days. A vast majority of the mutant population near Washington D.C. was openly hostile. I…” she frowned. “I probably would have shot you on sight. As anyone would have.” She somehow managed to rebound back into a warm smile. “Alas, this isn’t the Capital Wasteland. Thank god.”

"Salem has bad past, but has good people. Rook talks to you, and you listen, so you cannot be bad. Lady with plasma gun simply did not understand white flag, was afraid of Rook. Rook understands, he is too handsome to not be intimidated by." He would stand up and smile at the woman. "Rook will return to work now."

After staring blankly at the ground, Lorelei addressed Rook without looking up. Cannot be bad. She shrugged. “You wouldn’t have wanted to meet me five years ago. They call me something else in the west.” She paced around as Rook went back to work. “But this is a new place. A fresh start. Lorelei Jones is supposed to be a ‘good’ person. I suppose we will all learn soon whether this happens to be true.”

Lorelei itched her back underneath her jacket and grimaced, having poked a sensitive, engraved portion of her skin. “They’ll come to love you. But they aren’t used to people of your stature being friendly. Give them time. But be careful. Gun-infused prejudice can only get people hurt.” She looked around and folded her arms. “It was lovely to meet you, Rook…I…I think I’m going to wander around. Sightseeing of some sort. Perhaps I’ll run into someone strong enough to actually contribute with this wall.” She bowed her head. “I’ll see you.”

With that, Lorelei marched back up the hill, rifle slung around her back and desert eagle firmly embedded in its holster. She wandered the outskirts of town, carefully perusing the houses and captivatedly watching various folks move into their new homes. After a while, she moved on, finding herself parallel with a massive pink structure on the outer ring of the town. She watched as a woman crawled into one of the windows, leaving behind a slight blood trail against the brick.

What the hell? Lorelei drew her pistol and walked up to the front door. She knocked and received no answer. She opened it, surprised that it was unlocked, and walked into a dark hallway. She dug into her pocket for her lighter and flipped it, granting a small radius of light. Sure enough, a woman lay against the wall, a cigarette dangling from her mouth. Lorelei hurried over and took a better look at the crumpled form against the wall. It belonged to a young, rather pretty woman, although she had clearly seen much better days. She shook the woman’s shoulder, trying to wake her up, and patted various areas on the woman’s chest looking for the culprit of the bleeding. She found a bullet wound on her gut and the leg-wound was clearly visible. She started to mumble, unsure if the figure had yet woken up.

“…I’m going to need to get you to a doctor.” Lorelei tried to shake the woman’s shoulders again. “Are you all right?” A rather moot question – the answer was clearly a resounding ‘no’. “If you can’t walk, I can help you. The clinic is not far from here.”

Steve Cooper - Salem

Frieda smiled and pointed to the scar in the dirt where she'd shot at Rook. "I have a feeling the Enclave wouldn't call them toys, and neither would --” She paused to look up, seemlying intending to call attention to the super mutant himself but had not noticed he walked off a short while ago.

Rather sneaky for someone large...

"Dammit!" she swore, whipping around, looking frantically for Rook. "Where did he go?" Frieda walked the length of the square to the other side and looked around. She rounded on Steve and jabbed an accusatory finger. "If not for your unnecessary babbling, that mutant wouldn't have just walked off like that!"

Liable to lose a finger doing that... Bob did

“What? He walked off towards the beach a short while ago.” Steve replied as he finished off the smoke “wait... didn’t you notice he was missing? Barney and Overcoat girl also walked off too.” He chuckled on.

"You better hope he doesn't end up killing someone, or that blood's gonna be on your hands," she growled. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to find a fucking cigarette!"

He ain’t gonna kill anyone.... alteast not yet

“No it will be their fault for not running away fast enough oh and by the way “pedigree” is your family history.” Steve called out as Frieda stormed off toward the town diner on her heroic & epical quest to find a cigarette.

Must really want an smoke

Heading back to the Den Steve quickly checked on Edgar and rose to make too sure they were working before making his way upstairs to what once was Manager Traylor’s office in the insurance company but now his temporary bedroom.

Depending on how successful the den was Steve would probably move out, maybe to that shack he saw on the docks but for now Taylor’s corner office was his bedroom although with the work going on downstairs he’d only brought a mattress up to the room and placed his stuff on Traylor’s desk.

Will have to clear this place out later...

Picking up his lever action rifle Steve headed back down stairs and spoke to Edgar & Rose. “A friendly super mutant came into town earlier on... it was even holding a fucking white flag.”

“What white flag mean? "Edgar asked

“That it wants peace.” Steve replied “mutant claimed it didn’t get along with others mutants and that it wanted to join the town and settle down... needless to say I don’t exactly trust it.”

“What are you going to do?” Rose asked looking at Steve’s rifle

“Super mutants aren’t exactly know for their stealth skills, if he’s a scout for an attack force like I expect then it shouldn’t be too hard to spot them... Mutants may be tough up-close but if you can pick them off at a distance they aren’t any more trouble than your usual wasteland trash.”

Also works to charge them but only got my knife... should get something bigger.

Leaving the Den Steve made his way to the outskirt of town to look for a super mutant attack force. Back in DC the thought of a super mutant ambush would be laughable but these green mutants where something different, ever since Steve had gotten trapped in that library by them it made sure not underestimate them.

What the fuck is that?

However Steve did not find super mutants on his trip...

Up head was some of creature... it moved somewhat like a dog on Four feet but was much bigger, had hooved feet and was seemlying capable of transporting humans judging by the leather seat? On the creature back.

Could this be that creature from the books? what was it now...An unicorn?

Be it a “unicorn” or some other creature it was seemlying non-hostile and allowed Steve to approach and even touch it, the creature had smooth haired skin, a tail and rather long face but oddly no horn for a "unicorn." but perhaps that was down to radiation.

Investigating the leather chair thing on its back Steve discovered it held an handful of supplies and other personal items seemlying belong to some woman “Eliza” but that it was also covered in blood... It this unicorn did have an owner it seemed like someone had shot them off.

No-one is around... rider is probably shot off and unicorn kept on going for abit... if that’s the case then unicorn is coming back with me... bet I could make a killing selling this or should I keep it?

Unsure how to ride such a creature Steve gently pulled on the leather strap thing on the “unicorn’s” face and attempted to guide it back to town before some wasteland trash decided they wanted the unicorn for themselves.

OOC: steve will be slowly heading back to town if anyone wants to stop him.