Rook grinned as others talked about being able to help him with the wall. He knew that was not going to be easy, but he was glad that a lot of people were willing to help out with this. It didn't take him long to get the water drank, and he knew he needed to get the meat set up so it could be preserved and made into something more delicious. He could eat it raw of course, but that idea almost always turned his stomach. Sure, he had done so in the past, but that was a long time ago, and it was eat the rat or die at that point.

Ace was closing down the diner, and Rook nodded to everyone. “Rook is heading to his shack. If Rook is needed, please go ahead and get me. Rook looks forward to seeing everyone tomorrow and building more of the gate.” He said, nodding once more. “Sleep well.”

Like a Mutant, he didn't understand all the need for the manners, grabbed up the meat he had been sold, picked up his small bag of caps, white flag, and headed out. He was going to go by his wall to reach his shack anyways. It was honestly the easiest way to do things. He hated having to climb down the cliff side, as it was unstable for one of his size. It's why the Mirelurks tended to take other paths...

As he walked down, there was indeed a mirelurk. The movement of everything, the sudden influx of people, and everything else that had been happening had gotten this one curious of what was happening. While they were not mindless, they were not smart either. Rook dropped the food he was carrying, stabbed the white flag into the ground next to him, and walked towards the Mirelurk, popping his neck as he did so.

“Mirelurks not allowed in Salem. Salem under Rooks protection now. Leave crab person!” Rook shouted at it, his eyes narrowed in anger. “Leave!”

The Mirelurk was going to exit now, but not by it's own doing. When it charged Rook, it was woefully unprepared for the fight. As the razor sharp claw came in, Rook shifted, punching the creature in the shell of it's arm, cracking the armor like body plates upon it. He stepped in now, like a pre-war boxer, and smashed another punch into the water dwelling creature. Once more it staggered back, and Rook slammed his foot down, much harder than was needed.

In the dim light, he had seen the weapon he could use. The broken pole from the gate he had ripped out. Slamming his foot down caused it to pop up, and Rook caught it. Using all his weight, he shoulder tackled the creature, knocking it backwards and causing it to make noises of anger. Despite having a damaged claw, it lashed out, managing to grab Rook's left forearm. When it squeezed down, Rook could feel the pain of it, but he was hard to cut. The pole slid back as he raised up his free arm, stabbing the broken end of the pole forwards quickly.

The broken edge stabbed through the lightly armored face of the creature and everything went slack as it exited out the back of the shell. Rook was bleeding from the wound upon his arm, but he wasn't going to bother the doctor about it. He went to the trailer bed, pulled up an old bit of cloth, and wrapped his arm. He needed to get some tools, but he was going to harvest the meat and bring it back to the diner before the night was over.

When he was done with that, he left a cooler by the door of the diner, so it would be hit when Ace went to return to the diner, and he would be able to take the meat inside, Rook no where in sight.

Using his small camp fire, he was busy slowly roasting the meat to add to his stew. It would take a few hours, but he only needed a little bit of sleep. He would wash out his wound and redress it before the night was over as well.

FRIEDA RICHTER - Salem Diner

"Oh, that's okay. It happens a lot, since I'm short, and all! I'm used to it." Celeste looked back to Brandy. "Yeah, there's a robot that is left over from the war, when the place was an old folk's home. Poor thing had been stuck in some rut for years. Didn't realize its tenants were dead!" She shuddered. "I don't want to see another skeleton for the rest of my life, I'll say that."

Frieda chewed the inside of her cheek to stop herself from making a snarky reply. The woman next to her clearly was extraordinarily...special.

“How did you get a robot out of rut? It must be heavy, did somebody help you?” Brandy sighed, “Yeah, we should properly bury the skeletons, they deserve that much. I can only imagine the things they saw during their lifetime.”

"Hmm? Oh, it was in some kind of, uh, digital loop. It kept doing the same thing over and over. It said something about an update...ha, ha! I don't try to understand," Celeste replied, finishing her soup.

"For what it's worth, I have...uh, experience working with robots, so I know a bit about them. I might be able to help you out, if you need it," Frieda offered, politely. She glanced back at Brandy and saw a look in the younger woman's eyes.

Ace saved the day by placing another beer in front of her and declaring it was on the house. She nodded thankfully and accepted.

“Hold my beer and watch this," Brandy said, sliding her beer over the bar to Frieda. Before the blonde could say anything, Brandy got up, marched herself behind the bar to Ace and planted a kiss right on his lips. Frieda raised an eyebrow as she noticed Ace was startled, but didn't pull back.

"Damn, girl," Frieda smiled to herself, finishing the second beer and placing the empty on the counter. Brandy sauntered back to her stool and nearly missed it entirely. Frieda thrust out her hand to catch the younger woman, but Brandy managed relatively well enough.

"All right," Frieda cooed, picking up the last beer and gently guiding Brandy off the stool. "I think it's about time we get you home." She stooped to pick up her duffle bag and nodded at Celeste. "Nice to meet you. Brandy and I will stop by your inn tomorrow."

"Say 'goodnight,' Brandy," she said as she led Brandy from the diner. As soon as she was outside the building, she pulled out her smokes and lit one up.

"I'll say, I wasn't expecting you to do something like that, but...good for you," she praised Brandy as the strolled through Salem. "Definitely gave him something to think about, anyways." Frieda paused, realizing she had no idea where she was going. "Er, sorry. You should lead."

Adam 'Trails' Wilford- Ace's Diner

Adam had been looking up at the big man, well, mutant he supposed, as he spoke, “Yes, Rook is Rook. Rook made his armor and weapon, but those are back at his shack.” Rook had grasped his hand, like a grown man to a newborn's, and shook it. “Rook would like to make armor fit better, maybe replace some old parts that have worn out. Rook once had chest plate of the armor the Tin Men wear while not far from the Pitt. It was in a place called 'Depot.'” Adam's eyes furrowed as he looked at Rook's shoulders, "Hmmmm. Well, I reckon we could do something here." He gave a knock on the pauldrons with the back of his hands. "Maybe make them interchangeable so when you know you need to go to battle or you're in the Wastes, you can wear spiked shoulders. A big man like you could gore most anything with those and, all else failing, at the least you'd severely wound them." Adam twisted his jaw as he observed Rook's armor as Rook continued, “Rook traded it long ago however to get welding materials to help repair walls of a town. Rook wishes he could find armor like that again, or even make it! Rook would be able to stop all the bad things in the wastelands with armor like that. Rook is a Paladin of the Wastelands, that is what the old woman in red told Rook.” Adam could only chuckle, "A big ox like you? I could see that, but I don't think they make Power Armor in your size, hoss. But that ain't no reason for you not to make something just as good."

Adam took a bite of his steak when Rook spoke up again, “Does man know how to make gates out of big metal machines from before bombs? Rook has seen other places use them, but never understood how they worked. Rook was thinking of bring up old containers from water to use as wall materials, but Rook will need a lot of help with that. Rook is only so strong." Adam frowned, "Fraid not, big man. I can help weld a wall, put things together and all that. But I'm no inventor. I guess we could take a garage door of some kind and use that to slide the door up and down. Maybe like those old castles in books, you know? As for you suggestion of boxes, sure. I could probably help you out, Bessie too."

As Ace began to close down the diner, Adam nodded and remembered to place a stack of 10 caps on the counter as a tip for the good service. He untied Bessie from a nearby post and led her along. He stepped out into the evening air and led her along the eastern waterfront and sang softly to himself. "But I guess you count your blessings with the problems that you're dealing with today...." He trailed off as he went past a small warehouse unused. It was just a small square room, but it was all the home he'd need. The interior was very nice, just needed to clean out the rubble on the ground and it'd be a perfect small home. He dragged an old wooden beer crate inside, unslung his weapons and his pack beside him to sit under the window, the moonlight peering in. He dug through his pocket until he found the small metal makeup box he kept safe at all times. He unclipped the latch and opened it, smiling sadly. Inside was an old Codac camera picture of him and his family. He caressed each face with a sad longing and said softly, sadly, "I wish you all could see how far from home I've come." He closed the latch and put it back in a pocket and stood outside with Bessie, rubbing her heads. "Hey girls. You two getting sleepy yet?" He kissed each head and undid the bundle of ropes and latches on their backs and began to pile his goods beside the door. He didn't have much need for them, but he always took off Bessie's burdens each night.

As the hours passed, so had his energy as he swept out all the dust and rubble. Now it was clear enough for his bedroll and hotplate as well as a few odds and ends. He stood out in the cool night breeze and fed Bessie her meals. "Here you go girls. You know daddy always gets you the good food, huh?" They mooed happily at the delicious quality of Ace's vegetables. Adam smiled contently and went to lean on the rails overlooking the ocean. He saw something out in the pale of the moon, but couldn't make it out clearly. Digging into his pouch, he grabbed his binoculars to get a better look and his jaws dropped. Adam's only thought was the only man he could think of who could help, Rook.

Adam ran through town and to Rook's coastal shack, all the while screaming 'Rook!', likely rudely waking others from their slumber, but it didn't matter. He was out of breath and began knocking on the door, "Rook! Rook! Get out here, man! I need your help!"

Brandy couldn’t stop smiling as she watched Ace work around the diner, then she paused in though, He just let go of my waist, was I too forward ? She finished her beer as everyone talked when Ace spoke up, ““We’ll be closing shortly, it’s starting to get late,” Ace said as he grabbed a box of cigarettes and lit one. He stared at Brandy, but quickly turned away.

Way too forward I guess, she stared down at the counter. "Say 'goodnight,' Brandy," Frieda broke her thought and took Brandy’s arm and led her from the diner. Brandy looked back inside as Frieda pulled out her smokes and lit one up. "I'll say, I wasn't expecting you to do something like that, but...good for you," she praised Brandy as they left the diner. "Definitely gave him something to think about, anyways." Frieda paused, "Err, sorry. You should lead."

“Maybe,” Brandy shook her head trying to shake off the doubts. She rifled through her purse and pulled out a small flashlight, turning it on she dug for her pistol. “We can’t walk after dark without these.” Brandy stumbled off the curb, accidentally shooting a round from her .22 pistol; the bullet whirred in the air away from them. Quickly Brandy looked down the front of her and wiggled her toes, “I’m OK,” she raised her arm, “I’M OHHHHKKKAYYYYY!!!” she looked at Frieda and giggled, Frieda took the pistol from her hand, “You’re right, we don’t need that we have each other.” Brandy pointed, “See that gray house right there, that’s mine. “She looped her arm through Frieda’s and led her to her house. She fumbled for her keys then unlocked the front door, “Welcome to my house,” she escorted Frieda inside to reveal a well cleaned and organized living room. “That picture on the mantel is my Grandparents brother and me,” she had shelves neatly placed all around with an eclectic collection of antiques and knickknacks. Some may have been valuable, but to Brandy they all were, some had been in her family for years. She pointed at a dashing young man in an uniform, under the picture hung a purple heart, “That’s my great…” she paused in thought, “Not sure how many greats, but that is my Great Grandpa, he was in World War 2. The Purple Heart was because he was shot while overseas in Germany. He must have been a magnificent and brave man. Maybe if we have time tomorrow I can show you my photo albums. There are a lot of amazing pictures in them from before The Great War.” She also had tourist fliers hanging on the walls along with landscape pictures.

Brandy sat her purse and keys on the kitchen table, “The bathroom is down that little hall on your left, there’s another upstairs too. Are you thirsty? I’m making a mutfruit and vodka, would you like one?” She flipped on the light above her sink after sitting down a jug of mutfruit juice and a bottle of vodka. She squint her eyes as she looked outside, “Frieda, I think someone’s sitting outside.” Keeping an eye on the person, she finished mixing the drinks. She leaned by the window for a closer look and could smell cigarette smoke, she squint again, “That…that might be Ace.” Brandy opened a drawer and pulled out two straws, placing one in each drink, “Excuse Frieda, I don’t mean to mean rude but I have to see who that is.”

Brandy held her drink and quietly made her way onto the front porch and around the side of the house where she took a third look. That is Ace; she sat her drink down and ran her fingers through her hair then straightened her sundress. Grabbing her drink she tiptoed closer, “I’m afraid you’re trespassing Sir.” She blushed and smiled, then quickly went over next to Ace, “No, I was kidding…stay…please.” She sat down in the warm sand right next to Ace, scooching closer until her body was lightly touching his, “Ace, did I upset you? I didn’t mean to if I did I…” she buried her toes in the sand, “I just wanted you to know…I…I like you.” It was relief, but she was still antsy, “I think maybe you should ask me out…OR, like Frieda said, I should ask you?” Lost for words, her nerves building up, she took a sip, “Would you like some? It’s mufruit and vodka.”

Ace Makovich – Salem Coast

Before he knew it, Rook was fighting the mirelurk. The fight wasn’t short, and it seemed both had inflicted good shots on each other. Before long, rook had speared the creature and it went down. *If anything, that greenskin can fight*

As he stared through the monocular, he felt something next to him. He dropped the monocular, and his hand went for his gun. His head turned and Brandy had taken a seat next to him. His heart was racing, for minute he thought a mirelurk had sprung up next to him.

“Damn Brandy, you scared the shit out of me.” Ace said as he put his gun away, grabbed his monocular and placed it in his pocket.

“Ace, did I upset you? I didn’t mean to if I did I…” she buried her toes in the sand, “I just wanted you to know…I…I like you. I think maybe you should ask me out…OR, like Frieda said, I should ask you?” she took a sip of her drink, “Would you like some? It’s mufruit and vodka.”

Ace stared back at the ocean, let out a sigh, “No…I’m fine.” She pestered him again, knowing he was lying or keeping something from her. “Okay…fine.. you just embarrassed me in front of everyone. Okay… how do you think I feel? Or should feel.”

Ace stared as Adam and his Brahmin made their way across the pier below to one of the warehouses. He took along drag on his cigarette and offered her one. He took the second glass from her hand. It was quiet for a bit, with nothing but the sound of crashing waves. Ace could tell without looking at her, brandy was uneasy and tense.

Ace drank his drink in one gulp. He licked his lip, he quickly leaned over and planted a quick kiss on her lips. He jumped up, handed her the glass back, “Well it is getting late and I need to get up early tomorrow.” He started to walk away. When he was nearing the street, he turned around towards Brandy, and said loudly enough for her to hear, ‘Well it seems like you did just ask me out by the way. I expect flowers and chocolates.”

Shelby gave Steve a slight grin and reached out and put her arms around his legs, “Thank you,” she looked at the brunette, “Thank you too, I’m Shelby.” The couple ended up leaving and Shelby just watched the doctor. She laid her head down on Eliza’s pillow and just stared, it was still difficult for her to fathom that after all this time Eliza was right in front of her. The door groaned as it opened, she looked to see a well-kept man cautiously walk in. He took a quick glance at Shelby before taking up residence at Eliza’s bed side.

“Eliza? Eliza it’s me...Dutch.” The man paused.

“Dutch?” The man removed his hat and held it over his heart while he knelt down beside the bed, nodding to the Shelby.

Dutch placed his free hand on Eliza’s shoulder. “It’s me Lizzy.” He mustered a small smile to Eliza.

“I can’t believe you’re here. I thought you were never coming back.”

Dutch placed his hand on Eliza’s head, gently brushing her hair in an attempt to comfort her. “I know I rode off on my own path Eliza, but it lead me back to you. I just wish I had gotten here sooner.” Eliza grinned at his retort before she closed her eyes again and exhaled slowly, shivering in the process.

Dutch looked at Shelby; she had been unable to turn off her tears and wiped them from her face. He gently placed his arm around her shoulders patting her back. “I’m Dutch. We used to...work together. I take it you’re close to Liz...sorry Eliza? Sometimes I forget she doesn’t like to be called that.”

Shelby rest her head on Dutch’s shoulder and sighed, “You could say that…I’m Shelby…Jackson. Eliza and I met in New Vegas.” Her mind raced with memories, though short and sweet of their time together in Vegas. She put her head back by Eliza’s, “You were one of her Rough Riders?” Once the doctor was finished Shelby slowly stood up, she draped a blanket carefully over Eliza before she very carefully climbed under the blanket next to her. “I wasn’t sure if she was dead, just left me, I had no idea. But apparently something happened, no idea what though.” She kissed Eliza’s cheek, “But she’s here now, we’ll be able to start our life together away from all of the bullshit,” she brushed Eliza’s hair again, “Ain’t that right Hun?” Shelby looked at Dutch, “You seem genuine, and if you want to stay here that’s fine. But…as sure as I’m lying here, if you have any ill intentions for her, I will send you straight to hell. I lost her once, I’ll be damned if I will lose her again.” She took a breath, “I apologize, my emotions are haywire right now, I hope you understand?”

Ace stared out at the ocean, let out a sigh, “No…I’m fine.” She pestered him again, knowing he was lying or keeping something from her. “Okay…fine... you just embarrassed me in front of everyone. Okay… how do you think I feel? Or should feel.”

Brandy leaned back as her jaw dropped, “I…I…” She tried to come up with words but failed miserably as Ace downed his drink.

Ace quickly leaned over and planted a quick kiss on her lips. He jumped up, handed her the glass back, “Well it is getting late and I need to get up early tomorrow.” He started to walk away. When he was nearing the street, he turned around towards Brandy, and said loudly enough for her to hear, ‘Well it seems like you did just ask me out by the way. I expect flowers and chocolates.”

Her mouth curved into a huge smile, it was a fast rollercoaster of emotions, she waved, “OH…OK, flowers and chocolates,” she stood up and brushed the sand from her rear, “Ya…You got it, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She put her glass inside of Ace’s and ran to the front door swinging it open, slamming it behind her and leaning up against it. She was breathing rapidly, “Frieda, FRIEDA!!! He said yes,” she gushed. “You were right, I did what you said and asked him and he said YES,” she bounced then ran over to Frieda and threw her arms around her dropping the glasses. “Thank you, you are the nicest person I’ve met in…forever. I need to wash up and get some sleep, Ace is going to be up early and he wants flowers and chocolates. Do you know where I can find some?” Brandy pressed her lips together, “I ate all my candy the other day.”

Taking Frieda’s hand she led her upstairs, “Your room is right there on the left, mine is right next door and the bathroom is over there. Like I said, I’m right next door if you need anything, you can wake me up OK?” She hugged Frieda, “Thanks so much again.” Brandy float to the bathroom and washed up and quickly returned to her room and put on a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt, she poked her head around the door frames, “Goodnight Frieda.”

Brandy jumped into bed and pulled up the covers, “I used diluted Abraxo detergent to clean the mattress and bedding, took forever to get the stains out.” she yelled to Frieda through the wall. She looked at the picture on her nightstand of her Grandparents and smiled.

“I sure miss you two,” she spoke louder than normal because of her beer buzz, “Grandpa, Grandma, you wouldn’t believe it, Salem it a special place. I’ve met so many nice people recently it is truly amazing. If it weren’t for you encouraging me Grandma, you were right, I finally found a place where I fit in and be me. I met a friend today, her name is Frieda and I think we will be the best of friends. She helped me with my confidence. OOHHH, and I met a friendly super mutant, his name is Rook, he is such a sweet…thing.” She snuggled down in her pillow and smiled, “I have a boyfriend too, his name is Ace, and I think you and Grandpa would really like him. He is sweet, a good cook and a businessman. I’m really excited to see where it goes, he is such a great guy, and I’ve known him for a little bit, he was here in Salem when I came to town. I am getting my beach house to look nice, it’s been a lot of work, but it has been so worth it. Tomorrow I’m going to show Frieda how relaxing the sand and ocean can be, you guys would like her too.” She yawned, “I need to get to bed, I have to find flowers and chocolates for Ace in the morning. I love you Grandpa, I love you Grandma, goodnight.”

Thomas Kater
Salem, Massachusetts



Tom looked at the ground for a moment before looking at Shelby again. He understood where her emotions were taking her but he was still caught off guard by the outburst. He placed his hat back on his head. Shelby was obviously a woman Tom didn’t want to cross, she reminded him a lot of Eliza when he first met her. Now he didn’t fear Eliza like he used to, he was worried for her instead. It had been so long since he had seen her but from what he had gathered over the last few months she had gone over the edge. Even her physical appearance was drastically different from what Tom remembered. She obviously lost a lot of weight, and she was not nearly as well kept as she used to be. The Eliza he remembered would be the cleanest person in the unit. Even if they were on campaign for months on end. Now he could see she hadn’t been maintaining herself nearly as well. He just hoped that when she came to that she would be able to cope with what had happened. Shelby appeared to be strong but Tom couldn’t help but contemplate her ability to help Eliza. He doubted himself and he had known Eliza for far longer. Tom contemplated saying something to Shelby about it but he held his tongue on the issue.

“I understand. I’ve hurt her enough already. I just wanted to make sure she was okay. I’ve already buried one friend today…..I don’t think I could bury another.” Tom made his way out of the room, he was defeated. Shelby obviously cared for Eliza more than he did, he had to trust that she would take care of her. He had come all of this way for something he’d never get. Eliza could never forgive him for leaving, the damage was done. All he could do now was move on and let Eliza do the same, he was just another reminder of how horrible things had been for her. She had the chance at a new life now and Tom didn’t want to deny her that. He opened the door and started to leave but he stopped and said something to Shelby. “Take good care of her alright? She’s not nearly as strong as she used to be.” Before Shelby could respond Tom was out the door.

He made his way to his horse and untied it before heading out of town and back to Bragg’s grave. Tom fished a musty bottle of whiskey from his saddle bag and collapsed into the dirt alongside Bragg’s grave. He popped the cork out of the bottle and took a long swig. “All of this way….and for what? I should have just stayed out west. All I’ve managed to do since I left was let everyone down.” Tom couldn’t help but see the images of all of the people he fought with. He couldn’t remember what they looked like before they died, all he could remember was their horrifying faces….their mangled corpses. Taking another swig Tom tossed the bottle and collapsed onto his back into the dirt. “She’s better off without me.”

FRIEDA RICHTER - Salem

“Maybe,” Brandy shook her head. She rifled through her purse and pulled out a small flashlight, turning it on she dug for her pistol. “We can’t walk after dark without these.” Brandy stumbled off the curb, accidentally shooting a round from her .22 pistol; the bullet whirred in the air away from them. Quickly Brandy looked down the front of her and wiggled her toes, “I’m OK,” she raised her arm, “I’M OHHHHKKKAYYYYY!!!” she looked at Frieda and giggled.

Frieda gently, but firmly, took the pistol from her hand. "Let me hang on to that, all right?" She snapped the safety on and popped it into her belt.

“You’re right, we don’t need that we have each other.” Brandy pointed, “See that gray house right there, that’s mine. “She looped her arm through Frieda’s and led her to her house. She fumbled for her keys then unlocked the front door, “Welcome to my house,” she escorted Frieda inside to reveal a well cleaned and organized living room. “That picture on the mantel is my Grandparents brother and me,” she had shelves neatly placed all around with an eclectic collection of antiques and knickknacks. She pointed at a dashing young man in an uniform, under the picture hung a purple heart, “That’s my great…” she paused in thought, “Not sure how many greats, but that is my Great Grandpa, he was in World War 2. The Purple Heart was because he was shot while overseas in Germany. He must have been a magnificent and brave man. Maybe if we have time tomorrow I can show you my photo albums. There are a lot of amazing pictures in them from before The Great War.”

Pre-war military history! Now, that's interesting. Frieda leaned to gaze over Brandy's shoulder and take a closer look at the photo. "Yeah, sure, we can do that tomorrow sometime."

Brandy sat her purse and keys on the kitchen table, “The bathroom is down that little hall on your left, there’s another upstairs too. Are you thirsty? I’m making a mutfruit and vodka, would you like one?” She flipped on the light above her sink after sitting down a jug of mutfruit juice and a bottle of vodka.

Frieda looked at the beer she was still holding, but didn't want to be rude. She had no idea what "mutfruit and vodka" even was. "Okay, yeah. Thanks." She glanced around the kitchen while Brandy played bartender.

Suddenly, Brandy looked out the window and paused. “Frieda, I think someone’s sitting outside.”

"Like, a raider, or something?" Frieda's hand went to her plasma pistol. "Do you want me to go check it out?"

Brandy paused, again. “That…that might be Ace.” Brandy opened a drawer and pulled out two straws, placing one in each drink, “Excuse me Frieda, I don’t mean to mean rude but I have to see who that is.”

Frieda watched the young woman snatch her drink and leave through the front door before she could say a single word. Now, standing in a stranger's kitchen, with two drinks and nothing to do, she wandered back out to the living room and looked over the photos again. Brandy had a brother, too, I see. Older, from the looks of it in the picture. She took a sip of the cocktail and recoiled so violently, she nearly spilled both drinks all over the floor. "Noooooo thanks," she said out loud, placing the cocktail onto a nearby end table. She spent a couple more moments looking over the photos and posters before settling herself onto the couch with one of the pre-war magazines lying around.

The door banged open and Brandy burst in, clutching her empty glass, flushed, and out of breath. “Frieda, FRIEDA!!! He said yes,” she gushed. “You were right, I did what you said and asked him and he said YES,” she bounced then ran over to Frieda and threw her arms around her dropping the glasses. “Thank you, you are the nicest person I’ve met in…forever. I need to wash up and get some sleep, Ace is going to be up early and he wants flowers and chocolates. Do you know where I can find some?” Brandy pressed her lips together, “I ate all my candy the other day.”

Frieda's mouth opened and shut a few times, trying to respond to everything Brandy said. "Ahh -- well -- awesome! I'm glad it worked out for you." She rubbed her brow. "Wasn't there a funny looking trader in the diner? Tom, something? I bet he'd have some chocolates, or at least know where to find some. We'll figure that all out tomorrow, okay?"

Taking Frieda’s hand, Brandy led her upstairs, “Your room is right there on the left, mine is right next door and the bathroom is over there. Like I said, I’m right next door if you need anything, you can wake me up OK?”

"Heh, all right," Frieda chuckled. "I'll make sure to wake you up if I have a bad dream."

She hugged Frieda, “Thanks so much again.” Brandy went to the bathroom, and Frieda entered her room. Frieda dropped her bag and began to unbuckle her razzmatazz collection of light armour, feeling several pounds lighter for having shed it. She yanked the elastic out of her hair, letting her locks fall down beyond her shoulders and sighed. She had pulled off her sweaty t-shirt and was shimmying out of her cargo pants when Brandy popped her head back in.

“Goodnight Frieda.”

"Night, Brandy. Put a glass of water by your bed, okay?" She smiled and closed the bedroom door behind her, then rifled through her bag for a clean shirt.

Fruitless search. None of the few items she'd managed to scavenge after her week or so in the wasteland, proper, were clean. She sighed, a pang of homesickness hitting her just then.

Idiot, Richter. You're gonna cry over fucking laundry, now? Get it together. Frieda picked out one of the softer shirts she'd found and slipped it on just for bed. Another pang hit her, but something more banal. She opened her door and tiptoed to the bathroom to use the toilet. As she sat there, staring at the faded wallpaper, she thought she heard Brandy talking.

"...his name is Ace, and I think you and Grandpa would really like him. He is sweet, a good cook and a businessman. I’m really excited to see where it goes, he is such a great guy, and I’ve known him for a little bit, he was here in Salem when I came to town. I am getting my beach house to look nice, it’s been a lot of work, but it has been so worth it. Tomorrow I’m going to show Frieda how relaxing the sand and ocean can be, you guys would like her too.”

Frieda blushed, realizing she was not meant to have heard anything that she had, and quickly finished up before scurrying back to her room. She stretched out onto the bed and sighed contentedly. The stained mattress definitely beat sleeping on the ground. She reached up to twiddle with her dog tags, to find they weren't there.

Of course they weren't. She'd taken them off days ago.

She felt physically exhausted and yet lay on the bed for several minutes, unable to fall asleep. Her stomach growled, loudly. She realized she'd had nothing to eat since earlier that day. Frieda pinched her eyes shut and tried to tell herself to itnore it, that she'd find some breakfast in the morning.

Her stomach growled again as response.

Dammit.

Frieda got out of bed and found herself in Brandy's room, shaking the younger woman awake. "Hey. Brandy? You don't have to get up but do you have anything to eat? I'm starving and can't get to sleep."

Rook had been in his shack for a while. He had taken the time to cook the meat that he had bought and he then get it placed either in the stew, or in containers that had acquired from long ago. Pre-war people were all about keeping things good as long as humanly possible, so these containers only made sense for them. Plastic to keep air out and be able to rewash out, but also to keep them strong and unable to decay. That was the best part of them.

With all of that done, Rook did his usually nightly rituals. It was patterned behavior he had learned in the twenty some years of his life to do. Make sure his weapon is in good shape, spending some time tightening the leather, sharpening the blade, making sure the weight was still set properly. Then came his pistol. Personally, he sucked at using it. Sure, it had been given a minor change to make it easier for him to use, but overall... He was a terrible shot with it. Perhaps he would give it to Lorelei or Brandy. Maybe they could make better use of it.

Finishing up with the cleaning of the pistol, he then turned to his armor. He knew it could be a lot better, but perhaps for now it was enough. He would clean it, make note of any damage upon it, and then rehang it upon his rack. It was almost always more comfortable to sleep outside of his armor, and this night was no exception. He had just sat down when the noise was echoing outside... Something was wrong. He could hear his name...

As the voice got closer, Rook put on his armor. Part of him hoped he wasn't about to be run out of town, but he didn't think he was about to be... Still, safe over sorry. The person yelling sounded like the trader, the one who he spoke to before. Odd? Why would he be here? When the pounding on the door happened, Rook stepped outside, holding his halberd in one hand, and helmet in the other.

“Trader man? What wrong? Rook is here. Is town under attack? Does Rook need to kill more Mirelurks to help protect town?” Rook asked, seeing how panicked the man looked. “Does Rook need to fight more bad creatures!?”

Adam 'Trails' Wilford- Rook's Shack

Adam had been knocking fervently on Rook's door on autopilot and accidentally knocked his hand on Rook's armor in his excitement and pulled it bank in pain, "Ow!" Adam stepped back, "Hey there, big man.". Rook was looking down on him, “Trader man? What wrong? Rook is here. Is town under attack? Does Rook need to kill more Mirelurks to help protect town?” Rook asked. “Does Rook need to fight more bad creatures!?" Adam looked confused, "Mirelurk? Those crab things? What? Oh, no. I have something better! Come look! It's over by my place, the small warehouse on the other side of town!" Adam turned away, sprinting eagerly back home.

When Adam got back, he'd waited for Rook with the excitement of a child. "Rook! I know it's late, but you need to see this!" Adam looked out and pointed, holding out his binoculars for Rook to use. "It's a boat! And best of all it looks like it's still usable." He then pulled out a small notepad and scribbled on the paper, then looked to Rook. "Now, I know I got a little ahead of myself, but here's what I reckon we can do." He then held up the notepad and pointed at the crude diagram. "Now, I don't know if you guys can swim or sink like stones, so I came up with a plan. Either we use a small paddle boat or I just swim out there. We put a bunch of rope in the boat or I wrap it around me, then tie it onto the boat's mooring line, well, where it should go. I paddle or swim back here. Now, from there, I figure you, me and Bessie there can all pull and after a while, she'll be brought to the shoreline and I can get her fixed up. Can you imagine it, Rook? We'll be able to get a good fishing business up and running for the town. As for you, I'd be permanently in your debt for the help. I'm thinking a nice crate or a barrel full of whatever we catch for free might be good incentive. Not right now though, it's a little late for that. But maybe in the morning or afternoon tomorrow. What do you say, big man? Sound like a plan?"

Brandy felt someone shake her; she quickly rolled over, "Hey. Brandy? You don't have to get up but do you have anything to eat? I'm starving and can't get to sleep."

She stretched and yawned, “Ya…yeah, I have food.” She sat up and scratched her head, “I could use a snack too, I never ate today.” She led Frieda downstairs to the kitchen and opened the fridge, “I loaded up on supplies when Shelby and I went to the sanctuary.” She opened up two different cupboards to show Frieda more options, “I don’t have a single cap to my name, but I have food,” she giggled. “Look at these Frieda,” she popped the top off a plastic container, “Fresh eggs, have you have had them?”

Brandy opened up a drawer and pulled out a box of Fancy Lads, “I love these things, you want some?” She opened up a package and wandered into the living room and looked over her bookshelf full of books, not this one, nope, not that one either, oh here it is. She pulled out an old romantic book and smiled, she held it up for Frieda to see, “This book has some good ideas for me to follow to make Ace happy.” She blushed and whispered, “Naughty ideas.” She flipped through a couple of pages, “Like this here, wearing special outfits and stuff.” She let out a big yawn, “I’m going to go back to bed, just help yourself to whatever you want Frieda, I have more than enough for both of us.” As she got halfway up the stairs she stopped and turned around, “I hope the rooster doesn’t bother you, I’ll get him to quiet down after he wakes me up, otherwise he’ll keep being loud.”



The rooster was right in sync with the sun as it crowed loudly outside. Brandy rubbed her eyes, stretching her legs before raising her arms above her head. She smiled as the sun glistened off the water. She got up and quietly went into the bathroom, being quick in order to feed the chickens and hush the rooster. Slipping into her canvas tennis shoes she made her way downstairs and to the basement. “Good morning my little chicks,” she cooed at the several baby chicks she kept safe inside and spread some feed she had made for them. Scooping a container into the grain mix, she took it out to her chicken coop, spreading it all around for the chickens; the rooster decided it was better to eat than make a racket. “How many do we have this morning girls?” She asked her six hens and carefully picked up the eggs and put them in the container before returning inside to the kitchen.

She placed the fresh eggs on the counter and turned on the faucet, washing off the eggs. She pulled a tin of Cram from the cupboard and opened it up. She put it on a plate and sliced it up into even pieces. Pulling some potatoes from another cupboard she peeled and sliced them up. Her favorite ingredient, courtesy of her Grandmother’s butter churn, butter was pulled from the fridge next and a fair amount was put into the frying pan. Brandy cracked the eggs, making 2 sunny side up and scrambling the rest. The Cram popped and hissed as it cooked on the other burner, the toaster popped up with four kind of burnt slices. The potatoes snapped and crackled as they sat in a little cooking oil. Pulling three plates from the cupboard Brandy prepared three plates, and two cake plates with one sunny side egg on each. She placed two plates and one cake plate on the kitchen table then brought out two glasses and mutfruit juice along with silverware. “Smells good, I’ll run Ace his plate before I wake Frieda up.”

Brandy stopped, sitting down the two plates on the coffee table and quickly wrote Frieda a note letting her know she took Ace breakfast. Frieda, I took Ace some breakfast, I will be right back. Go ahead and eat if I’m not back, the extra dippy egg is for you, I wasn’t sure how you liked your eggs. Brandy After sitting the note on the table next to Frieda’s plate she scooped up the two plates and walked across the street to the diner. She sat them down and pulled at the door, it was locked so she ran home and grabbed a small screwdriver and bobby pin; she fidgeted with the lock until it gave in and let her inside. The bell above the door seemed louder than normal. She sat the food down on the counter writing another note on an order pad, Good Morning Honey, I brought you breakfast; I didn’t want to wake you. I will stop by later, I have to find you some flowers and chocolates. I hope you enjoy the food. P.S. I have some more eggs if you would like. Brandy

Brandy left as quietly as she could and returned home. She sat down at the table and ate, reading a Boston Bugle newspaper from long ago.

“I understand. I’ve hurt her enough already. I just wanted to make sure she was okay. I’ve already buried one friend today…..I don’t think I could bury another.” Tom made his way out of the room. He opened the door, “Take good care of her alright? She’s not nearly as strong as she used to be.” Before Shelby could respond Tom was out the door.

Shelby’s heart ached for the man; she wasn’t given a chance to respond. She looked at Eliza, “I didn’t know, I’m sorry for running him off, I didn’t intend for that to happen.”

The stung as blood was drawn from her, she held true to what she had said that whatever Eliza needed she would give. Eliza needed a fair amount of blood, enough so that Shelby had become woozy and weak herself. She knew she would be fine and recover faster than Eliza, a small sacrifice for the woman she had given everything up for, the woman she longed for. Shelby held Eliza and drift off to sleep.



Shelby awoke, she was very groggy but quickly realized as the sun shone outside that it was the first night she hadn’t had a nightmare in a very long time. She looked at Eliza and nuzzled her cheek, “I’m still here Hun. If the Doc says it’s alright, I will wash you up later. Maybe even be able to take you to my place, but only if the Doc says I can.”

Dr. Arthur West - Salem Church Clinic

Arthur had tailed closely behind the group of would-be-rescuers as they took the injured woman back to the clinic. The man carrying her, Steve, had carried her up the steps and to the second floor. Arthur made a mental note that once he'd gotten the chance, he needed to move his equipment to the first floor and keep the second as his personal quarters. He'd been meaning to do just that but unfortunately, there really hadn't been any time to do so. Things had been hectic with treating patients ever since he'd arrived in the town.

Arthur immediately set to work treating Eliza. The bleeding in her leg and abdomen had been stopped, and thankfully, it appeared the bullet had traveled clean through in her leg without nicking a major artery. However, the bullet wound she'd taken to her back was more severe, and this is the one that had Arthur the most concerned. The bullet was still lodged somewhere inside her torso and he might have to perform surgery to remove it. Surgery in these conditions, however, was less than ideal and the risk of infection was always looming overhead, and it could quite possibly kill her rather than help her. He silently cursed the non-sterile environment he was forced to work in and the lack of equipment. If only they were in his old lab...these injuries would be no more severe than a flea bite when compared to the medical technology back at The Institute.

Arthur's concentration was broken with the arrival of visitors to the clinic, one in particular seemed very concerned about the woman, who he'd learned as named Eliza.

“Thank you, all if you. Doc, if she needs anything at all, blood, anything I can give her from me, I don't care what it is, even if it kills me.” She wiped her cheeks, “Don't let her die, please, I will do anything. You name your price, I'm good for it Doc.”

"Yes...well," Arthur cleared his throat, "The wound she's suffered are grievous, but she stands a good chance of survival. My clinic is not near the level of medical equipment that I'd like to have, but I still should have what I need to treat her. If you are serious about the blood transfusion, then I'll need to ensure you have a compatible blood type...in either case we don't have much time. So please...hold out your hand so I can prick a sample..."

------------------

The following morning

Arthur had worked frantically throughout the night to save Eliza. Using all his medical skills and training to do what he could for her. Given his lack of equipment and the less-than-ideal conditions they were under, he was quite proud of his work. The transfusion had been a success and Arthur had also managed to clean and treat both of wounds to the point where she was now in stable condition. He hadn't dared risk a full surgery to remove the pieces of the bullet that had still remained, but he had done what he could. She was now bandaged all around her torso and leg and had several intravenous tubes inserted into veins in her wrists. Both for the transfusion and for a bag of IV fluid.

Arthur was in the process of changing out the empty IV bag when the two women had awoke,

"Good morning Ms. Eliza," He said, as cheerfully as he could, "You survived the worst of it I'd say. There was a few times in the night where you had me worried, but your condition is quite stable now. I expect you should recover nicely."

As he spoke, he clasped a blood pressure gauge to her upper arm and began taking a reading.

"Much better," He said with a smile.

“I’m still here Hun. If the Doc says it’s alright, I will wash you up later. Maybe even be able to take you to my place, but only if the Doc says I can.”

"....Oh..well," Arthur said awkwardly, his previous medical professional was replaced with an unsteady tone as he realized that he was an apparent 'third wheel' of sorts in this situation. He cleared his throat and tried to regain his composure, "I expect she'll need a few more hours to recover before I can release her in good conscious. And even then she will still need to be cared for carefully, but of course, I can't stop you if you wish to leave now Ms. Eliza. It is up to you."

Eliza Weaver
Salem, Massachusetts



When Eliza came to she had a hard time making sense of where she was at. Her head was still filled with an obnoxious haze that prevented her from getting a clear focus on anything. All of the events from the night before seemed like nothing but a lucid dream to her. With the only thing being certain was Shelby’s return, and that was only because she awoke to Shelby curled up alongside of her. Eliza was slow to rise seeing as how her body was still totally exhausted but she tried her best to shake off the shackles of her slumber. When Shelby and the doctor spoke to her she could hear what they were saying but it took her a moment to truly take it in. Unsure if she could form a coherent sentence in her current state of post sleep delirium Eliza found another way to signal to Shelby that she was still with her. She interlaced their fingers together and firmly gripped Shelby’s hand in hers. Eliza felt much warmer today than she remembered feeling the night before, but her pain still haunted her. It was not nearly as severe as it was before. Instead it transformed into a dull, lingering pain that didn’t seem to go away. Eliza figured that if she tried to move it would make the pain worse so instead of trying to re-position herself in bed she took a moment to wipe the crust from her eyes.

Feeling much more alert than she initially did Eliza was able to work up a response to the doctor. “I’m still feeling a little out of it doctor, so I don’t think a few more hours will hurt.” Eliza paused for a brief moment as she tried to regain her focus, before she continued. “No offense to you doctor but I don’t want to stay in this clinic any longer than I have to. I’m not really sure of who I can trust in this town and I’d feel safer at home.” Eliza started to sweat from the warmth of Shelby against her so she removed the blanket from her body, leaving Shelby covered. With the covers removed Eliza could finally realize just how much of a toll the last few months had taken on her body. In comparison to Shelby’s healthy and fit physique Eliza looked weak, and frail. She had tried to keep herself healthy but the months of constant stress and anxiety had clearly ravaged Eliza’s body. Eliza was ashamed of herself, she was always the one that took care of herself and now who was she? Her body was covered in dried grime and blood, she felt horrible. Fortunately for her Shelby was there and just her presence alone helped Eliza maintain her composure. “As long as Shelby stays I’ll be more comfortable here. Nothing against you doctor. I’m thankful for what you’ve done for me so far…..I’m just a little anxious around strangers.”

Eliza took a moment to work up the courage for what she was about to say. Just the fact that she had to ask made her feel like a child. “Do you think I would be able to get cleaned up?” I look like I just crawled out of a grave, and judging by how I feel. I think I might have.” Eliza’s spunk was slowly coming back to her but her strength was not nearly as resilient, and it tore her apart. It wasn’t in her nature to let someone else take care of her, but now she didn’t have a choice. She couldn’t bring herself back to the woman she was before…..she needed Shelby now more than ever.

Ace Makovich - Salem

Ace headed back to the diner as it was getting late. In front of his door was a cooler, and inside the remains of a mirelurk. *It seems Rook has left me a gift. Why is that mutant trying so hard to get us to accept him.* He scratched his head as he pondered the question, but nevertheless, it was something he could use to cook.

Rather than head to bed he prepared the mirelurk to later use in milelurk cake and chowder. As he was working, he heard the newcomer called Adam, run down the dark streets calling for Rook. Ace shaked his head in disbelief, and said to himself, "Just who would seek out and wake up a sleeping Super Mutant. He must be new around these parts."

Soon he was done and headed to bed. He looked at a terminal, and saw he had received a message. *Payment received. Expect delivery soon.* Tom's courier had done his job and delivered the case. As he laid on his bed, his thoughts turned to Brandy. *What am I doing? I can't stop thinking of Reggie... I don't want to hurt Brandy, like I did Reggie.*

------------------------Next morning--------------------

Ace woke up early. He turned in his bed and grabbed a small flask and took a quick drink of whiskey. As he sat up on his bed, he opened the small drawer and pulled out a picture. It was him and Reggie embracing, with the ultra-luxe in the background. He started to get teary eyed, and imediately placed the picture back in drawer.

He grabbed a pair of semi clean military fatigues and headed upstairs. The sun was just starting to rise in the sky, and the town was quiet. He holstered his pistol, after ensuring it was loaded. He grabbed a bottle of water and a small towel and headed out the diner. He locked up and started a steady jog. He headed south of Salem, past the Witchcraft Museum and avoiding the crater, to avoid the Children. He ran about an hour heading down the old 107. The jog reminded him to ask Tom to look for sneakers for him.

Soon he would be at Finch Farm. He could see the main watchtower in the distance, the one that extended to the broken down highway above it. He arrived at the main gate, and a queue was forming for people to go in. Every visitor had to check in, after all it was just a settlement, but a Minutemen Outpost.

Finch farm marked the nothernmost point of influence in the area. They controlled the farm and the highway overpass above it. The wait for him was but a mere formality, he had gotten to know most of the guards, as he often jogged here on a weekly basis. One of the guards saw Ace, and motioned for him to step forward and the big metal gate was opened. A large wall of mixed material sourrounded most of the farm, it reached the water line, and there spiked metal rail wall stretched the length of the coast, mainly used to stop mirelurks.

Ace passed headed for the market next to the shack owned by the Finch family. They were some of the first to join the revamped Minutemen, and were more than eager to allow their land to become an outpost. Daniel and Jake were arguing, which was pretty common sight, so Ace didnt pay them much mind. He headed over to the stand being run by Abigail, "Well good morning Abby. Listen I'm running low on milk, can you send someone to salem with 3-4 crates."

"Nice t see you bright and early Ace. Why I'll have daniel Head out there as soon as possible. I need him to get some Mirelurk meat from Barney anyhow, plus i had Barney tinker with Abraham's favorite rifle as birthday present." Abigail responded as she threw her arms around him and gave him a friendly hug.

Ace nodded his head, and headed over to their shack. Right next the Finch's shack was a large building. In it were rooms and stalls. Ace's main reason to go there was to take the elevator to the overpass command center. He boarded the elevator along with some minutemen guards, and headed up. The structure was solid, but rickety, if the commonwealth was ever hit by an earthquake, he doubted it would stand, but this area of the country didn't have to worry about that.

He arrived at the center and headed inside. He knocked on a door that read Captain, "Abraham, how's it going this morning?"

Ace stepped inside and saw Abraham by a radio, "Well Ace, I've asked you a milion times to call me Captain... Whatever. Have you heard the recent reports on the radio station? About the assault on Mass bay Medical? Just got word from the Castle we've taken the place. No easy feat, we lost about 10-20 guys and quite a few injured. Can't say the same for the Gunner's. They were caught off guard, and quite a few were killed and many more captured."

"What's going to happen to the captured?" Ace asked as he sat on a chair and put his feet up on Abraham's desk.

Abraham pushed Ace's feet of and shook his head, "Well Preston and the higher ups hate Gunners. I imagine they'll be put on trial. I imagine some will be given option of recruitment. After all most those guys seek room and board in order to stay out of the wastes. Others will probably be hanged, especially the officers. Most of them have committed heinous crimes."

"Tell me Ace, when will Salem join the Minutemen Innitiative? The more settlers join, the stronger our resolve and our mission will be." Abraham says as he began to light up a cigar and took a seat on a couch next to a window that oversaw a great view of the commonwealth.

"look, if it was up to me, I'd say maybe. Barney wants to have everyon in town make such a decision, he doesnt want to make it himself. Listen I got to go. Lots of hungry mouths to feed and many caps to be made." Ace shook Abraham's hand headed for the door. As he made it back down to the ground, a new caravan had arrived.

Luckily for him, it came with the new weekly edition of Publik Occurences. He grabbed a large stack and placed them in a backpack loaned to him by Abigail. He put it on and headed back towards Salem.

Once he arrived to the the outer edge of the town, he could finally see the wall Rook had been working on. It was crude, but it would do. He pulled out the small tin from is pocket and swallowed a pill. He looked at the wall and made some mental notes, and started to pponder what to do about the gate. He walked over to the diner, but the door was unlocked.

He pulled out his pistol and headed inside. He could smell eggs and went over to the counter where he saw a plate of eggs, and a note. He went back over to the door and turned on the lights and flipped door sign to open. He took out the papers form the backpack and placed them on the counter. It looked like inside the paper there was what seemed an addition, a last minute article on the battle of Mass Bay Medical. It had basic info, no mention of casualties but mainly due to fact battle hadn't been over when it printed.

He took out a fork and storted prodding the eggs. He read the note and it was from Brandy. *Crazy girl broke in here. I hope she didnt use my kitchen...I better check she didnt leave anything on.* Ace checked everything, and it looked like she didn't cook it there. His concern was the fact Brandy tended to be accident prone.

He ate the eggs, and they weren't half bad. Oddly enough they were slightly burnt at the edges. *Odd, it's not easy to burn eggs.* At least he knew she had eggs, and could use some for his cooking. Ace turned the juke box on and put in on Diamond City radio. he went over to the old coffee pot and started to brew some coffee. The smell of coffee tended to lure people in.

Rick Noel - Vault 88
"I'm telling you, one of our rifles might make you stand out far too much among surface-dwellers. Here take one of the modified Combat Rifles. It has a scope and uses what they call .308 bullets. " a man dressed is a freshly laundered white lab coat told Rick.

Rick nodded, "But can I at least take one of our pistols? I'll feel lost without it...I must admit, this is quite exciting. It's one thing to always review case files, but another to get to explore above."

"Don't get too excited. The top is a shit hole. And even this vault will never compare to what once was our institute."

"Well I know that. But we are doing the best we can. At least we have running purified water, generators are now online so it's no longer dark, and the greenhouse is growing fresh food. All we have to do is maintain the secrecy." Rick replied as he put on a pair of black jeans and a white shirt over his Kevlar vest. He then put on a olive green jacket and smiled.

"Just watch out kid, the top is not as friendly or easy going as you imagine. But this is your choice. Just make sure to check in constantly. More importantly if someone sees pistol just tell them you got it from Cricket. Oh, if you for some reason happen to see someone you recognize watch what you say. Do not want to put them." The man handed Rick a backpack with supplies.

"Don't you worry, I will take care of myself." Rick smiled and walked through the door. He found himself in a corridor leading to the vault door. Along the corridor were various cameras and turrets. The cameras ran bio-metric scan on him, and soon was given a green light to proceed.

Ever since the Devil had destroyed the institute, new measures were taken up to prevent a future incident. He arrived to vault gate, generation 2 synths guarded the entrance. As he entered the room he extended his arm out. They scanned it and and they proceeded to open the gate.

He was excited, this was his first venture to the surface. Well first since the great exodus. As the vault door opened he stepped through, the outside of the vault was protected by various cameras, scanners and turrets. He could feel the turret and cameras follow him as he walked. He reacts a set of double doors that required a code. He entered his code and it swiftly unlocked and opened.

From here he walked down another dimly lit hallway. This was under the quarry. What made room special were the vents. As other rooms, this one had cameras and scanners. If an unknown was detected. The top vents would open up , flooding the room with radioactive water from quarry. Water would drown anything in there, and after 10 minutes, bottom vents would open up draining the water and leaving the remains to be cleaned up and scrubbed by gen 1 cleaning synths.

He was at end of hall and entered his code again, to open this set of double doors. Once he stepped through they swiftly closed. He was now inside what looked like a shack. A man sitting on a corner nodded as Rick walked by. One of the top side guards.

A select few guards posed as settlers after the raiders were taken care of. This allowed full control of who entered and exited the vault. This vault was not going to suffer same fate as the Institute.

Brother Quaid – Lighthouse

"I assure you, brother," he began, "We are all too familiar with such things. Fear and desperation has a way of pushing even normal men and women into doing terrible things, and we must always be vigilant lest we become their prey." The Inquisitor paused for a second, then stood up. "I thank you, brother, for enlightening me of the challenges your congregation faces. This is all I require from you at this moment." And without another word the Inquisitor turned and exited. Quaid held his position in the chair for a moment before rising quickly and throwing it across the small room. He swore and grabbed his gamma pistol and headed for the door before stopping and turning. Walking back across the room, he came to the small metal table and hunched over it. He pulled a scrap of paper from the pile and laid it out as flat as he could. Quaid wrote quickly, his poor handwriting resembling more the scratches from a rad-chicken than legible English. Once finished, he folded the paper and moved over to a rusted, old filing cabinet in the corner of the room. He dug through the top drawer until he found an amber hunk of wax and a crude construction consisting of a metal button pressed into an aging knife handle. Taking the wax and seal back to the table, Quid melted the wax over the flame of the lantern and let the melted wax run onto the folded paper before pressing the seal into the puddle and holding it as it dried. Taking the paper, he moved towards the exit before stopping and walking back towards the closet, he glanced at the shoes inside then closed the door with a slam. Exiting the lighthouse Quaid avoided the Inquisitor and made his way to a group of devotees huddled around a fire pit.

“Brother Shelby,” a thin man with straight dark hair raised his head, Quaid handed him the paper, “I have message that must be run to County Crossing before the day is out.” There was the peal of thunder and greenish lightning arced in the distance. Shelby looked at Quaid and then the sky, then back at Quaid. The storm would be upon them within the hour, Quaid frowned “Hurry or you’ll be caught in it.” Shelby nodded and made ready his things for leaving. Quaid made his way back to the Lighthouse, there was the crash of thunder again, and Quaid hoped this storm was not a premonition of things to come.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Brother Abraham – Crater House

The storm had almost arrived as Abraham and Ada and Reed arrived in Crater House. The Children were preparing for the coming storm, despite the fact that it brought Atom’s Glow within its winds, the Children were well aware of the dangers of its high speed winds and deadly surges of radiation.

“Make sure the congregation is ready and inside,” Ada and Reed nodded at his command and moved out. Abraham made his way to his personal shack, a few other Children moved past him, heading for their own shelters. One of them, an actual child of no more than twelve winters and clutching a sheet of paper, crashed into him. The boy stood up quickly, made eye contact with Abraham briefly before turning and fleeing in obvious fear. Abraham half chuckled before continuing his way to his shack. It was near the center of the crater and was essentially a lean-to built next to the central Chapel. His door was ajar and he stepped in and closed and locked the door behind him. Abraham scanned his chamber before he made his way toward the chair that laid by the back porthole. Easing himself into the chair, Abraham reached toward his unfinished sermon on makeshift table in front of him. His hands met solid wood instead of paper however, and he swiped back and forth before looking down on the ground. The floor was bare save from clods of dirt tracked in by himself and Brother Reed. Abraham stood and moved towards his chest but stopped when he found the padlock on it still shut. He leaned back on his heels as he squatted thinking back to before he departed for the Lighthouse. He had not unlocked his chest and put it within, he had sworn he had left it on his table by his chair, where Brother Reed had found him.

Abraham stood and made his way to his porthole, he slid the metal covering opening and looked out toward the approaching storm. He thought of the Inquisitor and Quaid and the dangers posed by both of them. Abraham knew he must be careful in his movements and choose his words carefully. If he revealed too much, too early, or at the wrong time, he risked it all. The thunder pealed and lightning illuminated the sky. It seemed a strong premonition for the trouble ahead.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Louis Pacion - County Crossing

Louis slammed his hand down hard on the table, keeping the pile of cards from being blown away. He put his own in his mouth and used his free hand to retrieve a rock from the ground, he placed it on the pile of cards and took his own cards and fanned them between his hands. A king of spades and an eight of hearts, for a total of eighteen, Louis peeked at the two other men at the table, trying to decipher if they were any closer to twenty one then he was.

“Fucking hell Louis the storm will be here any minute now,” said a gruff, balding man sitting across the table from Louis, the butt of a hand rolled cigarette clenched tight between his teeth.

“Then that gives you another minute to win your caps back, you should be happy.”

“Yeah I’m overjoyed,”

“Shut up and show what you got already, I wanna get the fuck out of here.” Barked the third man, he had scarred brown skin and was missing more than a few teeth. The storm was now crossing over the river from the Boston ruins, lightning occasionally brightening the green haze.

“You really that eager to lose the last of your caps?” Louis smiled, he was enjoying seeing the other men stress over the coming storm, it would ensure they made mistakes and that he made off with their caps. There was a moment of tension as they looked at their cards then each other, then back to their cards. Lightning lit the sky and the tension was broken by thunder and the sound of water dropping on to sheet metal.

“Sonofabitch, I’m out.” The balding man spit his cigarette on the ground and then laid his cards flat. A two of clubs, nine of diamonds and five of hearts, sixteen total.

“Me too,” said the other man, laying his cards flat; a 7 of hearts, and nine of clubs, sixteen again. Louis grinned and laid his cards down, the two other men groaned and tossed their cards towards the pile and pushed off from the table and walked towards the common house.

“Take care gentlemen, I’d be happy to play again sometime!” Louis smiled as he scrapped the pool of caps into a pouch and then stuffed the deck of cards into his pockets. The wind was picking up and the debris left on the ground was beginning to be kicked around. Louis moved from the table and made his way towards the common house at the far side of the field of gourds. He moved down the lines of tatos and up the small wooden stairwell to the front door. Trying the handle he found it wouldn’t budge, he tried again hoping the door was just stuck but only confirmed his fear of it being locked.

“Hey open this shit up!” Louis banged on the door with his fist, glancing over his shoulder at the storm. It had crossed the river and was now upon them, there was a great flash of green light immediately followed by a massive crash and sheets of rain began to fall from the sky. Louis banged on the door again, frantic to be let in. The peep-slot of the door was slid open and Louis made eye contact with one of the men he had been playing against. The bald man had a fresh cigarette in his mouth, he took a drag and then exhaled it through the slot and into Louis face.

“Bunks are twenty five caps a night,” Louis narrowed his eyes.

“Fuck off Darius I live here, and I’m not giving you your caps back. Now let me in.”

“Space is filling up fast, there must be a storm blowing in.” The man was nearly laughing at his own scheme and joke. Louis slammed his fist into the door again.

“Let me in!” The man laughed and exhaled another puff of smoke before sliding the slot close. Louis cursed and beat the door again, the rain was soaking through his clothing and he scrambled to find shelter. Running through the field he came to the central generator for the settlement. A large windmill made from old plane turbines affixed to an electrical tower, there was lean-to covering the delicate parts of the generator but was not complete of large enough to house Louis for the storm. Looking around Louis noticed a gap between the base of the generator and the ground. A small hole no more than two feet wide and less that in height. Seeing no other option Louis laid flat on his stomach and wormed his way inside.

Rick Noel - Day Before - Commonwealth

Rick had been advised to head to a place called Atomics Cats Garage. As instructed he avoided the main road that led close to Quincy, as the people that lived there were very hostile and attacked strangers on sight. It was odd being out on the surface, but exhilarating at the same time.

As he approached the garage, Rick was left in awe. He finally got to how cool and amazing power armor looked like. The towering men that walked around in their armors looked so amazing, especially with the paint scheme of black paint with flames

Rick tried asking questions, but he was mostly ignored as he wasn’t “cool” enough for them. He wanted to stay for a while longer, but the barge was about to leave. He paid the bargeman 15 caps, and he agreed to take Rick to The Castle.

The man pointed at other large barges headed for the garage, “Those be retrieval barges. They are still retrieving valuable loot from where that big airship crashed a few years ago. Minutemen send what they find to the Atom Cats and they get it in working shape again. Hell, they even bury any bodies they find, and send the dog tags by courier to the Tin heads in Washington.”

Rick looked closely at barge and it seemed to be carrying what looked like power armors and computer terminals. *These ‘cats’ must be skilled if they can get stuff like that to work again.* Rick sat down on the floor of the barge, leaning against some barrels and looked through the bag. In it was a pair of clothes, ammo boxes and a bag filled with surface-dwellers currency of caps. How these bottle caps are treated as currency, baffled Rick.

These bottle caps he had were from recycled drinks used at the main cafeteria. Facilities created for the bottled drinks produced by the cafeteria. Also, they were produced to provide to agents, one of the evacuees was smart enough to grab one of the cap presses from the institute, and now they were able to make their own. They would make new caps look worn and then provide them to field agents. It made getting supplies easier.

The bare moved at a steady pace across the water. Rick leaned close to the edge and looked at the water. He saw some small fish swimming but for the most part it was slightly murky.

“Hey, watch it kid. You never know when something might jump on. Always have to be careful on the water.” Shouted one of the crew members towards Rick. Rick nodded and sat down by the barrels again, this time with his rifle in hand, just as a precaution.

The ride wasn’t too long, roughly half hour, which was better than the over two hour journey on foot. He disembarked on the docks located outside the fort walls. He craned his heat to see the top of the wall. He was amazed such a structure still existed in the surface world. There was a small gate close to the dock, from the looks it wasn’t the main entrance. On top of the wall there were two guard stations along with some turrets. By the door there was a guard station with a sign that said all visitors must check in.

Rick waited in the small line and when it was his turn he was asked to open his bag for inspection. He had to check in his weapons and was told they’d be available either at this gate or main gate, depending on his choice. He said he’d like to check out at the main gate.

“Kid…What’s this?” One of the guard asked when he handed in his institute pistol.

Rick kept a straight face, “Oh, I got that from Cricket. Had to save quite bit to get it.”

“Damn. Why cant she ever have this when she comes for a visit? I always miss out on good shit like this.” Said the guard as he tagged the weapons with his number, and handed rick a slip to retrieve them. Rick was made to stand with legs apart and another guard checked for weapons and let him through. The inside of the fort was bustling with activity. Most of those present were in uniform, but there were quite a bit of outsiders as well.

You could see along the walls were new concrete had been poured to replace broken down sections. Rick was familiar with it, as a lot of the stone obtained was from the quarry above the vault. Allie Filmore, who had become the new Director, made sure that the settlers above for the most part donate the stone to The Castle as an act of goodwill and to keep them away. In the main courtyard, there was a training ground for new recruits, as well as pens for Brahmin. There was a small barn with a sign that said Caravan housing. That’s where traders and their Brahmins, apparently spent the night.

Another building nearby was taller than the wall by two floors. It was an inn of sorts for visitors. It was meant for non-Minutemen personnel. Rick didn’t enter the inner portion of the fort as access was restricted except to a clinic of sorts. He was warned to be wary of surface doctors or butchers as they were called in the Institute.

He headed up the wall and above were a series of shacks and crops. They very smartly used the available space topside for crops. From atop the wall he had a great view of the Boston skyline. As he stood there someone approached him, “So Son, you signing up to the Minutemen? You get 3 square meals, boarding, a cap allowance, plus you get to know you are making a difference in the Commonwealth.”

Rick looked at the man next to him. He had a tan duster with a typical minuteman hat and carried what looked like to be a musket over his shoulder. “No sir, can’t say I am. I’m headed up north, along the coast. Just waiting for nightfall to make it past the city ruins, visiting some family I have up there.”

“That’s too bad, could always use a new recruit, always a settlement out there that needs our help. I can help you with your trip, in an hour a barge is leaving for Finch Farm. Get on it and you should get there by nightfall. Believe me…you don’t want to be walking into the city tonight.”

The man tipped his hat and walked away. Rick headed down as well, he figured he’d check out the surrounding area while waiting for the barge. He approached the main gate and it was huge, as tall as the wall. It slid on a rail as it opened up. What amazed him even more was the fact there were two gates, one on each side of the wall. There was a small building next to the gate by the Brahmin pit, and it was where weapons were housed for visitors.

As he waited for his guns, a large number of Minutemen were walking through the gate. They were geared up with weapons and packs. They were marching in formation. As soon as he had his weapon he followed behind. The man that asked him about recruitment was standing on a guard post in front of the gate, reviewing the troops. They were marching into the city along the main highway. *I pity whoever they are facing.*

As he walked towards the dock located by the main gate, he asked one of the guards about the man in the tan overcoat, “That is Colonel Garvey, Preston Garvey, he along with the General lead minutemen. Taking this detachment into the city. God help the sonofbitches on the other end.”

Rick watched as they disappeared into the distance. Before he knew it, it was time for the barge to depart. He told them Garvey told him about Finch Farm, so they let him aboard for free. He found a small corner by some crates and sat down and took a nap. It was about a 2-3 hour trip to Finch Farm.

He was woken up by a crew member. Rick groggily made his way onto land and didn’t pay attention to his surroundings. He found a place where he could rent a room for the night, and made his way to the room. He was exhausted.

"Well. That's..."

Summer ran the sleeve of her jacket under her bloodied nose, frowning at the corpse spread out next to her in the dirt.

"...Unfortunate."

Somewhere north of Salem lay approximately 6 bodies, each in various states of disrepair and all but one of them were definitely dead. 4 raiders, one child of atom and a redhead who had managed to prop herself up on her elbows with a hiss of pain and a scowl painted on her lips. This was Summer; or at least whatever was left of her after the ambush where she was quickly knocked unconscious. Her gaze settled grimly on her travelling companion, the child of atom who had fallen next to her and had clearly taken one handful of bullets too many to survive until she woke up. He was a broad-shouldered, irradiated brute of a man with the features that only an inbreed could be burdened with. His weapons and ammo and caps were gone. Summer knew because the first thing she did was redistribute weight onto one of her arms and use the other to try and loot her friend's body. Summer then proceeded to check her own pockets to make sure she had everything on hand and, by some stroke of luck (or perhaps the efforts of her companion) she had managed to retain the important things. Weapon, ammo, money.

Summer knew how to hide things from simpletons because it mainly involved making something that looks vaguely dangerous and adding a few flashing lights on it to show that whatever it is, it could still explode. Make a box out of scrap and use a fusion cell to power a couple of old LED lights, maybe a simple circuit that cuts the flow of electricity and makes said lights flicker ominously and you've got yourself a raider-proof purse. Nobody wants to pick up a machine and hear it rattle and watch those lights flicker on and off. They left the 'bombs' on her and decided to take the safer route which mainly involved stealing literally anything else that could be useful. Frankly, Summer was glad she still had clothes. The lack of boots was going to be an issue.

After a quick physical self-checkup (Diagnosis: Fucked) Summer tried her hand at standing up, then promptly opted to sit for a while longer. The bodies were fresh enough and it didn't look like the bloatflies had caught on to their presence, so Summer assumed that she had been out for a few hours at most. Nevertheless that was a few hours of bleeding and bullet wounds, and also a few hours of being exposed to whatever the wasteland decided to toss at her limp, slumbering body while she was out of it. Summer ran a hand through her hair which was greasy and clumped together with sweat and blood. Summer wiggled her toes and listened to the low whistle of the wind across the commonwealth. She crawled over to the nearest raider, expecting little and finding nothing. Nothing on any of the bodies; picked clean by the scavengers.

Then it occurred to Summer that her bag was gone. Her research notes - gone. All of her equipment gone as well. Just a souped-up laser rifle, a handful of caps, some spare ammo and an impulse to go after those sons of bitches and take back what's hers. That tight-chested familiar feeling of anger bubbled up within her and gave her the strength she needed to stand. She gave the child of atom a couple of nudges with her boot, frowning slightly. "You should've saved the bag," she growled at his body, "All that research on the effects of heavy irradiation's gone to shit because of you."

After those thoughtful parting words, Summer turned towards the vague direction of south and started limping towards Salem.

Summer - Late Morning - Salem Diner

Dive bars were difficult. Dive bars were shady and hostile and usually full of people trying to kill you. From Summer's wealth of past experience, dive bars were arguably more dangerous than the commonwealth itself because they tended to be full of airheaded brutes and conniving sleazebags alike. Nobody wants to walk into a dive bar and show any sign of weakness. Instead, Summer always preferred to stick to the diners, because they operate during broad daylight, they are colourful and attract nice people like families and settlers willing to help out. It was the most logical choice, but perhaps not the best one she could have taken given the circumstances.

Instead of the usual crowd of sleepy morning travellers looking for their full English, a dirty and bloodied woman took a moment to carefully dust off her jacket and trousers before entering the establishment. Her clothes were riddled with holes and blooms of reddish-brown blood. She had a black eye and a broken nose and a stare so cold she could've plunged half the commonwealth into a nuclear winter if she tried hard enough. She didn't try to look friendly or approachable, she just eased herself into one of the booths (laying out her jacket and sitting on it to avoid dirtying up the diner any more than usual) and toyed with one of the menus half-heartedly, not really bothering to read it. She looked like she needed to gather her bearings before she could tackle a difficult task like trying to read a menu.