FRIEDA RICHTER -- Salem Clinic -- Late Morning

Frieda quietly followed the doctor to the back of the church. He appeared physically exhausted and she couldn't help but notice he tensed at the mention of caps for the supplies.

"Look...I can't pay Celeste for the supplies. I don't even have the uh..caps," there was an odd lilt in his voice when he used the word. "But, I need them regardless. The young woman back there needs proper medical treatment to prevent further infection and Eliza..." he pointed upwards, to the second floor, "Is still on the path to recovery. I don't understand what is it with you wastelanders. Everything has a price. Everything has its cost. Every chance is an opportunity to get more money or chems...or..or whatever! And god-forbid we work together communally to actually do something other than live in abject squalor and moral degradation our entire lives! For Pete's sake, there was a woman lying on the floor of the diner dying and people kept on eating their lunch like it was...oh..you know..just a merry ol' average day. Woman just got mugged and nearly shot to death, but hey...just another lovely day in The Commonwealth of Massachusetts right?"

Frieda's eyes widened, her mouth slightly open, a response not immediately available. The doctor took a breath to compose himself, then continued.

"Sorry," He said, calmly, "Didn't uh...didn't mean to get heated there. I'm running off well..no sleep right now and I could just about murder for a decent cup of coffee that isn't made with a 200 year old tin of Slocum Joe's....well not literally of course. Figuratively. I wouldn't you know actually...nevermind. Anyway..."He gave a quick shake of his head and changed the subject, "....I don't exactly know what Celeste wants for the supplies, but it can't be caps. That much I'm certain of."

Frieda looked around and behind her, to ensure they were alone. The brutish man had hung back, or left, but either way his form wasn't visible. She took a small step towards the doctor. "Look, I'm with you, on that point. On all your points. For what it's worth, Celeste doesn't really care about being paid, but if I didn't say something, it would have looked suspicious. I'll handle her." She glanced around, again. "I knew you were...different, somehow, from when I saw you last night at the diner. Familiar, in a way. Your skin texture, your hair. You didn't grow up scraping in the dirt like the rest of these," she swallowed hard, "people. And, neither did I."

She straightened her posture and offered a quick salute. "It's Richter, Frieda Richter, formerly Class Triple A, air division, of the Enclave. Division 59N-39." She gave a small smile, and a nod. "I don't get a military vibe, but you sure as shit aren't surface dweller, either."

Frieda took the same small step back. "I'm...not good with people. I came here to connect with you, not threaten you. I know how important it is to hide in plain sight, in a way. I crashed my Vertibird -- by accident, but it's a boon, of sorts. The Enclave will have found the vehicle totalled and likely assume me dead. I didn't exactly ask for permission to leave, but they won't be chomping at the bit to find out if I survived. I know that from experience."

"I think we should...talk. Later, though, when you're not so busy, or exhausted. There was a trader in town -- two, actually -- and maybe I can see about getting us some real coffee." Her expression softened. "Meantime, let me help you at least prep the linens. I only have very basic field medic training, which extends as far as, 'cover what's bleeding and call for help'." Frieda gently pushed some hair out of her face. "Pass me some scissors, and I'll get to work. Just going to step out for a smoke."

Rick Noel - Running
Rick was running south for a bit, and then started to head to the northeast. He didn’t want to lead the cultist if they were still chasing him towards Salem. He finally reached the old Museum of Witchcraft. He leaned over, placing his hand on his knees as he caught his breath. He wasn’t out of shape or anything but running on a treadmill was far different from running on uneven ground.

He started to walk towards the town, passing some dilapidated and ruined building located close to the museum. It felt odd, mostly because of the weird sounds that came from the museum every so often. He walked forward but kept turning his head to look back every so often, being wary of whatever lay inside museum, and for anyone that may be chasing him.

As he approached the town he could see the some buildings and the resemblance of a town. He began to walk faster, but was surprised to come upon a woman riding a strange beast. He stood there dumbfounded, he had read of horses on his books, but never imagined he’d see one. He thought they were extinct, but here was one creature. He made a mental note to procure a blood sample and send it via courier to the Vault, the biology department would go gaga with the specimen.

He waved his arms to catch the woman’s attention. She was riding outside of the town so she deserved to be warned. She halted the creature by him, and it look bigger than he ever thought possible. His hand trembled and he ran his hand close to its face, feeling the hairs and warmth of the creature. It truly was a majestic creature, how it had managed to survive, was beyond him.

He shook his head remembering why he had stopped her. He pointed west, “You have to be careful out here. I just came from some place called Dunwich Borers. Some creepy stuff happening over there, hooded men and women chanting before some stone monolith. Also they were digging further down... They chased me when they saw me, I think I gave them the slip, but I’d be careful if I were you. They definitely did not seem friendly… and the presen-…yeah not friendly.”

He wanted to mention the weird presence in the place, what had called him there, but his logical mind found such a notion ridiculous. He didn’t want to come across as fool to this strange. He fixed the straps on his backpack, “Sorry, for the rudeness. My name is Rick, Rick Noel… But please believe me, stay away from that area.”

Brandy just shied away a little bit, letting the Archie and Celeste speak. The one man who introduced himself she remembered from the diner last night. During a brief pause Brandy waved at him, “Hi Adam, I'm Brandy, not sure if I introduced myself last night, I had a little beer buzz.” She listened as the bigger man said Dr. Arthur was in need of supplies, she put a finger over her mouth in thought. She didn't have much, and from what she remembered the Dr. looked pretty worn out in the diner.

Frieda jumped in and offered to negotiate on Celeste's behalf with Dr. Arthur, "Well, all right!" Freida looked at Brandy and smiled. "See you later. Why don't we meet at the diner for some dinner? My treat."

“Oh, that sounds good. I'll see you later then.” It was quiet for a brief second, so Brandy took the opportunity to ask a quick question, “I noticed a few things outside, Celeste, can I look at the wheelchairs that I saw? Maybe I can clean and fix them up for the doctor.”

Archie floated near Brandy, she reached out and touched his metal body and studied him as he spoke, “Miss Brandy, I took the liberty of disposing the rubbish outside. There are many items that could potentially be repurposed. Except, well...the skeletons of course. Perhaps manager Celeste would allow you, and Mr. Wilford to peruse through the rubbish if you so choose.” Celeste gave a nod of approval.

“Great, thank you so much. If I'm lucky I will find more wood to fix up stuff around town. I'm going to go and have a look and see if I can find some stuff.” Brandy walked out into the Salem sun, she saw Frieda and the large man heading to the clinic. She dug through the edges of the pile, she found three wheelchairs, one seemed ok and just needed a cleaning. The second one needed a front wheel, and the thirds was missing the seat, awesome, that one can be for spare parts. She then picked up a bed pan and sat it aside.

She took the operational wheelchair and carefully stacked the others on to it after folding them up, but it was still a tipsy load. It didn't take long for her to work up a little sweat. The road was still in disrepair and she had to keep catching the two stacked chairs from falling.

“G’morning kiddo,” Waylon startled her as she pushed and pulled the chairs by S&W, “ Need a hand?”

Brandy pushed some hair aside, “Sure, just taking these home to clean them up and fix one of the broken ones for Dr. Arthur.”

“Yeah, after Eliza got brought in last night, I bet Shelby could use one to push her around.” He noticed Brandy's inquisitive look, “Shelby is at the clinic, her girlfriend was carried in, she was in bad shape.”

“OH NO ,” Brandy gasped, “I guess it's a good thing Celeste let me have these chairs then. I'm going to give Dr. Arthur some moonshine and glue too. The shine to clean the wounds, the glue can be used instead of stitches in smaller cuts.”

Waylon nodded, “Good idea, let's get your projects home then. I was heading to the diner to grab some grub.”

They arrived at Brandy's place, “Thanks Waylon, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem, if ya need a hand later give me a holler.”

“Alright, see you later,” Brandy fetched her tools and some Abraxo cleaner then a pail of water. She cleaned the wheelchairs up, some spots required some serious scrubbing. She took the wheel off the parts chair and installed it on the second, now good chair. She went inside and grabbed her oil can and lubed up all the bearings and bushings then pushed the two chairs around to make sure they worked well. Satisfied with her handy work, she went to her basement and brought up two mason jars of moonshine, four towels, and three wash clothes. She loaded them into a small crate and went back for two bottles of glue and two larger crates. She wheeled one chair to the clinic and returned home and brought the second chair. She walked inside and saw the large man standing there, the woman from the diner earlier was laying on a bed.

Brandy quietly looked around for the doctor, she didn't see him, nor did she just want to go looking for Shelby without asking him first. She pushed one wheelchair somewhat close to the injured woman on the first floor, then pushed the second one up in front of the pulpit. She took one large crate and placed it at the foot of the bed the woman was laying on, “For you to put your things in,” she whispered and smiled. She took the second large crate and sat it next to the wheelchair by the pulpit, neatly stacking the crate with supplies and the clean bedpan on top. She picked up a Bible and sat in an old, weathered pew and read while waiting quietly for Dr. Arthur.

Royce waited for the designated woman to collect the requested supplies before idly following her out of the inn and towards the clinic. The woman introduced herself as Frieda, to which he replied with a simple “Royce”.

Summer propped herself up on one elbow to watch the Doctor rant about the greed of the wastelanders. “Oh...a vault-dweller,” she murmured with intrigue. She couldn’t help but feel a little bit sorry for Arthur as he dismissed Steve and went back to tending Summer’s injuries. “Your heart’s in the right place but I’m afraid the Commonwealth’s gonna fix that soon enough,” she rasped. Her gaze was unfocused and she seemed quite interested in twitching her fingers, focusing intently on them instead of the fussing that Arthur was doing to keep her comfortable. “Nevertheless, you at least have the common sense not to accept chems from someone who you don’t know. I think you’ll go far in life - at least, in your life on the surface.” She was rambling, most of it was conversational and coherent but she still slurred her speech from time to time. Summer fell silent after that, aside from the odd question of whether or not ‘The Big Guy’ was going to come back with the supplies.

Both Royce and Frieda entered the Clinic. Frieda began to eagerly converse with the Doctor, eventually moving towards the back of the church, Royce himself didn’t interfere with their conversation and instead averted his attention to the now lonesome woman resting on the makeshift bedding. He approached the woman asking: “Are you dying?” inquiring about how she was feeling.

Summer tilted her head to the side and stared Royce down. “Feels like it - but I’ll live,” she groaned wearily. “They’re mostly surface wounds and the ones that matter have been dealt with, I’m just-...trying to remain conscious until I know I’m not going to die of an infection in my sleep. You brought the antiseptic, right?”

“Yes. The doctor is discussing payment right now.” Royce paused, shooting a brief glance around the empty first floor and then over summer. “The five men outside Salem are your doing?” he wondered, by now kneeling beside her as they carried on their conversation.

Summer sighed, nodding. “Four, technically. Looted me for everything I had then left me for dead. Typical…” she spoke of it with such nonchalance that it felt like she was talking about a chipped nail instead of a serial killing. Then again, that might have been due to the sorry state she was in; it didn’t look like Summer was thinking straight anymore. “The worst part, the worst part….” she hummed thoughtfully, “is that research. My kit. All the shit I was working on earlier and they took it. Motherfuckers don’t even know how to read.” Whatever it was that Summer had lost irritated her to the point of reinvigoration. She practically snarled the last sentence and clenched her fists. Then she stared at Royce thoughtfully. “Wanna make some caps?”

Royce listened silently, the mention of research barely piquing his interest. He wasn’t exactly an expert when it came to technology of any form, let alone scientific research. After the brief pause the woman took to gather her bearings, and the mention of caps, it was more the sense of purpose that her offer entailed which interested him. With his lips still pursed, Royce eventually spoke: “You have no caps, you were robbed.”

Summer grinned mischievously. “I said I was robbed - I didn’t say WHAT they took. That being said, I can’t offer up much...just the opportunity to bash some skulls in and also dig into whatever else those chemheads have hoarded over the past few weeks. After all, it’s not as if I’m going to be in there demanding my share of the loot.” she gestured down to herself folornly, seeming much more awake than earlier. In fact, she even lifted herself up a little to lower her voice with the severity of someone who’s been double-crossed many times before. “But I want my fucking research. As much of it as possible. Big green dufflebag, full of machinery and notes. Bring that back to me and you can keep whatever else you find in there, but if I don’t get that fucking bag then don’t bother coming back at all.”

Royce could feel her anger and frustration seeping into her words. He replied, almost too eagerly: “Very well. I will find your research and bring it back.”

Summer smiled - all of that energy went into relief and she sank back onto her back again, shutting her eyes. “One more thing,” she spoke but it was barely more than a whisper. “Before you go, make sure those wounds are disinfected for me, will you? It doesn’t help to...to have an employer be dead before…” her voice trailed off meekly as she went limp, falling unconscious at long last.

Adam 'Trails' Wilford- Sandy Cove Inn

"O-oh! No, not at all!" Celeste said, her cheeks blushing deep as apples. "Too bad you weren't here yesterday, Archie and I spent most of the day picking up and tossing out the junk, including the broken robots. Most of it just got piled up behind the building. But, you're welcome to take a look around, and I'm sure I can toss up something edible for you without a problem. I've already made some coffee, if you'd like?" Adam gave a short exhale of a laugh and smiled as he ran a hand through his grey and brown beard, "No thanks, Ma'am. I put business over relaxing. I'll be 'round back and show you what I'd like." He turned to head out back, then realizing it might seem too rude to just leave in such a 'matter-of-fact' way and turned, smiling, "Then we'll talk about that coffee." and went out side to look out back.

Adam found an old army chest by the collection of stuff and fell in love, it'd be perfect for stowing stuff. Digging around he found a few odds and ends. What struck him was a small odd angle. Lifting it from the pile, there was an old American Flag. He frowned and wiped dirt off the glass, giving it a gentle place in the old chest as a priest would a holy relic. He looked around further and found a picture of a woman in uniform. Adam's mouth quietly dropped, putting two and two together. The flag, the chest, this woman. These were her things. She served the Old World, served America. He brought it into the sunlight and put it into his chest and saluted the box, honoring the unknown woman in the picture. He sighed a heavy hearted sigh as he always did at finding Pre-War relics like those, but looked back into the pile and found a bunch of flower patterned sheets. that didn't look too worn out. After finding a few small odds and ends and a few knick knacks for the shed, he brought the chest around front. "Miss Celeste! I got stuff here outside." He waited for her to show up as he wiped a little sweat off his brow, then let her inspect the box. "I figure the box is worth about 100 caps at most, but I'll throw in about 115 for good measure. Most of this stuff is junk, so it's not worth much in general, but I want it, so I'm always willing to pay a little extra to get the things I want."

Rook had spent some time resting, he happily drank the water that was provided to him by Adam. Rook sat in his shack for a few hours to let everything recover. Even he got tired, and it was something that he was always happy to feel. Being able to work hard to help aid the town was something that he wanted to do. Standing up, he walked to shore edge. There was a number of things he wanted to do now.

Grabbing the tool box he had found some years ago, he headed out. He walked to the barge that was on the coast. He spent some time walking onto it, being careful and looking at how it was set on the sand. He grabbed the shovel that he carried with him, working the sand off the edge of it and then walking to the front of the barge. Setting down the tool box, he opened it up and popped his neck as he pulled out the hack saw.

“Ok boat... We are going to break away from other boat. We are going to go down the shore. We need to get crates to help build wall.” He said to the steel cables, starting to saw them slowly, putting scoring marks on them. With a nod, he would go back to the tool box, pulling out the torch.

When he cut through the cables, he used the torch to weld the other cables to this one. It didn't take too long with this one. He was glad. The torch was nearly empty by the time he was done. He would need to get another one before too long. Still, it did it's job. He walked back to his shack, grabbing his bracers and chest armor. It took a moment to get it on, and then he went back to the barge. If no one made the attempt to help him, it would take a while, between the digging out of the sand, and pushing it a bit more off the shore, then working to drag it in the surf and edge of the water to the old boat port just past his shack.

Pulling the barge to shore, he walked to a large tree and tie it down so it didn't float off. That would help. A lot. He walked back onto the barge, pulling it hard to get it wedged slightly into sand. Pulling out his lock pick, Rook moved to the first container. He looked to the lock pick and lifted it up some. It was still in good shape. Wonderful. Grabbing it with both hands, Rook lifted it high and smashed down with the heavy metal hammer. Lock pick indeed.

It took two hits to break off the ancient lock upon the first crate. Opening the crate, he would look inside of it. Within was scrap steel, like it was headed to a scrap yard to be broken down. Wonderful! That would do well for the wall. Moving to the next one, he would repeat the process of breaking the lock. Inside this one was something he didn't expect. Tools filled this one, like it was one that was going to go to a store from before the bombs.

The next crate was empty, that was... Oddly helpful. And the final one had more scrap steel. This was interesting. He smiled a bit as he looked over everything. Now the trick was get others down here to help. For now, he would start by working to haul the steel up the way, towards the second road entrance. This was going to be where another gate was going to need to be set up. He looked at the old truck and then pondered for a moment. Well, now was as good as any time. Setting down the steel, he would walk into the large building right there, the Sandy Cove Inn as it had been renamed.

“Hello?” Rook called as he walked in.

Dr. Arthur West - Salem Church

There was silence for a few seconds as the woman looked around suspiciously, and Arthur shifted his feet uncomfortably, not entirely sure what to do, or if perhaps he'd said something that might have offended the woman. For all he knew, she had a knife hidden somewhere and was about to use it. When she took a step closer to him, Arthur gave an audible nervous gulp.

"Look, I'm with you, on that point," She began, "On all your points. For what it's worth, Celeste doesn't really care about being paid, but if I didn't say something, it would have looked suspicious. I'll handle her."

"What? Really?" Arthur asked, flabbergasted, "Well I suppose that makes sense. But then why..."

The woman spoke up again, "I knew you were...different, somehow, from when I saw you last night at the diner. Familiar, in a way. Your skin texture, your hair. You didn't grow up scraping in the dirt like the rest of these," she swallowed hard, "people. And, neither did I."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. Now she'd really piqued his curiosity,

"....What are you saying? Who are you?"

She straightened her posture and offered a quick salute. "It's Richter, Frieda Richter, formerly Class Triple A, air division, of the Enclave. Division 59N-39." She gave a small smile, and a nod. "I don't get a military vibe, but you sure as shit aren't surface dweller, either."

"The...the Enclave?"

Arthur paused in thought. The name was familiar. Where had he heard it before? It took a few seconds for his fatigued brain to regurgitate the memory and all of a sudden he realized quite clearly where he'd read about 'The Enclave'. When he'd been working on the FEV Lab, the SRB had provided a dossier for him to examine containing some of the sordid history of the virus, and their name had come up frequently. They'd originated from somewhere out west and had clashed with factions there, but the information before they'd arrived in the east was scare. What Arthur did remember, however, was that the SRB had been keeping close tabs on their operations in the D.C. area, including their war with The Brotherhood of Steel chapter there. From what they'd gathered, The Enclave was in possession of some sort of strain of The FEV, and had attempted to use it somehow to control the region. How, exactly, wasn't precisely known. Either way, they'd been labeled a 'Class A' hazardous group. Which meant the SRB had been monitoring their movements as closely as possible. They hadn't been heard of for years though.

Frieda took the same small step back. "I'm...not good with people. I came here to connect with you, not threaten you. I know how important it is to hide in plain sight, in a way. I crashed my Vertibird -- by accident, but it's a boon, of sorts. The Enclave will have found the vehicle totaled and likely assume me dead. I didn't exactly ask for permission to leave, but they won't be chomping at the bit to find out if I survived. I know that from experience."

"Ah...I see.." Was all Arthur could muster, his thoughts were too compounded by Frieda's revelation to really come up with a good response. Instead, he simply stood there and awkwardly nodded.

"I think we should...talk. Later, though, when you're not so busy, or exhausted. There was a trader in town -- two, actually -- and maybe I can see about getting us some real coffee. Meantime, let me help you at least prep the linens. I only have very basic field medic training, which extends as far as, 'cover what's bleeding and call for help'. Pass me some scissors, and I'll get to work. Just going to step out for a smoke."

"Uhhh..." Arthur stuttered, before realizing he'd been standing there staring like an idiot, "Right!...right of course." He immediately left the room and beckoned for Frieda to follow him. It took him just a moment to fetch the scissors she'd asked for, "Mindful of the edge. Its sharper than it looks," He said as he handed them off to her, "I should get back to treating Ms. Summer. Thank you again for the supplies Ms. Richter, and for the help. Lord knows I could use it," After a moment's thoughtful pause he added, "..and you're right. I'm not from around here. I'm...from a vault. Vault...uh...vault 88. It's well...its a long story."

With that he opened up the fresh med-kit that Frieda had brought and examined its contents like a kid in a candy story,

"Oh...iodopovidone excellent...ooo and anti-toxin, very useful..chlorhexidine...nice. Antibiotics...bandages...rehydration tablets some multivitamins..and..a 200 year old chocolate bar...whats that doing in her-.....oh....."

Arthur bent back down and began tending to Summer's wounds: now extremely confident he could successfully treat the woman without any issue,

"You'll be right as rain in no time," He said with as much cheer as he could muster as he took a bottle of the anti-septic out of the kit. He then realized she'd been out of it for some time and he had a momentary lapse of panic thinking that perhaps she'd passed out due to blood loss, but it quickly became apparent she was only sleeping. With a shrug, he continued to treat her, hoping to have her fixed up before she awoke.

FRIEDA RICHTER -- Salem Clinic - Very, very late morning to early afternoon

"Uhhh..." Arthur stuttered, seeming to hesitate, "Right!...right of course." He immediately left the room and beckoned for Frieda to follow him. He had hardly glanced around for a moment before he found the scissors she'd asked for, "Mindful of the edge. Its sharper than it looks," He said as he handed them off to her.

"Most things are, it seems," she replied under her breath.

"I should get back to treating Ms. Summer. Thank you again for the supplies Ms. Richter, and for the help. Lord knows I could use it." Frieda nodded and turned to step outside for a cigarette, when he added, "..and you're right. I'm not from around here. I'm...from a vault. Vault...uh...vault 88. It's well...its a long story."

"I'm sure it is," she winked, not meaning to sound as sarcastic as she did, but...well, it was the truth. Who didn't have generations worth of a story in the wasteland? The doctor all but dove onto the first aid kit and began muttering to himself. Frieda shook her head and went outside, around the corner, and stood in the shadow of the church to have her cigarette.

Frieda gazed over the market square, her eyes landing on the plasma scar still burned into the dirt. Something still didn't add up about the doc, and she wasn't totally sure what it was. There had been other, more rare occurrences in her life when the response to the word "Enclave" had been an ignorant "huh, oh, really?" so it wasn't totally out of the ordinary...

...maybe it was the way he repeated the word "vault," as if he were convincing himself, as much as her?

She blew her smoke out of her nostrils, the idea still nagging her, but no answers came. Ah, well. No sense in trying to force it. It'll come to me, eventually, I'm sure. Plus, he didn't flat out decline a later talk. Frieda snuffed out her smoke and returned to the inside of the clinic, twirling the scissors on her finger, and headed back towards the storage room. The space was a little cramped for unfolding an entire bed sheet and shearing it into strips, but she wasn't in a total hurry and made do with the space she had. Frieda began to hum while she worked, finding a twisted pleasure in having simple busywork to do for several hours.

CELESTE BROWN -- Sandy Coves Inn -- late morning to early afternoon

Adam gave a short exhale of a laugh and smiled as he ran a hand through his grey and brown beard, "No thanks, Ma'am. I put business over relaxing. I'll be 'round back and show you what I'd like." He turned to head out back, then and turned, smiling, "Then we'll talk about that coffee." and went out side to look out back.

"My heavens," Celeste sighed, reaching a hand up to her heart.

"Everything all right, Manager Celeste?" asked Archie, drawing up from behind her.

"Everything's fine," she replied dreamily, then looked around to recall that someone was missing. "Where's Brandy?"

"Ahh, Ms. Brooks asked if she could rifle through the refuse out back. Did you not hear her ask?"

Celeste blinked, then swallowed. "I, um, suppose I did not..."

"Well, in any case, I told her she was free to loot through and take what she liked, much as you did for Mr. Wilford."

"...oh! Well, that's great! I hope she doesn't think I was ignoring her."

"But you were ignoring her."

Celeste blushed fiercely once more. "Not on purpose! Anyways -- what have you got around here that would be fit for baking up some scones?"

"I believe there remain some perfectly sealed tins of flour and baking powder in the basement --"

"PERFECT!" Celeste nearly shrieked, tearing off into the kitchen. "I need those, right away, and any shortening, cinnamon and sugar you might have, too." She fiddled with the dials on the oven, eventually coaxing them to life. Celeste pulled up a wooden stepping stool up to the counter island and neatly lined up her ingredients: flour, baking powder, salt, sugar, pumpkin pie spice (for whatever reason, there was a huge stash of it in the basement, but no plain cinnamon), and a block of shortening. An odd, oily, unpleasant smell began to waft from the oven as it heated up. Celeste had begun to combine ingredients for some fresh scones and had thought the oven was just burning off some centuries-old residue, but the smell kept getting worse. "Archie?" she called out towards the hallway.

Dutifully, the robot appeared. "Yes, manager?"

"Can you check what is making that terrible smell in the oven? I've got my hands full, here."

"Is there an odd smell? My olfactory sensors must be damaged, or acting up. Anyways, of course I'll investigate." Archie opened up the oven to reveal a partially-decayed radroach had begun to roast in the oven. "Oh...oh, dear."

Celeste immediately covered her nose and mouth with both hands. "Oh, my god! Archie! Get it out, right now!!"

"Absolutely, right away." The robot glided across the kitchen, opened up a high cupboard, retrieved an ancient roasting pan, then returned to the oven to pull out the rack and dispose of the radroach. It slid into the roasting pan, making a sound that was half crunch, half splat.

"C-can you scrub off any guts, too, Archie? Please? And quickly, before the whole place begins to reek."

"I will work as quickly as possible." Archie pulled out his small blowtorch and charred any of the roach remains on the shelf, turning them into so much dust. The robot then rose with the roasting pan, left through the front door, and returned several moments later.

"Did you --"

"Tossed the whole lot into the sea, yes." For a robot, it sounded disturbed by what it just had to do.

Celeste sniffed and wiped her nose, smearing some flour onto her face. "Well, that's...great. Thank you, Archie."

Within twenty minutes, Celeste had rolled, cut, and placed her scones into the oven. Approximately twenty minutes after that, she pulled them carefully out of the oven and placed them onto the stove to cool. She leaned over and took a deep inhale of the spicy, sweet aroma. "That should take care of any rotten radroach stink, I think!" she declared, feeling satisfied.

"Miss Celeste! I got stuff here outside," Adam called from the front.

"Be right out!" she replied, dusting her hands on a ratty looking dishtowel, before exiting through the front door. She saw Adam standing there with an old pre-war chest. "Oh, I remember that from yesterday!" She followed his gesture and lifted the lid, carefully rifling through its contents. An old photo, other assorted memorabilia lay within.

"I figure the box is worth about 100 caps at most, but I'll throw in about 115 for good measure. Most of this stuff is junk, so it's not worth much in general, but I want it, so I'm always willing to pay a little extra to get the things I want."

"Golly! That's...quite generous," Celeste gushed. "Thank you! Please, why don't we settle up inside, hmm? I made some scones and believe I owe you a coffee." She held the door open for him. "I'd love to hear more about what's so special about that stuff. I've met a few folks in my life who were into pre-war things but I don't think I've ever met a collector so...passionate."

She was laying it on a little thickly, but she didn't care. She was just glad to have his attention for a few moments. Celeste led Adam to the hallway and gestured towards the dining hall, where a setting had been placed upon one of the repaired tables. "Now, you just sit right there and let me get you one of these warm scones and some coffee!" she grinned. As she entered the kitchen, the front door closed and she heard a voice call out "hello?"

"Aw, geez. Archie?" Celeste cried once more, hoping the robot could take care of the front desk so she could go back to chatting with Adam, but to her surprise, the robot didn't respond. "Must be out of hearing range," she muttered. She sighed, straightened her dress and posture, then stepped out to the front desk.

"Hello! Can I help yo-ooo-oooou're a super mutant," she rambled upon the sight of Rook. Recognition crashed into her like a sack of potatoes. "You're Brandy's friend. From the diner. I. Yes. Ahem." She attempted to compose herself and continued to ramble. "How can I help you?"

((OOC: Just to give you more to work with, Skrt, I wrote about the return of Celeste to the room lightly to give you more ability to interact with the scene in the way you'd expect Celeste to.))

Adam 'Trails' Wilford- Sandy Coves

Adam ran a hand through his hair as Celese seemed taken aback by his offer, "Golly! That's...quite generous. Thank you! Please, why don't we settle up inside, hmm? I made some scones and believe I owe you a coffee." She held the door open for him and he stepped inside. "I'd love to hear more about what's so special about that stuff. I've met a few folks in my life who were into pre-war things but I don't think I've ever met a collector so...passionate." Adam felt a knot in his stomach, disdain knowing the situation unfolding and knew how he'd have to end it just like all the other time. Celeste had led him into a decently sized dining hall to one of the smaller tables and offered him a seat. Celeste didn't sit yet, instead she'd said "Now, you just sit right there and let me get you one of these warm scones and some coffee!" and gave a wide grin. But when she didn't come back quickly yet, he pulled out a photograph he seldom dared to ever acknowledge existed or risk falling into a day or two of deep sadness, but he knew today wouldn't be one of those days. He took in a deep breath and exhaled, unfurling the old picture he kept in a special film roll just for it. At once his mood sank as his mind gushed with a wild river of memories as the faded photo showed a beardless Adam, a woman in faded Pre-War clothes and a bundled child. He didn't need the photograph to be colored to remember her beautiful dark skin or the perfume she wore. The happy times or the fights. He'd heard Celeste coming back and didn't bother hiding it, he'd had enough experience in this situation now to learn proof helped.

When Celeste returned, he nodded, "Miss Celeste." He waved a hand to the chair across from him. "Ma'am, I need to be upfront. I...I think I know where this is heading and....I can't let it get there." He looked down at the scones, but just the sight of food was only making him feel sicker so he didn't touch them. "You ever heard the phrase 'It ain't you, it's me?' Well. It's sincere in this case.", he handed Celeste his faded picture. "That...", he stopped himself, he knew he had to acknowledge everything she was, "...she was my wife. We'd met in a situation a lot like this one. It was a ruined town in the Pre-War region of West Virginia. She was from one of them Vaults and I was still young enough to flirt like a Yao Guai in mating season. She had the most lovely ebony skin and a nice figure in her Vault Suit. She thought I was handsome," he smirked a sad and somewhat embarrassed smirk, "so she asked me to coffee in the town diner. Well, we spent five years together in that town, married by a wandering priest and everything." He fought with himself, as he always did when he needed to confront the worst parts of his life, to let out the last part. "Well, her being from a Vault, she didn't have the immune system to deal with all the problems of the Wasteland, so, she ended up getting cancer and passed away not long after, it was voracious. When she died, I fell into a black hole."

Adam continued to look at the back of the picture, "I...I'm not proud of myself for this, but I put my son up for adoption and took back to the road. I hurt to think of what I did to Jack, but it was for his own good. I'd just lost my wife and every time I looked at him, I saw her. I was unfit to be a father back then in the state I was in after Ellia's death. I didn't abandon him, I wanted him to have a good life and I wanted to run back to what I did best, wandering." He looked down at the cup of coffee, slowly ceasing to steam as it cooled, "I even left a letter for him when he was old enough to read with his adoptive family. A kid shouldn't spend his whole life thinking he wasn't wanted. I left him behind because that town wasn't much, but it was rural and away from any real faction fighting. Walled and safe. This life isn't for good men. Wandering I mean. I've killed my share of men just defending myself and even that feels like a tear in my soul. Twenty-three men dead so I can live. I keep a mental count of every life I take, not with pride, but with remorse. I didn't want Jack to have my life, he deserved better." Adam stood up, a quiet hand asking for his picture back. "I've never been with a woman since. Not as some sort of penance, but I never wanted to let another woman in my heart like that, to risk losing them like that again." He rolled the picture into its film case and tucked it in an inner jacket pocket. He bent in and gave her a slow and gentle kiss on the cheek, "If I stay in town a while and we spend a little more time together, maybe I'll finally get over my wife's death." Adam felt bad he didn't touch her food, so he grabbed the coffee. He chugged it like a young man does a beer and nearly gagged. "I....I shoulda.....ugh....drank it hot...."

After recovering from that moment of unflatteringness, Adam chuckled at himself for being such a goof and breaking the clouds of despair he'd had hanging around him. He looked back and smiled, "Goodbye....Celeste.", dropping the formality he used to keep people at a distance. "Oh right!" He threw a small pouch to Celeste and went out front to get his chest and drag it home. Inside it was a bag of 165 caps and a note, the note reading '115 for the goods. 50 for being the worst. first date. ever. Come by my place on the coast. Look for the seaside shed with the big white boat and the Brahmin, I'll treat you to the better one you deserved'.

After helping Brandy get the old wheelchairs back to her house, Waylon turned to head over to the diner. He stopped when he saw the new sign and read it, he laughed and shook his head, “Just put it right out there Steve.” He continued to the diner and walked in, he saw a young girl carrying a plate of food to another new face sitting in a booth away from everybody else. He sat down on a stool at the counter, it was hard not to notice the man sitting there, he looked like someone had trampled his heart. Waylon looked over at the man, “G’mornin’ “

She cute new girl walked over, “I'm Betty, I'll be your waitress today, what’ll it'll be?” she tapped her pencil on the order pad, “C’mon, I ain't got all day.”

Waylon leaned back and raised his right brow, “A lil spicey?” je glanced at the woman in the booth them he also noticed an woman sitting who looked like she had seen much more than he had, “Alright missy, let me get eight crabby patties, and I'll pay the older woman's tab sitting over there.”

“Name's Betty old man,” Betty snapped as she wrote down his order, “Damn, you a closet fat boy or what?”

“Did I say that order was to go? This old man has a friend to feed and her girlfriend.”

“Yeah… sure ya do,” she went and placed the order ticket above the the back counter for Ace.

“Hey Ace, where'd you get her? You know if she talks like that to Shelby you may have a fight on your hands.” Waylon looked at Betty, “You may want to get a second set of extra hands just in case.”

Betty brushed him off and wiped down the empty booths. Waylon looked at the guy sitting at the counter, he clapped him on the shoulder, “Shit’ll get better bud.”

Betty came over with his order and shoved it in front of him, “That'll be…”

Waylon held up his hand, “I already know Bossy Britches,” he pulled out the caps from his pocket and slid them to Betty, then he dropped ten caps in her other hand, “Here's a tip chick, find yourself a better attitude, I wasn't an asshole, but I definitely can be.”

Enjoying just being able to be next to Eliza, Shelby noticed that she was far more responsive as the morning progressed. She was just about to give Eliza a kiss when the door opened and in walked Steve, “Sorry to interrupt” he said as he walked into the room and over to Eliza’s bed “I just wanted to see how you were doing, you lost a lot of blood last night. Oh and here I got you this.” Steve added on as he took out a small one-eyed teddy bear and gently handed it to Eliza.

“Thank you. This means a lot. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me so far, but I really just need to rest.” Eliza gave Steve a struggled, but warm smile. “Shelby? I really hate to bother you again with this, but can you please help me get cleaned up? I can’t get comfortable like this.”

Shelby looked at the bear then to Steve, “Sorry sweetie, she's taken,” she rubbed Eliza's shoulder, “But, I want to say thank you again for getting her here to see the Doc, I owe you one.”

Steve closed the door as he left, Shelby looked at Eliza, “OK Hun,” she got up and walked over to a table where two bowls of water sat. One was dyed red from Eliza's blood, the other was still clean and there were still a couple of clean rags sitting next to the bowl. She brought it over and sat the bowl on the chair and pulled it next to the bed. Carefully Shelby removed Eliza's panties, “Oh sweetie, when we get home I'll trim you up a little,” she grinned and raised her brow, “Don't worry, even though your dirty and hurt, you're still all I want.” Shelby dipped a cloth in the water and put a little bit of soap on it then started gently cleaning off Eliza's face. She rinsed it off then washed her neck, water trickled down to Eliza's chest, Shelby paused as she watched the water find refuge between her breasts. She snapped out of it, being careful not to get the bandages wet Shelby washed her chest, very slowly. She took a deep breath, she leaned down and kissed Eliza passionately, her hand on her left breast. She unwillingly pulled away, “I've been waiting so long to do that, I couldn't help it.”

Shelby pushed her legs together and shifted herself, she looked down at Eliza's long legs, she caught herself daydreaming of when Eliza would be healed and they were able to share each other. Ever so carefully Shelby lifted Eliza's injured leg and cleaned it off, sitting it back down and working her way up, which was also working herself up in the process. She managed to get her right leg cleaned up after she gently massaged in between. Shelby paused and fanned herself, “Let me slide you up so I can wash your hair Hun.”

Shelby took a towel and wrapped Eliza's hair up, then wrapped another around her torso and covered her with the sheet. Just as Shelby pulled the towel up to Eliza's waist someone knocked at the door. “Yeah?” Shelby was a little short.

“Sorry attitude, I figured you might be hungry, I brought you two some Mirelurk cakes from Ace’s,” Waylon gave a fake snarl to Shelby who stuck her tongue out. “Hey, Brandy fixed up a couple of wheelchairs.”

“What? Really?” Shelby looked at Eliza, “Now I can take you to my dungeon…” she laughed and winked, “I mean home. Are you up to it Hun?”

A light knock came at the door, “Hey,” Brandy whispered, “Can I come in?”

Shelby rolled her eyes, “I suppose, but keep it down.” Brandy walked in, “Brandy, this is Eliza?”

Brandy offered a little wave, “I'm sorry that you got hurt. It's nice to finally meet you Eliza, Shelby has talked about you a few times.” She smiled and couldn't help but notice the way Shelby looked at Eliza, “I can tell how much she loves you Eliza.”

Waylon sat down in a chair, “So...have you met the new girl at the diner yet?” he directed it towards Brandy. She shook her head no, “Kinda like you, but with a real shitty attitude. She seemed all about Ace though, like sh…”

“A NEW GIRL?” Brandy widened her eyes as her voice has rose, she caught herself, “I'm so sorry Eliza,” she looked back at Waulon, “But...but he and I are dating. She touched him?”

“Well, she isn't shy, that’s for sure, her name's Bitchy Betty. She seemed to like to be pretty close to him.” He could see Brandy's gears turning.

Shelby snickered, “You and Ace ? When did this happen?”

“Just last night,” her voice got quiet.

Shelby grinned, “Well maybe you need to walk right in there and tell her to keep her hands off your man.” Waylon stood up behind Brandy and shook his head no, Shelby shook hers yes, “You walk in there and get right in her face and tell her to keep her fucking hands off your man.”

“I can't do that,” Brandy slumped her shoulders, “I don't swear, you know that. See, you're so lucky you two.” Waylon rubbed her shoulders, “I gue…”

Shekby stoid up and pulled Brandy up from the chair, “Stop being a little Twit. Since you're already crying about this bitch tell me a few things.” Brandy just nodded, her eyes had glassed over, Shelby pointed her finger right into Brandy's chest, “You obviously like Ace?”

“Yes, I do.”

She pushed her finger a little harder, “I know how you work, you want this to work out like a fucking fairytale right?” Brandy nodded, “What? I couldn't hear you.”

Brandy swallowed, “Yes.”

“The thought of another girl touching YOUR man pisses you off right?”

“Yes.”

“Then what the fuck are you gonna do about it?”

“I...I don't know.”

Shelby got nose to nose with Brandy and shoved her finger right up to her face, “You do to the diner, you get in that bitch's face like this, shove your finger in her face and tell her to stay the fuck away from Ace. You don't him. You don't flirt with him. You don't even think about him or I'll kick your fucking ass.”

Brandy stepped back, “I…”

Shelby grabbed her by her shoulders and shook her, “Yes you can, stop being Miss Goody Goody and go stake your God damned claim. Think of how you will feel if you let this bitch walk in and steal Ace from you. You wouldn't like that would you?” Brandy shook her head, “Then you need to get mean. Let the bitch know that you're not fucking around.”

Waylon looked at Eliza, “I feel like I'm watching a pre fight prep talk,” he grinned.

“You're right,” Brandy balled her right hand into a fist and hit her left, “I've waited too long for this and this girl isn't going to take Ace away from me.” She pressed her lips together, “I deserve it, I always get screwed over.”

“That's my girl, you go handle your shit like a boss.”

Brandy grit her teeth and spun around and walked out. Waylon looked at Shelby, “Ya think you filled her with too much shit there Killer?”

“I just wished I could be there to watch it if she actually does do it. But honestly, I have seen her get shit on a lot and she needs to stand up for herself.” Waylon agreed with Shelby, “The Doc said Eliza is ok to leave, so why don't you help me get Eliza downstairs and into one of those wheelchairs.”

Waylon kneeled down next to Eliza, “Are you ready for this? I don't want to hurt you any, but if you're like Shelby at all, I know you hate being cooped up here.”

Shelby wadded up Eliza's panties and tossed them in the garbage can, “I have some at home for ya Hun, besides, I think those could walk on their own right now. She took the towel off of Eliza's hair and wrapped it around her waist to cover her. Together Waylon and Shelby slowly carried Eliza downstairs where Shelby hurried to grab the wheelchair she saw in front of the pulpit. The pair got Eliza situated in the wheelchair like a mother holding her minutes old child. It was as if they felt every wince in Eliza's face. Shelby walked over to the visibly tired doctor, “Doc, I can't put into words how thankful I am for you and what you did for Eliza.” She gave the doctor a hug, “I will repay you, I promise, you name it.”

Shelby smiled and nodded at the doctor then looked down at Eliza, “Are you ready to go home Hun?”

Like a boss, like a boss, handle it like a boss , Shelby's words cycled in Brandy's thoughts as she walked down the stairs. She walked right past the Dr. Arthur froze and backed up, “Dr. Arthur, I brought two wheelchairs, and a few other things for you, for the clinic.” She gestured to the pulpit where she had placed everything, “If I find more stuff I'll bring it right over, but I have to go take care of something right now. I will bring you some food later if you want to rest, you look really tired.” She smiled, “You're a real good man Dr. Arthur, we sure are lucky to have you around. I hate to leave, but I have to go now. Have a wonderful day.”

Brandy stepped outside, she puffed up her chest and took a deep breath, “Like a...a, like a f…” she narrowed her eyes and looked towards the diner, “LIKE A FUCKING BOSS!!!” She quickly looked around, hoping nobody heard her.

Waylon and Shelby were wheeling Eliza to the door when they heard Brandy. He looked at Shelby, “I hope you're happy.”

Shelby have a devilish grin, “No, not really, I forgot a couple of things.” They wheeled Eliza out the door, “Hang on a sec guys, BRANDY!” Brandy turned around and met Shelby halfway, “I forgot, the first thing you need to do is walk right up to Ace and give him a good kiss, then walk over to that chick.”

Brandy rifled through her bag, “Let me find a pencil, this is a lot of stuff to remember.”

Shelby pulled Brandy's hand from her purse, “Look at me, I know you aren't a mean person Brandy, but sometimes you have to kick a little...ya know? Stop letting people walk all over you, you're a....a good friend, a good person and most everyone in this shit ass world these days will take advantage of that, stop letting them.”

Brandy took a breath, “I'm your friend, a real friend?”

Shelby rolled her eyes, “You drive me nuts sometimes and I could choke the shit out of you but yeah...youre my friend.”

Brandy hugged Shelby and squeezed, “I never knew you thought that, that you were a real friend, thank you.”

“Yeah yeah, go on, take care of business,” Shelby broke off the hug and started walking back towards Eliza and Waylon before yelling over her shoulder, “Tie your hair back and take your glasses off.”

“But I don't have a hair tie on me.”

Shelby dramatically rolled her eyes again, “Then go home and get one.”

Brandy gave a thumbs up, “Good idea, I'm on it.” She turned around and walked home, handle your shit, he's your man, be a fucking boss , she repeated in her mind. She got to her front door and looked across the street at the diner, she caught a glimpse of Betty and clenched her fists, “Handle your shit. He is my man.” She walked inside slamming the door behind her. Going straight up the stairs to her bathroom she stood in front of the mirror, “Let her know not to mess with Ace, you deserve him, you deserve to be happy. I'm not letting you steal him away. Be a fucking boss.” She spoke to herself in the mirror as she pulled her hair up into a ponytail. She stared at her reflection then took off her glasses, “I'm sorry Nana and Papa, but I have to handle my stuff.”

She drummed her fingers on the edge of the sink and began to practice mean mugging. She clenched her jaw, balled up her fists, narrowed her eyes, “STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY MAN!!!” She screamed, as she worked herself up, recalling Shelby's advice her heart rate picked up. She wished Shelby was still there to coach her along but Shelby was right, she needed to handle this on her own and not let the girl think she can walk all over her. Who was Brandy to question Shelby? She had seen Shelby be mean quite a bit, like Shelby was a professional. Thoughts of people she remembered taking advantage of her, stealing from her, harassing her, tricking her, being flat out rude to her. Her own brother who had done all of those things to her, this girl was the straw that broke the camel's back. “ENOUGH IS ENOUGH,” she snarled at the mirror.

One last, long, deep breath and Brandy turned and walked slowly down the stairs to her front door. She chewed on her lower lip, kept opening and closing her fists, with a nod she whipped open the door. Tunnel vision set in on the diner, she saw the sign Steve had put up earlier, “I will rip you down,” she growled under her breath and marched across the street to the diner. She got to the door and put her hand on the door pull, she watched as Betty walked past Ace, running her hand across the small of his back. “Like a fucking boss, time to handle this my shit.”

Brandy yanked the door open, Betty glanced but went right back to what she was doing and paid no attention to Brandy. She walked around the counter, “You can't be back here Toots.”

“OOOHHHHH, yes I can….BETTY,” Brandy hissed like a venomous snake and she walked up to Ace and put her right arm around his waist and her left hand behind his head, pulling him down where her lips met his and she gave him the most passionate kiss. “I'm taking care of you tonight, you might want to close up early Honey.”

Brandy turned around to see Betty staring at her with disgust. She walked right up to the younger woman, Betty didn't back down and Brandy got right in her face just like Shelby had told her to, pressing her feet hard on the tile floor moving Betty back. “What's your fucking problem Toots?”

“YOU, you're my....my fucking problem bitch,” Brandy's eyes began to burn with rage as she very quickly reflected on seeing Betty drag her hand across Ace’s back. She shoved her finger up to Betty’s face, “You stay the fuck away from Ace. Don't you fucking touch him like that ever again, you got that bitch?”

Betty leaned back and laughed, “Are you serious right now Toots?”

Brandy balled up her right fist and raised her brow, “Yes I am Betty ,” and from out of nowhere and unable to stop, the never felt before ferocity of her anger exploded and Brandy’s fist found Betty’s mouth, “Serious enough bitch?”

Ace Makovich - Diner

Betty brought her hand to her face where Brandy had just punched her, and there was a bit of blood but not much. Her gaze turned to the right and she was about to go for a knife lying on the counter. Ace gave her a look, and she stopped half way. Ace turned, and everyone was looking their way, after all who wouldn’t stare at this show. Sara was loving it, she was just laughing.

Brandy looked like she was about to throw a second punch. Ace had enough, he knelt on a knee and grabbed Brandi by the legs and threw her over his shoulder and made for the door. He looked back at Betty, “Put some ice on your face and keep an eye out on the diner.” Betty shouted a couple things ant Brandy as Ace closed the door, but he wasn’t able to hear them. At first Brandy tried kicking him, but he held her legs tightly, but she did throw some punches. She finally realized Ace was carrying her and she stopped.

They were away from the diner now; they were at the beach, near the wall. Ace placed Brandy on the sand. He paced in front of her, she tried to get up but Ace shot her a look, and she sat back down. Ace was before the first stages of the wall. He looked at it and it was crude but it would work as a basic means of protections. They could get some concrete from the Quincy quarries and it could make it even better.

He turned back to Brandy and took a seat on the sand next to her. He pulled his pistol and placed it to his side. Brandy gaze turned to the gun. Ace looked at her and where she was looking and he chuckled at her scared gaze, “What do you think I’m going to do with it? I just want it ready to access in case of a mirelurk.”

“I-I-I…am so-…sorry. I just saw…and you …and what Shelby had said…I just snapped.” Brandy stuttered as tears streamed down her face.

“I should’ve figured Shelby would be involved in this. Got to say it’s a nice day for the beach. No mirelurk sightings, clear skies…now if the temperature was warmer, I might’ve been tempted to go for a swim.” Ace said as he ran his hands through the sand. He placed a hand on her back and rubbed up and down. He laid down on the sand and gave her a nudge and placed her head on his chest as she continued to sob.

“Gotta say, it has been a while since I took a moment to just rest and do nothing. You know, been a while since I took a break…” He rubbed her arm and smiled.

She looked up at him, “Aren-…Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Ace shook his head, “Nah…not the time. I’m on break right now with my girl.” He listened as the waves crashed against the beach, it was a pleasant sound, one that was usually broken up the chittering sound of mirelurks. “By the way, I hired a waitress and cook to help me out at the diner. You know to give me time to spend with you or anyone else for that matter. Bit of an attitude on her, has nothing on this world, even the clothes she’s wearing once belonged to me. Escaped from Children of Atom. I think if you started over, you might like her…”

Steve Cooper- 10:30 to 13:30- Salem

Shelby looked at the bear then to Steve, “Sorry sweetie, she's taken,” she rubbed Eliza's shoulder, “But, I want to say thank you again for getting her here to see the Doc, I owe you one.”

“Xiànzài yěxǔ” Steve replied “oh wait you probably don’t speak Chinese...it err mean “may you have an quick and easy recovery” Steve lied “ but you’re about to get clean up so I’ll leave you alone, hope you get well soon.”

Leaving the clinic Steve returned to the pleasure den and was pleasantly surprised to see that Edgar had cleaned out the old tailor shop which Steve had yet to remodel. “Good work Edgar”

“Hey Steve” Rose called out as she noticed him arrive “this girl showed up... saw you’re sign or something and wanted a job.”
Steve looked at the young woman probably in her early twenties and from the look of her hadn’t eaten for a few days “Hi... My name is Brooke I’m gonna be honest I haven’t done this sort of thing before... I mean I’ve had sex but I hadn’t charged people for it.”

looks desperate.. porbably better if rose tells her how things work but should be nice and supportive

“Welcome” Steve replied as he held out his hand to shake “like rose said my name is Steve, I’m sorta new to this too so don’t worry about being nervous but as you can see we are still building this place so how about you get a meal with rose and she can explain to you how things work here.”

“Cool... er thank you boss.” Brooke replied before she and Rose went off to get a meal.

Wonder if she can dance?

Heading up to his bedroom Steve took off his jacket, rolling up his sleeves and gathered up his tools to continue working on the pleasure den. Currently the pleasure den, which was formerly three joint buildings, was split into three selections along with upstairs (bedrooms) and the basement.

The right side building, the old accountant company had been turned into lounge area with Steve having built a small stage (including stripper pole) & bar area but notably lacked an bartender and could some more furniture but otherwise was ready.

The left side, the recently cleaned out tailor shop was going to be the drug den and whilst there would be few private booths at the back this would mostly a comfortable open area where people could get high and be encouraged to purchase more drugs with the girls.

The middle area, a fishing bait shop was for now mostly going to be used as storage/Johnny’s drug lab but the front part of the shop had be converted into a front desk lobby of sorts for the pleasure den (and counter for those only wanting to buy drugs) with access though new created doorways to both areas.

Steve task for today was decorate the drug den and to block off the accountant company’s and Tailor shop per-war entrances so that the only entrance to the pleasure den (Apart from the back door) was though the Fishing shop lobby, allowing them to control who entered & left and to ensure large weapons where checked at the door.

people will feel safer knowing they can keep pistols but don't want rifles all over the place.

Using his screwdriver and saw Steve disassembled the old tailor shop’s display cabinets, using the matching wood pieces to build a new “wall” to barricade /block off the store’s old entrance and create some wall dividers for the private booths.Going to the storage room Steve collected some of the tailor’s shop fabric rolls, using to cover the up the newly created wall and “doors” for the private booths which Steve had set up in the back of the store.

All that was left now was to add furniture, Tables and chairs Steve could make but mattress, which Steve wanted for the common drug area was something he'd have to find or buy..

Time to go and get lunch... Acey or Barney might know where I can find some mattress and maybe some nice chairs too.

Packing up his tools Steve left the pleasure den and may his way to diner and noticed that Acey had seemlying hired a waiter, a cute young girl who appeared to be wearing shorts made from male trousers

“Hey Acey when did you hire the new girl?” Steve asked as he sat down at counter and ordered his meal “I’ll have today’s specia-“ But like everyone else in the diner was distracted when an rather angry looking Mouse named Brandi stormed into the diner.. she even appeared ready for something with her glasses off and hair tired up

karma overlords... looks angrier than she was before.

“OOOHHHHH, yes I can….BETTY,” Brandy outright hissed like one of those "snake" creatures that lived before the bombs at the waiter girl for some reason before kissing Ace.Steve turned to waiter, seemlying named Betty “don’t worry she hates me too!”

Mouse turned and walked up to Betty... Steve was unsure what Betty... who seemlying only been here a few hours had pissed off the little mouse so much but whatever it was she didn’t back down with them both giving each other the cutest looking angry stares at each other. “What's your fucking problem Toots?”

“YOU, you're my....my fucking problem bitch,”

He couldn’t stop himself longer; Steve began to laugh as the two girls argued over Ace and then it happened... The Angered One... Brandi with her cute little face of rage Punched Betty’s Mouth “oh karma overlords... she actually fuck did it..”

“Fight! Fight! Fight!” Steve cheered “What the hell are you doing betty? Punch her back!”

Adam 'Trails' Wilford- Wilford's shed

Adam was in his small one room shed, patching the holes in the wall before he got to putting out the goods he'd scavenged out of the Inn. His holotape playing a bunch of Pre-War country songs, the current one a song called 'I never will marry' that filled the room with music, which worked for him since he hated silence. He groaned as he got up from his knees, holding his welder's torch in one hand. "There, that ought to to it. Now, before I get to putting this stuff out, I should get to cleaning off the boat since those parts ain't coming in for a few days yet." He put his tools back and dug around for his brushes and rags to polish and clean the ship of the blood, crap and general dirt that had gotten on her over time. Adam took his jacket off to work in his t-shirt to keep cooler while he worked in the sun and strolled around his shed to the makeshift dock he'd thrown up, a joke in comparison to the proper docks to his left and right, but he was mistrustful of anyone but him overseeing his boat except him and maybe Rook. He hopped on deck and looked around in disgust at the cages needing removal to be fixed, but he sighed, figuring this would be the price of helping make Salem succeed. He put the small crate of cleaning supplies down and began moving on and off the ship to the coast, putting cages and old rope and fishing net in a neat pile. After about an hour, he'd finally cleared the deck and returned to the crate beside the ship's controls and began to spray the deck with a mixture of Abraxo and other cleaning solvents and began to scrub with both hands to scrub through all the grime.

As Adam finally finished, he looked out west, noticing the orange radiance of the sun. He'd put up the supplies and put a longer sleeved shirt on and decided to sit back on the boat. He dug out the film canister and for once he felt no dread to see his old photograph of his wife and son. He'd spent years denying to himself his past, but something in his encounter with Celeste seemed to allow him to confront his choices he'd made almost six years back. Adam looked at his wife, a mixture of shame, longing and relief all a torrent inside, but he only smiled a sad smile to her smiling face. He sighed, then finally spoke to the picture, "Ellia, I....you know I'm sorry. About Jack, I mean. I didn't abandon him, but you know that, don't you? I couldn't have him be a drifter like his pa, he deserved a settled life. But...maybe with Salem....maybe one day. But how could I ever face him. He may have my letter, but, hell, you can't blame the kid if he never wanted to speak to me again. But I was never that good with kids, without you, I didn't know what to do. But, I think, meeting Celeste, finally telling the whole story, not just vague parts, finally brought some closure." He ran a hand in his the mustache over his lips and kissed the photograph. "And that's why you know I have to do this, my love. You will always be in my heart, but I have to let go. It's....it's how you'd have wanted it." Adam took a fist sized boulder and tied the canister to with with a piece of fishing line and kissed the can one last time. "You're free. Both of you. You don't need me to hold your ghosts in this world anymore."

Sara Weaver
Salem, Massachusetts - Late Morning



Sara had just started finishing up her food when the girl she had seen from before came storming into the diner in a huff. Initially Sara thought that the woman was coming for her, after the remark she made earlier. Fortunately for both parties she had another target, slugging the sassy waitress in the face with a respected but rather pathetic punch. Sara couldn't help but chuckle a little bit to herself during the whole ordeal. She could tell that the girl was obviously flustered and by how she punched she didn't know what she was doing.

Finished with her food and not privy to hanging around with Dutch, Sara got up from her table and grabbed her things. Admiring the girls handiwork on her way out. “Best be careful who you piss off around here. That pussy ass punch could've just as well been a bullet.” Sara left after her snide remark, following Ace with his girlfriend slung over his shoulder. She normally kept to herself but there was something about that girl, it was stupid but Sara wanted to talk to her.

It didn't take Sara long at all to find the two lovebirds by the makeshift wall the townspeople were constructing. She hesitated at first, afraid to say anything. Sara had a reputation to uphold, especially in front of Ace but she had something to say and she couldn't let it eat away at her. Maybe things could change? Maybe she didn't have to be like this all the time. Sara eventually worked up the confidence to speak, striking a concerned tone that was foreign to her. “Are you alright kid? That was a hell of a swing? You need to put your hips into it next time, knock her on her ass.”

Eliza Weaver
Salem, Massachusetts - Late Morning



Eliza was starting to second guess her decision to leave. Just the trip out of the room she was in and into a wheelchair left her in searing pain. She wasn't going to let that keep her from leaving the clinic though. There were so many people that had moved into Salem after she did and she hadn't met any of them. She didn't trust them and was afraid to, trust had gotten her hurt in the past and now in her weakened state she felt just as vulnerable as she did as a young woman.

Shelby was her only solace right now and she didn't want her to leave her side, as pathetic as it may have sounded Eliza was afraid to be alone. Even Waylon whom Shelby seemed to trust so much out Eliza on edge. It was something she wish she didn't feel but she couldn't forget all of the things that had happened to her to cause it. Still when she closed her eyes she relived all of the horrible things Bragg did to her just a few months ago. Someone whom she trusted just as much if not more than Shelby trusted Waylon.

Regardless Eliza wanted out of the clinic, and closer to Shelby. She didn't want to go back to her apartment, not anymore. Home didn't sound safe to her now that people knew she existed. Staying with Shelby seemed to be the most appropriate thing to do, given the fact that Eliza knew she couldn't walk. Nestled into her wheelchair Eliza didn't bother crossing her legs, they hurt way too much to move them. Instead she raised her hand to grab Shelby's, firmly gripping her fingers. “I'm ready to go. Just don't lose me on the way. I can't walk for shit.”

Waylon walked alongside Eliza as Shelby pushed the wheelchair back to her home. Eliza remembered meeting with and speaking to Waylon. Part of her liked him, he was more than handsome, had a good wit to him, but Eliza knew better. She said the same things about Bragg and it came back to bite her. Now she couldn't even work up something to say to Waylon, not even a thank you. Eliza just rested her head on her arm and grimaced in pain.

She was too afraid of Waylon to talk to him, all she could think of was how far she had fallen since she left Shelby. She was much stronger back then, but during these months apart old wounds were viciously ripped open, forcing Eliza to heal all over again. Thankfully she stumbled back into Shelby's arms because she had fallen back into some dark times, and she needed someone like Shelby to help her over out. Without her Eliza didn't feel like she had a chance, with her she felt hope again. Something she never thought was real.

Shelby didn't live too far away from the clinic. She was actually only two houses down from where Eliza was staying. They wheeled Eliza in through the front door and grabbed her underneath each arm. She felt like an invalid, she couldn't even walk on her own. Any pressure applied to her injured leg caused her to buckle in pain. But she forced herself through it, even just steps inside Shelby's home made her feel safer. Her familiar smell lingered in the air causing Eliza to feel a little nostalgic for their time together in Vegas.

Shelby and Waylon managed to carry Eliza to a chair to sit her down. Getting off of her feet took a huge strain off of Eliza, but also being somewhere where she felt safe helped a lot. “Thank you. I don't really have any idea on where to go from here. Everything I owned that meant something to me was on my horse and I don't know where he went. So I don't know what to do.” Eliza stopped herself for a minute and raked her hair with her fingers, she was getting a little emotional and was trying to calm herself down. “I don't want to be alone anymore. I've spent too much time alone, and afraid. I can't do it anymore.”

The woman seemed surprised to see Rook. That was odd, did she not know Rook was in town? Did she not know that he was building the defenses for the town at this time. Strange, perhaps she simply forgot about it. That was ok, it seemed that this town had a lot of people who forget things until they see them or are simply reminded that they exist. Rook offered out his hand slowly.

“Yes, Rook is Super Mutant. Rook is Rook as well. Brandy is good person, Rook thinks she is one of the nicest people he had ever met.” Rook gave a nod, as through that was the ending of that range of fact. “Rook is building a wall, needs help to build it, but Rook also has questions for you. They are important ones.”

Rook took a moment to look around the room, as if trying to find something to use, but then frowned when he couldn't. “No matter. Does lady know if there are stairs to the roof of this place? Does lady want wall built so wall is against building, or away from building? Would lady mind having a gate near her door as well, so people pass by here first if they arrive on other road?”

He hoped he was getting this all the way through for Celeste. While he didn't know her name, if she didn't own this place, she would point him to where the owner of this building was. She seemed nice, and this rest was good for Rooks' muscles at the moment. He had been pushing himself pretty hard, but it was all for the greater good. He would get plenty of time to rest later on, when he was able to know that the wall would keep them all safe.

Mary Hawthorne - Riding a borrowed horse - outskirts of town

Tiring of riding circles around the Village Square, and to find a spout to let the horse graze, Mary ambled down the road South. She didn't plan to go far, as she didn't know how the horse would react near the Museum. Heading to the outskirts of town, Mary passed by the ruins of houses, looking for a suitable place to stop. It was then she noticed the stranger down the road, running towards her waving his arms over his head. He looked young, wearing a jeans, with a green jacket over a T-shirt. He was armed, a rifle was slung over his shoulder, but his demeanor didn't strike her as threatening....he seemed to be running away from something. She nudged the horse forward and trotted up to him and stopped.

The man appeared to be completely distracted by the horse, and approached and began to gently run his hands along it's face and neck. Obviously he had never seen a horse before...Mary could only guess that the horse and it's rider had come from elsewhere. West? From Canada? But he hadn't been signalling her so he could touch the horse...he was scared of something, and it wasn't just the Museum.

"There something wrong, mister?", Mary asked politely, "You looked like you were in trouble."

He shook his head then spoke. “You have to be careful out here", he said, pointing West, "I just came from some place called Dunwich Borers. Some creepy stuff happening over there, hooded men and women chanting before some stone monolith."

"The Quarry?", Mary asked, "Worshiping a monolith?" Mary found that quite odd. "The Quarry is held by Raiders...never heard of Raiders worshiping an idol."

"Also they were digging further down...", he continued, "They chased me when they saw me, I think I gave them the slip, but I’d be careful if I were you. They definitely did not seem friendly… and the presen-…yeah not friendly.” He looked like he was about to say more, but checked himself and started fiddling with his backpack nervously.

“Sorry, for the rudeness.", he said after composing himself. "My name is Rick, Rick Noel… But please believe me, stay away from that area.”

About then, the hairs began to stand up on the back of her neck...she was in danger. Not from Rick....but someone else nearby.

"Pleased to meet you, Rick...i'm Mary Hawthorne", Mary replied with a eerie calm as she reached into a pocket and her fingers curled around the grip of her revolver. "Don't act alarmed, but we're about to be attacked. Be a dear and get that rifle unslung, if you please."

As Rick unslung his rifle from his shoulder, the bushes in front of the ruined house less than fifty feet to Mary's right rustled and two forms hurtled out, rushing straight for them.

"PH´NGLUI SOTH!", one of them screamed as he raised up a old Chinese officer's sword and charged straight for her. Mary pulled out the revolver and rapidly emptied it into his chest. At least one round connected, as the assailant screamed, dropping the sword and clutching at his chest as he staggered back. About that time, Rick opened fire, the sound of the high-powered rifle startling the horse and causing it to rear back. Unable to hold on, Mary leapt off instead, landing on her feet. She raided the revolver again and pulled the trigger, only to hear a click as the hammer fell on a spent cartridge. Her attacker, blood beginning to trickle from a corner of his youth, looked at her with pure hatred as he used his free hand to inject himself in the neck with a Psycho injector he had produced from within his robes.

"Bitch!", he spat at her as he pulled out a large knife that had been jammed into his belt, "I'm gonna make you wish you'd never been born!"

Mary dropped the revolver and snatched the sword off the ground and fell into an "en garde" stance, waiting for her assailant to make his move. He lunged forward to strike, which she easily parried, leaving him wide open so that she could run him through, the blade finding his heart. This was too much for even his drug induced frenzy to compensate for, and he sunk to his knees, blood now gushing from his mouth. He gurgled something at her then fell over dead. She stood there for a moment, panting to catch her breath as she savored the moment...then looked around. Rick had dealt with the other attacker, fortunately. She stuck the sword in the ground, point first, and picked up her revolver, ejecting the shells into her hand then pulling them in her pocket and reloading the cylinder with a speed loader. She then walked up to the attacker and put a round into his temple to make sure he was dead. Noticing a medallion around his neck, she pulled it off and pocketed it. Walking over to the crumpled form of the other one, she saw a check shot was unnecessary as the back of his skull had been blown out from Rick's rifle. She looked over at Rick, her arm, still holding the smoking revolver hanging limp by her side.

"We need to get out of here, Rick", Mary said. "there may be more of them".

Fortunately, the horse had not gone far, so she was able to approach it and calm it down, and climbed back aboard.

"Get up behind me", Mary said, reaching out her hand for him to take. "just stay still, and hold on to me and we'll get back to town alright."

After a couple attempts, she was able to get Rick onboard, and they rode back into town, heading for her house. She put the horse in the brahmin pen, and took his bridle off.

"Well, Rick", she said, "I must say that meeting you has been....interesting. If you'd like, I can put out a extra plate for you...and perhaps you could tell me more about what you saw in that Quarry."

She led him inside, passing through the living room and the robots she had found piled up on the floor. As well as the bloody saddle from the horse....something she needed to address soon.

"Amazing what folks throw out, isn't it?", Mary said, "Found them while looking for bottles. I hope to find someone able to get at least one of them working again...don't know the first thing about fixing them myself."

She then took Rick into the kitchen, inviting him to take a seat at the kitchen table. She offered him some brahmin milk from the refrigerator, and then began to prepare venison stew.

"Only meat I have is venison", Mary said as she moved about the kitchen, "but I've got some pretty good recipes for it."

Once it was prepared, and cooking, she got herself some milk and sat down at the table opposite him.

"So tell me, Rick", Mary said in a friendly manner, "What brings you to Salem?"

Dr. Arthur West, Salem Church

"Well, you won't die," Arthur told Summer as he packed up the medicines he'd just been using to treat the woman, "You'll need plenty of rest but now that I've got the proper supplies, you should heal up nicely without issue. I'm happy the town pulled through in the end. Perhaps there's hope for this place after all.."

Arthur then spun around when he heard someone's voice coming from behind,

“Dr. Arthur, I brought two wheelchairs, and a few other things for you, for the clinic.” She gestured to the pulpit where she had placed everything, “If I find more stuff I'll bring it right over, but I have to go take care of something right now. I will bring you some food later if you want to rest, you look really tired.” She smiled, “You're a real good man Dr. Arthur, we sure are lucky to have you around. I hate to leave, but I have to go now. Have a wonderful day.”

"Thank you. Thank you very much," He replied with a languid wave and a weary smile, "I'll put these to use right away."

Arthur walked over to the pulpit and examined some of the new equipment. It was a good stock to be sure, and he breathed a sigh of relief with the knowledge that finally the clinic here had what it needed.

Well perhaps it could use a few more essential items, He pondered, A thought crossed his mind then. One that he hadn't thought of to do before. Maybe...just maybe...he could send word to Vault 88 and ask The Directorate for supplies. It might be a long shot, but he could spin it in a number of ways that might make it appealing for them to agree. He still considered himself part of The Institute, and perhaps he could make arrangements to benefit both the town and his colleagues back in the Vault. And if it meant getting the supplies he needed, then so much the better. He'd have to think on it more.

His musing were interrupted as Eliza and her friend descended the stairs. Arthur motioned for them to place Eliza carefully into one of the nearly brought wheelchairs in order to get her ready to leave the clinic. Once that was done, the other woman, Shelby, approached him,

“Doc, I can't put into words how thankful I am for you and what you did for Eliza. I will repay you, I promise, you name it.”

Arthur was stunned by the hug. Unsure of how exactly to react to the sudden display of gratitude, he awkwardly stood with his hands at his side with a rather surprised look while his face turned a very noticeable beet red,

"Yes...well...think nothing of it." He stuttered out once Shelby had pulled back. He adjusted his glasses which had become askew and tried to regain something resembling a professional composure. Although it wasn't working very well, "My only request for payment is that you do what you can to return the favor to help the clinic when you can and to..ahem..help me...as well..." His stomach grumbled loudly as if on cue, "Aside from that...there is no charge."

Once Eliza and Shelby had left the church, Arthur sighed deeply and rubbed his tired eyes. He walked back over to Summer and Frieda,

"I'm just going to lie down for an hour or two..I'll just be...just be.." He stammered, the full exhaustion of the days events now hitting him like a ton of bricks. He then gave a tremendous yawn which interrupted his flow of thought and he trudged over to the staircase and up to the second floor.

Without another word or sound, he collapsed into the makeshift bed he'd made for himself on the second-floor mezzanine and immediately drifted off into sleep. The sounds of gunshots outside the town didn't even register for him as he slumbered.