Rick Noel - Clinic - Nightfall

"Mayor Barney, i wonder if that's Barney rook, read a report...had read something about him when I was making my way here with minutemen." Rick's heart jumped as he inadvertenly said out loud what he was thinking. Hopefuly this Frieda character would not inquire or notice on his slip of words.

*Damn, I need to be careful on what I said and around whom I say it. If I inadvertently say something I could affect the security of the vault and all those within.* As he was lost in thought shots rang out in the distance. Rick reached for his rifle, but he had left it in Mary's house. He had his institute pistol, but that would make him stand out.

"Oh my..." Arthur muttered fearfully, "What's happening you think? Are we under attack?"

"It didn't sound to be close by doctor. Perhaps some local revelling and shooting his pistol in the air. I'm sure if it was serious someone may raise alert." As he said that, he saw a woman running from the distance behind the clinic towards where the gunshots had rung out, "Well if it's something that woman has it covered it looks like."

As he started walking down the church steps, a man approached from the diner. He had light brown, blondsih hair, and was wearing a red t shirt. Rick had'nt seen him before, then again he hadn't seen much of the town and its inhabitants. "Hope you folk are alright, second time today gunshots have rung out. Perhaps tomorrow I'll help that greenskin with that walk he's erecting." The man said as he addressed the group.

*Greenskin...Greenskin...what is that?* Rick turned to him, "Well a wall would be a good idea. this little town has one area that it's mostly vulnerable at, it would be smart to secure it...Though seeing as the sun it's setting, some lights for the streets would be a good idea... anything could make it's way in here with the darkness...Sorry, where's my manners, my name's Rick, just arrived to this town."

"'Sup," Ace replied as he nodded an gave him a once over, "True about light, however we currently don't have power requirements to make them work. But it is being addressed, and we might soon have power to the homes and streetlights."

Adam 'Trails' Wilford- Adam's House

Adam sat on a stool over his cookfire preparing the dinner for later, glazing it with whiskey (and sneaking a swig or two) at times as he cooked the steak. After the meal was done, he took the pan from the over the fire and went inside to place it on the hotplate to keep it warm for later and went back outside to sit in front of the fire with his guitar. He sat for a minute, wondering what to play, before deciding to play the old blues song 'Down by the Riverside'. It wasn't long into the song when a loud collection of gunshots rang out and Adam stopped playing, looking south towards the entry to town. He shrugged, took another drink and began playing then notes to the song again but long forgot the lyrics. He stopped a second time, contemplating going going to see the commotion. He sighed a grunting sigh muttering "Whatever. Ain't got nothing to with me and I ain't no cowboy." and put the guitar beside the faded stool, walking inside and shutting the door, keeping his pistol unholstered just in case it was more than drunk idiots fighting. He stopped in front of the mirror as he was passing. He noted the grey in his beard, the lines in his face. Adam's face was grim as he touched himself, 'Look at you, kid. You've done got old no matter how young you might feel inside. Think of how many folk don't live past twenty in this god-forsaken world, you really going to let these kids in Salem throw themselves down? One more body given so you can live?'. Adam nodded and looked away, ashamed, "Nothing means anything to me anymore. The hell should I care?". Adam looked back at his reflection, locking eyes with himself, 'You know why, kid. You spent your whole life wandering and drifting. You've been here a few days and you're already meeting folks. Rook? Celeste? Ace?', his mind brought their faces to mind as his thoughts continued, 'Hell, son. You might even make Celeste your girl and you'd risk them all? For what? A few years hiding in a shack?'. Adam frowned, "Over twenty years of no real responsibilities. Last time I left the only responsibilities, I lost everything. Not again.". Adam picked up his rifle from under his bed and checked to make sure she was loaded and ran to the gates of town. He ran up to a woman with long brown hair, "Hey! What is it, partner? Bandits? Mutants? 'claws, God forbid?"

Sorry, have edits to make.

Sara Weaver
Sandy Coves Inn, Salem, Massachusetts - mid to late afternoon

Sara was relieved to hear Celeste's voice, even if it was filled with anxiety. With the shots being as close as they were Sara was worried that she was injured, but that didn't seem to be the case. With a sigh of relief Sara leaned against the wall, rifle still in hand. “We'll be alright Celeste. As long as I'm staying here I'll keep an eye out for you…it's the least I can do after all.”

Just as Eliza finished speaking the young woman from before, Brandy, entered the lobby. She casually strolled up to the counter complementing Celeste on her dress, and greeting Sara. Upon mentioning Celeste's outfit Sara realized that she wasn't fully aware of what was happening. For when she caught sight of Celeste in her dress she felt a fluttering in her stomach. Sara thought she was very attractive but she didn't say anything. Celeste didn't dress like that for her, she had someone special in mind and it certainly wasn't Sara.

Unbeknownst to Sara but she had started to zone out as she thought about Celeste in her dress, her eyes fixated on the wall opposite of her while she drifted away in thought. In response to Brandy’s greeting all Sara mustered was a poor attempt at a friendly smile. Sara wasn't sure if it was because of just waking up or if Celeste really just had this effect on her but she was out of it entirely.

It wasn't until the sounds of Steve coming back down from the roof started to echo into the lobby that Sara snapped out of it. She was making it a point to stay alert around him, he was shady and she certainly wasn't foolish enough to trust him. When he spoke to her, her blood started to boil, a sensation all too familiar to her. Surprisingly though Sara held her tongue, for once there was no smartass remark. Until Steve turned around and headed towards the door, as he breached the threshold of the doorway Sara called out from her spot against the wall.

“How about I shove one of these feet up your ass and then you can talk to me about the rules of combat!?” Immediately Sara went from feeling like her typical firebrand self to being crippled with regret after she turned and looked at Celeste. She hadn't even fully reacted to what Sara had said yet but just looking at her made her regret it for one of the few times in her life. Celeste was a much better woman than she was, and Sara envied her for that.

FRIEDA RICHTER - Salem Clinic -- late afternoon to evening

"Alright then..." Arthur eventually replied, as though breaking himself from some train of thought, "I could certainly use the help around here and, god forbid, if someone were to ever try and attack this place I'd be well...in a pickle. I don't exactly have any formal weapons training. Although...I don't charge for my services so I'm not sure what I could pay you with. I suppose I could offer to split any food or supplies that the townspeople agree to provide. That is, unless you've worked something out with Mayor Barney perhaps? Either way I..."

"Mayor Barney, i wonder if that's Barney rook, read a report...had read something about him when I was making my way here with minutemen," Rick answered casually, before clamping his mouth shut.

Frieda raised an eyebrow but didn't get a chance to reply. She was starting to feel as though the two men knew each other, somehow, the way they seemed to just talk to each other while she stood there. Shots rang out in the distance. Rick reached for a weapon that wasn't there. Frieda gripped the handle of the scissors.

"Oh my..." Arthur muttered fearfully, "What's happening you think? Are we under attack?"

"It didn't sound to be close by doctor. Perhaps some local revelling and shooting his pistol in the air. I'm sure if it was serious someone may raise alert." As he said that, a woman running from the distance behind the clinic towards where the gunshots had rung out, "Well if it's something that woman has it covered it looks like."

Frieda could hardly believe what she was hearing. Rick's diction was nothing like she'd heard since she left the Enclave, and his seemingly nonchalant attitude towards a potential threat was simply asinine. "You done? Yeah? Good." She was tired of feeling like a third wheel, something that was all too familiar to her, held in her brother's shadow for most her life. She held up a finger to keep anyone from speaking as she listened. "Shots ended, but it doesn't mean the fight's over. If you're smart -- and it sounds like you are -- you'll stay on your guard until there's an all-clear." She was about to make some comment about Rick getting his ass kicked by some bad food mere hours ago, when Ace approached from the direction of the diner.

"Hope you folk are alright, second time today gunshots have rung out. Perhaps tomorrow I'll help that greenskin with that walk he's erecting." Ace said as he addressed the group.

Rick turned to him, "Well a wall would be a good idea. this little town has one area that it's mostly vulnerable at, it would be smart to secure it...Though seeing as the sun it's setting, some lights for the streets would be a good idea... anything could make it's way in here with the darkness...Sorry, where's my manners, my name's Rick, just arrived to this town."

"'Sup," Ace replied as he nodded an gave him a once over, "True about light, however we currently don't have power requirements to make them work. But it is being addressed, and we might soon have power to the homes and streetlights."

"Ace," Frieda greeted him cooly. The sense that she were surrounding by morons was rising. There was no way a self respecting -- or, at least, life-valuing -- officer of the Enclave would hear gunshots and assume "someone else" was handling it, and continue to just shoot the shit about town.

Keep it together, Richter. You need these people, like it or not. She lit up a cigarette, hoping it would somewhat calm her nerves. "Or," she couldn't resist, feeling punchy, "street lights would just make us a nice, bright, blaring target to the rest of the Commonwealth." Frieda blew smoke out the side of her mouth. "Sorry. I'm...not very fond of super mutants, docile or otherwise." She stooped to lean towards Ace. "How do we know he's not building this wall to lock us in until such time his more violent 'friends' appear, and wouldn't you know it, for some reason the gate just opened right up for them, but not for us to escape?"

Frieda sighed. "I know Brandy thinks highly of him, for...some reason...and I owe that girl a lot. She let me move in, and all. She's just so sweet. I don't want her to get hurt."

"Anyways." She turned to Rick. "You didn't answer my earlier question, but my offer still stands. Are you staying somewhere, and do you want me to walk you home? Either way, I'm heading off to get something to eat, see if I can't find Brandy, see what she's been up to, today." Frieda pushed the scissors she was still holding back into Arthur's hands. "I'll be properly armed tomorrow, I promise. If you've got another couple hours in you, come by the diner for a drink."

Eliza Weaver
S&W Weaponry, Salem, Massachusetts - mid to late afternoon

Eliza was still physically and mentally exhausted and with the effects of the stimpak starting to kick in she felt even groggier. Although she had found a small comfort in the fact that her leg had already started to feel better, it was being able to lay in Shelby's bed, her body melting into her sheets. She'd wanted to experience this moment since they departed from each other.

“I'm feeling really hot Shelby, so unless you have something extremely light for me to wear I think I'll just stick with this blanket.” Eliza cracked a little smirk as she pulled her top off and threw it alongside Shelby's bed, exposing her breasts but Eliza didn't seem to care. At this point she was too hot to care, and as much as she wanted to sleep with Shelby she wasn't going to be able to if she couldn't cool down for at least a little bit.

Eliza barely reacted to the sound of Waylon yelling up the stairs to Shelby. Even with the sounds of him coming up the stairs with a supposed guest she didn't make an effort to cover her exposed chest. Eliza didn't like to wear clothes, a trait she'd carried since she was young. So if she was going to be living with Shelby and Waylon than he was going to see them sooner rather than later. It was at the sight of their company that Eliza second guessed her decision and pulled the blanket up just enough to cover herself. “I'm sorry, I'm still really out of it.” Eliza's face was starting to blush, and she just wished she could hide her face in Shelby's arms like an embarrassed child. “Thank you for taking care of my horse. We've been through alot together. I take it you're familiar with them?”

Steve cooper-The Non-overcoating- Road into town/evening

“…the hell is going on, Steve?”

“Just some raider punks who thought they could extort the town, this one attempted to beg for mercy but he know the town’s location and that the wall isn’t finished.... not worth the risk.” Steve stated as he holstered his 50. Deagle pistol

Would have just gathered up some more raiders and attacked the town again...

Steve then turned to face overcoat except today she wasn’t wearing it... “You’re not” Steve stated as he checked out non-overcoat, somewhat muscular she was thinner than steve had expected, perhaps due to her suffering from malnourishment at somepoint? Her... assets were also larger than fly girl’s but not as big as Celeste. “Wearing your overcoat.”

“Guess I’ll have to come up with a new nickname for you then Non-overcoat.” Steve chuckled on as he winked at Lorelei.

Before Steve could say anything else an man around Steve's age with greying and hair and perhaps an trader of some sorts judging by the multiple pockets on his clothes ran up to see what was happening, "Hey! What is it, partner? Bandits? Mutants? 'claws, God forbid?"

You’d think we just be standing here if it was deathclaw’s?

“Just some raider scouts... Rook pretty much deracinated them single handily but this is the second time hostile forces have attacked the town today, next time we may be not be lucky enough for it to foolishly poorly armed Punks.”

“But I have idea, we got raider corpses here and atom cultists over there.” Steve said as he pointed to the dead atom cultist “we pick up their bodies and dump them on main road... make it look like they though each other.”

Bending down Steve picked up one of the raider’s rifle and examined the gun’s barrel... for an raider’s weapon it was in decent condition “with any luck they will blame each other for the attack and whilst they are busy getting revenge we can finish off the town wall.”

I can use this...

“Should also build some traps and turrets to guard us and any blinds pots we have until the wall is finished and then once built save us from having to man all of the wall 24-7."

should atleast have one person on the gate though.

Ace Makovich – Diner – Nightfall

"Or, street lights would just make us a nice, bright, blaring target to the rest of the Commonwealth." Frieda blew smoke out the side of her mouth. "Sorry. I'm...not very fond of super mutants, docile or otherwise." She stooped to lean towards Ace. "How do we know he's not building this wall to lock us in until such time his more violent 'friends' appear, and wouldn't you know it, for some reason the gate just opened right up for them, but not for us to escape?"

“Well Frieda, can’t expect us to live in darkness and fear forever. That’s why a good town defense will be necessary. Rook seems on the up and up, plus, in all my experience I’ve never seen a mutie think ahead that far. Besides he was asking help with gate since he didn’t really have an idea for it. I on the other hand have quite a few and will design it…though I could be plotting with him to lock you all in and save myself.” Ace winked at her and laughed.

Frieda sighed. "I know Brandy thinks highly of him, for...some reason...and I owe that girl a lot. She let me move in, and all. She's just so sweet. I don't want her to get hurt."

“Look Brandy can be like that. She won’t get hurt if I have anything to say about it… besides I’m not saying I trust him completely. I just want Salem to be a safe place, where one can feel secure but at the same time feel free, not boxed in like Diamond city or Starlight city for that matter; all tall buildings and so many people living in a small space.”

"Anyways." She turned to Rick. "You didn't answer my earlier question, but my offer still stands. Are you staying somewhere, and do you want me to walk you home? Either way, I'm heading off to get something to eat, see if I can't find Brandy, see what she's been up to, today." Frieda pushed the scissors she was still holding back into Arthur's hands. "I'll be properly armed tomorrow, I promise. If you've got another couple hours in you, come by the diner for a drink."

Rick looked at Frieda and shook his head no and pointed toward Mary’s house, “Mary was gracious enough to offer me a place to spend the night, I can figure out the long term stuff later. Home’s right there so no escort necessary miss. But much obliged on your offer.”

“Oh Frieda, if you’re looking for Brandy, after we finished she said she was going over to the inn. Who knows why…” Ace replied as he turned to make his way back to bar, he addressed Rick, “Come on new boy, first drink on the house, if you can handle it.”

Well, that was all quickly wrapped up, wasn't it? Rook seemed to relax a bit and they started talking about making it look like a fight was staged. This was something that he was not really sure about, but he planned on helping if it could aid the town over all. He looked out over the landscape for a moment and then back to the others.

“Looks clear right now. Have to find good place to make it look like fight happened then. Rook will get back to wall. If anyone knows how to weld, bring welding things with you. Rook founds lots of metal and wants to get this up quickly. Faster wall is set up, faster town is able to defend itself from bigger threats..”

Adam had arrived as well, asking about Deathclaws or what happened. Steve answered before Rook could, and oddly gave him the credit that was due. That was something he was not used to. Rook smiled a bit and then looked back to the beach where he had the docked up barge. Ok, now he had to get to work. Rolling his shoulders, Rook walked the Inn once more, but instead of stopping at the door, he walked a little bit past it, to the ruined truck that was next to the sign. Stabbing his polearm into the ground, he opened the door.

Messing with the machine for a moment, he tore off the cover for the steering wheel. Using a small knife, he jammed it in where the 'key' went and got it to move one spot. He had seen this done a few times to help move off old cars. Pressing down on the left side pedal, he would force it to 'shift' as they had called it, moving it until he felt it slip slightly. Now it was 'neutral' as he had been told, and when he let go of the pedal, it was able to roll. Well, at least it was when he put a lot of force into it. Ancient, badly rusted parts had been forced to let go and move, and much like before, it took a bit to get it going, now he was going to get this down to the area for the gate. When he got it where it was going to rest, Rook shifted it, physically this time, onto it's side.

The first bit of wall was made on this end, now it was going to be up to the others to help him get it all set up. Hopefully others would arrive soon.

FRIEDA RICHTER - Salem -- early evening

“Oh Frieda, if you’re looking for Brandy, after we finished she said she was going over to the inn. Who knows why…” Ace replied as he turned to make his way back to bar, he addressed Rick, “Come on new boy, first drink on the house, if you can handle it.”

Frieda clamped her jaw shut, her irritation about to hit a boiling point a second time, and didn't want to engage. Darkness and fear? Has he looked around, lately? Defenses were one thing, but it's not like the surface was much of a paradise. Clearly she was mistaken that Ace could have a reasonable head on his shoulders.

Moronic muties and their attempt at civilization.

Brandy was a sweetheart but it was a wonder she hadn't been ripped apart by, well, anything out there, yet.

She almost felt homesick. Mostly, she missed her brother. It was amazing how alone a person could feel without their best friend.

Frieda opened and closed her hands. "Oh, okay," she tried to sound grateful to Ace but had no idea how her voice really came out. She turned back to Arthur once more, her demeanour visibly changed. "I'm going home to raid Brandy's fridge, then I'll be at the diner, if you still want that drink." She finished her cigarette, flicked it to the dirt, and quickly took her leave.

Frieda entered Brandy's house and pulled the screen door shut behind her, letting out her aggravation in a growl-sounding sigh. If I had a single iota of a lead as to where you could be, Brian, I'd torch this place and run to you. She rubbed her brow with the back of a hand and swept into the kitchen. She nearly stumbled as she saw Brandy had been cooking. Some kind of crunchy coated animal protein was sitting on a baking sheet on top of the stove.

She cautiously approached the food, leaning over it, and giving the air immediately above it a hearty sniff. It sure smelled...edible. Her stomach growled in response but her mind screamed to avoid it.

It just looked too damn good.

Frieda picked up a drumstick and took a very small and cautious bite. It wasn't long before she was tearing through the entire thing, leaving nothing but a fully cleaned and discarded bone behind. She chewed on the last of the cartilage as she gazed out the window into the sky.

Mutie trash, all of them. Well, except Brandy, but damn if I didn't want to punch the living daylights out of her date back there. Her thoughts immediately jumped to the doc and how he happily treated that wasteland scum without charging them a dime.

She frowned. If she was going to be stuck on the surface for the rest of her life, maybe Arthur had some advice to share on dealing with the wastelanders. She wiped grease off her fingers onto a nearby dishcloth then ascended the stairs to her room. Frieda quickly snatched up her plasma pistol and put it on her belt, where it belonged, brushed her hair out in the bathroom, then left for the diner.

Frieda entered the diner and sat herself at the bar. A girl, no older than eighteen or nineteen let out an annoyed sigh, and tapped a pen on a paper pad. "Whaddaya want, toots? The boss told me to close up."

Frieda blinked. "Do you want my business, or not?"

"Ugh. So what do you want?"

"I'll take a beer, and it's on his tab," Frieda pointed at Barney sitting down the bar.

"It sure as hell is not!" Barney growled in response.

"Take it out of my first pay," Frieda replied, waving him off. "Beer. Now."

The girl rolled her eyes and plunked one onto the bar in front of her.

"Thank you," Frieda purred, smiling to herself as she noticed the waitress didn't even open the bottle for her. She twisted the cap off with little effort and took a sip. She hoped Arthur would take her up on her offer. She needed some intelligent conversation.

Dr. Arthur West - Salem Church Clinic Front Door

“Well Frieda, can’t expect us to live in darkness and fear forever. That’s why a good town defense will be necessary. Rook seems on the up and up, plus, in all my experience I’ve never seen a mutie think ahead that far...”

"You'd be surprised," Arthur pipped up, once Ace had finished speaking, "They possess a remarkable brutish cleverness, and certainly are capable of laying a trap or an ambush. However..." He paused for a few seconds, thinking over his next words carefully, "I'm less concerned about the possibility of Rook trying to lull us into a false sense of security than I am about the possibility of him turning aggressive at some point. Its odd that he's remained docile for so long and its well...an anomaly. Perhaps...perhaps I might have the chance to examine him at some point? As a precaution?"

Arthur didn't get an answer to his question as Ace had continued on, only turning back to ask Rick to join him. Meanwhile, Frieda was stewing in clear distaste, having apparently been angered by what Ace had said. She turned to Arthur with a huff and said,

"I'm going home to raid Brandy's fridge, then I'll be at the diner, if you still want that drink." She finished her cigarette, flicked it to the dirt, and quickly took her leave.

"Right, I'll uh...see you there then," Arthur replied with an unsteady wave. He then returned to the inside of the clinic and finished up the remaining work he had in mind for the day, which mostly included ensuring that the girl, Summer, was still stable and able to take care of herself. The fresh bandages and medication she'd received was already visibly improving her condition. Confident that she would be alright by her lonesome and thus give him a few hours of respite, Arthur packed up some of the excess equipment that had been strewn about in the chaos of the morning's events, closed up the clinic, and took the very short walk over to Ace's diner.

Once there, he saw that Freida, just as she'd said, had made her way over to the bar and was nursing a beer. Hesitantly, Arthur approached, and sat down on the stool next to her. Before he could say anything, a young woman approached from behind the counter, carrying a notepad and looking rather disinterested,

"What'll it be Doc?"

"Pardon?" Arthur replied.

The girl rolled her eyes at him,

"What do you want to drink?" She asked, enunciating the question more slowly this time.

"Oh...uh..water, please. Just water. Make that purified water if you have it," He said with a nervous smile. Once the waitress had left, he turned his attention back to Frieda. He cleared his throat, and did his best to break the silence with conversation,

"They are quite fascinating you know," He began cheerfully. He then lowered his voice, leaned in, and whispered the next few words more softly, "...wastelanders that is..." With a nod, he sat back up and continued talking normally, "You can live among them for months and come to the likely conclusion that they're a very simple people, and yet....they still find ways to surprise you. Take this diner for instance, I would never have imagined that out here there would be such a thing as an old-world style diner. Serving, umm...delicious food. Well, serving food anyway."He chuckled to himself and looked around, taking in the sights and smells of the diner around them.

"What about you? What do you think?"

Eric had been asleep in the morning, and woke up in the late afternoon. He was quick to get up and check his surroundings. So far, all was well. His eyes darted around and then he grabbed up his gear. It only took a few minutes to get his armor back on, reload his weapon, and then get outside. He was lucky, it was not too bright outside, but it was annoying none the less. He had to keep moving no matter what. Pulling out his sunglasses, he would start back on the trail towards the place known as Salem.

Lucky for him, he was not too far from it at this point. He had spent a good part of the night headed up that way, and when you don't run into people, it makes life a lot easier. He was able to pick up his pace as well. There was no signs of people near by on the road, and he could jog for a part of it. The remaining road signs told him about how much longer he was going to need to travel, while it was still a ways, he was ahead of his original time line. It wouldn't take too long for him to reach where he was going to end up at.

The idea of settling down some where outside of a Vault was still an odd idea. Most of the Dwellers had no idea what to expect out here, even the ones who lived in scrap metal town outside the door were going to be in for a rude shock when they got further out. Right now, it was a lot of luck from the Minutemen, the Lone Survivor, and a few other small groups they had even gotten this far. Eric stopped at the edge of a ruined building, listening to the sounds out there. So far, it was pretty silent. That was... Not always a good thing in truth. He had learned that not too long after arriving in the wastes.

Waling with rifle slung, he walked with pistol in hand, his knife close by just in case he needed it. He wasn't like some of the other dwellers who had been sent out as well, they listened to the radio, and the few times he had listened to radio freedom it had helped him in the long run, he decided most of the time, it was not worth it unless he was in a city. Then it seemed a bit better of an idea at very least. He continued down the road, watching for any traps or ambushes, he was less than a day away now from Salem, it was going to be nice.

Lorelei Jones – Salem Entrance

“They’re just some raider punks who thought they could extort the town. This one attempted to beg for mercy, but he know the town’s location and that the wall isn’t finished.... not worth the risk.”

Lorelei scratched her head. “Huh. Okay.” She tossed her rifle around her back and grimaced at the corpse. “Just a few days into the honeymoon, and reality is already at our doorstep.”

Steve then turned to face “overcoat”, except today she wasn’t wearing it... “You’re not…--” Steve stated as he checked out non-overcoat, she was somewhat muscular but thinner than he had expected, perhaps due to her suffering from malnourishment at some point. Her...assets...were also larger than 'fly girl'’s but not as big as Celeste’s. “…wearing your overcoat.”

Lorelei turned her gaze away from the raider’s crumpled form to make eye contact with Steve, except his eyes were elsewhere. They were fixated on her chest. Is something wrong? She looked down at her bosom. She closed her eyes and let loose an exasperated sigh. Oh, for fuck’s sake. She had thrown on her white tee without thinking about the fact that her skin was still damp from the sweat she'd accumulated in her sleep. Somehow, she’d known in the back of her mind that neglecting to bring her iconic jacket would wind up biting her in the ass.

“My eyes, Steve. They’re up here.” Lorelei pointed at her two green orbs.

“Guess I’ll have to come up with a new nickname for you then, non-overcoat.” Steve chuckled as he winked at Lorelei.

Lorelei offered a humorous half-smile. “That’s a mouthful. 'best come up with a better one.”

"Hey! What is it, partner? Bandits? Mutants? 'claws, God forbid?" An unfamiliar, but rugged-looking gentleman came hollering and sprinting into the fold.

Lorelei kept her arms folded across her chest – fifty percent intended to look confident, fifty percent to cover up the fact that she had woefully miscast her attire for the situation. She smiled at Rook before looking back at the crumpled corpse. “Uh…apparently, we’ve got a nest of rodents nearby, and Steve decided to ruthlessly murder their messenger-boy.” She shrugged. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

After a few moments-worth of studying the man, making direct eye contact with him a few times, she stepped forward and offered her hand, keeping the other still awkwardly folded over her chest. “Lorelei. Lorelei Jones.”

Adam 'Trails' Wilford

Adam nodded to Rook and looked over at the woman that began speaking to him, “Uh…apparently, we’ve got a nest of rodents nearby, and Steve decided to ruthlessly murder their messenger-boy.” She shrugged. “Nothing out of the ordinary.” and Adam frowned as the man named Steve was suggesting playing dress up with those bodies. "That's a dumb idea, hoss. They sit near our walls and they start looking at the bullet wounds, it wouldn't take a rocket scientist to put two and two together who's killing their boys." He kept silent on how he figured what'd happen and Steve spoke as he bent down, picking up a rifle by the raider's corpse,“With any luck they will blame each other for the attack and whilst they are busy getting revenge we can finish off the town wall.” Adam snorted, "Yeah, if they're drugged up rape fiend raiders. But if they're a band worth their salt, they're going to start sniffing around. Steve continued on, “Should also build some traps and turrets to guard us and any blinds pots we have until the wall is finished and then once built save us from having to man all of the wall 24-7." Adam nodded, "Yeah. That's one side. Take a look around you, we're surrounded on three sides by water. We'll still need foot patrols along the coastlines. Then there's the gate into town, that'll need siege reinforcements. Too many good towns have fallen overlooking the importance of a strong gate. Maybe weld sheet metal or weld some steel together and make something like those ancient castles. And a slit in the door that can be opened to look through when need be if there's no one on the wall."

Adam shook his head, upset all this fuss was over some dead wasteland raider. He turned to leave, accidentally bumped into the woman from earlier, "Er, sorry, Miss." After a few moments of her studying him up and down, she stepped forward and offered her hand, “Lorelei. Lorelei Jones.”. Adam nodded, "Right. Nice to meet you, Miss Jones. I'm Adam. You ever need anything, give me a holler. I own the white fishing boat, ain't a hard place to miss, kid." He walked on up the road, giving her a firm pat on the back like a comrade in arms as he passed. He felt a little bad coming off as dismissive, but his mind was preoccupied with worry, wondering if that guy Steve hadn't sparked a war with these Raiders.

Mary Hawthorne - Her House

“It is a friend of mines, or rather Shelby's girlfriend Eliza owns him. She got shot up pretty good and ended up at the clinic. We just took her back home to our shop earlier and she asked about the horse because everything she owns is in the… saddlebags I guess.” the man replied with a shrug. He then paused and took a long look at her, and seemed to like what he saw. This stirred some feelings in her she hadn't felt since before the radiation had turned her original body into a ghoul. It was then that she noticed he was rather handsome, in a roughhewn sort of way. A fantasy of him throwing her over the saddle in the living room, hiking her shirt up and taking her as she held on for dear life popped up unbidden in her mind...she quickly pushed it back down, though she found the idea quite arousing even as she knew it was a dangerous and unnecessary distraction. “Sorry, yeah, I'm sure she would like to thank you herself.”

"Sounds good", Mary said. She stepped back into the living room and picked up the saddle and brought it outside. With Waylon's help she re-saddled the horse and put his bridle back on, then they followed the man across town.

“Right this way, our shop is down the road", he said. "By the way, I'm Waylon.”

"My name is Mary...Mary Hawthorne", Mary replied, "good to meet you Waylon."

“Looks like you've been set up here for a little bit", Waylon said, "Surprised I haven't seen you around town.”

"I've been here a few days", Mary replied, "Been busy cleaning up my house. It was dusty enough to choke a mule."


S&W Weaponry - Several minutes later

“No...um...", Waylon said to Shelby nervously, "She was taking care if Eliza's horse and would like to meet her. She had the saddlebags too.” He shot Shelby a look, she quickly returned it. to Mary, it was clear that the two were probably lovers. And Shelby looked like a willful one indeed, it would probably be wise to steer clear of Waylon if she were to take a lover here...as bad an idea as that was given what her interests were.

“We just got her upstairs and situated, she wants to rest, so…” Shelby shrugged, “I don't know how talkative she'll be, but c’mon.” Shelby led them to her bedroom where Eliza laid, “Hun, Waylin found your horse and stuff. This woman, Mary was taking care of him.”

Mary was ushered into a bedroom, where a young woman, that was clearly in a bad way, was lying. A blanket covered her up partially, but her bare breasts were clearly visible. Mary had slept with a woman before, her teacher in the Arcane had taken her to her bed as a way to teach her to set aside her inhibitions and prepare her mind for some of the things required to master her craft...while the sex was pleasant enough, women didn't really interest her in that way, she had always preferred men, even if they weren't exactly human on occasion. The woman looked around groggily, then noticed her and self-consciously pulled the blanket up to cover herself.

“I'm sorry, I'm still really out of it.” Eliza's face was starting to blush, “Thank you for taking care of my horse. We've been through a lot together. I take it you're familiar with them?”

"I am", Mary replied, choosing her words carefully, "We had several when I was growing up. folks around here don't seem to have ever seen one, so I decided I'd take care of him." she then added, "Cleaned him and your saddle up, too." She then stepped up to the bed and took the saddlebags off her shoulder and set them on the bed next to her.

"Here are your things", Mary said, "I had to borrow your gear for the horse and leather, but I didn't disturb anything else. I can continue to look after him for you until you get better...if you want."

Steve cooper- Rabbit – Evening

"Yeah, if they're drugged up rape fiend raiders.”

“They are drugged up rape fiend raiders, hell this moron though it be an good idea to attack an super mutant, a super fucking mutant with an baseball bat.... I highly doubt his friends are any more intelligent” Steve commented back as he pointed down the dead raider armed with an baseball bat. “Besides I only shot one.”

Cult on the otherhand might check....

Steve then suggested turrets and traps with the man also commented on "Yeah. That's one side. Take a look around you; we're surrounded on three sides by water. We'll still need foot patrols along the coastlines. Then there's the gate into town, that'll need siege reinforcements. Too many good towns have fallen overlooking the importance of a strong gate. Maybe weld sheet metal or weld some steel together and make something like those ancient castles. And a slit in the door that can be opened to look through when need be if there's no one on the wall."

Sieges? Castles? Where or perhaps I should say when does this guy think we are?

“Look pal we aren’t in bloody 12th century England and who the hell do you thinks’ gonna attack the town? The Enclaves 101st Sigma squad? I agree on having a strong gate, strengthen it against explosive too but we are mainly gonna be raider punks and whacko cultists... no need to go overboard on defensives...”

I doubt many of them can swim anyway..

Rook the super mutant then spoke up “Looks clear right now. Have to find good place to make it look like fight happened then. Rook will get back to wall. If anyone knows how to weld, bring welding things with you. Rook founds lots of metal and wants to get this up quickly. Faster wall is set up, faster town is able to defend itself from bigger threats...”

“I can weld but don’t have a welder so will have to build one after the turret.” Steve replied pausing for an few second as he didn’t want to suggest getting her to help but with threat of attack everyone was needed “the twerp... err Brandi might know too I think, recall Acey saying she builds stuff”

Once rook and the trader man, Adam Steve overheard saying his name was walked off to continue on the wall or simply down the road Steve turned to non-overcoat, who was now covering up her raisins and briefly though of a new nickname for her.... Non-overcoat was indeed abit too long..

“Rabbit”

“That’s you new nickname.” Steve chuckled “but what do you think of my idea of setting the cult and raiders against each other? Despite what medieval said I doubt they would check the bodies wounds or alteast I doubt the raiders would.”

“Although if you think it’s a bad idea tell me and I’ll start building a turret instead, you can come and watch if you like... little guys have saved my life on more than one occasion so it’s convenient to know how to build one.”

FRIEDA RICHTER - Diner -- evening

"Oh...uh..water, please. Just water. Make that purified water if you have it," Arthur said with a nervous smile.

Water? Really? -- oh, wait. He doesn't have any money... Frieda raised a finger to call the waitress back but she'd already turned, with quite a bit of attitude no less, and walked off.

He cleared his throat. Frieda looked back at him, forgetting the waitress for a moment. "They are quite fascinating you know," He began cheerfully. He then lowered his voice, leaned in, and whispered the next few words more softly, "...wastelanders that is..." With a nod, he sat back up and continued talking normally, "You can live among them for months and come to the likely conclusion that they're a very simple people, and yet....they still find ways to surprise you. Take this diner for instance, I would never have imagined that out here there would be such a thing as an old-world style diner. Serving, umm...delicious food. Well, serving food anyway." He chuckled to himself and looked around.

Frieda softened. Enlightened perspective was precisely what she needed, then. "You don't disappoint, Arthur. Spoken like a true man of science." She took another sip of her beer. "...that was meant as a compliment..."

He didn't seem offended. "What about you? What do you think?"

"Me?" The truth, or what will keep me from being rushed out of town? "I suppose you could say I'm not so...optimistic." Frieda rested her bottle on the bar surface and turned it around in her hand. "Mind you, I was thinking about their," she paused to swallow a lump in her throat, "capability, myself, earlier when Ace came over to talk to us after the gunshots. Though mainly to the tune of, how do so many manage to survive, and keep surviving?"

She took another swig of her beer. "Though perhaps what you've said has quite a bit of merit. I hadn't thought of it that way, before. They figured out how to feed themselves, and each other, and turn it into some kind of trade based economy no less. Maybe there's some hope, at least, for some of them."

The waitress came back with Arthur's water and put it in front of him.

"Wait!" Frieda called before the annoyed looking woman could disappear. "My friend here needs a beer, too.
Something...sophisticated," she flashed a quick wink at Arthur before looking back to the waitress. "How about one of those stouts?"

"Those what?" the waitress all but groaned.

"Stout. It's a kind of beer, in this bar you work at?" Frieda couldn't contain her snippy tone.

"You make it sound like I should care."

"Ess, tee, oh --"

"Shut up, grandma," the waitress growled, placing a bottle of the dark beer onto the counter in front of Arthur.

"Oh, that goes on Barney's tab, too."

Barney wagged his middle finger at Frieda, who mimed a kiss at him. She twisted the cap off Arthur's beer, then held out her own. "Cheers."

"So, I'm interested to know, how did a sealed vault have so many scientific, or medical resources? Most, if not all, of them were set up to study certain phenomena of human behaviour, but our records allegedly showed that many of them imploded from the inside by one factor or another. That, or they opened to the world, and who knows what happened to those folks after that." She paused, then flashed a wide, genuine smile. "Sorry, I'm sure you're more than aware of the internal politics of a Vault, being from one, and all. But anyways, how did your Vault make it? Honest question."

Dr. Arthur West, Ace's Diner

"Me? I suppose you could say I'm not so...optimistic." Frieda rested her bottle on the bar surface and turned it around in her hand. "Mind you, I was thinking about their...capability, myself, earlier when Ace came over to talk to us after the gunshots. Though mainly to the tune of, how do so many manage to survive, and keep surviving?"

"It is surprising that they have, to be honest," He replied with a thoughtful nod, "Down in the...well down in the vault, we assumed most out here were mutated monsters, killers, and psychotic raiders. The odd rare settlement was just that, rare and certainly not the norm. But there are good people out here I've found. Or, at least, they try to be."

"Though perhaps what you've said has quite a bit of merit. I hadn't thought of it that way, before. They figured out how to feed themselves, and each other, and turn it into some kind of trade based economy no less. Maybe there's some hope, at least, for some of them."

"I used to think they were the relic of a bygone age. Doomed to eventual extinction," Arthur remarked, a deep look of introspection crossing his face, "But now..well now I'm not sure. Perhaps...perhaps there is a chance that the surface is not quite beyond saving, and maybe its our duty to try and help them along...I suppose my medical work is my way of doing my part. Even if its only a small one."

By this point, the young waitress had returned with his water and Arthur gladly accepted it. But Frieda stopped her again,

"My friend here needs a beer, too. Something...sophisticated," she flashed a quick wink at Arthur before looking back to the waitress. "How about one of those stouts?"

"Oh that's not really ne..." Arthur was about to say, but Frieda had begun arguing with the waitress, and he thought it best just to keep quiet.

With an annoyed growl, the waitress had returned with a bottle of dark beer, and placed it on the table in front of Arthur,

"Thank you..that's...rather kind of you," He said, trying to be as gracious as he could to Frieda, and not wanting to let on to the fact that he really, really, wasn't all that fond of surface beverages. The last beer he'd had, which a Commonwealth farmer had offered to him as payment for helping his sick child, was irradiated and had come in a filthy re-used bottle. It had nearly caused him to vomit..not to mention the fact it had been flat...

Frieda twisted the cap off for him and then held out her beer, "Cheers," she said.

"Oh..um..of course," Arthur quickly grabbed his bottle and clinked it against hers, "Cheers."

Hesitantly, and with all the care he might take when handling a solution of hydrochloric acid, Arthur slowly brought the bottle to his mouth.

Curse my incessant politeness. He thought to himself.

The beer wasn't nearly as bad as he'd expected, and at least it was cold, but he could already sense the tell-tale metallic taste of radiation. It was only slight, but it was still there. He closed his eyes and tried to swallow it.

"So, I'm interested to know, how did a sealed vault have so many scientific, or medical resources? Most, if not all, of them were set up to study certain phenomena of human behaviour, but our records allegedly showed that many of them imploded from the inside by one factor or another. That, or they opened to the world, and who knows what happened to those folks after that." She paused, then flashed a wide, genuine smile. "Sorry, I'm sure you're more than aware of the internal politics of a Vault, being from one, and all. But anyways, how did your Vault make it? Honest question."

Arthur nearly spit out the beer he had in his mouth, and quickly set the bottle down. He'd been so focused on trying to act 'casual' when drinking it that Frieda's question caught him off-guard. He swallowed the beer in his mouth hard and nervously adjusted his glasses,

"Oh..yes...well," He began, trying to think of something to say, "I suppose...I suppose we were lucky. We had plenty of food, water, and power. Our D..Overseer was a brilliant scientist, most of us were scientists actually. I guess that must have been our...experiment. Yeah, you know, pack a bunch of scientists into a vault and see what happens, not sure what Vault-Tec was trying to accomplish with that one. We had also had robots to do most of the day to day things around the Vault, so most of use could just focus on our work. Just normal robots though, nothing really special about them."

He took another quick drink of the beer, nearly coughed that out as well, and looked back at Frieda,

"Good beer," He said, with a smile that was trying to hide a grimace.

Lorelei Jones – Salem Entrance

"Right. Nice to meet you, Miss Jones. I'm Adam. You ever need anything, give me a holler. I own the white fishing boat, ain't a hard place to miss, kid."

Lorelei said nothing, but offered a weak affirmative smile in Adam’s direction as he walked away. She’d only been in Salem for three days and this place was already turning her into a misanthrope.

“Rabbit. That’s you new nickname,” Steve chuckled. “…what do you think of my idea of setting the cult and raiders against each other? Despite what ‘medieval’ said I doubt they would check the bodies wounds, or at least I doubt the raiders would.”

Lorelei rolled her eyes. “’Rabbit’? Ugh. Thank god you aren’t a poet… A stanza from you would be suicide on paper.” She turned and watched Adam trek back into Salem proper, keeping her back facing Steve’s wandering eyes. “I don’t think your idea is wise, Stephen. I’ve spent time around this ‘cult’. They’re a strange bunch, but most of them are harmless. You would only risk making an enemy of them.” She reached into her pack for her bottle and took a large gulp of water.

“I’ll start building a turret instead. You can come and watch if you like... little guys have saved my life on more than one occasion so it’s convenient to know how to build one.”

Lorelei waved her hand dismissively while her mouth was full of water. Then she turned to look at Steve again. “No…I’m going home.” She looked down at the mangled corpse. “Looks like you get to clean up after yourself after all.” She gave a half-smile and trekked back home. Upon making it to her house, she immediately threw her coat back on with a scowl across her face. She supposed that it took wearing an oversized jacket to keep men like Mr. Cooper from eyeing her like a slab of meat. She rinsed out her mouth at the kitchen sink with water from her bottle and then made a bee-line for town square, leaving her front door wide open.

Upon returning to the town, Lorelei found that she’d severed herself from the excitement of the dead raider only to find herself at a loss of what to do next. When in doubt, Ace’s Diner. She took her time heading there, gazing up at the gargantuan apartment structures, which managed to stay held together after all these years. Perhaps she had made a mistake by claiming a house for herself – it would have been far easier to stay invisible if she’d tucked herself away on one of the high floors. No matter. Her scowling mannerisms were likely to keep folks wary of the Jones household... She just needed time to play her own game.

There was no escaping it -- Lorelei was tired. She'd slept for an entire day and yet her energy threshold was somewhere down in the underworld. Perhaps it was her body's lethargic response to life in a town as thus-far dull as Salem. Only time would tell.

Lorelei waltzed into Ace’s Diner and found herself a barstool. She sat there and rested her head against the bar for a little while, warming up the frayed red cover of her seat, before she finally looked up again. She mumbled her order for anyone working that might have listened. “Mutfruit milkshake, please…and if you could sprinkle some rum onto that sucker, I’ll love you for all eternity.”

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

Sara replied in a reassuring tone. “We'll be alright Celeste. As long as I'm staying here I'll keep an eye out for you…it's the least I can do after all.”

Celeste nodded wordlessly. Suddenly, Brandy burst in, slamming the door behind her causing some glass jars in her basket to rattle. “Not again, twice in one day?” She appeared calmer when she saw Sara. “Hi Sara, Celeste you look great. I sure hope this stuff stops outside.”

Celeste tucked some curls behind her ear and smiled bashfully. "Do you think so? Thanks, Brandy! I've got a date tonight," she giggled.

She sat her picnic basket on the counter, “Oh Celeste, thank you for the wheelchairs. I fixed two up and Shelby's girlfriend Eliza was allowed to leave the clinic because she didn't have to walk on her injured leg.”

"Gosh, Brandy, you're so handy. Makes me a little jealous. I did make these scones, though. You should help yourself."

Steve bumbled past and made some comment to Sara about shoes, then addressed her as 'madam'. “Madam, Rook is currently eliminating some raider scouts we spotted from the roof; please do not worry about the noises....They will be dead pretty quickly.”

“How about I shove one of these feet up your ass and then you can talk to me about the rules of combat!?” she replied. Steve was already out the door, and didn't hear.

Celeste smiled at Sara. "That's a funny idea. How would you ever get a foot up a butt?"

Celeste peered into Brandy's picnic basket. "I'm gonna be nosy and ask, what'cha got in there?"

A final, particularly loud and close sounding gunshot rang out. Celeste gripped the edge of the counter and blinked, suddenly paralyzed in fear. "Oh my god, oh my god! I thought this town was going to be safe!" she squeaked.

"Good heavens, what seems to be --" Archie's electronic voice came from behind Celeste.

"AHHHHH!" she screamed, nearly jumping out of her skin.

"Manager Celeste! Are you in distress? Your skin is pale and clammy."

"You scared the daylights out of me," she panted in response, clutching her chest.

"My apologies, Manager. What seems to be the trouble?"

"Gunshots, outside. Where have you been?"

"Re-organizing the basement. No matter, though. Shall I investigate, as before?"

Celeste looked between Brandy and Sara. "I...I don't know." She gazed, wide-eyed and scared, at Sara. "Do you think we're in danger?"