FRIEDA RICHTER - Diner -- evening

"Oh..yes...well," Arthur began, "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.

Frieda wouldn't be convinced. She gently removed the beer from his hand. "I shouldn't have assumed and asked you what you liked, first." Someone else drew up to the bar and asked for a 'mutfruit milkshake with rum.' Frieda gestured in that direction. "Would you rather have one of those? Don't be shy, I can tell you're just trying to be polite. Order whatever you want."

She finished off her beer and moved on to Arthur's discarded stout. "Whatever Vault-Tec was trying to do, it must have worked. You definitely don't talk the same as any other surface...person." She caught herself before she said something derogatory. "'Normal robots,' now that's funny. As far as I know, only that 'Institute' played around with the people-bots. But you can shoot them dead just like the rest of 'em," she shrugged. "I overheard some of the other officers talking, once, saying some of them were programmed to think they were people, had no idea they were robots. Something like, they would break and bleed just like flesh and bone, and they never knew they were anything but a regular human." Frieda nudged him playfully in the arm. "I bet you've stitched up a couple out here in the wastes and never knew it, huh?"

What am I doing?

She stopped herself before she could embarrass herself further. Frieda took a slow draught of the stout. "It's a little fascinating, how they've managed to dig themselves out of near-annihilation and all. I love it and hate it, you know? But I'm presumed dead, and frankly, I don't want to go back. There was nothing left for me, there. What's the point of considering yourself greater than the rest of the population, if you won't value your own kind?" She paused, brooding.

Ace Makovich - Diner - Nightfall

Ace stepped inside the diner with Rick following close behind. Rick took a seat at one of the booths and Ace made his way behind the counter. He instructed Betty serve Rick. He grabbed a paper and headed back outside. He sat on the ground in front of the diner, took out a cigarette and lit as he perused the paper.

The sun was going down, and soon it'd be dark. There wasn't much in it aside from the going on of the settlements. Nothing out of the ordinary, or at least nothing he cared about. As he sat on the ground, Lorelei walked in, not even looking acknowledging him. Ace just shrugged is shoulders, and took on last long drag from his cigarette.

He slowly let out the smoke and headed inside.Betty walked over to Lorelei, whom proceeded to order, sort of. She mumbled her order, “Mutfruit milkshake, please…and if you could sprinkle some rum onto that sucker, I’ll love you for all eternity" Ace motioned to Bety that he'd assist her, and she was more than happy to oblige.

"Well now, don't be making promises you can't keep. How bout you love me for half an eternity, after all, I may get tired of you." Ace replied with a smirk on his face as he walked over to the coffee maker and poured a cup. He placed it in front of Lorelei, "Here, looks like you need a pick me up."

Ace gathered the ingredients for the shake and began preparing a her a shake. He hummed to the music and laced the finish product in front of Lorelei. He put a double shot of rum in it, and then placed another shot next to it. "Don't forget your promise now, you hear," Ace winked at her. as he took a seat behind the ciunter, next to the radio.

Dr. Arthur West, Ace's Diner

"I shouldn't have assumed and asked you what you liked, first. Would you rather have one of those? Don't be shy, I can tell you're just trying to be polite. Order whatever you want."

"No, no this is fine," Arthur replied quickly, "Really, its...good." He took another sip, but could hardly hold back a gag, which translated to a very odd gulp as he swallowed the liquid. He then pushed the bottle away, resigning himself to the fact that he wasn't going to finish it, "I'm uh...just not a very big drinker," He said, trying to offer an explanation. He wasn't lying of course: he wasn't a drinker, rarely even touching The Institute's synthesized alcohol, but that wasn't the main reason for his discomfort.

She finished off her beer and moved on to Arthur's discarded stout. "Whatever Vault-Tec was trying to do, it must have worked. You definitely don't talk the same as any other surface...person. 'Normal robots,' now that's funny. As far as I know, only that 'Institute' played around with the people-bots. But you can shoot them dead just like the rest of 'em," she shrugged. "I overheard some of the other officers talking, once, saying some of them were programmed to think they were people, had no idea they were robots. Something like, they would break and bleed just like flesh and bone, and they never knew they were anything but a regular human." Frieda nudged him playfully in the arm. "I bet you've stitched up a couple out here in the wastes and never knew it, huh?"

"Oh well...I suppose its possible," He shrugged nervously, while his face turned a bit red from Frieda's touch. She was right. He almost certainly had at some point, in fact. He'd suspected a few now and again, but there was no way of knowing for sure without, well, an autopsy. Although, having lived around them so long, he and many in The Institute had become observant of Synth behavior, and there were some occasional things he noticed that could mean someone was one. A lack of a reaction to certain stimuli for instance, especially where medical treatment was concerned: small, subtle things that even the most observant person could still miss if they weren't looking for them.


"It's a little fascinating, how they've managed to dig themselves out of near-annihilation and all. I love it and hate it, you know? But I'm presumed dead, and frankly, I don't want to go back. There was nothing left for me, there. What's the point of considering yourself greater than the rest of the population, if you won't value your own kind?" She paused, brooding."

Arthur sat silent for a moment, thinking over what she'd just said. It was clear she was, in many ways, just as conflicted as he was about the wasteland. Most in The Institute regarded it either with playful curiosity, like Rick, or outright contempt and fear. The latter being far more prevalent. Arthur found he was straddling both simultaneously. The surface fascinated and disgusted him in equal measure, and he still wasn't sure which of those emotions might win out.

"If..you don't mind me asking," He began, hesitantly, "Why did you leave The E.." He stopped himself, realizing that prying ears and eyes were no doubt all around, and he'd gotten in the habit of always assuming someone might be listening, "..your people..that is, what made you leave? You say you don't want to go back...why?"

Rick Noel - Diner - Nightfall

Rick sat on the booth and what seemed to be a server approached him. Howver, unlike the friendly synth servers or those that he read of in books. She approached him, "So watcha want...come on."

"Ummm...sorry...ummm" Rick was blanking out, he really didn't drink.

"Oh my fuck...seriously. I do not have all night kid...come on." Betty answered gruffly, looking impatiently, tapping her foot.

"Ok, ok..." Rick stuttered. He remember reading of vodka and its manufacturing process. Rick looked back up to her, "I'd like vodka...and umm...some...nuka cola." He smiled at her and she just rolled her eyes. She soon returned and placed a cup with vodka and a bottle of nuka cola on the table. He did note that she didn't slam it as he would've expected... Could her attitude and way she behaved be an act?

He tried some of the cola by itself...it was far different than what used to be served in the Institute. It had a slight metalic tinge to it, but it wasnt bad. He also tried the vodka, and he started to cough as the buring sensation went down his throat. He wheezed, it was not what he was expecting. The institute distilled alcohol, the scientist though tended to prefer whiskey or scotch. He never developed a taste for alcohol, yet his intellectual curiosity wanted to see why people liked it so much, especially here in the wastes.

He mixed the two beverages, and forced himself to drink it, he surmized it would taste better if it was ice cold, and perhaps had some ice cubes. As he drank and the alcohol began to spread through his body the radio came on. The travis guy began to speak.:

"Ladies and gentlemen, Diamond City Radio has some breaking news for you... hold on to your hats, and try not to spill your drinks... As reported yesterday, the Minutemen launched a daring raid on the Gunner's Downtown Boston Oupost located a Mass Bay Medical Center..."

Travis paused for effect, "The Minutemen were succesful in disloging the Gunners and taking control of the location. According to reports the Minutemen suffered a loss of 14 troopers. Quite a few were injured, most with non life threating injuries. Although the gunners outnumbered the Minutemen, they were defeated by Colonel Preston's swift strategy. We tried to get an exclusive interview, but he had promised one to Piper, Editor-in-chief of Publik Occurences."

"Gunner losses and injuries were severe, no official record, but losses are reported to be around a hundred. Captured Gunners are slated to be placed on trial and those deemed guilty of egregious crimes against the Commonwealth will be hanged...Hold on a minute folks...Just received another report...It is estimated that a large number of Gunner escaped, and where headed north. Folks living in the northern parts of the commonwealth are advised to be careful, and if you see anyone strange, report them to authorities. If we receive any other news, we'll be sure to let you know."

Steve Cooper - Evening

Rabbit 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.

“Nah... I’ll leave it for the hotel’s robot, probably the only thing those general atomics trashcans are good at.” Steve replied before turning back to the raider corpses “Probably should give one to the doc though.” He muttered to himself with rabbit a good distance away now.

Before that however Steve partook in the long standing tradition of looting the people you kill! or well watch being killed in this case. Searching the raider corpses Steve was able to find a handful of bullets, a small bag of drugs and a pair of semi-decent boots.

Should give these to fly girl hehe

Finding nothing else of value (or alteast to Steve) he stood back up and strung the rifle he’d taken earlier around his back before picking up the raider corpse that rook had punched in the face. Although the raider's face was managed to hell compared to the other raiders this one had lost very little blood and whose body was perfectly intact, making him ideal "candidate" for a blood/organ bag.

With the (mostly) fresh raider corpse over his shoulder Steve slowly walked back into the town and towards the clinic. Pasting the diner along the way he noticed Rabbit had put her overcoat back on and that the doctor was there, chatting to hotshot and the guy who had been on the horse earlier on.

Walking by Betty called out to him “Hey Steve some harlots where here earlier on looking for you, I sent them to that your club.”

“Thanks B-Bomb.” Steve replied before calling out to the doctor “Hey doc I found you a blood bag, I’ll leave
them at the clinic for you.”

Making his way past the diner Steve entered the church and put the raider corpse down on one of the empty pew benches. With any luck the doctor should be able to get 2 maybe 3 prints of blood out of the raider's corpse.

Some use may come from the punk

Leaving the church Steve heading back to the pleasure den where very loud “grunting” and "moans" seemlying of pleasure could be heard coming from up stairs

“Hey Steve-o” Johnny, who was reading the diamond city newspaper behind the front desk called out “some more girls showed up apparently they saw your sign? Either way I’ve already got them working up stairs, some caravan boss hired them both for the whole night.”

“Dirty bastard” Steve chuckled “but we need people like them to spread the word about this place so make sure he get’s A-grade service.”

“Already handled but I was thinking perhaps we should get a radio ad too? That gun store has an ad on there so why not us? Maybe get one in newspaper too”

“Good idea but the town got attacked by raiders today so I’m gonna help out on defences first... no point building up the PD if some punks are just gonna burn it down.” Steve replied as he headed for the basement “call me if you need anything.”

“will do” Johnny stated as he turned back to reading the newspaper "looks like those gunner guys got beaten."

beaten by a bunch of farmers.. shameful disgrace of an merc company...

The basement of the pleasure den had not been cleaned out and was cluttered with various pieces of furniture, clothing and spare/scrap pieces & tools which they had cleaned out from the shops and (for now) dumped down here but in the centre of room there was a small, cleaned out space with a wooden table in the middle.

Time to build a turret... Swallowing a mentat pill Steve picked up a sew machining that had come from the tailor shop and began to use it and various spare/scrap parts laying around the room to build an motor for the turret.

Motor, power supply, legs, gun, and then targeting system

Lorelei Jones – Drumlin Diner

"Well now, don't be making promises you can't keep. How ‘bout you love me for half an eternity, after all, I may get tired of you." Ace replied with a smirk on his face as he walked over to the coffee maker and poured a cup. He placed it in front of Lorelei, "Here, looks like you need a pick me up."

Lorelei smiled and nodded in thanks as she cupped her hands around the glass. “Deal.” She poked a straw into the shake and chugged almost half the drink in one pass. Regret—in the form of a brain freeze—instantly punched her in the face and she pushed it away, pressing her fingers against her forehead in exaggerated agony and leaning back against the table. Once she rebounded from the freeze and learned her lesson, she spent a while casually sipping at the drink while she watched the other tenants in the diner.

Doc West sat at the other end with the rather intimidating-looking woman she’d seen on her first night in Salem, and they seemed to be talking quietly and minding their own business. A rather erudite-looking gentleman—sporting a greasy haircut and big glasses—was there, too, sitting alone at one of the booths.

Barney was about, as well. Good. Lorelei caught his eye from across the bar and lazily waved him down as she continued to very delicately pick away at her mutfruit milkshake. The old coot sat on the stool next to her own. “What can I do ye’ for, miss…uh...what’s your name again, darling?”

“Lorelei.”

“Right. Silly me. Hard to forget a name like that. I trust you’re enjoying your stay so far?”

Lorelei shrugged. “Meh.”

Barney looked like his soul had been crushed before his very eyes. “ ‘Meh’? Why’s that?”

“It’s just like any other town, sir.”

“I’d say that this better than your run-of-the-mill shack-central, Miss Lorelei,” countered Barney.

“It’s pinned against the water in almost every direction. A few days in and we’re already seeing raider activity. God forbid, we really get attacked? Au revoir. I’ve traversed this whole territory. There were so many better places to pick from.”

“Salem is my home, miss. And someone with that attitude just doesn’t understand what it's like to set your anchor down. You’re worried about raiders? There’s something you can do about that…”

“Mhm...what does one have to do to join the militia around here?”

Barney pointed his index finger at Lorelei’s head and waved it around like an imaginary magic wand. “You are now part of the Salem Volunteer Militia. Which consists solely of myself and that fine woman over there.” He pointed at Frieda across the diner.

“Just like that?’

“Just like that.”

Lorelei smiled and took another sip of her shake. “I suppose it’s unpaid labor.”

“That’s right,” said Barney.

“In my spare time, I like to collect things…useless junk, really…would it be possible for me to clean up one of those old trays in the town square and occasionally barter my yields off?”

“Those old things? Sure, ma’am. Hell, if you’re good with a shovel and have a knack for dislodging rubble, you could even take up one of those collapsed storefronts if you get enough merchandise.”

“Hmm. All right. Thank you for the help.”

Barney gave a toothy grin. “Anytime, dear. I look forward to the growth of our fine militia.” He walked back over to his original spot.

Lorelei rested her head against the bar, and once again her serenity was interrupted. The radio had been turned up, and an emergency broadcast blasted into the diner.

“...Hold on a minute folks...Just received another report...It is estimated that a large number of Gunners escaped, and were headed north. Folks living in the northern parts of the commonwealth are advised to be careful, and if you see anyone strange, report them to authorities. If we receive any other news, we'll be sure to let you know.”

Lorelei rolled her eyes. It’s happening again. She sighed under her breath. This wasn’t her first rodeo. A three-person militia inside of a water-trapped town was about as attractive to a group of marauders as a wounded caribou to a wild pack of wolves. Still, if it came to that, she knew what she needed to do. There was no need for her to distract her concentration.

After a moment, Lorelei found herself peering at the odd gentleman at the booth, who looked clearly shaken-up by the broadcast. He looked strangely out-of-place. His aura seemed tacit and squeaky clean, which was something that could not be said for the others. Hmm... Lorelei grabbed her milkshake and shuffled over to Rick’s booth before sitting down across from him. She set her drink onto the table and took a sip from the straw, saying nothing. Her eyes studied him up-and-down as if she was looking at a mythological creature that had stepped out of a portal.

“I don’t recognize you.”

Rick Noel - Diner - Nightfall

Rick stared at his drink as he listened to the report. From the sounds of it, the Minutemen had done their job. However, Rick hated them, for they were the tool used by the devil to destroy his home and drive his people into exile. He gripped his cup firmly wanting to smash it but he controlled himself. He felt famished, starving, after all he had emptied his stomach. It wasnt smart to drink, luckily he had only had a sip.

He pulled two nutrient bars and wolfed one down. The second one he slowly ate. To a surfacer it would like a granola bar, which begged the question if surfacers knew what granola was.He shrugged his shoulders not caring. As he sat there slowly taking small bites, one of the women that was sitting at the bar sat in his booth, across from him. She stood out wearing an overcoat, a pale complexion and unkept hair.

Her eyes studied him up-and-down, “I don’t recognize you.”

Rick looked at her and adjusted his glasses. He kept silent and took a sip of his drink and abit of the nutrient bar. He put them down, like his lip, and patted them with a handkerchief to remove any crumbs. He was looking at his hands unsure what to say, but he kept his cool. He raised his eyes and looked at her over his glasses, "When one presents themselves before others, courtesy dictates one should first state their name."

He adjusted his glasses and lifted his face to look at her, "I do not recognize you either. For I have never seen you before. Therefore you wouldn't recognize me. However, if you must know whom am I, well my name is Rick, Rick Noel. I arrived to this town today. If you are with the welcome comittee, along with that Ace fellow, who offered me this drink, tahnk you for your kindness." He lifted his glass an took a big gulp before placing it down again.

FRIEDA RICHTER - Diner -- nightfall

"If...you don't mind me asking," He began, hesitantly, "Why did you leave The E.." He caught himself, "..your people..that is, what made you leave? You say you don't want to go back...why?"

Frieda offered a sad smile. "I appreciate your discretion. It's one of the swear words in the wasteland, but understandably so. Not many surface rats -- folks, I meant folks, live to tell about when we come to town." She pushed some hair off her shoulder and sat up a little straighter.

"I had a brother, a twin, born eight minutes after I was. We shared some sibling resemblance, but other than that, he was quite a bit different than I. More serious. Stronger, more resilient. He was quickly recruited for field ops, but I was more apt towards detail and the technical, so I was trained as a pilot." Frieda realized she was getting off track. "He was my best and closest friend. Probably the only one I had, in the end. He was favoured, I'm sure you can understand, because he was smart, strong, and quintessential...uh, tribe." She made sure to avoid the dreaded "E" word, as well. She smirked, again. "I never married, hardly dated. Men and women both almost always just tried to use me to get closer to him."

"Despite all that, though," she continued after another sip of beer, "he and his entire team went missing after an operation, and all they did was write him off. 'Missing, presumed dead.' He was one of the best in generations and no one gave a shit to look for him, let alone get his body back for a proper ceremony." Frieda clenched her fists and blinked back angry tears. "It just made me sick. Heh," she chuckled, "it still does."

She sniffed and flipped her bangs across her forehead. "Everyone moved on, almost like he'd never even existed. His shadow was lifted off of me and my life but I was still almost invisible and no one seemed to care that he deserved better. Hell, that I deserved better. So, I decided to search for closure, myself. If they wouldn't care, I would show Brian that I at least did. That I do."

“Hey doc," called a voice from outside. Frieda turned to see Steve standing there with a corpse slung over his shoulder. "I found you a blood bag, I’ll leave them at the clinic for you.”

Frieda took a slow breath, held it for a moment, then exhaled. Once the doc had responded and Steve had walked off, she continued. "Honestly, even if I wanted to go back, I'd be shot dead at the door. But if things don't work out, I just might go knocking. I'd rather be executed than die at the hand of...of one of them," she nodded towards the door, heavily implying a reference towards Steve.

"Would you both shut up?" hissed the rude waitress. "We're all tryin' to listen to the news."

Frieda stuck her tongue out at the waitress, then glanced over at Arthur to roll her eyes and wink. She hushed herself, though, to let the broadcast play through.

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

Brandy looked at the scones, she had never seen them before, “I would love to try one, I've never heard of them before but they look tasty.” She nibbled on a scone and enjoyed it as Steve walked by calling her a twerp, she frowned, “Jerk .” Steve then said something to Sara that she didn't fully hear as she was trying to ignore him.

“How about I shove one of these feet up your ass and then you can talk to me about the rules of combat!?” Sara snapped at Steve as he continued out the front door. Brandy let out a little laugh.

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

“I don't know how you would, but that was funny,” Brandy giggled.

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

“Oh, I have some fried chicken and moonshine that I made. I brought some for you to try, maybe later you can have some after your date.” Brandy smiled, “I hope you have a good time.”

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.

Brandy froze where she stood, just turning her head towards the door. “Me too,” she closed up her picnic basket, “This is terrible.”

Archie floated into the room and scared Celeste half to death. Brandy's mind raced with worry about Ace as Archie and Celeste spoke. 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?"

Brandy looked at Sara equally wide eyed, she scooped up her picnic basket, “I need to go, I need to find Ace and make sure he's alright. I think we'll be ok Celeste, Sara and the others took care of the other raid earlier today. But I really have to go. Have fun on your date Celeste. See you later Sara.”

Archie bid Brandy a good evening as she made her way to the door, “Bye Archie.” Brandy opened the door and poked her head out looking around. She took one step outside, listening and looking around again before she sprinted to the diner. She flew up to the door, grabbing the handle and was about to yank it open when she noticed Ace leaning against the corner of the building. “OH THANK GOD!!!” She quickly sat her picnic basket down and threw her arms around Ace. She buried her head in his chest, “I was so worried about you. The gunshots again, I'm so glad that you're alright.” She reached up and put her hands on his cheeks and kissed him.

“We should go inside, we'd be more safe in there with everyone.” she looked through the windows at the busy diner.

Ace Makovich - Diner - Night

“...Hold on a minute folks...Just received another report...It is estimated that a large number of Gunners escaped, and were headed north. Folks living in the northern parts of the commonwealth are advised to be careful, and if you see anyone strange, report them to authorities. If we receive any other news, we'll be sure to let you know.”

Ace listened to report and let out a loud sigh, "Shit, Minutemen sure ran them off. "

"Do...Do you think...Do you think they'll come here?" Betty asked as she leaned on the counter with her arms crossed. For once, Betty wasn't her "charming" self, she seemed worried.

"I could sugr coat it and tell you they'll most likely avoid us, but I can't. We are a new settlement, not well established at the moment..."Ace looked at her and she looked even more worried. Ace gave her a hug to comfort her, and stepped back, "Look, we'll be fine. Barney will do a good job keeping us safe, and we'll all have to be extra vigilant. Don't worry, I'll protect you, kiddo."

Betty smiled and thanked Ace. Ace looked outside, and it was getting dark. Things were too hectic, as everyone was pretty much just drinking and not eating. He pulled a cup and poured himself some of the moonshine. He took the cup and headed outside, he drank some of the shine, and it had quite a kick but the taste sure came about and mellowed as it made its way down his throat.

He lit a cigarette and started at the sky, and the stunning sunset. The orange and reddish hues in the sky as it slowly grew darker, and the light faded to nothingness. He took a gulp of his drink and followed it with a drag of his cig. He leaned his head back against the building and closed his eyes, he could feel himself mellowing out as a buzz was starting to develop.

He heard running feet and he turned his head to see what was making the sound. Brandy was running headed for his diner door. He looked puzzled, wondering why she was running. Before he could say anything she saw him, placed her basket down and threw herself on him, putting her arms around him. She buried her head in his chest, “I was so worried about you. The gunshots again, I'm so glad that you're alright.” She reached up and put her hands on his cheeks and kissed him.

"Of course I'm alright, why wouldn't I be? Do you mean due to those shots a while back? I think it was outside of town." Ace replied as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.

“We should go inside, we'd be more safe in there with everyone.” she looked through the windows at the busy diner.

He looked through the window, "Yeah why not." He opened the door and followed her inside. She took a seat on the counter, and went to the other side and poured her a drink of her moonshine, "Gotta say this stuff is real good. You said it's your pops secret recipe? Better watch out, I may try and get recipe from you." Ace smiled and laughed as he said that.

Betty came up by him and placed her hand on his shoulder, "Well...if it isn't miss sunshine."

Ace shook his head, he patted her hand, "Be nice, Brandy was just worked up before. Just let her passion get to her."

"Whateves... thanks for before Ace. Really put me at ease." Betty replied as she rolled her and then giving Ace a smile.

Lorelei Jones – Ace’s Diner

"When one presents themselves before others, courtesy dictates one should first state their name." Rick adjusted his glasses and lifted his face to look at Lorelei. "I do not recognize you either. For I have never seen you before. Therefore, you wouldn't recognize me. However, if you must know whom am I, well my name is Rick, Rick Noel. I arrived to this town today. If you are with the welcome committee, along with that Ace fellow, who offered me this drink, thank you for your kindness." He lifted his glass and took a big gulp before placing it down again.

Lorelei finished her shake and leaned back in her seat before outstretching her arms across the outline of her booth cushion. “Hmm,” she mumbled, which seemed both insightful and satirical all at once. She was good at reading people. Her mental acuity was perhaps the only thing she had going for her – her physical strength and endurance were sorely lacking and she had to make up for it by carefully constructing the paths before her. However, despite studying his facial expressions and carefully dissecting Rick’s mannerisms, she couldn’t quite pierce his nervous and almost innocent aura.

With that, Lorelei humorously bit her lip and folded both her arms and her legs. “Well, well, well. You’ve got manners on you...real ones...not just half-assed rituals that come with the standard-issue wasteland human. What universe are you from? Will you ever be able to get home?”

Lorelei gave a slight smile to indicate that her jesting had come to an end. “My name is Lorelei Jones. I’ve never heard of a ‘welcome committee’, but even if I did, I’d be the last person they would ask.”

After pursing her lips and perusing the diner, she narrowed her brow. “What’s your deal, Rick? Scholar? Or did you loot those glasses off a dead guy?”

Dr. Arthur West - Ace's Diner

"I appreciate your discretion. It's one of the swear words in the wasteland, but understandably so. Not many surface rats -- folks, I meant folks, live to tell about when we come to town."

And its certainly not the only one, Arthur thought grimly.

Arthur listened intently as Frieda told him about her brother, about how she'd looked up to him, and how he'd apparently gone missing while out on a mission. It was a heartbreaking story to be sure, and Arthur couldn't help but relate it to his own experiences.

"Everyone moved on, almost like he'd never even existed. His shadow was lifted off of me and my life but I was still almost invisible and no one seemed to care that he deserved better. Hell, that I deserved better. So, I decided to search for closure, myself. If they wouldn't care, I would show Brian that I at least did. That I do."

"Well if its any consolation," Arthur offered, "I understand how you feel. I lost someone as well. A very good friend of mine: a colleague, as a matter of fact, someone I trusted with my life...and who shouldn't have trusted me with his..."

Arthur might have gone into more detail than that, but he was suddenly (perhaps thankfully) interrupted by Steve, who seemed to be carrying an unconscious man on his shoulder....although a closer look revealed that he was as dead as a door-nail.

“Hey doc," he called out, "I found you a blood bag, I’ll leave them at the clinic for you.”

"Oh...well thank you I...wait what?" Arthur's eyes grew wide as he realized just what Steve had meant by 'blood bag', "Oh good lord!" He nearly shouted, "Don't take that..." his voice trailed off as Steve exited the diner, having either not heard or outright ignored his protest, "Good god I hope at least he has the common sense to keep that thing outside of the clinic..."

"Uh..sorry Frieda, you were saying?" He continued, turning his attention back to her.

Frieda took a slow breath, held it for a moment, then exhaled. "Honestly, even if I wanted to go back, I'd be shot dead at the door. But if things don't work out, I just might go knocking. I'd rather be executed than die at the hand of...of one of them," she nodded towards the door, heavily implying a reference towards Steve.

Arthur gave an understanding nod, "I...I see what you mean."

"Would you both shut up?" hissed the rude waitress. "We're all tryin' to listen to the news."

Frieda stuck her tongue out at the waitress, then glanced over at Arthur to roll her eyes and wink.

"Rather angry young woman isn't she?" Arthur remarked, before he too tuned into the radio announcement. Apparently, the Minutemen had assaulted a Gunner position somewhere in the city, and emerged victorious. Arthur didn't have much love for the Minutemen, not after certain events, but he knew that the Gunners were a far more present and insidious threat. That became all too clear as well once the radio DJ had stated that a group of them had escaped the attack and were likely to be heading north.

"Well that's not good..." He said, stating the obvious, "Gunners are well armed and well trained. Raiders are one thing...Gunners are quite another. Perhaps we should double the watch for tonight? Or...maybe even call for The Minutemen?"

Or maybe someone else... He thought, giving a glance over to Rick, A single Courser...that's all we'd need.

Rick Noel – Diner (being interrogated) – Night

Lorelei finished her shake and leaned back in her seat before outstretching her arms across the outline of her booth cushion. “Hmm,” she mumbled, which seemed both insightful and satirical all at once. With that, Lorelei humorously bit her lip and folded both her arms and her legs. “Well, well, well. You’ve got manners on you...real ones...not just half-assed rituals that come with the standard-issue wasteland human. What universe are you from? Will you ever be able to get home?”

Rick looked at her quizzically, not fully grasping what she meant, not understanding that she was joking. “Well astronomy has never been my forte, but if I had to say home, we share the same home don’t we. If I remember correctly, we are in Salem, located in the commonwealth, located on Earth. Which in turn is in the Solar system, located in the Orion arm of the Milky Way Galaxy. Which is in the Virgo cluster, within the Virgo Supercluster within the observable universe. “

After pursing her lips and perusing the diner, she narrowed her brow. “What’s your deal, Rick? Scholar? Or did you loot those glasses off a dead guy?”

Rick borrowed his brow, almost mimicking Lorelei, “What do you mean that I took my glasses from a dead guy? Wearing prescription glasses that were made for another will harm your eyes. I would advise against it. As for my deal, I have no deal, I am who I am. Just because the world went to hell in a hand basket, doesn’t mean everyone gave up on society.”

“Sure a vast majority chose anarchy and pursuit of self-pleasures. Some of us decided that we should continue living as humans always have. There’s no species no more capable of adaptability than humans; which is why we survived a devastating war. So excuse me, for wishing to be educated in a world where strength and cunning are revered as the main evolutionary traits all perceive as greatest. So to answer your question, I’m just a person living life as we truly should, rather than waste it on nothingness.”

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

Even though she said that she'd protect Celeste and her property. Sara wasn't anticipating the emotions she would feel when people actually turned to her for guidance. Her closest memory of such a feeling was when she was still running with her crew back west, but things were different now. She wanted to protect this place, and these two women. Celeste and Brandy weren't raiders, they hadn't bathed in blood like Sara had, their hearts were still pure and Sara didn't want to see that change. For whatever reason she cherished them for it but she couldn't piece together why. Either way she would act on her promise. Even if the rest of Salem was a shithole to Sara Celeste's Inn was worth fighting for.

“We'll be alright guys...I promise.” Sara walked over to Celeste and put an arm around her shoulders, while her other arm held her rifle with the barrel pointing towards the floor. “I'll hang out up here until things settle down. How's that sound?” She tried to set Celeste's mind at ease with a friendly and extremely unfamiliar grin. Before she let go of Celeste she rubbed her shoulder ever so gently and crawled up on the counter.

With her back against the wall Sara sat with one leg extended out on the counter, and the other bent resting on her foot, with her rifle rested across her chest at the ready for anyone that came into the lobby. Sara felt really weird after she comforted Celeste, almost like she was going to puke but she also felt an exhilarating sensation throughout her entire body that caused her to smile with the most genuine grin she could remember having. “I'll stay here as long as you need me to.” Sara said with a reassuring tone, almost as if she expected Celeste to not believe her. After all Sara had become well accustomed to people going back on their word the moment it became inconvenient for them.

CELESTE BROWN - Sandy Coves Inn -- dinnertime and about to be late for her date

"We'll be alright guys...I promise." Sara came behind the counter and gave Celeste a reassuring squeeze around the shoulders. Brandy took her leave.

"Ah, okay, bye, Brandy! We can catch up later," Celeste gave a short wave.

"Good evening," Archie added, as Brandy left, saying goodbye to both.

“I'll hang out up here until things settle down. How's that sound?” Sara grinned. Before she let go of Celeste she rubbed her shoulder ever so gently and crawled up on the counter.

Celeste gaped at Sara, finally realizing what it was she was doing. "O-oh! Okay! That's really nice of you!"

"It's entirely unnecessary," huffed Archie.

Celeste glowered at the robot. "You hush." She jammed her fists onto her hips, causing her curls and her bosom to jiggle. "You weren't anywhere helpful both times shots went off. If Sara wants to help protect us, then I don't see why not."

Archie seemed to pause. "Yes, well, whatever you like, manager. I was merely organizing this inn of yours for you, certainly not helpful. I'll just get back to doing that, then?" The robot turned and retreated back into the depths of the inn.

Celeste completely did not pick up on Archie's sarcastic, passive aggressive tone. She perked right back up, smiling and waving at him. "Oh! Well that sure sounds good. Thank you!"

She turned back to Sara, finally getting a glance at her. In her panic and fear she hadn't noticed that Sara had bathed. Her hair and skin was clean and smelled lightly of soap. "Ohh! Sara, you're already settling in and making yourself comfortable. That's delightful!" she smiled. Celeste adjusted her dress on her shoulders. She glanced at Brandy's picnic basket with regret. "That chicken sure smells great. Here, Sara, if you get hungry, please help yourself. I need to get going. I'll be back later tonight if you need me!"

Celeste stepped through the doors and into the twilight. The breeze off the water pushed her curls off her cheeks and smelled of brine and decay. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. "I better get going," she said aloud to herself. She walked through the town, watching people enter the diner and going about their evening routine. Soon enough she found herself at Adam's place. She pulled out the note once more, re-read it for a third time, and confirmed she was at the right spot. Her heart fluttered, thrilled and nervous at the same time. Celeste reached up and smoothed her hair, then her dress, and finally she knocked on the door.

"Adam, it's me, Celeste!" She paused. "Sorry if I'm late. There was a little bit of...ah...unpleasantness outside the inn."

Celeste stood quietly for a moment, shifting side to side in her nervousness. Finally, she knocked, again. "Adam? Are...are you there?"

FRIEDA RICHTER - diner bar -- evening

"Rather angry young woman isn't she?" Arthur remarked, before he too tuned into the radio announcement. Apparently, the Minutemen had assaulted a Gunner position somewhere in the city, and emerged victorious. The radio DJ had stated that a group of them had escaped the attack and were likely to be heading north.

"Well that's not good..." He said, stating the obvious, "Gunners are well armed and well trained. Raiders are one thing...Gunners are quite another. Perhaps we should double the watch for tonight? Or...maybe even call for The Minutemen?" Arthur turned to look across the diner at the patient from before, Rick.

Frieda raised an eyebrow. "What watch? If you think cranky over there," she wagged her beer bottle towards Barney, "is gonna pull a double overnight, you're dreaming. And I'm not sure how tough our friend over there is, after getting his ass kicked by his lunch." She glanced at the doctor's face and realized she was probably a bit harsh. "Sorry. I'm...not used to being surrounded by folks who weren't conditioned from childhood to have a tactical approach to things. You aren't wrong; sadly, we don't exactly have the resources for that, at the moment."

Hell, I'd be able to pull it off easily, if I had some of those boosters they used to pass around like candy back home.

"If they're retreating, it seems most likely they'd raid us for supplies and a place to lick their wounds. Though from what I know of the Gunners, they probably won't be nice about it. Many are armed and armoured and most seem coordinated enough to have paid attention to minimal training," she agreed.

Frieda downed the rest of her beer then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, a crass gesture, but she didn't exactly care at that point. "I need a coffee to go," she said at the grumpy waitress, then stood. "I'll walk you back to the clinic, if you like. It's on the way to Brandy's house. I'm going to pick up some ammo and a sweater, then take the first watch. Hey!" she barked at Barney.

"What?" was the gruff reply.

"Someone needs to take over my watch at around midnight. I'll be at the main road until then."

"...oh. Uh, right. Sure," Barney agreed.

The waitress plunked the coffee onto the counter, nearly sloshing it right out the top of the rims. "On the house, okay?"

Frieda blinked. What was with the sudden change of heart? "Well, all right." She took the mug by the handle and made her way to the door. She managed to juggle a smoke and her lighter out of her pocket while she walked down the street, carrying her coffee. As they drew up to the clinic, the trail of blood indicated that Steve had, indeed, dragged the body into the clinic. "For fuck's sake..." she muttered. "Hold this." Frieda pushed her coffee cup into Arthur's hands. "...uh, sorry. And this," she sheepishly gave him her still-burning cigarette.

With a grunt and a sigh, she picked up the pungent corpse by the shoulders of its shirt and pulled it along the floor and outside the clinic, dragging it back down the stairs and leaving it in the street. It was heavier than she had expected, but she managed. She broke a slight sweat with the effort. "I'll move it on my way back out to the main entrance, but at least it's outside, for now." Frieda held her hands out for her coffee and her smoke. "I'll take those back, now."

Rachel Wilson – Commonwealth

The cold, wet hallway echoed with her running footsteps and her hard breathing. The lights flickering as darkness crept in, the further she went, and farther and farther apart the working lights came. She arrived to a T and stopped not knowing which way to go. She had been running from floor to floor, trying to find an exit, and now it seemed she was trapped in the basement. She panted as she caught her breath and turned right. She stopped just to listen as she heard a voice.

“Come out; come out, wherever you are?” An angry raider shouted, as he banged a nearby pipe with the barrel of his shotgun. “Come on puppet, we won’t hurt you…much… I swear we’ll be gentle…”

Fear crept up on her, and she shivered, she started to run again. But she tripped on the broken up floor and fell forward slamming to the ground. She screamed in pain realizing she had twisted her ankle. She held her hands to her mouth hoping they hadn’t heard her. Tears were streaming down her face. She struggled to get up as she clawed away at the wall slowly made her way up, however the running steps were coming closer and closer.

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

Rachel slung her pack over her shoulder; she had been wandering the Commonwealth for a while now. There was lots of good loot available if you knew where to look. It had been a while since she had a good bounty, the Minutemen were pretty much taking up all the good jobs. She was always one step behind them. She regretted leaving them; after all it had been steady pay and work.

She had turned to scavenging in the past few weeks, traders always looking for one thing or another. It kept her well fed, but she wanted more, she wanted to settle down somewhere, lay some roots as they say. She looked through her other pack and took out a smaller bag filled with circuit boards. She showed it to the tin man, and he signaled for the gate to be opened. The door slowly moved on its track as it shifted from its position towards the right.

The Brotherhood had been a force to be reckoned with, but the Railroad planted a bomb on the airship, and it was destroyed. At least that was the official record, some say there had been a malfunction aboard or another group had destroyed it. They say the Railroad was blamed just so that they would have an excuse to destroy them. She didn’t care either way; she wasn’t a fan of those that loved synths.

Egret Tours Marina had become their only outpost in the Commonwealth. No one knew why they remained, but at least they brought some sort of stability to the area. Plus, they kept the Gunner’s from leaving their Plaza and reinforcing their forces up north. She walked inside the compound and went over to a line leading to a storefront, where the Brotherhood exchanged certain items for caps. They loved circuit boards, and she had made sure to always grab them when she came across them; no idea as to why they needed them.

As she waited in line, A vertibird soared above the compound and started to hover as it readied to land. It slowly descended and out came three fully armored Paladins, with two scribes carrying a woman in a stretcher. The Vertibird took off as an officer and medics ran towards the stretcher. It seemed one of the officers had asked why they had returned.

The one paladin removed her helmet, “Found her over at Milton General Hospital. We airdropped by hospital, and Dan must have landed on weak spot as he went through the ground into the maintenance tunnels. She had a broken foot, and there were a few raiders that were beating her and almost raped her. We sent them to hell. Got our gauntlets bloodied. They weren’t worth wasting bullets on.”

Rachel overheard them as they spoke. That girl had been lucky, and they even brought her via Vertibird, she had always wanted to ride one, they fascinated her how they stayed afloat. He moved forward as she was next in line, and handed the bag with circuit boards to the scribe standing behind the counter. She waited, and soon was handed a bag with caps, rolled up. The Brotherhood were trustworthy, but out of habit she ran her finger through the rolls counting the caps and making sure they were all there.

She had her caps, and stepped out of the line. She stepped through the open gate and looked behind her at the compound with its tall walls and strong gate. She wished she could join them, but as he had been told before, they weren’t recruiting at the moment. Had they been recruiting, she would’ve had to go to the Capital Wasteland for training.

She gripped her blade, and slung her SMG’s strap over her shoulder. Even though the Brotherhood had a presence here, the road was still treacherous. Especially since this are wasn’t patrolled by the Minutemen. She made her way north along a road that led to the train tracks. She followed the tracks for a while. She passed quite a few feral beasts, but they hadn’t taken notice to her. The yao guai was too busy attacking a Radstag to see her. The second one he had seen was busy chasing some feral dogs.

She soon found herself near Vault 81, she had an urge to go there, but needed to go down to the dock and see if there were any barges. To her luck there were three moored there. She approached the dock master, handing him some caps, and if there was one headed for Taffington Boathouse. He looked at his clipboard and pointed to the one headed there, to her luck it was departing now. She gave a crew hand some caps and made her way aboard. She found herself a spot, and leaned back to take a nap.

She was woken up when they were reaching the boathouse. The barge pulled to the dock, passing multiple water purifiers that had been setup, along with a pump house and bottling plant. She grabbed her stuff and got off the boat as it was docking, the crew hated when you did that. They rather you wait till it’s docked. Something about falling and being crushed.

She went inside the renovated house, and bought a 2lt bottle of water from a merchant. She made her way to the gate but a large caravan was arriving from Starlight City, looks like they were here to pick up water barrels, as the city grew, it needed more and more purified water, and the groundwater they were pumping wasn’t enough. The black clad Starlight City guards stepped off the caravan and they started to load barrels on their caravans. There was a rumor that their armor design was based off of that of Institute coursers. She had encountered one when she along with the rest of the Minutemen stormed the institute with the General, she was sure she was dead, but Colonel Preston had save her.

She looked at the guards, and the rumors were true, after all the design was menacing. The only discernible difference between an Institute courser uniform and one from Starlight city was the yellow Star of Bethlehem on their backs, along with two yellow stripes that ran along the side of the pants. Luckily, the guards themselves were friendly and not stuck up like those from Diamond City.

As she waited for the caravan to move out of the gate she overheard the guards talking to an officer. The officer was smoking a cigarette, “Covenant has buckled; they and their little Compound have joined Starlight City.”

The guard looked at the officer quizzically, “What do we need Covenant for? It’s a small settlement.”

“Well that small settlement is heavily guarded, and by chance there’s a pipeline that leads from underneath Starlight City to there, and it is intact. They discovered it, while they were preparing ground for some of the towers. This means we can build a pipeline from here to Covenant, which will connect to the city, and we can pump water.” He replied as he leaned against a cart.

“Why not just attack it and take it over?” Rachel asked as she walked closer.

The officer gave her a once over, “Because of their defenses. Any attack would’ve been costly. Besides they are controlled by a group called the Compound; bunch of scientists or something. Those eggheads are valuable. After all, some of the rumors are that Sanctuary Hills had some Institute scientist join them. So Mayor Goodall has made creating a scientific community within Starlight one of his priorities. Alright boys, enough blabbering, get back to work… Ma’am.”

Rachel nodded as they walked away. She hadn’t visited Covenant; hear they were pricks when it came to allowing people entrance to their community. She looked at her map, and decided to make her way to Greentop Nursery. It wasn’t that far from Taffington, only about an hour. There she could spend the night before she headed west.

Greentop Nursery was noticeable from other settlements, due to its wall being made up of scrapped cars. There wasn’t much of interest here aside from its farm. The Farm was one of the biggest producers of corn and gourds in the area. There was an inn that was built next to a pre-war house. She paid the caps for her room, and called it a day as she got on the bed, tired, her nap had made her more tired than rested.

Adam 'Trails' Wilford- Adam's shack

Adam listened to the gulls overhead as he quietly cleaned a small case containing a Pre-War American flag. Smiling at its cleanliness, he put it on the shelf over his cot when a soft knock hit his door and he contemplated reaching for his 10mm but the voice on the other side of his spoke a little anxiously, "Adam, it's me, Celeste!". He fumbled at the Radiation King across the room, reaching for the Holotape labeled 'Ellia's favorites' and inserted the tape inside. Celeste's voice on the other side continued as he tried to get the damn tape to play, "Sorry if I'm late. There was a little bit of...ah...unpleasantness outside the inn." Celeste spoke up again. There was silence before another knock emanated on the door, "Adam? Are...are you there?". Finally, the music playing and Adam exhaled with relief, despite the heart in his chest beating as fast as one of those tiny 'bumblingbirds' he'd heard used to exist before the Bombs. Adam put his hair back in a knot and he opened the door as music invisibly wafted the room to the soft lantern light overhead. "Ah.." Adam shyly cleared his throat at the sight of Celeste and her beauty, like a woman from those old Pre-War films. "C-Celeste, you look beautiful. I love the way you've done your hair and the dress, it compliments you too." He remembered where he was and realized she was still standing outside. "I'm sorry! Here." He stepped aside and let her in and shut the door behind her. "I'm sorry, but I fear my home ain't exactly as nice as yours, but I did make you dinner." He went over to the hotplate setup and brought two warm plates of steak and a mixed array of vegetables. "I've also...uh..." Adam looked around, his heart fluttering trying not to look like a doof as he looked for his prize. "Ah!" He knelt down on the floor, digging in boxes under his cot. "I have a vintage bottle of the good stuff." He produced dark sealed bottle. "Can't read the brand, but it's Franciacorta wine. Good stuff, found it at some ritzy golf course down the coast."

Adam uncorked the bottle and poured Celeste a whiskey glass of the wine, its clearish-yellow streaming with a soft hiss into the glass and he placed it beside her at the table before pouring himself a glass and seating himself at the table with the bottle between them. Adam spoke up and blushed, "Sorry I took so long, Celeste. See, ahem, I was trying to get the music player to start and it likes to be a pain in the ass but I wanted to surprise you, give you a special night and all." He chuckled softly, "I'm sure running an inn with a few Handys can't exactly be easy." Adam smiled once more, "So. How was your day, Celeste? I reckon you must have quite a tale to share running that place."

Shelby caught herself staring at Eliza while smirked after tossing her top in the floor. It was like a tease, as Shelby just wanted to be with her for once. Waylon yelled up the stairs and brought up a young woman named Mary whom had cared for Eliza's horse. “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 alot together. I take it you're familiar with them?”

"I am", Mary replied, "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."

Shelby furrowed her brow, “Where are you from Mary? I only ask because I've only ever seen horses out west. I mean, that's not to say they aren't anywhere else, just curious.”

Waylon enjoyed the peek he had of Eliza, he didn't have to wonder why Shelby was attracted to her. He toed the floor as Mary and Eliza spoke, pushing thoughts of the two women being together. He had been thinking for quite some time that he may be ready to settle down. Never before had he been presented with the opportunity but now outside of Calypso and her empire he would be able to explore the option. He cleared his throat, “Well ladies, if you'll excuse me I believe there's a beer calling for me over to the diner.”

Shelby flashed him a look, “Whatever...bring back a couple would ya?.

“What else for your order Miss?” Waylon acted like he was scribbling into a order pad, “You still want one of those witchcraft books?”

“Ha ha ha, very funny Waylon,” Shelby flipped him off, “That last book was full of shit, that witch shit is just a bunch of bullshit like Calypso was. Not saying it wouldn't be pretty amazing to actually do stuff like I've read, but that's just a pipe dream.”

He flipped her off back, “I'll be back when I'm back.”

“We'll be waiting with baited breath,” she waved him off, “So...are either of you hungry? Thirsty? I have snacky stuff and some Nuka Colas in the fridge.”

Waylon stopped outside the door and lit up a cigarette, he shook his head happy to be out of the shop able to have a little time to clear his head. He began walking up to the diner when as he was passing the clinic he noticed a tall blonde woman. He took a quick glance and nodded, “Nice night tonight,” he offered his hand, “I'm Waylon.”

Dr. Arthur West - Salem Church Clinic
"What watch? If you think cranky over there," she wagged her beer bottle towards Barney, "is gonna pull a double overnight, you're dreaming. And I'm not sure how tough our friend over there is, after getting his ass kicked by his lunch. Sorry. I'm...not used to being surrounded by folks who weren't conditioned from childhood to have a tactical approach to things. You aren't wrong; sadly, we don't exactly have the resources for that, at the moment."

"Sorry," Arthur replied sheepishly, "I don't exactly have a mind for military matters. We had a special division back at the Vault that handled these sorts of things. Its not exactly my area of expertise."

"If they're retreating, it seems most likely they'd raid us for supplies and a place to lick their wounds. Though from what I know of the Gunners, they probably won't be nice about it. Many are armed and armored and most seem coordinated enough to have paid attention to minimal training," she agreed.

"I need a coffee to go," she said at the grumpy waitress, then stood. "I'll walk you back to the clinic, if you like. It's on the way to Brandy's house. I'm going to pick up some ammo and a sweater, then take the first watch.

"If you don't mind then that would be great," Arthur nodded. The idea of bloodthirsty Gunners creeping up on them in the dead of night had him on edge. He'd be glad for the company, even if the Clinic was only a short walk away. But you never know..

After a curt conversation with Barney, Frieda had gotten up and left the Diner, with Arthur following in tow. As they approached the clinic, he could see a trail of blood leading up into the front door of the church. Which meant that Steve had most likely just dumped the body inside. Arthur grimmaced,

"I do hope he kept it away from Miss Summer. Otherwise I'll need to have a word with Barney about that man..." Arthur said.

"For fuck's sake..." Frieda muttered when she saw the trail. "Hold this." Frieda pushed her coffee cup into Arthur's hands. "...uh, sorry. And this," she sheepishly gave him her still-burning cigarette.

"Uh..no problem," He said, as he took the coffee and the cigarette, and awkwardly held it. The smoke from the cigarette wafted upwards towards his nostrils, and he extended his hand to hold the cigarette out further.

With a grunt and a sigh, she picked up the pungent corpse by the shoulders of its shirt and pulled it along the floor and outside the clinic, dragging it back down the stairs and leaving it in the street. It was heavier than she had expected, but she managed. She broke a slight sweat with the effort. "I'll move it on my way back out to the main entrance, but at least it's outside, for now." Frieda held her hands out for her coffee and her smoke. "I'll take those back, now."

"Thank you Frieda," Arthur said with a sigh of relief as he handed her back her effects, "You'll have to excuse me, I have a strict decontamination regiment to implement now, thanks to our friend Steve. I, uh, suppose I'll see you tomorrow? Thanks...thanks again for the drink. I enjoyed our talk. Listen...I know I'm a doctor and not a therapist..but, well, if you'd like to talk more your brother and your...people. Then my door is always open. I think I understand what you're going through better than most...believe me. Have a good night Frieda."

With that, Arthur turned and went inside the church. True to his word, he immediately began cleaning and decontaminating everything on the first floor that could have possibly been touched by the unwanted corpse. As he did so, he muttered under his breath about 'no concept of hygienic conditions' and 'how have these people not all died from infection?'

Even if Steve meant well, Arthur had to chide the man about even considering the idea of using a dead, chem-addled, raider corpse as a 'blood bag'. The fact that he'd apparently thought this was no big deal was testament to just what sort of 'medical treatment' these people were used to. He shuddered at the thought.

After a couple hours of cleaning, and when the clock had nearly struck midnight, Arthur finally sat up from his labors and inspected the now spotless clinic floor. Summer was fast asleep, still recovering from her injuries, and Arthur was glad he hadn't woken her. No doubt the cocktail of medications she was currently on was keeping her quite drowsy and down for the count.

Arthur's thoughts then turned back to the body of the poor sod still lying outside. He stepped out of the clinic and saw it still lying where Frieda had drug it off to. The initial stages of decomposition had already set in and the body was considerably pale. Rigor mortis had not yet affected the body, although it would no doubt occur soon as well.

"I need to get this off the street...this is just unhealthy.." He muttered.

A thought crossed the doctor's mind then, and he scratched his chin thoughtfully.

Well a 'blood bag' was a silly notion, but I suppose there's no reason he couldn't still serve medical science.

Arthur stepped back inside the clinic for a few minutes, and when he returned, he was armed with latex gloves, a filtration mask, and a medical apron wrapped around his labcoat. With a grimace, he began pulling the body around to the backside of the church. There he found what he was looking for: an old cellar door tucked away neatly behind a few rotten bushes. Hesitantly, he opened the cellar door and looked inside, producing a small flashlight he'd taken from the rectory office and shining it around below. The cellar was dusty and ancient, and probably hadn't been touched since before the war. There were a number of shelves, crates, and tables strewn about down below, along with other materials and areas he couldn't yet see.

With a shrug, Arthur rolled the raider body down the stairs and then closed the doors. He briefly returned to the clinic and came back with a small box of equipment: jars, tubes, and various other laboratory items he had stashed away in one of his packs. With some effort, he carried all the items down into the cellar and closed the doors behind him. After which, he lit a candle and propped the body up on one of the nearby tables, setting up his equipment around it. It was a modest setup to be sure, but it would do for now.

"I suppose an autopsy is in order...." Arthur said, speaking to no-one but himself, and perhaps the cold corpse in front of him, "Well my poor decaying friend...time to see what makes you tick."

He then withdrew a small tape from his labcoat pocket and clicked a small button on it to begin recording before setting the device off to the side,

"This is Dr. Arthur West of The Bioscience Division, continuing my personal logs which serve as my usual reports to The Directorate. I understand I've been infrequent with my updates, but now that I've settled in what is hopefully a more stable area, I should be able to send them consistently from here on out. Now to my report, I am currently conducting an autopsy of a wasteland specimen brought to me via one of the settlers in the Salem township. I understand that we've had numerous such studies of surface-dwellers done over the years, but I've always found that redundancy of data analysis is never a bad thing. The individual is approximately 25 - make that 27 years old, with obvious signs of heavy chems use: consistent with behavior typical of those inducted into raider gangs..."

Arthur continued his detailed autopsy of the raider, recording everything he found at cataloging it with all the preciseness that might be expected of someone like him.

OOC: Pausing here in case something happens during the night. If not, then Arthur is just basically going to continue his work and go to bed sometime in the early morning.