CELESTE BROWN - Adam's place -- nightfall

Celeste had begun to worry that perhaps Adam had forgotten about their date...or maybe he had meant a different night? Sudenly, some thudding from behind the door could be heard and the door bumped open to reveal a dimly lit room and the silhouette of Adam himself. A beautiful tune warbled over the air from behind him.

"Ah.." Adam cleared his throat, "C-Celeste, you look beautiful. I love the way you've done your hair and the dress, it compliments you too."

Celeste offered a short curtsey and a smile. "Thank you, Adam! How sweet of you to say. Wonderful night, isn't it?"

"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.

Celeste couldn't help but glance around. It wasn't in a state of disarray, but Adam certainly had an eclectic collection of things strewn about. It was extremely fascinating. She took a seat at the table, folded her hands in front of her, and gave a genuine smile. "Thank you so much for inviting me over. I, well, have been looking forward to spending the time with you like this all day."

'"I've also...uh..." Adam looked around, almost panicked. "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."

Celeste's heart leapt and that moonstruck feeling seized her once more. "My goodness, Adam, what a treat! I...I'm just so flattered you would share such a treasure with me."

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."

Celeste had fallen into every word he'd spoken so deeply, it took her at least a moment to realize he had posed her a direct question. "I...oh! Yes, definitely," she replied dreamily, reaching for her whiskey glass and casually swirling the wine. "You're an excellent host, Adam, to be sure."

She lifted the glass up to her nose and sniffed, like she saw in the only pre-war film she'd ever watched in her life. The wine smelled tangy. Celeste realized she had no idea what she was really smelling for and took a sip. The wine was wonderful. It was smooth on her palate, despite its age, and had sweet notes she couldn't at all identify. Perhaps fruits from before the war, that no one would ever know again. "You weren't kidding," she smiled again, "this tastes like nothing I've ever had before." She held her glass up over their plates. "Cheers!"

"My day was just super, thank you. And thanks to you!" she giggled. "I'm really happy I met you." Celeste helped herself to her dinner, cutting off a small portion of the steak and taking the bite. She chewed the meat, tender and flavourful in her mouth, then swallowed, before continuing. "Actually, I only got into town yesterday morning. It feels like months ago, though..." She took another sip of wine. "Archie -- my robot -- uh, I mean, the robot -- took out all the skeletons and broken furniture and whathot out, changed most of the beds, all that sort of thing. It's no wonder people seemed to love them before the war, they're just so helpful, you know? Must be why there are so many still around."

"I have my first customer, too. Her name is Sara. She came in -- oh!! After the first gunfight! Jeepers," she carried on, having another bite of steak and vegetable, "there was some kind of fight out on the edge of town. Then later, just before I was getting ready to come and see you, there was another fight." Celeste shuddered, shaking her curls down to her bosom and hips. She clutched her glass with both hands. "It was really close, too. Almost like it was right outside the inn, itself."

Celeste paused. "Well. We don't need to talk about that, hmm? Nothing new in the wasteland, as they say." She reached out and placed her hand over his, looked him in the eyes, and smiled. "Tell me, what brought you to town? A new treasure? Ooh! What all was in that chest you took from the inn? What do you like so much about old world treasures? I mean, I've seen my share of this and that, but I am always so fascinated by what other people see in them. They don't have hardly any trade value, but so many folks collect them!"

Adam 'Trails' Wilford- Adam's shack

Adam smiled when Celeste realized he was asking her a direct question. "I...oh! Yes, definitely," she said as she'd reached for her glass, swirling the wine around inside. His cheeks flushed a deep almost burgundy when Celeste complimented him, "You're an excellent host, Adam, to be sure." Adam watched Celeste with appreciation, forgetting how wonderful romantic interaction's like these felt. She lifted the glass up to her nose and sniffed the wine before sipping it and spoke with a happy reaction to the taste. "You weren't kidding," she smiled again, "this tastes like nothing I've ever had before." She rose the glass and said "Cheers!" Adam in turn raised his, the glasses clinking softly, "Cheers!"

Celeste had begun to tell Adam about her day, although Adam smiled, at times he was lost in watching her talking about herself and her day, her beauty enchanting him in the soft lantern light, each giggle a song all its own to his ears. "My day was just super, thank you. And thanks to you!" she giggled. "I'm really happy I met you." Celeste helped herself to her dinner, chewing into the steak before continuing the story. "Actually, I only got into town yesterday morning. It feels like months ago, though..." She took another sip of wine. "Archie -- my robot -- uh, I mean, the robot -- took out all the skeletons and broken furniture and whathot out, changed most of the beds, all that sort of thing. It's no wonder people seemed to love them before the war, they're just so helpful, you know? Must be why there are so many still around."

"I have my first customer, too. Her name is Sara. She came in -- oh!! After the first gunfight! Jeepers," she carried on, having another bite of steak and vegetable, "there was some kind of fight out on the edge of town. Then later, just before I was getting ready to come and see you, there was another fight." Celeste shuddered, shaking her curls down to her bosom and hips. Adam couldn't help but try to subtly follow the curls to her chest, taking in a gentle gaze as she was in her story, clutching her glass, "It was really close, too. Almost like it was right outside the inn, itself."

Celeste had paused. "Well. We don't need to talk about that, hmm? Nothing new in the wasteland, as they say." She reached out and placed her hand over his, her soft smooth hands like silk gloves over his coarse hands. She looked Adam in the eyes, and smiled. "Tell me, what brought you to town? A new treasure? Ooh! What all was in that chest you took from the inn? What do you like so much about old world treasures? I mean, I've seen my share of this and that, but I am always so fascinated by what other people see in them. They don't have hardly any trade value, but so many folks collect them!". Adam paused in thought and said seriously, "The hope of striking love with cute innkeepers." He couldn't keep a straight face for long and gave a short laugh, "No. Uhh, truth is, I came here for a new beginning. Considering a date's about exposing ourselves to a prospective other, wouldn't feel right to lie or hold back. I came here as a trader, but long before that in my twenties, I was an outlaw. A bandit. But after that life came to an end, I became a trader around twenty-eight because I felt guilty for all those times I'd stolen from others, so I remade myself as an honest trader. Fastforward twenty years and here I am. I came here looking to trade, but this place is homey. I took to settling here, but I've always been a drifter, so a proper house didn't really suit me, you know?"

Adam sighed, thinking about his place in town and Celeste's questions. Adam had gotten up, picking up the picture on the small shrine of Pre-War American things and brought it over. "See that woman? According to the writing on the back of it her name was Gladys. She fought for this country, back when it was still whole." He gently took it up and placed it back on the small memorial of Old World things. "It doesn't matter in the long run on the grand scheme of things, but the point I'm getting at it is everything we find has a story. Stories of heroes like hers should be preserved, so we can remember the good of those who came before us. Too many people think like nihilists in this war ravaged world, but I think people like her are reminders we can be good people and make the world better.". Adam laughed, "That's probably a little more philosophical an answer than you were expecting. But come on, we don't need such heavy thoughts tonight. I have a better idea." Adam stood up, straightening the sweatervest he was wearing, trying to emulate pre-war fashion, and changed the song playing, waiting for the soft music to play before he turned back to Celeste. As Peggy Lee began to sing softly in the background Adam smiled, aware of how clumsy he looked trying to imitate those Old World graces as he half bowed with an extended hand to Celeste, "May I have your hand for this dance, Miss?". Adam took Celeste by the hand and escorted her to the middle of the room and they slowly began to dance under the light. Adam cleared his throat, his heart racing as the scent of Celeste so close filled his nostrils. "Celeste, I...I've been looking forward to this since you first hit on me, but I was scared to move. You're the first woman to spark desire in my heart for the longest time." Adam leaned his head into her fragrant curls, shyly and giving a long, gentle kiss to the top of her forehead.

FRIEDA RICHTER - clinic -- night fall/it's dark/whatever

"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?"

"Mm," she nodded, her mouth full of coffee. She swallowed, then spoke. "I'll be here."

"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."

Frieda took another sip of the coffee. "That's...well, thanks. I...will think about that." She didn't want to sound ungrateful but she certainly hadn't expected that kind of response for how much she'd gushed about Brian, and home. She wasn't sure it was healthy.

I suppose I'm going to be up for many hours, yet. I can think about it, then.

"Goodnight, doc," she waved, "good luck with your decontamination whatnot." Frieda took a final pull off her cigarette and tossed it to the ground, being particularly careful to send it away from the clinic. While distracted, she nearly walked right into a man she hadn't seen before as he passed the clinic from the other direction.

"Nice night tonight," he said by way of greeting. He held out his hand. "I'm Waylon."

Frieda's first instinct was to salute, but in the awkward second where she caught herself from doing it, her hand jerked and twitched some coffee out of the cup. "Oh shit," she hissed, passing the cup into her left hand and wiping her right on the back of her pants. "Sorry, I was...lost in thought," she muttered, finally extending her hand properly and shook. "I'm Frieda. Nice to meet you. -- wait, your name sounds familiar. Do you have a weapons shop? I think that's what Brandy said. I'm Brandy's...roommate, I guess you could call it. She isn't exactly charging me rent."

"I hope I didn't spill any coffee on you. I'm actually just heading back to the house right now for some extra clothes. I'm pulling a watch at the head of the main road, there were a couple raider attacks during the day, and some wounded Gunners heading north, so I'm going to...uh, watch for them." She found herself babbling as she started to feel nervous about posting herself as watch. What if those Gunners weren't as dilapidated as she hoped and they manage to rip her to pieces? Frieda shuddered.

"To think that Ace just told me he wants street lights. Why don't we just build a tower with flashing lights that says 'ROB US NOW'? God, that guy..."

Frieda cleared her throat. "Sorry, I didn't mean to just, uh, start talking like that. You were heading somewhere, I didn't mean to keep you."

The woman jerked her hand, spilling some of her coffee, "Oh shit," she hissed, passing the cup into her left hand and wiping her right on the back of her pants. "Sorry, I was...lost in thought," she muttered, finally extending her hand properly and shook. "I'm Frieda. Nice to meet you. -- wait, your name sounds familiar. Do you have a weapons shop? I think that's what Brandy said. I'm Brandy's...roommate, I guess you could call it. She isn't exactly charging me rent."

Waylon smiled, “As a matter of fact I do, I run it with my friend Shelby. Brandy is a sweet kid, but sometimes things sail right over her head. She has a good heart though, I imagine she's been taken advantage of more than a few times.”

"I hope I didn't spill any coffee on you. I'm actually just heading back to the house right now for some extra clothes. I'm pulling a watch at the head of the main road, there were a couple raider attacks during the day, and some wounded Gunners heading north, so I'm going to...uh, watch for them."

He took a drag from his cigarette, “Yeah, that's what I hear. Part of Barney’s militia too huh?”

"To think that Ace just told me he wants streetlights. Why don't we just build a tower with flashing lights that says 'ROB US NOW'? God, that guy..." Frieda cleared her throat. "Sorry, I didn't mean to just, uh, start talking like that. You were heading somewhere, I didn't mean to keep you."

Waylon dismissively waived his hand, “Nowhere in particular really, just thought about grabbing a beer at the diner. I saw you there for a minute yesterday but I had to get Shelby out of there, she's terrified of muties.” He walked alongside Frieda towards Brandy's place. “I agree, I’m not too sure about street lights either, that would almost guarantee an attack, most likely after dark.” He walked Frieda to the door, “I can go grab a rifle if you’d like some company? I mean, I don’t doubt that you can handle yourself, so please don’t take that the wrong way. Just thought two might be better than one, it you want that is?”

CELESTE BROWN - Adam's place -- evening

Adam sighed. He stood, picking up the picture on the small shrine of Pre-War American things and brought it over. "See that woman? According to the writing on the back of it her name was Gladys. She fought for this country, back when it was still whole." He gently took it up and placed it back on the small memorial of Old World things. "It doesn't matter in the long run on the grand scheme of things, but the point I'm getting at it is everything we find has a story. Stories of heroes like hers should be preserved, so we can remember the good of those who came before us. Too many people think like nihilists in this war ravaged world, but I think people like her are reminders we can be good people and make the world better.".

"Nile Lists, you say? I've never met one, I don't think," Celeste replied, tapping her nose.

Adam laughed, "That's probably a little more philosophical an answer than you were expecting. But come on, we don't need such heavy thoughts tonight. I have a better idea." Adam stood up, straightening the sweatervest he was wearing, and changed the song playing, waiting for the soft music to play before he turned back to Celeste.

Celeste felt slightly flushed, unsure if it was the doing of the wine, the situation, or a combination of both. She took another sip for good measure.

As Peggy Lee began to sing softly in the background Adam smiled, mechanically bending in front of her to extend his hand. "May I have your hand for this dance, Miss?"

Celeste wiped some curls off her face and accepted his hand. "Well, sure!"

Adam took Celeste by the hand and escorted her to the middle of the room and they slowly began to dance under the light. His body was warm, even if the ancient threads of the wool of his sweater vest were scratchy on her cheek. The low lighting combined with the music, and the ambiance of the room made the experience somewhat surreal. She felt happy.

Adam cleared his throat. "Celeste, I...I've been looking forward to this since you first hit on me, but I was scared to move. You're the first woman to spark desire in my heart for the longest time." Adam leaned his head into her hair, giving a long, gentle kiss to the top of her forehead.

Celeste pulled herself even closer to Adam's body and warmth. "Oh, Adam," she gushed, "I'm so glad." She nuzzled her face into his chest and sighed. "Everyone does have a story. I heard all kinds of them when I worked with my parents in Niagara Falls." Celeste squeezed him tight and looked up to his face with a shy smile. "Now mine includes you, too." She tilted her head and pushed her lips to meet his in a sweet, gentle kiss.

The song ended, the music player slowly rolling into the next track. Celeste clutched Adam's hands in hers. "This has been a wonderful evening, Adam. It's getting a little late. Will you walk me back home?"

(OOC: I didn't want to dictate the weather in case anyone's worried. I asked Sky beforehand so we could all be on the same page on seasons and such and Sky said it's about fall season wise.)

Adam 'Trails' Wilford- Adam's shack

Adam came down off the clouds as the song ended, suddenly remembering the world around them as Celeste clutched Adam's hands in hers. "This has been a wonderful evening, Adam. It's getting a little late. Will you walk me back home?" Adam smirked, "Sure thing. Let me get my coat, gets chilly at night this time of year." He brought up a duster he normally used for traveling and cloaked it over Celeste, "Don't worry about me. I got this monkey suit to keep me warm." He said in an amused tone, waving his hands up and down over the sweater vest and dress shirt he'd found for this night. He opened the door and exhaled a little faint breath in the night air, a faint cloud of mist as he exhaled into the night air. He put his arm through Celeste's after he shut the door and they slowly strolled from the beach to the streets on the way to the retirement home. Adam enjoyed it all, the gentle quiet of the night, Celeste, the beauty of the stars above. He then spoke up to her, "So, you said 'Niagra Falls? I heard about that. Somewhere up yonder Canada ways, right? How's a maple leaf float so far south on the wind like that? You must have quite a story on getting here. What was life up there like?"

FRIEDA RICHTER - Salem -- darkety dark dark

Waylon dismissively waved his hand, “Nowhere in particular really, just thought about grabbing a beer at the diner. I saw you there for a minute yesterday but I had to get Shelby out of there, she's terrified of muties.” He walked alongside Frieda towards Brandy's place. “I agree, I’m not too sure about street lights either, that would almost guarantee an attack, most likely after dark.”

"Thank you!" Frieda groaned, raising her free hand into the air. "Finally, someone else with some motherfucking sense." In her elation, she didn't even try to watch her language.

He walked Frieda to the door, “I can go grab a rifle if you’d like some company? I mean, I don’t doubt that you can handle yourself, so please don’t take that the wrong way. Just thought two might be better than one, it you want that is?”

It was all she could do to keep herself from jumping up and down screaming OHMYGODYESWOULDYOUPLEASE. It wasn't the part about handling herself, she was simply, already, feeling nervous about standing out at the end of that road, all alone. She tried to play it off cool, or at least, casually. "I'm not used to people being...nice," was the best she had, "and I wouldn't mind the company. Might make it harder for someone to sneak up on us, you know?" She walked into Brandy's always-tidy house. "I'll be back in a sec."

"Brandy? Are you home?" she called into the house. There was no answer. She put her coffee onto a mantle then Frieda hopped up the stairs to her room and dug around her bag of still-dirty laundry, realizing she hadn't had a chance to wash her clothing yet. I'll have to ask Brandy about that, tomorrow. She pulled out her faded green sweatshirt, causing her dog tags to tumble out of the bag as well. Her first instinct was to snatch them up and hurriedly stuff them back into the bottom of her bag, but she paused. Frieda stared at the pressed steel in her hands, then stuffed them into the back pocket of her pants. As she straightened, she saw Brandy's pistol still on her dresser, after she confiscated it the night before. She considered just slipping the firearm into Brandy's room, then remembered immediately how the younger woman had nearly shot her own foot off by accident, and instead put it into a dresser drawer.

I'll teach her how to shoot it as part of my 'rent.' ...and for my own peace of mind.

Frieda clattered back down the stairs, collected her tepid, at best, coffee, and met Waylon at the front door. "Hey, if you still want to hit the diner, we better boogie. That waitress with a bad attitude told us a couple hours ago she wanted to close up. Plus, my coffee could use a warm up."

They walked back down the street towards the diner. "Yeah, I guess I'm part of Barney's 'militia,' but I managed to weasel some caps out of the gig. Mainly I'm the clinic guard, but I'd rather take a watch at the road than have to jump out of bed and confront someone within the clinic, itself. And that's assuming the doc would get out in time to even call for me..."

"Here," she said, lingering at the doorway to the diner and handing Waylon her empty coffee cup, and thinking better of another dose of the gut rot. "I actually don't need that, anymore. I'll meet you at the main road."

Frieda made her way down he street, lighting up another cigarette, noticing how bright it looked against her hand as she held it in the dark. She looked up to the sky, noticing it was at least clear, and hoped for some decent moonlight. As she passed the inn from down the street, she saw Celeste clutching Adam at the door. Frieda rolled her eyes and took another, soothing puff off her smoke.

The old museum of witchcraft seemed to be the border edge of town, with a long abandoned parking lot off the other side of the road. Frieda gazed at the building for some time, reflecting upon its architecture, and how gloomy it looked in the dark. She thought she heard some kind of thundering growl from within, but that could easily have been the old frame settling in what was becoming a cool night. She looked around her immediate surroundings to see there was really no cover to be had, unless she huddled up next to the spooky museum -- and she sure as hell wasn't about to do that. At least, not without a good reason.

She looked at the rusted out frame of a pre-war car, its salvageable parts stripped off some unknown time ago. Frieda climbed up onto its roof, surveying her view, and decided she liked it. She could see past the museum far enough up the road to observe any potential approach from either direction. Frieda pulled her knees up to her chest.

CELESTE BROWN - Adam's place/Salem -- night

"Don't worry about me. I got this monkey suit to keep me warm." He said in an amused tone, waving his hands up and down over the sweater vest and dress shirt.

Celeste giggled. "Silly -- a monkey isn't a real thing," she teased, playfully touching a finger to his cheek.

He opened the door and exhaled a little faint breath in the night air, a faint cloud of mist as he exhaled into the night air. He put his arm through Celeste's after he shut the door and they slowly strolled from the beach to the streets on the way to the retirement home. His duster felt heavy, but comforting, and certainly kept any of the chill in the air away from her. Celeste took a breath, inhaling the salty, cool air, and the smell of Adam's skin from his coat. A thrill coursed through her body.

He then spoke up to her, "So, you said 'Niagara Falls? I heard about that. Somewhere up yonder Canada ways, right? How's a maple leaf float so far south on the wind like that? You must have quite a story on getting here. What was life up there like?"

Celeste drew herself closer to Adam, holding his arm just a little tighter. "Well, I suppose it's pretty similar to life anywhere, if I think about the stories I used to hear all the time. My parents had a diner and trading stand, so we met pretty much everyone who came through. I grew up listening to all the things people went through as they travelled through the wasteland, the people, and tribes they met." She sighed, wistfully. "It made me think I had to see the world for myself, you know? To stake out on my own and find my own place. It sounded just so...wonderful."

"I saved up my caps and paid a caravan to let me join them from Niagara to Diamond City, but even halfway to Salem, I just...well..." She trailed off, feeling embarrassed. "Oh, Adam, you're such a seasoned traveller, I just know you'll think the next part is just silly, but, I...I couldn't take it. All those stories, all those amazing places that are out there, no one really told me about the violence, and how loud a gun is, or how much blood a feral hound can really spill." She shuddered. "It was just too much, for me. I...well, I just couldn't stomach it." Celeste drooped. "You must think me pathetic, huh?"

They drew up to the double doors of the inn. "The caravan stopped here for some lunch, yesterday, and I decided to stay. I suppose that the water being nearby was just comforting, or familiar, and I ditched the caravan right then and there. I told myself that this place was where I could really make a name for myself, but truthfully, I didn't care about Diamond City, anymore." She looked up to Adam's face and smiled. "Well, maybe you and I can visit there sometime, together, hmm? If you'd like. Her eyes danced as she craned her neck up once more, in anticipation of a final goodnight kiss.

Adam 'Trails' Wilford- Salem Streets

Adam felt the warmth of Celeste's body as she leaned in close, holding his arm just a little tighter. "Well, I suppose it's pretty similar to life anywhere, if I think about the stories I used to hear all the time. My parents had a diner and trading stand, so we met pretty much everyone who came through. I grew up listening to all the things people went through as they travelled through the wasteland, the people, and tribes they met." She sighed, wistfully. "It made me think I had to see the world for myself, you know? To stake out on my own and find my own place. It sounded just so...wonderful."

Adam listened quietly to Celeste telling her life story, each footstep a soft padding on the asphalt of the ancient streets. "I saved up my caps and paid a caravan to let me join them from Niagara to Diamond City, but even halfway to Salem, I just...well..." Celeste had suddenly begun trailing off. "Oh, Adam, you're such a seasoned traveller, I just know you'll think the next part is just silly, but, I...I couldn't take it. All those stories, all those amazing places that are out there, no one really told me about the violence, and how loud a gun is, or how much blood a feral hound can really spill." She shuddered. "It was just too much, for me. I...well, I just couldn't stomach it." Celeste drooped. "You must think me pathetic, huh?". Adam stopped in the street, his stomach in knots. It was as if Celeste had been reading his mind from over the years. Adam's throat was tight before he finely whispered a hoarse "No". He licked his lips and swallowed before he spoke, "Celeste, I...I've done some awful things out there. I've robbed enough people at gunpoint I've probably heard every possible kind of scream or curse. Truth is, it never gets any easier. You just find new ways to cope." The wind blew gently threw his hair as he looked blankly down the street. "Celeste, I sold out my old gang to try and go straight. Nineteen lives for the price of one. Was it worth it? I never think so. I try to be a good man, but sometimes you need to be a harsh man. After I met Ellia down south, I swore I'd never fall back into that life. Truth is, killing is easy. It's living with it that gets harder, it's like with every life you take, you kill a piece of your own soul all so you can make a little money. So, no. I'd say you're better person than me. You rejected that life and I took it up. I took the easy road while you helped try to scratch and scrape a life for others." Adam looked over to Celeste beside him, "I don't even deserve to spend time with such a nice soul like you. But I'm glad you think I'm worth it." He smirked, "Maybe there's some hope for this old warhorse yet." He extended his arm to Celeste once more, relieved to tell someone what it felt like to live with such guilt for once, continuing the stroll to the inn.

They drew up to the double doors of the inn. "The caravan stopped here for some lunch, yesterday, and I decided to stay. I suppose that the water being nearby was just comforting, or familiar, and I ditched the caravan right then and there. I told myself that this place was where I could really make a name for myself, but truthfully, I didn't care about Diamond City, anymore." She looked up to Adam's face and smiled. "Well, maybe you and I can visit there sometime, together, hmm? If you'd like.". Adam laughed, "I've never been much of a city man, Salem's big enough for me. But, what the hell? If it'd mean I get to see more of you smiling, how can I every sensibly say no to that?" Celeste's eyes danced as she craned her neck up once more. Adam looked up, "What's so interesting up there? That's just the Big Dipper." He chuckled, "I'm just playing." Smiling, he took Celeste's chin into his hand, her soft skin contrasting with his rougher hands, as he leaned in and gave her a long, gentle kiss. Adam smiled, his breath wafting in the streetlight, "Thank you for a wonderful night, Celeste. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did."

Adam watched Celeste walk inside, admiring her figure as she went in. When the door shut, Adam put the duster on and pulled out a cigar and a match, striking it on his shoe. He hadn't smoked in years, but tonight was a good night and he almost felt like he had in his younger years. He exhaled, the puff flowing like a small chimney as the flavor delighted his mouth. When he was finished, he flicked it to the ground and began the trek back to the beach, taking one last look at the inn with a happy smile over the night they'd just shared.

Ace looked through the window, "Yeah why not." He opened the door and followed her inside. Brandy took a seat on the counter, and he 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.

Brandy smiled after the satisfying aftertaste of the moonshine, “It would take a lot to get me to give away my secret recipe.”

Betty came up by him and placed her hand on his shoulder, "Well...if it isn't miss sunshine." Brandy smacked the glass down on the counter and glared at Betty.

Ace shook his head; he patted Betty’s 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.

Brandy felt a mix of emotions, rage and hurt; she found herself unsure what to do for a second. She bit her lip, clenching her fists she tried to calm herself down, “Thanks for what?” She asked venomously, she looked from Betty to Ace before her glare landed on Betty again. She looked at Ace, “Can I have a key to the cellar door?” Ace handed her a key and Brandy got up, “I’ll be back, I need to go home and grab a couple of things.” She stormed off across the street to her house, slamming the door behind her and she stomped upstairs to the bathroom and washed up. Returning to her bedroom she snatched her old romance novel and turned the bookmarked page, her finger traced down the words. Sexy lingerie, doctor’s coat, heals. Brandy rummaged through her closet and found the items. Looking in her old bathroom mirror, she put on everything but the shoes. She buttoned up the lab coat and walked back to the diner, grunting from the weight of the cellar door.

Brandy got to the entrance of Ace’s room; using a paperclip she attached a small piece of paper with some words she wrote down from the old novel. Slipping on the heels while using the last of Ace’s freezers to keep her balance she took a very awkward step. She peeked in and saw Ace lying on the bed; she slowly made her way into the room, unbuttoning the coat. “Does someone nee a…” Her ankle rolled in the heels and she stumbled several steps and hit the wall. “OOPS,” she brushed her hair back and stood up straight, pushing the coat with her hands back to her hips revealing her red undergarments. She gave Ace a sly smile and took a step her ankle wobbled and she kicked off the heels. She looked at her wrist and the notes were gone, laying on the floor a couple of feet away. Defeated, Brandy blushed and walked over to the bed and let the coat slide off her arms. Getting on the bed and straddling Ace, she eased down, “I tried to be sexy and irrisistable, but…um…the heels, I’ve never wore them before, I’m sorry.”

Steve cooper- Turrets, drugs and Paramilitary women – Night time

Despite the reputation of mentats being the smart man’s aid and jet being processed shit addicts took the two drugs somewhat oddly worked remarkable well to together with the Jet focusing the user’s increased intelligence and perception from the mentat.

Upon taking both drugs Steve was able to build a “standard” (for wasteland standards alteast) field “assault turret”, A motorized assault rifle jury rigged onto a handmade platform with support legs. Usually this would take several hours to build but drugged up Steve had managed it in three and then got an interesting idea... A chair turret

Like its name suggest the “chair turret” was simply a wooden chair loosely attached to the turret but from an distance, when placed up on the wall it could very easily be mistaken for an machine gun placement but one that fired on its own, allowing the operator to fire their own gun and perhaps catching a few raiders off guard. .

It is done... but raiders? Should perform recon... Given the limited time parted the quarry faction should still assume my loyalty.

Packing up his tools Steve headed up stairs and found Edgar sitting at one of the lounge table drawing some sort of picture whilst Johnny was dealing to some caravan workers, seemlying wanting an extra “boost” on the road.

“Edgar there is a turret and chair in the basement, would you kindly bring it upstairs for me?”

“O-Kay stevey”

As Edgar brought the turret up from the basement Steve went to his room, putting on his jacket, equipment belt/pounce and grabbing his rifle Steve also spent a few minutes combing his hair and putting on a pair of eyeglasses.... after all his eyes weren’t getting any younger.

Finishing getting ready Steve head back downstairs to the lobby/entrance area where Edgar had carried the turret and chair. “Here let me take the chair, now would you kindly follow me? I plan on placing this turret out by the museum."

With the sun now set it was rather dark and cold on the street of Salem especially with the lacking functioning street light and the town's location near the Atlantic ocean but in the distance roughly in the location of the old lighthouse there was odd dim green light, providing the town with some lighting.
I wonder what that light could be. Could the atom children have fixed the lighthouse?

With the chair in hand and Edgar following him Steve walked though the lonely streets of Salem (although there was still some people at the diner) with the pair made their way up the hill towards the old museum of witchcraft. When the wall is finished the turret (and perhaps others) would be placed on or perhaps behind on an elevated platform but for now simply placing it in a cover position... perhaps the museum’s car park would have do.

As they approached the car Steve noticed that someone else was here, it was the paramilitary woman who had shot at Rook and seemlying had become friends with the twerp although apart from her name, Frieda she had refused to reveal any of her past to him. she also seemed to be spending her time with the doctor.

“Hello Possible paramilitary woman Frieda do not be alarmed it is me Steve and employee Edgar, we are just setting up this turret I built to help with raider attacks.”

Oddly Edgar cheeks blushed at sight of Frieda and he stared at the woman, somewhat nervously for a few movements until Steve waved at him to drop the turret.

Dropping the turret & Chair Steve began to positioning the turret behind one of the wrecked cars which would provide it some cover and then attached the chair “ideally this turret will be placed on the wall, once it has been finished of course."

"The chair is to fool people into thinking it’s a machine gun position only for it to fire on them when they get close.....Although for now I guess it will give you a place to sit.” Steve chuckled on

Lorelei Jones – Ace’s Diner

Rick looked at Lorelei 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.”

Lorelei gave a half-smile and narrowed her eyes. “That’s precious.” She relaxed her arms off the edge of the booth and folded them. “There was jest laced into my interrogation, but I’m going to take a guess and say ‘scholar’. It sounds like you really know your shit.” This man was peculiar, yet fascinating. He oozed intelligence, and she was drawn to it. However, as usual, she’d masked her lapse in pragmatism with dry humor.

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.”

Lorelei pursed her lips. “Prescription, huh? Sounds like you come from a far more civilized place than I.” She took a deep breath. “It’s a pretty sentiment, though. Most can’t afford to think that way, but we have no future if we accept the state we are in – this is true. I apologize for trying to affix a label to your persona, Mr. Noel. Most folks in the wasteland are simple… easy to read. They’re only motivated by one thing – survival, and if they manage to achieve it, that notion dissolves into aimless greed and glutton…they always have a ‘deal’. But I’m stumped on yours…or a lack thereof.”

After taking a break from her counterattack and being met with silence, Lorelei turned her head slightly to the side and smiled. “I did not mean to insult you or your vision, if this is what you feel. My curiosity only brings out the worst in my humor.” Despite her confidence, she felt slight regret, having likely squandered her first impression by showering Rick in sappy, impenetrable comedy. She nodded her head. “Regardless…Welcome to Salem. I’ll leave you to your solitude…nice to meet you.” She stood up and waited for a second to see if he had anything else to say before slightly raising a hand in farewell. She left the diner, slapping a few caps onto the counter as payment for her milkshake.

At that, Lorelei hurried home and sat on her porch, sitting on the rotted-wood railing and cleaning the bolt-chamber on her rifle while arbitrarily gazing up at the stars on her lonesome.

Ace Makovich – Diner - Night

“Thanks for what?” Brandy asked venomously, she looked from Betty to Ace before her glare landed on Betty again. She looked at Ace, “Can I have a key to the cellar door?” Ace reached into his pocket and handed her a key and Brandy got up, “I’ll be back, I need to go home and grab a couple of things.” She stormed off across the street to her house.

“Well, looks like brandy wasn’t too pleased with what you said Betty…please try not to pester her.” Ace said as he turned to Betty. He got up and headed for the hatch, stretching and yawning, “Do you mind locking up? I’m gonna head down. After you close up head over to the inn, and tell Celeste to send me the bill, and you can stay there.”

Ace made his way down and over to his bed, he undressed, and got under sheets as he lay on his back. He picked up Reggie’s picture and stared at it for a bit. He just laid there quietly longingly looking at it. He head the cellar door open and then close with a thud. He placed the picture frame back on the nightstand, facing down.

Brandy peeked and stared at him, hiding behind the door frame. She slowly made her way in side, wearing a long white, doctors’ coat. She sheepishly started to unbutton the coat, “Does someone nee a…” Her ankle rolled in the heels and she stumbled several steps and hit the wall. “OOPS,” she brushed her hair back and stood up straight, pushing the coat with her hands back to her hips revealing her red undergarments.

She gave Ace a sly smile and took a step her ankle wobbled and she kicked off the heels. She looked at her wrist. Brandy blushed and walked over to the bed and let the coat slide off her arms. Getting on the bed and straddling Ace, she eased down, “I tried to be sexy and irresistible, but…um…the heels, I’ve never wore them before, I’m sorry.”

“No…umm…that’s fine…your little comedy act, really brightened up my day.” Ace said with a smile as he tried to hold back from laughing. She looked disappointed, Ace sat up and pulled her closer to him, “I’m sorry…come on lets have some fun and get some sleep. I have to get up early in the morning.

Rook - Salem Town Edge / Rook's Wall - Evening/night

Rook had heard the reports. He had a small radio that was powered by an internal battery, and he liked to listen to it on nights near water, but when he heard the report about the Gunners, that was not good news. Rook could take a few of them, if he ambushed them and got to the fast enough, he could take out several of them quickly, but the odds of that happening were slim. He hated fighting them in the open.

Sitting on the beach for a moment, he realized it was this way they would be moving. If it was less than a handful, he would be fine. If it was a lot more... Well, that made life a lot harder. It was going to be a long night then. Standing up, he grabbed his box of tools, a sledge hammer, and made his way over the gate that would be near the inn. That was where he should start. Setting down the tools, he made a quick walk through town, marking each car that could move with a bit of chalk.

His goal was to get as many of them moved as possible. Plus all the steel that was in the bins, he was going to have to work as fast as he could. Once all the cars were marked, he was back on the beach, looking out over the land, and he could see the turret that had been set up. That would be helpful. If any Gunners came up this way, they would introduced to 5.56mm rounds via their organs and limbs. Good.

Walking back to gate location, he grabbed up the sledge hammer. It took several hard swings, but he got it. Each impact had cracked the ancient asphalt, and it was quick enough that he had a good sized hole. He would dig these out later and set cement in them. The gate was only a little more narrow than the road itself, and Rook had pushed the cars to sit on either side of it.

He would spend most of his night moving cars, getting them into rough position around the area he was planning to make the wall, and then digging brace holes. If he was left alone all night, he would have several of these dug, a steel beam would be in each spot, and he was getting more metal lined down the way, the scrap steel from the shipping containers. He planned to use each of those as well, but he was going to need a lot of assistance to make that one go. He was strong, but not that strong. It was going to be a long few days, Rook already had that feeling.

Adam 'Trails' Wilford- Salem streets

Adam walked down the street, his shoes softly clicking on the asphalt as he strolled slowly, mumbling to himself as he passed derelict and unused old homes and businesses. "Never let it it end. The sunlit days, the moonlit nights...the sea...the sa-" and was cut off at the sight of something moving in the shadows ahead. He began to quietly walk closer. As he approached, he figured it to be a woman. Getting closer, it was the girl from earlier. "Hey, you're the kid from the gate, right? Uhhhh, Lorelei I think you'd said?" Adam put a foot on the step and looked out to the sky. "Nice night for stars, isn't it? It's something we often take for granted." He nodded his head to himself, "So many people struggling to make it day to day, but the stars are surest sign God left us something good in this harsh existence. We just need to find those things is all." Adam chuckled softly, "Sorry, I forgot my manners. May I sit up on the porch with you?"

Mary Hawthorne - S&W Weaponry

“Where are you from Mary?", Shelby asked, furrowing her brow, "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.”

"Mary, you damned fool!", Mary thought bitterly to herself, "Did ye think these people dullards? That they wouldn't ask such a simple and obvious question? Fool! Idiot! Do ye want to end up like Joseph Curwen and his friends..slain by hunters?"

Mary's mind raced for a place that would be plausible. Shelby's accent was Northern for sure...so somewhere south. A place popped to mind...she had gone there on vacation before the war.

"Missouri", Mary replied, "But I haven't been there since I was young....almost like it was another lifetime. Moved here from Maryland, a place called Point Lookout. No horses in Maryland, though."

Not too far from the truth....

“Well ladies", Waylon said after clearing his throat, "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.”

"I ate about an hour ago", Mary replied, "But a Nuka-Cola would be nice." She then added conversationally. "You like to read, Shelby? So do I....you like to read novels about witchcraft?"

Frieda came back out if Brandy's place, “Hey, if you still want to hit the diner, we better boogie. That waitress with a bad attitude told us a couple hours ago she wanted to close up. Plus, my coffee could use a warm up."

“Yeah...Betty, she's something else. Brandy sure got worked up about her; Shelby talked to Brandy trying to convince her she needed to tell Betty off because she was all over Ace.” Waylon shrugged, “I've been tied up so I don't know if she actually did anything or not.”

They walked back down the street towards the diner. "Yeah, I guess I'm part of Barney's 'militia,' but I managed to weasel some caps out of the gig. Mainly I'm the clinic guard, but I'd rather take a watch at the road than have to jump out of bed and confront someone within the clinic, itself. And that's assuming the doc would get out in time to even call for me..."

“Arthur does seem like he could use some help in that area, not to mention his patients.”

"Here," Frieda said, lingering at the doorway to the diner and handing Waylon her empty coffee cup, "I actually don't need that, anymore. I'll meet you at the main road."

Waylon took the cup, “Alright, I'll grab us a couple drinks and run and grab a rifle and meet you there.” He walked into the diner; Betty was wiping down a booth and tossed her rag on the bar clearly frustrated.

“What do you want old man?” she sneered.

“Two beers to go smart ass,” he smacked the mug on the counter, “And here, Frieda asked me to bring this back.”

Betty snatched the mug up and broke it as she threw it in the sink, “We were supposed to close like two hours ago.”

Waylon smirked, “Maybe you need to talk to Ace about posting the hours in the door. But, I still need two beers since you haven't locked the door there genius.” He waited until she grabbed the beers and was walking over, “Ya know, on second thought I'll just go home and grab some. I mean, since your feathers have been ruffled and all.”

Betty’s mouth fell open, Waylon held up his hand, “I wouldn't run your mouth, maybe Ace and I will have a talk if you do.” Betty flipped him off as he walked to the door, “This little handle here, turn it and it'll lock the door, then you won't be bothered Kid.” Betty shook her head and mumbled under her breath. Waylon jogged home, he had not expected to be caught up at the diner for more than a couple seconds. He walked inside, grabbing a custom SKS with a precision stock and night vision scope and slung it over his shoulder and shoved 4 extra mags in a backpack. He went into his office to fetch his Kevlar vest and pulled two beers from the fridge and some snacks putting them in his backpack too. He went upstairs and poked his head inside Shelby’s bedroom, “Hey, I’m going to go help Frieda with watch tonight.”

Shelby was sitting in a chair with her feet propped up, “Frieda? Whatever, have fun, I’m sure your watch the town,” she rolled her eyes.

“Brat,” Waylon turned and headed back out, locking the door behind him. He found Frieda sitting atop an old car, he walked up, “Mind if I join you? I brought us a couple of beers and goodies.”

"I ate about an hour ago", Mary replied, "But a Nuka-Cola would be nice." She then added conversationally. "You like to read, Shelby? So do I....you like to read novels about witchcraft?"

Shelby looked at Mary, the young woman was beautiful and very mature, “Alright, one cold Nuka-Cola coming up.” She walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out two cold colas. She handed one to Mary, “Yeah, I like to read about it, but after my last endeavor,” she paused and swallowed hard, “I don’t even know what to say about Calypso and her Jade Emperor. I believed in her and her beliefs for years, it slowly unraveled and I had my doubts. Ended up being a load of sh…crap.” Shelby sat back down and propped her feet up, “I have a real hard time believing in anything magical, good, bad or whatever. The idea of witchcraft entices me though, and I do enjoy imagining it was real and all.”

Waylon popped in “Hey, I’m going to go help Frieda with watch tonight.”

Shelby was sitting in a chair with her feet propped up, “Frieda? Whatever, have fun, I’m sure your watch the town,” she rolled her eyes.

“Brat,” Waylon turned and headed back out as Shelby shook her head.

Shelby looked at Eliza resting and got up and sat closer to Mary, “Do you believe in that stuff? I wish that it was real and that I knew how to...um…do the spells and such.” She hiked her thumb towards Eliza, “I would heal her up as quickly as I could. I’m a blade smith, and I’ve read fantasy books about enchantments and such, that would be pretty neat to enchant my blades. But, I just like to learn, and the stuff that attracts me is mostly considered dark.” Shelby looked over at Eliza, maybe it was her mind, but she thought she stirred, “You alright Hun?”

Lorelei Jones - Jones Residence

“May I sit up on the porch with you?"

Lorelei looked down upon Adam and shrugged. “Don’t see why not.” She continued her work on her rifle and idly kicked her legs back and forth against the supports of the railing.

“Hey, you're the kid from the gate, right? Uhhhh, Lorelei I think you'd said?” muttered Adam.

Lorelei scoffed. Even at 25, she couldn’t escape the eternal role of the crazy little kid on the block. Perhaps, by now, she’d painted herself into that corner with her juvenile wonderment and general eccentricity. Such a remark reminded her of her own father, who’d referred to her as ‘honey pie’ or ‘little Lora’ until the end of his life. She granted a warm smile. “That’s me.” She squinted at Adam, trying to deduce his features through the gloomy moonlight. “So… you’re Adam. Right.”

Lorelei sat quietly as Adam climbed up to sit next to her. Her eyes returned to her rifle and remained fixed there. “Being a sole homeowner—especially pertaining to a gargantuan piece of real estate like this—it feels…odd. I haven’t lived in a house like this since my childhood. Feels too good to be true. Just like this town.”

After a while, Lorelei gazed out at the moonlit structures of Salem. She took a deep breath and leaned to her right, pressing her torso against the tall wooden support beam of the porch steps.

Mary Hawthorne - S&W Weaponry

"Yeah, I like to read about it, but after my last endeavor,” she paused and swallowed hard, “I don’t even know what to say about Calypso and her Jade Emperor."

"This Calypso", Mary asked, "Was she trying to convince you she knew magic?

"I believed in her and her beliefs for years", Shelby continued, "it slowly unraveled and I had my doubts. Ended up being a load of sh…crap.” Shelby sat back down and propped her feet up, “I have a real hard time believing in anything magical, good, bad or whatever. The idea of witchcraft entices me though, and I do enjoy imagining it was real and all.”

"It's not as glamorous as they make it out to be in books, and old movies and TV shows", Mary replied, "Ever notice that Museum at the edge of town? I found a pamphlet about it in my house, it talks about how the museum was about the women who were killed here hundreds of years ago because folks thought they were witches." Mary scoffed, "You'd think those fools would have realized if they had caught a real witch the odds of getting a halter around her neck were slim indeed."

Waylon popped in “Hey, I’m going to go help Frieda with watch tonight.”

Shelby was sitting in a chair with her feet propped up, “Frieda? Whatever, have fun, I’m sure your watch the town,” she rolled her eyes.

“Brat,” Waylon turned and headed back out as Shelby shook her head.

"Frieda?", Mary asked, "She is that woman who was shooting at the green man this morning, yes?"

Shelby looked at Eliza resting and got up and sat closer to Mary, “Do you believe in that stuff? I wish that it was real and that I knew how to...um…do the spells and such.” She hiked her thumb towards Eliza, “I would heal her up as quickly as I could. I’m a blade smith, and I’ve read fantasy books about enchantments and such, that would be pretty neat to enchant my blades. But, I just like to learn, and the stuff that attracts me is mostly considered dark.”

"If magic really exists", Mary said, "Gaining such power wouldn't be easy....it would at least as much dedication and practice as it took for you to learn to make quality blades...and in the end by learning it you'd only be replacing your everyday concerns for bigger and more dangerous ones. And you'd have to hide your power because folks would see you as a threat if they knew...because such power is never free, somebody had to pay the price for it and they know that it's likely to have been someone like them. And when people see something or someone as a real threat they band together and end that threat. We and the Chinamen saw each other as a threat, and look around you to see how that ended up." She then added, "At least, that is my take on it. If magic were real...and easy to do...it would be everywhere. So, it stands to reason that it's either not real....or those who do know it are in hiding."