Adam 'Trails' Wilford- Lorelei's Porch

Lorelei called back to him in the night, “So… you’re Adam. Right.” Adam tilted his head, rubbing at his beard and feigning a look of worry. "I sure hope so. Otherwise I've spent almost forty-three years getting called by the wrong name." The two had fallen silent for a time as Lorelei quietly looked at her gun before she spoke, “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.”. Adam nodded slowly, understanding how she felt. Adam gave a short 'hpmph', "You and me both, kid. You and me both. I lived in a small town a few years back with my wife. Before that, I hadn't had a proper home since I was a kid. Even that was one of those small Great Depression homes. Thought about picking a place to shack up, but, eh, all that's not really 'me'. I've spent most of my life as a drifter, anything much more than this cottage is just too decadent for me." He pulled a cigar from his pocket, fidgeting with it as he looked out on the street and leaning over the porch. "Nah. My shack on the beach is more than enough home for me so long as I'm on my own." Adam put it back, deciding not to fall back into old habits.

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. Adam figured she might be getting tired so he took that as his cue to mosey on home too. As he got ready to step off the porch, he turned back. "Hey. I uh...I'm getting a little stiff sitting around town like this. Heard from a buddy of mine that came through earlier that there's someplace called 'Lexington' nearby that might have some good stuff to pick through. You seem like an action kinda girl and I could use a second with me. I know that might sound a little much to ask, but if you're interested, I'll be heading out tomorrow morning with Bessie. Sleep on it, you feel like partnering up, I live down on the waterfront. It's that Pre-War shed thing with the huge fishing boat out on the water and the brahmin, Bessie, out front. Ain't hard to miss." Adam slowly stepped down to the street, waving a hand over his head in silent farewell to catch some much needed sleep.

Rick Noel – Diner – Night
 
Rick sat there staring at his cup, maybe he had said too much. He nodded as she left, raising his hand giving her a light wave. He finished the cup and departed, it seemed the waitress girl wanted to get everyone out so that she could close up. He stood outside the diner and stared at the sky, mesmerized by glistening stars. He had never really seen a night sky.
 
He stood there and then he could feel cold night chill aided by the cold sea breeze. He grabbed the rolled up jacket on his pack and put it on.  He was going to head out to the wall and check the progress they were making, but he was tired and his body ached for a soft and warm bed.

Rick made his way to Mary’s home but it seemed she wasn’t in. He checked the robots and it seemed they were charged. He unplugged them, didn’t want to risk the contraptions overheating and sparking a fire while they slept. Rick chuckled as he thought back at his time in the Institute studying these crude creations.

He stretched his arms and let out a yawn. His eyes grew weary. He grabbed his things and headed up. Usually that’s where sleeping quarters were located in these old homes. He headed up the dark stairs dimly light by moonlight from a window. He looked into a room that seemed small with a small bed and simple bookshelf. It seemed like it would be guest quarters. Hopefully he wasn’t intruding. He placed his bag in a chair and hit in the bed and laid there slowly falling asleep.

FRIEDA RICHTER - edge of town -- night

Frieda had been staring off between two directions, watching for any indication of movement coming towards the town. Instead, her ears picked up movement from behind her. She glanced around just to see Steve and...someone else coming up from town. The latter was carrying some kind of ballistic hardware, but the dim moonlight made it hard to see what it was.

That's what I get for not carrying a flashlight.

“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.” Steve and his colleague, Edgar, drew up next to the car.

"Well isn't that fantastic," Frieda replied, with a healthy dose of cynicism. She shifted her position to lower her knees and sit cross-legged, instead. "Make sure you set it up to point into the road and not towards me, or the town, all right? Can you handle that?"

Edgar stood awkwardly and seemed to blush at her words, until Steve waved at him to drop the turret. Once dropped, Steve began to positioning the turret behind one of the other wrecked cars which. Frieda lit another cigarette while she watched, idly aware of the fact she only had a few left in her pack. Something about Steve and Edgar made her feel like she just wanted them to finish up and get the fuck out. “Ideally this turret will be placed on the wall, once it has been finished of course."

"Yeah, well, I don't exactly know that I care for the idea of a super mutant voluntarily walling us all in," she muttered.

"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, completely as if he wasn't even listening to her.

What fuckery is this? Frieda closed her eyes and shook her head. "I'm already sitting." The way he tittered and babbled made her think he'd dipped into some of the wasteland sort of 'boosters' she had lusted after some time before.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Waylon's approach. “Mind if I join you? I brought us a couple of beers and goodies.”

"Not at all," she replied quickly, before Steve or Edgar could attempt a response. "Steve, here, has dropped off a turret, or something like that." Frieda waved him over. "Steve, have you met Waylon? He runs the weapons shop. I'm sure he has the know-how to make sure your turret shoots at the right sorts of people. You can leave it." She flipped her hair over her shoulder.

"Whoa," she began, accepting a beer from Waylon and eyeing up his rifle. "That's a sweet looking piece. Do you mind?" she held her hands out, Steve and Edgar completely forgotten.

"You know your shit," she smiled slyly, handing the rifle back, after having turned it over in her hands a few times. Frieda took a sip of the beer. "Oh, cheers, by the way. Anyways, seems most folk somehow paste together whatever they can find that will fire a bullet. I stick to my pistol, more often than not. It's just what I'm used to." She pat the spot next to her on the rusted hood of the car. "You comin' up, or what?"

"So, how does a girl like Brandy not know how to handle a gun properly, yet she's friends with the town quartermaster, huh?" Frieda smirked, taking another sip of her beer.

Steve Cooper- edge of town- Night

Frieda closed her eyes and shook her head. "I'm already sitting."

“True but on rusted 200 year old remains of a per-war automobile, chance of collapse, unlikely to be conformable and rusted roof may damage your trousers.... The chair is clearly the superior sitting option.”

“Mind if I join you? I brought us a couple of beers and goodies.”

Steve turned around to see Waylon arriving with several beers in his hand "Not at all," Frieda replied before Steve or Edgar could attempt a response. "Steve, here, has dropped off a turret, or something like that." Frieda waved him over. "Steve, have you met Waylon? He runs the weapons shop. I'm sure he has the know-how to make sure your turret shoots at the right sorts of people. You can leave it." She flipped her hair over her shoulder.

“Yes I am aware of Waylon, friend or perhaps relation to sherbet, the girlfriend of Eliza who I carried to the clinic the other day although I was unaware he was an weapon smith I shall have to visit his store sometime and purchase a close-range firearm."

perhaps an shotgun or submachine gun

As Waylon and Frieda began chatting and drinking on the rusted car hood Edgar began to glare at Waylon like he had wronged him in some way but whenever due personal resistant or john’s brainwashing he did not attack him... despite very much wanting and looking like he did.

"You know your shit," she smiled slyly, handing the rifle back, after having turned it over in her hands a few times. Frieda took a sip of the beer. "Oh, cheers, by the way. Anyways, seems most folk somehow paste together whatever they can find that will fire a bullet. I stick to my pistol, more often than not. It's just what I'm used to.”

“That is predominantly due to the higher level of maintenance required to keep plasma weaponry functional.” Steve replied as he finished setting up the turret “It was also relatively new technology before that war with replacement models and parts being very difficult to find and more than often hoarded by groups like the brotherhood or gunners.”

average wastelander are not going to fighting them just to get an plasma rifle

“Likewise only a few groups like the enclave or instuite had the ability to produce new plasma weaponry and with them now both destroyed it will be many years before any faction, alteast in this region is capable of producing more.”

"So, how does a girl like Brandy not know how to handle a gun properly, yet she's friends with the town quartermaster, huh?" Frieda smirked, taking another sip of her beer.

Probably because she hasn’t needed to.

Once Waylon replied to Frieda question about the Steve spoke “if I could have your attention for a second, I have finished setting up the turret, the targeting system should work fine but If for some reason you need to stop the turret click this button.”

Reaching into his pocket Steve then pulled out a cateye pill and swallowed it before looking at his watch muttering...“20 minutes... should be enough.” Before turning his attention back to Frieda and Waylon “I’m going to scout out the atom encampment before going to bed enjoy your...er... Date.” Steve added on not 100% sure what they doing together.

Steve then turned to Edgar who was still glaring at Waylon “Edgar, Edgar? Would you kindly come along now? We are going.”

What is wrong with him?

“o-kay” edgar muttered as he followed Steve, occasionally turning back to look at Frieda as they walked away towards the atom encampment.

Lorelei Jones - Jones Residence

"Hey. I uh...I'm getting a little stiff sitting around town like this. Heard from a buddy of mine that came through earlier that there's someplace called 'Lexington' nearby that might have some good stuff to pick through. You seem like an action kinda girl and I could use a second with me. I know that might sound a little much to ask, but if you're interested, I'll be heading out tomorrow morning with Bessie. Sleep on it, you feel like partnering up, I live down on the waterfront.”

Lorelei shook her head vigorously in an attempt to stay awake. “Lexington? Hmm. I’ve been there. It’s a spectacular cluster of the old world, if I can say so, myself. You won’t want to take the main roads…it’s a sure way to attract unwanted attention. I’ve travelled these parts extensively – I can help you navigate your way through the woods. It’s faster and infinitely more scenic.”

Lorelei folded her arms and narrowed her eyes. “I accept. Don’t leave without me.” She gave a light smile and departed to her house. Upon making a beeline for her room, she finished the two bottles left on her end table and set aside some supplies – water, canned food, bullets, and a few stimpaks before undressing and slipping under the covers.

Finally. She was finally going to be able to get off her ass and do something.

Adam 'Trails' Wilford- Adam's house, Salem

Adam rubbed his eyes as the sun in the windows up near the ceiling let the beautiful light of dawn give life to the interior of his home. He rolled over the side of his cot, his bare feet on the cold concrete as he let out a silent wide yawn before getting up and stretching. The air outside was cool on his exposed chest as stood outside the door, affectionately patting Bessie before he went behind a concealed bundle of tall rocks and undid his trousers to take a morning leak. The gulls squawked overhead as he finished with a shake and re-laced his pants to admire the rising sun. It was rare for him to take any time off like this. To just sit down and really enjoy what life gave him. Adam went to the campfire ring and lit a kettle to heat up some water while he went inside to put his clothes on. He took off his sleeping pants and put on a pair of jeans and his trader's jacket with all its pockets and lastly his holster and sling before putting on his boots. Adam went outside and sat down on an old dining chair to check over his first aid kit. "Gauze? Got that. Four bottles of Rad-X? Got that. Four bags of Rad-Away? Check. Alcohol and burn cream? Good. Stitching kit? Good to go. And finally, the flare gun. Big check." He'd finished going over the list and turned his attention to the kettle and poured the water into a metal pitcher and poured in some Pre-War instant coffee and poured a mug for himself and began to eat a simple meal of canned fruit and brahmin jerky. As he sat there eating, his mind was still on last night and how young that date with Celeste had made him feel again. The intimacy had brought back to mind that there's more to life than just sulking and digging through the ashes of the Old World for your next meal. He gave Bessie a small piece of fruit and smiled, "I think you're gonna like Celeste, Bessie. I know I do. She's a nice person."

When Adam was done, he washed the dishes and put them back in a small box and turned to Bessie and nodded, "You know what's about to happen, whether you like it or not." Bessie gave an ornery moo of discontent as Adam reached for her saddle bags and began buckling them on her. As usual when he needed to get her ready for a trip, she struggled and tried to make it difficult for him, but he'd gotten her to behave in the end. "Good girl, see? Wasn't so evil. Now's your treat." He brought up some bundled grass he'd picked and put it down in front of her. "See. Good girls get good rewards." He chuckled and began giving her pats with a brush, giving her a happy treat before the long road ahead. Over her bags, he'd unfurled a Pre-War map of the area to figure out the best route while he brushed Bessie and waited to see if Lorelei would show up.

Ace Makovich - Diner - Sunrise

Ace groggily opened his eyes. It was pitch dark, he tried turning but he felt Brandy’s arm around him as she slept. He carefully lifted her arm and freed himself. He looked at the old digital clock he had on his nightstand and it read 5 AM. He sat on the edge of the bad, with his head down staring at the ground. He was tired but needed to get up. He quietly got up and grabbed a pair of jeans and a white undershirt. He put socks and his boots and carefully left the room.

He went over to where the freezers where, and he could hear the ham radio beeping. It was Morse code, letting him know his package was about to be delivered. He grabbed an olive green jacket and headed for the cellar door. He gently opened it, and stepped outside into the frigid Salem fall morning. He shuddered as he could feel the cold coastal breeze, and rubbed his hands to warm them up.

He made his way over to the coastline, and he could see the sun, slowly rising over the sea. He stood there gazing, when he heard the whirring sound of a vertibird, approaching from a distance. It was flying low, as it looked like it was carrying something. He clasped his hands together, and blew into them to warm them up, and began heading to one of the apartment buildings in the town center behind the church. He made his way up to the top and waited for the vertibird to get closer as he waved his arms. He shut the turrets down to prevent them from targeting the vertibird, and lit up a flare showing his location.

As the vertibird grew closer so did the whirring sound of the blades, and the brotherhood logo became visible. He hoped no one would try and shoot at it, he had forgotten to tell anyone they were coming. He could see the fusion generator dangling from chains underneath the vertibird. He smiled as he looked at it, this generator would power the whole town and more.

The vertibird doors slid open, and two ropes were dangled from the opening and two Brotherhood scribes rappelled down. They guided the vertibird to position so that the generator would be right up against a wall; once it’s placed it will be near damn impossible to move without a vertibird. It had been agreed this building would house it, as the roof had been strengthened and its foundation was solid.

Once it was position just right, they signaled the vertibird and it released the clamps, allowing the chains to fall down, and freeing itself of its load. The vertibird, hovered there for a bit before it turned and headed west away from town, leaving the two scribes behind to help set up the generator. Ace smiled as he looked at it, soon they’d have power.

Lorelei Jones – Jones Residence

Lorelei awoke on the floor—desperately clutching the end of her comforter—having rolled off the bed. She stood up and massaged her forehead. What she’d gained from relieving her mind to sleep with the bottle, she lost every single subsequent morning. She stood in front of the mirror and folded her arms. Her hair had dissolved into an amorphic, rat-nest-looking mess and she had clearly cradled one of the drinks to sleep, evident from beer stains on her underwear.

Pursing her lips and running her fingers vigorously through her hair, Lorelei smiled at her reflection. Classy. If father were still about, he would be disappointed to see that his little girl had disintegrated into an alcoholic blob of satirical (and yet slightly genuine) self-loathing. She then carried a change of clothes to her restroom and bathed before eventually returning to her room with damp hair and serenely clean skin. She tied her hair into a relatively pathetic bun and rubbed her eyes.

At that, Lorelei threw on her overcoat, swung her bag around her shoulder, strapped her rifle onto her back, took a swig of water from her canteen, and bolted downstairs. She slammed her door shut and briskly strolled toward Adam’s place.

Lorelei narrowed her eyes, gave a slight smile in greeting, and nodded her head. “Sorry I’m late. Overslept.” She looked up at the sky. “Good day for traveling. If we don’t run into any hiccups, we’ll make it to Lexington before dark…” Her eyes darted to the road above. She was aching to hit the road and get the hell out of this town. She could hardly wait any longer.

Adam 'Trails' Wilford- Adam's house, Salem

Adam was lovingly petting Bessie when a voice called out to him. “Sorry I’m late. Overslept.” Adam looked up to see Lorelei standing there looking up to the sky. “Good day for traveling. If we don’t run into any hiccups, we’ll make it to Lexington before dark…” Adam nodded, "Sure, kid. Let's head out.". His tone was short and suspicious but he kept quiet and took the lead and hooked it to Bessie, Adam and Lorelei leading in front as they passed through town.

Commonwealth Wasteland

After getting a good ways outside of town, Adam finally said his first words in almost an hour as they came alongside a dilapidated truck. "I don't trust what's going on. You see that whirlybird up in the sky over Salem earlier? Thing was labelled Brotherhood and so were the troops. I don't know why they were dropping off that thingy they were leaving behind, but I'm skeptical. Those bastards don't do things out of the kindness of their hearts. Hope this ain't a sign of changing leadership." Adam frowned as he walked along the road. "Sorry. I don't mean to wax on politics, I just don't exactly like or trust those Cram can wearing SOBs is all." He halted Bessie and opened the truck's passenger side door. He sighed a hopeless sigh as he dug around and found nothing but worthless ownership papers, an unspent 9mm round and a tire pressure gauge. Adam shut the door, but it just ended up falling off into the dirt. He could only sigh, "Nothing. Unless maybe you're hungry enough to eat a bullet.". He tossed the bullet to Lorelei and picked up the lead, refusing to let one failed dig through a wreck get him down, and said with a kind tone, "Come on, ladies." continuing further south.

"Not at all," Frieda replied quickly, before Steve or Edgar could attempt a response. "Steve, here, has dropped off a turret, or something like that." Frieda waved him over. "Steve, have you met Waylon? He runs the weapons shop. I'm sure he has the know-how to make sure your turret shoots at the right sorts of people. You can leave it." She flipped her hair over her shoulder.

“Of course he did,” Waylon commented under his breath. He wasn’t very fond of Steve and his place of business. Waylon handed Frieda a beer.

"Whoa," she began, accepting a beer from Waylon and eyeing up his rifle. "That's a sweet looking piece. Do you mind?" she held her hands out, Steve and Edgar completely forgotten. "You know your shit," she smiled slyly, handing the rifle back, after having turned it over in her hands a few times. Frieda took a sip of the beer. "Oh, cheers, by the way. Anyways, seems most folk somehow paste together whatever they can find that will fire a bullet. I stick to my pistol, more often than not. It's just what I'm used to." She pat the spot next to her on the rusted hood of the car. "You comin' up, or what?"

“I like these old rifles, cheers,” Waylon clanked his bottle against Frieda’s as he climbed up and sat down next to her when Steve came over and butt in as usual, Waylon rested his chin in his hand and listened.

“That is predominantly due to the higher level of maintenance required to keep plasma weaponry functional.” Steve replied as he finished setting up the turret “It was also relatively new technology before that war with replacement models and parts being very difficult to find and more than often hoarded by groups like the brotherhood or gunners. Likewise only a few groups like the enclave or instuite had the ability to produce new plasma weaponry and with them now both destroyed it will be many years before any faction, alteast in this region is capable of producing more.”

“I’m gunpowder and lead kinda guy I guess you could say.” Waylon turned and focused on Frieda acting as if Steve and Edgar where not even there.

"So, how does a girl like Brandy not know how to handle a gun properly, yet she's friends with the town quartermaster, huh?" Frieda smirked, taking another sip of her beer.

Waylon laughed and took a sip of his beer, “Well, I’m sure you’ve seen that she is a busy little bee. But, regardless, she doesn’t seem remotely interested in learning about firearms. I mean, she is the peaceful type and is a sweetheart. It does worry me though because if she were to ever get separated from one of us she would be I trouble I fear. I hope that she doesn’t listen to Shelby too much, that could get her into trouble. I saw Betty’s lip; I assume Brandy followed through with Shelby’s advice. I didn’t ask, that Betty girl Ace hired really needs an attitude check.”

Steve spoke “if I could have your attention for a second, I have finished setting up the turret, the targeting system should work fine but If for some reason you need to stop the turret click this button.” Reaching into his pocket Steve then pulled out a cateye pill and swallowed it before looking at his watch muttering...“20 minutes... should be enough.” Before turning his attention back to Frieda and Waylon “I’m going to scout out the atom encampment before going to bed enjoy your...er... Date.” Steve added on not 100% sure what they doing together. Steve then turned to Edgar who was still glaring at Waylon “Edgar, Edgar? Would you kindly come along now? We are going.”

Waylon drank his beer, his eyes never leaving Edgar’s; he didn’t trust either one of them at all. He watched them until they disappeared into the night sky before he turned to Frieda. “Don’t know about you, but those two guys drive nuts. I know Steve sure got Brandy worked up today to with his sign he put on Ace’s diner.” He got comfortable and smiled, “So, what about you? What brings you to Salem? It’s a new start for Shelby and I, we had to get away from a bad situation, especially Shelby.” He looked down at her plasma pistol, “So, you’re pretty good with those? We get some energy weapons in on trade but Shelby usually takes them apart. She’s made a welder out of the parts, pretty slick actually and she’s good with it.”

He polished off his beer, “You know, I bet Brandy loves having someone stay with her. She would linger around chatting until she was practically asleep at the diner. Like she didn’t want to go home by herself.” He smiled at Frieda, “She can ask a zillion questions, and some things go right over her head but I imagine she’s alright to live with. I know she has quite a bit of interesting inventions she’s built, and her moonshine, that’s some good stuff but you best, be careful otherwise you’ll end up on the floor.”

Waylon was keeping watch, but he concentrated on Frieda, there was a touch of mystery with her that intrigued him greatly. The way she carried herself, the way she sometimes fumbled for words like she was from a different kind of society. Nothing Waylon minded though, he liked that about her. The darkness began to give way to light, which brought a familiar thump of propellers with it. “Is that a vertibird?” Waylon pulled back the bolt on his SKS and readied it for trouble, Calypso? He thought until the Brotherhood insignia was visible. He nudged Frieda, “Is that Ace up on that roof?” He squint, “Looks like a generator dangling under that bird doesn’t it?”

After the excitement of the vertibird mellowed out, Waylon looked over at Frieda, “So…um, would you be up for dinner later tonight?”

Dr. Arthur West - Sunrise

The early morning sunrise crept out and over the horizon and Arthur woke to the sound of loud rotary blades cutting through the air. It was an unmistakable sound, and not one that his was particularly pleased to hear. It took him a minute or two, to truly register the sound and realize what it probably meant.

He quickly threw on his clothes and labcoat and rushed out the door of the church. It only occurred to him briefly after he'd exited that standing outside with an unknown vertibird flying around outside was probably not the smartest idea. He was quick to blame the early morning grogginess however.

Arthur looked to the sky and, sure enough, there was the tell-tale aircraft. He saw the craft first, and then he noticed the insignia on it. He let out an audible gasp,

"The Brotherhood..."

His thoughts immediately began racing with the possibilities. Who were they here for? Him? Rick? Or maybe...maybe Frieda..it was hard to tell. Perhaps they'd track one or all of them down somehow. Or perhaps Ace had figured it out and let his Brotherhood comrades know where to find them. He looked down and realized he was clutching his Institute pistol. Had he grabbed it on his way out? He couldn't remember. He'd been in such a rush he couldn't really be sure. What was he going to do? Shoot them? Run for it? He looked around desperately. Frieda wasn't in the clinic and he had no idea where Rick might be. He'd have to warn them. He'd have to..

Arthur stopped his train of thought as he noticed that the aircraft appeared to be carrying something. Not only that, but there was Ace: ready to meet the vertibird and its occupants. It was hard to tell what exactly the device they were carrying was, but from the looks of it, it seemed like of a generator of some sort. Brotherhood scribes dropped off from the vertibird began helping Ace set it up, and Arthur breathed a small sigh of relief....maybe they weren't here for anyone after all. The fact that The Brotherhood was here at all still left him uneasy however. If they even suspected where he'd come from, or Rick, or Frieda...well...they'd probably all be lining a wall blindfolded before the day was out. And he wasn't confident the town would shelter them if The Brotherhood had them in their sights.

He needed to talk to someone. Rick might know what to do, although he'd probably advise just to steer clear of them and lay low, at least for the time being. He hoped Frieda had seen them arriving too, and was coming to the same conclusions he was. Of course, she wouldn't know why he was so alarmed by them...that might make things a bit awkward...but nevertheless he'd still try and warn her if he could.

Once more he looked down, saw his pistol, and quickly stuffed it under his labcoat. He walked back into the clinic, hid it underneath his makeshift mattress, and then walked back outside: hoping to find Rick, Frieda, or both. To anyone else, he'd just say the aircraft had woken him up and he'd decided to go out for a walk.

Nothing out of the ordinary, just the town Doctor out for a morning stroll. Nothing more.

"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."

Shelby tapped her lips in thought, “Makes sense I guess. As far as whom Frieda is, I’m not sure, especially if she was involved with the mutie incident. I don’t like muties so I split and came back here. Maybe if I ever come across one of those spell books, can’t remember what exactly they were called, but maybe if I took my time and really studied I can find out if the stuff works.” Shelby looked over at Eliza sleeping, the sun had long since gone away for the night, she took a deep breath. “I can walk you home if you’d like? It’s been one hell of a day, I need some fresh air.”

FRIEDA RICHTER - head of main road into Salem -- night to dawn

Waylon laughed and took a sip of his beer, “Well, I’m sure you’ve seen that she is a busy little bee. But, regardless, she doesn’t seem remotely interested in learning about firearms. I mean, she is the peaceful type and is a sweetheart. It does worry me though because if she were to ever get separated from one of us she would be in trouble I fear. I hope that she doesn’t listen to Shelby too much, that could get her into trouble. I saw Betty’s lip; I assume Brandy followed through with Shelby’s advice. I didn’t ask, that Betty girl Ace hired really needs an attitude check.”

Steve spoke “if I could have your attention for a second, I have finished setting up the turret, the targeting system should work fine but If for some reason you need to stop the turret click this button.” Reaching into his pocket Steve then pulled out a cateye pill and swallowed it before looking at his watch muttering...“20 minutes... should be enough.” Before turning his attention back to Frieda and Waylon “I’m going to scout out the atom encampment before going to bed enjoy your...er... Date.” Steve added on not 100% sure what they doing together. Steve then turned to Edgar who was still glaring at Waylon “Edgar, Edgar? Would you kindly come along now? We are going.”

"Finally," Frieda sighed under her breath. "Yeah -- enjoy yours, too," she waved almost too jovially. She drew into herself for warmth as Waylon watched the pair retreat.

He watched them until they disappeared into the night sky before he turned to Frieda. “Don’t know about you, but those two guys drive me nuts. I know Steve sure got Brandy worked up today to with his sign he put on Ace’s diner.”

"Mm," Frieda replied, "I mean, I haven't been in town for two full days just yet, but something about how that guy just shows up everywhere is a little disconcerting. Almost suspicious. Kind of like the sign on the diner thing, he needs to just...pick a thing and stick to it. Oh!" she exclaimed, poking Waylon in the arm, "earlier tonight he walked by the diner dragging a fucking corpse and called it a 'blood bag.' The poor doc."

Waylon shifted and smiled, “So, what about you? What brings you to Salem? It’s a new start for Shelby and I, we had to get away from a bad situation, especially Shelby.”

"Something...sort of like that. I just didn't 'fit in' at home, anymore."

He looked down at her plasma pistol, “So, you’re pretty good with those? We get some energy weapons in on trade but Shelby usually takes them apart. She’s made a welder out of the parts, pretty slick actually and she’s good with it.”

Frieda's stomach dropped at the idea of someone merely scrapping energy weapons. Of course they would. Then they'd turn it into some kind of freak object like a welder. She swallowed hard. "You scrap these? That could be helpful, actually, if I ever need to replace a part," she said, instead, hoping her tone didn't sound too insincere.

Waylon downed the rest of his beer. “You know, I bet Brandy loves having someone stay with her. She would linger around chatting until she was practically asleep at the diner. Like she didn’t want to go home by herself.” He smiled at Frieda, “She can ask a zillion questions, and some things go right over her head but I imagine she’s alright to live with. I know she has quite a bit of interesting inventions she’s built, and her moonshine, that’s some good stuff but you best, be careful otherwise you’ll end up on the floor.”

"Oof," Frieda smiled, deliberately taking another drink of beer, "I think I might pass on that. Brandy's certainly...unique. I haven't met anyone else who was so trusting and generous. The opposite, though..."

"Well, anyway," she continued, "it's so unheard of, how sweet she is, that I almost don't even know how to react. She gave me a tour, pointed out all of her family photos, made me a drink. Some kind of cocktail, but I didn't like it. Showed me to my room, offered to do my laundry..." Frieda finished the rest of her own beer, then impulsively threw the empty bottle as hard as she could, over the turret and into the intersection. The turret popped to life, firing off a few rounds into the street, turning the pieces of glass into dust. The pop and roar of the bullets echoed much louder than usual in the still and otherwise quiet night.

"Fuck," she chuckled, turning to look back towards town. "Sorry, sleeping mmmmpeople!" she called, waving her hand, almost not catching herself in her slight buzz. Thankfully, Waylon kept watch in the road in her stead.

Frieda was glad Waylon had offered to help her with the watch. There had been no movement beyond the edge of town, and definitely no sign of approaching wounded Gunners. She forgot all about how she'd asked Barney to take over during the night.
The darkness began to give way to light, and an ambient hum that she didn't think abnormal, right away.

“Is that a vertibird?” Waylon pulled back the bolt on his SKS and readied it for trouble.

"Of course i--" she began dismissively, when finally the gravity of the situation hit her, completely. Vertibirds aren't really common sights out here, you idiot! A sudden fear gripped her, causing her chest to tighten. They'd found her. Somehow, they'd found her, and were coming to bring her back to face justice.

How was it that everything she knew and believed about the Enclave, her home, her family, was so wrong? Panic and doom began to cloud her mind. She was broken from her reverie by Waylon giving her a nudge.

“Is that Ace up on that roof?” He squint, “Looks like a generator dangling under that bird doesn’t it?”

...is it? Frieda leaned forwards and squinted, as well. She couldn't exactly tell if it was Ace, but she did finally catch a glimpse of the large crest that had been painted on the side of the vehicle: the sword, gear, and wreath. Brotherhood.

She wasn't sure, at first, if that was better or worse than it being the Enclave come to remove her from existence, but perhaps it didn't matter. "I don't know," she breathed, finally finding her voice and responding to Waylon. Frieda couldn't peel her eyes off the vertibird, watching it pitch before its pilot managed to get it level, then pulled it back up higher into the air and sailing off. She winced to see such clunky piloting.

"Who called the Brotherhood for a generator? And what are we going to have to give them, in return?" she mused aloud.

After standing quietly for a few moments, Waylon looked over at Frieda, “So…um, would you be up for dinner later tonight?”

"Oh, probably, I'm gonna power through the day as best I can without going to bed too early," she replied before really thinking about what he as really asking. Frieda felt her face flush hotly from embarrassment. "Oh, y-you meant...aha," she chuckled nervously. "S-sure, that'd be okay. Er, I mean, great. I mean, fun! Fun, and great."

The hell is wrong with you, Richter?

Frieda cleared her throat. "Listen, my regular gig is clinic guard, so I should try to find some coffee and get to that. I'll track down Barney and make him take his turn at this watchpost, so you can get back to your weapons shop. But, uhhh, I'll meet you there later today?" She reached out and gently squeezed his arm. His responsive smile lingered on her mind as she hustled back down the street, nervously lighting up one of her last cigarettes.

Frieda had never, in her life, received the attention of anyone who wasn't ultimately interested in just getting closer to her brother, and the thought of that was jarring. The air was still and crisp in the early morning while she made her way back past the road to the inn. Up ahead was a familiar figure -- the doc.

Her shoulders relaxed in relief. Forget coffee, the doctor must have some kind of enhancing substance back at the clinic she could use, just to get her through the next few hours. She'd grab a nap in the clinic in the afternoon, that way if she was needing, she could be woken up easily. Yeah, that's what she would do.

"Hey doc, you're up early. Doesn't even look like the diner's open yet -- er, wait, you said you didn't like his coffee. I don't blame you. I'm impressed that single cup I drank last night didn't create another hole in my stomach." Her words flowed quickly, almost anxiously. Frieda drew up close to the doc, glanced around then spoke her next words quietly.

"Listen, I was up all night standing watch at the town road, and that vertibird really threw me for a loop. I need something to help keep me alert for another few hours, until I have found Barney to take over for Waylon at the town road, and I've figured out what the deal is with the, ahem, Brotherhood...presence."

She sniffed, before continuing. "I have no reason to believe they would recognize or shoot me on sight, and I won't do same unless they give me reason to. They delivered some equipment, seems to me they aren't here for any other reason. But, just to be sure..."

Frieda tilted her head. "You all right? You think you have something for me?"

Steve cooper- night-time recon

Making his way up the small hill Steve kneed and perform reconnaissance on the child of atom. The camp which was built inside either a crater or perhaps cove seemed to be mostly built from a crashed airline plane although it was difficult to tell if they had brought the pieces or that plane had crashed here.

They would be the sort of people to do it.

Looking around the camp it was difficult to get fix on numbers, as most members were asleep inside the huts but looking at the guards it would seem they where decently well armed with “gamma” pistol and submachine’s guns but apart from one guy seemed to lack any notable armour.

Weak defences’ but strong weaponry... need to high the them quick and fast or become zombie.

Steve yawned; he was getting tired now “okay Edgar that enough recon for now... let’s call it a night...”
Heading back to the pleasure den Steve collapsed onto his bed. Usually it would take him awhile to nod off but with his body exhausted from the met/jet combo he quickly drifted off to sleep....

Morning- vetibird alarm clock

After several hours of peaceful sleep Steve was rudely awoken in the mid-early hours of the morning by the loud sound of rotary blades cutting through the air, the sound of a VB-02 Vertical Take Off and Landing (VTOL) aircraft otherwise known as vetibird.

Which groups of cunts is it this time?

As the name suggested the vetibird was a cool piece of per-war tech which could land and take off on the spot and not require a runway (good luck getting one of those that fixed) but like most high-tech per-war stuff it was hoarded by groups like the brotherhood or gunners who often used it to lord over others and have an massive tactical advantage during battle.

Having not gotten undressed last night Steve simply picked up his gun belt and went outside to see which group of assholes had dropped into town, presumably wanting to claim the town for whatever foolish cause their group had.

Walking outside it appeared the vetibird... brotherhood judging by the logo was dropping a fusion generator of all things onto the roof of the apartment block behind the church.

surprised no-one shot that down

Noticing Barney a short distance down the street Steve walked up to the town unofficial mayor “Barney do you know what’s going on? Why’s that vetibird dropping of the fusion generator.”

“Ace said he was making a deal with the Brotherhood for one.” Barney replied as some scribes grappled down from the vetibird onto the roof.

“Ace made a deal with the fucking ex-boy scouts? Do you know what he traded for it?”

“No, he just told me he was arranging a deal, hell I didn’t even know they where bring it here today or that they’d fly it in.” Barney replied “but if it was something big I’m sure he would have told me.”

“Time to find out.”

Leaving Barney Steve entered the apartment block and made his way up the roof. The vetibird had left now and the brotherhood scribes where installing the generator whilst chatting to ace who was standing nearby.

“Acey” Steve said knowing full well the Scribes could hear what he said to ace. “What sorta of deal did you make for this generator? I don’t want be owning these ex-boys scout wankers any "favours" or paying them a monthly fucking fee.”

Doctor Arthur West - Salem

"Listen, I was up all night standing watch at the town road, and that vertibird really threw me for a loop. I need something to help keep me alert for another few hours, until I have found Barney to take over for Waylon at the town road, and I've figured out what the deal is with the, ahem, Brotherhood...presence.I have no reason to believe they would recognize or shoot me on sight, and I won't do same unless they give me reason to. They delivered some equipment, seems to me they aren't here for any other reason. But, just to be sure..."

Frieda tilted her head. "You all right? You think you have something for me?"

"I lied to you Frieda," Arthur blurted out suddenly, unable to stop himself.

After he said that, he began looking around nervously both behind and in front of them, before adding in a much lower voice, "You're not the only one they could be after...we need to talk, but not here. Follow me back to my office."

With that, Arthur walked back to the clinic and up the stairs to his little second floor abode. Summer was still fast asleep on the bottom floor, and would probably not wake up with all the medication she was under even if they shouted to one another. Arthur motioned for Frieda to take a seat in one of the cushioned chairs,

"Wait here." He said simply, and disappeared back behind the doorway leading to the mezzanine before reappearing a few moments later with a small pristine white box. He hesitated for a few moments, but brought it forward with a renewed expression of determination and sat it down on the desk next to her and made no attempt to hide the vitruvian man seal stamped on it along with the words "Institute", "Assigned Nutrition," and "2110". He opened the box and pulled out a small light brown pill and offered it to Frieda.

"Its safe, I promise you," He added, "Its an energy supplement. Potent, but not dangerous. It should keep you awake and alert for the rest of the day. No caffeine crash either, and as a bonus, it takes like caramel coffee. Real coffee." Arthur gave a slight chuckle as he sat down, "We always popped these things like candy during final examinations, used to call them Dr. Volkert's study-buddies."

Arthur then gave a heavy sigh before continuing, "I owe you an explanation Frieda. I'm not...I'm not actually from a Vault. I'm not a Vault Dweller and I never was. I'm an Institute scientist. A head researcher with the Bioscience Division, " As he talked, he began slowly tracing his finger over the symbol on the box, "You've heard of us I suppose even if you haven't heard all the stories. The people here call us the boogeyman. They hate us and fear us in equal measure. And, to be honest, they are right to. The Commonwealth used to be our playground and we were..well..in some sense, gods. Materialize and de-materialize wherever we chose to, send our Synths to kill or crush whoever we wished, and puppet the people of The Commonwealth like marionettes on strings. That's what we did: and why we were cast down. The Commonwealth thinks The Institute and everyone in it was all wiped out..but that's not true. I'm here, and I'm not the only one."

He paused for a moment, and then got up and looked out the window of the church, towards where the Brotherhood were still helping Ace work up the generator, "If The Brotherhood were to learn who I was, they would have me pressed up to a wall and shot without question. In fact, I daresay that if anyone else in this town were to find out then they'd likely do the same. The Brotherhood coming in suddenly today made me realize something. Yesterday....you offered to help guard this clinic, but you need to understand just who and what you're really protecting here. You deserve that much at least, and if you want to reconsider your offer now then I'll accept that too."

Arthur let out another sigh and turned away from the window. Looking back at Frieda,

"I apologize for not telling you before, even after you told me who you were I still lied. You have to understand though that I know very little about the surface. And even though I was deep in the confidence of The Director of The Institute himself, I have no way of knowing what Father did or didn't keep from me. I know very well he kept terrible secrets from others: I was shamefully apart of those secrets, but for all I know, The Institute and The Enclave were at war and the mere mention of the name would have led you to shoot me."

A thought crossed his mind then. He stood silent for a few moments, contemplating it, before adding,

"I suppose that's still a possibility...in which case...I guess I just ask that you kill me quickly."

Inquisitor Carver - Crater House

"That would be wonderful. It'd be nice to have something different from Island food for once," he replied. The island's unique cuisine wasn't bad by any means, but after years of subsisting on it, Ian relished the opportunity to try something else.

"And yes, it was me at the Lighthouse. I had just arrived on the mainland that very day." Ian answered the previous question. "Suffice to say, a great many things have happened over the last ten years after I left with Confessor Martin. We've had many boons, but many taxing trials as well. By Atom's grace, our difficulties have lessened in recent days, and we have been able to turn our attention to reconnecting with our brothers in the other congregations."

It had indeed been a hectic few years. The tensions with Far Harbor and Acadia, the loss of several faithful including Confessor Martin, and the everyday dangers of the Island had not been easy to bear, but with the blessings that Atom had granted them, such as DiMA's generous aid, conversion of the Enclave officer Brian Richter to the faith and the surprisingly tempered wisdom of High Confessor Tektus, their congregation had endured.

"Many things have happened. We found the island that Brother Martin sought out, a strange land covered by a fog imbued with Atom's glow. We found a home, an old nuclear submarine base, where we obtained weapons, armor, and shelter. Unfortunately, things did not go well with the locals. When Atom's fog waxed in strength, it drove the unbelieving and unblessed locals mad. Those that survived, protected behind technology that held back the fog, blamed us for the fog. One of these local fishermen, murdered one of our missionaries. Brother Martin was overcome with grief and departed to parts unknown to us. Zealot Tektus took the reins and held us together. In time, despite his initial indignation for this injustice, he made peace with the locals, and in time we began trading with them."

Ian had not expected Tektus to make peace- the High Confessor was initially a ruthless, indignant man who preached bringing division to Far Harbor and ordered the Zealots, Carver included, to carry out the unpleasant duty of culling the unfaithful from the flock. Fortunately, Tektus saw the error of his ways- no doubt inspiration from Atom- and became a temperate ruler who made peace and opened the congregation up to the outside world through Far Harbor.

"It has been trying, Brother Abraham, but it was an inspired and worthwhile journey. Someday, you ought to make a pilgrimage there to commune with Atom's saint, the Mother of the Fog."

Sara Weaver
Sandy Coves Inn, Salem, Massachusetts - nightfall

Sara wasn't sure what to say as Celeste headed out into the town in the fading light. Everything had happened so abruptly, Celeste, this Inn, everything! She was feeling emotions she couldn't describe, urges she wasn't sure how to act upon. So as Celeste left the inn Sara remained seated on the counter, quietly on guard, rifle firmly clutched in her arms. She wanted to use this time to think about her feelings towards Celeste, whom to her was still a stranger but after an hour of sitting on the counter she started to stir in an attempt to keep herself awake. Sara was still exhausted from the trip down here but she made an obligation to stand watch at the door, no matter how comfortable her bed may have sounded right now.

Unfortunately it only took her a few minutes longer until her eyes had become too heavy to focus and she drifted off to sleep, slumped against the wall with thoughts of Celeste lingering in her head. Sara had lost all sense of time while she slept and it was only when Celeste returned that she awoke, quickly wiping the crust from her eyes and clearing the drool from around her mouth. She tried to play it off like nothing happened but Sara was obviously still clawing out of the miasma of a well needed rest.

Sara stiffened her posture and moved herself to the edge of the counter, her legs dangling off the side with her rifle lying across her lap. “Oh! Hey Celeste! Sorry I think I drifted off for a few minutes?” Sara paused to fully evaluate her surroundings and realized that from the dwindling light and drop in temperature that she was out for much longer than she originally thought. Embarrassed Sara stood up from the counter. “I'm going to head back to my room if you want to talk about your night.”

On her way back the hall Sara caught another glimpse of Celeste, she looked amazing and Sara stopped herself for a moment while she worked up the nerve to say something to her. With cheeks red from embarrassment Sara made a comment to her. “You're looking beautiful tonight. What I wouldn't give for a woman like you….” Sara froze after speaking, not fully realizing what she said until it was already said. Her head was still clouded by sleep, impairing her inhibitions. After she spoke she didn't want to wait for Celeste to respond, she already had an idea of what she would say anyway and she was thoroughly flustered now, to the point that she felt like crying.

With as much composure she could muster Sara headed back to her room, propping her rifle alongside be doorway. She left the door open and sat down on her bed, fidgeting with her pack of cigarettes until she finally got one free. Leaning out the window she sparked the cigarette, hoping that it and the cool evening air would help calm her down and ease her trembling.

FRIEDA RICHTER - Salem -- dawn

"I lied to you Frieda," Arthur blurted out.

Frieda blinked, confused. "You -- er, what?"

After he said that, he began looking around nervously both behind and in front of them, before adding in a much lower voice, "You're not the only one they could be after...we need to talk, but not here. Follow me back to my office."

Intrigued and worried at the same time, Frieda did as he asked. She glanced up to the apartment rooftop and saw little movement. He led her through the main floor to the stairwell in the back. Frieda couldn't help but yawn, herself, at the sight of Summer still passed out. Arthur stepped into what he had fashioned into an apartment for himself and indicated one of the chairs. She lowered herself onto it, realizing how stiff and sore her body was after sitting on top of that car all night.

"Wait here." He said simply, and disappeared back behind the doorway leading to the mezzanine. Frieda merely nodded and rubbed her face with both hands, just as Arthur returned a few moments later with a small pristine white box. Her eyes darted between the box and the doctor, her fatigued mind curious and waiting. He hesitated for a few moments, but brought it forward with a renewed expression of determination and sat it down on the desk next to her. There was a vaguely familiar vitruvian man seal stamped on it along with the words "Institute", "Assigned Nutrition," and "2110". He opened the box and pulled out a small light brown pill and offered it to Frieda.

"Its safe, I promise you," He added, "Its an energy supplement. Potent, but not dangerous. It should keep you awake and alert for the rest of the day. No caffeine crash either, and as a bonus, it takes like caramel coffee. Real coffee." Arthur gave a slight chuckle as he sat down, "We always popped these things like candy during final examinations, used to call them Dr. Volkert's study-buddies."

Frieda accepted the pill, rolling it over in her open palm for a moment. The whole rest of the day? This tiny thing? she thought to herself, more in awe than in doubt.

Arthur then gave a heavy sigh before continuing, "I owe you an explanation Frieda. I'm not...I'm not actually from a Vault. I'm not a Vault Dweller and I never was. I'm an Institute scientist. A head researcher with the Bioscience Division." As he talked, he began slowly tracing his finger over the symbol on the box, "You've heard of us I suppose even if you haven't heard all the stories. The people here call us the boogeyman. They hate us and fear us in equal measure. And, to be honest, they are right to. The Commonwealth used to be our playground and we were..well..in some sense, gods. Materialize and de-materialize wherever we chose to, send our Synths to kill or crush whoever we wished, and puppet the people of The Commonwealth like marionettes on strings. That's what we did: and why we were cast down. The Commonwealth thinks The Institute and everyone in it was all wiped out..but that's not true. I'm here, and I'm not the only one."

He paused for a moment, and then got up and looked out the window of the church, towards where the Brotherhood were still helping Ace work up the generator, "If The Brotherhood were to learn who I was, they would have me pressed up to a wall and shot without question. In fact, I daresay that if anyone else in this town were to find out then they'd likely do the same. The Brotherhood coming in suddenly today made me realize something. Yesterday....you offered to help guard this clinic, but you need to understand just who and what you're really protecting here. You deserve that much at least, and if you want to reconsider your offer now then I'll accept that too."

Arthur let out another sigh and turned away from the window. Looking back at Frieda,

"I apologize for not telling you before, even after you told me who you were I still lied. You have to understand though that I know very little about the surface. And even though I was deep in the confidence of The Director of The Institute himself, I have no way of knowing what Father did or didn't keep from me. I know very well he kept terrible secrets from others: I was shamefully apart of those secrets, but for all I know, The Institute and The Enclave were at war and the mere mention of the name would have led you to shoot me." A thought crossed his mind then. He stood silent for a few moments, contemplating it, before adding, "I suppose that's still a possibility...in which case...I guess I just ask that you kill me quickly."

Frieda had been listening politely and intently while Arthur spoke, rolling the pill around on her hand, and froze cold after he finished. Her eyes rose to meet his and she stood to her full height, pushing her shoulders back. "Don't be ridiculous," she replied right away. "I was once Enclave -- and, sure, a lot of my upbringing and conditioning has made the Enclave a part of my identity." She paused, then muttered, "for better or worse." She sniffed, then continued. "I'm familiar with your faction, but, heh, for what it's worth," she offered a small smile, "the Enclave is at war with everyone. Institute would have been no exception."

She cleared her throat. "Sorry, that probably wasn't very...comforting." Frieda ducked her head to look back out the window, towards the apartment building once more, and still saw nothing. She took a step closer to the doc, put her hand on his shoulder, and pulled him close. "I wish you hadn't lied to me, but there's nothing to be done about that, now. I appreciate that you told me the truth, even at great risk to your life, and safety. It's one thing for me to admit I'm Enclave to someone, because I have means to defend myself." Frieda squeezed his shoulder. "Your trust is not misplaced. Everyone's got a past, but the way I see it, you're one of the most valuable assets this dump of a town has. It was true yesterday, and it's still true, today."

She held up the Study Buddy pill. "I'm going to do the job I promised to do, partly because I won't back down on a commitment I made, willingly and on my own -- but also, because...well...because..." Frieda found herself feeling awkward, suddenly, and wasn't sure why. She held a deep respect for the doc, certainly liked him on an individual level, and had felt an odd sort of kinship over their shared histories of living separate from the world as it was. ...but, what else?

Must be because I'm coming off an all-nighter. She stuffed the pill into her mouth and chewed it before she could say anything more. Frieda smiled, not realizing she was still holding the doc's shoulder. "Brotherhood will have to go through me, first, and I don't go down easy."

Ace Makovich – Rooftop – Sunrise

Ace looked at the generator with a smile. It had cost a bundle and required careful and intensive negotiating to acquire it. The 2 scribes looked at Ace, he recognized them from the times he had visited the Egret Marina Compound. Senior Scribe Dan was a tall older fella, and was considered an average scribe as far as intellect. But when it came to fusion power, he was a genius, a master of the craft.

He had brought along his apprentice, Initiate Scribe Mike. He was tasked with learning and one day taking over Scribe Dan’s work. They pulled out some pads and tools and began to inspect the generator to ensure it hadn’t been damaged on the trip and when it was lowered. Ace looked towards the church and he could see people had woken up, and they were staring in their direction.

Ace was standing by the edge, when he heard Steve. “Acey…What sorta of deal did you make for this generator? I don’t want be owning these ex-boys scout wankers any "favours" or paying them a monthly fucking fee.” Steve said as Ace turned around to face him.

Ace furrowed his brow, and scratched his chin as if thinking, “Hmm…If there were to be a cost of the generator to be burdened on the town, I most certainly would’ve let people now and had it be part of as town debate…I took care of this…though to be fair I get income through everyone buying at diner, I guess yeah, everyone will be paying something.”

“Don’t concern yourself on how this little puppy came to be, that’s for me to worry about. Just be happy you and everyone in town will et to benefit from it, and it didn’t cost you a single cap. Though I do feel bad people were woken up,” He looked over the edge and he saw Betty making her way to the diner. She flipped him off when she saw him, being able to deduce he’s the reason she was awake. “Well, free coffee this morning.” He said as he looked back at Steve.

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

Betty yawned, as she unlocked the door and stumbled into the diner. She rubbed her eyes, and her hand hit the wall as she tried to find the light switch. She turned the diner sign to open, and made her way over to the counter. She sat down and leaned her face on her hand. She was falling asleep and her head nearly slammed the counter but she woke up at the last second.

She stood up and walked over to the coffee maker, but the tin with coffee was empty. She headed downstairs and turned on the lights to the cellar. She stopped when she saw brandy sleeping in the Ace’s room, and couldn’t help but roll her eyes. She went over to where the supplies were kept, and made extra sure to be as loud as possible.

She stopped on her tracks when she saw big bags with the picture of coffee beans on them. She grabbed one and made sure to stomp over to the ladder leading up, hoping all her noise would wake Brandy up. She left the hatch open as she walked over to the jukebox and blared the music, grinning as she did so. She opened the coffee bag, and it said it was vacuum sealed, whatever that meant. As she cut the top open, the bag expanded as air filled in, and the strong aroma of coffee beans permeated through the air. She put some on the pot and waited.

Steve Cooper- Morning

“Don’t concern yourself on how this little puppy came to be, that’s for me to worry about. Just be happy you and everyone in town will et to benefit from it, and it didn’t cost you a single cap. Though I do feel bad people were woken up,”

“For now.” Steve replied “and that’s the point, Brotherhood try and act legitimate but at the end of the day they still take what they want... Glorified Raiders and whatever deal you worked out might be okay now but what about next week? or the week after? ”

Looking over the edge Steve could see Betty looking up to Ace, flipping him off as she walked towards the diner “Well, free coffee this morning.”

guess I'm not the only one awoken.

“Portably should make that all day.” Steve chuckled, trying to get a extra cup “Anyway since it’s only a generator the brotherhood probably shouldn’t make to much of a fuss but next time tell people before making any deals with rival factions, even if you're covering all the cost. ”

“Next time they might not so friendly or alteast pretend to be.” Steve add on as he walked back to the apartment block staircase.

Alteast it wasn’t the minutemen... don’t wanna be dealing with ice cube...

Leaving the apartment block Steve lighted up an cigarette and made his way over to the diner where oddly considering it was 6am in the morning the jukebox was blaring music and betty appeared to making as much noise as possible breaking open a new bag of coffee. Breaking the Vacuum seal the diner was filled with a strong aroma of coffee beans

“I love the smell of coffee in the morning.” Steve chuckled “Acey said free coffees all day so I’ll take a black coffee B-bomb.”