Rachel Wilson - Commonwealth - Early Morning

Rachel had woken up with the sun, she wanted to take advantage of the day and do some scavenging. She looked at her updated map, it included common caravan routes. It meant those routes were safest, except most loot would be gone. Also, there were the few opportunists that waited for passing travelers to rob them. She made sure to avoid the caravan routes and head for the roads less travelled.

She surveyed the map, and made up her mind to head out west towards the cannery. From there she’d either head south towards Nahant, or North towards Salem. She grabbed her pack and water, leaving the nursery and setting out. She decided to cut across the forest, rather than head through the road. There were rumors of robots roaming on one of these roads, and she couldn’t remember which one.

As she reached the peak of the hill she could see The Slog, and Saugus Ironworks. She was tempted to head to the Ironworks, but it was dangerous, mainly because raiders liked camping out there. Every so often residents from the Slog and Minutemen from Finch Farm would go and drive them away or kill them, but they always returned, like cockroaches.

As she walked closer, she could see the Minutemen guards and flags. It seems they had decided to just take over the facility, probably to forge some iron and steel. The furnaces were smoking, so it meant they were in use. That meant, location would be off limits for scavenging. She walked across the bridge and stopped.

It was a scavenger’s paradise, an old junkyard. She had forgotten about it, mostly because the Gunners used to control it. However the Minutemen General had driven them from there, it had remained abandoned ever since. She began to hurry and was soon at the entrance. There was this old smell of rusting metal mixed with the fading smell of corpses.

Right at the entrance was decomposing body of a gunner, weapon and all. She put on an old rebreather. She made her way to the center of the junkyard and found a some structures. She found one she liked and placed her pack inside, along with some booby traps, just in case anyone tried to steal her stuff. Knowing her stuff was safe, she would be free to look for some good loot.

Lorelei Jones - Commonwealth Countryside

“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."

Lorelei stayed silent for a while as her eyes remained fixed on the terrain ahead, her intuition and memory creating an invisible path before the three of them. She had an almost scowling expression stretched across her face. “I didn’t see the vertibird.” She paused. “But if the Brotherhood is weaving their influence into this town, then I’ll be kissing Salem goodbye.” Lorelei sighed and pointed her rifle ahead, using her scope to gauge the horizon. “The Brotherhood of Steel only carries out something like this if there’s a distinct motive. We either have something they want, or they have something to gain by interfering with the town.”

Adam 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."

Lorelei shook her head and pursed her lips. “There isn’t going to be much of anything out here. But…that’s the cost of admission when you veer off the road. It’s quieter out here.” She swung her rifle around her back and retrieved her revolver. “Back when I lived in a grimy fifth-floor apartment in Goodneighbor, I dreamed of making it work out here…living off the land, finding a cottage in the middle of nowhere…” Lorelei sighed and shrugged. “I guess I’m still holding out for it, however fantastical it might be.”

At that, they continued down the road and Lorelei kept her eyes fixed on the horizon, waiting for the industrial towers of Lexington to finally protrude past the background.

Adam 'Trails' Wilford - Commonwealth Wastes

Adam watched as Lorelei shook her head and pursed her lips. “There isn’t going to be much of anything out here. But…that’s the cost of admission when you veer off the road. It’s quieter out here.” She swung her rifle around her back and retrieved her revolver. “Back when I lived in a grimy fifth-floor apartment in Goodneighbor, I dreamed of making it work out here…living off the land, finding a cottage in the middle of nowhere…” Lorelei sighed and shrugged. “I guess I’m still holding out for it, however fantastical it might be.” Adam shrugged, "Can make it work anywhere you want, hell, even a Deathclaw nest. All a matter of your own will." He turned and tugged the rope on Bessie, "A lot of good people have burnt out under that unforgiving sun. Me, I make no delusions on this life. Grateful for what you got, sulk on what you lost, hope to find something good."

Tucker Memorial Bridge

Adam cocked his head curiously, looking at the road sign. He should stay on course, but the bridge drew him. He made Bessie wait at the front of the bridge as he went ahead. It wasn't until his foot tangled on something did he realize he'd hit a trap. "Aw hell...LORELEI GET BACK!" He pushed Lorelei to the road and he landed on top of her, keeping his and her faces pushed to the asphalt as a bomb exploded and the bridge suddenly whooshed into flames. Adam slowly went to stand up, his leg aching from the landing. He wiped his forehead, seeing a streak of blood from the top of his right eyebrow, but it was clearly just a nick by the look of it. Adam helped Lorelei to her feet, "You alright, kid? I should have been more aware of my surroundings than that. Come on, let's go back on the route."

After a short trek west, they found themselves before the massive, looming ruins of Lexington, a billboard dubbing it 'Corvega Town'. Adam nodded in the noon sun, "There it is. Looks like you lead from here, chief. You seem to know this city better than I do." Adam began to follow Lorelei as she took the lead as they entered from the border between the wasteland to the urban jungle of Lexington. He didn't know why, but his guts were in knots. Maybe he just needed to take a piss, but something just felt wrong to him. What, he couldn't say. Maybe the Bridge incident just had him on edge.

CELESTE BROWN - Sandy Coves Inn -- night, to morning

"Thank you for a wonderful night, Celeste. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did."

"Oh Adam," Celeste gushed, swooning. "It was just...amazing. See you soon!" She squeezed both his hands in hers, before opening one of the double doors and floating into the inn.

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?”

"Hmmmmm?" Celeste hummed dreamily. She blinked once or twice before the reality of her setting fully dawned on her. "Oh! Well, that's quite all right. It is getting late, after all!"

Sara stood up from the counter. “I'm going to head back to my room if you want to talk about your night.”

"Talk? That sounds quite nice, actually," Celeste smiled. "I'll go get washed up, first, if that's okay?"

Sara lingered in the hallway, then her face flushed bright red. “You're looking beautiful tonight. What I wouldn't give for a woman like you….” Suddenly, she stopped mid thought, then left before Celeste could say anything.

Celeste blinked. "What a weird thing to say!" she replied, out loud. "She doesn't have to give anything, I'm already here." Celeste shrugged, then made her way back to her quarters to change. She rifled through her ruined dresser, pulling out a flannel shirt and some jeans. She pulled her dress up and over her head (which, truly, felt like she were peeling it off), buttoned up the flannel top, pulled on her jeans, and put her All American sneakers back onto her feet.

She stepped back into the foyer and Brandy's picnic basket caught her eye. Celeste peeked inside to see the chicken and moonshine were still there, untouched. "It'd be rude to just throw it out," she said to herself. She slipped her arm through the handles of the basket and made her way up to Sara's room.

"Sara, it's me, Celeste," she called a the doorway, giving it a knock. The smell of tobacco smoke wafted through the doorway. Celeste poked her head into the room and saw Sara leaning on the windowsill, lit cigarette in hand. "I brought Brandy's treats for us. I could use a snack, could you?" She plunked the basket onto the top of the dresser, removed one of the jars of moonshine and handed it to Sara, while she picked up the second jar and the plate of fried chicken. Celeste leaned over and gave the chicken another sniff. "Smells so good! We shouldn't waste it, on Brandy. Besides," she smiled at Sara, "she wants me to serve it to my guests, so really, you should be the one to tell me if it's tasty or not!"

Celeste held the plate out to Sara, before setting it down and popping open her jar of moonshine. She took a sip. Her entire face puckered at the initial burn of the distilled alcohol, before it smoothed out in her mouth and throat. "Wh...whoa. Yikes. That's got a bit of a recoil, huh?" She looked down at the jar in her hand, before taking another sip. The sip turned into a gulp. "It...it's kinda good, though, isn't it?"

She took another sip and started talking about her night. As she continued talking, describing the soft music, and how they danced, she started to notice that the room was beginning to just kind of slide around in her vision. "Is that supposed to do that?" she pointed at what she thought was a painting hung on the wall, but to anyone else looked like she was pointing at nothing in particular. "That's funny," she giggled. The last third of her moonshine sloshed in her jar. She'd ingested far more than she had meant to.

"I should...shhhhould go to bed," Celeste slurred, an apologetic smile on her face. She tried to stand up from where she had been leaning against the dresser, but found her muscles slow and unresponsive. She pitched forward, losing her balance entirely, but instead of falling onto the floor, she fell directly into Sara.

"Oh my god," she drawled, then hiccupped. "Sssssara I'm sssssso ssssssorry," Celeste continued to slur heavily as she sloppily tried to push herself up, awkwardly pawing on Sara's body as she did so. "Oh my god, oh my god," she repeated, giggling, feeling so foolish, yet unable to stop.

Finally, she seemed to be standing upright on her own two feet. "Okay," she began, putting both hands out in a halting gesture, "maybe...maybe we should just change rooms just for tonight. Yes, let's just do that. Unless you wanna sleep here, too. That would be okay with me." Celeste walked over to Sara's bed and fell onto it, idly aware of the smell of the soap on the linens. "That'll be fine, just fine," she assured out loud.

Sara's bed felt immaculately comfortable, just then. Celeste sighed contentedly and closed her eyes, her head positively swimming in the moonshine. It felt like the bed was turning in circles, but she didn't care. Sleep was falling onto her, and fast.

Sara Weaver
Sandy Coves Inn, Salem, Massachusetts, night to morning

As Celeste collapsed onto Sara her face immediately turned beat red. She was obviously surprised, but her embarrassment stemmed from the fact that she enjoyed Celeste's awkward pawing. Although with Celeste quickly falling asleep in her bed Sara wasn't sure how to proceed. She wanted to act on her feelings, at least touch Celeste for a brief moment, but she was too afraid.

Sara thought it best to take a few moments to gather herself so she got up from her bed and made her way into the bathroom. Once inside the cool tile room Sara closed the toilet seat and sat down, head clasped in her hands as she trembled ever so slightly from her anxiety. Her head was racing with so many possibilities, ways she could proceed and their inevitable outcomes. She doubted herself, her chances of success with Celeste. Sara was generally a very confident woman, sure of herself in nearly every aspect of her life. Except now her confidence had withered away, and she quickly started to doubt herself. “I'm not attractive enough. She likes someone else. I'm not the right person for her….” All of these thoughts played havoc on Sara's confidence.

She really liked Celeste, she made her feel emotions that she'd either never felt before, or hadn't felt for a very long time. As much as Sara doubted herself she wanted to try, but she still feared the rejection. She didn't open herself up to anyone, and the fear of getting hurt was part of the reason why. Still no closer to an answer Sara got up from her seat and headed back into the main room. Celeste must have fallen asleep by now, but the site of her laying in Sara's bed brought a warm, relaxing sensation throughout her body. Sara didn't want to do anything else but crawl in alongside Celeste and fall asleep with her warmth so close to her.

Deciding what she was going to do next Sara headed over to her dresser, opening a drawer and fetching a pair of men's boxers. She peeked over her shoulder to make sure Celeste was definitely asleep, and then shut the door into her room. Keeping her eyes trained on Celeste in case she woke up, Sara unbuttoned her pants and dropped them down around her ankles, before kicking them off. Sara noticed that the excitement of this whole thing was getting to her again and with Celeste so close she felt even more embarrassed now than she did earlier.

Regardless with her parents removed she slid on the boxers and unbuttoned her flannel, hanging it on the doorknob, and that was it, she was ready for bed. Men's boxers and a tank top was all she needed considering she normally got too hot if she slept in anything else, although she was afraid of there being an accident considering how she never wore a bra, and her top might shift during the night, plus her boxers were worn out and had a tendency to slip.

Sara tried to work those thoughts out of her head and started to clean up the mess from a few minutes ago. Placing the plate of chicken and Celeste's jar of moonshine on top of the dresser. In the process Sara cracked the lid and finished it off with a large swig, elated by the fact that Celeste drank from it just a few minutes ago. It was that feeling and the potency of the alcohol that caused her whole body to tingle. It was a familiar sensation but Sara hadn't drank a sip since she found out she was pregnant with Eli. Which felt like forever ago, back then Sara could drink anyone under the table but now she wasn't sure so sure of herself so she left her jar alone, placing it on the dresser as well.

Satisfied with the cleanliness of the room Sara nervously crawled into her bed, her heart started racing as she felt Celeste's warmth radiating off of her. With the sheets pulled over them Sara tried to settle in but she was far too anxious to get comfortable. For years now she would cuddle a pillow to help herself fall asleep, accrediting it to the sensation of loneliness she felt every time she was alone, and especially when she was in bed. Sara was ashamed to do it now though. She thought it was childish in the presence of Celeste. After all she cuddled a pillow like a child cuddled a stuffed animal, but Sara was too afraid to cuddle with Celeste. She thought about doing it and blaming the alcohol but she didn't want the sentiment to be lost. As scared as she was of losing Celeste she still wanted her to know how she felt.

Unable to work up the courage Sara clasped her pillow and pulled it close to her chest. She buried her face into it as tears started to run down her face and pool onto the pillow. Sara cried herself to sleep with the thoughts of Celeste still racing through her head, and the guilt of not having the courage to do anything about them.

Mary Hawthorne - S&W Weaponry - the previous evening

“The essential Saltes of Animals may be so prepared and preserved, that an ingenious Man may have the whole Ark of Noah in his own Studie, and raise the fine Shape of an Animal out of its Ashes at his Pleasure; and by the lyke Method from the essential Saltes of humane Dust, a Philosopher may, without any criminal Necromancy, call up the Shape of any dead Ancestour from the Dust whereinto his Bodie has been incinerated.” -BORELLUS

“Makes sense I guess", Shelby said, tapping her lips in thought, "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.”

"Sure", Mary replied, "That would be nice of you."

Later

"Thanks for helping me with the saddle", Mary said as she closed the pen, then reached out for the saddle, which Shelby was holding up with both hands. "I'll haul it inside....Good night!"

Shelby handed the saddle to Mary and after saying her goodbyes turned to walk away in the direction of the Diner. Mary walked up onto the porch and awkwardly opened the front door, and carried the saddle inside, putting it and the bridle on the sawhorse in the middle of the largely empty living room. She noticed the robots were no longer connected to the device Rick had attached to them to power them up.

"Hmmmm", she said quietly to herself as she scrutinized the dormant robots, "I need to ask Rick how to make you mind me before I wake you up, I think."

She went up to the second floor, and noticed the door to one of the spare bedrooms....the only one with furniture besides hers...was closed. No light could be seen from within, so she quietly opened the door a crack and peered inside, the moonlight revealing Rick's sleeping form on the bed. Just as quietly, she closed the door and went to her bedroom. Lighting a lamp, she then rummaged through her bags, producing several items including Wastelander garb with trousers, a pair of handcuffs, a stun baton, a large mason jar, a old military style flashlight, and ancient leatherbound notebook, and a sheathed machete. She then stripped nude, pulling her panties down and kicking them onto the floor, and then put on the Wastelander outfit. The machete was strapped to her back, the rest of the items went into a haversack. She then left and quietly descended the stairs. After retrieving some wrapped packages and a bottle of purified water from the refrigerator, she went into the living room and opened the front door a crack, peering out cautiously to make sure the coast was clear. Finding it was, she slid out and closed and lacked the door behind her. Staying in the darkness, she moved in the direction of the road leading past the Diner and out of town, steering wide of the Diner. Beyond it was the wall she had noticed the..what Shelby had called a mutie?...and some others had been building. It wasn't terribly far from where the old wooden palisades that protected Salem from the Indians so long ago had been raised.

"The more things change", she thought wryly, "the more they stay the same."

But it was still a problem for her purposes, prudent a measure as it was. Beyond the open area where the gate would doubtlessly go, she saw at least two people standing around talking. Sentries by the look of it. She could also hear the ticking of one of those infernal devices Barney called a turret.

"Damnation!", Mary thought, "I can't have them see me dragging a corpse into the Museum! Why on earth did they feel the need to push the walls out so far, anyway? I've got to get by them."

She followed the curse of the wall from the inside. It abruptly terminated in the ocean, no doubt where the deep water began. Mary shrugged, then wriggled out of her clothes and stuffed them in the bag, then slowly waded into the water, taking care to keep the bag above water. The mixture of the coldness of the water on her skin with the warmth of the residual radiation was a novel sensation, in a perverse way, she actually found it pleasurable. Careful not to make any undue noise, she slowly waded parallel to the shoreline, shoulder deep in the water, balancing the bag on her head. Eventually, she passed out of the line of sight of the sentries, who largely weren't looking out to sea anyway, and quietly made her way to shore. She decided at this point there was no reason to dress again, though she reequipped the machete and began moving towards the museum but was forced into cover when a seedy looking merc and a ghoul emerged onto the road from the direction of the Crater, then began walking nonchalantly back towards Salem. Once they were a safe distance past, she moved to see where they went and saw that they strolled past the sentries, who took little notice of them, and into town.

Now that she was finally alone, she went to the road opposite the Museum and approached the site where the cultists had tried to ambush Rick and her. Someone had looted the bodies, and a third one had been hung up by his heels from a tree nearby, but the bodies were otherwise undisturbed. She threw the cultist she had killed over her shoulder, and carried the corpse around the far side of the Museum, unlocking and quietly opening the door to the storm cellar and carrying the body inside, then reaching up to quietly close it behind her.


Museum of Witchcraft basement - not long after

She would have preferred to do this upstairs, so she could use the mock cell for the exhibits, but there was a chance someone might hear....but this spot would do well enough. Mary carefully poured the ashes in the mason jar on the floor next to the old steam register, careful not to scatter them, then slowly moved back, placing the empty jar on a old bookshelf beyond the line of candles she relied on for light, then turned to face the pile of ashes on the floor and reflected on what she was about to do. In her youth she had, like nearly everyone else in Salem Town, had feared and shunned Joseph Curwen once he reappeared in Salem in 1687, having run off to be a sailor nine years before....put off by his strange and reclusive behavior and obsession with strange books...it was still a wonder he hadn't been caught up in the Trials five years later. When she met him again, nearly eighty years later in Providence, she learned just how right people had been to fear him. Flush with his success, after so many years, at finding the right method, he had been desperate for some one to tell of his triumph, and as Mary was willing to be an appreciative listener as well as an accommodating bed partner, over the course of a year she learned much from him. He and his compatriots were long dead, overconfidence on Curwen's part gaining the deadly attention of hunters, so far as she knew she was the only soul still living familiar with their methods. While she had known those methods, never in the centuries since had she felt need to use them, until now.

She picked up the stun baton and handcuffs from on top of the open notebook on the stool next to her, took a deep breath, and began the incantation.

Y'AI 'NG'NGAH,
YOG-SOTHOTH
H'EE—L'GEB
F'AI THRODOG
UAAAH

No sooner did she utter the words than a cold wind blow through the stagnant and dusty air of the basement, and a foul smelling, greenish smoke began to billow up out of the pile of ashes. Mary had forgotten the smell....it was probably fortunate that she had not bothered to put her clothes back on. Her nakedness might prove of advantage when it came to what she was calling up anyhow. She quickly moved forward, and as a groan emerged from the smoke, followed by coughing, she thrust the stun baton into the heat of the smoke cloud and triggered the charge, yielding resistance and a pained yelp showing she had aimed true. The smoke dissipated to reveal a nude and hairless man, curled up into a fetal position and still twitching from the electric shock from the baton. Knowing she had only a few seconds to act, she cast the baton aside, out of her victim's reach, and overcame his feeble attempts at resistance to affix the handcuffs and cuff him securely to the old cast-iron register, then stepped back out of his reach as he gathered enough of his wits to try to kick her, a terrible look of triumph on her face.

The man strained hard, but in vain at the cuffs holding him securely to the cast-iron fixture, then looked around the room desperately, then finally focused on his captor, his expression a mixture of hatred and fear as he recalled the last thing he had seen before the darkness he just emerged from enveloped him, the woman before him shooting him in the head.

"You killed me, you bitch", he hissed, pulling in vain against his binds again, "I couldn't have survived what you did to me."

"You didn't", Mary replied evenly, "I would have demonstrated my true ability when we last met, but virgin eyes and ears forced me to use more....mundane methods to deal with you. So I had to bring you back."

"You're no common Wastelander...that much is clear", the man said grudgingly, "So let's cut the bullshit...what do you want?"

She walked up and knelt next to him, the calf of her right leg up against his left, and smiled in a predatory manner.

"I have some questions", she said simply, "and I'll do whatever I need to do to have answers to them." She then reached down and took his member in her right hand and gently stroked it, the cultists eyes blazing with hatred as he responded to her touch in spite of himself. "What lengths I need go to is entirely up to you."

"Fuck you", he replied, spitting full into Mary's face, "You'll kill me anyway."

"Of course I will", Mary replied as she calmly scooped up the glob of spittle from her face and idly licked it from her fingers, all the while continuing what she was doing with her right hand, as the spell wouldn't work if she let his actions distract her and stop talking too soon, "It's not personal...I certainly cannot let you go after what you've seen, only a fool would do that. I can promise, however, that if you cooperate, I'll make it quick...and see to it you're not brought back again by me or anyone else. I'll even do what you want as a final request, as long as what you would have me do won't injure me...much." She then added "no kissing though."

The man grew oddly calm, and finally listened as she continued to speak, the charm spell taking hold without him even realizing it. Finally, he opened his mouth to speak, but then a horrid growl emanated from his stomach, causing him to wince with pain.

"Hungry, so hungry!", he said pleadingly, "For fucks sake, it hurts!"

"Oh yes", Mary replied, "I almost forgot about the hunger."

She let go of the cultist and rose to her feet, and retreated to the next room where her bag was. She extracted the wrapped packages, gathered them up and went back to the man, crouching beside him again in the same fashion she did before, and let the packages fall to the floor next to him. She picked up one and opened it, revealing cuts of venison, or "Rad-Stag" meat as they called it now.

"Here", she said as she leaned forward, drawing close to the man as she help up a strip of raw venison within reach of his head so he could easily reach it, and in a gentle manner fed the contents of the package to him one strip at a time. Once the package was empty, he leaned his head back against the wall and sighed with relief.

"This isn't going to stop..", he finally said, his voice heavy with defeat, "...is it?"

"No", Mary replied, not without compassion, "not in the amount of time left to you." She glanced down at the remaining packages of meat and back to him. "I warrant I have enough here to last a couple hours before I have to go find more. And what you'll feel awaiting my return will likely be more painful than anything I could do on purpose."

"Fuck it", he said bleakly, "You win. I'll take your 'deal'. I'll tell you what you want to know as long as you put me down fast and let me stay down...forever."

"Very well", she replied, "and your last request?"

"Draw a little closer", he said, parodying some old song "and let me whisper in your ear". Mary humored him by drawing so close she was now pressed against him and let him whisper into her ear what he wanted to do to her, her eyes widening a bit as he outlined his proposal....it was shockingly perverse but she had to admit that it was somewhat original, not to mention something she hadn't done before. For the most part. And in that combination. Or even with the same man. It was not what she had expected, but the charm was subtle and the exact results couldn't be predicted...and in any case she had done things that were far worse to get what she wanted. Once he was finished whispering, she moved her head back slightly and looked him in the eye. "believe me....I wouldn't want to kiss you after that", he added with a resigned chuckle.

"You're a sick bastard, you are", Mary replied with a shrug and a small laugh, "but my word is my bond. It's something I can do without undue injury, so I will do as you ask."

"Before I start with my questions", she continued, "Would you like something to drink?"

Rachel Wilson – Hub City Auto – Early Morning

Rachel sat on a bench by the shack were her stuff was. She looked at some of the parts she had scavenged, but there was so much more to loot. However, she couldn’t stay there. Even though the bodies had been killed over a year ago, they were still decomposing, and were left to rot in the open. She knew that could mean some sort of disease, and couldn’t rely on her re-breather 24/7. She’d need somewhere to stash her goods.

She pulled out her map, and began to look for somewhere to stay. The Slog was the closest settlement. However, if they saw her going back and forth, they might think it’s safe to scavenge, and muscle her out. Finch Farm was close, but being a Minutemen settlement, they may take issue with number of weapons she brought in, and might even tax her. Salem was a viable option. It was a newish settlement, no affiliation, and far enough not to draw attention, and close enough to make it a daily trip.

She looked back at all the stuff she had collected, and scratched her head. Too much to carry, she’d have to buy a Brahmin one of these days to help carry her stuff. She grabbed a canvas blanket and loaded some stuff on it, she threw it over her shoulder after putting on her pack, and headed out towards Salem.

Rook – Rook's Shack – Morning

Rook had put in a lot of work. The base line for the wall was done, as where about two thirds of main, ground based supports. That was, at very least, a good framework. He had planned on continuing, but he was simply exhausted. Even his muscles needed some rest, and he was glad after it all. He had heard the vertibird, he knew it was either Enclave or Brotherhood, neither of them were very friendly with his kind, but he was too tired to care, and simply rolled over.

Which was sad really, but then again, it only took a few bad mutfruit to ruin a bunch. He had slept for a few hours, and when he awoke to the relative silence of the morning, it was warmer, so he knew it was mid-morning at least. He had a lot of work to do, but today he was not going to do it alone. He put on some simple clothing, discarded the bandage on his arm, the wound had healed in short order, and he was now going to make sure things went right.

He would trudge his way to the center of town after eating a quick breakfast, grab one of the old logs, and drag it to an area. From there, he would simply sit down, his eyes partly closed as he worked upon a small patch of dirt. Yes, he was going to burn up the time he could be building, but now was the time to either find friends to help make this, or he was going to sit here, all day, until they got up to help themselves to building the wall. Either way, Rook was working on his new designs for the wall in the patch of dirt.

This one was updated, showing the two gates he had the base lines for, but he also knew there was a lot more he needed to do as well. The wall was going to need to be patrolled. Hopefully Mr. Rook-Mayor had a plan for that. Next was the powering of the gates, but someone said they had that one figured out. After that was simply making sure everything was in place, properly welded down, and cemented in. Rook had an idea, but it was one that was with it's own risks. He was going to need to make a few things if he was going to do this properly.

CELESTE BROWN - Sandy Coves Inn -- dawn

Something woke her just around sunrise. What was it? Some kind of loud whirring.

Or was that just the pounding in her head?

Thump thump thump.

...nope, that was a knock on the door. Celeste opened her eyes slowly, the meagre sunlight causing her to wince, even then.

The knock came again. "Manager Celeste, are you there? Are you well?"

Celeste made to reply, her voice coming out as a choked gargle. She sat up and swayed, immediately reaching up to hold her head. Archie knocked yet again. "Y-yeah, I'm coming," she squawked. She crab-walked down the length of the bed in an attempt not to disturb Sara, rounded the corner, and opened the door. "I'm here."

"Oh, thank goodness! I had almost thought you had disappeared during the night. You weren't in your room, and I checked all the other rooms for you. This was the last one to check, and I didn't want to, ahem, disrupt a paying guest."

"It's fine, Archie, thank you for...for...one second," she held up a finger, whipped around to dash into the bathroom, and vomited into the toilet. She panted, then hurled again, trying not to get her hair caught in the way.

"Oh dear," the robot cooed. "Was it something you ate?"

The mere suggestion of food was enough to cause her to throw up yet again. Her stomach seized painfully, squeezing itself, though it was quite empty by then. She wiped her mouth on her sleeve, stood slowly, then left Sara's room, gently closing the door behind her. "Moonshine," she finally offered. "Just a bit too much." Celeste squeezed her eyes shut, willing the dizzy spell to end quickly. "I think I should lie down for a bit." She wobbled past the robot and slowly moved down the stairs. On her way through the lobby, she noticed the plate of scones still sitting out. She picked one up and carried it to her room. Once on her bed, she shed her shoes and stared at the scone, willing herself to take a bite, but her stomach turning at the very thought. Instead, she elected to just set it down, and laid back onto her bed.

"Brandy, that sure is some potent stuff," she sighed out loud. Archie floated in, carrying a glass of water and sat it onto the night stand next to the scone.

"Shall I fetch you some pain killers, manager?"

"Ah...yeah, yeah that sounds good," she panted, trying to keep herself from having to get up and be sick, again. "Close the curtain, please?"

Rick Noel – Salem – Early morning

Rick groaned and slowly opened his eyes, as he heard a whirring sound. The sounds of blades cutting through the air a t high speed, the unmistakable sound of a helicopter. He grabbed a pillow and placed it over his head and tried to muzzle out the sound, and luckily soon it had gone. With the quiet sound returning he sound placed the pillow back, and closed his eyes to go back to sleep.

He suddenly sat up on his bed, realizing what he had heard, a vertibird. He stumbled out of bed and slammed to the ground. He reached for his clothes sitting on a chair and frantically got dressed, mostly likely causing quite a ruckus. As soon as he had his boots on he grabbed his rifle, darted through the door, down the stairs, and out of the house.

He looked up in the sky, but it was long gone. He looked over to an apartment building behind the old church, and there stood Ace along with two other people. The other two were strangely dressed, and he tried to recollect where he had seen those outfits. It then dawned on him, Brotherhood. The vertibird was there, as he wasn’t aware of any other group using them, and those on top of the apartment were most likely scribes, since they weren’t in power armor.

They were enemies of the institute, and them being here worried him. He headed over to the clinic to check on the doc. He walked in while looking around up in the sky, “Hey doc, you here?... I take it you saw vertibird in the sky…” He turned around, and no one was in the first floor, wondering if the doc was perhaps upstairs, but he was unsure whether to go up. He stood there just thinking on what to do next, while savoring the arome of brewed coffee, coming from the diner.

OOC: I'm assuming Summer is still out like a light so they can talk freely.

Dr. Arthur West- Salem Clinic Church

"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..." She stuffed the pill into her mouth and chewed it before she could say anything more. Frieda smiled, "Brotherhood will have to go through me, first, and I don't go down easy."

Arthur sighed in relief,

"Thank you Frieda...I...appreciate that. Its hard for me to find loyal friends on the surface, and harder still to find ones to always rely on. I'm glad that you seem to be both. Perhaps...perhaps we can help each other out in that way. I..."

He was about to say more, when he heard a familiar voice calling from the first floor.

“Hey doc, you here?... I take it you saw vertibird in the sky…”

He turned back to Frieda, "Ah, that'll be Rick...come on, I'll introduce you properly now that...well...now that the cards are on the table as it were."

Arthur walked down and found Rick staring up nervously at the sky, "Good morning Rick. Yes, indeed I saw them," He began, "In fact, I was just having a conversation with Frieda about their arrival here. She was just as concerned as we were, albeit for different reasons," he paused for a moment, judging Rick's reaction before continuing, he then looked to Frieda and then back to Rick, "Frieda...this is Rick Noel. I'm not sure if you were properly introduced yet...but, well, he's an...associate of mine. I've told her who we are Rick. I believe we can trust Ms. Richter far better than we might trust any of our other informants on the surface. She doesn't have any reason to hate us, and indeed, sympathizes with us far better than anyone else might. I'm not an SRB Agent, I know, and perhaps I overstepped myself, but we need friends out here..."

Hooded Wayfarer - Outside Crater House

In the darkness of the early morning hours, just before the sun had peaked up over the horizon, a stranger in a tattered cloak approached the site of Crater House. In his gnarled flesh-stripped hands he gripped a walking staff to steady himself, and he walked hunched and with a crooked gait. Attached to the staff by chain was a glowing censer, which lit his way like a lantern while about his person the jangling of glass bottles could be heard. The bottles were similarly illuminated with various substances, and could easily been seen through the dark. Many people might find such radiant light sources detrimental and even harmful when traversing the wastes, but the robed individual had no such concerns. Atom provided all the protection he required.

With great effort, he made his way to the front of the Crater House door, inspecting the surrounding area and noting the lights of a wasteland town in the distance.

He knocked on the door of the radioactive sanctuary three times with his staff, and waited patiently for someone to answer.

Seconds later, an individual dressed in the attire of an acolyte of Atom answered. He looked over the stranger suspiciously with a discerning eye,

"Who...are you?"

"A simple traveler and fellow worshiper of Atom," the hooded figure replied, "Only seeking rest from the harsh wastes in the company of his brothers and sisters."

"I see..." The acolyte replied, "Then...welcome. Our doors are always open to fellow disciples of the Holy Light. Please, enter and rest yourself. I'll fetch some food and water for you."

"Thank you," the stranger replied. And entered the Crater. He took a seat on a nearby torn cushioned chair. He waited patiently for the acolyte to return with a simple metal tray of irradiated water and some mutfruit. The stranger merely took the water and gulped it down greedily.

"Is there...anything I can do for you?" The acolyte asked once again.

"Yes," The stranger looked up, the slight glow of his eyes now visible and parts of his mutated face not covered by bandages becoming illuminated, "Please, I'd be very interested to speak to your Confessor or whoever leads this congregation...or might speak for them."

FRIEDA RICHTER - clinic -- early morning

“Hey doc, you here?... I take it you saw vertibird in the sky…” called a voice from below.

He turned back to Frieda, "Ah, that'll be Rick...come on, I'll introduce you properly now that...well...now that the cards are on the table as it were."

Properly? Frieda raised an eyebrow and followed the doctor down the stairs.

"Good morning Rick. Yes, indeed I saw them," He began, "In fact, I was just having a conversation with Frieda about their arrival here. She was just as concerned as we were, albeit for different reasons," he paused for a moment, judging Rick's reaction before continuing, he then looked to Frieda and then back to Rick, "Frieda...this is Rick Noel. I'm not sure if you were properly introduced yet...but, well, he's an...associate of mine."

Frieda took a better look at Rick and recognized him as the man with the bad lunch from the day before. "Huh," was all she managed to reply. The doc turned back to Rick.

"I've told her who we are, Rick. I believe we can trust Ms. Richter far better than we might trust any of our other informants on the surface. She doesn't have any reason to hate us, and indeed, sympathizes with us far better than anyone else might. I'm not an SRB Agent, I know, and perhaps I overstepped myself, but we need friends out here..."

Something was...happening. The ambient light seemed brighter, or at least, more...yellow. Yellower? Was that even a word?

Frieda reached up and rubbed her forehead with the back of her green-coloured sweatshirt sleeve. Rick and Arthur continued to talk while she slowly turned on the spot, looking around, finding it impossible not to notice all the small, minute details. The bandage pile she had made the day before was just slightly unbalanced and leaning towards the left. Dust particles danced in the sunbeams gently shining through the window.

Any thought of sleep was long gone. She unhooked her plasma pistol from her belt, gave it a quick operations check, then clicked it back onto her belt. "Who else knows about your...affiliations? Anyone?" she posed to both men, inserting herself into the conversation once more. "If the Commonwealth wastelanders hate your...origins as much as mine, my guess is you have either kept it quiet or only told trusted folks. Let's just keep it that way, for now." She glanced back around, out the window and into the street. "Doesn't seem like they dropped off much more than a generator. No troops, artillery, anything like that." She turned back to Arthur and Rick. "Best thing to do is just act casual. Go about treating patients like usual, and...uh..." Frieda looked at Rick. "Whatever you do best. What is it you do?"

She looked across the street towards the diner and saw some movement within. Frieda remembered Waylon at the road and watched Barney sit himself into a booth by a window. A mouse scuttling out of a crack in the foundation dashed down the street and into another shadow. She turned back to the doc. "I'll be back in a bit."

Frieda jogged across the street, up the ramp, and into the diner. She ignored Betty all together and slipped onto the opposite bench in Barney's booth.

"Well, good morning, Frieda. You're looking...fresh..."

"Yeah, yeah, thanks," she waved her hand, noticing the stubble on Barney's neck and pimple on the hairline of his forehead. She cleared her throat. "Waylon and I spent all night at the head of the road keeping watch for those Gunners moving north. You, or someone like you, needs to take a turn. That's not unreasonable, right?"

Barney huffed. "I'm having my coffee."

"Bring it with you," she cooed, sliding the mug towards her and holding it hostage. "Head of the road. Now."

Barney stood and took his mug back. "I'm only gonna remind you once that you work for me," he grumbled, making his way to the door but not before plunking a couple caps on the counter.

"Or what, you'll fire me? Between Gunners and random visits from B-- raiders, gonna go ahead and suggest you need someone who knows how to aim a gun."

Barney grumbled some more, then exit the diner completely.

"Hey! You gonna order, or what? That ain't a park bench, ya know." Betty stood behind the counter, hands on her hips, tapping her foot. She had a freckle on the side of her face and some loose hairs on the back of her neck that didn't make it into her ponytail.

Frieda's fingers twitched. The Study Buddy pill was something else, to be sure. She left the diner and headed back towards her and Brandy's house, hoping the younger woman would have some more smokes lying around the house. She felt completely energized, though craving a cigarette. She skipped, then jogged back towards her house. Frieda walked into the house and looked around, surprised that Brandy wasn't awake yet.

Geez, how'd she sleep through the vertibird being practically over her house? Frieda didn't want to disturb Brandy and took to rifling through drawers in the kitchen.

Ace Makovich - Salem - Early Morning

Ace looked over to Dan as he was taking some reading from a device. Radioactivity levels were normal, well wasteland normal, no emanation from generator. They were still making sure the generator was not damaged in transit, and from looks of it everything was in tip top shape. They would be able to test it out soon, and make sure it’d generate power.

Prior to all these people arriving to the town, Ace had worked with Barney on connecting homes with wires along the old light posts. They had salvaged most of the existing wiring, and Ace had ensured it was shielded well enough to ensure they worked as needed. Wires were also fed won to the basement of the building, were they connected to purifiers that were hooked up to the water system for the town, as well as the water table, were water was pumped and fed into purifier.

A lot of work had been done to get the basic utilizes back up and running, and soon it would all be put to the test. However, he would need to make sure streetlights were not connected, just as a precaution, at least until the wall was built. Ace looked around for his tool box all around the roof and then soon realized, he had left it in his cellar.

Ace excused himself and headed over to the diner. Steve was enjoying a cup of coffee, and Betty gave him the stink eye, for waking her up. He headed over to the jukebox and turned the volume down, as music was blaring. Betty scoffed as she turned away from him and flipped her hair. He headed downstairs, and took a look inside his room, finding Brandy there. He took a seat on the bed and kissed the top of her head, “Morning there. Did we wake you up, if so Im sorry.”

Lorelei Jones – Lexington

“There it is... Looks like you lead from here, chief. You seem to know this city better than I do.”

Lorelei narrowed her eyes as the gargantuan structures of Lexington loomed ever closer. She gulped. The idea of returning to this place was far more attractive than the present reality; who knows what had become of this place in the year since she’d wandered its streets. Her merciless grip on her sidearm tightened and she trudged ahead of Adam, leading him to the front entrance of the town.

Something became immediately and unfortunately clear – the place reeked like a forgotten corpse. Lorelei pursed her lips and pressed on, leading Adam into the confines of the town. From here, the town forked into two roads – one leading to a ruined residential mess and another that shot directly into the sprawling urban sculpture that made up the industrial sector of the town. Between the fork was a quaint donut shop with a wistfully jolly sign on the top, although any joy to be found in the personified donut had been eroded by rust.

Lorelei shuffled inside and stood in the half-collapsed donut store. She sighed. “The old packaging plants and factories always stand the test of time, but these cute little places?” She frowned and lightly kicked at a piece of rubble. “…never stood a chance.” She looked at Adam. “If you’re a nostalgic type, this sort of town gnaws at you a little bit…it’s sad, really – these forgotten bits of the old world. If I’d been brought up in the olden days, I would have been addicted to places like this.”

Lorelei folded her arms and sat down on one of the withered barstools. “I suppose I have my father to thank for that. I didn’t have to think about the reality of things until I was older. He wanted me to have my own little world.”

Adam 'Trails' Wilford- Lexington

Adam followed Lorelei into an old doughnut and coffee diner, watching Lorelei when she stopped center of in the half-collapsed donut store. She sighed. “The old packaging plants and factories always stand the test of time, but these cute little places?” She frowned and lightly kicked at a piece of rubble. “…never stood a chance.” She looked at Adam. “If you’re a nostalgic type, this sort of town gnaws at you a little bit…it’s sad, really – these forgotten bits of the old world. If I’d been brought up in the olden days, I would have been addicted to places like this.” Lorelei folded her arms and sat down on one of the withered barstools. “I suppose I have my father to thank for that. I didn’t have to think about the reality of things until I was older. He wanted me to have my own little world.” Adam had been listening quietly as he looked around the shop and a spark lit his eye as something caught his eye. Adam bent over and pulled up a box of Fancy Lads and opened it, eating as he spoke up. "Not really the same for me." He swallowed his mouthful before continuing so he wouldn't be mumbling, "To you, all this is nostalgic and wonderful. It's still new to you. I've seen it all before though. The ooh and ahh wears off after a while. Eventually every building just becomes a mass of epitaphs of hundreds of Old World people you never knew."

Adam put the box down on the counter, "That's the surreal part of getting used to being a scavenger. Think about it, you're in your bedroom and some guy comes in digging through your stuff. Now imagine the discomfort of someone doing it 200 years later. Those rooms we scavenge, those were once places personal and private to someone. That's the real nostalgia of the Old World." He lifted a decorative coffee mug and tilted about in front of Lorelei, "This? It's just a mug. Ain't nothing nostalgic about it. It's rooms with a story, the story of the men and women who made the Old World. The people who made that world, you know?". Adam walked around the counter, digging through a purse laying on the counter, only finding a few dollars, some make up and an old ID. Adam sighed, "Kid, the old world may be nostalgic, but you gotta face the truth. We can think we're keeping the Old World alive in our appreciation for things they did, things they had, but the truth is, you and I are glorified grave robbers, plundering the graves of the sorry souls who got nuked or died in the radiation aftermath." Adam shook his head, "Your daddy may have meant well, but he didn't do you no favors keepin' you in lala land. Being nostalgic for a world that's gone and living in a world that's ashes and rubble is what is. We build a new world over the devastation of the old."

Deciding he'd had enough downer talk, he went back around the counter and picked up the coffee cup. "Ma'am, you look like you need a pick me up. $5 and a hot cup of coffee is yours. He turned to the metal coffee maker and hit the pour switch and, much to his surprise, liquid came out. Instead of hot coffee, a cool mixture of disgusting coffee sludge and rust came out. Adam tried to keep a straight face until he took it to the counter. "Here you are, our special blend. A house secret and it's all yours for only $5. I'd call that a steal!" His lips curled inward until he finally snorted and broke out into laughter. "I didn't expect it to actually pour anything, to be honest. I just wanted to cheer you up, but that's even funnier!"

Eliza Weaver
S&W Weaponry, Salem, Massachusetts - morning

Eliza awoke to the faint morning light trickling through the curtains of Shelby’s bedroom. She was alone, and the room was eerily quiet but as she started to shake off the burdening crust of sleep she felt a huge relief, as if an enormous weight was lifted off of her. Wiping the crud from her eyes Eliza sat up in the bed allowing the bed sheet to collapse off of her, exposing her bare frame.

Stretching her tense muscles with a pleasurable shiver Elia felt as if she had molted in her sleep. She felt great, much better than she could remember feeling in a long time. Except she wasn’t entirely sure of what had happened the night before. Obviously she crashed hard, but her body and mind needed it.

Still exposed Eliza crawled to the edge of the bed, dangling her legs off the side. Her wound had healed but as she continued to gather herself she could start to feel the dull ache of the injury. Undeterred by the pain Eliza stretched her legs, it felt like she was working cobwebs out of her joints but the pain was not nearly as severe as she anticipated. Cautiously she stood up from the bed still unsure of her condition. Her legs shook as they struggled to reacquaint themselves with supporting the weight of her body. Although with a few cracks and pops Eliza was on her feet once more.

Her immediate thoughts were of Shelby. She couldn’t wait to find her, after all she could stand on her own two feet again. She could walk! Even if it was with a limp, and even if she was unsure of how long she could walk. It didn’t matter she was recovering nonetheless. Eliza wasn’t sure if she should be accrediting the start of her recovery to her resilience or the treatment she had received. Although she wasn’t entirely sure of what had happened the day before, or the day before that, in all honesty the past few months were a blur. She couldn’t even remember how she got shot.

“How long was I out?” Still standing Eliza wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth as she stumbled towards the window, parting the curtains she reacted herself against the window the cold glass sending shivers through her body. “Somebody must’ve given me something. Was it Shelby? This is her place, I remember seeing her...but when? Was it here?” Eliza needed to sit down and gather her thoughts. Her head was a mess right now and while everything seemed familiar it also seemed so foreign to her. She’d hoped that this wasn’t all just a dream but with how she was feeling she couldn’t be too sure that it wasn’t. Sitting down on the windowsill Eliza gazed out the window, the town was so peaceful in the morning. This must be her home, it has to be because no other place would make her feel like this.

Brandy stirred as she felt a draft under the sheets, unaware that Ace had gotten up and the cool air under the sheet was from him getting out of bed. She snuggled up under the sheet, pulling the blanket up also. She usually slept good, but had been slept far better being in her lover's embrace. It was short lived, as a racket came from the freezer room. She peeked shyly from under the covers with a smile, quickly becoming a frown followed by a sigh when she realized it was Betty. She acted asleep, rolling over to notice the bathroom light was not on and that Ace must've gotten out of bed.

She is such a jerk, she silently thought to herself. Betty banged around, stomped, anything that would annoy a person sleeping, Betty did it. When the hatch slammed back down Betty continued to be loud, her footsteps thumped through the floorboards. Brandy grabbed Ace’s pillow and pulled it over her head, “YOU JERK!!!” The pillow muffling her scream and she turned to her stomach, eventually falling back asleep.

“Morning there. Did we wake you up, if so I'm sorry.” said Ace.

Brandy turned to look up at him, her green eyes sparkled in the low lighting. “Good morning Honey,” she smiled, then she let out a long sigh, “you didn't wake me, Betty did a little bit ago. Why is she such a jerk?”

She sat up, realizing she was wearing her birthday suit, she blushed and covered herself up, “Do you have a shirt I can wear?” A shy smile formed on her lips as she looked up at Ace. He grabbed her a shirt and she pulled it over head and bit her lip, “Can you hand me those?” She pointed at her panties in the floor, “Do you have a pair of boxers I can wear too?” she shrugged and grinned, “I'm sorry, I should have thought this through a little more. I had hoped you would let me stay the night, but the thought of spare clothes never crossed my mind.”

She stood up and pulled Ace to her, burying her face into his chest as she hugged him. Brandy looked up at him, standing on her tippy toes she gave him a little kiss.

Mary Hawthorne - Museum of Witchcraft basement - early morning

The Cultist groaned as he yielded to Mary's skilled ministrations and finished. After a moment, his grip on Mary's shoulders relaxed and she looked up at him.

"Satisfied?", she asked.

"I'm done", he said, nodding reluctantly. He then winced in pain as his stomach began to growl again. "You held up your end of the bargain, I'll grant you that. Now get it over with."

Mary gently pushed him back, off the wet area of the floor where they were onto a dry section, and then got up off her knees and stood facing him, and recited the reverse of the spell she had used earlier.

OGTHROD AI'F
GEB'L—EE'H
YOG-SOTHOTH
'NGAH'NG AI'Y
ZHRO

As she recited the spell, the cultist froze, his features contorted with fear and pain, as a terrible change came over him and he literally crumbled into dust where he stood. By the time she uttered the final word of the incantation, a pile of ashes sat where a man had stood moments before. Mary sighed, then moved around the pile, picking up a battered old dustpan and broken broom sitting in a corner, along with the mason jar, and returned to the pile and knelt next to it, and carefully began to sweep it up, emptying it into the jar. Once satisfied she had collected everything, she picked up the lid and began to screw it into place.

"You can come out now, Shelby", Mary said as casually as if she were ordering dinner, screwing the lid down securely and patting the lit for emphasis, "I know you've been watching."

“I'll see ya later Mary,” Shelby said as the young woman walked inside with her arms full. She turned and kicked up some pebbles, “Up most of lastnight and still nit fuckimg tired.”

She went for the diner but stopped as a young woman with a scowl flipped the sign around to closed, Shelby raised her arms and let them fall against her hips, “What the fuck? Must be the little bitch Waylon was talking about.” She turned to look at Brandy's place, but there were no lights on, she had hoped there was so she could find out if Brandy had followed any of her advice. Shaking her head, she slowly walked towards the church and sat on a cinder block in the shadows and leaned her head back against the wall. Her chest rose and then relaxed, “What a fucking couple of days.” She closed her eyes for a moment reflecting on the list of events she had been through since returning to town. Her eyes opened as she heard a door shut from a little bit of distance. She narrowed her eyes to see Mary all geared up and leaving. She watched her until she lost sight of her, then got up and followed Mary.

She's small and young, kinda like Brandy. Wonder if she can handle herself or not, fuck it, can't sleep anyways, Shelby rationalized in her mind as she tracked Mary from a distance. She gulped when she watched Mary strip down and walk into the black water, Are you fucking kidding me?

Apparently Mary was desperate to go unnoticed past Waylon and a blonde woman sitting on a car. Which, in turn, raised Shelby's suspicion, she followed suit, pulling her hair up and stripping down. The water was cold, bringing goosebumps all over her body as her feet sunk slightly into the slimy bottom. The water felt...different, almost to the point of nausea. Shelby was baffled when she saw Mary with a dead body, taking into the old witchcraft museum. She brushed as much water off of herself as she could with bare hands before getting back into her clothes. They clung to her damp body, making her tug them to where they needed to be. She looked then ran across to the museum, slowly she opened the heavy wooden door, that was in surprisingly nice shape.

As Shelby was about to round a corner she froze, peeking around the corner to see Mary, nude with a dead body and some odd items such as a mason jar with her. Silently she watched, she couldn't help it as a small gasp escaped her when the dead man came back to life after Mary chanted some strange words she had never heard before. Shelby took a step back, unable to really make out what Mary and the man were talking about. Her head was spinning, what had she just witnessed? How was Mary able to do that? Witchcraft? A potion maybe? Shelby just could not wrap her head around what she was seeing. Rubbing her eyes and pinching herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming, Shelby resumed watching, what could only be described as disturbing. Mary, her skin glistening from sweat after the man had moaned in great pleasure, stood back up. Words were exchanged between the two and Mary chanted the strange words again. Though Shelby had no idea of the meaning, she recognized a couple enough to know Mary had reversed them.

“Fuck me,” Shelby clasped her hand over her mouth as she watched the man disintegrate into a pile of ashes in the floor while Mary showed no emotion. Shelby stepped back, wishing she had just returned home, but also curious about what Mary had done. Just as she was about to lose sight from retreating.

"You can come out now, Shelby", Mary said as casually as if she were ordering dinner, screwing the lid down securely and patting the lit for emphasis, "I know you've been watching."

Shelby quickly ducked behind the corner, taking a couple rapid deep breaths and untying her hair. FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!!! She cleared her throat, straightened herself upright and stepped around the corner flipping her hair back over her shoulders trying to act like her normal self, “That was… interesting ,” her voice was still riddled with nervousness, she placed her hands in her hips and tried to keep her cocky facade, “So...you mind telling what the fuck just happened here?” Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead, she just wanted to run away, but she had an image to uphold, though she wasn't doing a very good job about hiding it, at all.