Dr. Arthur West - Salem Clinic
“Excuse me doctor? Could I get some FUCKING MEDICAL ATTENTION?” Steve shouted.

Arthur was still examining Ace when he heard Steve shout from across the room. Far from only having a head injury, which he'd presumed when Steve had been brought in, Steve was apparently also nursing a deep cut across his stomach. The body armor and other heavy clothing of the man had obscured the wound.

"I'll be right back Ace," He said quickly, "Keep that bandage pressed on that wound."

Arthur then hurried over to Steve's beside, where the newest mutant resident of the town had already begun applying pressure to Steve's abdomen. Hesitantly, he approached the mutant, unsure of what to think of him. As he'd concluded in his earlier observations, he guess that this mutant was absolutely not one of the Commonwealth's.

“Doctor this one is going to need stitches, and you don’t want me doing stitches.” The mutant's words stirred him from his thoughts and he set himself to work.

"Right, sorry...let me grab my medical kit..."

Swiftly, Arthur turned around and grabbed his medical bag, pulling out surgical suture and a needle holder. He cleaned the wound quickly with anti-septic and went to work,

"This will sting a bit.." He said.

As he began stitching Steve up, Frieda came up from behind and touched him on the shoulder,

"Looks like I just lost my job. Well -- for a few minutes, anyways. Seems to know his way around a bleeder, for the most part, and seems unlikely anyone is going to try and attack the clinic while he's hanging around. I'm going to take care of the basement situation over at Brandy's and find us some food. I think we both missed breakfast, hm?" Frieda gave Arthur a reassuring smile. "I'll be back soon."

"Thank you Frieda, I appreciate you help," Arthur replied with a nod as she turned to leave. He then returned to his needle work, making sure Steve kept still while the suture was applied. It was then that he noticed that something around the mutants neck had fallen out: a pair of metal dog-tags to be precise. Arthur instantly recognized them for what they were: The Brotherhood's with the gear and swords of the order stamped on them.

Arthur paused for a moment in confusion, before quickly resuming,

What on earth would a mutant be doing with Brotherhood dog tags? He wondered, A trophy of some kind perhaps? Yes...that must be it.

Steve Cooper- About to have an heart attack- Midday

With a sigh he spoke, “listen here bud, my names Gorge and I’ll be keeping you alive today. So first things first I need you to calm down, your accelerated heart rate is going to get you killed.”

"Calm down? The town just got attacked by overgrown lizards, Twerp over there is shell shocked, I'm bleeding to death and I have a bloody super mutant as my Nurse, You try claming the fuck down after that."

or alteast without getting high

The super mutant or "Goge" as he claimed his name was pulled out an sharp and well-kept knife, “if you do not calm down I will knock you unconscious, and now hold still while I cut your shirt off.”

"err... I think I can wait for the doctor to finish... Doctor, Doctor!" Steve called out as the mutant cut open Steve's shirt "My shirt! Put that knife before you stab me you dam crazy mutant!" Steve cried as he hopelessly struggled under the mutant although even if he was in prefect condition there would have been little chance of getting the mutant to move.

The large mutant proceeded to lay out the bandages across the man’s chest and hold pressure to him, his large hands being more than capable of spanning the entire wound.

"well... alteast you didn't stab me in the eye." Steve replied before muttering quieter "good work... I guess."

The doctor had finished with Mr. Acelot by this point and made his way over to Steve's Bed when the mutant spoke to the doctor. “Doctor this one is going to need stitches, and you don’t want me doing stitches.”

"and neither do I! stupid Brother-In law lost his eye when an super mutant "operated" on him.."Steve replied "Not that you... err do such an error, it was one of the dumb orange super mutants."

Swiftly, Arthur turned around and grabbed his medical bag, pulling out surgical suture and a needle holder. He cleaned the wound quickly with anti-septic and went to work,

"This will sting a bit.." He said.

"This isn't my first time getting stitched up" steve repiled as he bit down on his lip and endured the pain.

That was when something dropped from the super mutant's neck and dangled in the air between mutant and Steve... Dog tags, Brotherhood dogtags to be precise with the Brotherhood little sword and gears Logo on it but why was an super mutant wearing it around his neck?

"So Which Tin-can did you kill to get those?" steve asked, hoping the story could distract him from the pain.

Salem Clinic /// Midday

The mutant kept quiet as the man under him struggled and insulted him, though he did seem to be easing up a bit as time went on. The doctor seemed to be doing his job quite well and didn’t seem too bothered by him being there. However, the others in the makeshift clinic seemed to be too concerned with their own needs to bother with him or the doctor.

He kept silent until he heard them mention his dog tags that he noticed had slipped out, “Judging by your assumption and tone I’m guessing you don’t like the Brotherhood of steel”

A quiet sigh escaped the mutant, and he closed his eyes rubbing the bridge of his nose before speaking, “listen before I start with the story telling, you should both be aware of a very, well as other humans have put it, unsettling discovery. Other than the good doctor here, I’m probably the most intelligent person in this settlement”

Pausing for a moment to let it sink in, “now that I’ve gotten that out of the way, these holotags are mine from my time in the Brotherhood of Steel.” The mutant moved the bandages out of the way so the doctor could stitch the man up.

“I attained the rank of knight captain and commanded three squads, all of which were made up of super mutants and humans. But after a critical mission failure and returning to a destroyed headquarters. I went into voluntary exile and haven’t dealt with them since.” Again he paused, he wasn’t entirely sure if they would even believe him and his stories.

Putting the bandage back over the man’s stitched wounds he continued to talk, “I know of those orange mutants, their strain of FEV seemed corrupted or damaged. This in turn makes it, so they don’t stop growing and that sensation is very painful, with that pain comes insanity.”

Another sigh as he adjusts his monocle, “although it is strange that the super mutants here use actual hounds instead of the variations of centaurs that many other mutants use in the capitol wasteland, in new California, and across the Mojave. That being said I’m unsure what kind of FEV was used on the super mutants here, from what I can tell it looks like it was tampered with or maybe a new strain.”

He was rambling, he knew he was but at least this way he figured they would know more about him. “But I was turned in 2163 in New California and recruited into the master’s army. The FEV used was a pure strain of FEV II, dip subjects into the solution and bam. Instant mutants. Most had the normal decrease in intelligence, it was uncommon for them to retain their intelligence, rare for it to increase and rarer still for it to greatly increase. I fall into the rare category.”

The mutant paused as he moved Steve’s hand over his bandage, “keep pressure until the bleeding stops.” He stood and whipped the blood off his hands moving over to the other injured female, “come doctor there are still more wounded to care too, I’m not the best medic but I’ve been around long enough to know what to do as long as you tell me what to do.” He could only imagine that the doctor’s slow reactions were due to him over thinking the situation, so he was simply just trying to keep the man moving.

Gorge looked over the female who was beginning to show signs of shock, “what about this one then? Looks like that matriarch got her rather well in the shoulder. Did you disinfect it yet?” he spoke while grabbing a few more blankets off another cot and placing them under the girl’s feet to prop them up while he waited for the doctor.

steve Cooper- Clinic- Afternoon

“Judging by your assumption and tone I’m guessing you don’t like the Brotherhood of steel”

"I've killed several of them." Steve admitted before grunting pain slightly "So no, not an big fan of the brotherhood or what's left of them anyway."

Brotherhood probably still around in DC

A quiet sigh escaped the mutant before he started his little story telling session. “Listen before I start with the story telling, you should both be aware of a very, well as other humans have put it, unsettling discovery. Other than the good doctor here, I’m probably the most intelligent person in this settlement”

To Steve alteast this was an odd thing start with. The few "intelligent" super mutants Steve had met or heard about where usually Smarter than the average person, no doubt part of reason why they remained "friendly" and they could live an long time like ghouls so they had time to educate themselves but most intelligent person? why start an story but stating that?

"... Okay..?" Steve replied unsure what to think of the statement

The mutant paused, seeming to let his "announcement" to sink in before continuing, now Steve expected the mutant would embellish his story, perhaps he simply saved an tin-can by shooting one guy instead of rescuing him from 1-10 ambush in a burning building but the story the mutant told was outright ridiculous, he was an bloody tin-can?

he's joking right?

Not just an "honorary " one or some bullshit like but an full knight captain with three squads under his command which included more super mutants...it took Steve a movement to realize he wasn't joking. "Wait... you're serious?" Steve replied "No way you where in the brotherhood, Tin-cans bloody hate super mutants, hell they pretty much wiped out all the Orange ones in DC and would have done the same here if Tom hadn't blown them up."

Putting the bandage back over the Steve's stitched wounds he continued to talk, “I know of those orange mutants, their strain of FEV seemed corrupted or damaged. This in turn makes it, so they don’t stop growing and that sensation is very painful, with that pain comes insanity.”

"Well Supposedly they came from an Vault, so not surprising that Vault-Tec fucked shit up even worst... Most of those bloody vaults are death traps and the one's that were seemlying designed to make life fucking miserable as possible for it's residents.."

and people paid to stay down there... Per-war people were crazy..
The mutant adjusted his monocle before rambling on about Hounds commonwealth mutants used and wonder why they didn't use Centaurs but one word caught Steve's attention, "California"

"wait, California, Brotherhood started there or something after they rebelled from the enclave shortly before the bombs dropped but had to leave after they started fighting with the Bear republic, are you saying you served with them?

the mutant continued to ramble but it was somewhat interesting to follow. "I was turned in 2163 in New California and recruited into the master’s army. The FEV used was a pure strain of FEV II, dip subjects into the solution and bam. Instant mutants. Most had the normal decrease in intelligence, it was uncommon for them to retain their intelligence, rare for it to increase and rarer still for it to greatly increase. I fall into the rare category.”

"rrrrr-igght."Steve replied, almost completely convinced he made the whole story up but decided to give the mutant a chance "that was an interesting story but do you have any proof?"

"California brotherhood may have let mutants serve, especially if they where losing an war to the Bear republic ad maybe this Master fellow existed but how do I know you didn't just shoot paladin Bob down the road and take his tags?"

Ace Makovich – Clinic – Afternoon
Ace sat on the chair holding the rag to his wound. He had found a sewing kit on the table and started to suture, his slash. It wasn’t bad, but this would help the wound close faster. He focused on his work but kept an eye on that mutant that walked back in. He was wary of the creature, but Ace was not in fighting conditions at the moment o do anything.

He listened to the creature as it gave its story on how it acquired those tags, It made him angry to know that this creature would even consider itself an equal to the brotherhood. Had the Midwest Brotherhood become so corrupt as to allow a super mutant amongst its ranks? It seemed ludicrous and absurd.

However, what truly angered him was the fact that this creature exiled itself and kept its tags, while Ace was stripped of his by his once family. He clenched his fist, but controlled his emotions. There was no need to do anything too hasty at the moment. He listened as Steve tried to make sense of what the creature spoke.

He shook his head, “The Brotherhood never rebelled from the Enclave, Steve. In fact the two are bitter enemies, but where never one organization… This mutant would have never served with the New California Brotherhood, if anything it would be the Midwest chapter… a misguided group if anything…”

Ace finished stitching, and again pressed the rag on the wound. He walked over to Brandy and held her hand, “Don’t worry kid, I’m here for you.”

Rick Noel - Diner

Rick looked around the diner, it was a mess, but one that could be cleaned and repaired. Celeste left, headed for the inn, and the waitress grabbed a broom and started to sweep, while cursing under her breath. Rick stood by the door and looked over to where the body of the large deathclaw was. Some other folk, whom he hadn’t seen nor met, were cutting into the creature. Were they planning to cook it?

The thought itself both disgusted and intrigued him. What does it taste like, would it be full of nutrients and other properties? He would recommend to Doctor Arthur to study the meat, at least to see how it compares to “regular” animals. He looked back at the diner, and decided he would make himself useful and help out in doing some cleaning.

He was careful with the broken glass from the front window. It would be hard getting an intact replacement. He knocked some of the dangling glass down and crashing on the floor. He turned back to face Betty, who without saying anything just threw him another broom. He brought an empty garbage can from outside and started to gather and throw away the broken glass.

FRIEDA RICHTER - Brandy's house -- mid-afternoon

The shelves had been straightened, their melange of boxes and items returned upon their shelves, and the majority of the feed had been swept, scooped, and tossed back into the container in which it had been stored. Frieda straightened and groaned, feeling muscle ache in her neck, shoulders, lower back...legs...

"Damn," she muttered, wondering if there was some part of her that wasn't screaming in pain. The Study Buddy was keeping her mind alert but certainly wasn't meant to keep her body from fatiguing. I better take it easy before I wear myself out by accident.

She looked down at the remaining mess. One substantial pile remained and a smattering of scattered seed. Frieda clamped her teeth shut and attempted to steel her resolve. "Just scoop that pile up and you're done. It's not like a scattering of feed is going to be that much more harmful." One of the chicks lifted its head from the little nest they had made and peeped at her. Frieda looked at it. "What?"

Ten minutes later, she was closing the door to the basement, letting out a long sigh. Frieda looked between the fridge and Brandy's cupboards, remembering her promise to bring the good doc some food. Her stomach rumbled in response. She closed her eyes, her arms and shoulders suddenly so tired, she felt like she could hardly lift them. She opened her eyes and looked down at her dusty, dirty, sweaty clothing, and imagined her body resembled much the same.

I'll have a shower, freshen up, and maybe that will help me perk up, too. Frieda pushed herself off the door to the basement with much effort and made her way up the stairs. Bless Brandy and her hot water heater. She peeled off her clothing and left them in a crumpled heap on the bathroom floor and ran the shower.

She re-emerged from the house some time later, hair and skin squeaky clean if the clothing she dug from the bottom of her bag wasn't. A baggy, faded blue t-shirt over some jeans and her sneakers was the best she could muster. The shirt had belonged to her brother; she was practically swimming in it. It was the cleanest thing she carried, though, and the thought of climbing back into sweaty, or bloody, or dirty clothing squicked her right out. Frieda made a beeline for the diner -- she tore through the cupboards at Brandy's but found a number of things that required preparation...and, well, skill. She watched Rick push a load of broken glass onto the road, below, stepped over him, and walked into the diner.

"Uh, hey, are you open?" she asked Betty. The younger woman threw her broom into a corner, dusted off her hands, and put them onto her hips.

"I mean it's not like a deathclaw pretty much came in here and tossed the place -- but sure, let me drop everything and get you something to eat!"

Frieda rubbed her brow, confused by the placement of Betty's sarcasm. "Can I get some food to go?"

"Can ya be more specific?"

"I don't know -- just a bagged lunch or something." Frieda drummed her fingers on the countertop, growing impatient. "Anything."

Ten minutes later she re-emerged from the diner with a couple sandwiches and mutfruit cocktails. She assessed the patients in the clinic, and from what she could tell, things were stable. The mutant was still hovering around, which made her feel unsettled, She gave him a wide berth and approached Arthur, holding out one of the lunches. "Here. Take a break, have something to eat. I'll keep an eye on things, here."

Shelby and Waylon drug the small deathclaw back to their shop, “Let's grab the one by the clinic.”

“Isn't one enough?” asked Waylon, Shelby narrowed her eyes back at him, “OK, OK,” he held up his hands in a mock surrender.

The two of them passed the clinic entrance when the tall blonde Shelby had helped darted up to them. "Waylon, hey! Brandy's hurt, but she's in the clinic now, the doc's going to stitch her up. She should be okay, but I thought you might want to know."

Shelby had grabbed the second dead deathclaw and began dragging it when the woman addressed her. The blonde offered her blood stained hand, "I didn't really get to thank you, back there. I'm Frieda...Richter. Frieda Richter." She cleared her throat. Waylon watched nervously unsure how Shelby would react given her taste of blood, it always did something to her.

Shelby extended her own blood stained hand, “Shelby Jackson,” she smirked, “Next time try not to be on the bottom.”

"Ah, anyway, I should get back to the clinic. And, uh, dinner, later, still, yes, right?" Frieda stammered, addressing Waylon.

Waylon smiled genuinely, “Absolutely, I'm looking forward to it.” He saw Shelby's brain turning.

Shelby's eyes went between Frieda and Waylon, she grinned, “Dinner huh?”

Frieda clapped her hands together. "Okay! See you folks around." She turned on her heel and galloped off back to the clinic.

“I'll see you later,” Waylon watched as Frieda took off.

Shelby raised her brow, “Dinner?” she elbowed Waylon, “Are you getting dessert too?”

Waylon frowned, “Shut up Shelby, it's not like that, new life remember?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she waved him off, “Gimme a hand getting this thing back to the shop.”

Waylon shook his head and grabbed the other arm of the dead creature, “Shit, forgot to tell you, Eliza is up and walking around.”

Shelby froze, “She is?”

“Yep, was looking out the window before the critter infestation.”

“Let's hurry and get this to the shop then, c’mon,” Shelby picked up her pace, grunting against the dead weight if the deathclaw.

After a brief struggle, the two young deathclaws were now on the floor in Shelby’s forge. She grabbed an old towel and wiped her hands off, “I'm gonna go check on Eliza.”

“Alright, let me know how she's doing, she didn't even speak to me earlier,” Waylon caught the towel from Shelby's toss.

She ran upstairs and stopped in front of the door to run her fingers through her hair. The anticipation of Eliza feeling better brought her heartbeat up as thoughts rushed through her head of their fresh start on a new life. Shelby smiled as she opened her door, “Hey Hun, Waylon said you were feeling better and actually walking around?” She looked around her place, but no Eliza. She called Eliza’s name as she walked around looking for her, but nothing. Then Shelby noticed that Eliza’s backpack was nowhere to be found either, she clenched her fists as her heart fell to the floor. Frantically Shelby looked around, even up in Waylon's place the floor above. She ran downstairs, “Waylon!!! Where was she?”

Waylon looked at Shelby, “She was standing at the window in your room looking out over town.” He shrugged, “Like i said, she ignored me and then Brandy came screaming into town so I took off. I never saw her leave or anything either.”

“Help me look for her then, her backpack is missing too,” Shelby's eyes glassed over as Waylon sat down the pistol he was tinkering with to help look. Nervously she searched and searched every floor, every room, but not a single sign. The only thing she found was an empty Med-X syringe. Shelby squeezed the syringe in her fist and threw it against the wall breaking it into a million pieces. She walked to the roof, defeated by the woman she had fallen in love with...again. Taking a deep, depressed breath, Shelby reached into the beat up cooler by her lawn chair and pulled out a pint of whiskey and threw back a pull when she heard a single rifle shot. She squint her eyes as she looked in the general direction of the sound until she saw two silhouettes. Pulling a scoped rifle that Waylin used as a sniper rifle from the case in between their lawn chairs she peered through the scope.

Adjusting it to its highest setting if 12x, “That fucking bitch,” she thumbed the safety to the fire position and put her finger lightly against the trigger. “Fuck that,” she flipped the safety back on, “I'll show her, no way will I allow her to just disappear again.” She snatched up the whiskey and threw back another shot before whipping it against the old air conditioning unit smashing the bottle to bits. Yanking open the door she stomped down the stairs to her apartment.

Grabbing two handfuls of hair she screamed, looking in the mirror, “Why? What is wrong with me?” Shelby removed her bloody pajama pants and tank top them fetched her leather armor from the closet. She paused as she held it in front of her, someone always dies when I put this on. With an exaggerated breath she poured herself into the leather outfit, memories of her past flooded her thoughts bringing an evil grin. She quickly ran a brush through her hair, the blood stains jerked her head as the brush separates the strands of reddish spatters in her blonde hair. She pulled her hair back and put her aviator sunglasses on top of her head. Opening her top dresser drawer, her trusty 1911 lay dormant in wait. She gripped the pistol and racked the slide then holstered it. Making sure to grab two extra loaded mags and attaching them to her belt alongside her Kukri. A dagger found a new home just under her bosom. She slung a duffel bag over her shoulder, taking notice of the teddy bear Steve had given Eliza on the floor next to her bed. Shelby put the bear in her duffle bag and head down to her shop. In the bottom drawer of her toolbox she pulled out a rolled up pouch of tool. Tools she and Calypso haf used in the past.

Waylon had seen her walk by his office, “Fuck me, this ain't good.” He watched as Shelby put the pouch in her duffle bag.

“Don't fucking look at me like that Waylon. You know what I gave up, what I went through for Eliza. I will be DAMNED if she's just gonna walk away and disappear again.”

Waylon held up his hands, “Just be careful Shelby. Don't forget, I risked it all to save you too. You do what you have to.”

Dr. Arthur West - Salem Clinic

Arthur froze when the mutant began explaining the differences between the mutants of the east and his own kind, the mutants on the west coast. He was both surprised, intrigued, and more than a little disturbed at the intelligence and in-depth understanding of the FEV that Gorge was displaying. When Gorge mentioned that he believed that the Commonwealth's FEV might have been tampered with, or otherwise altered, Arthur could hardly contain his nervous apprehension.

How right you are.... Arthur mused to himself as he thought of the irony of the fact that not only was Gorge correct: but he was standing next to the very man who had helped to architect the Commonwealth strain.

“Come doctor there are still more wounded to care too, I’m not the best medic but I’ve been around long enough to know what to do as long as you tell me what to do.”

Arthur snapped out of his thoughts as he heard Gorge's voice.

"Ah of course..." He muttered, before turning back to the mutant, "Here...we need to move quickly. Let me finish stitching up Steve and then we'll move on to Brandy..."

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

After several minutes of nimble medical work, and with the help of Gorge, Arthur allowed himself a moment to breathe as he sat down in a nearby set of broken church pews. The patients had all been stabilized and bandaged or stitched up. They'd all be nursing their wounds for some time, but none of them would suffer any major long-term consequences from the injuries suffered. Not physically anyway....Arthur still had some concerns for poor Brandy's psyche, but he wasn't a psychologist and this was the wasteland. Psychological trauma was a fact of everyday life here and he had to marvel at the fact that not everyone was a walking basket case.

As Gorge passed by the pew, Arthur looked up,

"Err...thank you," he said, hesitantly, "I...appreciate the assistance." Thanking a mutant for rendering medical aid was hardly something he was used to doing, and the words came out rather muddled.

With a sigh, Arthur leaned back just as Frieda walked back through the church doors carrying a small bag in her hand. Avoiding Gorge, she made her way over to Arthur and handed it to him,

"Here. Take a break, have something to eat. I'll keep an eye on things, here."

Arthur smiled warmly, appreciating the gesture,

"Thank you Frieda, I could certainly use a break. Perhaps some fresh air could do me some good as well..."

With a nod to Frieda, he stood up, clutching the bagged lunch, and walked out of the clinic, narrowly avoiding the Deathclaw's carcass as he did so. He stared down in wonder at the size of the beast before reminding himself that he'd have to take a few flesh samples before the day was out and the creature had begun to decompose.

"After lunch of course..." He mumbled to himself.

As he stepped away from the clinic, he looked into the bag Frieda had given him and saw the sandwiches and mutfruit packed neatly within. He sat down on a nearby bench and took once of the sandwiches out. Eyeing it suspiciously, he tore off a small piece of it and gave it a taste. It wasn't....terrible, but he knew he wouldn't be able to finish it all, nor could he stomach it if he did, so he continued to nibble at it.

After a few minutes trying to get down as much as he could, he discretely pulled a small pill from his pocket and popped it into his mouth, savoring the rush of flavor from the supplement and allowing it to wash the taste of the meat away. He packed up the rest of the food back into the bag and just as he was doing so, he realized that he hadn't seen hide nor hair of Rick since the Deathclaws had attacked. Panic seized him, worried for the sake of one of two people in the town he could confide in as well as a fellow colleague and he quickly walked over to the Diner, deciding to start his search there.

He needn't have worried, as luck would have it, Rick was carefully sweeping the floor of the Diner, trying to make himself useful no doubt, and Arthur breathed a sigh of relief,

"Glad to see that abomination didn't get you as well..." Arthur said as he entered the small, now decidedly torn up, little building, "I'd never seen one before....'Deathclaws' they call them. I'd be quite content with never seeing another one in my life. I mean I had read SRB repor..."

Arthur stopped short when he noticed the young waitress coming in from the back, eyeing them with mixture of indifference and angst before giving a sigh and resuming her work,

"..the Vault Security reports on them. But...never seen one in person."

Once Betty was out of earshot, Arthur lowered his voice to a whisper and continued,

"About that...proposal I mentioned to you earlier. Now more than ever I'm convinced we should request assistance from home. Another attack like that and the clinic won't be able to handle it...even with the supplies the town donated we're going through it faster than I could ever restock normally. And if we had even one disguised Courser to help protect it....you mentioned that The Directorate would be hard pressed to agree...and you're probably right."

Arthur looked around again, making sure that no-one had come back into earshot,

"...I believe I might have something that could change their minds," he gazed back over at the church, "Something that might be an invaluable source of research. The mutant...the intelligent one...not Rook I mean the really intelligent one. Its a mutant created from the original Mariposa FEV strain perhaps...perhaps I might be able to glean some insight from him. If I can figure out a way to get him to allow me to run some tests on him..."

Nervously, Arthur bit his lip, unsure of what he was about to say, and perhaps more than a little apprehensive,

"I could restart my lab here. Far away from Vault 88. They needn't be connected at all to it, and there's plausible deniability there as well. The research potential would be enormous...and if it gets the town the supplies and protection it needs...." Arthur sighed deeply, as if resigning himself, "Then I'll do it."

Salem Clinic /// Midday

For a little while the mutant ignored the other two and simply helped the doctor. It wasn’t that he was trying to be rude he was just more interested in helping the doctor than he was talking, besides the two seemed more intent on telling the other what happened. However, the one male with the small slash seemed to know a bit more about the brotherhood then the other, “Perhaps he was part of them too or held more regard for them” his thoughts trailed off as another woman came in and handed off some food to the doctor. The girl kept her distance from him, which was understandable given the circumstances.

The mutant stood and watched the doctor step out, nodding towards the doctor when he said thank you, “Don’t worry about it” he spoke as he turned finding the gear he sat down next to the door. Picking up his things he moved to an old wooden crate and put his gun on it, kneeling down, so he was still facing the other two men he set to work on taking apart and cleaning his Gatling laser while he spoke to them.

“That one is correct in his assumptions” motioning toward Ace, “in California I fought against the brotherhood of steel and the Enclave while part of The Masters Army. Even had a few skirmishes with the New California Republic and those slavers that are out there”

Again he looked to Steve while taking his weapon apart, the way he was taking it apart while talking showed great familiarity with the weapon. “The Master was a kind of mutant, he mutated with some computer equipment at the Mariposa military base. This was many years after the brotherhood of steel left the base… The Master was far more intelligent than anyone or anything I’ve ever met.”

Gorge sighed while taking apart a few more components of his gun, “But he wasn’t without his flaws, he organized and trained other mutants like myself into an army that was able to fight against any threat. But The Master was… well, he believed that the super mutant was the next step in human evolution, and so we kidnapped any human we could find and turned them into mutants.”

He paused for a moment as if remembering his past actions, “I’m not particularly proud of some things I did during that time. But after learning about what The Master’s plan was, I couldn’t do it anymore. Instead, I volunteered with another smaller group that was tasked with locating vaults, and we headed east. Didn’t hear about The Master or any of my brothers until we met another group a few years later. The Master was killed by a vault dweller and this larger group was heading east maybe find a place to settle down”

Taking a rag and a small metal rod he began to clean the interior parts of his gun that he couldn’t reach with his big clumsy fingers, “with this group is where we met the Midwestern chapter in Saint Louis, their airship went down in a storm, and they lost a great deal of their people in the crash. So yes they needed more people and were not afraid to integrate others into their fold. It was… necessary.”

“And to your remark about super mutants in their ranks, they also had ghouls, raiders, townsfolk, some robots, and a few sentient hairy death claws. Those things creeped me out” Gorge visually shivered as he mentioned the death claws. “Our group joined them after some trench warfare and displaying tactics other super mutants never did, their leader challenged ours to one on one combat and won at the cost of a head injury.”

Being satisfied with his weapon he began to piece it back together, “I stayed with them for a few years, my team and the teams I commanded where long range resources acquisition. Basically we were dropped off by vertabird and sent out to acquire, food, weapons, technology, and sometimes people” once the gun was back together and fully functioning he began to clean his helmet and the rest of his armor. “They were the ones that made me this armor, its special as it was made to adjust and grow as I grow.”

“We were sent on the high profile missions that they couldn’t afford to send their regular troops on. Basically we were used as shock troopers and went on suicide missions, my team had a one hundred percent return rate. Meaning we didn’t always succeed in our mission, but we always brought everyone home, dead or alive.”

The mutant checked his helmet flipping through the modes' and checking the light to make sure it still functioned. “My last mission was a trap, we went after an old artillery base for the long guns that were supposed to be there. When we got to the old base the guns were either gone or destroyed a long time ago, and we were attacked. My squads got killed and I nearly died as well.”

Gorge stopped and just looked at nothing with a sigh, “those where good men and woman, they didn’t deserve to die like that. But per protocol I destroyed my radio and made my way back to our headquarters only to find it destroyed and deserted. Again following protocol, we were told to send out our last mission report and exile ourselves, I don’t know why he had us do that but his mental state was beginning to take its toll on the old paladin.”

He finished checking his helmet out when he heard the report of a single rifle shot out in the distance, after a few minutes of silence he returned to cleaning his armor. Remembering that Steve had questioned him he shrugged, and picked up his holotag, “Name Gorge, Race Super Mutant, Rank Knight Captain, Height 9’8, Weight 772 Lbs. Serial Number SM573954-23454-9666”

He read it off like he remembered it by heart, while saying this he stood and faced Steve taking the bolts and straps off the plating on his right shoulder to reveal the metal skeleton of the armor and his bare skin. Pointing to the brand on his shoulder that held the Brotherhood of Steel’s Midwestern chapter’s emblem and his serial number below it. “Clearly I killed paladin bob, took his holotag and went through the process of forging the inscriptions on it and branded my shoulder giving it the time it would need to heal and look aged” his sarcasm was dry as he returned to cleaning his armor.

FRIEDA RICHTER - Salem Clinic -- mid-afternoon

The doctor gave Frieda a warm smile. She found herself blushing, slightly, as he took the proffered bag from her hand. Frieda tucked some stray hair, still damp, behind her ear and broke eye contact. It's because he's only ever just been nice to you, with no ulterior motive.

An image of her brother smirking popped into her mind. She pushed it away.

"Thank you Frieda, I could certainly use a break. Perhaps some fresh air could do me some good as well..." The doc nodded and exit the clinic. Frieda settled herself against the far wall, sitting on a folding chair long seized into the open position and hefting her long legs up onto a fallen pew. She rummaged into the lunch bag and had consumed a sandwich before she even realized it.

She ate the second one more slowly, listening carefully as the mutant, referred to as Gorge, continued to tell his story.

He detailed, at length, his origins, as part of the Master's army. She knew about the Master, to some extent, but it was always more of a history lesson than something she ever expected to encounter in real life. The more he spoke, the more ill she felt. He seemed to casually just disassemble his laser and clean the components while he continued, but the knot in her stomach twisted tighter. Gorge seemed to be talking about the Brotherhood of Steel, by reference to 'Midwest'.

Obviously, he is. No self respecting branch of the Enclave would ever consider letting a mutant, even a well-spoken one, come within ten feet of the doors.

It's disgusting. She sniffed.

"...And to your remark about super mutants in their ranks, they also had ghouls, raiders, townsfolk, some robots, and a few sentient hairy death claws. Those things creeped me out” Gorge shivered. “Our group joined them after some trench warfare and displaying tactics other super mutants never did, their leader challenged ours to one on one combat and won at the cost of a head injury.”

Listening to a super mutant talk about other abominations as creepy was the last straw. Frieda's breath suddenly became short. A warm, uncomfortable feeling welled in the back of her throat, and a wave of nausea flowed through her body. I need to get out of here.

She covered her mouth with the back of her hand and scrambled to flee the clinic without making too much of a scene. She vaulted over the rubble and dead deathclaw at the back door and doubled over in the middle of the street, panting hard, willing herself not to vomit. The very thought of the Brotherhood -- for all their faults -- taking in super mutants to fight for them, was revolting enough. That a super mutant would dare suggest there were things worse than he, out in this god forsaken wasteland?

Frieda clutched her stomach and fell to her knees, feeling oddly dizzy and nauseous at the same time.

I should never have left, Brian. I should have just finished myself off, and made them clean up the mess. Are you even out here, somewhere? Are you alive? A tear rolled down her cheek and landed into the dust at her knees. I bet you did the right thing and just offed yourself when you were stuck out here. A few more tears followed the first to join an expanding wet spot on the ground. Frieda took some deep breaths and wiped her eyes on the shoulder of her sleeve. Fuck. Even if you did, something inside me won't let me rest until I find your dead body, even if it's just to join it. We came into this world together and it'd only right if we exit it together, too.

She found herself calming down, slightly, but her hands were shaking, and there was only one thing to fix that. Frieda reached into her back pocket for her pack of smokes and remembered she'd finished it hours ago. She groaned. Pushing herself back up to her feet, her eyes were drawn to the entry door to the weapon shop popping open and the woman from before, clad in leather armour, leaving it, with Waylon stepping out to watch her leave, before going back inside.

She remembered how comfortable she felt, talking to him all night. Frieda glanced back at the clinic, and hoped Arthur wouldn't be too mad at her for ducking out of there once more. It's just for a smoke. I'll be back in five minutes, tops.

Frieda walked over to the weapon shop and knocked on the door, before realizing she probably could have just walked in. Before her hand landed on the doorknob, the door popped open, and there stood Waylon. "Uh, hey," she began, quietly, feeling suddenly quite sheepish. She reached up and scratched the back of her head. "Can I bum a cigarette? I'll owe you one, I promise."

Mary's House - towards the end of the attack.

>92% CHARGE REMAINING
>
>
> Diagnostic complete: All Systems nominal
>
>Beginning startup .....done.
>ADVISORY!! System Downtime 108 years 4 months 12 days 18 hours 6 minutes 39 seconds!
>ADVISORY!! Last duty assignment update 108 years 4 months 13 days 12 hours ago! Contact supervisor for reassignment immediately!
>ADVISORY!! MasterControlMainframe@sandyhomesconvalescent.us.net not responding! File trouble ticket with supervisor immediately!
>ADVISORY!! SysAdmin has been changed to rnoel@robco.us.net
>ADVISORY!! SysAdmin has changed supervisor to mhawthorne@robco.us.net
>Good Morning, Jeeves!
>
>You have 0 Duty assignments pending! Report to supervisor for reassignment!

Jeeves activated it's optical sensors and looked around, immediately realizing that it was not at the Home anymore...it was sitting in what appeared to be the living room of a private residence on Federal Street, across town, based on the crumbing edifice....St Peter's Episcopal Church....clearly visible out of the front windows. Peering out of the window was a young woman in a bathrobe, leaning unsteadily on a double barrel shotgun nearly as long as she was tall. "In the distance, Jeeves detected sounds that it's logic center told it was gunfire.

"Ma'am", Jeeves intoned as it floated up to it's usual height, "Is there a Civil Disturbance in progress? Should I dial the police?"

The woman whirled around, beginning to bring up the shotgun, but she paused when she realized it was just the robot she had turned on.

"There are no police anymore, ye infernal contraption!", she said in a slurred voice, taking a couple steps towards the robot, "Start the other one up, these damn idiots stirred up the Deathclaws and led them right into town!"

Now that he could see her face....Jeeves realized this woman was, according to it's database, his supervisor. She was also clearly intoxicated...if her degraded motor functions and flushed face weren't proof enough, Jeeve's built in breathalizer told it she currently had a BAC of .18 and was severely intoxicated.

"Miss Mary!", Jeeves said archly as it reached out with it's manipulator arms to take a hold of the weapon, "You, Ma'am, are drunk! I insist you give that firearm to me for safekeeping at once, before an accident happens!"

"Stupid robot!", Mary bellowed as she struggled against the implacable robot. to her fury, it managed to trip the lever and open up the breech, so that she couldn't fire it, "Get your hands off my shotgun! Do you have any idea how much danger we're in? there are Deathclaws roaming the streets looking for someone to eat!"

"You're talking nonsense, Miss Mary", Jeeves replied brusquely, "There is no such thing as a deathclaw!"

“They're real”, a voice came from behind. Jeeves rotated a optical sensor to look, near the door was a very young woman, with a stricken look on her face. Jeeves also noted that she appeared to be wounded.

"You appear to be injured, Miss!", Jeeves said, alarmed, "Should I call a ambulance for you?"

“I need to go home”, she said, then turned and walked outside, closing the door behind her. Preoccupied with the struggle with it's drunken, gun-wielding supervisor, Jeeves, reluctantly, did not follow. After a short struggle, Miss Mary let go of the shotgun and heaved, putting both hands over her mouth, wide-eyed in horror as she realized she was about to throw up. Forgetting the shotgun, she dashed up the stairs, stumbling for the bathroom. Now in possession of the shotgun, Jeeves unloaded it and floated up the stairs after Miss Mary. Hearing retching noises from a bedroom, Jeeves floated in, placing the shotgun on the bed then entering the bathroom where he found his supervisor on her knees before the toilet, violently throwing up into it.

"At least she managed to do that right", Jeeves mumbled under it's breath to itself. "Whatever possessed Mrs Perkins to hire her escapes me, let me tell you!"

Jeeves waited patently until Miss Mary was finished, then cleaned her up and helped her into bed, where she almost immediately passed out. Placing her on her side so she wouldn't choke on her own vomit should she begin throwing up again, Jeeves picked up the shotgun and floated out of the room, closing the door behind it. Putting the old weapon back in it's place above the fireplace, Jeeves looked around with a disapproving eye. Though the residence showed signs of having been recently cleaned, it had clearly suffered from years of neglect. While it's supervisor slept, Jeeves began to examine the house, to identify any problems that it could bring up to Miss Mary...who hopefully would be more reasonable once she sobered up.

Rick Noel - Diner - Mid Afternoon

Rick grabbed a broom and swept the broken glass and wood pieces to one corner of the diner. There was so much broken debris, that it seemed pointless, but it at least gave him something to do, rather than just stand around. As he cleaned up, it made him miss the safety of the institute, and of the new vault. An attack like this would’ve never occurred there.

As he swept, doctor walked inside the diner. He remarked on the deathclaw and stopped himself as Betty walked nearby. Rick nodded in agreement, as to not wishing to see one of the creatures again. He looked outside to the big one, “But they are remarkable. Just take a look at that one, Doctor Arthur. It’s bigger than a regular one... its evolved.”

The doctor one again remarked on the need to request aid from The Directorate. Rick nodded in agreement that aid would be beneficial. He looked around to ensure no one was listening to them. He leaned in closer to the doctor, “I had given some thought to that as well. See...I did something I shouldn’t have and brought a copy of my terminal in a encrypted holodisk.”

He spoke in a quieter tone, “I knew there was a location of an old SRB hideout around this area. It’s nearby, in fact its located across the way, in the old building. Per the specs, there should be a terminal, supplies, maybe a few guns, and security shutters. It was meant as a safe house for back when we had non-synth research patrols.”

If anyone else was in the diner I'll edit them in later

Steve Cooper - Noonish

Acelot shook his head, “The Brotherhood never rebelled from the Enclave, Steve. In fact the two are bitter enemies, but where never one organization… This mutant would have never served with the New California Brotherhood, if anything it would be the Midwest chapter… a misguided group if anything…”

“Midwest? Jesus you tin-can are bloody everywhere aren’t you? And I was referring to before the bombs, or Is that story I heard in DC about Maxton's great granddaddy rebelling complete BS?

“That one is correct in his assumptions” motioning toward Ace, “in California I fought against the brotherhood of steel and the Enclave while part of The Masters Army. Even had a few skirmishes with the New California Republic and those slavers that are out there”

“Must have been pretty powerful army if you where able to take on three high-tech armies at once but I bet that’s also how he was defeated, can’t take everyone on.”

Or for long at least

The Mutant again he looked to Steve while skilfully taking his weapon apart. “The Master was a kind of mutant, he mutated with some computer equipment at the Mariposa military base. This was many years after the brotherhood of steel left the base… The Master was far more intelligent than anyone or anything I’ve ever met.”

Mutated with computer equipment? How the fuck could you even do that? Maybe he means cyborg that got mutated… that could sorta happen.

Gorge then examined the “Masters” plan, turn everyone into super mutants and how he wasn’t particularly proud of the some of the stuff he’d done so volunteer for an long term scout mission, something which may have ended up saving his life if the vault dweller he mentioned was anything like ice cube or the kid from vault 101.

“Well in some sense this master guy was right, super mutants are bigger, stronger and more adaptive to the wasteland than "normal" humans but at the cost of being dumber than a bag of hammer...Well for East coast mutants anyway."

Useful in army grunts but not if you want to build an society

The mutant continued to clean his weapon as he examined how he joined up with the brotherhood in saint louis, staying with them for several years until an ambush wiped out his entire squad and he forced to exile himself after he discovered his based was destroyed.

seems like waste of soldiers doing that

the mutant then picked up his holotag, “Name Gorge, Race Super Mutant, Rank Knight Captain, Height 9’8, Weight 772 Lbs. Serial Number SM573954-23454-9666” reading it off like he remembered it by heart, while saying this he stood and faced Steve taking the bolts and straps off the plating on his right shoulder to reveal the metal skeleton of the armour and his bare skin. Pointing to the brand on his shoulder that held the Brotherhood of Steel’s Midwestern chapter’s emblem and his serial number below it.

“Clearly I killed paladin bob, took his holotag and went through the process of forging the inscriptions on it and branded my shoulder giving it the time it would need to heal and look aged” his sarcasm was dry as he returned to cleaning his armour.

"Okay I admit it, you're legit.... but hey we can use this to our advantage!" Steve replied before turning to Acey as he slowly attempt to get up, winching in pain at one point. "If you're an (-grunt--) a Captain perhaps you can order Acey over there to give us free coffee for life."

"Relax Acey I'm just joking, besides everyone has free coffee today anyway." Steve chuckled as he picked up pistol from the floor although he was unable to find his rifle or submachine gun...No doubt they where still at the diner.

Better get them before someone steals them, too many sick people here anyway.

"I'm gonna get a drink.... Acey once the twerp has been sorted out I think we should call a town meeting and discuss the town defences, we can't keep having every bloody raider, mutie and fucking deathclaw that roams nearby easily access to the town centre..

Even when Rook's wall is built we are gonna need some men, robot or even turrets to man it

stumbling out of the clinic Steve gripped his chest and slowly walked across the street and into the diner. Ignoring the doctor and man he was speaking to for the movement he walked up to the counter and sat down on an empty stool.

"Steve." Betty nervously said with a strange look on face, like she was attempting to do something she had never down before.... Thank someone

"I... Just wanted to thank you for killing that deathclaw." betty stated "If you hadn't of been there... we might not have made it into the basement."

I can see why James does the whole hero thing, feels sorta good

"No problem B-bomb, besides if you died who'd make my coffee? " Steve chuckled, causing pain string in Steve's chest as he body move "Fuck---Although Right now I could do with an Drink... go down to basement and find the strongest shit Acey has and get a bottle for youself too."

"Oh do you know where my guns are? I dropped my rifle and submachine when the mother deathclaw tail whipped me."

CELESTE BROWN - Sandy Coves Inn - mid-afternoon

Celeste cowered behind Archie as she watched the strangers approach the deathclaw from down the road. It wasn't long before the woman began butchering the near-dead beast. The last thing Celeste would remember would be falling onto the concrete landing in front of the door to the Inn and blacking out.

She woke up sometime later, in her bed, a dull throbbing on the side of her head. "Ugh," she groaned, sitting herself up slowly. "That's the second time I've woken up with a headache, today..."

Celeste reached over to the water glass containing a mere gulp of water in the bottom. She drank it anyways, then stared wistfully at the empty cup. She recalled a lovely, warm memory of the evening before, drinking wine and dancing with Adam. Celeste pulled the glass to her bosom and sighed. "Maybe he's come home by now."

She slid off her bed, pulled the cover over neatly, slipped her All American sneakers back onto her feet, and strode into the little kitchen for some more purified water. Celeste gulped down half a bottle, replaced it into the fridge, and walked out into the foyer.

"Manager Celeste! Do not panic, at least, not right away, but Sara is...missing," the robot greeted her.

Celeste looked up from the drawer she was rooting around in. "What?"

"I haven't seen her for several hours. Her person and belongings have seemed to vacate the premises."

"She didn't check out, she just...left?"

"It appears that way."

"I hope it wasn't something I said, last night, after I drank all that moonshine," Celeste mumbled. She rolled her shoulders back. "She might turn up. Keep her room for her for a little bit longer."

"Will do, Manager! Are you heading out, somewhere?"

"I'm going to go look for Adam. He wasn't home, this morning." Celeste gave the robot a wave and walked back out of the Inn. The first thing she noticed was a large, dark and drying blood stain from the deathclaw, but no deathclaw. She didn't bother wondering about what happened to it. Celeste wandered through the rest of town, totally oblivious to any clean up efforts or other folks milling about, and made a beeline for Adam's shack. The brahmin was still missing from her pen. She knocked on the door, regardless.

"Adam, are you back?" she called fruitlessly. She loitered for a few moments more. Dread, despair, and anger filled her all at once. Her face and head felt very hot as she flushed, deeply. Celeste stomped her foot, causing her bosom to heave in a most comical fashion. She kicked the door in her frustration, stubbing her toes, while also throwing herself sufficiently off balance to cause her to flail backwards and fall the short distance to the ground on her backside.

"Hmmph!" Celeste wiped some dust off her face with the back of her hand. She sat on the broken pavement, pouting, looking out to the water. "I can't believe he'd just...wine and dine me...butter me up like that...and then leave?!"

She stood up and wiped off her backside. "What should I do, now?" Some large debris floated in the water, some distance away. Celeste decided to talk a walk by the water. She wandered down the beach until she came to another shack.

"Oh!" she exclaimed to herself. "Rook seems to see a lot around town. Maybe he's seen Adam." Celeste drew up to the door and knocked. "Rook? Are you there?" She paused, then called, again. "Have you seen Adam?"

Everything had been handled quickly enough. Rook had taken his leave and basically vanished to tend to his wounds. There was no point in him going to clinic. He healed faster and better than most humans did. It was rare for him to need to seek medical attention. He popped his neck as he walked into the shack that he lived in. It didn't take long for him to strip out of his armor, and get it set up on the rack. He was going to have to do some minor repairs on them. When the Death Claws had attacked, he had been removed enough to have no idea what was going on.

With his pike in hand, and his original wounds rewrapped, Rook started back into the town. He didn't get very far however. Celeste was knocking at his door. He raised an eyebrow and looked at her. "Adam? Rook has not seen anyone since he got into the shack. Is Adam missing now? Does Rook need to help you look for him?"

He was concerned in his own way. There was a number of places he could be at. "Has he come back from searching the area for new scrap? Rook remembers hearing him say something about the need for new scrap to build things and repair his boat. Is he on his boat maybe?"

Everything replayed in her head like it was on a loop. Jer vision blurred as she was shadowed by a large figure, a Super Mutant. It was not Rook, but he didn't seem to impose an immediate threat. Though it did not matter much, she couldn't hardly move, her legs felt like rubber melting into the cot. She felt a needle, followed by tugging on her shoulder as she was stitched up. Her head rocked back and forth, her eyes pried open and dry as she had no more tears. The Med-X jad began to course through her veins calming her body down, but not her mind.

“They're real,” she whispered hoarsely to the Super Mutant before he left her side. She could feel the beasts warm saliva on her face again, just like it had been in the town center. She turned her head to shake it off and look away but the beast still stood right in front of her whichever way she turned her head, poised for the kill.

Her attention was diverted, if only for a brief moment as a gentle warmth encompassed her hand. “Don’t worry kid, I’m here for you.” Ace said quietly, lightly brushing a strand of hair from Brandy’s cheek. She stared at him, his image going back and forth between Ace and the deathclaw. Her lip quivered as Ace leaned in closer. She managed to get hear head to rest against his chest on the edge of the cot.

“Am I dead?” her voice quiet, her face embracing the warmth of his chest. Her shoulder and back felt hot from the wounds, “I never got to tell you I love you...I...I’m sorry Ace. I'm so sorry that I never told you, now it's too late.”

CELESTE BROWN -- Rook's shack - mid-afternoon

"Adam? Rook has not seen anyone since he got into the shack. Is Adam missing now? Does Rook need to help you look for him?"

Celeste trembled slightly, somehow having forgotten how tall and...imposing...the super mutant was. Yet, his tone was calm, and concerned. She nodded vigorously, shaking some of her curls into her face. "It would be great if you could help!"

"Has he come back from searching the area for new scrap? Rook remembers hearing him say something about the need for new scrap to build things and repair his boat. Is he on his boat maybe?"

"He's not," Celeste sighed dramatically, feeling close to tears. "I've been by his place twice today, once this morning, and then just now, and both times he didn't answer the door. His brahmin is gone, too." She reached up and rubbed her brow, causing her bosom to shake just slightly. "I didn't know he wanted to look for scrap or nothin'...where do you think he went? How long should it take?" She sniffed. "I'm a bit worried! There's some bad things out there, you know? Scary things -- and not just deathclaws. Oh!" she hopped, interrupting herself, "what if he's hurt, somewhere? How would we know?"

Awful, bloody images of various kinds of terrible deaths invaded her mind. Celeste shuddered, her face becoming quite pale in her worry. "Rook, what do we do?"

Ace Makovich - Clinic - Mid Afternoon

He stood next to Brandy and listened to the mutant as he continued with his story. He was knowledgeable and many of his statements were true, there was no reason to doubt the story he told. Steve stood to leave, which was a bit foolhardy considering he had been thrown, and could possibly still be injured.

As he left he did make talk to Ace, and mentioned perhaps having a town meeting. It made sense, a lot had happened and lot could still occur. Being better prepared would be vital, and everyone needed to be ready for anything else that could happen.

Brandy moved a bit and spoke up. He turned his gaze to her, she seemed to still be dazed and bit out of it. She told him she loved him. He was a bit taken a back, perhaps it was the drugs she was on speaking. He wasn’t sure what his reply should be in this situation. He just smiled for a bit as he pondered a response.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead, “ love ya too, kiddo.” He held her hand and patted it as he looked at her. Before he could say anything, Barney walked in to the clinic and cleared his throat, drawing Ace’s attention. he motioned for Ace. Ace nodded, and he leaned down and gave Brandy another kiss.

He walked over to Barney, “Well old timer, you sure took your time to get to those turrets. Old age must be catching up with you.”

“Smart ass... So hows the kid doing” Barney said as he nodded towards brandy as he lit a cigarette.

“I think she’ll be okay. Took a beating, but she’s strong. Though a bit out of it due to the drugs the doc gave her. So, Steve was here, he mentioned having a town meeting, which honestly isn’t half a bad idea.” Ace replied as he began walking towards the door and staring at the downed mother deathclaw.

“Yeah, good idea. I’ll make the rounds and inform people. I’ll ask Celeste if she’d be willing to host it at the inn, big enough place to have it.” Barne y said as he scratched his face, agreeing with Ace. Ace turned as Barney left, and headed back to Brandy. He took a stool that was sitting against a wall, and placed it by Brandy, keeping her company.

Waylon was cleaning his trusty 1911 when a knock came from the door, he furrowed his brow then shrugged, walking over to the door he notice Frieda standing outside. Before her hand landed on the doorknob, he opened it for her, "Uh, hey," she began, quietly, "Can I bum a cigarette? I'll owe you one, I promise."

He smiled, “Sure, c’mon in,” he held open the door for her as she stepped inside. He closed and locked it, flipping the sign to closed, “Hell, with all that's happened I doubt I'll have many, if any customers today anyways. Lemme see is I still have some in my desk drawer.” Waylon pulled a chair over, “You've had one hell of a day too, have a seat.” He rifled through his desk drawers until he found a four packs Brandy had traded for a couple of shotgun shells. He packed one and tore open the cellophane handing Frieda the whole pack, “Here ya go, that way you'll have some for later,” he winked.

He pulled out a second pack and opened it up, then he held out an antique Zippo and lit Frieda’s cigarette before lighting his and sitting down. “So how's Brandy doing? She didn't look to good at all.” He sighed, “This has kicked Shelby into a hot mess, she's off and about. I hope she keeps her head on straight.” He caught himself rambling, “I'm sorry about that. So, what do you feel like for dinner tonight? I'll cook it up, or at least try.” He laughed a little, “I just want this day to turn into evening and get to dinner.”