Sorry tried posted when the guild was having issues

Sorry it triple posted when the guild was having issues earlier

Dr. Arthur West - Salem Diner

“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.”

Arthur's eyes lit up at the mention of the SRB safehouse, and he excitedly clasped Rick on the shoulders,

"Excellent. That could be just what we need. Supplies and weapons we could use to help defend the town and perhaps even a secure way to contact our superiors. We'll have to come up with a good excuse as to how we procured the supplies of course...but we can worry about that later."

Arthur began impulsively pacing, considering just what to do and how to best word his request to ensure that The Directorate would not only take notice, but grant them request for materials they needed, even when The Institute's own resources were, at this time, limited. He also pondered how might be the best way to use the supplies already in the bunker without arousing any suspicion.

"Yes...yes that should work," he muttered to himself, before looking up at Rick, "Alright, we shouldn't waste any time. Would you be able to lead me to the shelter right away? The sooner we pursue this, the better I feel."

FRIEDA RICHTER - the weapon's shop! -- mid-afternoon

Waylon 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 if I still have some in my desk drawer.”

"Thanks," she breathed in response. Frieda found herself gawking around the shop. There was a vast array of firearms and other sharp objects mounted to the walls, a selection she had never seen in her life. The Enclave had a stockpile, to be certain, but the majority of the weapons were energy based, or explosives. She'd found herself in wasteland gun shops before, but nothing like this. Those other shops were selling hack jobs on junk in comparison to what Waylon, and presumably Shelby, were doing.

Waylon pulled a chair over, “You've had one hell of a day too, have a seat.”

"Huh? Oh, uh, thanks," she repeated, lowering herself into the chair, pulling her attention back to the handsome man behind the desk. How hadn't she noticed how good looking he was, before? Frieda leaned over just slightly to admire his backside. "Well, what can I say...a day in the life, is it not?"

Is that how surface dwellers talk? Do you even hear yourself? You sound like an idiot.

Waylon straightened, producing a handful of cigarette packs, picked one and tore open the cellophane handing Frieda the whole pack, “Here ya go, that way you'll have some for later,” he winked.

Frieda fumbled the pack, not at all expecting that level of generosity. First Brandy, now Waylon..."Thank you," she said for the third time. "I mean -- really -- thanks. I need to start getting Barney to pay me for this town guard gig so I can start trading for my smokes, like a regular...settler." She caught herself before saying something derogatory. "I'll owe ya something for this." She popped up one of the pretty little tubes and felt her mouth begin to water at the sight of it. In her mind, her brother frowned and shook his head. She pushed the image away.

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.”

"The doc does good work. He's got her comfortable and patched up. She seems all shaken up, keeps mumbling 'they're real.' I guess she's talking about the deathclaws?" Frieda shrugged. "I thought they were common to these...ah, to the wasteland. The whole wasteland."

Idiot, idiot, idiot.

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 and changed the subject, “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."

"Mm," Frieda began carefully, tapping off some ashes, "seems like deathclaws make everyone get a little squirrelly. As for dinner, I'm...not picky," she lied. Or was she really lying? It's not like the various cuisines of the wasteland was a topic that she knew anything about. "Brandy cooked up some fried chicken last night that was really good. But," she smiled, trying to lighten herself up some, "I can't cook for shit, so I doubt you could really do much worse."

That part wasn't a lie. The last time they ever put her on kitchen duty was when she was sixteen. The fire called for an evac of several dozen personnel and a sector quarantine for weeks as crews cleaned up the mess.

She started to feel calmer as she worked on her cigarette. It was quiet, but comfortable in the little weapon's shop. "Is Shelby okay, though? Do you think we should go looking for her?"

Salem Clinic >>> Salem Diner /// Midday

Everyone seemed to be making their final comments toward him and making their way outside. Now that all the excitement had died down everyone seemed to just be picking up the pieces. Some seemed like they were in shock others looked like they were going to keel over just because of what he was talking about. “Yeah, sometimes I have that effect on people” he muttered.

He took a moment to look around and take in his surroundings before standing. Making sure his armor was in order. The mutant glanced to the two that were still in the clinic. The girl who lured the death claws here in the first place and the other male who everyone seemed to refer to as Ace. He watched them for a moment, listened to their slight interaction before Ace went to the door to talk to another male.

Picking up his weapon, the mutant powered it up and spun the barrel a few times. Taking care to attach the straps back to his armor while Ace walked back into the clinic. Gorge began to walk out toward the door but stopped for a moment.

Looking over the man and the girl next to him, “If anyone cares to ask, tell them I left to get supplies” he sighed for a moment and looked around. “My friends dying wish was for me to give this town whatever supplies I could find.” Gorge looked to the girl again with his permanent scowl under his helmet. “It's a couple of miles from here, ill be back In an hour or two.”

Hesitating for a moment he turned from the two and headed for the door stopping briefly to look over the mother death claw and back to Ace. “Good thing about these things dying here is that their smell scares off most other creatures of the wasteland. So for the most part the towns safe for a day or so.” bending down, the mutant grabbed the death claws tail and dragged it into the shade. Once completed he took out a knife from his thigh pouch and cut the end of the death claws tail off.

Stepping back up to the door, “oh and one more thing. If no one claims that carcass, ill possess it out when I get back. Now I'm going to go find the good doctor see if he needs any medical supplies.” placing the piece of death claw tail in his pouch. The mutant left toward the town center glancing in windows here and there to try to see the doctor.

After just a little while he was able to spot the man in the dinner speaking to another man he hadn't seen yet. Finding the front door to still be a bit tight but still he managed to fit his way inside. Looking around for a moment then back to the doctor he nodded. “Doctor I'm about to leave to check and see if there are still supplies where my caravan got hit. Is there any medical supplies you need specifically that I can get for you?” the mutant stepped inside and out of the door way, so he wasn't blocking the entrance.

Rick Noel - Salem

Arthur lit up as heard Rick mention the nearby safehouse. "Excellent. That could be just what we need. Supplies and weapons we could use to help defend the town and perhaps even a secure way to contact our superiors. We'll have to come up with a good excuse as to how we procured the supplies of course...but we can worry about that later." the doctor exclaimed.

Rick nodded in agreement, "Yeah, it would all come down to how we ask and what we ask for. I can see them granting some inconspicuous weapons and supplies. I mean wastelanders have gotten their hands on our weapons, but I'd feel less exposed if we asked for excess wasteland weapons... This does make me wonder if they'll want anything in exchange?"

As Rick spoke out loud, the doctor seemed deep in thought as he paced. Before he could speak up, the doctor muttered and then look at Rick speaking up louder, "Alright, we shouldn't waste any time. Would you be able to lead me to the shelter right away? The sooner we pursue this, the better I feel."

"Yes, agreed doctor. It hasnt been used for some time, but should be well supplied. After all, it was part of the contingency plan should anything go wrong. Let just hope we fin the hatch leading down to the safeho..." As Rick spoke his gaze turned toward the super mutant that was coming towards them. He didn't look like that other super mutant the town had.

Before he could even reach for his gun, the mutant spoke up showing some sort of intelligence like Rook, “Doctor I'm about to leave to check and see if there are still supplies where my caravan got hit. Is there any medical supplies you need specifically that I can get for you?”

Rick looked up at the mutant, and he found it hard to look for words, but managed to compose himself. "Well...I'm sure the good doctor is in short supply of pretty much any and all medicine... I'm sorry, I don't believe we have met, name is Rick..."

As Rick introduced himself, Barney intterupted them, "Wanted to let you all know thattonight we'll have a town meeting. I think much needs to be discussed, considering todays events...I think the Inn is a good place, two hours from now."

Shelby closed her fist hard enough that it made her knuckles crack. Shit, I need a jar, she turned to see the new Super Mutant leaving the clinic. She watched as the mutant drug the deathclaw to some, grinding her teeth as he lopped off the deathclaws tail. Squeezing her fists tighter, desperately wanting to approach the mutant, but rather stepping backwards towards Brandy’s house.

“oh and one more thing. If no one claims that carcass, ill possess it out when I get back. Now I'm going to go find the good doctor see if he needs any medical supplies.” The mutant called out.

Raising her arm, she suddenly yanked it back to her side, “I want that,” her voiced actually cracked, nowhere near as loud as she wanted to scream it. The last thing she wanted was to be face to face with a super mutant right now. She bit her lip and turned towards Brandy’s door, she has mason jars. Shelby tried the door but it was locked, surprisingly solid she furrowed her brow. She next door to Mary's home, the horse gnawed on some grass as if nothing ever happened. She froze when the horse shuffled its hooves in the dirt, bringing her hand to her 1911. She knocked but no answer, she was turning the handle when the door pulled open.

“May I help Miss?” asked a Mr. Handy.

Shelby peered in either side of the floating robot, she didn't care too much for robots, very much the opposite of Brandy. Well, they were total opposites, so that was no surprise. “Where's Mary?”

“I'm afraid she is unavailable at the moment. Madam is resting, may I be of any assistance Miss?”

“Nope,” Shelby pushed the robot aside, “I need to speak to her now , damn bucket of bolts.” She went upstairs and looked in two rooms before seeing Mary sleeping heavily. Shelby quietly shut the down behind her, placing her staff in the corner and her backpack on an old velvet chair. She walked over, “Mary?”

Nothing, Mary didn't even flinch. Shelby couldn't help but wonder how on earth Mary was as old as she had said, she brushed sime stray hairs behind Mary's ear. “Ma...Mary?” she gazed longingly at the woman sleeping so peacefully before her. Shelby lightly ran her finger down Mary's arm causing goosebumps, Mary turned over and Shelby sighed. Mary seemed to be a stern one, her actions showed more age than her features could even think of showing. Shelby gently shook Mary's shoulders, causing a deep inhale and shrug but that was it. God dammit, Shelby cursed to herself. Finally she sat down and nudged Mary, “Would you wake the fu…” she noticed an empty bottle of whiskey on the nightstand, “Mary, wake the fuck up, I need something.”

Mary Hawthorne - her house

Mary stirred slightly as a gentle touch moved down her arm, unearthing memories of all but forgotten pleasures that awakened a throbbing in her womb that would not be denied, followed shortly by a gentle shaking.

"It's still morning, Dearest", Mary murmured huskily in mock protest and she rolled over onto her back, looking forward to what was coming next, "You can have me, but least let me wake up, first.."

Then she opened her eyes, and the moment was gone.

Instead of her husband John, sitting on the edge of her bed next to her was Shelby, in a rather pensive mood. This irritated Mary greatly. It was bad enough the young woman had dredged up memories of the only man that had ever really satisfied her....she had also reminded her of why she had suppressed the memories of what she had given up for her power.

“Mary", Shelby said impatiently as she nudged her again, "Wake the fuck up, I need something.”

"What do ye want, ye slattern?", Mary hissed as she sat up with a start, leaning forward until she was nose to nose with the younger woman. "Did I not tell ye to come back after sundown?.

Mary's teeth bared slightly as Shelby explained.

"A mason jar?!?", Mary bellowed, "Ye woke me up for a damned Mason Jar? What is the matter with ye?" Mary then leaned back and rested on her arms, then planted a foot on Shelby's back and began to push. "Go ask the damned robot for one....and why don't ye make yourself useful and draw me a bath!"

"Miss Mary", the Robot, hovering in the doorway began to say. "I...."

"Damn you!", Mary bellowed as she snatched up a pillow from her bed and hurled it successfully at the robot, "go tend to the horse, will ye?"

"Yes, Ma'am", the robot replied obsequiously as it retreated out of the room and floated away. "Right away Ma'am".

It was then that Mary noticed that Shelby was armed to the teeth, carrying several weapons and had left a stout staff leaning against the wall.

"What are ye up to?", Mary demanded, "Why are ye armed for battle to collect a mason jar?" Her eyes narrowed accusingly and she hissed in a whisper. "Are ye thinking of trying what you saw this morning? Ye know nothing of what I know....it would end very badly for ye to try thy hand at something that powerful."

Dr. Arthur West - Salem Diner
"Yes, agreed doctor. It hasnt been used for some time, but should be well supplied. After all, it was part of the contingency plan should anything go wrong. Let just hope we fin the hatch leading down to the safeho..."

Arthur turned to look at whatever had caught Rick's attention, and saw the great green bulk of a super-mutant striding through the doorway of the partially ruined diner.

“Doctor I'm about to leave to check and see if there are still supplies where my caravan got hit. Is there any medical supplies you need specifically that I can get for you?”

Rick looked up at the mutant, and he seemed shocked by his intelligence, "Well...I'm sure the good doctor is in short supply of pretty much any and all medicine... I'm sorry, I don't believe we have met, name is Rick..."

As Rick introduced himself, Barney interrupted them, "Wanted to let you all know that tonight we'll have a town meeting. I think much needs to be discussed, considering today's events...I think the Inn is a good place, two hours from now."

After Barney made his announcement, Arthur turned back to Gorge and nodded, "Like Rick said, anything you find would be of use. The townspeople were able to donate some supplies earlier, but I fear we can never have enough at the rate we are going. This town seems to be a hotbed of trouble. Please take anything you can spare to the church and Frieda and I can sort it later."

Once Gorge had left, Arthur once more addressed Rick, lowering his voice so that others wouldn't hear,

"That's the mutant I mentioned earlier," He whispered, "He's far more intelligent than Rook even, and he claims to have been a member of The Brotherhood of Steel at one point. Not sure I fully believe that, but he's certainly a character to watch out for. He's been helpful so far, but he's also something of an unknown quantity. I've never seen a mutant of his like before..."

"Also..." he continued, "Perhaps we should wait until after the meeting to visit the safehouse? Once we see what this town meeting is about, we can head there right away and assess what we can use. Let me know when you're ready to go."

Lesley-Salem entrance

Lesley sighed under her mask as she walked along a crumbling and faded road. She saw a sign pointing this direction that said ‘town of Salem’ a few blocks back and decided she needed a break. The road was hurting her feet and she needed a place to lie down. Coming appon a big open spot of an unfinished perimiter she pressed her mask closer to her mouth when she noticed the smell of decomposition from various piles of mulch and the body’s she assumed that it once belonged to.

She held her large rifle closer to herself as she casually steped over a pile of blood and past a well dead death claw. With a few looks left and right she attempted to find the nearest place to rent a room for the knight, but all she found were some glares and dirty looks. Finally after walking around for a few minuets she found it and opened the door with a low screech the chapter of people inside.

Making her way to the counter she leaned over and attempted to ask the man behind the bar “You think I could rent a room?” Pushing a small sack of around thirty caps toward him. With a grunt he handed her a room key and pulled away the caps. After making it to her room she locked the majority of her equipment up in her room, only taking her revolver and knife back to the bar area to buy herself a drink.

"Mm," Frieda began carefully, tapping off some ashes, "seems like deathclaws make everyone get a little squirrely. As for dinner, I'm...not picky," she paused, "Brandy cooked up some fried chicken last night that was really good. But," she smiled, "I can't cook for shit, so I doubt you could really do much worse."

Waylon laughed, Guess we shall see about that,” he turned and pulled open his small cooler and pulled out two purified water, “Would you like one?” He held one bottle out.

It was quiet, but comfortable in the little weapon's shop. "Is Shelby okay, though? Do you think we should go looking for her?"

Waylon swallowed his drink and shook his head, “No, as much as I would like to she...it would probably just piss her off even more. She needs to do what she needs to do you know?” He twisted the cap back on his water bottle, “I noticed you looking at the wall. Shelby makes those blades in the back garage, she has a forge set up. It's really an art form, I tried and failed miserably.” He laughed and took another toke on his cigarette. “She could make you one if you'd like? Guarantee there wouldn't be another like it anywhere.”

Snuffing out his cigarette in the ashtray, “Do you need a hand with anything over at the clinic? Try to get it so you can get a nap, it's been non-stop today.”

"What do ye want, ye slattern?", Mary hissed as she sat up with a start, leaning forward until she was nose to nose with the younger woman. "Did I not tell ye to come back after sundown?.” Mary's teeth bared slightly as Shelby explained.

Shelby curled her lip and hissed right back, “Yeah...you did, but I need a mason jar.”

"A mason jar?!?", Mary bellowed, "Ye woke me up for a damned Mason Jar? What is the matter with ye?" Mary then leaned back and rested on her arms, then planted a foot on Shelby's back and began to push. "Go ask the damned robot for one....and why don't ye make yourself useful and draw me a bath!"

“Damn, I thought I'd show some respect and ask you, not a bucket of bolts,” Shelby shifted so Mary's foot slipped off, “Fine…” Shelby stood up as the robot floated into the room.

"Miss Mary", the Robot, hovering in the doorway began to say. "I...."

"Damn you!", Mary bellowed as she snatched up a pillow from her bed and hurled it successfully at the robot, "go tend to the horse, will ye?"

"Yes, Ma'am", the robot replied obsequiously as it retreated out of the room and floated away. "Right away Ma'am".

Shelby folded her arms and cracked a sly grin, “Someone is moody as hell,” she said under her breath.

It was then that Mary noticed that Shelby was armed to the teeth, carrying several weapons and had left a stout staff leaning against the wall.

"What are ye up to?", Mary demanded, "Why are ye armed for battle to collect a mason jar?" Her eyes narrowed accusingly and she hissed in a whisper. "Are ye thinking of trying what you saw this morning? Ye know nothing of what I know....it would end very badly for ye to try thy hand at something that powerful."

This startled Shelby and she shook her head, “Na...no, I have some other business that needs handled. Sooner rather than later would be nice. I need the jar to...nevermind, I just need a fuckin’ jar damnit. What color bath do you want?” She raised her brow and smirked, “I can't draw for shit, but I'll try.” She placed her hands on her hips, “I'll just surprise you I suppose.” With that Shelby slipped across the hall to the bathroom, once the water was hot she placed the plug in the drain and returned to the bedroom. She bowed and gestured towards the bathroom, “Ye bath is ready.” Then she straightened up, “I'll go ask Bolts for a jar, sorry I bothered you.”

Adam 'Trails' Wilford- ????

Adam limped along the roadside, his clothes drenched in river water, filth and blood. He shambled almost as if he were the very Ferals he just fought off. The right side of his face burned fiercely from the pain of the the explosion searing him and the ferals he'd fought off. Every once in a while he burped up river water still in his lungs as he punched forward, each step a victory against his pain and fatigue. He'd fallen into the river when he and Lorelei got caught in the horde haunting Lexington. He threw himself into the fray, trying to buy Lorelei time to escape. When he last saw her, she'd barely made it out. He planned to jump off the fire escape until a feral grabbed him, causing him to misfire his gun, hitting a gas can and triggering an explosion. He was thrown into the river, the worst of the impact deflected by the ghoul's corpse.

Adam awoke floating down the river until he found himself washed up near somewhere called 'Revere Station' and began to slog his way north towards home. Finally, so close to home, he couldn't push on. His only thoughts were getting home, hoping to find Lorelei there, safe and sound. He couldn't walk anymore and he was burning inside, it was all he could do from stopping himself from falling asleep. He finally found enough strength to pull himself, hand by hand, along the roadside. Hour by hour, he'd made his way a few feet, sometimes passing out. A sense of overwhelming relief washed over his soul when he saw through the daze and fog of his illness the borders of the Salem township nearing. It gave him just enough fire to finally get off his stomach and stand, each step as if a lead weight were wrapped around his entire leg until he crashed like deadweight through the clinic's doors. His last words before passing out were, "Help me. Where is Lorelei?".

Salem Diner >>> Salem's eastern perimeter /// Midday

The mutant stood nearly at attention as the doctor and his companion spoke. The man seemed taken back by him but was able to introduce himself as Rick. With a slight nod the mutant spoke, “A pleasure to make your acquaintance Rick. You may call me Gorge.” A bit formal, but he didn’t care too much. At least the shopping list wasn’t that specific, they needed all they could get apparently.

The footsteps of someone approaching from behind him nearly caught him off guard as another town’s folk made an announcement. “Wanted to let you all know that tonight we'll have a town meeting. I think much needs to be discussed, considering today’s events... I think the Inn is a good place, two hours from now.”

After the man left Gorge couldn’t help but sigh, “Well I won’t be able to make it back in two hours. I guess I’ll go find something else to occupy my time.” he waited for a moment to see what the doctor had to say about his proposition before leaving. The doctor seemed to agree with this Rick fellow, “As you wish, at least this town has proven to be… capable.” With a final nod the mutant turned and walked back into the street.

For a moment the giant stood in the street without purpose just sort of looking back and forth trying to find something to do. With finding nothing to do and not particularly wanting to spend the next two hours doing nothing. Gorge opted to just wander around town and get used to the surroundings. Seeing as how he might just be staying here for a little while or until they kick him out.

Gorge wandered around the broken and bruised buildings, the town seemed to have had its fair share of problems in recent days. The smaller bodies of Death claws still lay in the streets. The few that were still around he moved over near the big one next to the clinic. He could hear voices inside but didn’t think anything of it and continued on his way.

Behind one of the buildings was an odd sight, a poorly taken care of Gatling laser lay still and cold. Looking as if it was just left there and no one had any claim to it. The mutant didn’t see any problem with taking it, checking it over for problems before continuing on. This time he walked the perimeter of the town making sure to periodically rub the Death claw tail on random objects effectively marking the area. This scent would ward off future threats. None of the smarter wild animals would dare come near a place that was marked by a death claw.

He stopped for a moment in front of a few of the turrets that were clustered at the front of the town. Some seemed to scan him for a movement before continuing to buzz and whir moving from side to side. He did however notice one of the turrets had been shredded, sparks still arcing off it from the power supply. It could very easily start a small fire if it continued this way.

Not wanting to create more issues for the already battered town the mutant disconnected the power cable from the base of the machine. For a moment all he could do was stare at it and then back to the outskirts of town. An idea finally made its way to his head. Picking up the random bits and pieces of the destroyed turret he set them down on a nearby flat bed. Putting all the pieces down as well as the Gatling laser. He was about to begin work on the turret when he smelt it. The stench of death and mutants.

The sudden smell reminded him of the mutants that were killed earlier and then again to his dead friend. “You would have liked this place Harold.” He spoke to himself as he walked around the old rusted cars to where the dead mutants laid. He took his time searching through their bodies, taking weapons, ammunition, caps, and bits of armor from them before returning to the task at hand.

Retrieving the small metal welder which was a modified laser pistol and a few other small tools. The mutant began to work on the turret modifying the power supply and the motor that rotated the turret. The bio scanner was still intact but the old gun it had was completely destroyed. He continued to work on the turret occasionally stopping to look around and make sure nothing was trying to sneak up on him. With a little of luck he would hopefully have the turret armored and firing a Gatling laser before the town meeting started.

(Once again, so sorry for the delay. With baby cutting teeth and my job getting crazy busy, I am some times unable to even get on my comp)

He had asked a question, and she had answered, her head nodded vigorously, shaking some of her curls into her face. "It would be great if you could help!"

"Then Rook help." He said, nodding once in return.

"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?"

"Ok, ok ok. Calm down. Rook knows what it is like for people to leave, but none just randomly walk away from Rook. There is reason. You say he took Brahmin. Maybe he find something, something important. Something he can't lift on own, but needs the help of Brahmin. No sense in thinking the worst until find out for sure." He reached up, placing a hand upon the top of her head, as if patting her to try to make her relax like someone would do with a cat. "Assuming worst is how worst happens. Always try to think happy, it has helped Rook for most of his life."

Celeste shuddered, her face becoming quite pale in her worry. "Rook, what do we do?"

"Rook will help you find him. First thing is first. We follow him..." Rook said, reaching inside his home and grabbing one the pistol he had carried with him for protection, though he didn't need it. "But we need things. Take pistol, go get water for you, and any armor you might wear. Rook needs a few moments to get his armor back on. Also, go to doctorman. Ask if we can buy medical things in case he is hurt." He would then offer her the caps he had. It wasn't much, but it should be enough for at least a basic kit. "Then meet me back at Adam's home."

FRIEDA RICHTER - the weapon shop -- late? afternoon

Waylon laughed, "Guess we shall see about that,” he turned and pulled open his small cooler and pulled out two purified water, “Would you like one?” He held one bottle out.

Frieda reflexively recoiled, though she tried to catch herself. She didn't want to offend Waylon, let alone have to have an awkward conversation just then.

"You'll have to tell him, eventually," Brian's voice in her mind, again.

When are you gonna move out? she scowl-thought at him. "Uh...cheers," she replied to Waylon, taking the water bottle. She cracked it and gave a small sip. Some habits would take a while to die. "Is Shelby okay, though? Do you think we should go looking for her?"

Waylon swallowed his drink and shook his head, “No, as much as I would like to she...it would probably just piss her off even more. She needs to do what she needs to do you know?” He twisted the cap back on his water bottle, “I noticed you looking at the wall. Shelby makes those blades in the back garage, she has a forge set up. It's really an art form, I tried and failed miserably.” He laughed and took another toke on his cigarette. “She could make you one if you'd like? Guarantee there wouldn't be another like it anywhere.”

"Huh!" Frieda huffed, truly impressed. "That's pretty damn amazing. Sadly, though, it'd just be an ornamental piece. I'm way better at wielding things that go 'pew pew.'" Plus, not like I have a place to hang it, anyways.

Snuffing out his cigarette in the ashtray, “Do you need a hand with anything over at the clinic? Try to get it so you can get a nap, it's been non-stop today.”

"Um, nah," Frieda replied, tapping out her own stub of a cigarette. "Apparently there's a new nurse in town. A...super mutant...like Rook. Only this one used to, ugh," she closed her eyes and swallowed a wave of nausea. "Used to be Brotherhood. Apparently," she finished quickly. "But, you're right, I'm supposed to be the clinic guard and not Gorge, so I should get my ass back there. That back door remains a hell of a mess, thanks to a deathclaw, and a definite security risk." She clapped her hands on the top of her thighs, smiled, and stood up from her chair to approach the door.

"I'll see you --"

Her comment was interrupted by a sudden knocking at the door, causing her to jump. She looked over at Waylon, who shrugged. Frieda opened the door.

"Hey Shelby -- err -- oh. It's you," Barney corrected himself.

"Something wrong?" Frieda cut straight to the chase, her hand lowering to her weapon on her belt in response.

"Not this time. Just makin' the rounds lettin' everyone know we're having a town meeting at the inn, two hours from now. See ya!" With that Barney offered a wave and left.

"The inn? Why would we meet there?" Frieda mused out loud. "I hope it has a bar. Dealing with these surfaaaah-I mean, townsfolk, can be frustrating, don't you think?"

Get out, get out now, don't make it worse for yourself.

Frieda cleared her throat. "Okay, I'll be at the clinic, hauling rubble around. Literally."

That's hot. Not.

She paused in the street to take a few deep, calming breaths. Frieda knew she'd have to tell him of her origins, eventually. Sooner rather than later was probably better. Give him a chance to decide what he was getting into. ...or, if he wanted to get into it, at all.

Frieda sighed. Before she realized it, she had wandered back to the front of the clinic, just in time to see a roughed up individual stumble up the steps, through the door, and collapse heavily to the floor. She looked up and into the clinic and was met by Ace's gaze. Steve was absent, Brandy unconscious, and Gorge, well, AWOL.

I suppose I could have come back to worse. She glanced over to Steve's abandoned cot and figured that was as good a place as any. Frieda squat over the man's body and hauled with all her strength, nearly dropping him when she realized he was soaking wet. "Jesus!" she cursed, adjusting her grip and pulling the man up once more. She half-dragged him to the open cot, pushing and pulling and rolling him onto it. She leaned her ear over his mouth and held it there for a few moments to confirm that he was breathing.

"Do you know where the doc went?" Frieda muttered aloud, not expecting anyone to answer her. Movement in the diner windows caught her eyes. She remembered the last time she went in there looking for someone and what a waste of time it had been.

She could default to what she usually did to try and find the doc, and that was to run around calling his name until he showed up. Did she really want to do that through town, though? The very thought exhausted her.

She exhaled slowly. "Fuck." Frieda stood over the latest patient and crossed her arms, looking him over from head to toe. He seemed familiar but she couldn't pinpoint it. You have basic first aid training. He's not missing any limbs or anything.
Give the doc a leg up, for once. She opened and closed her hands as she tried to think of what to do, first. His skin was red and he looked like he sustained some burns, but that didn't make sense with the soaking wet clothing. She looked up at Ace and pointed across the room. "Grab me some more blankets. I can at least get him dry and warm."

CELESTE BROWN - Rook's shack -- late afternoon

"Rook will help you find him. First thing is first. We follow him..." Rook said, reaching inside his home and producing a pistol. "But we need things. Take pistol, go get water for you, and any armor you might wear. Rook needs a few moments to get his armor back on. Also, go to doctorman. Ask if we can buy medical things in case he is hurt." He would then offer her the caps he had. It wasn't much, but it should be enough for at least a basic kit. "Then meet me back at Adam's home."

Celeste's eyes naturally widened with every task assigned to her. It was one thing to be cooking four different food items in a busy kitchen at her mom and dad's trading post and cafe, it was slightly different to be asked to seek out a weapon and medical supplies...and stay calm about it.

She refused the gun. "Oh! I don't even know how to use one of those things. I'll...go get a knife, or something." Celeste took a deep breath. "Okay," she muttered aloud with firm resolve. "I'll go back to the inn and get some supplies, and then go to the clinic, and meet you at Adam's place." Celeste paused, nodded to herself, then scurried off. She burst through the doors of the inn, her face red and sweaty.

"Archie!" she huffed, doubling over and leaning on her thighs. "Ah...Archie...!"

"My heavens, Manager! Is something amiss?" the robot replied.

"No. Well, yes! Well, sort of," Celeste spluttered. "Rook is gonna help me look for Adam, but I have to bring a weapon. Do you have something that I could use?"

"Indeed not," Archie huffed. "I have no need for such things, as I have a saw blade and a flamethrower plus a multitude of other built in tools. General Atomics thought of everything."

"Oh, okay. That General sounds like a pretty smart guy! But what do I bring to Rook?"

"If it's just a weapon you want, I'm sure there's a spare baseball bat with the recreational items. I'll fetch it for you."

Celeste found herself poking around behind the desk while she waited for Archie to rummage around in the basement. Her eyes were drawn to the guest log where a new entry had been written. Archie reappeared with a baseball bat.

"Here you are, Manager! Just be sure not to injure yourself, now."

"Archie! We have a new guest?!" Celeste squealed, pointing at the log.

"Indeed! She even addressed me as though I were human. Most flattering."

Celeste took the baseball bat and nearly dropped it, not at all prepared for its weight. "Well, that's silly," she giggled. "You're obviously just a machine, not a person -- even if the General was so smart to build you the way they did."

Archie's tone turned to annoyed. "Shouldn't you be going?"

"Right! Yes! I need to go to the clinic. Can you take care of the inn for just a little longer?"

"Of course, of course. The entire town will be here in a couple hours, I'll just keep busy making sure the dining hall can accommodate them."

Celeste merely nodded, barely hearing Archie's reply, as she left the inn once more The baseball bat was manageable with both hands, but she didn't care to try to run while carrying it. She approached the clinic and couldn't help but notice the blood trails and stains leading up to, and all over, the front door step. "Someone should really clean that up!" she chirped to herself.

She walked up the steps, the bat bumping along at her feet, and walked through the doors of the clinic. Celeste looked around to see Brandy laying unconscious further in, Ace nearby, and the back of Frieda, who was leaning over another patient. "Hey! Is the doc here?" Celeste called in, but no one seemed to hear or see her.

Frieda opened and closed her hands before standing up straight and addressing Ace. "Grab me some more blankets," she pointed across the room. "At least I can get him dry, and warm."

Celeste took a short breath, stepping into the clinic and towards Frieda. "Hi, Frieda! Is the doc around?"

"Does it look like it?" Frieda huffed in response, annoyed. She leaned down and began unfastening the patient's clothing. Celeste followed her gaze and dropped the baseball bat as she gasped. It clattered loudly to the floor.

"Adam! Oh, my god, ADAM!!" She lunged over his body, touching his face, hair, and clothing. Celeste rounded on Frieda and grabbed the taller woman's sleeve. "What happened?! What is he doing here?"

Frieda flicked Celeste's grip off her sleeve and firmly pushed her away. "He just got here, and I don't know, but obviously he's hurt and needs help. His clothing is soaked so we need to get him dry and warm while we wait for the doctor to return. If you're just going to freak out, then you need to take off, you understand?"

"I'm not going anywhere," Celeste growled, wiping tears from her eyes. "Why isn't the doctor here?"

"Why aren't you at the inn?"

Celeste ignored Frieda's rudeness, and began wringing her hands. "Is he gonna be okay?"

"We're working on it." Frieda continued unfastening Adam's clothing. Celeste looked away, blushing slightly, out of respect.

Dr. Arthur West - Returning to Salem Clinic

"I'd best be off. I'll see you after the meeting then Rick." Arthur said as he waved a farewell and exited the diner. He made the short walk back to the clinic in remarkably good spirits, hopeful that Rick's discovery and his plan to obtain support would be able to provide the much needed aid to the town. He had visions of disguised Institute Synths assisting with things around the town and some actual medical equipment and supplies being delivered to the Clinic. Perhaps even a Courser or two to safeguard his patients. He knew of course that he'd be lucky to get even a small portion of that, if at all, but he couldn't help but imagine what he could do with The Directorate's full backing.

"Frieda are you back?" Arthur said asked as he stepped back into the clinic. His question was immediately answered when he saw Frieda and the woman from the Inn standing near one of the patient beds.

Celeste? I think her name was... He thought to himself. He wasn't sure he'd been properly introduced to her, only that he'd asked her for any spare medical supplies and she'd been one of the few who had answered.

He stopped when he saw that Frieda was leaning over and appeared to be treating someone on the bed.

"Oh dear...here we go again..." He muttered as he rushed over, "What's happened?" He asked calmly, looking between the two women for answers, "Good lord this man looks like he's been through hell and back..."

Arthur began carefully inspecting Adam, making a mental note of each of the immediate major injuries he could see,

"Second, possible third degree burns along the right side of his face, neck and torso...lacerations across his..." Arthur stopped for moment, realizing that the injuries he'd suffered were consistent with some sort of animal attack. The teeth marks however...

"He was attacked by ghouls?" Arthur pondered aloud.

He considered for a moment just what sort of situation the man had gotten himself into before realizing that it was pointless to speculate.

"Thank you for helping him Frieda," Arthur said, as he touched her on the shoulder, "I don't know what I'd do without you. I'll take it from here. Now Ms...Celeste...is it? I understand you are concerned for your friend but I'll need you to please step back. You can stay in the Clinic if you like, but I want you to stay calm and sit down in one of the pews over there. Don't worry, I'll do everything I can to help him. I don't usually like to toot my own horn so to speak..." Arthur cleared his throat, a bit embarrassed he used such a cliche'd expression, "...but I daresay there's no better clinic in the wasteland for him to be in."

Arthur gave Frieda a knowing look, and then turned back to Adam,

"Now then...lets begin. I'll start by wrapping those nasty burns and giving him some strong antibiotics to prevent infection. Perhaps some Rad-Away as well..."

Adam 'Trails' Wilford- Salem Clinic

Adam fought at Ghouls in Lexington, but these were somewhat sentient, holding him down as he tried to fight back against their attempts to bind his arms and possibly drag him off to God only knows where. But to his fear, he felt drained, each thrust of an arm was as if he treading through a pool of oil. He screamed when they burned him with what were likely some kind of sadistic torture compound soaked into their bindings. He could only plead for Lorelei in the mists of Lexington, the darkness swallowing him until his eyes burned from an exploding barrel's light, then darkness once more.

Outside of Adam's coma-

Adam winced visibly when the they put the gauze on the right side of his face over the burns from the explosion, he continued to lay abed, unconscious, the only signs of any response were when they injected a treatment of antibiotics and Rad-Away. Adam spasmed, the chems burning his insides as they purged the radiation and infections. The worst of the pain subsided and Adam's labored breathes began to slowly transition into steady and rhythmic breathing, but Adam himself didn't awaken. But with the infection that had slowly begun to settle in kept at bay now, the fever dreams of his coma began to subside into black and undreaming sleep.

Mary Hawthorne - Her House

“Na...no", Shelby said, clearly rattled by the accusation enough to drop her sassy comebacks for a moment, "I have some other business that needs handled. Sooner rather than later would be nice. I need the jar to...nevermind, I just need a fuckin’ jar damnit. What color bath do you want?” She raised her brow and smirked, “I can't draw for shit, but I'll try.” She placed her hands on her hips, “I'll just surprise you I suppose.”

With that Shelby slipped across the hall to the bathroom, from which Mary could hear the tub being turned on. Still fuming, Mary went out and descended the stairs, and headed into the kitchen....her anger ebbed away as she located a mason jar that was empty and went back upstairs. It was not wise of her to take out her anger over being reminded of the life she had once had on the younger woman...after all that was a choice she had made herself. As she climbed back up the stairs, Shelby emerged from the bathroom and bowed and gestured towards it, “Ye bath is ready.” Then she straightened up, “I'll go ask Bolts for a jar, sorry I bothered you.”

"Don't be silly", Mary said matter-of factly as she handed Shelby the jar, "Here's your jar...", she added as she shed her bathrobe and let it fall to the floor, then casually kicked it across the floor into the corner, "....now if you please, wash my back and tell me about this business you need to conduct."

Mary settled in the tub, and Shelby obliged by soaping up and then washing her back while explaining her predicament. A variation of a age old tale....Shelby had been jilted by her lover, the young sickly woman who owned the horse, and sought revenge. Mary found this to be fortuitous...if Shelby was to follow in her footsteps, she would have to cut her ties with her past. Dealing with this Eliza woman and her friends could easily serve as a means to gauge how far Shelby was willing to go...if she proved squeamish it was better to learn now than later. An idea began to form in her mind.

"You wanted to learn my ways", Mary finally said, "How would you like your first lesson?"

Mary patiently listened to Shelby's reply then answered.

"What I propose will give you the revenge you seek", Mary replied, "But I'm warning you....if we do this there is no going back. You will see and do things that will change how you see the world forever. And you must swear you'll do exactly what I say once this begins....no matter what I ask of you, because it will mean both of our deaths if you disobey me."

"If you do as I ask", Mary concluded, "I will take you as my apprentice and teach you what I can." Her bath concluded, she stood up, and stepped out of the tub and bade Shelby dry her off. She then walked into her room and produced a old pre-war road map from a dresser.

"Danvers is eight miles north-west of us", Mary explained, showing her on the map. "A mile to the North of that is a crossroads...here. Take my wagon and brahmin, and meet me there at noon once you've acquired your "friends". They are no use for our purposes dead....and Eliza and Sarah need to be in reasonably good shape. From there, we will proceed to our destination. If you do not appear there by the day after tomorrow...I'm going to assume that you've changed your mind and we'll never speak of these things again. I won't hold it against you so long as you keep silent about what you already know."

She then leaned forward and took Shelby's head in her hands and kissed her with some heat, pushing her tongue into her mouth, then let go.

"Now go", Mary said, "Go and track down those who wronged you....bring them to me and together we will teach them a lesson they'll remember until they die."