[IC] A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

[2sky11]

Ace Makovich - Salem - Noon

Ace groaned as he lay on the ground. He struggled to get up, feeling all of his body hurting. He pushed himself up, as the wood that had fallen on him fell down the sides to the ground. He was on his knees and his vision was slightly blurry but it slowly came back. He looked around to try and gather his bearings, when he saw the dead deathclaw on the ground.

He slowly lifted himself up to his feet and looked behind him. The church wall was still in good condition, it would require some fixing up, just in case. The double door on the other hand were gone aside from that half that had a dead ‘claw slumped over it. Ace slowly walked over to it, all wobbly as he felt some pain. He put his hands behind his back and arched it to try and feel better.

He grabbed the ‘claw’s feet and pulled on it, but soon it caused the rest of the door fell down. He looked over down the street, and saw what looked like the armored super mutant. Ace grabbed his plasma pistol and slowly made his way over and pointed it at the mutie’s head, “Well… who are you and what are your intentions?”

[SkrtWithAWeapon]

https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/4496346

[ReusableSword]

Gorge the mutant - Salem center of town -> Edge of town near the sea - Morning

Looking up at the sky Gorge slowly remembered what just happened, a blur of black and brown, the hope that the laser fire would put it down before it got to me, the wash of relief after the Deathclaw left to return to its quarry leaving the mutant stunned on the ground. Slowly the mutant sat up then got up on its feet, he checked his armor and sighed, he was in one piece but would have to repair his armor when he got the next opportunity.

But for now the town was silent and seemed secure. Picking up his weapon the armored mutant checked it over, satisfied that it was still working moved to the large Deathclaw. There were others near all being relatively cautious of the beast.

Gorge still had something to do, setting his weapon down the large mutant grabbed one of the large Deathclaws horns with one hand and its jaw with the other. With a grunt and a quick jerking motion the Deathclaws neck snapped. Its body twitched once and then never again.

He was sure it was already dead but every precaution should be taken for walking tanks. Looking around to the others as he grabbed the Deathclaws tail and began pulling it out of the door way,

“You should get someone to remove the claws, horns, teeth, hide, and some bones.” He paused for a moment as he pulled the beast across the ground.

“All of which can get you more than a few caps to the right person.” Again pausing walking back to pick up his gun now that the door way was clear.

“The meats not that bad either, as long as it hasn’t eaten anything irradiated in a while.” The mutant spoke as if it were a normal person aside from the rough voice, glancing about the others present.

He did glance at the man with the plasma pistol and sighed, “You are in no condition to fight so drop the pistol before you embarrass yourself.” The mutant rubbed the side of his helmet for a moment before sighing, “My name is Gorge and I’m seeing to my friend.”

His attention yet again turned to the dinner, the screams immediately putting him back into soldier mode. Making sure his gun was reloaded he trudged over to the dinner the mutant stopped in front of the door way and began to warm up the weapon ready to fire on anything that lay beyond the door.

Stepping through the thresh hold of the dinner the mutant came into view of a few others surrounding an unconscious man with a dead Deathclaw nearby. He lowered his weapon and was able to pick up the last bit of what was said. Gorge strapped his gun back over his shoulder and went back outside to find a board.

It didn’t take him long to find a broken door that would suffice, he was moving with silent purpose when he reentered the dinner. Shoving the man next to the unconscious one out of the way, setting the broken door down next the man he gently pulled him onto the door. The mutant was being unusually careful making sure this man wasn’t jarred too much.

Bending over, the mutant slowly lifted the man, and the door with relative ease and began walking toward the Clinic. It was a little awkward getting out of the door of the dinner, but he managed to simply pull the door with the man behind him through before picking him up again. Gorge wouldn’t really care if anyone approached him or tried to stop him, he would simply sigh and quietly keep moving.

Walking through the door of the clinic Gorge stopped for a moment before moving the man to a cot and carefully setting the makeshift back board on the cot. The armored mutant stood up straight for a moment before he looked to his friend on a nearby cot.

“Harold” the mutant whispered, moving to his side and kneeling down, “How bad?”

The ghoul coughed for a moment, wiping the blood from his hand, “Fatal”

Gorge sighed and again looked around, “Come now old friend, let’s leave the good doctor to his work”

The mutant picked up the ghoul with care before moving back and walked out the door. For a moment the mutant looked around before walking off toward the sea. After a little while he found a quiet spot overlooking the ocean and set his friend down. The mutant looked around again for a moment, finally comfortable that nothing around would bother them he sat down. Listening to the waves roll over the shore the mutant produced two bottles of whiskey from the small pouch on his side, he had more but the others were broken. For now, he would spend this time drinking and talking about good times in his friend’s final moments.

[SkrtWithAWeapon]

FRIEDA RICHTER - outside of Salem Clinic -- mid to late morning

This is not ideal. Frieda figured she'd get a cramp in a few places, but never expected the eventual, full-body crush she was beginning to experience. The worst part, she figured, was that the Study Buddy was keeping her fully awake and alert during the whole thing, too. It would've been the perfect time for a nap.

She heard approaching, quick footsteps. Suddenly, a slight, blue-eyed woman was hovering over her. The woman's eyes flicked over the situation then brandished an old-world fire poker. Some of the dense weight of the deathclaw was lifted.

“We don't have all day Honey, c’mon," she yelled, her strength straining. Frieda pushed herself backward as quickly as her limbs would let her. It wasn't so easy to do when the very air in her lungs had slowly been squeezed out under the beast. As soon as Frieda was clear was clear, the stranger yanked the poker back, “Fun shit huh? Take care of these then those muties.”

Frieda wheezed. Her breath was returning to her body in full force and she almost toppled over. She sputtered and attempted to mutter some thanks, but the woman had taken off. Frieda gulped air, cursing the pins and needles feeling coursing through her entire body. She braced herself against the clinic's outer wall as she recovered her breath, and her balance. She turned to see Ace bolting out from behind the other side of the clinic towards the largest deathclaw in the center of town. Frieda looked around to see no immediate danger, and retreated back to the interior of the clinic to stand guard, and watch the scene unfold.

She watched an assortment of wastelanders taking shots at the deathclaw matriarch, including Ace, who then was flung towards the clinic. Frieda ducked just in time for assorted wood and shingles to sprinkle in through the window. She was about to straighten when the sound of several turrets whirred to life. She kept her head covered through the sound of flying bullets, a screaming deathclaw, and a sudden crash of dense bones and body matter falling to the pavement.

Then, silence.

Frieda pulled herself up to gaze out the window and saw a pile of wood, newly dislodged from the clinic, laying on the ground. "Shit," she breathed. She looked up and around the courtyard to see an unknown woman pulling Brandy out and away from the aftermath.

"Well! Those turrets sure did the trick, eh?" Barney barked, sounding satisfied with himself, standing near the dead matriarch and looking around.

Frieda's gaze snapped towards him and gave him a glare. "We are talking about this later," she yelled at him. “You should at least tell your own damn militia you’ve got turrets, you jackass!”

Barney puffed on a cigarette and was poised to retort when he was overruled by a terrified shriek coming from the diner. She rolled her eyes. She turned back to the dislodged pile of debris and nearly jumped out of her skin as a body emerged. It was Ace.

“You scared the shit out of me!” she grumbled, stomping her foot to the ground. Ace paid her no mind and immediately took off to confront the mutant in armour. Frieda’s heart rate jumped as she wanted nothing more than to do the same thing. She trembled but decided to stay with the clinic. That was her real job, after all.

“Keep an eye on that,” she gestured to Barney.

Barney responded with a gesture of his own.

She grit her teeth and dashed back into the clinic. The ghoul was still bleeding out. Frieda dashed to the back of the clinic and pounded on the storage room door. “Doc! It’s all clear out here.”

Frieda turned around just in time to see the mutant in the armour enter carrying Steve in his arms. She froze, watching the scene unfold, as the mutant placed Steve down on an open cot next to Summer, then kneel next to the ghoul. She tilted her head to the side, completely amazed at the scene before her. I was so sure that ghoul was passed right out. Clearly, he and the mutant were having a conversation. Just as quickly as he’d come in, the mutant picked up the ghoul and left the clinic.

Frieda clenched her fists. “Thanks for visiting! Have a fantabulous-fucking day!” she cried after them. She wasn’t sure if it were the Study Buddy, her lack of actual sleep, her weird day, or just any combination of the above that had pushed her over the edge. She looked apologetically at the doc and cleared her throat.

“Sorry, I just…” Frieda blushed, again. “Sorry.” She looked around for her discarded sweatshirt and plucked it up from the floor, immediately pulling off her soiled t-shirt and pulling on the fleece. She turned back to the doc. “Well, that’s a little better, hm? Can I help you with anything?”

[Crimson Paladin]

Inquisitor Carver- Crater House

"Inquisitor," an Acolyte spoke, interrupting before Abraham could reply to Carver's queries. "We have a visitor, another of Atom's faithful," he continued, gesturing to a figure beside him- a hunched, hooded figure. "He has asked to see our congregation's confessor...as you are the closest thing we have to a Confessor, I thought to bring him to you."

"I apologize, Abraham, but I must handle this matter," Carver spoke, politely ending his previous conversation. He walked up to the hooded figure, unsure of what to make of him. The visitor was clearly altered by Atom's light, possibly ghoulified, but Carver had never seen a ghoul that carried itself like the being that now stood before him. The hunched, bandaged figure leaned upon what appeared to be a massive flail, and carried on his waist many bottles of liquid, glowing with Atom's light. Beneath his hood, his face was covered in bandages, and his eyes glowed not unlike that of the most Glow-imbued ghouls. A most strange fellow, unlike any I have ever seen before. As Inquisitor, it was his duty to scrutinize him, to ensure that this new arrival was not a threat to the word of Atom.

"What is your name, visitor? Where are you come from? And why have you come to this congregation?" Ian asked, stooping down to look the figure in the eyes.

[Andronicus23]

Dr. Arthur West - Salem Clinic

With the fighting seemingly done, Arthur crawled out from the storage space he'd been taking cover in and examined the damage. The Deathclaw had finally been killed and he was surprised to find a mutant now standing in his clinic holding an unconscious Steve. He froze for a brief moment when he saw the hulking green humanoid but quickly regained himself.

Another non-aggressive mutant? He thought to himself. No wait...

Unlike the previous mutant he'd come across in Salem, Rook he believed was his name, this was was different. It wasn't one of his. This mutant must have been created with a different strain of FEV. The physiological characteristic were all distinct from Commonwealth mutants that had been created by Bioscience. Perhaps to the untrained eye the mutants might look the same, but there were indeed visible differences.

He continued watching the mutant as the lumbering mass of muscle picked up the ghoul, evidently having been his companion, and then just simply walked out. Arthur stood gawking out the door for a couple minutes, the wheels in his head turning rapidly thinking up new theories as to where the mutant might have originated from, when his thoughts were interrupted by Frieda,

“Thanks for visiting! Have a fantabulous-fucking day!” She called out. Arthur looked over to her with a puzzled expression.

“Sorry, I just…” Frieda blushed, again. “Sorry.”

"Its quite alright," He said, "Its been.....well I was going to say 'stressful', but doesn't really cover today's events very well....I err....Frieda?" He realized Frieda had begun changing her shirt and immediately looked away with a slightly reddened face.

“Well, that’s a little better, hm?" She said finally, "Can I help you with anything?”

Arthur opened one of his eyes tentatively, before opening the other. He re-composed himself and adjusted his glasses,

"Uh, well yes actually," He said, clearing his throat, "I don't suppose you'd be willing to go out and see who might need medical attention? And help them to the clinic if they need assistance of course. I'll begin treating Steve as best I can and then start on anyone else who might need help. Afterwards I'd like to have a good look at one or all of those Deathclaws...if possible..." He pondered aloud, "I've just...well...I've never seen one before...in the flesh that is.."

Hooded Figure - Crater House

"What is your name, visitor? Where are you come from? And why have you come to this congregation?"

"I'm a humble servant of our lord, just as you are holy Inquisitor," The hooded man replied. He turned his ragged head and looked up at Ian with glowing eyes, "I'm a wandering holy man to some: a demon to others. The truth is I simply serve the will of Atom, preach to those who would listen, and chastise those who might offend. I've gone by a number of different names in my long years, but you may call me Zhelk if you wish."

Zhelk got up from his seat and stood before the Inquisitor, leaning on his staff for support. Hunched and malformed, he was an embodiment of decay and a conduit for the glow. Even as he stood there, radiation quite literally emitted from him, and especially from the spiked censer attached to his staff.

"I've come here because Atom has led me here. He has shown me visions of a town in need of Atom's guidance. Of an ancient darkness that lurks among the unwitting and a fell shadow that threatens to engulf them all should it be allowed to. We must lead the people of Salem to Atom's holy glow brother, and thereby save them from the evil that dwells among them."

Zhelk began pacing back and forth, his censer swinging ominously as he did so, and the room itself seemed to glow brighter with radioactivity,

"Yes, it us up to us. Don't you see?" He muttered, "Atom's chosen. Atom's children. The glow must pierce the dark and thereby shine through to the outer void. The void beyond the stars...yes...yes.."

The tone of his voice became quickened, almost frantic,

"The great enemy has revealed itself. The great deceiver...that eldritch abomination and the hated foe of our Lord! Ug-Qualtoth!"

After uttering the name, Zhelk smashed his staff hard against the floor, and a great wave of radiation burst from him, illuminating the entire house like a beacon. Afterwards, Zhelk breathed heavily and calmed himself. He leaned against his staff as if clutching it for dear life.

"Forgive me," He said, "But Atom's words come through me like a tempest sometimes. Its difficult to control: a curse in many ways. I would very much like to visit Salem soon brother. We must do Atom's will. Convert those willing to listen and watch for the right signs. Will you join me in this? You and all in this congregation?"

[Lewis251]

Steve cooper- ????-????

Striking the creature in the back of neck and causing it the bleed the deathclaw mother threw let out an angry loud roar before swinging its powerful plated tail in Steve’s direction...

Oh fuck....

------

Steve awoke.... he was no longer in the diner but resting in a rather comfortable metal bed. Looking around the room it became apparent he was in Doctor Holmes talon company clinic which had been set up on the 3rd floor of an old per-war hospital in downtown DC.

Noticing Steve had awoken Doctor Holmes approached his bed “The mission was a success.... Now rest up and you’ll be back on feet in a few days.”

Boom!

There an explosion outside followed gunfire which became louder and louder before the clinic’s doors where punched open and sent flying into Doctor Holmes. Turning back to the doorway Steve watched as three power armoured brotherhood troopers entered the room, the leader pointed at Steve and almost screamed “kill.” in a deeply muffled voice...

Terrified and not wanting to die without a fight Steve sat up, drawing his 50. Pistol and began firing at the brotherhood soldiers “fucking die tin-can mothefuckers...”

Bang, bang, bang, bang, Bang, Bang

“STEVE!”

Suddenly Steve was no longer in Doctor Holmes’s clinic but Salem church, sitting up on one of doctor west’s cot beds with his (emptied) 50 Pistol in his right hand and several new bullet holes in the old church’s wall.

Collapsing back onto the cot bed Steve dropped his pistol on the floor and looked at the deathclaw slash wound on his chest “Sorry doctor I though the brotherhood..... never mind, it was just a Bad Dream”

[SkrtWithAWeapon]

FRIEDA RICHTER -- Salem clinic - noon

"Uh, well yes actually," Arthur replied, clearing his throat, "I don't suppose you'd be willing to go out and see who might need medical attention? And help them to the clinic if they need assistance of course. I'll begin treating Steve as best I can and then start on anyone else who might need help. Afterwards I'd like to have a good look at one or all of those Deathclaws...if possible..." He pondered aloud, "I've just...well...I've never seen one before...in the flesh that is.."

He seemed uncomfortable. Frieda figured it was a little bit of latent shock from the attack. "Sure, I'll take a quick jaunt through town. It's your lucky day about a deathclaw, though." She pointed to the destroyed back door and the corpse of the beast splayed through it. "Literally left at your door!" Frieda watched his reaction. "I'll...try to rein in my sense of humour." She checked the cell on her pistol, then went back out the front door. Her eyes settled on the diner. Seemed as good a time as any to find out what that scream was all about.

Frieda walked into the diner and glanced around at the mess, which included a dead deathclaw. Celeste was perched on a bar stool next to Rick, pale as paper, clutching a mug of coffee that did little more than just steam her face. Betty was unenthusiastically sweeping up. "Everyone all right, in here? I can escort you to the clinic."

Betty shrugged, while Celeste nodded, wordlessly. "Uh, okay." Frieda tapped her hands on her thighs. "Oh, has anyone seen Brandy?"

"Nope, and that hair-pasting snivelling little bitch better not make herself seen around here, anytime soon!" Betty rattled off, dramatically slamming the contents of her dustpan into a trash bin.

"...what?"

Celeste locked eyes with Frieda and gave her head a short shake. Frieda rolled her eyes. Catty drama was something she never, ever had time for. "Well, if any of you find an injury or something you want to get checked out, feel free to come by the clinic."

Frieda stepped back into the town square and held her nose as she stood over the dead deathclaw matriarch. The mutants always smelled the worst -- they seemed less disciplined than barn animals, living in their own filth -- and its bodily fluids and guts seeping out into the sunlight reeked something awful. She toed it, before stepping past. "Brandy?" she called, repeatedly, as she walked around the debris. The dust had nearly settled, stirred up by the frenzy of the turrets. "Brandy! Where are you? It's safe, now. Are you hurt?"

Frieda looked around, her brow furrowed in a frown. "Has anyone seen Brandy?"

"Didya try her house?" Barney piped up, leaning against the fence line of his own. "Seems like a logical place to go, after somethin' like that."

"Last I saw, she was burning the rubber of her soles getting away from that," Frieda pointed at the matriarch corpse. "I just wanted to make sure she wasn't laid up out here with a broken leg, or something."

Barney grunted. "I took a quick sweep and didn't see nothin'. I'll walk through again on my way to the diner, but really, go check her house, or with her boyfriend. Use yer head."

Frieda bit the inside of her cheek as hard as possible to refrain from replying. She marched off, around the back of the clinic, and towards the house. Sure enough, the front door was sitting wide open. "Brandy!" Frieda hollered from the porch. "Brandy, are you in here, somewhere? I'm coming in -- it's Frieda," she added, just in case. She stepped across the threshold and looked around.

"Brandy, the deathclaws are all gone, now. Everything's okay, out there. I just want to see if you're all right. I can take you to the clinic, if you need some help." Frieda slowly made her way up the stairs. "Are you up here?" She looked into both bedrooms but Brandy couldn't be seen. She paused, then knelt and looked under the bed. Nothing but dustbunnies.

Frieda began to feel upset. She'd only known the girl for a couple of days, but the thought that she was bleeding out somewhere like an injured cat made her scared. "Brandy, if you're here, can you answer me?" She found herself standing in the kitchen. "We're worried about you, we just want to help. Me, and Waylon, and...and, uh...Shelby!"

Maybe she really isn't here. Frieda frowned deeper, drumming her fingers on the kitchen countertop. She took a deep breath, calming herself in an attempt to figure out where else her friend could be.

[f8lcobra]

Brandy Brooks – Here house

Brandy just gently rocked back and forth on the crate, they're real, they're really real. The baby chicks caught her attention briefly as it gorged itself, “They're real,” she whispered to the baby chicks. She stared at the kitchen knife in her hand, briefly placing it on her wrist contemplating. No, then I won't ever see Nana and Papa again. Her throat had become sore from all the screaming she had done, her voice was still absent.

She looked down at her bloodied and soiled khakis. The burning on her left shoulder was worsening, fresh blood still shined in the light. She could feel a warm trickle down her back from where her backpack once rode. She was becoming dizzy and thought that she heard something or someone upstairs in the kitchen. Brandy grit her teeth in pain as she slowly stood back up and gained her balance. She blinked to focus but nothing was very clear and her legs were extremely heavy feeling. Shuffling to take a step her head spun.

"Brandy, if you're here, can you answer me? We're worried about you, we just want to help. Me, and Waylon, and...and, uh...Shelby!"

Brandy gasped, she recognized Frieda’s voice, “I'M DOWN HERE!” She tried to yell, but her voice didn't even scare the baby chicks. She threw the kitchen knife in an attempt to make some noise, it clattered on the cement floor. Her breathing picked up, making her dizziness worse and tears began to flow again, “FRIEDA!”

Nothing, a slight breeze was louder than her voice. She pressed her lips together and let go of the one set of shelves she was using to balance with and stepped towards the stairs. She fell, knocking over her second set of shelving making a horrendous noise. When she fell she hit her hand and groaned, balling up into the fetal position and cried. In between her sobs she could hear footsteps. She looked at the stairs and saw Frieda, her face reddened and wet with tears, “They're real. Frieda, they're real.” Her eyes rolled back as she fought to stay focused, she just layed her head down and sobbed. Brandy suddenly picked her head up and looked at Frieda again, "Oh no , Frieda, do you see a little tube?"

[SkrtWithAWeapon]

FRIEDA RICHTER - Brandy's house -- early afternoon

Frieda shifted her weight from foot to foot, wondering where else she could look for the younger woman. A thunderous crash sounded from below.

Of course. The basement.

Frieda flung the door open and was halfway down the steps when her eyes fixed upon Brandy, splayed out on the floor, but thankfully not beneath the shelf. "Jesus!" she swore, looking at the magnificent mess everywhere. The chicks merely peeped and pecked at their sudden feast. Brandy's face was splotchy from extended crying and there was a large blood stain all around her shoulder. She moved her mouth but no words came out.

"Hang on, take it easy." Frieda swiftly came down the final few stairs, managed to tiptoe her way all around the chicks, and knelt next to Brandy.

"...real. Frieda, they're real," Brandy's voice was a scratchy, breathy, toneless sound. Her eyes rolled back, causing Frieda to yelp and reach forward to try and catch Brandy's head before it smacked on the concrete floor. Suddenly her head popped back up, and she continued to try and talk though her voice was long spent. "Oh no, Frieda, do you see a little tube?"

Panic briefly crossed Frieda's face, but she blinked it off. "All I see right now is my friend who is in bad shape. I'm taking you to the clinic so the doctor can look at your shoulder, okay? Whatever it is, we'll find it, but you need some help." She squat, pulled Brandy's arm attached to the non-injured shoulder over her own, then wrapped her other arm around Brandy's back and lifted her up. Frieda nearly lost her balance, having braced herself for the effort, but lifted Brandy easily.

"Shoo, now, shoo! Out of the way! Watch your tails!" Frieda called down to the fluffballs scurrying around, eating as much as they possibly could. "Enjoy it while you can, I'll be back to clean all this up, and then I bet you're all going to have a long nap."

Frieda took a breath, holding Brandy firmly. "I'll try to be gentle, but stairs are a little jarring, no matter what. Here we go." Frieda half pulled, half carried her friend up the stairs and into the kitchen. She had worked up a sweat that was dripping off her face by the time she made it to the clinic. Brandy seemed to be on the cusp of losing full consciousness. Her legs occasionally made step motions, but try as she might, Frieda couldn't help dragging her a little bit. Her eyes flicked around the clinic. She elected to tuck her friend as far from Steve as possible. Frieda unhooked Brandy's arm from around her back.

"Here, Brandy, lie down here. The doc will be right with you," Frieda tried to sound as soothing as possible. Her friend looked very pale, and had begun to shiver. "Shock...it's shock," she muttered out loud, before looking around and spotting the pile of blankets she had folded herself just the day before. She grabbed one and threw it over Brandy.

"Her shoulder's bloodied up, I didn't really look at it," Frieda said to Arthur. "I found her in her basement. She was hiding, maybe? I honestly don't know. She had knocked down both shelves, whole place is a mess."

She looked at Brandy, contemplating whether she should tell Arthur that the younger woman had asked about the growth serum, but decided against it. Frieda took a shuddered breath. "She'll be okay, though, right? It's just a...like, a flesh wound?"

[Crimson Paladin]

Inquisitor Carver- Crater House

The Inquisitor wasn't sure of what to make of this. This seemingly wretched mutant was steeped in Atom's light, His power emanating from the being's frail-looking body. Carver knew of ghouls that possessed this degree of Atom's power, but they were pitiable wretches, imperfect vessels whose minds had been burned out, unable to withstand becoming conduits of His light. But this Zheik was different- while his physical form had clearly suffered from becoming imbued with Atom's glow, his words were those of an enlightened mind. He didn't just understand Atom, he channeled it.

"Come with me, Zheik, we need to speak in private," he beckoned the mutant. He did not wish to speak further of his investigation where the flock could overhear, and did not wish to alarm or worry them with what Zheik was saying. The Inquisitor led the two of them away from the crater house to the west, until they came to the shore.

"It should be safe to talk here," he said. "I am afraid you have come here during a trying time- I believe this congregation may have been led astray. There have been rumors circulating of unprovoked attacks perpetuated by Atom's faithful in this corner of the wasteland. I only recently arrived and have had little time to gather information as to how serious the situation is and how widespread this erroneous doctrine is. Aside from Brother Abraham, I do not yet know whom among this flock I can trust."

"As you are not part of this congregation, and none of the troubling rumors spoke of anyone as peculiar as yourself. I can speak to you plainly. Whatever threats we face, we must first scour the inward vessel of corruption. I need your help to lead the congregation back onto the true path of Atom. And I need someone whom I can trust to have my back when I investigate the truth of this matter."

[SkrtWithAWeapon]

CELESTE BROWN - Salem diner -- mid morning to noon

It felt like she had been screaming for hours, but really, it had to only be a few moments. Rick entered the diner, immediately looked down at Steve's form, and motioned for her to quiet down. Celeste sniffed and stood back, watching Rick approach the body.

Rick looked around and grabbed a piece of broken glass and placed it by Steve's mouth and nose. He watched it fog up, telling him he was still alive. He looked over at Celeste, “we need a plank or something to move him, don’t want to pick him up in case he broke anything."

Celeste's mouth opened and shut like a hooked fish. Suddenly, an armour-clad super mutant burst into the diner, perhaps drawn by her screams. She swallowed hard but her throat was dry. The mutant grunted, pushed Rick over completely, lifted Steve, and left the diner as quick as he'd come in.

"Oh my god, oh my god! What is he doing with Steve? Where is he going?! W-what --"

She cut herself off as she watched the mutant walk into the clinic with Steve. Baffled, she rubbed her eyes, but the mutant could no longer be seen.

"This day sure has become...unreal," she said aloud. Her entire body began to tremble. Celeste braced herself against the counter, then sat up onto the stool. Betty plunked a cup of coffee in front of her, before retrieving a broom and dustpan and puttering around the diner.

"Do ya think those kinds of things are gonna be common, around here?" Celeste posed aloud.

"The deathclaws?" Betty replied.

"Right. And the raiders."

Betty pushed a pile of debris into her dustpan and gave Celeste an odd smirk. "Have you been living under a rock this whole time? Where are ya from there weren't weird creatures and raiders??"

"Under a rock? No, who could live like that?"

Frieda came into the diner and recoiled at the mess, and the dead deathclaw. "Everyone all right, in here? I can escort you to the clinic."

Betty shrugged, while Celeste nodded, wordlessly. "Uh, okay." Frieda tapped her hands on her thighs. "Oh, has anyone seen Brandy?"

"Nope, and that hair-pasting snivelling little bitch better not make herself seen around here, anytime soon!" Betty rattled off, dramatically slamming the contents of her dustpan into a trash bin.

"...what?"

Celeste locked eyes with Frieda and gave her head a short shake. Betty needed to focus on getting the diner back to useable shape rather than getting upset about Brandy's prank all over again. Frieda seemed annoyed.

"Well, if any of you find an injury or something you want to get checked out, feel free to come by the clinic."

"Sure thing," Celeste replied, and watched the blonde retreat. She looked over at Betty and managed to find some caps in her pocket. She placed them onto the counter. "I should be getting back. I had a guest at the inn and I hope she is okay."

"Whatever you gotta do," Betty replied casually, snapping the caps off the counter.

Celeste emerged from the diner into the sunlight of the early afternoon. A woman she didn't recognize was sauntering down the road towards the center of town, a huge grin on her face and carrying an assortment of tools and other equipment. She briefly considered asking her where she was going and what she was doing, but decided she should really just get back to the inn.

"Manager Celeste!" Archie called to her when she was at the head of the road. "Do take care, it appears that one still has some life left in it."

"Who?" she asked, just as the maimed deathclaw scraped itself around to face her. It let out a string of angry sounds, though they sounded a little tired, as well. "Jeepers! Huh-how am I supposed to get over there?!"

"No need to worry, manager, it's missing most of one of its legs, and apparently, quite a bit of blood, too. How it's still alive is quite mind boggling, wouldn't you say?"

"ARCHIE!"

"I assure you, there is no cause for alarm."

Celeste clasped her hands over her chest, her eyes wide, her heart beating fast. As she stared, the deathclaw did appear to be running out of gas. It had resolved itself to simply glowering at her. Something inside her gave her speed, and she whipped past it, then Archie, then burst into the doors, huffing and puffing.

[f8lcobra]

Shelby Jackson - Slaughtering in Salem

After the chaos had ceased, Shelby pressed her tongue to her cheek. She looked at Waylon, “We can use their skin to reinforce our armor. Lets drag the small ones to the shop so I can dress them out.” She knelt down to grab the arms of the small deathclaw that had attacked Waylon when she heard a robot and woman talking. She dropped the arm of the deathclaw and readied her AK47 as she turned the corner. She stopped and grinned, pushing her rifle into Waylon's hand, “Hold my gun and watch this.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Just watch,” Shelby replied as she twirled her staff in her hands. “You may want to step back.” She told the short woman and the robot, “This one is mine.”

The injured baby deathclaw growled as it hobbled around watching Shelby come closer. She spun and thwacked it across its face and spun the opposite way and cracked her staff right in top of its head. The deathclaw snarled and lunged forward but was hindered by its missing leg. Shelby giggled and twirled her staff again, pressing and locking the button that shit blades out of each end of her staff, clicking as they locked out.

“You wanna play little guy?” She mocked the injured creature, jabbing her staff towards it making it swipe at the staff. Shelby began to spin her staff and faked right, turning on her heal to her left and sunk the blade of her staff deep into the creature's good thigh. It howled out in pain and tried attacking, Shelby easily danced out of its way. “Ring around the rosie,” She sang and she quickly spun and dug her blade into the creature's foot bringing another cry of pain.

“What's the matter?” she pouted and cocked her head, picking on the creature. She kneeled down as the baby deathclaw grit its teeth and came for her. With a rapid jab that made her grunt, Shelby shoved her blade into the creature's chest making it throw out its arms as blood dribbled from its mouth. Giving up, the baby deathclaw slumped onto her staff, the staff propping up the small beast. The deathclaw panted trying to catch its ever escaping breath, each time it was deeper as life began to leave it. Shelby unsheathed her kukri and provocatively ran her tongue on the side of the blade. She stalked around the dying creature, “Ya know, I'm gonna need that back.”

Shelby slashed the creature on each arm and took a chop at it's damaged leg before spinning and landing a heel kick to its chest knocking it back. The creature stumbled backwards and began to fall, Shelby yanked her staff from the creature's chest, it backwards momentum in her favor allowing her blade to become free once more. The baby deathclaw lay on the ground gurgling on its own blood, she toed at it.

“JESUS CHRIST SHELBY,” Waylin cursed as he walked up and put a .45 round into its head to end the misery.

Shelby turned around and frowned at Waylon, “What the fuck is your problem?” She licked blood from her staff blade and smiled with reddened teeth, “Can't a girl have a little fun?”

“I think we have more important things to do right now than play cat and mouse.”

Shelby furrowed her brow, “Like what? Whatever ,” she scoffed, unlocking her blades on the staff of retreating them back inside. She pushed Waylon aside and started to drag the baby deathclaw back to S&W.

[2sky11]

Ace Makovich - Salem

Ace stood there as he watched the mutant get up and for the most part ignore him, aside from some snarky remark on his condition. However, the creature was right, Ace didn't feel like fighting nor doing anything for that matter. He was physically exhausted, most likely his body masking the pain.

He clutched at his stomach, where he had been struck by the deathclaws tail. He looked down, and he was slightly bleeding. He took a few steps back and leaned against the wall of the church and slid down, sitting on the ground. The Deathclaws razor sharp tail had slashed his stomach. It wasnt a deep gash, he had lucked out at least.

He leaned his head against the side of the building. and just stared out into the sky and let time slip by. He should make his way inside the clinic but he didn't have the energy to get up. Everyon in town seemed to be busy moving and running around at a quick pace. Soon he saw Frieda coming to the clinic carrying Brandy in her arms.

Ace struggled to get up,but managed to get a hold of a piece of wood and managed to get on his feet. He clutched his stomach in pain, it seemed to burn. He was now starting to feel the pain. His mody was no longer masking the pain. He slowly shuffled as he ran a hand along the wall, making his way inside the clinic.

He slowly made his way over to where Frieda had placed Brandy and looked at her. "How are you Brandy, are you okay? please tell me you're alright." He looked her over and saw how she was bleeding. His one arm was still clutching his stomach, but he didn't care. He looked at Doctor Arthur, "Oh my god... hey doc, is she going to be alirght?"

[Andronicus23]

Dr. Arthur West - Salem Church

Arthur was started by the sound of the gunshots and very nearly dropped the tray of medical supplies he was carrying when Steve had shot up about of his unconscious state, apparently delirious and potentially hallucinating,

“Sorry doctor I though the brotherhood..... never mind, it was just a Bad Dream.”

Arthur rushed over to his beside and yanked the gun out of his hand. He popped the clip out and threw the gun off to the side,

"That's quite enough of that," He said gruffly, "Good lord you might have shot me..."

Arthur didn't have much time to contemplate too long on the fact that the man had apparently been imagining shooting Brotherhood soldiers, before Frieda came back carrying a wounded Brandy. The woman looked to be in a state of shock and had clearly suffered an attack from one of the deathclaw creatures,
"Her shoulder's bloodied up, I didn't really look at it," Frieda said to Arthur. "I found her in her basement. She was hiding, maybe? I honestly don't know. She had knocked down both shelves, whole place is a mess."

He bent down to examine her, using his fingers to gently pry open her eyelids to examine her dilated pupils. As Frieda had pointed out, she had indeed gone into shock. Likely caused by both the stress of her encounter as well as the loss of blood.

"Brandy? Its Dr. West...can you hear me?" Arthur asked. He reached for a small pocket light he had and pointed it to her eyes. He needed to check if perhaps the creature had bashed her head or if she'd fallen in the course of trying to escape from it.

Frieda took a shuddered breath. "She'll be okay, though, right? It's just a...like, a flesh wound?"

"Its a nasty gash she got from that creature...but yes, she should be fine with proper treatment. I'll need to clean and examine her wound better as quickly as possible."

Arthur quickly walked over and washed his hands thoroughly before throwing on a pair of latex gloves and grabbing some supplies including a long roll of bandages and antiseptic.

Just then, Ace entered the Clinic as well, limping slowly and looking haggard and in pain,
"Oh my god... hey doc, is she going to be alirght?"

Arthur took a glance down and saw blood running down Ace's arm. At first he thought perhaps his hand or wrist had been cut, but then quickly understood that Ace was clutching a wound on his stomach,

"She'll be okay," he replied slowly and calmly, "But uh...why don't you have a seat over there Ace? Take it easy..." He walked over and helped him over to one of the Clinic's chairs.

"Frieda, can you start treating Brandy? She may need a shot of Med-X to start...I need to take a look at Ace first and then I'll be right there."

With a concerned face, Arthur then walked over to the wounded Ace. Gashes and cuts to the upper-body were one thing....but if Ace had taken a deep cut to his stomach he could potentially have organ damage. For all he knew...Ace was clutching his intestines right then and there. A man in shock could have walked that far on adrenaline alone.

Upon closer examination, he breathed a sigh of relief when the cut wasn't nearly as bad as he'd feared,

"You'll be fine Ace," He said, as he grabbed a nearby clean cloth and handed it to Ace, "You might need stitches but it didn't cut deep. Go ahead and use that to put pressure on the bleeding for now and I'll be right back. I need to take another look at Brandy...and...do you know if anyone else is hurt out there?"

Zhelk - Outside Crater House

Zhelk leaned on his staff for support as he considered the Inquisitor's words. He closed his eyes and gave a deep sigh,

"An unfortunate situation indeed if the Children of Atom attack the innocent without due cause. Only when we are provoked should violence be met with violence...but tell me brother, what proof do you have of these accusations? Who makes these claims, serious as they are? You must know as well as I that those not of our faith are often quick to condemn it...to shun us and even kill Brothers and Sisters without provocation...simply because we do the work of Atom. They fear what they do not understand...and they do not understand that it is only by supplication to The Glow that they might find salvation from this world..."

The deformed monk lifted up a gnarled hand. Radioactive energy coursed through him and a small ball of holy green light emanated outwards, illuminating a small swathe of the landscape around them.

"I would urge caution Inquisitor. We should not be so hasty in the persecution of our own. That said, if you are correct, and members of this congregation have been engaging in such unlawful acts...even against non-believers....then we should purge their heresy immediately. Their slanderous acts should offend any Child of Atom....for how might we preach Atom's words if we cannot speak to those who need to hear it most?"

[SkrtWithAWeapon]

FRIEDA RICHTER -- Salem clinic - early afternoon

"Its a nasty gash she got from that creature...but yes, she should be fine with proper treatment. I'll need to clean and examine her wound better as quickly as possible." Arthur's voice was level and professional. It was one of the most comforting sounds Frieda could ever hear. He turned to scrub up and grab some supplies.

Frieda leaned over Brandy, watching her chest rise and fall shallowly. "Doc's going to get you fixed up, just hang in there."

A figure drew up to Frieda. She turned to say something to the doc but instead was met with the image of Ace, clutching his midsection and looking worse for wear. She jumped. "You gotta stop doing that to me, Ace, or some day I'm going to shoot you."

In his daze and shock, Ace didn't seem to hear her. "Oh my god... hey doc, is she going to be alirght?"

Arthur took a once-over Ace, paused very briefly, then replied. "She'll be okay," he replied slowly and calmly, "But uh...why don't you have a seat over there Ace? Take it easy..." He walked over and helped him over to one of the Clinic's chairs.

"Frieda, can you start treating Brandy? She may need a shot of Med-X to start...I need to take a look at Ace first and then I'll be right there."

Frieda sniffed and wiped her nose on the back of her sleeve. "Sure, of course." She knelt down and retrieved the chem from the small stockpile of supplies that Arthur had gathered next to Brandy's cot. She pulled the blanket back then jammed the needle into Brandy's thigh, through her pantleg. Frieda watched Brandy's reaction, which was first to tense, then relax. She dabbed some sweat off her friend's brow.

Frieda stepped back to let the doctor do his good work. She glanced around the clinic for an immediate task but saw none. Movement out the window and down the street caught her eye. It was Waylon and the woman who helped her from beneath the deathclaw, coming from the direction of the inn, and dragging...a deathclaw. Frieda's stomach dropped at the scene, but she swallowed it down.

"Hey, there's Brandy's friends. They might want to know she's been hurt, but she's okay. I'll be right back." Frieda stepped out of the clinic then jogged towards Waylon and the woman, waving them down.

"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." She turned to the woman dragging the deathclaw and briefly hesitated offering her hand, then realized she had dirt and some of Brandy's dried blood on it, anyway. "I didn't really get to thank you, back there. I'm Frieda...Richter. Frieda Richter." She cleared her throat, feeling overwhelmingly awkward.

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

You're embarrassing yourself, stop embarrassing yourself...!

Frieda clapped her hands together. "Okay! See you folks around." She turned on her heel and galloped off back to the clinic, feeling like a total ass. An image of her brother popped into her mind, smirking at her. She re-entered the clinic, when her eyes locked on to the mess at the back door. That'll help.

"Let me know if you need anything. I'm going to try and clean up that mess at the back, there." Frieda approached the ruined back door and took a deep breath, wondering how or where to start. A small pile of rubble had gathered on the floor. Might as well start small. She stooped and began tossing the rubble outside.

[f8lcobra]

Brandy Brooks – Salem Clinic

"All I see right now is my friend who is in bad shape. I'm taking you to the clinic so the doctor can look at your shoulder, okay? Whatever it is, we'll find it, but you need some help." Frieda squat, pulled Brandy's right arm up and around her shoulder, then wrapped her other arm around Brandy's back and lifted her up. Frieda nearly lost her balance, having braced herself for the effort, but lifted Brandy easily.

Brandy was starting to have a difficult time holding up her head, “It hurts.”

Frieda took a breath, holding Brandy firmly. "I'll try to be gentle, but stairs are a little jarring, no matter what. Here we go." Frieda half pulled, half carried her friend up the stairs and into the kitchen, Brandy grimaced in pain. She closed her eyes as tight as she could so she wouldn't see the dead deathclaw. Her heart skipped a beat as vision of the ferocious beast chasing her vividly flashed in her mind causing her to quickly open her eyes as they entered the clinic.

"Here, Brandy, lie down here. The doc will be right with you," Frieda aided Brandy down on the cot as she began to shiver and lose color. "Shock...it's shock," Frieda muttered out loud, before covering Brandy with a blanket.

Everything was a blur now as Brandy looked around, her body felt especially weak. Another figure appeared, followed by a touch around her eyes.

"Brandy? It's Dr. West...can you hear me?" Arthur asked as he looked at her with a light.

Brandy reached up and touched Arthur's hand, “They're real,” she whispered and choked up more tears, “They're real.”

"Her shoulder's bloodied up, I didn't really look at it," Frieda said to Arthur. "I found her in her basement. She was hiding, maybe? I honestly don't know. She had knocked down both shelves, whole place is a mess. She'll be okay, though, right? It's just a...like, a flesh wound?"

"It's a nasty gash she got from that creature...but yes, she should be fine with proper treatment. I'll need to clean and examine her wound better as quickly as possible." Arthur quickly explained before gathering some supplies.

Ace then rushed to her side, “How are you Brandy, are you okay? please tell me you're alright." He looked her over and saw how she was bleeding, "Oh my god... hey doc, is she going to be alright?"

Tears fell down the side of her head, she swallowed hard, her throat was sore, “They're real Ace.” She winced and tried to tell them about her left shoulder but she just couldn't. She tried to reach up to touch Ace’s cheek but it hurt far too badly, she blinked trying to stay focused and stared up at him. Dr. Arthur told Ace to sit down, Brandy watched him do as he was told. Frieda rummaged through the supplies Arthur had gathered, treating Brandy as instructed. The pain was excruciating as she tried to mouth the words about her shoulder when Frieda jammed a shot if Med-x into Brandy's thigh. Her leg tensed up and she briefly closed her eyes to see the huge deathclaw readying for the death blow. Her eyes shot wide open and she turned to face the side of the cot and vomited, knocking over the supplies with her leg. She rolled back onto her back and grit her teeth, placing her hand on her left shoulder, “My shoulder.” Her voice cracked, still not loud, but loud enough.

[Lewis251]

Steve Cooper- Bleeding to death- Midday?

"That's quite enough of that," He said gruffly, "Good lord you might have shot me..."

“Jesus I said I was sorry.... think I might have whacked my head during the fight.” Steve replied back but before the doctor could reply Frieda came in carrying a wounded Brandy. Steve wasn’t a doctor but he’d seen get
the shit scared out of them and little twerp defiantly had that look.

Probably the first time getting attacked by an overgrown lizard.

"Her shoulder's bloodied up, I didn't really look at it," Frieda said to Arthur. "I found her in her basement. She was hiding, maybe? I honestly don't know. She had knocked down both shelves, whole place is a mess."

“Probably though the deathclaw couldn’t get her down there... she’s wrong though.” Steve replied as he noticed his chest was still bleeding. Steve attempted to adjust his position to stop the bleeding but it only caused to bleed more and hurt...

Fuck this is starting to string....

Steve looked down at his deathclaw wound; the baby claw had dug rather deep although it appeared (to Steve anyway) to have missed his important organs. However the wound was bleeding rather badly and despite Steve’s best attempts with his jacket sleeve he was unable to stop the bleeding, only causing hurt more.

Looking back up Steve saw that Frieda had left and Ace was now here, with some of chest wound judging where he was holding the blanket the doctor had given him. Frieda then re-entered the clinic and began clearing the mess at that the back door as Acey and the doctor focused on the little twerp.

I do not want to fucking dying here...

“Excuse me doctor? Could I get some FUCKING MEDICAL ATTENTION?” Steve shouted which only caused his chest wound to hurt even more...”arrgh”

should tell them about the stash
He then turned to Frieda “You...Go to the pleasure Den and find Edgar.”

“Just shut up and listen, when you find him say the word “paradise” and then tell him to get the medical drugs supplies for you...It’s in an Military medkit, small green box with an white & black cross on the front....

[ReusableSword]

Gorge The Mutant

--> Near the ocean --> Salem Clinic /// Midday

Gorge made sure every step was careful, so he wouldn’t jar his old friend around too much, the sight and smell of the sea was welcoming to both of them. Before too long he had found a quiet place to set the ghoul down at, it was quiet and it overlooked the sea. Sitting down next to his friend he passed him one of his bottles of whiskey, the ghoul didn’t hesitate to drink what was offered to him and for a moment they sat in silence.

“You should stay here for a while Gorge, I think this place would be good for you” the ghoul spoke between coughs and wheezes.

The larger mutant sighed and looked to his dying friend, “you sure that’s not you being delirious? Most places don’t like people like me around here.”

The ghoul scoffed, coughed, and then laughed, “Please they might have a funny way of saying it but people around here would probably like the extra protection.”

Gorge shifted slightly, he was a bit uncomfortable with the idea, “and if they tell me to leave I wonder where I will wander off to this time?”

“Hey, you shouldn’t be alone this time and you don’t have to be.” The ghoul coughed and took another swig, “those people looked pretty roughed up, you’re no medic but I’m sure you have been around long enough to know how to keep some pathetic smooth skins alive.”

They both laughed then sighed, “at least we had a good run old man.”

The ghoul finished off the bottle and grabbed the other one, “yeah yeah, don’t get all touchy-feely on me, but if you find those supplies we were carrying you can give it to these folk here” another pause of coughing and drinking, “now go on back to town and help them out, that way this old man can die in peace.”

The armored mutant stood and shook the ghouls hand one last time, “Good bye Harold, it was fun”

Harold only nodded, “Likewise”

Gorge looked to his friend one last time and picked up his gun leaving the mutant to enjoy his final moments alone.

-------

The walk back into town was a short one, members of the town were still rushing about doing their own things and didn't really seem too bothered by him. He walked back to the clinic where he had picked up Harold and stepped inside, making sure not to bump the door frame when he entered. He looked about the makeshift clinic and noticed the one doctor taking care of one man with a few others looking after another girl.

The mutant set his weapon down near the door, looking around once before taking off his gloves and his helmet. He was looking for a sink and some soap, lucky for him it would seem that there was a small sink with some soap nearby. Acting quickly Gorge washed his hands and walked towards the beds only to be interrupted by a man yelling about his injury.

This man was the same one he brought in earlier and this time seemed to be a bit livelier now. The mutant walked over to the man’s bed side picking up a couple fresh bandages that were laid out on a table. Gorge walked to the right side of the man’s bed and knelt down, pulling an old monocle out of one of his pockets and putting it at his right eye.

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.”

However, even after telling the man to calm down the super mutant pulled out a small but 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.”

Gorge proceeded to cut the man’s shirt off to get a better view of the injury, if the man where to struggle or try to fight he knew that with this man’s current condition there was little chance of this man overpowering him. The mutant would ignore any insult or any attempt to harm him by this human and instead concentrate on the wound. He was no doctor, what little medical knowledge he had about humans was mostly to keep them alive but not comfortable.

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. “Doctor this one is going to need stitches, and you don’t want me doing stitches.” When he turned to continue holding pressure, the mutants BOS holotags dropped out from around his neck. Gorge didn’t think much of it and continued to hold pressure on the man’s wound.

[SkrtWithAWeapon]

FRIEDA RICHTER - Salem Clinic -- early to mid afternoon

Frieda lifted a piece of ancient door frame that had fallen to pieces during the struggle that was starting to feel as though it had been weeks ago, unlike mere hours. She flung it through the door like a frisbee and watched it twirl through the air to hit the defunct streetlight across the road.

"Yes!" she cheered, lifting both her hands. Suddenly from behind her, she heard Steve begin to yell, and turned in her startle. What she saw immediately after startled her even further: the mutant that had left with the injured ghoul had returned, scrubbed up, and approached Steve wearing a monocle and carrying some clean bandages.

She froze in her place. Everything in her body screamed that she should fire on that...thing...standing in the clinic, but the smallest part saw it was attempting to assist in providing medical attention, and she couldn't justifiably intervene. Was she going to take his place? No. All she could do was watch. She swallowed on a dry throat and remained quiet.

Steve turned to Summer, who hadn't stirred through anything. “You...Go to the pleasure Den and find Edgar.”

As funny as that was, Frieda felt it would be a bit too mean to let a delirious, injured man think the comatose patient next to him was going to reply. "Hey, Steve --"

“Just shut up and listen, when you find him say the word “paradise” and then tell him to get the medical drugs supplies for you...It’s in an Military medkit, small green box with an white & black cross on the front...."

"Wow," she shook her head. "Must have hit his head pretty hard."

The mutant completely ignored the drivel coming from Steve's mouth. He looked him over and told Steve he was going to cut his shirt open and examine him. Frieda shifted to peer past the mutant's shoulder and was mostly convinced he were truly going to do Steve no harm.

I guess he is friendly enough. He did help take down that deathclaw, at least, I think, and now he's helping Steve. Frieda rolled her shoulders back and heard them pop loudly. She crossed the room to tap Arthur on the shoulder.

"Looks like I just lost my job. Well -- for a few minutes, anyways." She gestured over towards the mutant with the soft touch. "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."

She wandered into the street and noticed all the new knicks, scratches, and claw marks in the dirt and on any of the buildings the deathclaws managed to touch. Frieda rubbed her eyes and picked up her pace. She knew of the Institute, of course, but the idea they could craft such technology as to create a tiny drug to be so effective for so many consecutive hours was just...well, unbelievable, if not for the fact she were experiencing it.

Imagine if the Enclave ever got their hands on it. ...or, the Brotherhood.

But they didn't, and never will, and that's that.

Frieda crossed the threshold into Brandy's house, closed both doors behind her, and rubbed her eyes once more. She searched the kitchen briefly for a broom and dustpan, then went into the basement to get to work. A few of the chicks reacted to her presence, but for the most part, they all seemed to be in a feed coma.

"Maybe Brandy will be feeling better just in time to clean up all the turds you'll be dropping after today's buffet, eh, puffballs?" She pushed the shelves back up and replaced their contents. "Stop talking to the chickens, Frieda, it makes you sound crazy." She turned and sighed at the sight of extent of the mess. Nothing more to do than just start sweeping.