[IC] A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

[Lewis251]

Steve Cooper- Remembering...

"Oh well..." The Doc cleared his throat. "Actually...while the mutants might normally, um, prefer the taste of human meat. They certainly don't have to have it. They're quite happy with a variety of different meat types, animal or otherwise. I suspect the creature will be able to feed himself quite well given the variety of local fauna around here. 'Rad-stags' and 'Mirelurks' I think they're called, seem to be quite common around Salem."

I’m surprised a Vault doctor would know about super mutant.... don’t have them in Vaults or do they?

“Just because he may be able to feed himself doesn’t mean he’d prefer it to human flesh... “Steve commented back “or that he will be able to control himself once he gets into a Mutant rage”

Or whatever causes those mutie freaks to blow themselves up

Shortly after that Rook himself arrived, Steve for the most part kept to himself and finished his dinner...soon Hotshot would be here to shoot the mutant and he didn’t want any Mutated blood in his rather delicious lovely radstag meal.
will have to steal his recipe If I leave town

Disappointedly it seems Hotshot cigarette's graving has saved Mutie (for now) as she began to haggle with the Kěxiào girl only for the girl to foolishly give hotshot a free carton... Perhaps Kěxiào seemingly natively? from the looks of it could also be exploited by Steve?

That however was when Overcoat who had been in Mutie cheerleader contest with Kěxiào before Hotshot arrived tapped Steve on the shoulder. She whispered in his ear. "I need to speak to you in private."
"Sure, Overcoat," Steve replied as he finished off his Nuka-cola dark. "Let's head outside."

Overcoat led Steve to the outside of the diner and behind before finally stopping and turning back to address him. "I heard you last night. In the lower levels of the apartment complex." She paused and folded her arms. "I was there. That 'unicorn' you found? It belongs to the woman living there, who was not in good enough shape to reply to your hollering."

At that, Overcoat paused and pursed her lips "She is weary of strangers, so do be careful."

Steve was oddly silent for an few movement as he just processed what he had heard... before staring at Overcoat with an oddly calm look before speaking... "Let me get this straight... You left an badly injured woman, I assume alone and suffering in an Dark, smelly and cold
apartment block to have a FUCKING MILKSHAKE?" Steve shouted

“Are you fucking Moron or where you just born stupid.” Steve replied as he began walking up the down nearby an Old newspaper stand box. “this is just same as what happen to Sam “Don’t worry Honey it’s just an flesh wound” well it wasn’t she had internal bleeding and two hours later she was fucking DEAD!” Steve declared as he punched the newspaper stand box.

Usually an newspaper box could withstand an punch or two but 200 years of fallout, crabs and the foulness Barney had deposited in there last week had weaken the structure with Steve’s punch being the final blow. It didn’t even take a second before the rotten wood within the machine to begin collapsing upon itself and crashing down to the ground..

Fuck you Boston paper!

“Stay right there.” Steve seemlying outright ordered to Overcoat before slowing walked towards the diner... his eyes closes Steve attempted to calm himself down and muttered “I won’t let this one..... I won’t let this one die.”

Entering the diner Steve ignored any looks the others were giving him and calmly spoke to the Vault Doctor “Doctor, there is an Injured woman in that apartment block that I will be bring to your clinic soon... I do not know her current condition but I believe she has been shot and lost a considerable amount of blood... “

Leaving the diner Steve returned Overcoat with a look in his eyes which pretty much screamed “you are an fucking idiot” to her.
“Take me to this woman now, she needs immediate medical help.”

[Gingy]

Lorelei Jones - Behind Ace's Diner

Steve was oddly silent for an few movement as he just processed what he had heard... before staring at Overcoat with an oddly calm look before speaking... "Let me get this straight... You left an badly injured woman, I assume alone and suffering in an Dark, smelly and cold
apartment block to have a FUCKING MILKSHAKE?" Steve shouted.

Here we go.

“Are you fucking Moron or where you just born stupid.” Steve replied as he began walking up the down nearby an Old newspaper stand box. “this is just same as what happen to Sam “Don’t worry Honey it’s just an flesh wound” well it wasn’t she had internal bleeding and two hours later she was fucking DEAD!”

It's fucking disgraceful that I even involved him in this.

Leaving the diner Steve returned Overcoat with a look in his eyes which pretty much screamed “you are an fucking idiot” to her. “Take me to this woman now, she needs immediate medical help.”

Lorelei rolled her eyes and folded her arms, clearly regretting that she had revealed the truth to a man whose number of brain cells was likely countable on one hand. "You think that the real doctor wasn't the first thing I'd recommended to her? She adamantly refused to see anyone, you twat. She tried to shoot me while I was helping her."

She narrowed her eyes. "She is stable. This isn't my first rodeo. I checked her for signs of complications in the time after I bound her wounds. The good doctor would have been an infinitely better alternative, but that wasn't what she wanted, and I honored her wishes. She wanted to be left alone. I am well aware that such a thing is sub-optimal, but it is out of my control."

Lorelei looked around. "In fact, I am badly breaching her trust by letting a man like you anywhere near her. But for her to be safe from whatever caused this in the first place, folks need to know she's here. She's a stubborn one -- hiding up there alone like that -- but it has to stop. We're a community now. Which is why I'm talking to you."

She pointed toward the pink apartment structure. "You were on the right track. But she is on the third floor. You gave up too early. I'll take you there, should the good doctor be interested in tagging along. You would be worthless to her on your own."

"However...I will not take your whiny ass anywhere until you simmer down. You're only making it worse."

[f8lcobra]

Brandy Brooks – Ace’s Diner

The tall blonde blinked. "Ah -- oh. Thanks. I'm Richter," she replied, "Frieda, I mean. Frieda Richter." She took Brandy's offered hand and shook it, “Are you sure?” Brandy smiled politely so Frieda knew she was serious, “You’re a lifesaver, Brandy.”

Brandy watch Frieda quickly exit the diner and rummaging through her pockets for something to light a cigarette. Barney cleared his throat, “Yeah...Umm...that should be more than enough…”

“Oh thank you Barney,” she went to address Ace but he was already heading down to the cellar. Lorelei had left with Steve, another new face in town. Brandy watched with curiosity until a thud broke her stare.

“Here’s some radstag, hope it’s enough for you… I also have some molerat, if you like.” Ace said to Rook as he placed the meat on a table close to him. He turned to Brandy with a smirk, “I’m sure I could find a task or two for you to do...”

“Thank you sooo much, anything you want I’ll help with, “Brandy looked at Rook then to Ace.

Barney groaned, “Hey Romeo, another shot of whiskey over here.” Ace winked at her as he turned to grab a whiskey bottle to serve Barney.

Instantly Brandy’s cheeks felt like they were burning as she blushed, “W...I...oh n…” She quickly turned away flustered at Ace’s insinuation, which was his nature but it was still embarrassing when she didn’t get it right away.

Frieda had sat down at the bar and almost instantaneously Barney cried out, “Hey, Well if it isn’t Little Miss Trigger Happy, huh?” Frieda stared blankly at Barney, “Best you not shoot that gun in here, you’re liable to hurt someone innocent. Rook’s a bonafide payin’ customer.”

Brandy looked from Barney back to Frieda, who looked between Rook, Barney and herself, “Look, I’m not going to apologize for earlier. Anyone-” Frieda paused and looked at Brandy, “Well, most anyone would have done exactly what I did. White flag or otherwise. Besides, it was just a warning shot, too.”

Brandy furrowed her brow while looking at Frieda; she glanced at Rook then back, “What’s Barney talking about Frieda?” Barney looked at Frieda and egged her to tell with his eyes, “Di…did you shoot at Rook? Why? He had a white flag, that means he comes in peace, or in war means he surrendered.” Her mouth fell open slightly, “Why? He just wants the same thing we all do, to live as peacefully as we can and build a community.” Her heart felt like it was sinking and it was written all over her face.

[Andronicus23]

Dr. Arthur West, Salem Diner

Arthur was cautiously attempting to take another bite of the mutfruit pie when an argument flared up between two of the townspeople in the bar. From what Arthur had been able to catch, one of them was furious at another for not helping an injured person.

“Doctor, there is an Injured woman in that apartment block that I will be bring to your clinic soon... I do not know her current condition but I believe she has been shot and lost a considerable amount of blood... “

Arthur perked up when he saw the man was addressing him. He had a tiny spoonful of pie en-route to his mouth and he stopped midway to look at the man like a deer frozen in headlights. Slowly, he lowered the spoon back to the plate and spoke up,

"Uhh..oh yes...of course...," He said timidly, not exactly liking the attention he was receiving, "Although if the woman's condition is severe I should probably accompany you to make sure she's stable enough to mov..."

He was cut off as the other woman snarled back her rebuttal,
"She is stable. This isn't my first rodeo. I checked her for signs of complications in the time after I bound her wounds. The good doctor would have been an infinitely better alternative, but that wasn't what she wanted, and I honored her wishes. She wanted to be left alone. I am well aware that such a thing is sub-optimal, but it is out of my control."

"....Oh, well then I..." Arthur slowly sat back down on the stool.

"You were on the right track. But she is on the third floor. You gave up too early. I'll take you there, should the good doctor be interested in tagging along. You would be worthless to her on your own. However...I will not take your whiny ass anywhere until you simmer down. You're only making it worse.""

Arthur waited to make sure the woman had finished before he slowly got back up off the stool again. He wasn't sure if he should be standing or sitting at this point. He awkwardly cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses out of nervousness,

"So...um...should I go...grab my medical bag?"

[SkrtWithAWeapon]

FRIEDA RICHTER - Salem Diner

Brandy furrowed her brow while looking at Frieda; she glanced at Rook then back, “What’s Barney talking about Frieda?” Barney looked at Frieda and egged her to tell with his eyes, “Di…did you shoot at Rook? Why? He had a white flag, that means he comes in peace, or in war means he surrendered.”

Frieda took a breath and tried to wave Brandy down. "I shot towards him, yes -- just as a warning -- and I didn't see the white flag. Right away. Ahem." This was not going well.

Brandy's mouth fell open slightly, “Why? He just wants the same thing we all do, to live as peacefully as we can and build a community.” She looked as though she might start to cry.

Frieda watched as the man behind the bar slammed some meat onto the counter in front of Rook and felt her stomach turn.

"Ahh...y-yeah...maybe..." she stuttered, turning her focus back to the ruined bar countertop immediately in front of her. Frieda looked to her left, as though to say something to the man with the skin that was too good to be true, and instead saw Steve standing there and mumbling to him. Startled, she turned back towards Brandy. Something about the woman tugged hard on her heart strings. Brandy wasn't just playing at being sweet, she seemed to genuinely believe what she was saying. Frieda knew a couple of those types back home.

"Don't...don't be like that, all right. I..." she sighed, heavily, then looked at Rook. "I'm sorry, okay?" She waited until Brandy's back was turned before she leaned over towards Rook. "I swear to whatever is important in this world that the very second you give me a single reason to shoot at you, my aim will be true and deadly. Do you hear me?" she hissed.

"So!" she cried cheerfully at the man behind the bar. "What's a girl gotta do to get a beer around here?"

[Callyx]

Rook - Salem Diner

The offer of Radstag and Mole Rat was almost too much. He loved the flavor of both, and perhaps he would be able to get some more to trade him later for other meats later on down the road. For now, it seemed as if Brandy wanted to pay for his meats. He didn't really like that idea, but before things could be handed over, she was seemingly distracted by someone else talking about how they had shot at him.

“Rook will pay. Do not rip off Rook, but he has trouble counting some times, so take what it costs, please?” He would set the bag upon the table, it had about a hundred caps in it. “Take what it will cost for Radstag and some Mole Rat as well. Rook still has plenty of tatos and carrots still in his stew. Thank you Mr. Cooker Man.”
There was yelling and the sound of metal being hit, followed by the sound of something crumbling. Before he could get up however, the man returned to summon forth the doctor. He was curious, but he knew better to get up, at least when it came to people needing medical attention beyond himself. It usually caused too many issues when a Super Mutant wanted to aid someone.

A voice caught him, the harsh whisper of the shooter woman from before.”I swear to whatever is important in this world that the very second you give me a single reason to shoot at you, my aim will be true and deadly. Do you hear me?” She hissed at him.

“Rook is disappointed in Shooter Lady. Rook would have expected her to learn some kind of tolerance in the wastelands. Now you will be looking for a reason to just murder Rook and justify it by saying Rook was being bad. Shooter Lady is no different than the raiders in the Pitt.” He said, shaking his head, his voice low for her.

“Make sure she gets cold beer. Rook can carry things to help repair cold maker after he finishes with wall. Rook needs help on it. Rook has ideas, but not sure how to make them work. Maybe someone in town can help?” Rook asked, packing up the meat after he was done paying for it. “Children of Atom a threat to town, so sooner we build walls, better. Rook can ignore their tickle guns, but he has seen other friends die from them. Don't want to see new ones die here.”

[Lewis251]

Steve Cooper

Overcoat “Puffed up” seemlying also angry "You think that the real doctor wasn't the first thing I'd recommended to her? She adamantly refused to see anyone, you twat. She tried to shoot me while I was helping her."

“Given the blood lost. "Steve replied... fighting the urge not just to slap Overcoat and head to the apartment himself “I would say she’s delirious and likely to say and do things against her best interests”
Need to find out where she is....

Overcoat looked around. "In fact, I am badly breaching her trust by letting a man like you anywhere near her. But for her to be safe from whatever caused this in the first place, folks need to know she's here. She's a stubborn one -- hiding up there alone like that -- but it has to stop. We're a community now. Which is why I’m talking to you?"

What’s that suppose to mean? No wait... Helping the girl is more important

“Fuck her wishes she’s bloody delirious and Bullshit, sure perhaps when you first found her all you could do was help stop the bleeding and patch her up but then you went to Acey's diner, could have easily gone and fetched the doctor... No one forced you have a Milkshake.”

That’s bound to piss her off.

"But.” Steve added on ”we can deal with our personal BS later however, the injured girl comes first, now where is she?”

Overcoat turned and pointed towards the apartment block. "You were on the right track. But she is on the third floor. You gave up too early. I'll take you there, should the good doctor be interested in tagging along. You would be worthless to her on your own. However...I will not take your whiny ass anywhere until you simmer down. You're only making it worse.

"So...um...should I go...grab my medical bag?"

Steve turned to the doctor “If you could please.... Although your clinic would be more ideal it may be impossible to move her.”

Steve turned back to Overcoat “and who the hell are you calling worthless? You know nothing of what I’ve done , the battles, not some little shootout with raiders but motherfucking warzones I’ve been in.... and people" steve said pausing for a few seconds "I've seen foolishly die”

Sam..

--

Steve then may his way to the apartment block and drew his pistol “Back in DC apartment blocks like this where crawling with zombies... Fuckers where everywhere and even when you cleared the place out two weeks later you’d still be finding fucking more hiding under the floorboards.”

Poor Jenkins

Steve then turned to Overcoat “If there are any inside loudly searching all the apartments on the third floor will wake them so could you....please take us to the girl.”

[f8lcobra]

Brandy Brooks - Ace’s Diner

"Ahh...y-yeah...maybe..." Frieda stuttered, quickly looking down at the countertop immediately in front of her, she looked towards Steve then turned back towards Brandy. "Don't...don't be like that, all right. I..." she sighed, heavily, then looked at Rook. "I'm sorry, okay?"

Brandy grinned and pat the top of Frieda’s hand, “Oh good, thank you.” She was sidetracked by the new Steve guy arguing with Lorelei and watched briefly.

"So!" Frieda cried cheerfully at Ace, "What's a girl gotta do to get a beer around here?"

“Frieda, this is Ace,” Brandy reached out and tugged Ace’s shirt just above his belt, “Ace, this is Frieda.” She shut up and turned her head when Rook spoke up.

“Make sure she gets cold beer. Rook can carry things to help repair cold maker after he finishes with wall. Rook needs help on it. Rook has ideas, but not sure how to make them work. Maybe someone in town can help?” Rook asked, packing up the meat after he was done paying for it. “Children of Atom a threat to town, so sooner we build walls, better. Rook can ignore their tickle guns, but he has seen other friends die from them. Don't want to see new ones die here.”

“I...I was going to buy your stuff Rook?” Brandy sighed, “Alright, next time though I will pay for it. I will round up some help for the wall too.” Brandy spun her barstool to face Frieda again leaning in she whispered, “See? You need to look at Rook’s eyes and see him for WHO he is and not WHAT he is. I mean, it's not his fault he was born that way ya know? I'll grab you a beer.”

She jumped down and skated behind the bar and pulled out three beers and sat them on the counter, “My treat,” she twisted the caps off and slid a beer in front of Frieda, Rook, and her seat. She took the three caps and dropped them into Ace’s pocket, “There ya go.” She returned to her stool and raises her bottle, “To new friends and a new home, CHEERS !!!”

[2sky11]

Ace Makovich - Diner

Rook asked him how much for the meat, “Since Barney here, and all everyone else is claiming you’re building some sort of wall, you can have the radstag for free, as payment for your work. If you insist on paying, I’ll take 10 caps for the molerat.”

The doctor had left with the Steve fella, perhaps someone had overdosed at his “pleasure” den. Ace continued to clean the counter, when someone asked for a beer. Brandy tugged at Ace’s shirt like a child, and introduced the woman named Frieda to Ace. He grabbed an ice cold Gwinnet Stout, popped it open and handed it to her.

The Commonwealth was lucky that the Minutemen had captured the Gwinnett Brewery and handed it over to merchants. They were now providing everyone with an easily available, “fresh” product. “It’s supposed to be from the new batches being made at the brewery.” Ace said, “Thanks to the minutemen, we may start to see some semblance of normalcy.”

Ace grabbed a cigarette from under the counter and lit it. He took a seat on a stool and poured himself some whiskey. It had been a long day, but luckily it was paying off with all this business. He looked over to Tom, “Can you bring in the provisions I ordered? I’m starting lo run low on razorgrain.”

“Plenty of razorgrain available got everything you wanted from your list except Tarberries. Wiseman at The Slog, said they need a few more days before they are ready with their shipments. Need to ripen more.” Tom said as he slid over next to Frieda and extended his amr to her, “Thomas Beauregard Sykes the III, entrepreneur extraordinary, purveyor of wares far and wide. I do not believe I’ve had the pleasure of gazing upon such graceful flower before. You’re beauty surely lights up this bleak and sad wasteland.”

Brandy slipped behind the counter and took out three beers. She pooped them and placed one in front of Rook, Frieda and herself. She took the three caps and dropped them into Ace’s pocket, “There ya go.” She returned to her stool and raises her bottle, “To new friends and a new home, CHEERS !!!”

“You know brandy, you tug at my belt, put your hand in my pocket…Call me old fashioned but some guys like to be wined and dined before they get this far,” Ace said with a smirk as he sipped on his whiskey, “I’m not just a piece of meat you know.”

[Gingy]

Lorelei Jones - Behind Ace's Diner

“Given the blood lost. "Steve replied... fighting the urge not just to slap Overcoat and head to the apartment himself “I would say she’s delirious and likely to say and do things against her best interests”

“Fuck her wishes she’s bloody delirious and Bullshit, sure perhaps when you first found her all you could do was help stop the bleeding and patch her up but then you went to Acey's diner, could have easily gone and fetched the doctor... No one forced you have a Milkshake.”

Steve turned back to Overcoat “and who the hell are you calling worthless? You know nothing of what I’ve done , the battles, not some little shootout with raiders but motherfucking warzones I’ve been in.... and people" Steve said pausing for a few seconds "I've seen foolishly die”

Lorelei's steadfast expression dwindled into a slight frown. "Perhaps that is my weakness. I'm not omniscient -- I don't pretend to know what's best for people. I take their personal interests to heart and try to coexist with them." She then shrugged. "I saw enough up there to make a weak stomach hurl their entire day's worth. I needed a breather. And she wanted to be alone.

After a few moments, Lorelei slowly nodded. "You are no use to her if you're off your rocker...but you're right. I know nothing about you. I was not right to judge." She apologetically lowered her head and then looked toward the center of town. "Follow me."

Steve then made his way to the apartment block and drew his pistol “Back in DC apartment blocks like this where crawling with zombies... Fuckers where everywhere and even when you cleared the place out two weeks later you’d still be finding fucking more hiding under the floorboards.”

Lorelei grimaced. "I spent a good deal of time in the Capital Wasteland," she said as she arbitrarily scanned the different buildings. "I learned quickly to steer clear of D.C. and spend my days in the countryside."

[f8lcobra]

Shelby Jackson - Her Apartment above S&W Weaponry

Breathing heavily, Shelby ran as fast as she could, but she seemed to keep slowing instead, her legs felt like she had cinderblocks for shoes. She turned the corner and froze in her tracks as her bound parents stared up at her with tears flowing from their eyes, “Please don't, Shelby, please, we love you. We had no idea what Mr. Fussiler was doing.”

Shelby swallowed, “Yes you did,” she choked out just like she did when she was 15 years old.

"Prove you are indeed worthy of such a request" Calypso said, handing Shelby the staff regarding the young woman's plea to join Calypso.

Like she was watching a movie, Shelby saw herself walk over to her parents, without hesitation, they pleaded, apologizing profusely for anything they had ever done to the her. None of it fazed her, she spun the staff, and executed them right there, no tears, no remorse. She looked at Calypso, she smiled back at Shelby, "very well done indeed, we shall hone your skills my dear, come now."

Shelby clapped her hands over eyes and fell to her knees sobbing, “I am so sorry, Mom…Dad. Dad….I’m…” She crawled back up, using the wall, “Forgive m….” her parents faded away. She turned and saw the glowing green smoke lurk closer and she started running again. Sweat trickled down her forehead as she desperately tried running until it felt like she was stuck in a swamp hardly going anywhere. When she did move forward, obstacles obstructed her path and the green smoke swallowed her.

“Where are they? Where is Eliza? These so called… Rough Riders...hmm ?” Hissed Calypso.

Shelby struggled in the bindings, the metal clasps dug into her wrists, “I....I don't know.”

“Well, I trusted your decision and well, it put my life in jeopardy. IT PUT MY EMPIRE IN JEOPARDY!!!”

Shelby winced in anticipation as Calypso screamed, “LET THIS BE A LESSON TO ALL WHO CROSS ME, TO ALL WHO DO NOT FULLFILL THEIR OBLIGATION TO THE JADED EMPIRE!!!” Calypso got by Shelby's ear, “And to all that I give a responsibility to whom make unwise decisions based on feelings.” The crowd roared like it was a sporting event when Calypso raised the glass imbedded whip and cracked across Shelby's bare back. Shelby bit her lip until it bled, her clasps chewed at her wrists like a rabid dog. Again, this time her legs buckled, again and her legs gave out leaving her stretched out. “Only 47 more lashes Love,” Calypso grinned then Laughed aloud. It seemed like an eternity before the last crack of the whip was heard and tossed next to Shelby, her blood stained the shards of glass and leather as she clung to a string just to keep her eyes open. “THREE DAYS, THREE DAYS SHALL SHE BE ON DISPLAY SHOULD ANY OF YOU DECIDE TO CROSS ME. UPON THE DUSK OF THE THIRD DAY SHE SHALL BE DRAWN AND QUARTERED,” Calypso kneeled down and pat Shelby's back causing her to painfully twitch, “Do enjoy your accommodations Darling, I shall see you in three days.

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

Shelby sat straight up in bed drenched in sweat, she pulled her knees to her chest and rest her face on them and began to sob. She was thankful for the yelling in the street that woke her up from her recurring nightmare, or actually, remembering the severe sting of Calypso's whip. She gathered herself up, using the towel still laying on the bed to wipe off her face and sweaty chest. She swung her legs to the side of the bed, the floor was still warm from the heat of the day as she stood up on wobbly legs. Grabbing a makeup mirror she turned around, using it to see the scars of the 50 lashes Calypso had dealt. They made Mr. Fusiler’s whip scars look lile childs play.

“Was I right? To stand up to Calypso?” She reached back and touched her wounds, there were spots that lacerated deeply that were still tender to the touch, “Apparently I should never have...fuck that, Calypso is out of her fucking mind.” She silently thanked Waylon for cutting her loose, and not only that, helped to escape after he stole a significant amount of caps from Calypso. Surely Calypso had noticed the missing caps along with her former protege, who knew if she had placed a bounty on them or not, or if Calypso still held a place for Shelby in her blackened heart and frail mind.

Shelby slowly pulled on a pair of black leggings and a blue t-shirt. She sighed, wiping the remaining tears from her eyes and went up to the roof. She couldn't go to the diner in case that mutant was there, so she choose to have a drink up high in the roof and look down on the up and coming town. She reached into a cooler and grabbed her pint of oiss warm whiskey, twisting off the cap and throwing some back. “This is good. This is a good place to start over, start fresh. Kinda lonely, but safe for now at least.”

“Yeah, a little lonely,” Waylon walked out onto the roof, “Nightmares again? I was awake, heard ya walk upstairs.”

Shelby jumped, “Asshole. You want a pull?”

“Brought my own babe. Let's take one together,” Waylon twisted off the cap on his pint. Shelby smiled and nodded, they both raised their pints.

“To a new life,” They both said simultaneously as it had become their toast of choice and they both threw back their bottles.

[SkrtWithAWeapon]

CELESTE BROWN - Sandy Coves Inn

Celeste sighed in satisfaction as she straightened up and looked over the fruits of her labour. The kitchen sparkled -- well, as much as the centuries-old Formica and plastic could, she supposed -- and she'd be more than proud to cook up light snacks for her guests in such a place. The robot hissed and bleeped behind her.

"Most excellent work, Manager Celeste!" it complimented.

"Thanks!" she chirped, wiping sweat from her brow. "Now, on to that dining room."

"I've already taken the liberty of clearing out the, ahem, deceased and the most irreparable pieces of furniture, then followed up with a general sweep and tidy."

Celeste blinked. "Wow! You sure are fast!"

"Actually, if my computations are correct, I am operating at only 71% efficiency due to years of being stuck in an idle loop," the robot muttered.

"What?"

"No matter, Manager! If you're finished with that solution of Abraxo, I will freshen it up and get to cleaning the room, proper."

"Oh, sure," Celeste stepped out of the way to allow the robot to access her dirty water bucket. "Do you want some help?"

"That's not necessary. I'll have the place mopped up in a jiffy."

Celeste's stomach growled. "Well, if you're sure, I might just freshen up and see if I can find myself something to eat."

"Splendid plan, Manager!"

Celeste meandered back into her room and put her bag onto her freshly-made bed to root through her clothes. She selected a pink blouse with a bird motif and changed her top. After combing her hair, she went back into the kitchen and swept all the scavenged caps into her coin purse (about twenty-five, by her count) and stepped back out into the town. The air had cooled significantly and Celeste was taken aback by how much time had passed while she'd scrubbed out her kitchen. She wandered down the street to see lights on in the diner where she'd met Barney earlier in the day. Her stomach growled again, as if in response.

She walked in the door to see a grubby looking man, a blonde, a brunette, and a super mutant all at the bar. “To new friends and a new home, CHEERS!!!” cried the brunette, raising her bottle in the air. The blonde seemed to hesitate but joined her companion in the social salute. Celeste took a breath and approached the bar. The barkeep was puffing on a cigarette and smirking towards the brunette, having said something Celeste couldn't hear. She drew up next to the grubby man and pulled herself onto a stool, resting her bosom directly onto the countertop.

"Hi!" she smiled. "Nice diner! What's that amazing smell? Some kind of stew?" Celeste put a few caps onto the counter. "I'll take some."

She looked between the barkeep and the other patrons. "I'm Celeste!" she chimed by way of introduction. "I just got into town today. -- Oh! Hi, Barney!" she waved at the man on the other side. Barney mumbled and took a drink from his glass.

"Anyways," she continued, "I've been tidying up ol' Sandy Coves, just over that way," she pointed out the diner in the direction of the building. "It's an inn! So, if anyone needs a place to stay, I'll be happy to fix you up with a room!"

[Prizrak]

Eliza Weaver
Nowhere good......



Stranded alone in the wilderness. Eliza was forced to drag herself across the forest floor in search of shelter. Her legs and arms were shackled and had been for weeks, the skin beneath them had been rubbed bare and she had grown too weak from weeks of malnourishment that she couldn't muster enough energy to stand up. It took every ounce of strength she had left just to keep herself moving. She knew she had to keep going even though she didn't know her destination, the gunshots had long since subsided and the taunting yells of her pursuer had gone away entirely.

Eliza's heart was still racing and she felt like she was going to vomit. Just a few hours ago she watched as her most loyal soldiers were slaughtered like animals while she ran off into the woods, too scared to try and save them despite how far they came to save her. Eliza wasn't sure where she was at, and hadn't been since they were ambushed in Utah but that was months ago. Or at least she thought it was, time and distance had lost all of their meaning. She hadn't stopped running since Utah, when their helicopter was shot down and she drug herself from the burning wreckage.

She knew that she had crossed the Mississippi with six soldiers. Two of them perished in the crossing while their pursuer just recently killed the rest. Eliza was alone now, covered in grime and blood stranded in a foreign land. It was getting dark and she was struggling to stay warm but she couldn't stop, she was being propelled by her own fear as she continued into the night…..exhausted.

Time seemed to escape her and it seemed like she had been fleeing for days when someone grabbed the shackles around her ankles and yanked her towards them like a rag doll. Eliza let out a scream of agony as the shackles dug deeper into her skin and she desperately tried to crawl away but she was too weak. Her assailant dropped their weight down onto her back burying her face into the mud she was desperately trying to crawl through. She struggled to breathe as her airways filled with mud and filthy water, gagging and gasping for air only made it worse but Eliza's body was filled with panic, she wasn't ready to die…..not like this, alone.

Her assailant grabbed her and rolled her onto her back, she gasped for the cool night air but her lungs continued to burn as they strained to keep her supplied with oxygen. In the darkness she couldn't see who her attacker was but she knew it was the man that killed her soldiers. He was too good, he covered too many miles, and killed too many of her soldiers for him to be a pushover.

Eliza tried to struggle against him but the shackles he placed her in weeks ago prevented her battered body from putting up much of a resistance. The man placed a firm grip around Eliza's throat, slowly choking her but still keeping her conscious for what was about to come. With his spare hand he cut the belt off of Eliza's pants and ripped them off, he then stood up placing his boot on her throat while he undid his pants before coming back down on top of her. He cut Eliza's underwear off exposing the last bit of clean skin left on her. Eliza started to cry, and scream but she was still too weak to fight back.

“What do you say Eliza one more round for old times sake?” The man placed his blade to her gut guaranteeing her a miserable death if she struggled and began to violate her. Eliza screamed in agony, the pain being too much to bare. Then suddenly she woke up drenched in sweat and breathing erratically. She started to cry as the memories of what happened rushed back to her. She held her head in her hands while she sat up on the side of her bed, tears rolling down her face.

Although her breakdown was quickly interrupted by the sound of chatter and footsteps from the lower floors. She grabbed the revolver from her nightstand and laid back down into the bed. Still shaking from her nightmare and her injuries Eliza clutched the former revolver of her assailant, the gun that killed all of her soldiers, and nearly killed her. Whoever came through that door wouldn't have a chance to do any of those things to her again, even if she had to turn it on herself and finish the task it started. No matter what Eliza would find peace, she was tired of fighting…...

[Kouropalates]

Adam 'Trails' Wilford

Adam walked along the old highways and roads of Massachusetts and had found himself trading with a small town called Sanctuary Hills and had scored a nice haul in caps. "I tell you, Bessie, these northerners don't realize how good and fat it is around here. 200 Caps will last us a long time!" He pat Bessie on the side as his boots crunched alongside Bessie's hooves while he took a deep swig out of a fresh bottle of whiskey. When he arrived to the town of Salem, the guards warned him of no funny business almost right away and Adam could only chuckle. "Son, look at me. I'm a drunken trader whose only friend's a Brahmin, ain't that right, Bessie?" She mooed a confirming moo as if in answer. "See, we ain't looking for trouble, mister. We're just in town to trade, maybe settle in a while." The guards sighed and waved him through, obviously ready to be done with him. As he walked by the guard, he smiled at him and stopped, putting his bottle in the man's pouch. "Consider that my token of good faith, hoss. Friends?" He chuckled and pat the man on the back before making his way into town. "Well I'll be a Radroaches uncle. I expected a bunch of tin shacks like a couple backwoods rednecks. They got a proper town growing here. This'll be a fun adventure, girl." Looking about the town as he walked, he found what looked like to be a pre-war diner, still in use too. He couldn't find a spot to stick the rope to, so he put Bessie in a parking spot like she was some ol' Corvega. "You stay there, like a good girl. I'm getting some food for us, some vegetables for you and some steak for me, alright?" Her moo was an accusatory tone, to which Adam scoffed, "Don't play this game, girl, you know I ain't ever gonna eat you, sweetheart. But a man's gotta eat all the same." He turned and kicked his feet on the concrete to wipe the dust off and pushed the door open, the bell ringing overhead. He looked around and smiled, 'Nice place', he thought to himself as he sat at the counter. "Howdy, tell the cook I'll take a side of beef, some vegetables for me, a few for Bessie," He hiked a hand out the window behind him to his Brahmin, "and give me a cold glass of milk please." He dug into one of his infinite collections of pockets for a handful of caps and looked back up, "By the way, know any cheap places to rest my head? Or any unused houses? I'll take either to be honest."

((OOC: Whether his Brahmin is actually smart enough to pick up and understand things he says is up for debate and it's mostly how he's hearing it so he responds accordingly. Anyone who wants to chit-chat with Adam is more than welcome to if they want.))

[Callyx]

Eric

Eric, Enroute to Salem

Eric was on his way out of the Castle. After the last few tasks had been done and he paid the remaining caps, his weapons were back in tip top shape. Sure, he could have gotten a lot of other things, but this was something that he had grown to trust far more than other weapon. His armor wasn't the best either, but the repaint on it all was simply stunning to say the very least about it.

He was honestly glad for the cooler night tonight. Most people would tell him that he shouldn't travel at night, and while that is partly true... Eric had an idea of what was going to happen. He had heard the odd report of raiders or bandits attacking smaller groups or singles of travelers and waylaying the hell out of them. Outgunned and outclassed, most of them surrendered, but some times they fought back. Eric was hoping to run into one or two of these on his way to scout out Salem. If it was true, maybe he could put down a few of them...

If it proved to be false, then he could clock it up to bad reports or that he was just wasn't lucky. He slipped off the road once in the remains of the town outside of the castle, walking low with his rifle in his hands. He took his time, picking his way across when he heard voices down the road. It was scattered and muffled, but he could hear them.

“...Big score man. I'm telling you, a caravan always comes down this road. The musket heads are fools most of the time too, they don't bother to patrol this close to their precious castle because it should warn us off. Ha. What fuckin' fools.” A male voice said. “Ya got any more jet?”

Sitting around a small trashcan fire were indeed four raiders. He hadn't seen anyone in these parts in a while. Must be a newer or just foolhardy gang of assholes. Three men and a woman. Damn it... He hated having to kill women. The man and the woman moved off to patrol, scouting if the caravan was heading this way or not. Slinging his rifle, Eric moved through the shadows, aiming to keep as silent as possible.

The puff of the inhaler for jet whispered through the air, and Eric started to count. It was an extreme high, but it was always so short lived. At a quick count of thirty, he raised up from his hiding spot. The man who was with him was rooting through a bag when the first one got a knife the back of his skull. Drawing the blade back out, he pushed the body forwards as it twitched from the rapidly dying cells of the brain.

Falling upon the second, the man cursed out. “What the hell man!? Can't wait for your next hit? Really?” When he spoke, it was clear he was pissed off. When he realized that his friend's blood was now all over him, Eric struck out with the combat knife. The blade found flesh in the man's throat, and the twist and pull sealed his fate.

That was two down, two more to go. A quick search found a note, twelve caps, and a few .32 rounds with their armor and pipe pistols. Yeah, no thanks. He took the note, caps, and bullets, and then pressed on. He had to hunt down the other two raiders that had left on patrol before they could come back and freak out. It didn't take long for him to find them either. The two had used this moment to get off with each other. He had her pressed against the wall, pants off for both of them, and was just going to town. She was biting down on a bit of wood to keep from screaming out. It was great for them, even better for him.

Slipping up behind them, he pulled back out his rifle, waiting for the in stroke and stabbing forwards. The bayonet sliced through flesh just under the ribs and the pain made it so he didn't call out. She probably figured it was a harder thrust until the bullet fired. The .45 round ripped though the both, dropping them both dead on the side of the road. Eric wasn't even going to warrant this one with a search. Let them rot. Overall, a rather fruitful adventure so far! And he wasn't even twenty minutes away from the Castle!

With a shrug, he would look to his pip-boy. It was still working, lucky him, and he knew he would have to radio back to them before too long. He still had a few days however. He could reach Salem in two or three, two if he tried and was willing to risk being on the road in broad daylight. Popping his neck, he would continue down the road, heading towards Salem, and perhaps to see if it was a good place to settle down at like he had been told.

Rook

Rook – Salem Diner

Rook at the offered beer. It was an odd thing, he had never been offered a beer before, much less decided to get one for any reason. He tended to avoid drinks like this because he had no idea what it would do him. He had seen dozens of fights after people drank several of these... Perhaps one wouldn't hurt...

He smiled and raised it up, taking a drink from it and shaking his head afterwards. “Rook thinks this drink is funny. Not sure if drink is for him. Rook will still try to drink it however. Don't want caps to be wasted.” Rook said, trying his best to be polite for what was offered to him. After all, he did seem to slightly hurt some feelings by buying his own food.

But he ate a lot, and didn't want to make people broke trying to help keep him fed. He could do that on his own. But she was being nice to him, trying to make him feel welcome, and in truth, it was not a feeling he was really used too. People like Frieda seemed to be the norm, where people wanted to kill him instead of give him a shot of some kind. He knew it was going to take a while to get trust from some people... But he wasn't expecting others to be so open.

Lost in his mind for a bit, he realized he had finished his bottle. He set it aside and looked to Brandy for a moment. “Rook liked that, but Rook will stick with water for now. Rook doesn't want to drink all the beer!” He laughed, smiling a bit at her.

[Gingy]

Lorelei Jones - Weaver Residence

Lorelei looked back at Steve. "If you're so keen on helping her, then you'll get to do the heavy lifting. If the doctor ran back to his clinic, then we need to get moving." She carefully pressed through the double doors to the large brick apartment complex and drew her revolver. She began speaking in hushed whispers. "There's no telling who'll come after her."

Lorelei guided Steve upstairs. She gingerly trotted up the long set of stairwells. "I'll have to warn you. She's...jumpy. If she's awake, I don't know how she'll react to a stranger being around." She finally stopped at the third floor and pushed into the hallway. "Nothing brash. We are only trying to help her. Don't give her the impression we are there do anything outside of that category."

After Lorelei spotted Eliza's door, she slowly tiptoed toward it, Steve in tow. "...Eliza? I've brought someone who can take you to a real doctor. We're here to help." She peered into the room. Upon there being no sign of hostiles, she holstered her revolver and walked inside. "And before you go all hermit on me, you're going to need real treatment if you want to get out of bed anytime in the next several weeks."

Lorelei stared back at Steve expectantly. "Let's get her to the clinic."

[Lewis251]

Steve Cooper- Apartment Block

Overcoat grimaced. "I spent a good deal of time in the Capital Wasteland," she said as she arbitrarily scanned the different buildings. "I learned quickly to steer clear of D.C. and spend my days in the countryside."

“Not much safer out there either with the raiders and Super mutants wandering around but alteast you could hear and sometimes smell those losers from a distance and prepare an ambush for them.”

Company killed alot of mutants that way.

Overcoat looked back at Steve. "If you're so keen on helping her, then you'll get to do the heavy lifting. If the doctor ran back to his clinic, then we need to get moving."

“Okay but if there are any zombies hiding inside you will have to deal with them.” Steve replied as he watched overcoat carefully pressed through the double doors to the large brick apartment complex and drew her revolver. She began speaking in hushed whispers. "There's no telling who'll come after her.”

“Good question.”

Someone had shot the woman but so far they had yet to show up in town... could the woman have kill them? Could they have given up? Or perhaps they were lying in wait someone on the outskirts of town?

The All mighty Karma wasn’t 100% against them however as it appeared the apartment block was empty (or had been cleaned) of zombies with Steve and Overcoat easily able to make their way up without being molested by the dead.

"I'll have to warn you. She's...jumpy. If she's awake, I don't know how she'll react to a stranger being around."

I do have something that would stop that but should I give it to her?

"Nothing brash. We are only trying to help her. Don't give her the impression we are there do anything outside of that category."

“Of Course.”

Reaching the third floor they slowly and quietly tiptoed towards what Steve assumed to be the woman’s room “...Eliza? I've brought someone who can take you to a real doctor. We're here to help." She peered into the room. Upon there being no sign of hostiles, she holstered her revolver and walked inside. "And before you go all hermits on me, you're going to need real treatment if you want to get out of bed anytime in the next several weeks."

Steve slowly walked in behind overcoat “Hello my name is Steve, Steve cooper.” He said as he looked at the woman who was older the others in town but still younger than Steve. Judging by several scars on her face alone it would appear that she had been in trouble before.

But on which side?

Looking down at her more recent wounds it appeared overcoat had properly cleaned and bandaged the wounds but much like Sam it was almost possible to tell what damage they had done inside the woman, seemlying called Eliza and then there was the blood lost.

Overcoat stared back at Steve expectantly. "Let's get her to the clinic."

“Okay” Steve said as he slowly approached Eliza “I am going to pick you up now... I have a shot of Med-x on me would you like it to reduce the pain?"

maybe also have to use Fresh later on

[Prizrak]

Eliza Weaver
Salem, Massachusetts



Eliza's nerves calmed when she heard Lorelei's voice but the man that accompanied her made Eliza uncomfortable. Still even with the gun concealed under the blanket she questioned her resolve to use it. She needed to stop trying to fight these people, she needed to see a doctor…..even though she feared leaving her apartment in her current state. Eliza couldn't really trust these people.

All she could keep coming back to was her past, the times where she was vulnerable and someone used that to take advantage of her. What if that happened again? What if these people couldn't protect her while she recovered? There were so many uncertainties but Eliza knew the outcome of her staying in her apartment. She had lost too much blood and probably needed a transfusion, laying in this bed would definitely kill her so she had to trust these people.

Eliza revealed the revolver from underneath the blanket and slowly placed it onto the nightstand. She adjusted her panties so they didn't reveal anything, and shakily pulled the blanket off of her shivering body.

“I'll skip the shot, but you'll have to carry me. I can't put weight in my right leg.” Eliza was exhausted and she looked like a mess.
All she wanted at this point was to recover. “Lorelei could you grab some things for me since we're leaving could you grab the dog tags and a spare change of clothes for me? They're in the dresser by the bathroom door.”

Not waiting for a response from Lorelei. Eliza turned her focus towards the man. She was afraid to let him touch her but she was too weak to really resist him, plus with Lorelei there she felt safer. Eliza elevated her arms slightly above her sides to help the man pick her up but that's all she could really do. Just raising her arms felt like she was excerting way more effort than she actually was.

[f8lcobra]

Brandy Brooks – Ace’s Diner

“You know brandy, you tug at my belt, put your hand in my pocket…Call me old fashioned but some guys like to be wined and dined before they get this far,” Ace said with a smirk as he sipped on his whiskey, “I’m not just a piece of meat you know.”

Brandy downed half of her beer, then suddenly slammed the bottle down and covered her mouth, spitting beer into her hand. She looked up at Frieda then to Ace and turned towards Frieda, “Oh my God,” she blushed, “I didn’t me…I didn’t mean it like that.” She waved her hands at her face fanning herself, “Frieda, that doesn’t make me a floozy, does it?” She let out one more long exaggerated breath, “He is cute,” she whispered.

“Rook thinks this drink is funny. Not sure if drink is for him. Rook will still try to drink it however. Don't want caps to be wasted.” Rook said then finished his beer and looked to Brandy for a moment. “Rook liked that, but Rook will stick with water for now. Rook doesn't want to drink all the beer!” He laughed, smiling a bit at her.

Brandy had grabbed a napkins and wiped the beer from her chin and hands, she smiled, “At least you tried something new. You probably could drink a lot of beer if you really wanted to,” she laughed.

"Hi!" Said an unfamiliar voice. "Nice diner! What's that amazing smell? Some kind of stew?" The brown, curly haired woman put a few caps onto the counter. "I'll take some." She looked between the Ace and everyone. "I'm Celeste!" she chimed by way of introduction. "I just got into town today. -- Oh! Hi, Barney!" she waved at the man on the other side. Barney mumbled and took a drink from his glass. "Anyways," she continued, "I've been tidying up ol' Sandy Coves, just over that way," she pointed out the diner in the direction of the building. "It's an inn! So, if anyone needs a place to stay, I'll be happy to fix you up with a room!"

Brandy whipped around on her barstool and held out her hand, “Hi Celeste, I’m Brandy Brooks,” she smiled, “Welcome to Salem. I haven’t been to Sandy Coves yet, I can help fix things, I kind of do a little bit of everything.” Brandy felt the front of her dress, “Excuse me, I spit beer on myself, I’m just going to go wash up a little.” Brandy stood up and looked at Ace; blushing again she whispered to Frieda, “Will you come with me?” She couldn’t stop blushing as she kept sneaking a peek at Ace, grinning every time he caught her looking.

[f8lcobra]

Shelby Jackson – Drinkin’ on the roof of S&W Weaponry

Waylon moved the beach chair next to Shelby’s; she had carried two chairs and an umbrella up to the roof from the beach and cleaned them up. She frequented the roof to reflect on her life, both past and present. Plus it was a safe spot to try to get a tan, something she never really got the chance to do when she was with Calypso. It was her place of Zen, leaving the day’s work downstairs and just plain time to herself. She had an ammo box full of letters she had wrote to various people, her parents, Eliza, Calypso and several other influential people she had encountered in her life, good or bad. She also had a punching bag, several targets along with other exercise pieces she had collected since arriving in town.

“So, you still have those throwing knives up here?” asked Waylon.

“Yeah…why?” She got up and opened up a lunchbox, inside sat four throwing knives she had forged, perfectly balanced.

“Let’s see who is better?” Waylon picked two knives from the box and walked over to Shelby’s practice area.

“You already know I’m better,” she folded her arms and stood smugly.

“We’ll see brat, we’ll see,” Waylon flipped one in his hand and threw it, stumbling slightly and barely hit the target backdrop. “Just a warm up.”

Shelby raised her brow, “Best warm up quick then,” she took a knife and drilled just a couple inches from the bullseye, “HA!!” She took a pull from the whiskey bottle, while tipping the bottle she threw her second knife, hitting the outside edge of the target.

“Show off,” Waylon waved her off, he threw his second knife and it sailed past the target completely, skipping off the rooftop, nearly bouncing over the ledge.

“DAMMIT WAYLON,” she walked over and picked up the knife, “Stick to your pea shooters, leave the blades to a pro.” Shelby walked to where Waylon was standing; she looked at him then to the target, throwing the knife hitting the bullseye this time. She raised her brow again, “Not on your best day boy.”

Waylon burst out in laughter, “While you were napping I had a few, this is my second pint. My last pint too, I need to grab some more.” Shelby snatched the pint from Waylon and guzzled the last third of it down. “SHELBY, YOU BITCH!!!”

She tossed him the empty bottle, “Guess ya better get going Mr. Miss-a-lot.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ll go grab another bottle I guess, you want to go?”

“No way, I don’t know if that mutant is still there with that twit,” Shelby sat down and crossing her legs, “Have fun, grab me a pint too.” She waited until she couldn’t see Waylon anymore and made her way over to the ledge of the building and waited until she saw him down on street. She spit down at him, just missing he looked up and she waved and giggled.

Waylon shook his head and yelled, “Shelby, what the fuck am I going to do with you?” She just laughed and shrugged her shoulders.