@SkrtWithAWeaponIt's all good. I wrote it intentionally so that way you could get to it at you convenience but also advance the storyline. : >
Kouropalates Member
A Man Denied His Scavenged Junk
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@Kouropalates
😭 so sad :'(
Lol, I know it's a bit heavy as a topic. But I enjoy exploring these. A lot of RPs people like to be strong and powerful bosses and all that, but I enjoy exploring who a character is. Adam's story's not really one of grieving over loss so much as it is letting go of the past and trying to accept the realities of existence. He didn't kill his son, it was just a series of unfortunate events no one could have foreseen. But for him, he feels that it's all his fault and his failure to keep his son with him caused his death. The raid's history is a bit undefined at the moment, but just a casual raid feels silly and I think the idea I'll have in mind is it was a bigger raider group trying to make raiders and settlements their subjugated tributaries and their town was the last holdout and refused to pay. But it's not expected to come up in the RP unless someone can asks about his past. Otherwise he's more trying to live in the here and now. Discarding his photo of his family he raised is less about him abandoning/coldly discarding or anything like that and is more intended as a sort of beginning road to letting go of the grief that's made him the man he is now. He's spent the past six years celibate and refused to even date and it was all driven by feelings of guilt. Guilt he couldn't prevent Ellia's cancer (reasonably no one could, but guilt and grief aren't always reasonably driven) and his son's he feels he could have prevented and it's his fault. He's let off the first shackle by letting go of his wife (he isn't going to forget her, but his photograph is an emotional chain on his leg, not simply a loving memento) and letting go of his son's death will be even harder since there's more room for blame there.
Adam 'Trails' Wilford- Wilford's shed
Adam was in his small one room shed, patching the holes in the wall before he got to putting out the goods he'd scavenged out of the Inn. His holotape playing a bunch of Pre-War country songs, the current one a song called 'I never will marry' that filled the room with music, which worked for him since he hated silence. He groaned as he got up from his knees, holding his welder's torch in one hand. "There, that ought to to it. Now, before I get to putting this stuff out, I should get to cleaning off the boat since those parts ain't coming in for a few days yet." He put his tools back and dug around for his brushes and rags to polish and clean the ship of the blood, crap and general dirt that had gotten on her over time. Adam took his jacket off to work in his t-shirt to keep cooler while he worked in the sun and strolled around his shed to the makeshift dock he'd thrown up, a joke in comparison to the proper docks to his left and right, but he was mistrustful of anyone but him overseeing his boat except him and maybe Rook. He hopped on deck and looked around in disgust at the cages needing removal to be fixed, but he sighed, figuring this would be the price of helping make Salem succeed. He put the small crate of cleaning supplies down and began moving on and off the ship to the coast, putting cages and old rope and fishing net in a neat pile. After about an hour, he'd finally cleared the deck and returned to the crate beside the ship's controls and began to spray the deck with a mixture of Abraxo and other cleaning solvents and began to scrub with both hands to scrub through all the grime.
As Adam finally finished, he looked out west, noticing the orange radiance of the sun. He'd put up the supplies and put a longer sleeved shirt on and decided to sit back on the boat. He dug out the film canister and for once he felt no dread to see his old photograph of his wife and son. He'd spent years denying to himself his past, but something in his encounter with Celeste seemed to allow him to confront his choices he'd made almost six years back. Adam looked at his wife, a mixture of shame, longing and relief all a torrent inside, but he only smiled a sad smile to her smiling face. He sighed, then finally spoke to the picture, "Ellia, I....you know I'm sorry. About Jack, I mean. I didn't abandon him, but you know that, don't you? I couldn't have him be a drifter like his pa, he deserved a settled life. But...maybe with Salem....maybe one day. But how could I ever face him. He may have my letter, but, hell, you can't blame the kid if he never wanted to speak to me again. But I was never that good with kids, without you, I didn't know what to do. But, I think, meeting Celeste, finally telling the whole story, not just vague parts, finally brought some closure." He ran a hand in his the mustache over his lips and kissed the photograph. "And that's why you know I have to do this, my love. You will always be in my heart, but I have to let go. It's....it's how you'd have wanted it." Adam took a fist sized boulder and tied the canister to with with a piece of fishing line and kissed the can one last time. "You're free. Both of you. You don't need me to hold your ghosts in this world anymore."
Adam was in his small one room shed, patching the holes in the wall before he got to putting out the goods he'd scavenged out of the Inn. His holotape playing a bunch of Pre-War country songs, the current one a song called 'I never will marry' that filled the room with music, which worked for him since he hated silence. He groaned as he got up from his knees, holding his welder's torch in one hand. "There, that ought to to it. Now, before I get to putting this stuff out, I should get to cleaning off the boat since those parts ain't coming in for a few days yet." He put his tools back and dug around for his brushes and rags to polish and clean the ship of the blood, crap and general dirt that had gotten on her over time. Adam took his jacket off to work in his t-shirt to keep cooler while he worked in the sun and strolled around his shed to the makeshift dock he'd thrown up, a joke in comparison to the proper docks to his left and right, but he was mistrustful of anyone but him overseeing his boat except him and maybe Rook. He hopped on deck and looked around in disgust at the cages needing removal to be fixed, but he sighed, figuring this would be the price of helping make Salem succeed. He put the small crate of cleaning supplies down and began moving on and off the ship to the coast, putting cages and old rope and fishing net in a neat pile. After about an hour, he'd finally cleared the deck and returned to the crate beside the ship's controls and began to spray the deck with a mixture of Abraxo and other cleaning solvents and began to scrub with both hands to scrub through all the grime.
As Adam finally finished, he looked out west, noticing the orange radiance of the sun. He'd put up the supplies and put a longer sleeved shirt on and decided to sit back on the boat. He dug out the film canister and for once he felt no dread to see his old photograph of his wife and son. He'd spent years denying to himself his past, but something in his encounter with Celeste seemed to allow him to confront his choices he'd made almost six years back. Adam looked at his wife, a mixture of shame, longing and relief all a torrent inside, but he only smiled a sad smile to her smiling face. He sighed, then finally spoke to the picture, "Ellia, I....you know I'm sorry. About Jack, I mean. I didn't abandon him, but you know that, don't you? I couldn't have him be a drifter like his pa, he deserved a settled life. But...maybe with Salem....maybe one day. But how could I ever face him. He may have my letter, but, hell, you can't blame the kid if he never wanted to speak to me again. But I was never that good with kids, without you, I didn't know what to do. But, I think, meeting Celeste, finally telling the whole story, not just vague parts, finally brought some closure." He ran a hand in his the mustache over his lips and kissed the photograph. "And that's why you know I have to do this, my love. You will always be in my heart, but I have to let go. It's....it's how you'd have wanted it." Adam took a fist sized boulder and tied the canister to with with a piece of fishing line and kissed the can one last time. "You're free. Both of you. You don't need me to hold your ghosts in this world anymore."
((OOC: Just to give you more to work with, Skrt, I wrote about the return of Celeste to the room lightly to give you more ability to interact with the scene in the way you'd expect Celeste to.))
Adam 'Trails' Wilford- Sandy Coves
Adam ran a hand through his hair as Celese seemed taken aback by his offer, "Golly! That's...quite generous. Thank you! Please, why don't we settle up inside, hmm? I made some scones and believe I owe you a coffee." She held the door open for him and he stepped inside. "I'd love to hear more about what's so special about that stuff. I've met a few folks in my life who were into pre-war things but I don't think I've ever met a collector so...passionate." Adam felt a knot in his stomach, disdain knowing the situation unfolding and knew how he'd have to end it just like all the other time. Celeste had led him into a decently sized dining hall to one of the smaller tables and offered him a seat. Celeste didn't sit yet, instead she'd said "Now, you just sit right there and let me get you one of these warm scones and some coffee!" and gave a wide grin. But when she didn't come back quickly yet, he pulled out a photograph he seldom dared to ever acknowledge existed or risk falling into a day or two of deep sadness, but he knew today wouldn't be one of those days. He took in a deep breath and exhaled, unfurling the old picture he kept in a special film roll just for it. At once his mood sank as his mind gushed with a wild river of memories as the faded photo showed a beardless Adam, a woman in faded Pre-War clothes and a bundled child. He didn't need the photograph to be colored to remember her beautiful dark skin or the perfume she wore. The happy times or the fights. He'd heard Celeste coming back and didn't bother hiding it, he'd had enough experience in this situation now to learn proof helped.
When Celeste returned, he nodded, "Miss Celeste." He waved a hand to the chair across from him. "Ma'am, I need to be upfront. I...I think I know where this is heading and....I can't let it get there." He looked down at the scones, but just the sight of food was only making him feel sicker so he didn't touch them. "You ever heard the phrase 'It ain't you, it's me?' Well. It's sincere in this case.", he handed Celeste his faded picture. "That...", he stopped himself, he knew he had to acknowledge everything she was, "...she was my wife. We'd met in a situation a lot like this one. It was a ruined town in the Pre-War region of West Virginia. She was from one of them Vaults and I was still young enough to flirt like a Yao Guai in mating season. She had the most lovely ebony skin and a nice figure in her Vault Suit. She thought I was handsome," he smirked a sad and somewhat embarrassed smirk, "so she asked me to coffee in the town diner. Well, we spent five years together in that town, married by a wandering priest and everything." He fought with himself, as he always did when he needed to confront the worst parts of his life, to let out the last part. "Well, her being from a Vault, she didn't have the immune system to deal with all the problems of the Wasteland, so, she ended up getting cancer and passed away not long after, it was voracious. When she died, I fell into a black hole."
Adam continued to look at the back of the picture, "I...I'm not proud of myself for this, but I put my son up for adoption and took back to the road. I hurt to think of what I did to Jack, but it was for his own good. I'd just lost my wife and every time I looked at him, I saw her. I was unfit to be a father back then in the state I was in after Ellia's death. I didn't abandon him, I wanted him to have a good life and I wanted to run back to what I did best, wandering." He looked down at the cup of coffee, slowly ceasing to steam as it cooled, "I even left a letter for him when he was old enough to read with his adoptive family. A kid shouldn't spend his whole life thinking he wasn't wanted. I left him behind because that town wasn't much, but it was rural and away from any real faction fighting. Walled and safe. This life isn't for good men. Wandering I mean. I've killed my share of men just defending myself and even that feels like a tear in my soul. Twenty-three men dead so I can live. I keep a mental count of every life I take, not with pride, but with remorse. I didn't want Jack to have my life, he deserved better." Adam stood up, a quiet hand asking for his picture back. "I've never been with a woman since. Not as some sort of penance, but I never wanted to let another woman in my heart like that, to risk losing them like that again." He rolled the picture into its film case and tucked it in an inner jacket pocket. He bent in and gave her a slow and gentle kiss on the cheek, "If I stay in town a while and we spend a little more time together, maybe I'll finally get over my wife's death." Adam felt bad he didn't touch her food, so he grabbed the coffee. He chugged it like a young man does a beer and nearly gagged. "I....I shoulda.....ugh....drank it hot...."
After recovering from that moment of unflatteringness, Adam chuckled at himself for being such a goof and breaking the clouds of despair he'd had hanging around him. He looked back and smiled, "Goodbye....Celeste.", dropping the formality he used to keep people at a distance. "Oh right!" He threw a small pouch to Celeste and went out front to get his chest and drag it home. Inside it was a bag of 165 caps and a note, the note reading '115 for the goods. 50 for being the worst. first date. ever. Come by my place on the coast. Look for the seaside shed with the big white boat and the Brahmin, I'll treat you to the better one you deserved'.
Adam 'Trails' Wilford- Sandy Coves
Adam ran a hand through his hair as Celese seemed taken aback by his offer, "Golly! That's...quite generous. Thank you! Please, why don't we settle up inside, hmm? I made some scones and believe I owe you a coffee." She held the door open for him and he stepped inside. "I'd love to hear more about what's so special about that stuff. I've met a few folks in my life who were into pre-war things but I don't think I've ever met a collector so...passionate." Adam felt a knot in his stomach, disdain knowing the situation unfolding and knew how he'd have to end it just like all the other time. Celeste had led him into a decently sized dining hall to one of the smaller tables and offered him a seat. Celeste didn't sit yet, instead she'd said "Now, you just sit right there and let me get you one of these warm scones and some coffee!" and gave a wide grin. But when she didn't come back quickly yet, he pulled out a photograph he seldom dared to ever acknowledge existed or risk falling into a day or two of deep sadness, but he knew today wouldn't be one of those days. He took in a deep breath and exhaled, unfurling the old picture he kept in a special film roll just for it. At once his mood sank as his mind gushed with a wild river of memories as the faded photo showed a beardless Adam, a woman in faded Pre-War clothes and a bundled child. He didn't need the photograph to be colored to remember her beautiful dark skin or the perfume she wore. The happy times or the fights. He'd heard Celeste coming back and didn't bother hiding it, he'd had enough experience in this situation now to learn proof helped.
When Celeste returned, he nodded, "Miss Celeste." He waved a hand to the chair across from him. "Ma'am, I need to be upfront. I...I think I know where this is heading and....I can't let it get there." He looked down at the scones, but just the sight of food was only making him feel sicker so he didn't touch them. "You ever heard the phrase 'It ain't you, it's me?' Well. It's sincere in this case.", he handed Celeste his faded picture. "That...", he stopped himself, he knew he had to acknowledge everything she was, "...she was my wife. We'd met in a situation a lot like this one. It was a ruined town in the Pre-War region of West Virginia. She was from one of them Vaults and I was still young enough to flirt like a Yao Guai in mating season. She had the most lovely ebony skin and a nice figure in her Vault Suit. She thought I was handsome," he smirked a sad and somewhat embarrassed smirk, "so she asked me to coffee in the town diner. Well, we spent five years together in that town, married by a wandering priest and everything." He fought with himself, as he always did when he needed to confront the worst parts of his life, to let out the last part. "Well, her being from a Vault, she didn't have the immune system to deal with all the problems of the Wasteland, so, she ended up getting cancer and passed away not long after, it was voracious. When she died, I fell into a black hole."
Adam continued to look at the back of the picture, "I...I'm not proud of myself for this, but I put my son up for adoption and took back to the road. I hurt to think of what I did to Jack, but it was for his own good. I'd just lost my wife and every time I looked at him, I saw her. I was unfit to be a father back then in the state I was in after Ellia's death. I didn't abandon him, I wanted him to have a good life and I wanted to run back to what I did best, wandering." He looked down at the cup of coffee, slowly ceasing to steam as it cooled, "I even left a letter for him when he was old enough to read with his adoptive family. A kid shouldn't spend his whole life thinking he wasn't wanted. I left him behind because that town wasn't much, but it was rural and away from any real faction fighting. Walled and safe. This life isn't for good men. Wandering I mean. I've killed my share of men just defending myself and even that feels like a tear in my soul. Twenty-three men dead so I can live. I keep a mental count of every life I take, not with pride, but with remorse. I didn't want Jack to have my life, he deserved better." Adam stood up, a quiet hand asking for his picture back. "I've never been with a woman since. Not as some sort of penance, but I never wanted to let another woman in my heart like that, to risk losing them like that again." He rolled the picture into its film case and tucked it in an inner jacket pocket. He bent in and gave her a slow and gentle kiss on the cheek, "If I stay in town a while and we spend a little more time together, maybe I'll finally get over my wife's death." Adam felt bad he didn't touch her food, so he grabbed the coffee. He chugged it like a young man does a beer and nearly gagged. "I....I shoulda.....ugh....drank it hot...."
After recovering from that moment of unflatteringness, Adam chuckled at himself for being such a goof and breaking the clouds of despair he'd had hanging around him. He looked back and smiled, "Goodbye....Celeste.", dropping the formality he used to keep people at a distance. "Oh right!" He threw a small pouch to Celeste and went out front to get his chest and drag it home. Inside it was a bag of 165 caps and a note, the note reading '115 for the goods. 50 for being the worst. first date. ever. Come by my place on the coast. Look for the seaside shed with the big white boat and the Brahmin, I'll treat you to the better one you deserved'.
@Kouropalates I figured Adam would go back into the inn as invited but by no means does he have to stay or accept any food or coffee. Celeste is a little...forward, like that. ;)
Oh he knows. But I haven't really finished shedding more of his layers yet. He can tell Celeste is being a bit flirtatious, but he's not really interested in romance yet. He'd actually be okay with sitting down to coffee, but he'd probably panic or be uncomfortable the moment romance begins to come into play. I haven't pulled that backstory out yet since there hasn't really been a context for it to come up yet. He's built up as a character that can basically described as 'Good man, tragic life yet he still keeps going.'.
No, it's all good. I was just mentioning the correction because for some reason I just felt the need to correct it so there's a coherent timeline. It honestly doesn't matter and I'm not sure who really started it off, I just wanted to correct that point. There's no harm or foul, just kind of making a sort of 'editorials correction' comment. No one's got any reason to apologize.
I know this really makes no difference in the grand scheme, but I just want to point out that in the order of things, Nut was meant to go first in speaking to Skirt IC. I don't know why, but the fact it got overlooked has be a bit bothered. Not mad or annoyed at anyone, just more bugged the oversight itself happened.
Adam 'Trails' Wilford- Sandy Cove Inn
"O-oh! No, not at all!" Celeste said, her cheeks blushing deep as apples. "Too bad you weren't here yesterday, Archie and I spent most of the day picking up and tossing out the junk, including the broken robots. Most of it just got piled up behind the building. But, you're welcome to take a look around, and I'm sure I can toss up something edible for you without a problem. I've already made some coffee, if you'd like?" Adam gave a short exhale of a laugh and smiled as he ran a hand through his grey and brown beard, "No thanks, Ma'am. I put business over relaxing. I'll be 'round back and show you what I'd like." He turned to head out back, then realizing it might seem too rude to just leave in such a 'matter-of-fact' way and turned, smiling, "Then we'll talk about that coffee." and went out side to look out back.
Adam found an old army chest by the collection of stuff and fell in love, it'd be perfect for stowing stuff. Digging around he found a few odds and ends. What struck him was a small odd angle. Lifting it from the pile, there was an old American Flag. He frowned and wiped dirt off the glass, giving it a gentle place in the old chest as a priest would a holy relic. He looked around further and found a picture of a woman in uniform. Adam's mouth quietly dropped, putting two and two together. The flag, the chest, this woman. These were her things. She served the Old World, served America. He brought it into the sunlight and put it into his chest and saluted the box, honoring the unknown woman in the picture. He sighed a heavy hearted sigh as he always did at finding Pre-War relics like those, but looked back into the pile and found a bunch of flower patterned sheets. that didn't look too worn out. After finding a few small odds and ends and a few knick knacks for the shed, he brought the chest around front. "Miss Celeste! I got stuff here outside." He waited for her to show up as he wiped a little sweat off his brow, then let her inspect the box. "I figure the box is worth about 100 caps at most, but I'll throw in about 115 for good measure. Most of this stuff is junk, so it's not worth much in general, but I want it, so I'm always willing to pay a little extra to get the things I want."
"O-oh! No, not at all!" Celeste said, her cheeks blushing deep as apples. "Too bad you weren't here yesterday, Archie and I spent most of the day picking up and tossing out the junk, including the broken robots. Most of it just got piled up behind the building. But, you're welcome to take a look around, and I'm sure I can toss up something edible for you without a problem. I've already made some coffee, if you'd like?" Adam gave a short exhale of a laugh and smiled as he ran a hand through his grey and brown beard, "No thanks, Ma'am. I put business over relaxing. I'll be 'round back and show you what I'd like." He turned to head out back, then realizing it might seem too rude to just leave in such a 'matter-of-fact' way and turned, smiling, "Then we'll talk about that coffee." and went out side to look out back.
Adam found an old army chest by the collection of stuff and fell in love, it'd be perfect for stowing stuff. Digging around he found a few odds and ends. What struck him was a small odd angle. Lifting it from the pile, there was an old American Flag. He frowned and wiped dirt off the glass, giving it a gentle place in the old chest as a priest would a holy relic. He looked around further and found a picture of a woman in uniform. Adam's mouth quietly dropped, putting two and two together. The flag, the chest, this woman. These were her things. She served the Old World, served America. He brought it into the sunlight and put it into his chest and saluted the box, honoring the unknown woman in the picture. He sighed a heavy hearted sigh as he always did at finding Pre-War relics like those, but looked back into the pile and found a bunch of flower patterned sheets. that didn't look too worn out. After finding a few small odds and ends and a few knick knacks for the shed, he brought the chest around front. "Miss Celeste! I got stuff here outside." He waited for her to show up as he wiped a little sweat off his brow, then let her inspect the box. "I figure the box is worth about 100 caps at most, but I'll throw in about 115 for good measure. Most of this stuff is junk, so it's not worth much in general, but I want it, so I'm always willing to pay a little extra to get the things I want."
Adam 'Trails Wilford- Sandy Coves Inn
Adam turned at the sight of the scarred man who seemed reticent to speak to one of them bots, which was understandable and turned to Adam. “Do you work here, or know the person that works here? Emergency.” He thought to say no, but couldn't help himself. "Sure am. Sander G Coves, some 'round here call me Sandy. Hence the name." But before he could continue his shenanigans, the girl from the diner named Brandy stopped him and spoke over him. “Na...no, I don't, the robot is Archie and Celeste over there is the owner.”. A small, kind of cutely meek really, woman popped out from a corner. "I'm Celeste Brown," she repeated for emphasis, flipping some curls off her shoulder and smiling her sweetest smile. "This is the Sandy Coves Inn, and my assistant there is Archie." Adam stood aside, making a sweeping motion with his fingers for the big man to go ahead, "Go on, partner. I'm in no rush.". Adam leaned against the wall as he waited for them to finish up before he had his say.
Adam approached and nodded. "Ma'am.", instinctively tried to tip his trader's cap and realized he'd forgotten it back at the shack, "Oh...this is embarrassing. Seems I left my cap back at the shed." He wiped his hands on his jeans again, realizing he'd forgotten to take care of that back at the shed. "Sorry, was working on my fishing boat and I didn't wash my hands before I came into town." He cleared his throat to try and introduce himself again. "Name's Adam Wilford, scavenger and merchant by trade....and a little side work in repair too." He put his hand to his side when he finished his introduction. "I'm not really one to beat around the bush, so I'll just come out and get to business. I heard your ol bed n' breakfast here ain't running yet. I was wondering if maybe you might be willing to let me look around for anything good. I will pay top shelf for it if you're willing to sell." He dug around in his pockets and found a worn leather pouch and muttered to himself, "Oops, that's the personal funds. Need the....business!" He found the blue pouch and put a bag of 500 caps out to her to count. "See? So you know I ain't some 'dine and dash' trader trying to rip you off." He put the pouch back in his jacket. "If not, that's alright. I'm overdue for a meal that ain't canned and cooked on a hotplate too if you're up for mealtime. Or both, really."
Adam turned at the sight of the scarred man who seemed reticent to speak to one of them bots, which was understandable and turned to Adam. “Do you work here, or know the person that works here? Emergency.” He thought to say no, but couldn't help himself. "Sure am. Sander G Coves, some 'round here call me Sandy. Hence the name." But before he could continue his shenanigans, the girl from the diner named Brandy stopped him and spoke over him. “Na...no, I don't, the robot is Archie and Celeste over there is the owner.”. A small, kind of cutely meek really, woman popped out from a corner. "I'm Celeste Brown," she repeated for emphasis, flipping some curls off her shoulder and smiling her sweetest smile. "This is the Sandy Coves Inn, and my assistant there is Archie." Adam stood aside, making a sweeping motion with his fingers for the big man to go ahead, "Go on, partner. I'm in no rush.". Adam leaned against the wall as he waited for them to finish up before he had his say.
Adam approached and nodded. "Ma'am.", instinctively tried to tip his trader's cap and realized he'd forgotten it back at the shack, "Oh...this is embarrassing. Seems I left my cap back at the shed." He wiped his hands on his jeans again, realizing he'd forgotten to take care of that back at the shed. "Sorry, was working on my fishing boat and I didn't wash my hands before I came into town." He cleared his throat to try and introduce himself again. "Name's Adam Wilford, scavenger and merchant by trade....and a little side work in repair too." He put his hand to his side when he finished his introduction. "I'm not really one to beat around the bush, so I'll just come out and get to business. I heard your ol bed n' breakfast here ain't running yet. I was wondering if maybe you might be willing to let me look around for anything good. I will pay top shelf for it if you're willing to sell." He dug around in his pockets and found a worn leather pouch and muttered to himself, "Oops, that's the personal funds. Need the....business!" He found the blue pouch and put a bag of 500 caps out to her to count. "See? So you know I ain't some 'dine and dash' trader trying to rip you off." He put the pouch back in his jacket. "If not, that's alright. I'm overdue for a meal that ain't canned and cooked on a hotplate too if you're up for mealtime. Or both, really."
Adam 'Trails' Wilford- Outside Adam's Home
Adam and Rook had worked for hours, hauling the rope inch by inch. It was exhausting work and he made no mistake in acknowledging Rook was the man who did the brunt of the work and he and Bessie were more the help on the project. By the time they were done, Adam collapsed onto a small milkcrate on the wall of his shack, sitting in the noontime shade. His forearms ached like a thousand knives, but he reached for two bottles of water, one for him and one for Rook. He passed Rook's bottle to him and the mutant spoke up, “Can man get it to work? Boats can be useful. Boats can be helpful. Rook only hopes we have enough to keep raiders away who might want boat.” Adam sighed from exhaustion, "I don't know, man. I haven't looked yet." He sourced an old handkerchief from his jeans and wiped away sweat and got up with a groan and walked down to the coastline with Rook, "I only looked to make sure it ain't got holes in it that'd sink it when we pulled it. I figured if we got her to shore, then we'd worry about what's under her skirts." He climbed over the side and opened the hatch to her engine with a yell of "Oh, holy hell!" and went silent as he continued looking around inside. Then slammed it shut in mild anger and looked back at Rook. "Yeah, she'll run, but it'll take a few days. Engine's flooded with sea water and a few common components are rusted, but it'll take a few days talking to some of the guys I know on the road. They'll bring the parts but it'll be about two to three days. I can get this dried out by the next few days. But the dang thing's gonna need a lot of TLC before she's truly seaworthy again." He half-waved his hand in the air in frustration and sighed, "Thanks, Rook. You're a good man. I don't think I'll be needing you for anything else. But if I see any of them crabmen about, I'll give a holler. That said, don't think I'll forget that you done right by me. The deal still stands, a crate of fish from every catch I bring in whenever you want, just stop by and ask whenever you're in the mood for fish." Adam dug around in an old chest left by whoever used it before the war and dug around for the small pumps he'd need to drain the water and spoke as he set them up, nothing fancy, just a small electric pump, "Uh, right now though. I'm going to take a walk about town to blow off a little steam, get my mind off the boat while she drains the sea outta her belly." He went in his shack, putting on his trader's jacket and slung his sack on his back. He went back to Rook and shook his hand, "Again, thanks, friend. I couldn't have done this without you. We're bringing a whole new venue to the town. Might even make Salem relevant as a key trading hub in the region." He smiled a genuine smile, not his phony trader smile, the traces of his hidden sadness in the lines, "I've met a lot of people in my time on the road, not many of them good ones, but I'm glad you're not one of those many.". He turned and made his walk into the town proper, putting back the mask of happiness he kept for the world firmly in place once more.
Salem- Sandy Coves Inn
Adam had overheard some woman was camped out in a place that used to be an old retirement center and figured he might try to see if she'd let him dig around in her place for things to scavenge. Most people weren't willing to part with their goods, but some were....for a price. If he was lucky, she'd be one of the latter. If not, well, such is life as a roving trader. He finally found his feet in front of the inn and opened the door and was taken aback to see it was a robot behind the desk, not a lady. "Hello, sir! I'm Archie and welcome to Sandy Coves. Will you be requiring a room? It's only eig-", Adam put up a hand to halt the Handy, "Woah, slow down there, hoss. I ain't here for room and board. I'm uhhh, here to speak to your boss. Tempeste? Selista? Somethin' like that?"
((@skrtwithaweaponI'm sorry for the light CC of your character, I hope you don't mind. I just figured since it attends the desk he'd be there at some point, so I only used a basic 'welcome' line to reduce any possible conflicts of personality. If you have a problem with that though, please let me know and I'll correct it promptly. :) ))
Adam and Rook had worked for hours, hauling the rope inch by inch. It was exhausting work and he made no mistake in acknowledging Rook was the man who did the brunt of the work and he and Bessie were more the help on the project. By the time they were done, Adam collapsed onto a small milkcrate on the wall of his shack, sitting in the noontime shade. His forearms ached like a thousand knives, but he reached for two bottles of water, one for him and one for Rook. He passed Rook's bottle to him and the mutant spoke up, “Can man get it to work? Boats can be useful. Boats can be helpful. Rook only hopes we have enough to keep raiders away who might want boat.” Adam sighed from exhaustion, "I don't know, man. I haven't looked yet." He sourced an old handkerchief from his jeans and wiped away sweat and got up with a groan and walked down to the coastline with Rook, "I only looked to make sure it ain't got holes in it that'd sink it when we pulled it. I figured if we got her to shore, then we'd worry about what's under her skirts." He climbed over the side and opened the hatch to her engine with a yell of "Oh, holy hell!" and went silent as he continued looking around inside. Then slammed it shut in mild anger and looked back at Rook. "Yeah, she'll run, but it'll take a few days. Engine's flooded with sea water and a few common components are rusted, but it'll take a few days talking to some of the guys I know on the road. They'll bring the parts but it'll be about two to three days. I can get this dried out by the next few days. But the dang thing's gonna need a lot of TLC before she's truly seaworthy again." He half-waved his hand in the air in frustration and sighed, "Thanks, Rook. You're a good man. I don't think I'll be needing you for anything else. But if I see any of them crabmen about, I'll give a holler. That said, don't think I'll forget that you done right by me. The deal still stands, a crate of fish from every catch I bring in whenever you want, just stop by and ask whenever you're in the mood for fish." Adam dug around in an old chest left by whoever used it before the war and dug around for the small pumps he'd need to drain the water and spoke as he set them up, nothing fancy, just a small electric pump, "Uh, right now though. I'm going to take a walk about town to blow off a little steam, get my mind off the boat while she drains the sea outta her belly." He went in his shack, putting on his trader's jacket and slung his sack on his back. He went back to Rook and shook his hand, "Again, thanks, friend. I couldn't have done this without you. We're bringing a whole new venue to the town. Might even make Salem relevant as a key trading hub in the region." He smiled a genuine smile, not his phony trader smile, the traces of his hidden sadness in the lines, "I've met a lot of people in my time on the road, not many of them good ones, but I'm glad you're not one of those many.". He turned and made his walk into the town proper, putting back the mask of happiness he kept for the world firmly in place once more.
Salem- Sandy Coves Inn
Adam had overheard some woman was camped out in a place that used to be an old retirement center and figured he might try to see if she'd let him dig around in her place for things to scavenge. Most people weren't willing to part with their goods, but some were....for a price. If he was lucky, she'd be one of the latter. If not, well, such is life as a roving trader. He finally found his feet in front of the inn and opened the door and was taken aback to see it was a robot behind the desk, not a lady. "Hello, sir! I'm Archie and welcome to Sandy Coves. Will you be requiring a room? It's only eig-", Adam put up a hand to halt the Handy, "Woah, slow down there, hoss. I ain't here for room and board. I'm uhhh, here to speak to your boss. Tempeste? Selista? Somethin' like that?"
((@skrtwithaweaponI'm sorry for the light CC of your character, I hope you don't mind. I just figured since it attends the desk he'd be there at some point, so I only used a basic 'welcome' line to reduce any possible conflicts of personality. If you have a problem with that though, please let me know and I'll correct it promptly. :) ))
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