I think that's all the main points
Adam also has this to help make the fishing industry for Salem soon.
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A Man Denied His Scavenged Junk
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Adam also has this to help make the fishing industry for Salem soon.
Adam 'Trails' Wilford
Adam nodded to Rook and looked over at the woman that began speaking to him, “Uh…apparently, we’ve got a nest of rodents nearby, and Steve decided to ruthlessly murder their messenger-boy.” She shrugged. “Nothing out of the ordinary.” and Adam frowned as the man named Steve was suggesting playing dress up with those bodies. "That's a dumb idea, hoss. They sit near our walls and they start looking at the bullet wounds, it wouldn't take a rocket scientist to put two and two together who's killing their boys." He kept silent on how he figured what'd happen and Steve spoke as he bent down, picking up a rifle by the raider's corpse,“With any luck they will blame each other for the attack and whilst they are busy getting revenge we can finish off the town wall.” Adam snorted, "Yeah, if they're drugged up rape fiend raiders. But if they're a band worth their salt, they're going to start sniffing around. Steve continued on, “Should also build some traps and turrets to guard us and any blinds pots we have until the wall is finished and then once built save us from having to man all of the wall 24-7." Adam nodded, "Yeah. That's one side. Take a look around you, we're surrounded on three sides by water. We'll still need foot patrols along the coastlines. Then there's the gate into town, that'll need siege reinforcements. Too many good towns have fallen overlooking the importance of a strong gate. Maybe weld sheet metal or weld some steel together and make something like those ancient castles. And a slit in the door that can be opened to look through when need be if there's no one on the wall."
Adam shook his head, upset all this fuss was over some dead wasteland raider. He turned to leave, accidentally bumped into the woman from earlier, "Er, sorry, Miss." After a few moments of her studying him up and down, she stepped forward and offered her hand, “Lorelei. Lorelei Jones.”. Adam nodded, "Right. Nice to meet you, Miss Jones. I'm Adam. You ever need anything, give me a holler. I own the white fishing boat, ain't a hard place to miss, kid." He walked on up the road, giving her a firm pat on the back like a comrade in arms as he passed. He felt a little bad coming off as dismissive, but his mind was preoccupied with worry, wondering if that guy Steve hadn't sparked a war with these Raiders.
Adam nodded to Rook and looked over at the woman that began speaking to him, “Uh…apparently, we’ve got a nest of rodents nearby, and Steve decided to ruthlessly murder their messenger-boy.” She shrugged. “Nothing out of the ordinary.” and Adam frowned as the man named Steve was suggesting playing dress up with those bodies. "That's a dumb idea, hoss. They sit near our walls and they start looking at the bullet wounds, it wouldn't take a rocket scientist to put two and two together who's killing their boys." He kept silent on how he figured what'd happen and Steve spoke as he bent down, picking up a rifle by the raider's corpse,“With any luck they will blame each other for the attack and whilst they are busy getting revenge we can finish off the town wall.” Adam snorted, "Yeah, if they're drugged up rape fiend raiders. But if they're a band worth their salt, they're going to start sniffing around. Steve continued on, “Should also build some traps and turrets to guard us and any blinds pots we have until the wall is finished and then once built save us from having to man all of the wall 24-7." Adam nodded, "Yeah. That's one side. Take a look around you, we're surrounded on three sides by water. We'll still need foot patrols along the coastlines. Then there's the gate into town, that'll need siege reinforcements. Too many good towns have fallen overlooking the importance of a strong gate. Maybe weld sheet metal or weld some steel together and make something like those ancient castles. And a slit in the door that can be opened to look through when need be if there's no one on the wall."
Adam shook his head, upset all this fuss was over some dead wasteland raider. He turned to leave, accidentally bumped into the woman from earlier, "Er, sorry, Miss." After a few moments of her studying him up and down, she stepped forward and offered her hand, “Lorelei. Lorelei Jones.”. Adam nodded, "Right. Nice to meet you, Miss Jones. I'm Adam. You ever need anything, give me a holler. I own the white fishing boat, ain't a hard place to miss, kid." He walked on up the road, giving her a firm pat on the back like a comrade in arms as he passed. He felt a little bad coming off as dismissive, but his mind was preoccupied with worry, wondering if that guy Steve hadn't sparked a war with these Raiders.
@SkrtWithAWeaponHah. I ain't in no rush, so it's alright. I've been having fun working on defining my character. He started out as a quick CS and since then, I've been trying to really flesh out his backstory more while I wait for plots to be involved in since I'm not really wanting to shoehorn myself into other people's plots without asking, lol.
Adam 'Trails' Wilford- Adam's House
Adam sat on a stool over his cookfire preparing the dinner for later, glazing it with whiskey (and sneaking a swig or two) at times as he cooked the steak. After the meal was done, he took the pan from the over the fire and went inside to place it on the hotplate to keep it warm for later and went back outside to sit in front of the fire with his guitar. He sat for a minute, wondering what to play, before deciding to play the old blues song 'Down by the Riverside'. It wasn't long into the song when a loud collection of gunshots rang out and Adam stopped playing, looking south towards the entry to town. He shrugged, took another drink and began playing then notes to the song again but long forgot the lyrics. He stopped a second time, contemplating going going to see the commotion. He sighed a grunting sigh muttering "Whatever. Ain't got nothing to with me and I ain't no cowboy." and put the guitar beside the faded stool, walking inside and shutting the door, keeping his pistol unholstered just in case it was more than drunk idiots fighting. He stopped in front of the mirror as he was passing. He noted the grey in his beard, the lines in his face. Adam's face was grim as he touched himself, 'Look at you, kid. You've done got old no matter how young you might feel inside. Think of how many folk don't live past twenty in this god-forsaken world, you really going to let these kids in Salem throw themselves down? One more body given so you can live?'. Adam nodded and looked away, ashamed, "Nothing means anything to me anymore. The hell should I care?". Adam looked back at his reflection, locking eyes with himself, 'You know why, kid. You spent your whole life wandering and drifting. You've been here a few days and you're already meeting folks. Rook? Celeste? Ace?', his mind brought their faces to mind as his thoughts continued, 'Hell, son. You might even make Celeste your girl and you'd risk them all? For what? A few years hiding in a shack?'. Adam frowned, "Over twenty years of no real responsibilities. Last time I left the only responsibilities, I lost everything. Not again.". Adam picked up his rifle from under his bed and checked to make sure she was loaded and ran to the gates of town. He ran up to a woman with long brown hair, "Hey! What is it, partner? Bandits? Mutants? 'claws, God forbid?"
Adam sat on a stool over his cookfire preparing the dinner for later, glazing it with whiskey (and sneaking a swig or two) at times as he cooked the steak. After the meal was done, he took the pan from the over the fire and went inside to place it on the hotplate to keep it warm for later and went back outside to sit in front of the fire with his guitar. He sat for a minute, wondering what to play, before deciding to play the old blues song 'Down by the Riverside'. It wasn't long into the song when a loud collection of gunshots rang out and Adam stopped playing, looking south towards the entry to town. He shrugged, took another drink and began playing then notes to the song again but long forgot the lyrics. He stopped a second time, contemplating going going to see the commotion. He sighed a grunting sigh muttering "Whatever. Ain't got nothing to with me and I ain't no cowboy." and put the guitar beside the faded stool, walking inside and shutting the door, keeping his pistol unholstered just in case it was more than drunk idiots fighting. He stopped in front of the mirror as he was passing. He noted the grey in his beard, the lines in his face. Adam's face was grim as he touched himself, 'Look at you, kid. You've done got old no matter how young you might feel inside. Think of how many folk don't live past twenty in this god-forsaken world, you really going to let these kids in Salem throw themselves down? One more body given so you can live?'. Adam nodded and looked away, ashamed, "Nothing means anything to me anymore. The hell should I care?". Adam looked back at his reflection, locking eyes with himself, 'You know why, kid. You spent your whole life wandering and drifting. You've been here a few days and you're already meeting folks. Rook? Celeste? Ace?', his mind brought their faces to mind as his thoughts continued, 'Hell, son. You might even make Celeste your girl and you'd risk them all? For what? A few years hiding in a shack?'. Adam frowned, "Over twenty years of no real responsibilities. Last time I left the only responsibilities, I lost everything. Not again.". Adam picked up his rifle from under his bed and checked to make sure she was loaded and ran to the gates of town. He ran up to a woman with long brown hair, "Hey! What is it, partner? Bandits? Mutants? 'claws, God forbid?"
@2sky11I'll probably have him go by the church later. Instead, I decided to subtly begin unraveling his character a little, in this case, the origins of his nickname (not that he'll honestly tell people he doesn't trust how he got it, lol.)
((OOC: Lol, I hadn't checked the posts, so I failed to see you made a betty post before I checked the OOC. Thanks Sky!))
Adam 'Trails' Wilford- Ace's Diner
The waitress Betty looked at the Adam like he'd just dropped in from the moon, "Either you've been living in a cave for too long, you're out of town or you 're just having me on about not knowing what a synth is. Shit, the Insitute that used to exist till the Minutmen General blew it up, created them. Good for nothing eggheads with too much time on thir hands." Adam chuckled through his beard, "You caught me, ma'am. I'm an out of towner. New to the area. From the deep south to the, well, everything east of the Mississippi, really. Still not familiar with some of the local things that go on. I just came in out of D.C. to be honest. Can't say I cared for it much, either. Brotherhood clowns thinking they're the lawman around, more like a bunch of bullies you ask me."
Adam watched Betty walk off to the coffee maker, then come back to pour him a cup and scolded him, "Don't be Ma'aming me, old man. Do I look old to you." Adam made a small smile of amusement and egged her on a little, "I hope that's a rhetorical question." She shot him a dirty look then looked in an old mirror on the wall, making sure she hadn't aged and that she hadn't noticed. Adam looked down at the counter, feeling a little bad she took him so serious. "You look fine, Miss. Just having a little fun at your expense is all. I was just raised to be polite is all." Betty didn't say much to that and instead chose to walk over to stove and grill, and started preparing the steak he'd ordered. "You see the institute created things like him to look like us and replace us. You can't even tell em apart from human beings...well this one you can cause it's face is all messed up, plus when was the last time you saw a person with a red eye?" Adam paused, "Probably me when I looked in a mirror back in Atlant. Was completely drunk and on a gambling bender for two days without sleep on the casino strip by the boardwalk." He chuckled and cleared his throat, "But uh, I guess that wasn't what you'd meant, huh?" Adam was happy for his meal to arrive. He quietly at his steak, savoring its seasonings and preparation. After the last bite, he washed down the last of his coffee and put his caps on the counter, leaving an extra 10 caps for a tip. He stood up and straightened his coat, "Thanks for the meal, Miss Betty. Not many good cooks in the wastes, always glad to meet one of them." He gave flew his fingers off the temple of his head in farewell and stepped out into the late day air.
Salem
Adam made a deep sigh and inhaled the air, never ceasing to be tired of the beauty of that ocean air. He walked the streets, hands in his pockets, his mind a million miles off. He sat on an old bench and began contemplating his life, letting go of his wife opening a new perspective for him. The wind gently toyed with his hair as he stared off into the past. He thought of his days as a highwayman, wondering if she died because it was God's punishment to him for his wicked past. He vaguely remembered the cowering screams of men and women begging not to be shot as they jumped the bushes. Adam was the 'moral one' in his group, so he never shot a mark, but that didn't forgive it. His gut twisted at the shame he felt. All the times they'd robbed and plundered innocent caravaneers. When he left, he hoped to make amends, but he knew life didn't work that way. He kept that past hidden deep inside, how would other townfolk react if they knew that eccentric drunk that scavenged for a living used to be a thieving bastard and a Brahmin rustler? He didn't want to consider that. As far as he was concerned, that past was put to bed and the trader he'd been since his twenties was the man he is now. He leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees as he stared into the distance. He looked at a small picture of a young Adam and some of the men he used to ride with.
Adam felt a little guilty he'd sold them out. The lawmen in Kentucky were going to hang him and three others, but swore to let the one who sold out the gang out could go if they turned a new leaf. Adam was the one who broke silence. Even now, he could still hear Will yell 'You always were a weak-stomached son of a Bitch, Trails. We should've let you rot when you were bleeding out on that highway!'. Three days later, all nineteen outlaws were hanging on a noose, he was the one who escaped. One of the marshals looked at him, "That'll be you if you don't change, Kid. You're twenty, don't throw your life away.". Adam stared at the hanging men, each on a man who had at some point trusted him, considered him a friend. That was when he'd shaped up his life, started living upright. His finger gently massaged the jean fabric on his leg, contemplating that his life was built on the backs of nineteen outlaws. Then he sighed, "Each as rotten a bastard as the next, ain't no reason for me to feel bad." Adam muttered to himself as he got up from the bench. He eyed a small pile of discarded goods across the street, a small table and chairs. He only took two of the four and carried them back to his shed, contemplating how nice it'd help make his home look. Before he did, however, he threw down the picture of the men into the pile and shrugged, "No sense in them bastards keeping me down." he said, dragging his new furniture through the street to his shed.
Inside his seaside shack, Adam put the small table to a wall with a painting of Pre-War D.C. across from his bedframe. He looked through his boxes as he began planning for the night ahead and found it, a bottle of wine unopened and went over to the hotplate to start cooking a meal for two.
Adam 'Trails' Wilford- Ace's Diner
The waitress Betty looked at the Adam like he'd just dropped in from the moon, "Either you've been living in a cave for too long, you're out of town or you 're just having me on about not knowing what a synth is. Shit, the Insitute that used to exist till the Minutmen General blew it up, created them. Good for nothing eggheads with too much time on thir hands." Adam chuckled through his beard, "You caught me, ma'am. I'm an out of towner. New to the area. From the deep south to the, well, everything east of the Mississippi, really. Still not familiar with some of the local things that go on. I just came in out of D.C. to be honest. Can't say I cared for it much, either. Brotherhood clowns thinking they're the lawman around, more like a bunch of bullies you ask me."
Adam watched Betty walk off to the coffee maker, then come back to pour him a cup and scolded him, "Don't be Ma'aming me, old man. Do I look old to you." Adam made a small smile of amusement and egged her on a little, "I hope that's a rhetorical question." She shot him a dirty look then looked in an old mirror on the wall, making sure she hadn't aged and that she hadn't noticed. Adam looked down at the counter, feeling a little bad she took him so serious. "You look fine, Miss. Just having a little fun at your expense is all. I was just raised to be polite is all." Betty didn't say much to that and instead chose to walk over to stove and grill, and started preparing the steak he'd ordered. "You see the institute created things like him to look like us and replace us. You can't even tell em apart from human beings...well this one you can cause it's face is all messed up, plus when was the last time you saw a person with a red eye?" Adam paused, "Probably me when I looked in a mirror back in Atlant. Was completely drunk and on a gambling bender for two days without sleep on the casino strip by the boardwalk." He chuckled and cleared his throat, "But uh, I guess that wasn't what you'd meant, huh?" Adam was happy for his meal to arrive. He quietly at his steak, savoring its seasonings and preparation. After the last bite, he washed down the last of his coffee and put his caps on the counter, leaving an extra 10 caps for a tip. He stood up and straightened his coat, "Thanks for the meal, Miss Betty. Not many good cooks in the wastes, always glad to meet one of them." He gave flew his fingers off the temple of his head in farewell and stepped out into the late day air.
Salem
Adam made a deep sigh and inhaled the air, never ceasing to be tired of the beauty of that ocean air. He walked the streets, hands in his pockets, his mind a million miles off. He sat on an old bench and began contemplating his life, letting go of his wife opening a new perspective for him. The wind gently toyed with his hair as he stared off into the past. He thought of his days as a highwayman, wondering if she died because it was God's punishment to him for his wicked past. He vaguely remembered the cowering screams of men and women begging not to be shot as they jumped the bushes. Adam was the 'moral one' in his group, so he never shot a mark, but that didn't forgive it. His gut twisted at the shame he felt. All the times they'd robbed and plundered innocent caravaneers. When he left, he hoped to make amends, but he knew life didn't work that way. He kept that past hidden deep inside, how would other townfolk react if they knew that eccentric drunk that scavenged for a living used to be a thieving bastard and a Brahmin rustler? He didn't want to consider that. As far as he was concerned, that past was put to bed and the trader he'd been since his twenties was the man he is now. He leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees as he stared into the distance. He looked at a small picture of a young Adam and some of the men he used to ride with.
Adam felt a little guilty he'd sold them out. The lawmen in Kentucky were going to hang him and three others, but swore to let the one who sold out the gang out could go if they turned a new leaf. Adam was the one who broke silence. Even now, he could still hear Will yell 'You always were a weak-stomached son of a Bitch, Trails. We should've let you rot when you were bleeding out on that highway!'. Three days later, all nineteen outlaws were hanging on a noose, he was the one who escaped. One of the marshals looked at him, "That'll be you if you don't change, Kid. You're twenty, don't throw your life away.". Adam stared at the hanging men, each on a man who had at some point trusted him, considered him a friend. That was when he'd shaped up his life, started living upright. His finger gently massaged the jean fabric on his leg, contemplating that his life was built on the backs of nineteen outlaws. Then he sighed, "Each as rotten a bastard as the next, ain't no reason for me to feel bad." Adam muttered to himself as he got up from the bench. He eyed a small pile of discarded goods across the street, a small table and chairs. He only took two of the four and carried them back to his shed, contemplating how nice it'd help make his home look. Before he did, however, he threw down the picture of the men into the pile and shrugged, "No sense in them bastards keeping me down." he said, dragging his new furniture through the street to his shed.
Inside his seaside shack, Adam put the small table to a wall with a painting of Pre-War D.C. across from his bedframe. He looked through his boxes as he began planning for the night ahead and found it, a bottle of wine unopened and went over to the hotplate to start cooking a meal for two.
@2sky11Nah, that's okay, I'll go back and edit it in. That's alright. I'll have him in a new post wander about town a bit then head back home and continue repairing the shed so it's a proper little home.
@2sky11 Ah, I mistook her as a character, not an NPC. I'll make a post at some point when I can figure out what to do. Right now I've got no real plots lined up as I'm waiting in-game to get in those boat parts, so right now I haven't got much for Adam to do, OOC I was hoping stepping into the Diner might get him involved in a plot, now I'm not sure what to do. I'm not GRRM, so I'd rather not spend a whole post going into great detail over the meal he eats and then just have him go to the shed, lol.
Adam 'Trails' Wilford- Ace's Diner
Adam stood there, waiting to see if he could enter properly until Ace spoke,“Yeah, we are open… Betty help the gentleman out. I need some air.” He said, heading to a hatch. “Whatever, leaving me alone…again.”, the girl, Betty, said moodily. Ace didn't seem to be in the mood for taking lip, “That’s what I hired you for. Find out if the toaster would like anything, I’m sure there’s a can of motor oil for it somewhere.” he said, descending down the ladder. Betty turned to Adam as she smacked so gum, “Whatcha having old man?”. Adam seemed confused before he remembered why he'd came here. "Right. Coffee, black if it ain't too much trouble, ma'am. Maybe a side of Brahmin steak too". Adam walked over to an old classic red swivel seat at the faded countertop and put his head down on the counter, arm over his neck trying to fight off a headache and tiredness. When he looked up again, he looked over to Betty and asked, "So whats with the head chef there and that fuss? And what's he mean 'android'? That some kind of robot?", he hiked a thumb to the guy nearby, "He don't look like no RobCo product I've ever seen."
Adam stood there, waiting to see if he could enter properly until Ace spoke,“Yeah, we are open… Betty help the gentleman out. I need some air.” He said, heading to a hatch. “Whatever, leaving me alone…again.”, the girl, Betty, said moodily. Ace didn't seem to be in the mood for taking lip, “That’s what I hired you for. Find out if the toaster would like anything, I’m sure there’s a can of motor oil for it somewhere.” he said, descending down the ladder. Betty turned to Adam as she smacked so gum, “Whatcha having old man?”. Adam seemed confused before he remembered why he'd came here. "Right. Coffee, black if it ain't too much trouble, ma'am. Maybe a side of Brahmin steak too". Adam walked over to an old classic red swivel seat at the faded countertop and put his head down on the counter, arm over his neck trying to fight off a headache and tiredness. When he looked up again, he looked over to Betty and asked, "So whats with the head chef there and that fuss? And what's he mean 'android'? That some kind of robot?", he hiked a thumb to the guy nearby, "He don't look like no RobCo product I've ever seen."
Adam 'Trails' Wilford- His boat, 'Pride of Amalfi'
Adam came back to world with blurred vision of the deck of Pride in front of his eyes and his old Radiation King echoing out 'Just a Little Lonesome' into the sky. He crawled over to the side of the ship and vomited off the port side into the sea, the motion of the ship not coupling well with his whiskey hangover. Despite his better judgement, he reached for the bottle and took another swig before half-assedly rolling himself out onto the beach. The last thing he remembered after throwing his old photo overboard was pulling out an old bottle of the good proof and saluting the sky. Adam held his head, walking inside to drink some purified water and clean himself up, "Augh, I need...food...good food, not this crap.". He pushed a can of pork n beans away and composed himself enough to not be too obvious he was recovering from a booze coma and made for the diner. A loud gunshot rang out and Adam made a skillful dive for a wall nearby in town, taking cover and unholstering his 10mm pistol. His first thought was raiders as he waited, his heart racing in tenseness as he reluctantly prepared to fight. However nothing ever came after a while, so he was more than happy to holster his weapon. That dive took a little out of him in his state and he sat, rubbing his temples. Finally, he'd reached the diner, ready for some good food. Adam pushed open the door eagerly, mouthing in tune to himself 'always just a little blue'. The bell chimed and "Howdy, I..oh....", he stopped as he came in to the owner, Ace, yelling at some guy and a gun to him. "WHY SHOULDN'T I FILL YOUR BODY FULL OF HOT PLASMA!?" Adam looked over to Mayor Barney as he walked in after Adam and nodded, but Barney was apparently too focused on Adam to notice, "PUT IT DOWN! GODDAMN IT!" Barney yelled, then went to a lower tone, "He's a synth yes, but he's been freed by the Railroad. Salem once served as a safehouse for his kind." Ace seemed reluctant to do it, but he lowered his gun, "Now look here old man..." Before he could finish Barney raised his hand towards him, "I'm the owner, mayor, grand poobah of this town, and I say he stays...If you have a problem with that you can leave. After all, aren't you someone seeking refuge, escaping from your past." Ace, unhappy with Barney's decision, only replied with, "Whatever...If he goes berserk, it is on you old man. What are we supposed to call this glorified toaster?". Adam, unsure what to do, only cleared his throat, unaware of what was going on or what a 'synth' was, spread his fingers in a slow look of not trying to get involved, "Hey, uhhh, sorry to bother whatever is going on here, but are you open? I just want some chow, sir."
Adam came back to world with blurred vision of the deck of Pride in front of his eyes and his old Radiation King echoing out 'Just a Little Lonesome' into the sky. He crawled over to the side of the ship and vomited off the port side into the sea, the motion of the ship not coupling well with his whiskey hangover. Despite his better judgement, he reached for the bottle and took another swig before half-assedly rolling himself out onto the beach. The last thing he remembered after throwing his old photo overboard was pulling out an old bottle of the good proof and saluting the sky. Adam held his head, walking inside to drink some purified water and clean himself up, "Augh, I need...food...good food, not this crap.". He pushed a can of pork n beans away and composed himself enough to not be too obvious he was recovering from a booze coma and made for the diner. A loud gunshot rang out and Adam made a skillful dive for a wall nearby in town, taking cover and unholstering his 10mm pistol. His first thought was raiders as he waited, his heart racing in tenseness as he reluctantly prepared to fight. However nothing ever came after a while, so he was more than happy to holster his weapon. That dive took a little out of him in his state and he sat, rubbing his temples. Finally, he'd reached the diner, ready for some good food. Adam pushed open the door eagerly, mouthing in tune to himself 'always just a little blue'. The bell chimed and "Howdy, I..oh....", he stopped as he came in to the owner, Ace, yelling at some guy and a gun to him. "WHY SHOULDN'T I FILL YOUR BODY FULL OF HOT PLASMA!?" Adam looked over to Mayor Barney as he walked in after Adam and nodded, but Barney was apparently too focused on Adam to notice, "PUT IT DOWN! GODDAMN IT!" Barney yelled, then went to a lower tone, "He's a synth yes, but he's been freed by the Railroad. Salem once served as a safehouse for his kind." Ace seemed reluctant to do it, but he lowered his gun, "Now look here old man..." Before he could finish Barney raised his hand towards him, "I'm the owner, mayor, grand poobah of this town, and I say he stays...If you have a problem with that you can leave. After all, aren't you someone seeking refuge, escaping from your past." Ace, unhappy with Barney's decision, only replied with, "Whatever...If he goes berserk, it is on you old man. What are we supposed to call this glorified toaster?". Adam, unsure what to do, only cleared his throat, unaware of what was going on or what a 'synth' was, spread his fingers in a slow look of not trying to get involved, "Hey, uhhh, sorry to bother whatever is going on here, but are you open? I just want some chow, sir."
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