Prizrak

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Thomas Kater
Salem, Massachusetts



“Thank you sir.” Tom quickly headed out of the diner. On his way out it dawned on him that all of Eliza’s gear was on her horse. He stopped and unfastened the straps on the leather saddlebags. Inside were most of the things he would assume Eliza needed to survive, her hat, duster, underwear, revolver, ammunition. Something definitely wasn’t right, this whole thing reeked of a trap. Tom pulled his piece from it’s holster and checked the cylinder to confirm it was loaded, he placed it back into his holster and headed off towards the church leaving the horses tied up by the diner. He was keeping his hand close to his revolver, something wasn’t sitting right with Tom. It was like he was missing something, like there was another piece to the puzzle. Regardless Tom had a lead and he had to take it, the man behind the counter didn’t seem like the kind of guy to bullshit him at first glance but he was still on his toes as he entered the church.

On his way in he passed two people, a man and a woman. Both of them gave off bad vibes to Tom but maybe it was because he was on edge. He just walked past them acknowledging that he seen them.
“Evening.” Tom was short and headed towards the partially opened door checking over his shoulder to see if the duo was following him. He creaked the door open and he froze in his tracks at what he saw. Initially he recoiled at the sight too afraid to come to terms with what he might find, but Tom found enough courage to go inside. His voice was weaker than it normally was, and for a man of his pedigree fear was something he rarely felt but it was clear in his voice. “Eliza?” There was another woman knelt beside the bed comforting Eliza that drew Tom’s attention for a brief moment. He didn’t know anyone to treat Eliza the way the woman was, and he didn’t know Eliza to take to it. She must be in really bad shape, or her and the woman were close. “Eliza it’s me...Dutch.” Tom paused before he said who he was, still filled with the guilt of leaving her and the Riders behind.

Eliza and the woman slowly turned to face him, Eliza was having a hard time of it but she tried. She was obviously weak as her voice was severely strained and quiet. “Dutch?” He removed his hat and held it over his heart while he knelt down beside the bed, nodding to the woman and sharing a look of concern with her. Tom placed his free hand on Eliza’s shoulder. “It’s me Lizzy.” He tried to crack a smile as if he was remembering a better time, but tears started to gather in the corner of his eyes. Eliza looked at him with broken eyes. She hadn’t seen the man in front of her for years, and she was still having a hard time believing that it was actually him. “I can’t believe you’re here. I thought you were never coming back.”

Tom placed his hand on Eliza’s head, gently brushing her hair in an attempt to comfort her. “I know I rode off on my own path Eliza, but it lead me back to you. I just wish I had gotten here sooner.” Eliza grinned at his retort before she closed her eyes again and exhaled slowly, shivering in the process. She was obviously too weak to do much of anything so Tom turned his attention to the woman alongside of him. Her face was red and streaked with tears, Tom gently placed his arm around her shoulders patting her back. He didn’t really think about what he was doing, he was just acting off of instinct. “I’m Dutch. We used to...work together. I take it you’re close to Liz...sorry Eliza? Sometimes I forget she doesn’t like to be called that.”

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Thomas Kater
Salem, Massachusetts



This was it, the sleepy ruins of Salem where the trail finally ended. Thomas had been following it for too long with each sign of Eliza and her pursuer filling his heart with dread. He had seen so much death on his journey here, so many of his comrades gunned down and left to rot in the dirt. Out of respect he gave each one of them the burials they deserved in doing so he noticed that all of their dog-tags had been claimed. He had hoped that meant Eliza made it this far but how long could she run? It had been at least a year since he picked up the trail in Utah. Eliza was tough but a year in this country without proper rest would take it’s toll on anyone, even her. Now Thomas was just looking for bodies and with them answers.


Coming from the north side of town Thomas quickly fell upon the sign of a struggle much like the ones he found on his way here. Eliza was a fighter, and whoever was tracking her down was making her bleed for it. Spatters of blood littered the field he and his horse were standing in. His heart sunk as he assumed the worst. Thomas dismounted his horse and knelt down in the muck to better investigate the scene. There were two sets of footprints just like there had been since they crossed the Mississippi. Where the rest of the Rough Riders gave their life’s in an attempt to buy Eliza time. Thomas followed the trail and the blood towards the sea, a light wind blew in off the water and carried with it the all too familiar stench of death. Thomas dropped the reigns for his horse and bolted towards the shore, stumbling over his feet as he struggled to stay upright in the muck. His heart was beating a mile a minute, and he was afraid to see who he found at the end of the trail. After all this time Tom would’ve gave anything for it not to be Eliza. He regretted every day since he left his life with the Riders behind, now more than ever. He couldn’t help but beat himself up over the idea that maybe things would’ve been different if he was there when his comrades were attacked.


Here he was….if he found Eliza in this puddle of blood Tom wasn’t sure if he could walk away from her, not again. She was the only one that really cared for him, and he re-payed her with betrayal. Tom removed his hat and held it over his face in an attempt to shield himself from the stench before he slowly peeked out from behind it. It wasn’t her, it was August Bragg. They rode together when they were kids, busted rocks in the chain-gangs, and joined the Riders together. Finding Bragg laying in the mud was a blow to the gut. Thomas balled his fists in anger and kicked his old friends corpse in anger.


“You son of a bitch! After everything these people did for us!? Fuck!” Tom fell to his knees alongside Bragg’s corpse staring into his lifeless eyes, frozen in terror. He couldn’t contain his emotions and started to tremble and cry. “All these miles and I didn’t once think it would be you. What did I do when I walked away?” Tom scooped his hand underneath Bragg's corpse and lifted him into his arms. He carried him to the base of a tree with a broken limb and began to dig a grave with the shovel from his horse. When he was finished he gently laid Bragg at the bottom, closing his eyes, placing two caps in his hand, and laying his hat on his chest before saying some final words. “You were my brother. After all we had been through together I never thought this would be how things went down.” Tom paused for a moment as he grabbed a shovel full of dirt. “I just hope it was worth it brother.”


After shovel after shovel full of dirt Bragg’s grave was filled in. Tom grabbed a rock from nearby to mark the spot and grabbed his horse. He still had to find Eliza, she must have been the one that killed Bragg. After all this time he was still afraid to face her. He loved her desperately but never confessed it to her, it wasn’t his place. Things between them could never be like he wanted them to, and he had a feeling Eliza knew how he felt. She could tell when he got anxious around her, she was too smart not to know. Regardless Tom came here to atone for his sins, and Eliza was the only one that could absolve him. His quarrel was with her, not God.
When Tom got into town he quickly spotted Eliza’s spotted horse outside the diner. His heart began to race again as he wiped the sweat and grime from his brow, his hands trembled and his legs felt like they were about to give out on him. He still made his way to the diner tying his horse alongside hers, but he noticed the blood covering Eliza’s horse and immediately knew something was wrong.


“Hey buddy. You remember me right?” Tom gently brushed the horse’s snout. “What happened huh? What do you know?” The horse gently nuzzled Tom with it’s snout, recognizing him from before. Tom rubbed the top of it’s snout again before he headed inside for answers. Things seemed rather busy inside, it wasn’t Tom’s scene there were too many people and none of them resembled Eliza. He still headed inside and walked up to the counter where a man was scrambling to serve all of his patrons. Tom ignored all of the background noise and chatter, but politely waited until the man wasn’t busy.


“Excuse me sir!? You wouldn’t know anything about that horse outside would you?” Tom’s voice was friendly but his concern was poorly masked by his manners. "I'm looking for his owner. She would've been dressed similar to me, with her hat pinned on one side. She's not really talkative but you'd have a hard time forgetting her."

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Prizrak, this is what you sent me yesterday right? I'm good with it.

@f8lcobra

I just tweaked a few things in regards to his past, but yes it's the same sheet.

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Thomas Kater

Thomas Kater

Gender: Male

Real Age: 37

Age Appearance: Appears to be in his late 30’s or early 40’s

Birth-date: October 7th, 2253

Birthplace: Bonnie Claire, Nevada

Personal Evaluation

Occupation: Mercenary

Work Ethic: Tom is a hard working man but very rarely does anything without the proper motivation. He needs to either believe in what he’s doing or be getting paid enough to believe in it. Although once put on a task Tom is hard to dissuade from completing it.

Experience: Rode with a gang of cattle rustlers and raiders in his early years. Spent time incarcerated in an NCR labour camp before escaping. Served with Eliza Weaver and her Rough Riders after escaping NCR custody. Tom is a damn fine rustler. He can shoot just as well as a trained soldier, survive off the land, bullshit his way out of a confrontation, and fight his way out one if he fails.

Organizations/Affiliations: Formerly affiliated with the Rough Riders, he parted ways with the mercenaries and went freelance.

Preferred Weapons: Colt .45 Single Action Army, although Tom has a better shot with a rifle.

Habits and Mannerisms:

Medical Evaluation

Ethnicity: American/Caucasian

Blood Type:

Preferred Hand: Right Handed

Eye Color: Light blue

Hair Color: Dark brown

Hairstyle: Trimmed short and well kept.

Facial Hair: Clean shaven with only the occasional scruff.

Skin Tone: Pale white with some tanning.

Complexion:

Body Type: Mesomorph

Build: Strong athletic body type, muscular build, well-developed shoulders and slim hips.

Height: 5’11” (180cm)

Weight: 153 lbs (69kg)

Shoe Size: 10

Birthmarks/scars:

Energy: Not nearly as motivated as he could be. Tom has enough energy, and is in good enough shape that he doesn’t get worn out very easily and can work harder and longer than most people. Although he would much rather spend most of his time relaxing. Either reading, writing, or playing guitar.

Senses: Tom is pretty good at reading people’s body language and adapting his personality to better the situation. He’s also gotten very good at sensing trouble, whether it’s an actual skill of his or just dumb luck has yet to be determined but he swears by his gut.

Addictions: Regularly smokes cigarettes, rarely drinks alcohol.

Mental Disorders: Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Insomnia.

Attitude: Calm, and reserved Tom isn’t normally the one to start trouble. He keeps to himself when he can but has no problem making new friends or sharing a drink with a stranger.

Biographical Summary

Tom was orphaned as an infant having lost both of his parents to tuberculosis. A local mission took him in and raised him until he was a teenager. At that point Tom had become restless and developed one hell of a mean streak. He wanted to get out and explore the world, he was tired of staying within the confounds of the mission. So the missionaries let him leave, once he left Tom quickly fell into trouble. Deciding that the best way to earn his fame and fortunes was behind the barrel of a gun. Young and reckless Tom took to the lifestyle of a desperado pretty quickly.

He rode with a gang for the greater part of his teenage years, causing havoc for the local citizens of the NCR and independent ranchers. Eventually his gang was caught. Most of them were hung while some of them like Tom were thrown into a chain-gang building the railroad for the NCR. He was to work in the gangs until he died and for a few years he thought that’s what his fate was, until word got around that a band of mercenaries called the Rough Riders were raising hell in the southwest. Tom didn’t know much about them besides what he heard in stories from the other convicts but he knew enough to know that he wanted a piece of the action.

Over the next few months Tom and a few other convicts plotted their escape. Under the cover of a riot Tom slipped out and headed into the desert. He didn’t know where he was going or how he would get there but he was going to find the Rough Riders. Eventually he bumped into Eliza pouring enough booze down her throat to embalm her whole body. At the time he didn’t know who she was, to him she just seemed like a woman who had found some hard times. He drank with her, and gave her someone to talk to. The poor woman was wasted and she spilled some of the horrible things that had happened to her onto Tom. He immediately felt sympathy for her, and when she told him who she was Tom’s desire to join the Rough Riders was galvanized. There was something about Eliza that he couldn’t resist, she was beautiful and Tom definitely wouldn’t turn down a night or two with her but there was something more about her. He couldn’t pin down what it was but he couldn’t escape it.

Eliza was more than willing to let him join the Rough Riders but he had to go through the rigorous entry process just like everyone else. It was much more difficult than Tom ever could have imagined and he learned right quick that these weren’t your everyday cattle rustlers. If he completed his training he would be riding with professionals, men and women who were at their peak. At first Tom was afraid that he was getting into something that he wasn’t sure he wanted. After all he had only ever ridden with criminals and hustlers, people with no claim to fame but the amount of women they’ve raped and men they’ve killed. But the Rough Riders changed him, gave him something to strive for. He admired everyone that earned the title, and gave everything he had to earn it himself, and earn it he did. Tom was amazing, he didn’t quit, and he gave everything he had in his training and long after that while he rode with the Riders.

It was this dedication that drew Eliza’s interest in him. She seen a part of her in Tom, he was motivated, dedicated, and fiercely loyal. All of those quality's earned him a spot close to Eliza. At first Tom didn’t know how to react, to be so close to someone he admired meant everything to him and over the years he and Eliza grew close. Their relationship was never sexual, even though Tom wanted it to be. He knew that if it wasn’t meant to be then it wasn’t going to happen. So the two of them became very close, closer than anyone had ever gotten to Eliza. She seen him as family, and Tom seen her as family as well. It was this relationship that kept Tom close to Eliza. They served well together and Eliza enjoyed having someone so close to her that she could relate to. Unfortunately Tom parted ways with the Rough Riders, at some point he lost interest the lifestyle of a mercenary. He had no one he loved, and no place to call home. Tom had started to feel the need to settle down and build a life for himself before he couldn’t. So he took to freelance work to support himself and struck out into the wasteland looking for a life. Years had past and there was no sign of Tom settling down, he found out pretty quickly that he didn’t mix well with women. Just talking with one turned him into a bundle of nerves, so he had all but gave up on finding someone to spend the rest of his life with. Once he got word that Eliza Weaver and the Rough Riders had been wiped clean off the face of the earth Tom abandoned all plans of settling down. He refused to believe that they were all dead, so he took back to the lonesome trails of the wasteland. In search of the only woman he’d ever been close to.

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Eliza Weaver
Salem, Massachusetts



Eliza couldn’t believe that it was actually her, after all this time it was her. What tears Eliza had left to cry slowly trickled down her exhausted face. She mustered enough strength to speak but her words were soft and her tone was forlorn. “Shelby?” Her voice was weak and it was clear that she was trying as hard as she could just to speak. “All of this time, and here you are.” Eliza struggled to hold Shelby’s hand but she managed to, even if her grip was feeble and cold. “I missed you so much…..I’m so sorry.”

Shelby’s grip was much different than Eliza’s, it was warm and strong, bringing Eliza comfort she had long since given up on finding. “You’re all I have left Shelby…..everyone else…they’re dead.” Eliza started to weep uncontrollably, her emotions were starting to overwhelm her. “I'm so sorry.......” She couldn’t speak any more, her body had reached it’s breaking point. Her eyes shut for what felt like the first time in her life while her shallow breathing continued. Eliza had someone to live for again, and the life that person meant for her but death still sought it's quarry. Except Eliza no longer embraced her death, she didn't want to die......not now.

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Eliza Weaver
Salem, Massachusetts



A heavy groan escaped Eliza’s lungs as the man picked her up from her bed and threw her over his shoulders. During the process a sharp pain from her abdomen caused her to reel in pain and let out an exhausted grunt as she clenched her teeth and waited for it to subside, but every step and bump sent a searing pain through her body. Her greatest fear was that the wound had busted open again and that she had started bleeding again. She had already lost too much blood, anymore and she would definitely die. At least she was able to find some solace in the fact that she was being transported to some sort of clinic. Unsure of what state a clinic this far from civilization would be in. Eliza figured her odds would be better with any doctor, than on her own. Even with Lorelei to help her there was only so much that could be done.

As they exited the apartment building Eliza was certain that her abdomen was bleeding again, with there being a sudden sensation of warmth radiating from around the site of her wound. Even with the warm spot Eliza was still freezing, now more than ever. She was only wearing her panties with a soiled shirt making the cooling temperature of the coastal town much colder to the exhausted woman. Eliza could tell that she had yet to escape death’s frigid grasp. “What was this all for? All of this effort, for me….why? Wouldn’t it have better to finally die? I stubbornly cling to this life like it has anything left to give me. I’ve reached the end of the line…everyone else has gone. It’s just me now, just me.” Eliza hung on those last words. “Just me….. yep, that's all there was now. I made sure of that. So why I’m I so stubborn? Death is my only salvation, the only way to absolve my soul from my sins. Just stop fighting Eliza! Give up! Your day has come, just let go and all your pain will go away.” Eliza’s breathing had slowed down dramatically with puffs of frigid breaths being the only immediate indication that she was still breathing at all. Her eyes hung heavy as she slowly started to drift off into unconsciousness.

“Shelby…!”

Eliza’s reaction to the familiar name was slow in her current state. She could barely make out what the man was saying but when she raised her head to catch a glimpse at his she couldn’t help but feel like she recognized him. Her heart began to race as if she should remember him but she couldn’t, not now at least. It was becoming too difficult for her to keep her eyes open but with what little focus she had left Eliza locked her eyes onto the man. She must of known him because now he was stopped dead in his tracks staring back at her like he had seen a ghost. Eliza’s head slumped down over Steve’s shoulder and she zoned out. Everything from that point on was a blur, she only heard the occasional footsteps from the man carrying her and with her eyes closed from exhaustion she couldn't see anything. It wasn’t until she was laid out onto another bed that she slowly opened her eyes again and sighed. Unsure of what fate had in store for her Eliza struggled just as much to stay awake as she did to remember the name of the man she had just seen.

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

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.

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

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…...

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Eliza Weaver
Salem, Massachusetts




Eliza snapped back into consciousness as the woman did her best to revive her. Instinctively Eliza reached for her weapon but she was too weak to raise the revolver up to defend herself. She was having a hard time getting her bearings after everything that happened, and her wounds were still bleeding. It was everything Eliza would do to try and keep herself awake. Her eyelids felt like they weighed a ton, and her head was spinning so fast she felt like she was going to hurl. She began to mumble through the haze in her head, her unlit cigarette falling onto her lap.

“I’m…yeah. No, I’m not alright. This is a lot of blood.”

Her wounds showed no sign of healing themselves, and Eliza wasn’t too keen on the idea of going to see a doctor. In her opinion, everything a doctor could do for her, she could do for herself. Except now she was willing to admit that she may need a little help. She was starting to shiver and her skin was cold and clammy. Shock was setting in and with it her death. As much as it hurt to swallow she was fortunate that this woman came poking around and found her.

“I’m not going to make it to the clinic. You can’t move me like this, and I’m pretty damn close to passing out again.” She could feel herself slipping away again, she needed to stay awake. She had to walk this kid through this. “I’ll talk you through what you need to do. Alright? Before we start though can you light me that cigarette, and don’t let me fall asleep.”

Lorelei furrowed her brow but did not question Eliza’s judgment. She reached for the cigarette that rested on her thigh and propped it back into the woman’s mouth. She reached for her lighter and gave Eliza a smoke. After the rather odd request had been carried out, Lorelei shook Eliza’s shoulders again to ensure she hadn’t drifted back into sleep.

Lorelei reached into her pack and retrieved the small amount of medical supplies she had on her – tourniquets, a roll of bandage material, and a nearly-empty bottle of disinfectant. “I know the drill, but what do you want?” Lorelei peered down at Eliza, studying her face and her labored breathing. She looked highly durable, to say the least. She was not reacting heavily to her gunshot wounds and the woman’s muscle-tone was quite apparent.

While waiting for Eliza to articulate her plans, Lorelei re-did her bun, catching the loose strands of hair that had fallen onto her forehead for the task at hand. She rubbed the back of her neck and took a deep breath. It had been some time since she had needed to do anything of the sort to another person. She had been alone for a very long time and it hadn’t been necessary since her youngest years.

Eliza took a long draw on the cigarette reducing half of it to smoldering ash before blowing a plume of smoke out of her nostrils. She was still shivering as she smoked her cigarette to calm her nerves. Eliza knew exactly how to treat injuries like the ones she had so that’s not what bothered her. It was the fact that she was placing so much into the hands of someone she doesn’t know.

“Okay...”

Eliza let out a low sigh as she started to talk through the cigarette in her mouth. “I’m going to need to lay down first. My calf needs to be over my heart, that’ll slow the bleeding down. Although first we need to get my pants off.” Realizing what she just said might’ve thrown of the women Eliza stayed serious and explained why. “We’re going to have to tourniquet my leg and we can’t have clothing getting in the way of it.”

Eliza undid her belt and handed it to the woman. “Use this as a tourniquet. I’ve used it before and it’s the right size. No offense but yours looks too wide, and I don’t know how well you can tie them off.” She shifted her weight to try and lay down but the pain in her abdomen was sharper than she thought it would be. She reeled with pain as the ashes from her cigarette fell onto her and started to burn holes through her clothing.

“Shit!” Eliza quickly brushed them off her and finished off her cigarette before snuffing it out on the floor. “You’re going to need to help me lay down.

Lorelei did a double-take upon hearing Eliza’s request, this one every bit as outlandish as the last, but her confused expression settled into a slow nod. “Okay.” She quickly wiped away the falling ashes the best she could. She set Eliza’s belt onto the ground and took a deep breath. She crawled over to Eliza’s side and cradled her arms around her back. She gently assisted her to the ground, using her own arms to cushion the very slow descent into the floor.

“So…you want…okay.” I’ve got this. Lorelei did the work herself, unbuttoning Eliza’s jeans and attempting to pull them off, gripping onto the material and tugging. She did everything in her power to avoid being distracted, attempting to keep from lingering too long in the action and getting it over quickly, but she could not escape a slight awkward blush as she worked. It was going to take a good deal of effort to get Eliza back to health.

“Help me, you’re going to have to wiggle out of them a little bit…can’t do it all by myself.”

Eliza took her hand off of her abdomen where she was attempting to slow the bleeding from her wound and put both arms at her sides, hands flat on the floor while she pushed back and away from the women. After a minor struggle and more pain Eliza’s pants were off and she clasped her hand back down on her abdomen causing blood to seep in between her fingers and run onto the floor. With her pants removed Eliza was now getting cold enough for her to start shivering. What little body heat she had left escaped into the frigid blood-soaked floorboards of the decrepit building.

“Alright….” Eliza started to nod off. It felt so good to just fall asleep.

Lorelei inspected the damage – the bullet had traveled straight through her leg, mere inches above her knee, leaving a grisly wound behind. She noticed that Eliza had been somewhat spared her decency by her pair of underwear, but her attention returned to the wound. Eliza began to drift back into sleep.

Lorelei shook Eliza’s shoulders again and huffed. “Don’t you drift off on me. This will be no good if you’re asleep.” She grimaced. “Not that this is *good* to begin with.” She reached for a piece of cloth from her pouch. “This will not feel so good, but I need you to lift your leg.” She entered a kneeling position. “Balance it over my shoulder and I will apply pressure to the wound.” She gently grabbed a hold of one of Eliza’s calves and began to lift it. “You will have to do some of the rest, I am afraid.”

Eliza left out an agonizing scream as she lifted her leg onto Lorelei’s shoulder. She was fighting the urge to blackout again, this time from the pain. “Oh… fuck, I need another smoke!” Eliza kept her hand firm on her abdomen hoping that the bleeding would stop soon. She had balled up the lower part of her shirt and was using it as an impromptu dressing on the wound, although now it had been soaked through with blood. At this point Eliza was starting to pass out again, she had spilled too much of her blood. For the first time in a long time she was afraid, afraid that she was going to die. She reached out to grab Lorelei’s arm with her blood-soaked hand, but she had lost the strength she needed to hold onto it.

“I’m sorry that you have to deal with this…but please...I don’t want to die alone.” Eliza’s eyes started to well up with tears before they ran down the sides of her face.

Lorelei did not oblige upon Eliza’s wish to have another huff of her cigarette. She methodically pressed the piece of cloth against the bullet wound and took another deep breath. Upon Eliza reaching for her hand, smearing blood across Lorelei’s forearm in the process, Lorelei gripped the slipping hand and held onto it. “Hey. Hey,” she said in a mellow voice. “You’re going to be fine. I’ve got you.” She smiled and her eyes attempted to meet Eliza’s, although she was probably in a far too great deal of pain to look up at her.

“You won’t die on my watch.”

Why it hadn’t occurred to Lorelei to scream for help, she had no idea. But she hadn’t the slightest clue what this woman had gotten herself into…if anyone was after her, or if she had been attacked by someone in town. She knew what it meant to need to be subtle. She kept the crisis between the two of them.

Eliza’s tear-filled eyes met Lorelei’s, they just stared at her searching for strength that Eliza was quickly losing. Her hand faintly gripped Lorelei’s, she didn’t want to let go but she could feel herself losing control of her hands. She couldn’t apply the pressure she needed to on her abdomen anymore so more blood was rushing from the wound. With what last bit of strength Eliza had she tried reaching for the dog-tags she had dropped when she crawled inside the building, but they were just out of her grasp. She let out a pathetic sigh as she closed her eyes, and lost consciousness again. Her hand slipped from Lorelei’s grasp and fell to the floor, causing a slight splash when it disturbed the crimson pool of blood around her.

“No, no, no. You’re going to be fine. Stay with me.” Lorelei kept firm pressure against the leg-wound and grimaced. She had no clue where this compassion for this nameless woman had erupted from, but she looked so strong, yet so completely helpless in unison. It reminded her of herself, perhaps, in the days when power beyond her control took her health and her happiness away from her. There was something about her that evoked a protective urge that she wasn’t quite aware she still possessed.

Lorelei shook Eliza again, to no avail; she received, at least initially, no response. She kept the woman’s leg balanced over her shoulder but reached forward, lifting the blood-soaked fabric-line of her shirt and revealing her belly, the other bullet wound clearly residing in the corner. She grabbed another piece of cloth from her pouch and applied pressure. This was all she could do, now. Press against both wounds, and hope to god that they would clot…that she wouldn't bleed out. Eliza was adamant against sending for a doctor, even in the face of death. It was this, or nothing. She frowned and took deep breaths. “Please. Stay with me.”

Lorelei, yet again, received no response. In turn, the wounds had clotted -- the blood flow stopped, but not before Eliza had lost a decent deal of blood. A pool of it resided under her. Lorelei gently set Eliza back down and moved her slightly over, away from the pool of blood that had accumulated onto the floor. She had gotten plenty of it on herself -- on her arms and on her jeans from where she sat. She wrapped a fresh piece of cloth around Eliza's leg-wound and sat next to her, watching her from the side. Eliza's figure sank to the side, her head falling onto Lorelei's shoulder.

This entire outing had been strange and complex -- Lorelei had shared what could be death (or a near-brush-with-it) with someone she barely knew. But being as close to the end as Eliza was, Lorelei seemed to have gotten a magnifying glass on this woman's being without having even shared so much as a conversation with her. She sat there and held a rag against Eliza's head and moving the woman's stray strands of hair out of her face. There was nothing left she could do except wait and hope she hadn't failed this new friend of hers. It was her first day. She was no medic, but she did not want to fail her.

Many tense, quiet moments had passed until Eliza regained consciousness. She awoke to find her head slumped onto Lorelei’s shoulder, her warm body drew Eliza closer to her. She was freezing and felt too weak to stand, and as shameful as it made her feel she positioned her arm across Lorelei’s waist and attempted to pull herself closer to her.

Eliza was too weak, with every movement making her feel as if she was about to lose consciousness again. So as much as she wanted to pull herself closer to Lorelei for warmth she couldn't. Even to speak seemed impossible, to her it seemed like she couldn't form the right words in her head. So, she left her arm draped across Lorelei's lap, it was lifeless and cold like the rest of Eliza's body all her strength had been sapped from her and scattered across the now soiled ground.

All Eliza could do was continue to lay her head on the woman's shoulder. Its warmth was pleasant, but not enough to revitalize Eliza. She started to shiver again, and without any control over her body her teeth began to chatter. It was these signs as well as Eliza's faint, shallow breaths that let Lorelei know that the woman she fought so hard to save was still here with her, for now.

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Eliza Weaver
Salem, Massachusetts



A thick morning fog was rolling off the Atlantic and was beginning to blanket the wicked coast of the Commonwealth as Eliza came to. Her vision was blurry at first and the more conscious she became the more she hurt. Once she could see more than fog and throbbing shadows it wasn’t long before she realized where she was at. She was standing on a rickety wooden chair, her clammy hands bound behind her back while a thick noose dug itself into her neck . Eliza couldn’t remember just how she got where she was but she knew why she was here. A man dressed in a long weathered trench coat, and cowboy boots was standing a few feet away from Eliza. He’d gathered up most of Eliza’s valuables and was preparing to pack them onto her horse.

“So you’re going to hang me? 3,000 miles, and this is all I get. Why don’t you just shoot me?” Eliza’s voice was strained as the noose constricted her throat but even in her current state her tone conveyed that she was far from backing down.

Her angel of death turned to face her, a sinister smile cracked across his grimy face. He spoke to her like a friend, almost like at one point in their lives they were friends. Although that time was long behind both of them. “It’s nothing personal Eliza. This is how we do things back home remember? Don’t tell me that after all this time you forgot how we do things back west?”

Eliza’s feet were starting to slip off the chair as it lost it’s balance on the rough terrain beneath it. She kept a calm head and used what time she had left to get some answers off of the man that hunted her down, and finally caught her. “I’d call this pretty personal Bragg. You gunned everyone else down like they were stray dogs. It feels to me like you’re just playing with your catch.”

He walked closer to Eliza a drew his revolver, pressing the frigid barrel against her chest. “Oh honey don’t be so cold!” He cocked the hammer back and pressed his revolved even harder into Eliza’s chest causing her to nearly lose her balance and kick the chair out from under her. “All those others I killed chasing you down, they were just obstacles. I got paid to kill you and only you. I didn’t want to, but I sure as hell couldn’t turn down that bounty.”

There was a fire in Eliza’s eyes as she stared down the man holding a loaded gun to her chest. A bead of sweat ran down her forehead and dripped onto her already stained shirt as she tried to maintain her balance on the rickety chair. All the while both it and the decrepit branch above her groaned under the stress. “Is that all they were to you!? Obstacles? You fought with those people! Bled with those people!” Eliza’s voice cracked from the strain and the metallic taste of blood filled the back of her throat while she tried to yell. “I thought you were better than this!”

“We were both better than this Eliza. A long time ago.” Bragg uncocked his pistol and placed it back into his holster. His cold, heartless smile was replaced with a grim painful expression. Almost as if he was fully realizing what he was about to do. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Sorry for what?” Eliza’s heart was racing at his sudden shift in demeanor. She knew what was coming next even if she refused to believe it. Her last words quivered from her lips, as if his answer would make her satisfied with her death.

He didn’t give her the satisfaction of an answer. Bragg kicked the chair out from under Eliza, and while she plummeted towards the ground the tree branch snapped before the rope pulled taught enough to snap her neck. Startled Eliza immediately clambered to her feet and darted away towards the wilderness. Bragg was just as caught startled but he managed to draw his revolver and fire a round into Eliza’s back. With a sharp scream of agony Eliza collapsed to the ground mid sprint, her face smashed against the cold morning ground. She tried to regain her footing but another shot whizzed over her, and forced her back to the ground. It took everything she had to crawl using only her legs in an attempt to make it to cover, but Bragg caught her again. He came down on her with his full body weight, pinning her to the ground on her stomach. Eliza couldn’t move away from him, this was it. She could feel the gun barrel pressed against the back of her head, and she winced in anticipation for the shot. She knew she wouldn’t hear it, but she knew it was coming. Bragg grabbed Eliza’s dog tags from the back of her neck and ripped them loose, clutching them in his free hand.

“I’ll add these to the rest of my collection that you were so kind as to give to me.” He stuffed them into his pocket with the rest of the dog tags of all the Rough Riders he killed. All of Eliza’s comrades and friends he slaughtered. She saved their dog tags so they would never be forgotten, now they were nothing but trophies. Now that’s all she was, another head to hang on his wall. “I tried to make this easy for you Eliza, but I still respect you. You’ve got a stubborn head, and an iron heart. It’s a shame you’re the one she sent me to kill.”

Spitting grime from her mouth Eliza strained to respond through the pain and the pressure Bragg was placing onto her lungs. “She? I thought you worked for Coe?”

Even after everything he’s done up until this point it was obvious that Bragg was still struggling to answer her. “Charlotte hired me Eliza.... my days with Coe are over with.” He didn’t need to elaborate. Eliza knew just the Charlotte he was talking about, and it cut Eliza to the bone.

“Then do it you son of a bitch! Blow my fucking brains out!”

“I’m sorry Eliza I wanted this to be quick. For your sake. Lord knows you’ve suffered enough.” Bragg shifted his weight to take the shot and Eliza slipped out from under him. This time she made it close enough to the rocks she was aiming for that when Bragg shot her again she was able to roll behind them for cover. “Will you just fucking die!” Bragg followed Eliza’s trail of blood into the rocks. At this point she broke the rope restraining her hands, and slipped into the slick saturated soil of the coast. Bragg’s second round ripped through Eliza’s calf and she was bleeding heavily.

“Fuck!” Eliza clasped a hand on her wound and tried to stop the bleeding but the blood gushed from underneath her hand and mixed with the mud beneath her. “Looks like I’m dead anyway.”

Bragg found her curled up in the mud, her back against a rock. She had the look of a trapped animal on her face, and he was ready to end her suffering. He took his foot and kicked her onto her back, placing his boot between her breasts crushing her ribs. Eliza was struggling to breathe, but her adrenaline was still racing. She locked eyes with Bragg refusing to let him see her defeated. With her good leg Eliza kneed Bragg in the groin and shifted her weight up snag his revolver as he went down. As he hit the ground she already had his gun, and fired a shot into his chest as he tried to stand back up. He let out a scream as he crashed back down to the ground. Eliza crawled her way over to him and watched as he clutched his chest struggling not to choke on his own blood. She dug her bloodied hand into his pocket and retrieved the bundle of dog tags. Struggling to stand up Eliza started to walk away, gritting her teeth with every step. Bragg tried to talk to her but it was just gargling blood. When she looked back at him he was crying, his hands outstretched as if begging for mercy. A few words managed to escape his blood filled throat, but they were interrupted by the sound of him choking and struggling to breathe.

“Ple..ase, not…..li..ke. Eliza….please!” While he struggled to speak his tone was clear. He was begging for her to put him out of his misery. She even thought about it, she felt bad for him. Even after everything she still felt bad for him. After all the two of them weren’t that different in the end. It was that familiarity that Eliza used to rationalize why it hurt so much to leave him there alone in the cold slurry of blood and grime. She turned her back on him and walked away making it back to her horse. Everything from that point on was a blur. She secured her stuff onto her horse and managed to crawl on top of it. Fortunately the horse was smart enough to know where to go when she smacked it’s hind end because she was slipping in and out of consciousness, blood still pouring out of her leg and her gut. She managed to make it back to her hideout, falling off of her horse and crawling inside one of the windows. Probably the same one Bragg drug her out of. Eliza only managed to prop herself up against the nearest wall, and attempt to light a cigarette before she completely blacked out in an ever growing puddle of blood.