[center][b]Elysia Sykes[/b][/center]

Elysia’s heart stopped as abruptly as she did when the thug made his demands. However, in a matter of seconds, anger overcame her fear. [i]How could this goon act like he owned me,[/i] she thought, [i]and it’s not like I care about this Enclave guy anyhow.[/i] She tried to devise a plan on how she could take control of this situation, but she couldn’t see what sort of gun, or guns, this robber had, and where he was aiming. Things looked rather grim.

Elysia’s grip tightened on her assault rifle. She gave it a brief glance, quickly examining the weapon. It was in near perfect condition. She had cleaned it just a few days ago and was fortunate enough to not have used it since. [i]Damn, I don’t wanna use this here, but I need to act now[/i] she thought as she steadied her breath. This exchange could be her last, after all.

With a new-found resolution, she had decided that she would run in and try to kill this thug as soon as possible. Her heart raced as she felt another surge of adrenalin. She thought of her past, of the future she could lose in the blink of an eye. [i]This is no time to show fear,[/i] she thought as she envisioned her parents, but she quickly thrust that image away, not wanting to break down crying. She took a deep breath and prepared to run down the stairs. Elysia felt sweat run down her face as she took her first step. Slow, at first, but as soon as she made contact with the ground, she burst into a sprint down the stairs.

[center][b]THUD!

CRASH![/b][/center]

Elysia stopped dead in her tracks as she witnessed the two men’s bout. The Enclave soldier slammed the robber with enough force to send him flying through the side wall. She felt herself give a sigh of relief, although her body still seemed on edge. She walked slowly down the steps to examine the thug, aiming her weapon at him in the process. She didn’t have much to worry about, seeing as how the guy seemed to be unconscious, judging by his silence after muttering some curse and the stillness of his body, but she noted that some wastelanders had enough acting prowess to join a theatre troupe.

“Hey, Scott,” she managed to say, “wait up for me next time, ‘kay?” She gave a nervous chuckle as she tried to pry the bandit out of the wall, her assault rifle now hanging by a makeshift strap that ran around her neck and under her armpit. This guy was heavy, and it took most of her strength to try and get this guy out, as she eventually had to drag him out by his arms.

She sprawled the looter out upon a the stairs, having little regard for his well being. She didn’t bother trying to take off his gas mask, opting to sift through his backpack instead.

“No honor among thieves, my friend,” she whispered to the unconscious body as she opened his backpack. She didn’t really want to steal much from him. In a way, she felt some pity for the guy. Still, she didn’t hesitate taking some caps, food, drink, and ammunition, although only so much so that he hopefully wouldn’t notice.

Elysia picked herself up and closed her backpack, which had been a bit lighter just a few moments ago. She grasped her rifle once again, thankful that she didn’t have to use it. She dusted herself off, her masked face looking down upon the bandit. [i]What was his story?[/i]