Cassie walked out of the small Tenpines bar, staggering a bit as she stepped down from the door; her worn leather boots kicking up some dust as she looked around a bottle of whiskey still gripped in her left hand. Her short coal black hair swept to the right with some kind of grease applied to hold it in place, across the left side of her face bearing three vertical claw shaped scars barely ending before her eyeball. Her combat armor securely strapped onto her body, painted black to assist in sneaking and for simple style points; beneath the armor she wore worn dark green army fatigues stitched together in various places her pants tucked into the long reaching combat boots she wore. 

Her eyes landed on Jake a self righteous minute man type, annoying dribble they were Cassie had run into more than once during her travels in the Common Wealth; sometimes non-violently and others happened to fall on her knife while they were asleep. But she had no quarrel with the minute men here yet no one had paid her enough to, as she approached Jake her hand brought the glass bottle into her lips finishing the harsh liquor and tossing the trash aside to shatter on a fence. Her raider built assault rifle hanging over her left shoulder by a cloth strap, several dozen tally marks etched into the wooden buttstock; the silenced 10mm holstered under her right armpit. The pre-war design making it a valuable weapon indeed and a trademark of Cassie's best work, she stopped walking about three feet from Jake looking him up and down taking in his form and sizing him up to an extent; standing at five foot ten herself. 

"So, got any decent shit to do for work? You minute men always have fuckin problems that need fixing."