[u][b]Dr. Arthur West, Arriving Into Salem[/b][/u]

The walking had become unbearable, and Arthur had stopped to rest at a lonely rock alongside the broken highway leading up to Salem. The heat of the wasteland sun was beating down, and his hazmat suit was not keeping him cool whatsoever. Gently, he removed the helmet and breathed heavily as he tried to cool off,

"Damn the sun," He muttered to himself, as he wiped off his glasses which had become fogged up and laced with sweat. Now more than ever, he was missing the perfectly climate controlled environment of his home. Of The Institute. He missed his favorite little spot in the Bioscience atrium, where he would just sit and read for hours on end. Sometimes he'd wait until quiet hours began, and the artificial sunlights dimmed and the stars would come out, twinkling on the domed ceiling above him. 

Arthur closed his eyes and tried to picture it. He could see it as clear as if it was yesterday. When he opened his eyes however, instead of being back home, he was still in the blasted hellscape that he'd entered of his own free will. And his home was a radioactive crater in The Charles. 

His fists clenched for a moment in rage. Rage at the savage that had destroyed it all and sent his people to scavenge in a half-finished underground Vault. His grip quickly lessened however, when he reminded himself of just why such a fate had befallen them. And his own hand in it. Perhaps that was part of the reason he'd left Vault 88. It was difficult for him to face his colleagues knowing that his own actions had caused this whole mess to begin with. 

"I did what I was told to do," He whispered quietly, "The lab wasn't my responsibility. I was just a researcher."

Arthur knew that wasn't true though. He remembered how much he'd initially enjoyed working for the program. How he and Dr. Virgil both had excited themselves with the possibilities of what they were doing. The FEV had seemed like such limitless potential, and they told themselves that, indeed, it would be a crime [i]not [/i]to continue developing something so scientifically important. 

He sighed, and placed the hazmat helmet back on his head, before getting up to continue walking onward. As the ruins of the town approached, he popped a fresh microfusion cell into his pistol and examined it briefly. He'd gotten the pistol after successfully requisitioning it for personal defense once the regulations had been lessened. That had been when SRB had determined the volatility of things above ground might require such measures. He never thought he'd [i]actually [/i]need to use it however. Now, it was literally the only thing keeping him from certain death in this terrifying place.   

With his pistol ready, he entered the town slowly and cautiously. 

It seemed surprisingly quiet enough. He spotted the occasional wastelander here and there, seemingly new arrivals coming into the town just like him. They certainly didn't seem hostile and Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. He was tired of having run-ins with raiders. Which usually ended with him running as fast as he could in the opposite direction. 

He made his way over to the church, as it seemed like a good place to start and he made his way up to the second floor of the building, finding a small rectory office there, which had probably served as the tiny living quarters for the pastor of this church back before the war. Happy to have someplace to rest for a bit, Arthur began unpacking his things and setting up shop. He also changed out of the dirty hazmat suit he'd been wearing and put on the clean Vault-Tec labcoat that had come from a locker in Vault 88. 

Arthur didn't know how long he'd been staying here but he figured it was at least be a few days. Enough time to rest and resupply, speak to the locals, and assist with any of the settlement's immediate medical needs. He figured he might as well make himself at home for the time being though. 

His satchel had a number of odds and ends in it. Mostly medical equipment and surgical effects, but also his personal items. A few books he'd managed to salvage from his quarters, a journal he'd been trying to keep, and most importantly, a few seeds taken from Institute Bioscience. Which he was saving for the right time. These he all unpacked and place neatly in the rectory room. 

Finally, he unpacked the last nutritional packet he had. The Institute seal was still boldly printed on the outside of the box, and he ran it over with his fingers. He'd been saving this last one as long as he could. Surface food was downright awful, but he stomached it when it could and rationed out his nutritional packets as much as possible. He hadn't eaten anything for nearly a day and a half now though, so he gently broke the seal on the box and examined its contents. Rows of various colored pills were laid out neatly within it, and Arthur selected one of them with a tiny number 77 print on it. He plucked the supplement from the box and popped it into his mouth. He savored the rush of flavor it brought on and remembered better times. He felt much more energized now as well. 

Arthur closed the box back up and hid it away back deep within his satchel. The box was risky to keep around, but for some odd reason he couldn't bring himself to toss it, even if it was the obviously sensible thing to do. 

Now that he was feeling better, he made his way back down to the lower level of the church and talked to the man who look to be directing people to different parts of town. The man said his name was Barney and said he was part of the "Salem Milita" whatever that was. 

"My name is Dr. Arthur West," He said, introducing himself to the man, "If anyone needs medical attention, would you direct them to the second floor of the church? I'll be setting up a little clinic there for a few days while I rest here."