[color=00a651][u][b]Dr. Arthur West - Outside Salem Church[/b][/u][/color]

[i]"Rook is not here for fighting, Rook is here for living and trading. And Rook is building things. Doctor man has no need to check on Rook. Rook is more healthy than... ummm... very healthy humans!"[/i]

A mixture of complete confusion and surprise struck Arthur the moment the mutant spoke to him. The tone of the creature was...friendly, even warm. It was fascinating. With all his work on the FEV project, he knew that such a mutant that exhibited decreased aggression levels of this sort was a statistical outlier and an anomaly to be sure. Interestingly, the intelligence of the mutant seemed consistent with usual post-injection results. Were he back in the lab, he'd have isolated the subject and started running a battery of cognitive tests on him to test his mental acuity while also taking regular blood and tissue samples to try and isolate the cause of the passivity.   

Thinking quickly, Arthur pulled out a small notepad and pen he kept in his labcoat and jotted down a few shorthand notes. He couldn't help it, it was instinctual at this point. He knew there would be no point in keeping notes or records of any sort regarding a project that he'd long since been removed from by choice and by necessity, but he was still thinking of the science of it all. 

Arthur then watched the mutant lumber away and even shake hands with another human. He rapidly wrote down a few more notes and stuffed the notepad back into his labcoat. He'd have to keep his eye on this 'Rook'. He wanted to know what exactly made him so friendly to humans that the vast majority of his kind would have absolutely no qualms about attacking and consuming on the spot. 

With his thoughts still abuzz with questions, Arthur made his way over to the diner and took a seat at one of the stools at the counter, one which was the furthest away from the other patrons. Not necessarily because he disliked them, but because he always preferred to stay out of the way whenever possible. 

"Um, excuse me, Mr. Makovich?" He said politely, talking to the man he'd treated only hours, if not minutes, before, "Could I just get a regular Nuka Cola? If its not too much trouble."

Arthur could barely stomach most of the surface food he'd encountered. A life living off Institute food packets didn't exactly prepare his stomach, or his tastebuds, for wasteland cuisine. Nuka Cola at least, they'd had at The Institute. A favorite for the children. Although what they'd manufactured there tended to have quite a different taste from the 200 year old lukewarm beverages that surface dwellers consumed. Arthur wasn't quite sure if Bioscience had been following the old formula for the drink, but he guessed that they weren't. 

As he sat waiting, he heard the radio report about the Minutemen and their battle with a group called 'The Gunners'. He was intimately familar with The Minutemen, and only familiar with the Gunners insofar as he knew their reputation. He didn't comment on the news himself, but did listen in to some of the talk he heard from the wastelanders about it. 

[i]“Pttf...These Gunner morons have nothing compared to the Talon Company, Took all of the Brotherhood Tin-can forces, enclave tech and a surprise attack to take us out... these losers? Get beaten by a bunch of farmers playing dress up.” [/i]

Arthur wasn't exactly sure who or what exactly Talon Company was, but he wasn't about to underestimate The Minutemen. Not again, at least. Not when they were being led by...well...him. 

He grimaced slightly, at the thought of the man who'd betrayed The Institute, and his own child. Then again, the man could have quite easily executed Arthur. He could have slaughtered everyone in The Institute if he'd wanted, but he hadn't. He'd displayed a remarkable amount of diplomacy and compromise there. 

[i]Pity[/i], Arthur thought,[i] He might have made an excellent Director. [/i]