[color=00aeef]FRIEDA RICHTER[/color] -- Brandy's house, late night

Brandy stretched and yawned, “Ya…yeah, I have food.” 

Frieda frowned, immediately feeling a pang of guilt for having woken the younger woman from a deep sleep.

Brandy sat up and scratched her head, “I could use a snack too, I never ate today.” She led Frieda downstairs to the kitchen and opened the fridge, “I loaded up on supplies when Shelby and I went to the sanctuary.” She opened up two different cupboards to show Frieda more options, “I don’t have a single cap to my name, but I have food,” she giggled. “Look at these Frieda,” she popped the top off a plastic container, “Fresh eggs, have you have had them?”

Frieda blinked.  "I...aheh.  No.  I haven't had them."  She didn't want to say, exactly, that she had no interest in trying an egg from a [i]wasteland[/i] chicken, but she knew she had to at least try and be..."open minded."

Brandy opened up a drawer and pulled out a box of Fancy Lads, “I love these things, you want some?” She opened up a package and wandered into the living room.

Frieda gingerly picked up the snack cake.  She was familiar with them, but her deeply ingrained training taught her that sugar shouldn't be the first thing she reached for when she was hungry the way she was.  She took a deep breath, pushing thos efeelings down, and followed Brandy to the living room.  

The younger woman was looking over her bookshelf full of books, eventually selecting one. She pulled out an old book and smiled, she held it up for Frieda to see, “This book has some good ideas for me to follow to make Ace happy.” She blushed and whispered, “Naughty ideas.” 

Frieda blushed harder than she wanted.  "Y-you...don't say..."

Brandy flipped through a couple of pages, “Like this here, wearing special outfits and stuff.” She let out a big yawn, “I’m going to go back to bed, just help yourself to whatever you want Frieda, I have more than enough for both of us.” As she got halfway up the stairs she stopped and turned around, “I hope the rooster doesn’t bother you, I’ll get him to quiet down after he wakes me up, otherwise he’ll keep being loud.”

Frieda finished her snack cake and found herself wanting more.  She already owed Brandy for the smokes, and the room, what would another cake do?  She plucked another one from the package and went out back to have a cigarette at the same time.  She stared up at the stars, feeling content about her current situation, though sad for her lost brother.

[color=fff200]MORNING[/color]

Frieda woke late, much later than she had been conditioned.  She opened her eyes slowly, hearing foreign sounds like water breaking upon the shore, and a breeze.  Her mouth had a weird taste in it, probably from all the sugar she had eaten the night before coupled with not having brushed her teeth before going to sleep.

[i]"And the smokes,"[/i] she heard in her brother's voice.

Frieda pushed the thought aside and rolled herself off the bed, rubbing her eyes with her fists as if she were a child.  There was a scent in the air.  Hot grease, and something else.  A smokey smell?

She stood up and stretched, listening to the different joints in her body pop and snap in response.  Frieda tied her long hair back into a ponytail.  She made her way down the stairs and found Brandy at the kitchen table with an ancient newspaper in her hand, picking at a plate of eggs, meat, and potato.  "Morning," she greeted the younger woman.  Frieda spotted the other plate sitting neatly on the table.  She glanced between the plate and Brandy.  "That's for me...?" 

Frieda felt a combination of awe and disgust.  She looked at Brandy, who was gazing at her expectantly, and knew she had to ignore her inhibitions and just take a bite.  She picked up the fork, took a little bit of potato, egg, and "meat" and put it all into her mouth at once.

The flavour and texture was good, even appealing.  She raised an eyebrow and tried desperately to forget it all had come from the wasteland.  Deep down she knew she was a surface dweller, now, and destined to become one of the mutants she had been conditioned to hate.  She chewed, swallowed, and took another bite.  Then, another.  Then, another.

"I don't know how to make all of this up to you," Frieda began.  "I promise you that I'll owe you one.  Or ten."

She pushed the empty plate away from her and looked out the window.  It appeared to be dawning into a beautiful looking day.  "I think I'm going to talk to Barney, see about being paid for this 'militia' he's starting up.  Otherwise," she tapped on the table twice with both hands, "I'm going to need to find myself a job.  Know anyone who could use a gal that can hit what she's aiming at?"