[b]Summer - Salem Diner[/b]

Summer nodded. Salem. She was headed in the general direction of this small-town for the Children of Atom. “Infestation is...a bit of a term,” she mused quietly. “They’re irradiated weirdos and tend to be hostile, but I wouldn’t put them down as pests.” She was gently mopping up her own wounds with patience and focusing on making sure she didn’t just bleed out in the diner. Some other man entered, called Steve, and made a dismissive remark about her state. His nonchalance seemed to placate Summer; at least there are still assholes out there in the Commonwealth, even as far off as Salem. “Don’t fucking carry me?” she suggested sharply, frowning with alarm. “This right here is damaged goods, you’ll probably rip an arm off or something if you try to drag me out to a clinic.”

Then some other lady wandered in and introduced herself as Brandy Brooks. Summer stared at her in bemusement as she welcomed her sorry ass to Salem and confirmed that they indeed had a clinic, but then seemed to mock her miserable state by only focusing on Summer’s broken nose as if that was the biggest issue at the moment. She quirked a brow and gave Brandy a deadpan stare but before she was able to make a snide remark, Brandy had fucked off to start yelling at Steve. “Woooow,” she whistled lowly and then started to snigger, another series of faint wheezes coming from her corner of the diner.

Another woman entered and Summer immediately felt a kinship towards her because she made the snide remark that Summer kind of wanted to then immediately sat far out of the way so nobody would bother her. If Summer was in better shape, she would’ve done the same...but needs must. Whoever that lady is, she won Summer’s respect.

And then the doctor arrived. Summer also liked this man. No bullshit conversation starters, no introductions, just sitting down and getting the fuck to work. The only words he said were the important ones; there’s a lack of medical supplies and she needs to be carried. The last thing Summer wanted to be was a back-seat doctor, but she fidgeted uncomfortably at his sense of urgency. “Is it really THAT bad…?” she asked slowly, hesitantly adding “I mean, I haven’t passed out yet. That’s a plus. The worst part is I’m meant to be a medic myself, if those fuckwads hadn’t taken my stuff.”

Luckily, someone volunteered to help out and Summer immediately regretted being so nice to these strangers. The guy looked like he was used as a chew toy, with the intelligence of one of the wet rags Summer had pressed onto her torso. Nevertheless, a man with that many scars probably knew how to stitch up a cut or two and that was all Summer could really ask for, given the circumstances. She also had to admire his straightforward attitude to the situation too. She wanted to say ‘you look like a dumbass but you’re being more helpful than the majority of the people in this building’, but couldn’t put it into words that wouldn’t offend anyone, so she decided on simply smiling at the doctor and Royce and firmly saying “thanks.”