[color=00aeef]FRIEDA RICHTER[/color] - Salem -- early evening

“Oh Frieda, if you’re looking for Brandy, after we finished she said she was going over to the inn. Who knows why…” Ace replied as he turned to make his way back to bar, he addressed Rick,  “Come on new boy, first drink on the house, if you can handle it.”

Frieda clamped her jaw shut, her irritation about to hit a boiling point a second time, and didn't want to engage.  Darkness and fear?  Has he looked around, lately?  Defenses were one thing, but it's not like the surface was much of a paradise.  Clearly she was mistaken that Ace could have a reasonable head on his shoulders.

[i]Moronic muties and their attempt at civilization.[/i]

Brandy was a sweetheart but it was a wonder she hadn't been ripped apart by, well, anything out there, yet.  

She almost felt homesick.  Mostly, she missed her brother.  It was amazing how alone a person could feel without their best friend.

Frieda opened and closed her hands.  "Oh, okay," she tried to sound grateful to Ace but had no idea how her voice really came out.  She turned back to Arthur once more, her demeanour visibly changed.  "I'm going home to raid Brandy's fridge, then I'll be at the diner, if you still want that drink."  She finished her cigarette, flicked it to the dirt, and quickly took her leave.

Frieda entered Brandy's house and pulled the screen door shut behind her, letting out her aggravation in a growl-sounding sigh.  [i]If I had a single iota of a lead as to where you could be, Brian, I'd torch this place and run to you.[/i]  She rubbed her brow with the back of a hand and swept into the kitchen.  She nearly stumbled as she saw Brandy had been cooking.  Some kind of crunchy coated animal protein was sitting on a baking sheet on top of the stove.  

She cautiously approached the food, leaning over it, and giving the air immediately above it a hearty sniff.  It sure smelled...edible.  Her stomach growled in response but her mind screamed to avoid it.

It just looked too damn good.

Frieda picked up a drumstick and took a very small and cautious bite.  It wasn't long before she was tearing through the entire thing, leaving nothing but a fully cleaned and discarded bone behind.  She chewed on the last of the cartilage as she gazed out the window into the sky.

[i]Mutie trash, all of them.  Well, except Brandy, but damn if I didn't want to punch the living daylights out of her date back there.[/i]  Her thoughts immediately jumped to the doc and how he happily treated that wasteland scum without charging them a dime.  

She frowned.  If she was going to be stuck on the surface for the rest of her life, maybe Arthur had some advice to share on dealing with the wastelanders.  She wiped grease off her fingers onto a nearby dishcloth then ascended the stairs to her room.  Frieda quickly snatched up her plasma pistol and put it on her belt, where it belonged, brushed her hair out in the bathroom, then left for the diner.

Frieda entered the diner and sat herself at the bar.  A girl, no older than eighteen or nineteen let out an annoyed sigh, and tapped a pen on a paper pad.  "Whaddaya want, toots?  The boss told me to close up."

Frieda blinked.  "Do you want my business, or not?"

"Ugh.  So what do you want?"

"I'll take a beer, and it's on his tab," Frieda pointed at Barney sitting down the bar.

"It sure as hell is [i]not![/i]" Barney growled in response.

"Take it out of my first pay," Frieda replied, waving him off.  "Beer.  Now."

The girl rolled her eyes and plunked one onto the bar in front of her.

"Thank you," Frieda purred, smiling to herself as she noticed the waitress didn't even open the bottle for her.  She twisted the cap off with little effort and took a sip.  She hoped Arthur would take her up on her offer.  She needed some intelligent conversation.