[color=00aeef]FRIEDA RICHTER[/color] - Diner -- nightfall

"If...you don't mind me asking," He began, hesitantly, "Why did you leave The E.." He caught himself, "..your people..that is, what made you leave? You say you don't want to go back...why?"   

Frieda offered a sad smile.  "I appreciate your discretion.  It's one of the swear words in the wasteland, but understandably so.  Not many surface rats -- [i]folks[/i], I meant folks, live to tell about when we come to town."  She pushed some hair off her shoulder and sat up a little straighter.  

"I had a brother, a twin, born eight minutes after I was.  We shared some sibling resemblance, but other than that, he was quite a bit different than I.  More serious.  Stronger, more resilient.  He was quickly recruited for field ops, but I was more apt towards detail and the technical, so I was trained as a pilot."  Frieda realized she was getting off track.  "He was my best and closest friend.  Probably the only one I had, in the end.  He was favoured, I'm sure you can understand, because he was smart, strong, and quintessential...uh, tribe."  She made sure to avoid the dreaded "E" word, as well.  She smirked, again.  "I never married, hardly dated.  Men and women both almost always just tried to use me to get closer to him."

"Despite all that, though," she continued after another sip of beer, "he and his entire team went missing after an operation, and all they did was write him off.  'Missing, presumed dead.'  He was one of the best in [i]generations[/i] and no one gave a shit to look for him, let alone get his body back for a proper ceremony."  Frieda clenched her fists and blinked back angry tears.  "It just made me sick.  Heh," she chuckled, "it still does."

She sniffed and flipped her bangs across her forehead.  "Everyone moved on, almost like he'd never even existed.  His shadow was lifted off of me and my life but I was still almost invisible and no one seemed to care that he deserved better.  Hell, that I deserved better.  So, I decided to search for closure, myself.  If they wouldn't care, I would show Brian that I at least did.  That I [i]do[/i]."

“Hey doc," called a voice from outside.  Frieda turned to see Steve standing there with a corpse slung over his shoulder.  "I found you a blood bag, I’ll leave them at the clinic for you.”

Frieda took a slow breath, held it for a moment, then exhaled.  Once the doc had responded and Steve had walked off, she continued.  "Honestly, even if I wanted to go back, I'd be shot dead at the door.  But if things don't work out, I just might go knocking.  I'd rather be executed than die at the hand of...of one of them," she nodded towards the door, heavily implying a reference towards Steve.

"Would you both shut up?" hissed the rude waitress.  "We're all tryin' to listen to the news."

Frieda stuck her tongue out at the waitress, then glanced over at Arthur to roll her eyes and wink.  She hushed herself, though, to let the broadcast play through.