[color=00aeef]FRIEDA RICHTER[/color] - edge of town -- night

Frieda had been staring off between two directions, watching for any indication of movement coming towards the town.  Instead, her ears picked up movement from behind her.  She glanced around just to see Steve and...someone else coming up from town.  The latter was carrying some kind of ballistic hardware, but the dim moonlight made it hard to see what it was.

[i]That's what I get for not carrying a flashlight.[/i]

“Hello Possible paramilitary woman Frieda do not be alarmed it is me Steve and employee Edgar, we are just setting up this turret I built to help with raider attacks.” Steve and his colleague, Edgar, drew up next to the car.

"Well isn't that [i]fantastic,[/i]" Frieda replied, with a healthy dose of cynicism.  She shifted her position to lower her knees and sit cross-legged, instead.  "Make sure you set it up to point into the road and not towards me, or the town, all right?  Can you handle that?"

Edgar stood awkwardly and seemed to blush at her words, until Steve waved at him to drop the turret.  Once dropped, Steve began to positioning the turret behind one of the other wrecked cars which.  Frieda lit another cigarette while she watched, idly aware of the fact she only had a few left in her pack.  Something about Steve and Edgar made her feel like she just wanted them to finish up and get the fuck out.  “Ideally this turret will be placed on the wall, once it has been finished of course." 

"Yeah, well, I don't exactly know that I care for the idea of a super mutant voluntarily walling us all in," she muttered.

"The chair is to fool people into thinking it’s a machine gun position only for it to fire on them when they get close...Although for now I guess it will give you a place to sit.” Steve chuckled on, completely as if he wasn't even listening to her.

[i]What fuckery is this?[/i]  Frieda closed her eyes and shook her head.  "I'm [i]already[/i] sitting."  The way he tittered and babbled made her think he'd dipped into some of the wasteland sort of 'boosters' she had lusted after some time before.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Waylon's approach.  “Mind if I join you? I brought us a couple of beers and goodies.”

"Not at all," she replied quickly, before Steve or Edgar could attempt a response.  "Steve, here, has dropped off a turret, or something like that."  Frieda waved him over.  "Steve, have you met Waylon?  He runs the weapons shop.  I'm sure he has the know-how to make sure your turret shoots at the right sorts of people.  You can leave it."  She flipped her hair over her shoulder.

"Whoa," she began, accepting a beer from Waylon and eyeing up his rifle.  "That's a sweet looking piece.  Do you mind?" she held her hands out, Steve and Edgar completely forgotten.

"You know your shit," she smiled slyly, handing the rifle back, after having turned it over in her hands a few times.  Frieda took a sip of the beer.  "Oh, cheers, by the way.  Anyways, seems most folk somehow paste together whatever they can find that will fire a bullet.  I stick to my pistol, more often than not.  It's just what I'm used to."  She pat the spot next to her on the rusted hood of the car.  "You comin' up, or what?"

"So, how does a girl like Brandy not know how to handle a gun properly, yet she's friends with the town quartermaster, huh?" Frieda smirked, taking another sip of her beer.