Frizan — Roleplayer Guild

Raphael was leaning against the wall of the wreck of a building across from Mick and Ralph's. He was waiting for someone, some jet addict named Stevenson. According to the Followers, he was one of the best doctors they had. The guy fell on some real hard times, and got a hold of jet from one of the people he patched up. In no time at all, he was addicted, scrounging up enough caps for three shots of jet weekly. After talking to some beggars, Raphael learned that his usual hit-up spot was in the back of this building, and he always came here on this day of the week, like clockwork.

Raphael saw two people pass him by, both going to Mick and Ralph's. The lady that went in had the look of an addict, but she seemed at least somewhat collected. The other one was carrying a bunch of loot. Standard Raider gear, like the kind the Fiends wear. It was a good thing people were still out in the wastes hunting those bastards down; Raphael knew he wouldn't be able to put down his old allies himself, and besides, he's more useful in Freeside working for the doctors.

"Where is this bastard? I mean I've got all day, but god damn..." Raphael sighed to himself and tried to get as comfortable as possible. He could be here for a while. Not like he wasn't used to this, he does these sort of stake-outs for the Followers all the time. Maybe he should go buy some new shoes after this job's done, since his current ones are really beat up and are showing signs of extreme wear. Wouldn't be long before they totally fell apart. Maybe instead of just buying new shoes, he could go see Stacey at the Fort? She's one hell of a....what did she call herself? A seamstress? Well, whatever she is, she's damn good at it. You could give her a bit of linen or denim, and she'll have a jacket for you in a few days.

Raphael's train of thought was broken by the sound of footsteps. They were heading into the ruined building, it must be Stevenson. "About damn time!" Raphael whispered to himself as he turned to the nearest entrance. He tried to avoid making a lot of noise; didn't want to startle the guy and send him running. As Raphael continued through the building, he heard the distinctive click of a jet injector; it came from the room to his left. When he entered the room, he caught Stevenson in the middle of preparing his second shot of Jet. "I wouldn't do that, man. That shit can kill ya dead real quick." Stevenson jumped up, eyes wide. "Who are you!? I-I don't have any money! And this Jet is mine, you hear!?". The man's fall from glory was obvious in physical appearance alone. He was balding, so he was clearly quite old, but Raphael wasn't sure how old; old enough to have strands of gray in his dark red hair. He had injection scars across his left arm, and above his scraggly, unkempt beard was a crooked nose; he must have broken it in a fight.

Raphael raised his hands in a gesture of peace. "Stevenson, right? Hey, the Followers sent me. They want you back, man.". Stevenson sat down and put his face in his hands. "I can't go back...I'm too far gone. I know the Followers are stretched thin as it is already, they don't need another addict to look after...". Raphael took the man by the arm and stood him up. "That's the thing! You aren't just 'another addict'! You were one of their best doctors. They won't care how spread thin they are or whatever, they'll help you. All you have to do is leave that jet behind, and go to the Mormon Fort.".

"But what if I relapse? What if I end up stealing supplies and contraband!? What if-" Raphael cut him off there. "Yeah what if, what if, what if. What IF you don't go? What IF you die here? What IF there are people over there that need your damn help?" He took the man outside of the building. "You see these people, man? Just how many would have died on a stretcher or overdosed if you didn't help them, huh? In that fort, there are people just like the people you helped before that need your help NOW." Raphael showed Stevenson all of his injection scars. "I've been down this road. But I was given a second chance, and I took it. Now I'm passing it along; I'm giving YOU a second chance. You gonna take it and go back to where you belong? Back to the Followers? Because this ain't you, you're a better man than this place will take.". Stevenson pondered this, staring at the Fort. He was silent for a few minutes, and then he finally spoke. "You're right...what the hell am I doing here? I gotta go....gotta go back to the Followers! Doctor Manuel Stevenson has to attend his patients!" Raphael patted him on the back roughly. "Hell yes he does! Now get over there and see the doctors. They'll have you back in action in no time."

Stevenson began making his way to the Fort, but turned around after a few steps. "Hey, I never got your name, kid. It's only right if I know who my guardian angel is." Raphael wondered if he should tell him his real name, and after a few seconds, decided Stevenson was a man he could trust with it. "The name's Raphael Daniels. And I'm as far as a man can get from a guardian angel." Stevenson smiled back. "Well whatever you are, thank you. If you ever need patching up, just see me at the Fort. You won't find a better doctor in the whole of the wastes!" With that, Stevenson carried on to the Mormon Fort and Raphael smirked with a faint sense of pride at a job well done. Raphael decided to stay at the front of the building, very slightly hoping for some action, but he mostly just wanted to watch the sky. Something he actually has never done in his life.

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