SkrtWithAWeapon

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

FRIEDA RICHTER - Salem

“Maybe,” Brandy shook her head. She rifled through her purse and pulled out a small flashlight, turning it on she dug for her pistol. “We can’t walk after dark without these.” Brandy stumbled off the curb, accidentally shooting a round from her .22 pistol; the bullet whirred in the air away from them. Quickly Brandy looked down the front of her and wiggled her toes, “I’m OK,” she raised her arm, “I’M OHHHHKKKAYYYYY!!!” she looked at Frieda and giggled.

Frieda gently, but firmly, took the pistol from her hand. "Let me hang on to that, all right?" She snapped the safety on and popped it into her belt.

“You’re right, we don’t need that we have each other.” Brandy pointed, “See that gray house right there, that’s mine. “She looped her arm through Frieda’s and led her to her house. She fumbled for her keys then unlocked the front door, “Welcome to my house,” she escorted Frieda inside to reveal a well cleaned and organized living room. “That picture on the mantel is my Grandparents brother and me,” she had shelves neatly placed all around with an eclectic collection of antiques and knickknacks. She pointed at a dashing young man in an uniform, under the picture hung a purple heart, “That’s my great…” she paused in thought, “Not sure how many greats, but that is my Great Grandpa, he was in World War 2. The Purple Heart was because he was shot while overseas in Germany. He must have been a magnificent and brave man. Maybe if we have time tomorrow I can show you my photo albums. There are a lot of amazing pictures in them from before The Great War.”

Pre-war military history! Now, that's interesting. Frieda leaned to gaze over Brandy's shoulder and take a closer look at the photo. "Yeah, sure, we can do that tomorrow sometime."

Brandy sat her purse and keys on the kitchen table, “The bathroom is down that little hall on your left, there’s another upstairs too. Are you thirsty? I’m making a mutfruit and vodka, would you like one?” She flipped on the light above her sink after sitting down a jug of mutfruit juice and a bottle of vodka.

Frieda looked at the beer she was still holding, but didn't want to be rude. She had no idea what "mutfruit and vodka" even was. "Okay, yeah. Thanks." She glanced around the kitchen while Brandy played bartender.

Suddenly, Brandy looked out the window and paused. “Frieda, I think someone’s sitting outside.”

"Like, a raider, or something?" Frieda's hand went to her plasma pistol. "Do you want me to go check it out?"

Brandy paused, again. “That…that might be Ace.” Brandy opened a drawer and pulled out two straws, placing one in each drink, “Excuse me Frieda, I don’t mean to mean rude but I have to see who that is.”

Frieda watched the young woman snatch her drink and leave through the front door before she could say a single word. Now, standing in a stranger's kitchen, with two drinks and nothing to do, she wandered back out to the living room and looked over the photos again. Brandy had a brother, too, I see. Older, from the looks of it in the picture. She took a sip of the cocktail and recoiled so violently, she nearly spilled both drinks all over the floor. "Noooooo thanks," she said out loud, placing the cocktail onto a nearby end table. She spent a couple more moments looking over the photos and posters before settling herself onto the couch with one of the pre-war magazines lying around.

The door banged open and Brandy burst in, clutching her empty glass, flushed, and out of breath. “Frieda, FRIEDA!!! He said yes,” she gushed. “You were right, I did what you said and asked him and he said YES,” she bounced then ran over to Frieda and threw her arms around her dropping the glasses. “Thank you, you are the nicest person I’ve met in…forever. I need to wash up and get some sleep, Ace is going to be up early and he wants flowers and chocolates. Do you know where I can find some?” Brandy pressed her lips together, “I ate all my candy the other day.”

Frieda's mouth opened and shut a few times, trying to respond to everything Brandy said. "Ahh -- well -- awesome! I'm glad it worked out for you." She rubbed her brow. "Wasn't there a funny looking trader in the diner? Tom, something? I bet he'd have some chocolates, or at least know where to find some. We'll figure that all out tomorrow, okay?"

Taking Frieda’s hand, Brandy led her upstairs, “Your room is right there on the left, mine is right next door and the bathroom is over there. Like I said, I’m right next door if you need anything, you can wake me up OK?”

"Heh, all right," Frieda chuckled. "I'll make sure to wake you up if I have a bad dream."

She hugged Frieda, “Thanks so much again.” Brandy went to the bathroom, and Frieda entered her room. Frieda dropped her bag and began to unbuckle her razzmatazz collection of light armour, feeling several pounds lighter for having shed it. She yanked the elastic out of her hair, letting her locks fall down beyond her shoulders and sighed. She had pulled off her sweaty t-shirt and was shimmying out of her cargo pants when Brandy popped her head back in.

“Goodnight Frieda.”

"Night, Brandy. Put a glass of water by your bed, okay?" She smiled and closed the bedroom door behind her, then rifled through her bag for a clean shirt.

Fruitless search. None of the few items she'd managed to scavenge after her week or so in the wasteland, proper, were clean. She sighed, a pang of homesickness hitting her just then.

Idiot, Richter. You're gonna cry over fucking laundry, now? Get it together. Frieda picked out one of the softer shirts she'd found and slipped it on just for bed. Another pang hit her, but something more banal. She opened her door and tiptoed to the bathroom to use the toilet. As she sat there, staring at the faded wallpaper, she thought she heard Brandy talking.

"...his name is Ace, and I think you and Grandpa would really like him. He is sweet, a good cook and a businessman. I’m really excited to see where it goes, he is such a great guy, and I’ve known him for a little bit, he was here in Salem when I came to town. I am getting my beach house to look nice, it’s been a lot of work, but it has been so worth it. Tomorrow I’m going to show Frieda how relaxing the sand and ocean can be, you guys would like her too.”

Frieda blushed, realizing she was not meant to have heard anything that she had, and quickly finished up before scurrying back to her room. She stretched out onto the bed and sighed contentedly. The stained mattress definitely beat sleeping on the ground. She reached up to twiddle with her dog tags, to find they weren't there.

Of course they weren't. She'd taken them off days ago.

She felt physically exhausted and yet lay on the bed for several minutes, unable to fall asleep. Her stomach growled, loudly. She realized she'd had nothing to eat since earlier that day. Frieda pinched her eyes shut and tried to tell herself to itnore it, that she'd find some breakfast in the morning.

Her stomach growled again as response.

Dammit.

Frieda got out of bed and found herself in Brandy's room, shaking the younger woman awake. "Hey. Brandy? You don't have to get up but do you have anything to eat? I'm starving and can't get to sleep."

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

FRIEDA RICHTER - Salem Diner

"Oh, that's okay. It happens a lot, since I'm short, and all! I'm used to it." Celeste looked back to Brandy. "Yeah, there's a robot that is left over from the war, when the place was an old folk's home. Poor thing had been stuck in some rut for years. Didn't realize its tenants were dead!" She shuddered. "I don't want to see another skeleton for the rest of my life, I'll say that."

Frieda chewed the inside of her cheek to stop herself from making a snarky reply. The woman next to her clearly was extraordinarily...special.

“How did you get a robot out of rut? It must be heavy, did somebody help you?” Brandy sighed, “Yeah, we should properly bury the skeletons, they deserve that much. I can only imagine the things they saw during their lifetime.”

"Hmm? Oh, it was in some kind of, uh, digital loop. It kept doing the same thing over and over. It said something about an update...ha, ha! I don't try to understand," Celeste replied, finishing her soup.

"For what it's worth, I have...uh, experience working with robots, so I know a bit about them. I might be able to help you out, if you need it," Frieda offered, politely. She glanced back at Brandy and saw a look in the younger woman's eyes.

Ace saved the day by placing another beer in front of her and declaring it was on the house. She nodded thankfully and accepted.

“Hold my beer and watch this," Brandy said, sliding her beer over the bar to Frieda. Before the blonde could say anything, Brandy got up, marched herself behind the bar to Ace and planted a kiss right on his lips. Frieda raised an eyebrow as she noticed Ace was startled, but didn't pull back.

"Damn, girl," Frieda smiled to herself, finishing the second beer and placing the empty on the counter. Brandy sauntered back to her stool and nearly missed it entirely. Frieda thrust out her hand to catch the younger woman, but Brandy managed relatively well enough.

"All right," Frieda cooed, picking up the last beer and gently guiding Brandy off the stool. "I think it's about time we get you home." She stooped to pick up her duffle bag and nodded at Celeste. "Nice to meet you. Brandy and I will stop by your inn tomorrow."

"Say 'goodnight,' Brandy," she said as she led Brandy from the diner. As soon as she was outside the building, she pulled out her smokes and lit one up.

"I'll say, I wasn't expecting you to do something like that, but...good for you," she praised Brandy as the strolled through Salem. "Definitely gave him something to think about, anyways." Frieda paused, realizing she had no idea where she was going. "Er, sorry. You should lead."

In From The Fog: A Fallout Far Harbor Roleplay

CORRINE DOOLAK - The Gun Shop

“We might just have gotten a working switch.”, Castner replied to her.

"Great job, Corrine", Steve said, "James found a switch for us, just got done putting it in. Well...here goes nothing", then flipped the switch. Corrine dashed over to his side, eager to see if the fix had worked. The green light on the device immediately turned on, and the needle in the gauge moved, raising up noticeably when he aimed it in a North-Westerly direction. He smiled triumphantly. "it works...all that remains is to test it. Turn the radio on and set it to Military AF-47...when you key the mic the meter should spike when we point it that way."

"I got it," she answered, stepping back over to the radio and fiddling with the dial. "Okay, there it goes. Anything?"

Steve stared at the device with a serious look on his face. Through the Ham radio's speaker, a steady beep from the signal could be heard.

"It works", Steve said happily. "if we had the time using the tracker and the radio we could probably triangulate the position to within a stone's throw but time is something we don't have. If we're going to get the armor and weapons, at least, we need to go in the next few minutes. Once everyone's back, we need to go if we're going to do this. What do you guys think?" Steve asked in concluded.

Time slowed down for Corrine. The very thought of going out into the fog, after dark, terrified her. It raged against her very fibre. The fog was dangerous decades ago, in the best of times, and no sane person would go out in it for any reason in the dark.

A large lump formed in her throat and she felt the blood drain from her face. Her entire being screamed NO.

If you don't go out there now, you'll die tomorrow. If you do go out there now, you could die, now. Ain't much difference,
is there?

She glanced towards Steve, still waiting for a response. Corrine took a slow breath. "I'll...go get my things. Be back at the gate in thirty minutes."

Corrine made her way back to her bunk in the common house one more time. She retrieved her spear and considered leaving her duffle bag behind, when she groaned and snapped it up. It never hurt to have some carrying capacity and a few tools. Following that, she wandered back to the town gate, and waited.

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

FRIEDA RICHTER - Salem Diner

Brandy took Frieda’s hand and led her to the bathroom where she quickly checked herself in the mirror. She wet the corner of a hand towel and wiped at the beer stain. “Would you really kick his butt? I...kinda stink at this stuff really."

Frieda squished herself against the back of the door, realizing much too late that the "facilities" weren't meant for more than one person to really use at at time. She felt as though she were practically standing on the toilet while Brandy leaned over the sink and stood in front of the mirror. "You bet I would. That's what friends are for, right?"

Brandy sighed, “Ace seems too good to be true. Honestly, you seem like his type. You're confident, pretty, and it sounds like you could handle yourself...I can't."

I have a feeling I'm no one's "type," especially anywhere on the surface. "Don't say that, Brandy. You're plenty attractive yourself, and if you are talking about handling a gun, that's not magic. I spent years, aheh," she chose her words very carefully, "well, just practicing, over and over. I had to learn, just like anyone else. It's not really that special."

Brandy frowned at her reflection, as she rifled through her purse and pulled out a brush and ran it through her hair. “Guess I'm just scared, but you saw him right? I'm not imagining it am I?”

Frieda casually crossed her arms at her waist and shrugged. "Hey, if you're interested, then just ask him out. He might say 'no,' but then you'd know for sure. You have nothing to lose, and everything to gain." She felt like a pre-war dating advice columnist.

Brandy dropped the brush back into her purse and turned to face Frieda, “I have a nice little beach house that I've working in, I live there all by myself,” she shrugged, “Kinda scary sometimes, and lonely. You're more than welcome to stay if you would like, I have plenty of room and an extra bedroom.”

Frieda blinked. "You -- do you mean it?" Her shoulders dropped in relief at the idea of having a place to live. Plus, Brandy was sweet and personable. She'd had worse bunkmates in the Enclave. "That would be great. Amazing, even. I don't know how I'd pay you back."

Brandy pulled her dress up and dropped her panties, “Sorry, I have to pee when I get all nerved up. Thanks for the advice, I'll do my best to return the favor.” Frieda, veritably raised in an environment where nearly everything was communal, was hardly sussed. Brandy finished and washed her hands, “Well let's go visit some more, maybe have a couple more drinks.”

"Sounds good," she replied, though it was mainly in response to the additional drinks. Frieda followed her back out to the bar. She paid particular attention to Rook as she and Brandy sat back down. He hadn't budged.

“I'll take another beer please,” she heard Brandy say to Ace. Frieda perched herself back onto her stool and lifted her other beer. Brandy turned to the curly haired brunette, addressed as Celeste, “I would love to stop by and look around your place. You have a working robot? That would be awesome.”

"Pfft. Well, sometimes," Frieda blurted, before she could catch herself. She chased her outburst with a big swallow of beer. "Oh, I guess I forgot my manners back there. I'm Frieda. I just got into town today."

CELESTE BROWN - Salem Diner

“Name’s Ace Makovich," the barkeep answered, "as you see this here is my humble establishment. As far as I can see everyone in town is friendly, except for that grump there.” He pointed towards Barney who reciprocated by balling up a piece of paper and throwing it at him, “Like I said, watch out for him.”

Celeste giggled. "I'm sure Barney's a nice enough guy. Maybe he needs a hug!"

Barney made some choking sounds but otherwise did not reply.

Brandy and the blonde returned from the bathroom. Brandy immediately ordered another beer, while the blonde appeared to pick up one that had been left behind and took a drink.

“I dunno if a slender girl like you should be drinking so much,” Ace said as he popped another beer and placed it in front of Brandy, “But who am I to say no to a paying customer.” He opened the door to the cellar and disappeared.

"He's just teasin' ya," Celeste cooed, giving Brandy a smile, as if it weren't obvious. "I don't really like beer that much, myself, or I'd have one with you, too!"

“I would love to stop by and look around your place," Brandy began, addressing Celeste. "You have a working robot? That would be awesome.”

"Pfft. Well, sometimes," the blonde smirked, sounding sarcastic. She turned to look at Celeste, appearing flustered. "Oh, I guess I forgot my manners back there. I'm Frieda. I just got into town today."

"Hi, Frieda," Celeste forced herself to smile, though deep down she felt Frieda's sentiment was fake. "You know, I thought I saw you come in to town. I even waved at you."

Frieda took another swallow of her beer. "...you did? Sorry. I must not have noticed you."

"Oh, that's okay. It happens a lot, since I'm short, and all! I'm used to it." She looked back to Brandy. "Yeah, there's a robot that is left over from the war, when the place was an old folk's home. Poor thing had been stuck in some rut for years. Didn't realize its tenants were dead!" She shuddered. "I don't want to see another skeleton for the rest of my life, I'll say that."

Celeste tucked back into the rest of her stew as Brandy greeted someone else. She offered a wave and a slight smile, wanting to finish her soup before it got cold.

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

CELESTE BROWN -- Salem Diner

The young woman sitting next to a stonefaced blonde whirled around on her stool to introduce herself. “Hi Celeste, I’m Brandy Brooks,” she smiled, “Welcome to Salem. I haven’t been to Sandy Coves yet, I can help fix things, I kind of do a little bit of everything."

"Ain't that somethin'!" Celeste smiled. "I've only ever been real handy in a kitchen. My dad taught me how to cook 'n bake back up where I'm from. It's called Niagara Falls. Maybe you've heard of it?" She tapped her chin, thinking. "So far, the robot has been pretty great at clearing out all the broken things, but I never thought about fixin' them." She smiled. "You can come by any time and take a look around!"

Brandy pat at the front of her dress. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to wash up a little. I spilled some beer on myself." Brandy then leaned towards the blonde and whispered something.

The blonde seemed to stammer, as if she were startled. "Uh, sure. Okay. Lead on," she said, tipping back her beer bottle before standing and following Brandy away.

The man behind the bar placed a bowl of stew onto the counter in front of her. "Well how is it possible i havent seen such a lovely face before? Welcome to our little town."

"Oh, golly," Celeste blushed. "Truth is, I only got here just this morning. I was actually on my way to Diamond City, but, well, let's just say I haven't travelled too much in my life an' it didn't agree with me." She took a spoonful of the stew. "Mmm!" she exclaimed, nodding her head. "Someone definitely taught you how to cook, didn't they?"

"I didn't catch your name," she added, then nodded to the blonde's empty stool. "Plus, some people are just rude, huh? Don't even try to be friendly."

In From The Fog: A Fallout Far Harbor Roleplay

CORRINE DOOLAK -- The Gun Shop

“I already have Shark, Bear, and Talon”, Castner said as he gestured at the weapons on him. “But we lack armor unless this shop has some, or we get to the vertibird tonight. Also I'll standby to help you get the tracker up and running.” He squinted out a cracked window at the setting sun. “I’m not sure we have much time for anything if we don’t start preparing now. And I’m sure going outside the wall at night will be a bit more dangerous than day time.”

Go out...after dark? Corrine shuddered, reflexively pulling her coat more tightly around her. No one who wanted to live to the next day went into the fog after dark, even before it became...what it is now. Fear filled her, but she tried not to let it show as she stooped to unlock her tool chest.

"You're right", Steve observed, "we need to get this done soon if we're going to have time to make the trip and back before it gets too late. He flipped the light on over the workbench, and once Corrine unlocked the chest he removed a screw driver set, the multi-meter, and rummaged around until he found a soldering iron, which he set aside for a moment.

"Corrine", Steve asked, "Is there a working ham radio in town? If so, could you borrow it and bring it here? It'll help test this device."

As if I'd ever say 'no' to that face, she smiled to herself. "I'll see what I can find." Corrine took a breath and gently squeezed his arm, before nodding to Castner and leaving the Gun Shop. As she passed the former Paladin, something seemed a little familiar about him. Perhaps it would come to her, later. She glanced about the square, noticing the activity level beginning to wind down. There remained a few folks still puttering about, finishing last minute errands or wrapping up some final chores.

Corrine looked over to her right to what had been the Mariner's shack. If there were anyone else who would have collected a hefty assortment of treasures, it would have been her. She rubbed her knuckles and entered the shack.

The fixtures were dusty, something she wouldn't have expected for a dwelling only recently unoccupied. She swallowed a lump in her throat that formed as she reflected on the Mariner's untimely death. They lost so many good people in such a small amount of time. She wiped an angry tear with the back of her hand, clicked on a lantern, and focussed on her task.

The Mariner wasn't quite as diligently organized as herself. Corrine took a deep breath as she began to shuffle several items around on a shelf, knocking around small components, screws, filaments, and making a royal mess. Nothing.

She took another breath as she looked over a large, overflowing chest of salvage. Corrine crouched and began pulling items out, one at a time. Broken tools. Small appliances with their electronic guts hanging out. It was starting to seem hopeless. Her knees were starting to ache from her posture, as were her hands and wrists. She flopped back onto her backside, sighing and wiping some sweat off the side of her face.

She turned to look out towards the sky, certain it had darkened further while she toiled about in the old house. Something caught her eye. There, in a shadow cast by the windowsill, sitting on the ruined desk, was the radio she had been looking for. Corrine groaned at the thought of all the wasted time and effort and hastily re-packed the crate, with no regard for being careful. She gathered the radio in her arms and took the few steps back to the Gun Shop.

She entered to find Steve and Castner rummaging through her containers, but respectfully replacing them where she had originally put them. Mainlanders might impress her just yet. "I'm back," she called into the shop, placing the radio onto the counter. "How're you makin' out, in here? Can I help?"

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

FRIEDA RICHTER - Salem Diner

Rook seemed to make a point of replying to her such that Brandy wouldn't hear. “Rook is disappointed in Shooter Lady. Rook would have expected her to learn some kind of tolerance in the wastelands. Now you will be looking for a reason to just murder Rook and justify it by saying Rook was being bad. Shooter Lady is no different than the raiders in the Pitt.”

A super mutant judging me? That's definitely a first.

Rook called for a beer for her, and the man introduced to her as Ace popped off the lid of a darker coloured beer while Brandy popped out from behind the bar with beers, herself.

Well, all right! No complaints on this development. She made to take a swig when the grubby fellow took the liberty of sitting next to her and extending his hand.

“Thomas Beauregard Sykes the III, entrepreneur extraordinary, purveyor of wares far and wide. I do not believe I’ve had the pleasure of gazing upon such graceful flower before. Your beauty surely lights up this bleak and sad wasteland."

Frieda blinked, but did not shake the man's hand. "Um...thanks. It's Ric -- Frieda," was all she could manage in response.

“To new friends and a new home, CHEERS!!!” Brandy chirped, raising her beer and looking at Frieda expectantly.

"Sure. Cheers," she replied, holding up her own bottle a little timidly. She took a good mouthful of the dark beer, impressed at its taste. There were at least a couple folks back home who brewed their own beer regularly, and the taste of the stout reminded her of them. "What did you say this was called? It does taste fresh."

“You know Brandy, you tug at my belt, put your hand in my pocket…Call me old fashioned but some guys like to be wined and dined before they get this far,” Ace said with a smirk as he sipped on his whiskey, “I’m not just a piece of meat you know.”

Frieda took another swig when suddenly Brandy slammed the bottle down and covered her mouth, spitting beer into her hand, and causing Frieda to jump. Brandy looked up at her then to Ace and turned towards Frieda, “Oh my God,” she blushed, “I didn’t me…I didn’t mean it like that.” She waved her hands at her face fanning herself, “Frieda, that doesn’t make me a floozy, does it?”

Frieda burst out laughing. "A floozy? Certainly not. Unless...well, did you really put your hand into his pocket?"

Brandy let out one more long exaggerated breath, “He is cute,” she whispered.

"Well, then go for it," Frieda murmured back. "If he ever breaks your heart, I'll kick his ass, myself."

A short woman with curly hair drew up to the bar, smiling and bubbling on about being the proprietor of the inn. Frieda noted the information for later. She was getting tired of lugging her stuff around and with it getting dark, she would have to look for some kind of apartment in the morning.

I guess that means I'm going to need a job. A real, paying job. She sat quietly as Brandy introduced herself to the woman who called herself Celeste and continued to sip on her beer, watching Rook scarf down a veritable mountain of food out of the corner of her eye. He said something about the beer to Brandy, but Frieda didn't catch it. The beer was going down very easily.

She idly watched Ace take several orders at once and struggle to fulfill them at all quickly. It would seem that serving bar wasn't exactly his natural talent. She took another drink just as Brandy was whispering to her, again.

“Will you come with me?”

"I -- wait -- what?" Frieda stammered, caught off guard. She noticed Brandy dabbing at the front of her dress where the beer had landed on it, while sneaking glances at Ace and grinning sheepishly. "...oh. Uh..." She looked at Rook, seemingly completely focused on his food and drink. "Uh, sure. Okay. Lead on." Frieda had a flashback of being twelve and thirteen all over again, when her classmates used to giggle and dash around to avoid the boys, while seemingly, desperately, wanting their attention.

Sometimes, it worked.

Frieda tossed back the rest of the stout and plunked the bottle onto the bar, before rising to follow Brandy.

In From The Fog: A Fallout Far Harbor Roleplay

CORRINE DOOLAK - The Gun Shop

I guess our date's over, was Corrine's first, sad thought, as her and Steve's private chat turned into an impromptu gathering. Steve was right in that they had to start rounding up folks to execute a plan for defending the town, but couldn't she have had five more minutes? Especially since they'd been interrupted so rudely...

"To get a gun.... This is a Gun store is it not?", James snapped, "Plasma defender may be good up close but I need something for long range, maybe one of lever action rifles Old Grumpy has.”

"I wasn't ruining any 'tour guiding,'" he said. Cocky, unapologetic asshole. I like him less and less with each passing moment. No manners at all.

"The owner's dead, I hear", Steve said, "Not sure who is seeing to his affairs these days. Probably oughta find who that is before you go walking off with something. Folk out in the Wasteland tend to shoot thieves....just sayin'"

"No one that I know of," Corrine added. "Unless it's Brooks. Guns ain't exactly my thing."

“I have my own plan to help out," the stranger began quietly. "I was in a Brotherhood of Steel vertibird on the way over here when it crashed somewhere on the island. It’s got good gear on it: power armor, heavy weapons, ammunition, and the armor plating could be salvaged from it”, he looked over at Steve. “I have a device that can locate the downed vertibird, but it broke when I… fell out of the bird mid air.”, he held out the transmitter device to Steve. “Think you can fix it? Also what are your names? I’m James Gregor Castner, former Paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel."

Corrine peered over Steve's shoulder to look at the device. Her scavver instincts kicked in immediately and she nearly salivated at the thought of the parts inside it, just waiting to be rescued. She forced herself to return her gaze back into the room.

"I'm Corrine. My family's been on the island for generations," she nodded, wary of extending her hand to the newest stranger. "Nice to hear we have another mainlander on our side."

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

CELESTE BROWN - Sandy Coves Inn

Celeste sighed in satisfaction as she straightened up and looked over the fruits of her labour. The kitchen sparkled -- well, as much as the centuries-old Formica and plastic could, she supposed -- and she'd be more than proud to cook up light snacks for her guests in such a place. The robot hissed and bleeped behind her.

"Most excellent work, Manager Celeste!" it complimented.

"Thanks!" she chirped, wiping sweat from her brow. "Now, on to that dining room."

"I've already taken the liberty of clearing out the, ahem, deceased and the most irreparable pieces of furniture, then followed up with a general sweep and tidy."

Celeste blinked. "Wow! You sure are fast!"

"Actually, if my computations are correct, I am operating at only 71% efficiency due to years of being stuck in an idle loop," the robot muttered.

"What?"

"No matter, Manager! If you're finished with that solution of Abraxo, I will freshen it up and get to cleaning the room, proper."

"Oh, sure," Celeste stepped out of the way to allow the robot to access her dirty water bucket. "Do you want some help?"

"That's not necessary. I'll have the place mopped up in a jiffy."

Celeste's stomach growled. "Well, if you're sure, I might just freshen up and see if I can find myself something to eat."

"Splendid plan, Manager!"

Celeste meandered back into her room and put her bag onto her freshly-made bed to root through her clothes. She selected a pink blouse with a bird motif and changed her top. After combing her hair, she went back into the kitchen and swept all the scavenged caps into her coin purse (about twenty-five, by her count) and stepped back out into the town. The air had cooled significantly and Celeste was taken aback by how much time had passed while she'd scrubbed out her kitchen. She wandered down the street to see lights on in the diner where she'd met Barney earlier in the day. Her stomach growled again, as if in response.

She walked in the door to see a grubby looking man, a blonde, a brunette, and a super mutant all at the bar. “To new friends and a new home, CHEERS!!!” cried the brunette, raising her bottle in the air. The blonde seemed to hesitate but joined her companion in the social salute. Celeste took a breath and approached the bar. The barkeep was puffing on a cigarette and smirking towards the brunette, having said something Celeste couldn't hear. She drew up next to the grubby man and pulled herself onto a stool, resting her bosom directly onto the countertop.

"Hi!" she smiled. "Nice diner! What's that amazing smell? Some kind of stew?" Celeste put a few caps onto the counter. "I'll take some."

She looked between the barkeep and the other patrons. "I'm Celeste!" she chimed by way of introduction. "I just got into town today. -- Oh! Hi, Barney!" she waved at the man on the other side. Barney mumbled and took a drink from his glass.

"Anyways," she continued, "I've been tidying up ol' Sandy Coves, just over that way," she pointed out the diner in the direction of the building. "It's an inn! So, if anyone needs a place to stay, I'll be happy to fix you up with a room!"

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

FRIEDA RICHTER - Salem Diner

Brandy furrowed her brow while looking at Frieda; she glanced at Rook then back, “What’s Barney talking about Frieda?” Barney looked at Frieda and egged her to tell with his eyes, “Di…did you shoot at Rook? Why? He had a white flag, that means he comes in peace, or in war means he surrendered.”

Frieda took a breath and tried to wave Brandy down. "I shot towards him, yes -- just as a warning -- and I didn't see the white flag. Right away. Ahem." This was not going well.

Brandy's mouth fell open slightly, “Why? He just wants the same thing we all do, to live as peacefully as we can and build a community.” She looked as though she might start to cry.

Frieda watched as the man behind the bar slammed some meat onto the counter in front of Rook and felt her stomach turn.

"Ahh...y-yeah...maybe..." she stuttered, turning her focus back to the ruined bar countertop immediately in front of her. Frieda looked to her left, as though to say something to the man with the skin that was too good to be true, and instead saw Steve standing there and mumbling to him. Startled, she turned back towards Brandy. Something about the woman tugged hard on her heart strings. Brandy wasn't just playing at being sweet, she seemed to genuinely believe what she was saying. Frieda knew a couple of those types back home.

"Don't...don't be like that, all right. I..." she sighed, heavily, then looked at Rook. "I'm sorry, okay?" She waited until Brandy's back was turned before she leaned over towards Rook. "I swear to whatever is important in this world that the very second you give me a single reason to shoot at you, my aim will be true and deadly. Do you hear me?" she hissed.

"So!" she cried cheerfully at the man behind the bar. "What's a girl gotta do to get a beer around here?"