SkrtWithAWeapon

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

CELESTE BROWN - Sandy Coves Inn -- mid-afternoon

A tall man with a moustache sauntered in after Archie had opened the door. “Greetings ma’dam, and Fēi nǚhái” Steve said as he winked at both women. “Like I said outside I was coming up here to find out who was building that wall, whoever’s building that is making a mistake with the three doors.... Anyway getting back to topic I heard some gunfire and came to investigate but it seems you killed them already...or at least this group."

“....and I’ll take care of the next group that makes the mistake of showing up too. In the meantime I’d suggest you keep those eyes up and turning, wink at me again and I’ll set them spinning.” Sara replied with a confident tone.

Celeste quivered and hoped no one noticed. She cleared her throat. "I believe Rook is building the wall. Archie showed him to the roof but I, ah, haven't seen him, since. He might still be up there." She gestured towards Archie. "Could you show Mr. ... ah, what was your name? Up to the roof?"

"Absolutely, manager! Mind the stairs, this way, please..." Archie turned and went up the stairs branching from the foyer.

“Robot do you know when those atom losers moved into the crater? How many there are? If they are attacking travellers on the road Might be a good idea to clean them out before they start causing trouble for the town...”

"Manager Celeste has named me 'Archie', which is just fine, sir. Now, a crater, did you say? Last I knew, the moon was inhabitable to most aerobic life forms. Did that change with the Great War?" His voice faded as they ascended higher into the inn.

Celeste turned back to Sara and gave her a warm smile. "Well, now! Where were we? Oh, yes!" She looked at the bag of caps and opened it, carefully counting out twenty-four. "I appreciate your gesture, but I couldn't possibly let you just over pay. Someone else might think they could under pay as a result, hmm? Please don't be offended. It's not personal." She closed up the pouch, stood on her tip-toes, and tucked the excess back into Sara's hand from across the counter.

"So! Let's find you a room, shall we?" Celeste purred with delight. She came out from behind the counter and walked towards the stairs. "Right this way. You'll find the rooms have been freshly scrubbed and all the linens are crisp and fresh!" Celeste sauntered into the hallway. "Please, take your pick on a room. They're all available, so whichever one you like will be just fine!"

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

FRIEDA RICHTER - Salem Clinic -- mid-afternoon

"Yes well...obviously he's suffering from some severe food poisoning," Arthur announced, "Probably brought on by some unwholesome meat or spoiled vegetables. Nothing to worry about I can treat him in my office."

"Ah. Yes, I've...seen that before, once or twice," Frieda replied, cryptically.

Arthur then helped him up and began escorting him gently towards the staircase, making sure to keep the bin close at hand in case the man had the urge to vomit again, "Uh...oh yes.." he said, remembering something and turning back to Frieda, "Thank you for the lunch Ms. Richter it was very much appreciated. If you don't mind holding down the fort here a bit longer while I treat this man, I'd be grateful. I'll..uh...just be a moment."

"I -- wait a sec --" she called after him, watching him retreat up the stairs with the patient. She rubbed her brow, wondering if it were necessary to drag the poor wretch all the way up the stairs for a glass of water and some dry crackers. But, what did she know? She already admitted the most she knew about first aid involved bandaids and deep breaths. Frieda thought he might be avoiding her, to some degree, but that didn't seem unusual to her, either. Just yesterday she all but told Steve to fuck off when he asked her where she was from, and all she wanted was a cigarette.

A cigarette.

The craving smashed into her like a load of bricks. She walked out the main entrance and lit up almost immediately. Frieda eyed the pack and frowned. Had she really smoked half of them, since last night?

She reflected on the fact she still had no money, and no way to buy Brandy dinner, let alone barter another pack of smokes off her. How was the supply back home so endless, and up here, she couldn't keep up with her own vices?

Addiction is a powerful thing.

The scuffle of a pair of booted feet going by caused her to look up and regard Barney Rook puffing on his own cigarette. "Hey!" she called to him. He looked over, raised an eyebrow, but continued walking. "HEY!!" she repeated, daring to take two steps out of the clinic. "I need to talk to you, but I can't leave. Can you come over here, please?"

Barney chuckled, but complied. "What do you want?"

"Look. I need money. You need people in your militia. We all need a safe clinic. Do you agree?"

Barney shrugged. "I guess. Why?"

"I want you to put me on the payroll, as clinic guard."

Barney took a drag of his cigarette. "That ain't on the list. We need folk to keep out the riff raff and the wildlife, not stand around in front of others who're pukin' and bleedin'."

"Yeah, well," Frieda took a step towards Barney, putting her entire essence much too close to him for either person's comfort. "Have you met the doc? He isn't exactly...calloused, let's say. Kind of 'Vault fresh,' if that means something to you? And besides that, I don't think he knows which end is the business end of a gun." She made a point of sizing up the man in front of her, in an attempt to appear intimidating. "You know what happens if he ends up hurt, or worse? We go from having a competent medical professional in our midsts -- who, by the way, refuses to take any money for treatment he performs -- to hoping none of us get so much as a scratch out here in the middle of Massachusetts."

Barney blinked. "Middle of where?"

"The Commonwealth," Frieda quickly corrected. "So, are you gonna pay me, or not?"

"Suppose I could put you on probation," Barney mumbled. "The doc is important, that much is true. An' I guess we'll find out if you're as good as worth payin' soon enough."

Frieda internally rejoiced. "I won't let you down, sir," she rattled reflexively.

Barney rubbed the back of his neck. "See that you don't," and with that, he'd shuffled off.

Score one for me, she thought to herself with a smile. Frieda re-settled herself against the doorframe, twirling the scissors.

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

FRIEDA RICHTER - Salem Clinic - mid afternoon

Frieda stood fast at the door to the church, watching everyone and everything that went by. Not so much as a radroach reared its head while she watched.

Guard duty wasn't one of her typical posts, but she'd done it often enough. Holy shit was it ever boring, though.

Her attention was broken by a young man, pale as paper, clambering over to the church entrance. He saw her and pleaded, "Please get me the doctor...I need him quick..." He saw a bin by the door, and threw up again.

Frieda stepped away, recoiling with both her hands up. "Whoa there, bub. Seems a bit too early to be puking due to drinking...or did you drink out of the ocean, or something?" She raised a finger to her own lips, the combination of the actual vomit in front of her and the idea of drinking ocean water, made her feel queasy.

Arthur spoke from beside her. "What's wrong? Are you sick? Or is it venom?" He sputtered out, trying to get whatever information he could.

"Oh! You're...awake," Frieda murmured, wondering how she hadn't notice he had walked up behind her. "He's sick, all right -- wait, did you say venom?" She looked at the patient, then back at the doctor. "He did just come from the direction of the water. Only poisonous wildlife ever documented were some advanced mirelurks, but if our friend here were running from one, it'd be in our sights by now. ...oh, dear," she sighed, moving her feet out of the way once more as the young man heaved into the bin. "Look, ahh, why don't you...bring that, yes, there you go," she cooed, placing the bin firmly into his hands, "and seat yourself just over here so the doc can get a look at you, hmm?" Frieda guided the man to the nearest chair.

In From The Fog: A Fallout Far Harbor Roleplay

CORRINE DOOLAK - gates at The Hull - late eveningtime or close enough

Castner seemed...unprepared for her question. It took him a moment to respond. “You just need to hold him close, and enjoy the moments you have.”, he answered quietly.

Corrine suspected he wasn't speaking entirely empirically, but didn't press him further. "Thanks, I will."

“Now, the device seemed to point west. I'm guessing heading directly there isn't a good option. What's the safest route to head that direction?”

Corrine couldn't help but give a sly smile. "Truth is, there ain't a direct route to anywhere from here. The town's kinda tacked on to the northeast side of the whole damn island."

Approaching footsteps caused her to turn. Steve and James were finally joining them. Steve drew up to the gate and pulled a dead stop. He walked up and stopped. He didn't really want to go out there, but there seemed to be no choice.

"Looks like we're all here...so lets get this show on the road", Steve said, as he turned on the device, and took a bearing with the compass on the direction it was in. He then pointed in the direction that the signal was coming from. "It's that way....what would be the best way to proceed, Corrine?"

"The road," she replied tersely, though more out of nerves than anything else. "Traditionally, only real danger along the road were the Trapper holdings. They'd set up outposts to try an' waylay travellers. Lucky fer us, seems the fog claimed the lot o' them." Corrine stooped to pick up her duffle bag, then motioned west. "Shall we?" She nodded at Castner. "Maybe it makes sense fer you to lead? Yer the one who knows what we're lookin' for."

She turned to Steve, some look of wanting in her eyes. There were a million things she wanted to say, before they set out, but none of the words would come. She reflected on the last thing Castner had said, before asking her the route. "Keep him close."

"You don't have to be at the front of the line fer that thing to work, right? Why don't we let James an' James take the lead." She slung the strap of her bag over her shoulder and gripped her spear. Despite the fact the pistol worked, she just didn't feel comfortable out on the island without her usual weapon. There was no way she would traverse into the dark without it.

"Remember, just stay on the road," she called ahead. Corrine looked to Steve again, wearing a sad smile. "So...here we go..."

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

FRIEDA RICHTER - Salem Clinic - Late morning to early afternoon

Frieda had hummed happily to herself for a few hours, shearing linens into strips with the scissors the doc had given her. She wiped some sweat off her brow, surprised it had accumulated there, considering the task wasn't exactly taxing. She brushed off some of the resultant lint and stray threads from her hands and shelved one last pile of bandages, wondering what to do with the overstock still in her arms.

Probably makes sense to just take these out into the clinic, proper. She left the storage room and stepped into the main room, just in time to watch a stranger hug Arthur before leaving with another man and pushing a patient in a wheelchair.

“Doc, I can't put into words how thankful I am for you and what you did for Eliza. I will repay you, I promise, you name it.”

Arthur appeared unsure of how to react and did not return the hug. "Yes...well...think nothing of it." He stuttered out once the woman had pulled back. He adjusted his glasses which had become askew and cleared his throat. "My only request for payment is that you do what you can to return the favor to help the clinic when you can and to..ahem..help me...as well..." His stomach grumbled loudly enough that Frieda heard it, "Aside from that...there is no charge."

Frieda stepped towards the pulpit where an assortment of items had already been assembled. She attempted to place the new bandages neatly among the items, then slowly approached where the other patient lay. Arthur sighed deeply and rubbed his eyes. He walked back over to the patient and Frieda.

"I'm just going to lie down for an hour or two..I'll just be...just be.." He babbled, so tired he was unable to finish.

Frieda had seen exhaustion like that before. The doc had clearly suffered from severe sleep deprivation and many hours of adrenaline-induced action, but his body was shutting down. It wasn't as clear during their earlier chat, but to her defence, she hadn't spent quite enough time with him to see the signs at that point, either. "You have a place to lie down?" she asked, almost tenderly, though in truth she hadn't been through the entirety of the place and knew nothing of its layout.

Arther gave a tremendous yawn in response and he trudged over to the staircase and up to the second floor, out of sight.

"...so, that's a yes," she answered herself, glancing down at the other patient who continued to sleep through the entire ordeal. Frieda tapped her fingers on her thighs, feeling restless and a little out of place. She paced around the main floor of the church-turned-clinic, gazing around, bored but wishing for a task. She reflected on how the poor doc's stomach had growled and suddenly remembered the bag lunch Brandy had given her that morning. She retrieved it from the storage closet, tip toed up the stairs as quietly as she could, and had opened her mouth to declare her entrance when she saw the doc had already passed out on a pallet.

"You're a long way from the Vault, huh, doc?" she sighed, with a slight smirk on her face. Frieda scrawled a little note on the paper bag -- 'There's no free lunch! - pre-war expression - except today, this is a free lunch :) - F.R.' -- and gently placed the bag lunch down on his nightstand, next to his glasses. She stood, re-reading her little note, and internally groaned.

"No free lunch"? What's wrong with you?

"Girl's got a crush, I'd say," replied her brother's voice in her mind.

She furrowed her brow, as she would if she were really talking to him. I do not. He's just...familiar, somehow. He's softer than us, but still...disciplined. It's just intriguing.

"Sure," Brian's voice again, and in her mind's eye he was smiling.

Shut up. You're probably dead.

Frieda spun on her heel and whipped back down the stairs. As her feet hit the landing, the distinct, though distant, sound of gunshots rang out in the air. She paused, a lifetime of military conditioning immediately feeding her instincts, telling her to ready her weapon, find cover, and await further orders.

She reached down for her gun, which...wasn't there. The memory of it sitting on the dresser back in Brandy's house flashed into her mind.

"Fucking hell," she muttered. Frieda looked at Summer, back outside, back to her empty belt, cursing herself. How could she have left her weapon behind? How careless could she be?

"'Unprepared' is a synonym for dead," she heard Brian, and countless instructors over her years of training, echoing in her head.

Frieda growled. "Maybe I'd rather be dead!" She slipped to the door, regardless, and peered out. She saw nothing indicating a scuffle anywhere near the closest buildings. Frieda strained her ears to hear more but could hardly pick out any distinct sounds. Everything in her essence dictated she should ready and prepare herself for a confrontation, but her lack of weapon nagged at her as a snag. Besides, she couldn't in good conscience leave the clinic, what with the remaining patient down for the count already, and the doctor sleeping above. If something were to happen to him, well, the town would be hard pressed to find another medic who remained so particularly fixated on cleanliness and generally thorough.

...

She blinked, as she realized her subconscious had picked up on details that had hardly registered, before. No wastelander, doctor or otherwise, was such a stickler for being precisely clean as he was. Brandy's house was clean and tidy, for sure, but definitely wasn't organized with such...sterility. Just another chip in the pile of things that didn't quite add up about the doc.

The clinic was her post, and she'd take it seriously. In a moment of clarity, she retrieved the scissors -- "Mind the edge, it is sharper than it looks," the doc had warned -- and went back to the door of the clinic, prepared to melee any threat that dared appear. Several moments passed before a horse, a woman, and a man, came barreling down the street and disembarked at a home next to Brandy's. Frieda blinked, but turned her attention back to the road, remaining vigilant. She idly turned the scissors in her hands as she watched.

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

CELESTE BROWN - Sandy Coves Inn - early to mid afternoon

It felt like years since Archie had left the inn to investigate the disturbance. Celeste found herself standing still, frozen, behind the reception desk. All manner of threats streamed through her mind. Raiders? Mutants? Ghouls? All of the above? Worse?!

Her breath caught in her throat and it was as though her heart threatened to stop altogether. She'd been away from home for all of ten minutes and her very live could be snuffed out, never to be talked of, again.

“I’ve returned manager. Ms. Sara and her friends were the cause of the disturbance we heard earlier. She’s now looking for some place to stay.” Archie entered the inn, sounding triumphant.

"You...huh...what?" she breathed, coming out of her paranoid daze.

“Uh ya, let’s get that straight. I did not kill all of those people….unfortunately, and they were not actually my friends, that was a joke.” The woman shifted the weight of her pack so and stepped up to the counter to speak with the woman. “I’m just looking for a place to stay for a few days, the robot brought me here when I asked. So do you have any rooms or do I just pick a corner and set up a tent? Not really sure how this stuff works, it’s been awhile. I’ve got money.” She pulled a large pouch of caps out of her bag and sat them down on the counter with a satisfying jingle. “Is this enough? For whatever?”

Celeste looked between the caps, up to the woman, back to the caps, and back to the woman. She cleared her throat and offered her most dazzling, charming smile. "Welcome to the Sandy Coves Inn! I'm Celeste Brown, proprietor of this establishment. Please, help yourself to one of the scones, they're fresh baked from scratch." She eyed the caps pouch. Her fingers twitched but she refused to simply help herself to the money. To do so would just simply be rude. "Room rental is eight caps per night. So for three nights that would be...twenty-four caps," she nodded. "Archie is my assistant. He could lead you up to a place, if you are okay with that?"

There was a strange knock at the door, causing Celeste to startle, and Archie to turn. “hello? Anyone inside? It’s Steve was Salem.... I heard the gunshots but it looks like you killed them already.”

Celeste looked to the robot, and shrugged. The voice continued.

"Good shooting and knife work by the way."

Celeste immediately looked at Sara and paled, almost shrinking behind the counter. "...another, um, friend, of yours?"

"Manager?" the robot prompted.

"Ah, oh. Right. Well...go answer the door, I guess," Celeste squeaked.

Archie floated to one of the main doors and magically flung it open. "Hello, and welcome to the Sandy Coves Inn! Do come inside."

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

@Kouropalates sorry it took me a couple days, there! I posted some responses for your interest :)

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

CELESTE BROWN - Sandy Coves Inn - Early Afternoon

“Yes, Rook is Super Mutant. Rook is Rook as well. Brandy is good person, Rook thinks she is one of the nicest people he had ever met.” Rook gave a nod, as through that was the ending of that range of fact. “Rook is building a wall, needs help to build it, but Rook also has questions for you. They are important ones.”

It was almost as though his voice was entering her ears from a room, down the hall, with the door closed. "Important questions...for me?" she parroted, dumbly.

Rook took a moment to look around the room, but then frowned. “No matter. Does lady know if there are stairs to the roof of this place? Does lady want wall built so wall is against building, or away from building? Would lady mind having a gate near her door as well, so people pass by here first if they arrive on other road?”

"Please, it's Celeste," she offered a small don't-eat-me smile in response. "Honestly, I'm not sure if there's access to the roof. That'd be a better question for Archie. He's the Mr. Handy robot who's lived here for over two hundred years, an' all. As for a wall...uhh..."

Archie descended the last few stairs into the foyer. "I couldn't help overhearing --"

"Better late than never," Celeste muttered, in an uncharacteristic show of bitterness.

"If this is to be a tactical, perimeter wall, it likely makes sense to establish it away from the building, hmm? That way the unsightly riff raff can't attempt to use our windows as points of entry."

Celeste looked between Rook and Archie. She shrugged, and sighed. "Well, Archie, I'll assume you know more about security and shall I leave you to it, then? I do have a guest waiting on me, after all." She couldn't help but smile to herself at the thought of returning to Adam. "Archie, he was asking about the roof. Know anything about that?"

"Indeed I do, Manager Celeste! Please, follow me," the robot instructed, turning and going back up the stairs from whence it came.

Celeste scurried back into the kitchen, carefully placed a warm scone onto a small yellow plate with an unfortunate chip on the edge, filled up a mug of coffee, and expertly carried both without spilling a single drop or crumb into the dining room. Adam sat, waiting with the patience of a saint. "Miss Celeste," he greeted her. She smiled, placing the snack and drink in front of him. He gestured at the chair opposite, and her heart nearly leapt out of her throat. She perched herself down, happily.

"Ma'am, I need to be upfront. I...I think I know where this is heading and....I can't let it get there," was the next thing he said.

It was as though a bubble had popped. Celeste blinked. "I...oh," she replied, meekly.

Adam appeared to glance at the scone, but otherwise showed no interest in it. He spent the next several moments telling her, gently, about the pain and loss he had endured, the scars it left, and went so far as to pull out an old photograph. All she could do was listen quietly, and respectfully -- and if anything, it made her feel sympathy for him, above all.

"...I didn't want Jack to have that life. He deserved better." Adam stood up, a quiet hand asking for his picture back. Celeste placed it gently back into his hand. "I've never been with a woman since. Not as some sort of penance, but I never wanted to let another woman in my heart like that, to risk losing them like that again." He rolled the picture into its film case and tucked it in an inner jacket pocket. He bent in and gave her a slow and gentle kiss on the cheek, "If I stay in town a while and we spend a little more time together, maybe I'll finally get over my wife's death."

She flushed, feeling happy, almost giddy. Celeste reached up and touched the place on her cheek where he'd kissed her. Her thoughts were interrupted by Adam choking on the coffee. "I....I shoulda.....ugh....drank it hot...."

"Oh, my goodness!" Celeste sprung from her seat, grabbing a nearby napkin and immediately dabbing his chin. "Are you alright?"

Her question was answered by a chuckle. He looked back and smiled, "Goodbye....Celeste."

Celeste stood, moonstruck for a moment. She smiled and raised her hand to wave.

"Oh right!" He threw a small pouch to Celeste, that she fumbled and nearly dropped. She stared at it for a full minute, genuinely confused as to what he had even given her. She plopped back down in her chair and opened it, dumping its contents onto the table. Several caps fell out, and a piece of paper.

"115 for the goods. 50 for being the worst. first date. ever. Come by my place on the coast. Look for the seaside shed with the big white boat and the Brahmin, I'll treat you to the better one you deserved," she read out loud, slowly, emphasizing every word.

"A better wha -- OH!!" Her heart soared, clutching the note to her chest, completely elated. "He likes me, he likes me, he likes me," she giggled to herself. Celeste spent several moments feeling high on life while she tidied up the leftover dishes. She stared at the remaining scones, wondering what to do with them. On a whim, she loaded them all up onto a large plate and brought them to the front desk to treat her guests as they arrived.

Her ears pricked up at what sounded like several gunshots outside, and close enough to make her feel scared. Celeste gasped, wondering if she should peek out the doors. Archie appeared at the bottom of the stairs into the foyer once more.

"Manager Celeste, did you hear that?"

"I-I did, Archie. What should we do?"

"No need to do anything, manager. Allow me to investigate."

Celeste swept a stray curl off her forehead. "Oh, be careful, Archie! You just check it out and come right back, you hear me?"

"Back in a jiffy!" the robot replied, before exiting the inn.

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

@Kouropalates Oh it's all good! I worried I CC'd a bit much (bringing Adam back into the inn), hence my post here. Adam can rebuff or reject her all he wants, if he wants. It's all up to you :)

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

@Kouropalates I figured Adam would go back into the inn as invited but by no means does he have to stay or accept any food or coffee. Celeste is a little...forward, like that. ;)