Duncan Talson




Duncan Overlooked the Potomac and sighed, he had wanted to make it to Grayditch today but was caught up in Megaton when haggling with Moira Brown over a pair of Nuka Cola lamps he’d found. He’d wanted 250 caps each but she wasn’t willing to go over 400 caps for them, it went like that for quite awhile. He wasn’t willing to walk away because she was the only person in town who would even consider buying them and he wasn’t too keen on hauling them to Grayditch. In the end he had to walk away with 425 caps, he let out a small chuckle “For a crazy woman she sure knows how to haggle” he said quietly into the night.

He went to his trailer and inspected his wares one last time so when he woke up he would be able to tell if something was missing. He lifted the canvas flap and made a check list in his head. 3 mole rat hides, 2 Dog furs, 5 pounds of Dog meat, 7 plates and 7 knives and forks, a case of whiskey, a working fridge motor and a couple of Vault Tec wristwatches. He looked up and surveyed the area around him to make sure no one was watching. When he was satisfied he unraveled an old blanket and gazed upon his prized possession that he would part with for no amount of money.... Well if the amount was high he would consider it. It was one of them Vault Tec wrist screen things, Duncan had put it when talking to someone about it and to obtain he’d done the most grizzly thing. He shuddered as he thought about, how somebody like him could stoop to something that low was beyond him he wrapped it back up and put it in amongst all his other wares then placed the canvas flap back into place.

He walked round and unhitched the trailer from his Brahmin who gave a small moo of relief at the lightened load. He turned to the creature and spoke softly “it’s alright Jane soon we’ll be back in a town and you’ll be able to rest properly this time, not just catch a few hours of sleep and the best part you won’t have to haul that trailer anymore". Jane poked her muzzle into his chest to say she approved of the last statement. Duncan let a small smile break on his face, he looked down at the creature that had been with him since the start of his life as a driver, he’d bought her when she was just a calf and for a bargain as well the herder said she’d never pull a trailer she was to independent or some nonsense. Duncan had always wondered how the man had stayed in business for so long his yards were a mess and his prices were outrageous for the quality of his stock but in the end he put it down to he was the only man willing to do it. From that day forward him and Jane had been all over the wasteland even out west to the lights of Vegas and beyond into the NCR. He shook the memory from his mind and unrolled the sleeping bag that was attached to his pack, found a nice flat bit of ground and drifted off to sleep.

Nick Parker

Nick sighed and went over to one of the houses, waiting for the squad. The military formation and complete discipline was enough for the other members of Greyditch to realize this squad had the capability to repel any unorganized attacks on the settlement. He smiled as he sat down on one of the chairs, cleaning his Dragunov sniper rifle.

"Parker, let's call it a day!" Gerald yelled as he went into a small room right outside of Nick's house. Cyrus took another room and so did Katie as Nick went back to his room. Nick nodded and headed to his own room. He sat down on the clean mattress and opened up a locket to show a picture of him and his squad all with their rifles. On the picture, signed "Our Oath of the Peace Garden."

Nick smiled and tucked himself in bed.

"PARKER!" Julie yelled.
"Stop being a [censored]" Nick said as he kept cleaning his rifle. The entire squad laughed a bit as Julie smacked him in the head. "Just cause you're leader doesn't mean I can't do that!" She yelled jokingly. As the squad kept going on about, gunfire shot through the squad.

In an instant, the squad was on the ground in a pool of their own blood, Nick shot in the non-vital areas. As he gained his bearings, he looked around in horror as thirty raiders stood above his body, laughing and held a gun to his face. "Ha, now who's the professional, you [censored] piece of [censored].

As the muzzle flashed, the world went black.

Nick awoke on his bed and checked his locket, it was 5:00AM. Another dream. He shuddered as yet again, the faces of his former squad flashed through his mind. "My friends..." He whispered as Nick sat on his bed, contemplating about what Greyditch will hold for him.

Joe Rennie.

Joe had worked late in to the evening with the three other men, carrying the assorted bodies to the end of town and piling them together. He had then retired to the house he had claimed, leaving Drifter in charge of lighting the fire.

When they arrived in the house beside the security shack, Harold immediately stomped off up the stairs. A short while later, the sound of ancient bedsprings protesting filled the house as the giant lowered himself into bed.

Hmmm, didn't even say goodnight. Well suits me. Joe shrugged and mounted the stairs, then stopped. Celeste wasn't in the diner when we turned in was she? Ah hell.
Joe peered around the room, looking for somewhere to get a little shut eye. I'm sure as [censored] not going to top and tail with Harold and what kind of signal would it be to Celeste if I wake her up, in the middle of the night, when I've offered her my bed?

Joe's eyes settled on the battered old couch. It was impossible to say what colour the couch had been to begin with but now it was a dirty brown hue. Joe sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly as he crossed the room and dropped into the seat, the impact of his body caused a large cloud of dust to engulf him. He lept clear of the dust, spluttering as he breathed some of it in.

Should I go up anyway? Joe thought to himself. I'm sure she'd be pleased to see me and more than acommodating. She's easy enough on the eyes and she's got huge.... Potential as a mark, be easier to skim a little from the diner if we were... But then there's Harold. No, can't have him catching us at it. Best just get comfortable on the couch instead, ha, if she wakes up and finds you here she'll think you're being a proper gent..

Joe sprawled as best he could on the couch. It was lumpy and uncomfortable and it smelled of mildew and decay. But it was better than the floor, so Joe shut his eyes and went to sleep.

He awoke with a start early the next day. He sat up on the couch looking around in panic. From above him came a horrible rasping screach. "What the [censored] is that?" Joe asked the room in general. The sound came again and again, it was coming from upstairs.

Upstairs? Oh [censored]! Celeste. If Moriarty finds out I picked a house with ferals in it, put his daughter in there. Then slept downstairs as they ate her......

He jumped up from the couch in a panic. Do I run? What about Harold? Do I want him hunting me down? Is he dead too? Better check, I can get up there quietly enough. And I can probably outrun whatever it is..

Quietly Joe drew his pistol and mounted the stairs. He stealthily crept upwards, keeping his body low. He reached the door to the room he had chosen as his own first, as quetly as he could, he edged the door open with his pistol. A quick scan told him that the room was empty. Celeste hadn't been killed in Joe's bed at least. But where was she? The sound was louder now, it appeared to be coming from Harold's room.

Must be one hell of a tough ghoul if it took him out, Joe thought, as he edged closer to the door. I suppose it could have got him in his sleep, but ferals aren't known for stealth. Well here goes.

Joe turned and stepped into the doorway, pistol held at hip height, ready to fire. The room was empty. Rather the room was empty, except for Harold. The huge brute lay on his bed, his chest rhytmically rising and falling in time with the horrible screeching.

It's him! He's snoring. Joe's body sagged in relief, he leaned back on the wall opposite for a second trying to calm himself down again. If she woke up to that, no wonder she isn't still here.. What's that?

Beside Harold's massive head, on a battered bedside table, sat a large dirty-white tub. Joe leant in a little closer, trying to read the lable.

Buffout, so that's how he's so big. Hmmm, maybe this is my angle with him.

As silently as he could manage, Joe crept into the room and pocketed the tub. Harold just continued snoring as Joe turned and headed back downstairs. He stopped briefly in the kitchen and placed the drugs in the cupboard beneath the sink. After a quick rummage in the fridge yeilded a bottle of warm Nuka-cola, Joe turned and headed for the door.

On the doorstep, Joe stopped to survay the town as he twisted off the bottle cap. The town definately looked better as he looked around. It didn't look good by any stretch of the immagination, but clearing the corpses had definately improved things. In the direction of the car yard, a thin trail of smoke still trailed into the sky. He slipped the cap into his pocket and began to head up the street.

To the left of the diner Joe spotted a large two-headed creature surrounded by people was walking down the slope into town.

First of the traders has arrived then. Wouldn't be surprised if there's more settlers along with it too. Good start to the day. Time for breakfast.

Joe was in high spirits as he took a swig of cola and wandered towards the diner, absent mindedly singing some old song he'd heard Three-Dog play on the radio.

"Unforgettable, in every way, and for evermore, that's how you'll stay. That's why darling it's incredible, that someone so unforgettable, thinks that I'm, unforgettable too." He sang as he entered the diner. Celeste was behind the counter, wiping the surface with an old rag.

"Morning Celeste," Joe smiled warmly at her, "so how did you sleep then? Could you be a darling and fix me a coffee please? First trader's arrived and I'd like some caffine before we need to go meet him."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(Unforgettable: By Nat King Cole)

James wilson

James had worked late in to the evening with the three other men, carrying the assorted bodies to the end of town and piling them together, leaving Drifter in charge of lighting the fire. James headed back to his house

Whilst James had been piling up bodies , Sue had unpacked their pack Brahmin, putting their weapon stock and old toolkit on the table in living room , the three talon combat suits in the cupbroad and their remaining food & drink around the kicthen.

Good old sue , I would be helpless without her help

Heading down to the basemant, James noticed sue had put his fancy suit and the “gun and bullet” book on table next to the bed. Taking off his combat armour James climbed into the small bed and started to read the "guns and bullets" book, and nodded off halfway though the book.

------------------------ (next day)---------------------------

After waking up , james dresseed in his fancy suit and went upstairs.Sue was still asleep in the upstairs bed.
Not wanting to wake her James, picked up his cowboy hat and went for a walk outside.

To the left of the diner James spotted a large brahmin surrounded by a group people was walking down the slope into town.

First of the traders have arrived, wonder what they have to trade

Heading to the dinner Joe and Celeste were already there, sat down in an empty booth and waited to be served.

“good morning Celeste, could I have a nuka-cola & something to eat please”

--Pawnee--

“Mmm. . .mmm,” Pawnee curled his toes as he slept, “mmmm. . .that feels good.”

Slowly, he opened his eyes. Buck was standing over him, licking his neck, just under the ear.

“Mwhuew,” Pawnee pushed the dog’s snout away. He brushed his neck with his palm. A film of salvia clung to it, “gross.”

Pawnee sat up from his bed roll and used his blanket to wipe off the dog’s spit.

It was daytime now, just a little after dawn. There was no ceiling over Pawnee’s head so the sun shone directly on him. He set about gathering up his things and repacking his equipment for the day to come.

Off near the edge of Greyditch , was an odd noise that sounded like a bell. Pawnee walked over to the second story window and peered at the town’s approach. A small trading caravan was making its way into Greyditch with two pack brahimns in the lead. Their cowbells clanked with each step.

Alright! Time to make some quick caps.

Pawnee separated all of his scavenge from his daily gear: the blankets, the broken .44, scrap metal, a few plates and utensils, a Pugilism Illustrated which he had given up on trying to read, and the broken music box. He put these items into a separate sack and whistled for Buck to follow him down to the first floor and outside.

Someone had lit a camp fire down the street. It was still smoking but had just burned down to embers. Several of the houses on the block now seemed occupied, but most people still seemed to be asleep. As Pawnee made his way down the road, he saw the scruffy, handsome man from the day before walk into the diner.

He looks like the big dog around here. . .everyone was talking to him yesterday. . .Joe, I think?

Pawnee wasn’t sure if he was right about the name. He continued down the street towards the trade caravan but then paused mid-step.

I wonder if this is one of those towns where you need permission to trade. . .Moriarty’s a pretty big shyster after all. Probably taxes every trade or something. . .

Pawnee sniffed to himself. He watched the man with his arm in a sling walk into the diner after Joe.

May as well ask. I should know what the rules are before I start breaking them.

Pawnee clapped his hands to get Buck to pick up his pace. He walked into the diner and saw Joe sitting on a stool near the front counter. He was talking to Celeste which made Pawnee shudder.

Pawnee walked over to Joe and tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention.

“Morning there, Joe, is it?” Pawnee extended his hand for a handshake, “my name’s Pawnee. Came into town yesterday and saw everyone talking to you. Are you Greyditch’s. . .mayor or something?”

(OOC: Surfer is too faaaaaast....)

CELESTE BROWN

Jesse walked Celeste as far as the house that Joe had indicated he was taking for himself. She went inside and turned her nose up at the decomposing body of a man and two giant ants, but was too tired to really care. She went upstairs and saw there were two bedrooms. It was tempting to take the queen size in the master bedroom for herself, but she thought the polite thing to do was to leave it for Joe.

She didn't remember falling asleep, but she did remember the commotion caused by Joe coming back in. She thought he sounded particularly heavy coming up the stairs but rolled over and went back to sleep.

She woke up to a beam of sunlight blaring through a crack in the boarded up window. She rubbed her puffy eyes and slipped out of the blanket that Moriarty had given her as a parting gift. A terrible noise was coming out of the next room, and snoring could be heard from below. Celeste was momentarily confused by that until she walked by the next bedroom and saw an enormous heap splayed out on the queen sized bed. Harold?! Why is here sleeping here?

Celeste shook her head and returned to her own little room. She slipped on a fresh, blue coloured t-shirt, and ran a brush through her hair before putting on her boots and heading downstairs. That's when she saw Joe was sleeping on the dilapidated couch. Poor guy. She tried to tip-toe into the kitchen and found a bucket laying in the corner next to the counter featuring the sink. She filled it up with brown-coloured water, grabbed a handful of rags that were sitting in the old kitchen, and headed back out to the diner.

The sunrise made the place look almost beautiful. Many of the buildings had their facades intact and the sun sparkled on the few spots on the windows that weren't caked in grime. She breathed the morning air in deeply and crinkled her nose at the smell. Celeste turned her head to the left and saw what remained of the corpses, now a smoldering pile. They burned them? Urgh, disgusting.

The diner was as she had left it the night before. She frowned anew at the fridge missing its door and the disgusting countertop. Looking lustfully at the broken radio, she opened a box of detergent and poured a generous amount of the powder into her bucket and began to clean the counter. She sloshed some of the liquid onto her chest -- sadly inevitable due to her short stature and the height of the bar -- but carried on. She was happily surprised to see the surface of the counter was a shiny black with a sparkly silver material, almost pretty.

Singing caught her attention, and she turned her head to see Joe waltzing towards the diner. What's he singing, there? "Unforgettable"...? Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him so happy.

"Morning Celeste," Joe smiled warmly at her, "so how did you sleep then? Could you be a darling and fix me a coffee please? First trader's arrived and I'd like some caffine before we need to go meet him."

"Well good morning to you, Mr. Rennie," she grinned. "Coffee's not ready yet on account of no clean water, or a clean coffeemaker." She rolled her shoulders and tossed her rag into her bucket. "I slept okay, I suppose. Between you and Harold, I was surprised you didn't blow the roof off with your snoring. By the way, why is Harold sleeping in your house? Can't he find his own place to sleep?" She turned and bent over to pick up the coffee machine that was laying on the floor, and continued to talk. When she straightened she saw James come into the diner and sit in a booth, and Pawnee approaching with Buck. "I mean he's just your assi--"

Oh. My. GOD. OH MY GOD!!! Her eyes went very wide as the gears in her tiny little mind began to turn. I get it, now! Joe is with Harold! No wonder he wasn't interested in even casual flirting! "Oh, Joe, why didn't you just say! You and Harold!" She gasped. "I thought it was weird you'd need a bodyguard, and you've been spending so much time together, awww...you and Harold, it's kinda sweet."

Joe Rennie

"Well good morning to you, Mr. Rennie," Celeste grinned. "Coffee's not ready yet on account of no clean water, or a clean coffeemaker." She rolled her shoulders and tossed her rag into her bucket. "I slept okay, I suppose. Between you and Harold, I was surprised you didn't blow the roof off with your snoring. By the way, why is Harold sleeping in your house? Can't he find his own place to sleep?"

Joe opened his mouth to reply, but Celeste interrupted him before he could speak. "I mean he's just your assi--" She paused, her eyes going wide before she exclaimed, "Oh, Joe, why didn't you just say! You and Harold!" She gasped. "I thought it was weird you'd need a bodyguard, and you've been spending so much time together, awww...you and Harold, it's kinda sweet."

It was Joe's turn to go wide eyed at the suggestion. Me and Harold? He'd [censored] split me in two. But if Celeste is asking questions then who else is thinking it? She's not the brightest, and if she thinks it..... But still, I could turn it to my advantage.

He plastered a knowing smile and leaned towards her a little. "Not me darlin. Between us, it's Harold." He gave a little shrug. "Colin asked him to be my bodyguard and Harold takes anything he says very seriously. Well I'm sure you know that. But he does try to stay a bit too close for comfort at times. But look at him. I'm no chicken, but I'd rather not dissapoint a guy that big. I'm sure you understand. What's it they say, "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

Joe was fairly certain that Celeste wouldn't understand the phrase, but continued anyway, talking like the two of them were sharing a confidence. Even if she doesn't get what I'm saying, she'll think I'm clever enough that she'll believe me.

"But," he continued, "I don't think whoever made that up ever met Harold, I saw him with that ghoul last night. The guys got a temper." Joe leaned closer, his voice taking on a conspiritorial tone. "Keep this between us too, but I think he might be using drugs." He watched Celeste's eyes widen again, this time in shock.

"I know, I know," Joe said, sadly shaking his head, "I'd never have thought it either. Please don't mention this to anyone. I don't have any proof, so I can't accuse him openly just yet."

He paused and fixed a cheeky grin. "So do I really come off as gay?" He asked with a chuckle.

Before Celeste could answer, they were interrupted by James, who took a seat and ordered a cola.

Good job we were practically whispering by the end. That'd be a hell of a rumor to start circling town. "Morning James." He casually called over.

He almost flinched as a hand landed on his shoulder, to begin with he was worried it was Harold. But the touch was too soft to be him. Joe turned in his seat until he was facing the young fellow with the dog. Both looked rough, though the dog appeared to be in the better shape of the two.

“Morning there, Joe, is it?” The young man extended his hand for a handshake, “my name’s Pawnee. Came into town yesterday and saw everyone talking to you. Are you Greyditch’s. . .mayor or something?”

"Joe it is," he replied, giving his usual enthusiatic handshake, "and no. If I was mayor, I'm sure my job would be a little easier. I'm head of security for the town." He smiled warmly at the young fellow. "What are you here for? Do you have a trade friend?"

Nick Parker

Nick stumbled out of his room, not able to get more than 4 hours of sleep last night. It was like this at least once a week. The squad would appear and the flashes of the incident would keep coming back, hissing through his mind.

The rest of the crew seemed to get enough sleep as they all came out of their separate rooms. Katie, as always, was very energetic and hyper. She looked at Nick and fell into step with him. "Nick! You had that dream again didn't you?"

"No...no dream," He replied, "Nightmare. Every time I close my eyes, the faces of my dead crew keeps haunting me. They keep haunting me, watching, whispering..." He snapped out of his walking trance and shook his head. "Sorry. We're going to go meet that one man who offered us a job."

The squad headed to the diner and met up with the man. Nick sat down and gave a stern look to him. "My good man, we're here for that job in security."

Katie broke off from the squad and headed to where Celeste was. "Hey. So what's going to happen here?" She asked, playing with her Colt .45 pistol as she talked.

Jimmy Leggio

Celeste casually told Jimmy she wasn't sure what had happened and disengaged from the conversation. How am I to make friends with people if they are completely [censored], Jimmy mused angrily. He stretched and realised he was quite tired. I'll have to meet up with Rennie tomorrow and discuss the slave situation, Jimmy thought, yawning. It was the first day and Jimmy was running all over town after Rennie. He didn't appreciate it. Joe worked for Moriarty, so was no doubt a low-life scumbag, despite appearances. Jimmy was the wealthiest slave trader in the Capital Wasteland, perhaps in the whole trash heap that was once called America. It didn't feel too great.

Jimmy arrived at a row of houses near the metro. Linda was sitting on the ground outside one, smoking. Linda was quite a pretty young girl, not like most of the female slavers in Falls. Before Jimmy slit Eulogy Jones' throat in front of all the slavers who were employed there, the women would probably have been lined up and shot had they even considered having long hair. But Jimmy made sure that the slavers who accepted his command knew they weren't to act like raiders. Their actions now influenced Leggio & Associates. Most still looked like they had been face [censored] by a chainsaw. Linda was not at Falls prior to Jimmy's takeover, only about 20% were. She was short enough, but that didn't affect her shooting abilities. Neither did her long blonde hair, or her impressive pair of briasts. Jimmy held Linda in quite a high regard.

"Sir, we've found ourselves a couple of fine houses, all positioned next to each other. You, Laura and Lucille will be here," Linda explained, pointing to the house across the road from where they were talking in front of. "Us soldiers shall occupy the one we stand before, and of course the metro when necessary," Linda finished, and smiled her cute little smile.

"Well, there's no need to go near that metro, not until we get something to store there. I'll make an attempt to sort that after I've had a nice sleep. Good work, Linda, I thank you and hope you rest well," Jimmy replied. She nodded, quite proud to have seemingly earned the respect of her boss' boss.

"I doubt it will be that great seeing as I've to share a bed with Petey. Goodnight, sir." Linda disappeared into the house.

Jimmy crept into his new house. It wasn't that late, but Laura was sound asleep in the kind-sized, surprisingly clean bed. So too was Jimmy's little princess Lucille, in a small crib brought from Falls next to the king-sized bed. Jimmy felt something twitch in his suit trousers as he looked at the silent Laura, slowly breathing in her sleep. I can't wake her, not today. I'll treat her tomorrow, Jimmy thought as he lightly kissed her on the forehead. He then unchanged and crawled into bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

~~~

Jimmy awoke to the sound of Lucille crying in the crib next to the bed he had been sleeping in.

"I'll get it," Laura mumbled from next to Jimmy.

"No, go back to sleep Laura. I'll change and feed her, but I must go back into the diner and.. socialise. We'll do something special when I return," Jimmy assured as he dragged himself from the bed and changed.

After Jimmy fed Lucille (of course I don't have to change her, she's two) and played with her a bit, he set her back in her crib and kissed her. Laura was sound asleep. Jimmy then walked down the stairs and exited the house. It was a bright and toasty morning, and Jimmy removed his jacket, revealing a clean grey shirt. He approached Petey who was standing outside the house he was sleeping in.

"Mr Leggio, we are all ready to serve you," Petey announced, but Jimmy just strode by him.

"Tell them to go back to sleep," Jimmy commanded, and continued on to the center of Grayditch.

When Jimmy arrived in the diner, it was already occupied by people. Jimmy could see Rennie, but he was in a conversation with the boy who had pushed him yesterday. Hurry the [censored] up with that degenerate. Jimmy turned to take in the surroundings, with nothing to do but wait.

--Pawnee--

"Joe it is," the man replied, giving Pawnee a rather enthusiastic handshake, "and no. If I was mayor, I'm sure my job would be a little easier. I'm head of security for the town." He smiled warmly at the young fellow. "What are you here for? Do you have a trade friend?"

“I’m a scavenger,” Pawnee gave Joe a pearly smile, “I can find damn near anything. Speaking of which, since you seem to be the. . uh. . ,” Pawnee scratched his head, searching for the phrase, “the man about town, I was wondering if we’re all free to trade with the caravans. I saw one coming down road and wanted to deal with them. Also, if you’re interested, I’ll offer my scavenging talents to you, personally. If there’s anything in particular you need scrounged, whether it’s a new missile launcher, some high-tech Pip-Boy thingy-ma-jig, or a golden necklace for that very special someone, I’m your man.”

Pawnee winked at Joe, waiting for his responce.

FRIEDA

Frieda had a fairly satisfying conversation with Vict the evening before. She had suggested they open up a shop together, figuring if they concentrated the trades together they could pool resources, tools, and, well, profits. He said he'd let her know and she left it at that. Frieda walked down the main drag of the town and was thoroughly unimpressed with the corpse fire they started at the end of the road. She sighed and turned the corner, walking around the block, hoping to find somewhere that didn't face that fire OR the diner. She had some weird feeling that Celeste didn't like her -- odd, since the woman seemed to make a point to gush over everyone.

She found a house that was standing alone between two piles of rubble and seemed to have a yard in the back. The front of it faced east and was minimally boarded up. A hard yank nearly sent her sprawling as the board easily came off the door frame. The door had been locked at some point, but the hardware fell right into her hands and the door swung open. Better be careful, apparently there are some ghouls around. Frieda readied her plasma pistol and called into the house, hoping to stir whatever was in there. After a moment or two of complete stillness, she walked in, only to be greeted by a radroach that skittered out of the kitchen.

"Oh for [censored]'s sake," she muttered. She ducked out of the way of its lunge and put her bootheel through its head the moment it landed. Two more followed it from the kitchen. She blasted one and stomped on the second. She ducked through the kitchen doorway and frowned at the nest the roaches had made underneath the ruined table.

It only took her a few minutes to run through the entire house and clear it of the remaining roaches. She kicked their bodies down the sagging basemant staircase and shut the door, making her way upstairs. The master bedroom had a large window facing east, and there was a small pile of boards laying on the floor beneath it. The remaining board hung loosely by a single nail. Frieda smirked as she contemplated the rush in which it must have been boarded up in the first place. The bed still had its covers, but also two advlt skeletons, and an ancient bottle of pills laying between them. Not the most depressing thing she'd ever seen, but still sad. She wondered what she would do, herself, if she knew the world was ending and had nowhere safe to survive.

She tossed the skeletons to the floor and contemplated using the bedsheets but they disintegrated to her touch. Frieda pulled out a small blanket and rolled it up to put underneath her head. She kicked her boots off and tucked her legs up onto the bed, settling down for a snooze.

Frieda woke just before dawn, just before the sun rose. She had no memory of where she came from or what her life had been, but she knew that she woke up at the same time every morning and had to go for a run. She pulled out a pair of cut off shorts she made from a pair of men's striped pyjamas and stripped down to the black, body-fitting tank top underneath her shirt. Frieda took out her bedraggled ponytail, brushed her long hair and put it back into a ponytail, and strapped her pistol to her waist before heading out into the morning. Finally, she pulled on her boots and strapped them up tightly -- the only time of day she has them laced as such. The one time she didn't bring it, not only did she feel strangely naked, she ended up catching the attention of a giant, albino radscorpion, which caused her to run up a tree and perch for most of the day, until it scurried off to accost a passing band of feral dogs.

She ran back down the street, past what she realized was a ruined Metro entrance, more houses, and east into the sunrise, past the car yard, and into the Wasteland that began as soon as the town ended. Like every morning, she wondered why she felt so strongly that she had to run, as though something else inside her was forcing her to do it. Frieda tried, unsuccessfully, one morning to skip it, but she spent the day in a tizzy feeling strangely guilty and wholly preoccupied about it. Oh well, it doesn't take much time, and I end up feeling great about it when I'm done, was the conclusion she made then, and every morning before then as well. She ran for another few minutes east before making a wide circle and coming back towards town.

There was a trader coming in from the north. They were a bit more than a speck in the distance from Frieda. I hope they're bringing some water. The brahmin and the trader was well in town by the time she returned to its outskirts. She easily descended the slope into town and slowed to a jog as she approached the diner. It would appear that the town had woken up in the half hour she was gone and a handful of people had gathered there already. Frieda picked Pawnee out of the crowd -- not hard to do, considering his height -- and offered a short wave at him while she passed. She nodded at the trader and turned the corner, heading back towards her house to finish her work out. She couldn't start the day without finishing her run, then completing a set of a hundred each of sit ups and push ups.

(OOC: Yes, this is fanservice. Yes, I am compensating for basically everything, haha. So there )

James Wilson


EDIT:"I only just started being able to clean up in here, but the bar is spotless, are you sure you don't want to sit up there?" , opening the pop for james. "Sorry it's not cold, I need to get someone to help me sort out my fridge problem. It doesn't have a door," she giggled.

maybe i can find a new fridge for Celeste

Drink the nuka cola & snack cakes Celeste had given him James noticed the boy with his dog and come in and started talking to Joe about scavenging, an old guy was standing outside the dinner and group of mercs had walked in and were sitting at the counter

after finishing the snack cake james left 20 caps on counter and walked outside, when a smoking hot blonde was ran down the street, waving at the boy talking to Joe.

Wonder who that is?

The caravan had stopped near the dinner and James walked over and spoke to tech-looking trader a young guy, early 20's wearing a dirty lab coat, broken glasses and large hole in his right shoe.

“Howdy trader Dan here anything you want I can get”

“Do you have a working fission battery” James replied

“Yeah it’s yours for 50 caps”

After talking the trader Dan down to 45 caps James had a look at what the other traders had to sell food, water and general supplies but no guns, decided it wasn’t worth spending any more caps, walked back to dinner , a couple more poeple had entered

“Miss Celeste who did you says was the electrician again, there is a generator i need fixing ”


OOC:http://fallout.wikia.com/wiki/File:Fusion_Generator.png in the basemant of his house

CELESTE BROWN

Joe paused and fixed a cheeky grin. "So do I really come off as gay?" He asked with a chuckle. Celeste opened her mouth to answer when she heard James call for a Nuka Cola and something to eat. She reached underneath the bar for the pop and a package of snack cakes. When she straightened she saw Pawnee had come into the diner and was talking to Joe. She felt very glad to see that he was safe.

"Here you are," she beamed at James, placing the items onto the table in front of him. "I only just started being able to clean up in here, but the bar is spotless, are you sure you don't want to sit up there?" Celeste opened the pop for him. "Sorry it's not cold, I need to get someone to help me sort out my fridge problem. It doesn't have a door," she giggled. Celeste was returning to her spot behind the bar when the tall man with the short, dark hair, and a woman with dark hair but a pink headband. They were both fairly tall, and of course towered over Celeste and her short stature.

"Hey. So what's going to happen here?" the woman asked, playing with her Colt .45 pistol as she talked. Celeste instantly tensed.

"Is...is that a toy, to you?" she asked coldly, watching the woman twirl the gun around her finger absently. "I don't allow smoking in my bar, so I sure as [censored] don't appreciate people brandishing weapons. Put it away before I get Joe to remove you for threatening me."

FRIEDA

Frieda re-emerged from her house wearing her usual leggings, shorts, and green t-shirt. She had gingerly rinsed the sweat off her face, neck, and shoulders, in the rust-stained sink, and felt fantastic. Making sure to secure her pistol to her hips, again, she stepped back out into the morning sunshine.

The trader was standing around smoking. The man with the sling was walking back into the diner, apparently having finished his business. As Frieda passed the house next to the metal shack, she thought she heard a terrible groan come from inside. She furrowed her brow and slowed her pace for a moment, but when the sound didn't return, she carried on to the trader. She smiled and waved. "Good morning, friend!" she called to him.

The man turned his gaze towards her, and his face instantly broke into a wide smile. Typical. "Well good morning to you, sunshine. My name's Dan and I probably have what you're looking for -- and the items you want, too." He winked.

Sigh. "Have you got any purified water?" she asked.

"I do indeed, just picked up a crate from Jefferson myself. Looking for some refreshment, are you?"

"A bottle of water will do, thanks," she replied. Frieda dug around her shorts pockets for some caps and placed them into his outstretched hand.

Dan seemed to take the hint. "Hey, you don't happen to be Celeste Brown?"

"No," she answered, opening the bottle with a satisfying snap. "She's the short one with the brown hair, in there," she nodded at the diner.

"Ah. Well, there's a package here for her, would you mind just sending her out if you're heading in there?" Dan produced a small bundle from a coat pocket.

Frieda shrugged. "Yeah, sure." She turned to head inside the diner when she was stopped by Dan's finger tapping her on the shoulder.

"Oh, and if a Joe Rennie is in there, send him out, too. I have a package for him but, uh, I'm supposed to hand it right to him or some [censored]." Dan smiled.

There, being genuine isn't so bad now, is it? Frieda returned the smile. "No problem." She walked and entered the diner and immediately approached Buck, the dog, noticing Pawnee in a conversation with one of the men she remembered seeing shoot a ghoul the night before. "Morning, boy," she cooed to him softly, patting him on the head. She perched herself onto one of the bar stools and drank her warm water, waiting for when she could talk to Celeste. She sat down just in time to hear the younger woman chastise a third woman for playing with a gun.

Joe Rennie
“I’m a scavenger,” the young fellow replied, giving Joe a pearly smile, “I can find damn near anything. Speaking of which, since you seem to be the. . uh. . ,” The youngster fumbled for a second, looking for the right wording, finally settling on, “the man about town, I was wondering if we’re all free to trade with the caravans. I saw one coming down road and wanted to deal with them. Also, if you’re interested, I’ll offer my scavenging talents to you, personally. If there’s anything in particular you need scrounged, whether it’s a new missile launcher, some high-tech Pip-Boy thingy-ma-jig, or a golden necklace for that very special someone, I’m your man.”

Pawnee winked at Joe, waiting for his responce.

That's a convincing wink there son. Joe thought to himself, If I had more time I'd teach you how to master it. still he seems to have the basics, befriend the top dog, appear useful. You've got potential. He could be useful Joe.

"Of course, feel free." Joe smiled back. "Though there should be packages for me, Celeste and Harold," Joe slipped some caps from his pocket and dropped them into Pawnee's shirt pocket, "If you could tell them where we are, that would be a massive favor to me. I'll have a think about your speciality items and get back to you."

Joe turned in his seat untill he spotted another person he needed to speak to, Jimmy Leggio was standing nearby and from the way he was glaring at Pawnee, it seemed he had business with Joe also. "Look Pawnee, it's good to meet you," Joe said warmly, "But I really need a word with Mr. Johnson. You get along and we'll talk later."

Joe got Jimmy's attention and signalled the man to join him. As he finished waving, Uzi dropped into the seat next to him. "My good man, we're here for that job in security." He said, before Joe could greet him.

Ok, we'll talk security first. I hope Leggio is savvy enough to not give the game away here.

As Leggio arrived at the table, Joe gestured, offering him a seat. Then shook his hand. "It's fortunate that the two of you are both here,"

Play them off each other, say nothing yet act like they are both important. That should be enough to make them keep each other in check.

"But first, you appear to be looking for me Mr Johnson, so, how can I help you?"

OOC: I’m a ninja. Hehe. . .Skirt, play the timeline however you’d like, just talk to me whenever you’re ready

--Pawnee--

"Of course, feel free," Joe slipped some caps from his pocket and dropped them into Pawnee's shirt pocket, "there should be packages for me, Celeste and Harold. If you could tell them where we are, that would be a massive favor to me. I'll have a think about your specialty items and get back to you."

“No problem.”

Joe turned in his seat and seemed to be eyeing someone else.

“Look Pawnee, it's good to meet you," Joe said warmly, "But I really need a word with Mr. Johnson. You get along and we'll talk later."

Pawnee nodded and turned around. He saw someone walking up to Joe, the man who had cut in front of him in line the day before, Jimmy.

“Howdy there, partner,” Pawnee said as he passed Jimmy. He made an obnoxiously broad grin, “saw that woman you came in with from the window of my pad. Mighty fine piece you’ve got there. Make sure you keep an eye on her. Sweets things like her don’t come around every day.”

Without waiting for Jimmy to react, Pawnee stepped away with a cocky swagger. He heard Buck panting a bit behind him. Someone was petting him.

Frieda. . .my, my. . .speaking of fine women. . .

Pawnee chuckled to himself. He retrieved the music box from his bag and walked over to Frieda.

“Hey Frieda,” Pawnee cooed, “saw you jogging down the street earlier. You looked really nice.”

Frieda turned to face him.

“Anyway. . .,” Pawnee put the music box on the counter top, “I wanted you to take a look at this. If you have the time. It’s a music box – still in pretty good condition – but it looks like the electronics are fried. Think you could fix it? Looks like it might play a really pretty tune. Did you ever have one of your own?”

Nick Parker

"Is...is that a toy to you?" Nick heard as Katie was playing around with her pistol. He smiled as she acted like a curious 5 year old. Of course, she hasn't ever held a military grade pistol until she joined up with the squad.

"I don't allow smoking in my bar, so I sure as [censored] don't appreciate people brandishing weapons. Put it away before I get Joe to remove you for threatening me," Celeste said coldly. Katie retorted pretty harshly. "So what?! You don't have to be such a..."

Nick snapped at her, "Katie! Just put it down," He said. She reluctantly put the gun down and gave a glare to Celeste. Nick sighed and put his Uzi to safety, trying to keep this from turning into an argument about firearms in Greyditch.

He turned back to who he guessed was Joe. "Er...sorry about that. But in any case, in security standards, my crew is very good as they had demonstrated in the feral ghoul incident. Give me your best offer."

FRIEDA

“Hey Frieda,” a familiar voice cooed, “saw you jogging down the street earlier. You looked really nice.”

Frieda turned to face him, tossing her ponytail aside as she did so. I was a sweaty, panting mess, but if you say so. She welcomed the distraction from waiting to talk to Celeste.

“Anyway. . .,” Pawnee put the music box on the counter top, “I wanted you to take a look at this. If you have the time. It’s a music box – still in pretty good condition – but it looks like the electronics are fried. Think you could fix it? Looks like it might play a really pretty tune. Did you ever have one of your own?”

Did I have one of my own? her mind repeated. How the hell would I know? Was I ever a young girl? Frieda hoped her face didn't show the sudden sadness she felt as she posed herself those questions and painted a broad smile on her face. "Sure, I must have," she lied. "Let's see what we've got. If I can fix it, I want half of what you sell it for, hehe."

She picked up the music box, trading it for her bottle of water, and cracked it open. A tiny figurine popped up but remained motionless. Frieda turned it around in her hands and flipped a switch on the back off and on, and still nothing. "Hmmm," she began thoughtfully, "I'll have to open it up, but I left my tools behind in my house. I'll go and get them." Frieda looked up and smiled back to Pawnee. "Hang on to it for another minute, and I'll be right back."

Frieda picked up her bottle of water just as she heard the man with his arm in sling call to Celeste. “Miss Celeste who did you says was the electrician again, there is a generator i need fixing ”. She turned towards the voice.

"I'm the electrician," she introduced herself. "My name's Frieda. I was just about to go get my tools from my place. Meet me outside in the sunlight in five minutes -- until I get a proper shop set up, I need some good lighting."

CELESTE BROWN

The woman with the dark hair looked offended. "So what?! You don't have to be such a..."

"Katie! Just put it down," the dark haired man she came in with snapped at her.

Celeste watched with satisfaction as the woman did as she was told. "Good thing your boyfriend knows how to mind his manners," she sneered. While waiting for a response, James walked back in.

“Miss Celeste who did you says was the electrician again, there is a generator i need fixing."

Again with the titles. Oh well. Celeste opened her mouth to reply but Frieda herself answered. When did SHE walk in? ...and she's with Pawnee. Celeste was a little disappointed that Pawnee didn't even greet her. She pouted and decided to just get back to work. She bent over to pick up her bucket and carried it around the bar to the first booth in the corner and started washing down the table and benches.

OOC: Sorry for the absence fellas. Got sidetracked IRL.

BIC:

Jesse Christophe

The Regulator trudged into one of the empty houses once it was past dark, and shuffled up the creaky staircase. Better than nothing. he shrugged upon entering the bedroom. It was a small and incredibly aged building, and the room seemed like it was about to fall apart. Against the far wall lay a single iron-frame bed with a dirty mattress. Having come all the way from the Regulators HQ, and having dealt with the ghoul situation earlier, Jesse was absolutely exhausted. For any other regulator it would have been all in a days work, but at his age, it took a toll on him.

Without another word, he stood his rifle against the bed, hung his coat on a nail sticking out of the wall, and dropped into bed, snoring away before long.

--The Next Day--

Having gotten a complete nights sleep, Jesse awoke in the morning and stretched. Damn, this mattress is worse than I thought. he scrunched his face, clutching his back as he rose to slip his duster on, before grabbing his rifle and washing his face in the bathroom sink. Moments later, Jesse made his way down to the diner in the pleasant morning daylight.

"What's for breakfast?" were his first words, as he plopped into the nearest empty booth.

James Wilson


"My name's Frieda. I was just about to go get my tools from my place. Meet me outside in the sunlight in five minutes -- until I get a proper shop set up, I need some good lighting."

Frieda what kind of name is that? & Why does Celeste look so angry?

After Frieda left James went back to his house, sue was eating some sugar bombs in the kitchen “can you help me lift the generator upstairs “After five minutes dragging the generator up the staircase and outside, Frieda was waiting outside with her tools and sue went back inside to finish her breakfast.

“It looks like it power supply burned out, I brought a fission battery early to fix it but I’m no good at repairing electronics”

(OOC: excellent, let's keep Celeste busy, bwa ha ha)

CELESTE BROWN

Jesse flopped into the booth nearest the door. When she looked over, he caught her eye and asked "What's for breakfast?"

She straightened and dropped her rag into the bucket. Drying her hands on the front of her blue shirt, she smiled. "Good morning, Mr. Christophe! As for breakfast, it's slim pickings, I'm afraid. I'm trying to get this place into some presentable shape and haven't had a moment to even see if the caravan has brought in anything fresh." Celeste put a hand on her hip and thrust it out to the side, thoughtfully. "Dad -- I mean, Mr. Moriarty," she corrected herself in an attempt at professionalism, "seemed to think we'd have had more time to set up before the settlers rolled in. Catching up has been...frustrating." She shot a look at the woman called Katie with her final comment.

"I've probably got some snack cakes, though, or those packaged candy apples. Not the healthiest but I doubt you need to worry about your figure," Celeste nodded at him.

Jesse Christophe

Celeste approached him at his call. Hmm, good service. he noticed.

"Good morning, Mr. Christophe! As for breakfast, it's slim pickings, I'm afraid. I'm trying to get this place into some presentable shape and haven't had a moment to even see if the caravan has brought in anything fresh." she said, smiling.

Blah, Blah, Blah.

"Dad -- I mean, Mr. Moriarty, seemed to think we'd have had more time to set up before the settlers rolled in. Catching up has been...frustrating." she continued, glaring at another woman.

I'm getting old here.

"I've probably got some snack cakes, though, or those packaged candy apples. Not the healthiest but I doubt you need to worry about your figure" she completed, nodding to him.

The last comment caused him to smile to himself, he began blushing visibly for a moment, but got rid of it before long. Damn it, control yourself Jesse. he thought to himself, struggling to control his smile.

"Some snack cakes would be nice." he answered finally with a smile of his own. "Please." he added politely. It may not have seemed like much, but this was the regulator on his best behavior for the young lady. He hoped she might appreciate that, as it was completely unlike him to speak in anything more than grunts and groans.

CELESTE BROWN

"Some snack cakes would be nice." Jesse answered with a smile of his own. "Please."

What a gentleman! Celeste thought happily to herself. It's nice to finally encounter some manners in this place. "Coming right up!' she chirped. Celeste made her way back behind the bar and rummaged through what she had, finally coming up with the snack cakes she had offered. She dropped them off in front of Jesse and gave him another warm smile. "Let me know if you need anything else. I'll just be over there, cleaning away," she winked.

Celeste sauntered off back to the booth in the corner and resumed wiping down the table. She leaned right over and finished cleaning the surface, noticing the tabletop matched the bar. Satisfied, she moved on to cleaning the benches, her bum straight in the air, and no concept of how ridiculous she looked.

Joe Rennie.

Joe had to hold back a smile. Over at the bar, the woman who had come in with Uzi, had upset Celeste by waving about a pistol. Immediately Celeste had used his name as a threat, saying if the woman didn't put it away Joe would throw her out. Uzi turned and snapped an order at her, making her quieter, if not shutting her up completely.

Usually Joe would try to avoid being picked out from the crowd in this manner, it could make him a target. But these were hard men, it would help if they saw more than just Joe sitting there. They needed to see that he was hard too. Easier said than done, but well, you can't fool an honest man. These two... Probably crooked.

Uzi turned back to Joe, seeming a little ruffled and said, "Er...sorry about that. But in any case, in security standards, my crew is very good as they had demonstrated in the feral ghoul incident. Give me your best offer."

Good. He doesn't like being on the back foot. Doesn't like that I spoke to Jimmy first.

"Your team did well last night, certainly. But then so did the old fellow with the gimpy leg. I'm not clamouring to recruit him. Look, we both know how this works. I make an offer, you get all offended and demand.... What? Twenty percent more? I'll tell you what, how about you tell me what you're worth." Joe turned his head so he was facing Jimmy.

"And I intend to hire some of the men who helped you to move here Mr. Johnson I intend to post guards at the metro entrance. We can't be too careful after last night's ghoul attack. I hope you won't mind arranging that. I'll be paying them whatever our friend here and I agree on."

He turned back to Uzi. "So, what do you say?"