--Pawnee--

Pawnee watched Frieda walk away. He scrunched his face. He didn’t like the way she had looked at the music box. Something was off about her reaction.

She treated it like any other hunk of scrap. . .

Pawnee’s eyes wandered across the diner. He saw Celeste scrub down a counter top, and then walk over to the regulator from the previous day. She was still wearing a chipper a smile. She always seemed chipper.

Tough act to keep up round here. . .

Pawnee listened in on their conversation

“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. . .”

Pawnee furrowed his brow. He eyed the caravan and watched Celeste serve the man with a smile. She then went back to work, scrubbing the floor, her rear end waving back and forth high in the air.

Guess she’s the town mom, eh?

Pawnee walked over to Celeste and coughed to get her attention.

“Morning Miss Celeste,” he began, “I overheard you talking to that regulator over there – Mr. Christophe - about not having a lot of food. Yesterday you asked me to help clean up this place, but I’m not one for scrubbing. If you want me to buy some food off the caravans for you or search out things for the diner, I’d be more than glad. I’ll take a meal here and there as payment. Just tell me whatever you need and I’ll scour the wastes till I get it. How’s that sound?”

Jesse Christophe

"Coming right up!" Celeste answered, and scurried over behind the bar to fetch it for him.

"Thanks." he grinned, as she placed the snack cakes in front of him.

"Let me know if you need anything else. I'll just be over there, cleaning away," she said, winking.

Again with the pvssyr and winks?

Jesse sat quietly and watched Celeste clean as he ate, admiring the contours of her young, feminine body. Stop staring you bastard. he thought to himself, his eyes darting back to his plate. If she saw you, you're dead. Once the regulator had finished his meal, he ducked out of the diner, but not before helping Celeste by returning the plate back to behind the bar, so as to save her the trip.

Now it's time to build that damn wall. First thing any settlement does is seal themselves off. Even the kids at Bigtown know that. Some security we have here. If you want anything done, you gotta do it yourself. he realized as he paced towards where he had found the rubble earlier. If anyone has any sense, they'll join me sooner or later.

CELESTE BROWN

Celeste hummed to herself as she finished cleaning the area underneath the booth in the corner. She was backing out from underneath the table as she heard Pawnee speak behind her.

“Morning Miss Celeste,” he began, “I overheard you talking to that regulator over there – Mr. Christophe - about not having a lot of food. Yesterday you asked me to help clean up this place, but I’m not one for scrubbing. If you want me to buy some food off the caravans for you or search out things for the diner, I’d be more than glad. I’ll take a meal here and there as payment. Just tell me whatever you need and I’ll scour the wastes till I get it. How’s that sound?”

"Hmm? What?" she replied a little out of breath. She wiped some sweat off her forehead with the palm of her hand. "Oh, good morning, Pawnee! Please, drop the 'miss' business, it's just Celeste." She smiled broadly, happy to be speaking to him. "By the way, I'm really sorry for yesterday. Did you find a place to sleep?" Celeste wiped the sweat off her hand on the backside of her denim skirt. "You know what, if you could go out to that caravan and figure out what he's brought in, I would really appreciate it! I would have no trouble letting you have a meal whenever you wanted, if you could help out that way."

She smirked, then, and couldn't help herself by adding, "I noticed you're friends with Frieda. I hope she's nice to you, or she'll have to answer to me."

Jimmy Leggio

Eventually, Joe turned his attention to Jimmy, beckoning him over. Jimmy made his way towards Rennie. As he was, the young man who had so rudely pushed him the day previous passed him.

“Howdy there, partner,” the young fool said as they walked by each other, “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.” Jimmy turned violently towards the man with a balled fist, but he had quickly made his way from the diner, and was ow beginning a conversation with the attractive blonde woman Jimmy had seen the evening prior. You don't have a chance, son, Jimmy thought as the boy continued his conversation. Jimmy then looked at his fist. You're not getting any younger Jimmy, best avoid trouble. Jimmy looked back at Joe, who offered a seat at a table to Jimmy. Jimmy sat down and shook Joe's hand.

Another man was also sitting at the table. Ah yes, the boy with the uzi. I do wonder what happened there.

"It's fortunate that the two of you are both here," Joe began, looking from Jimmy to the uzi fellow. "But first, you appear to be looking for me Mr Johnson, so, how can I help you?" Jimmy looked uncomfortably at the uzi carrier, trying to figure a way to ask how to obtain slaves without explicably stating anything. Before he could respond a noise came from behind. Celeste and another woman seemed to be in an argument. The one Jimmy had never seen was holding a Colt .45. The two argued about the gun before the uzi man intervened, naming the Colt .45 girl.

"Katie! Just put it down," he snapped, obviously frustrated with the woman's ignorance. He then turned back to 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."

Crew? Offer? What the [censored] is going on here? "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 replied before turning to 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." Jimmy smiled. Sneaky.

"Indeed, Mr Rennie. My trip is over and have no need for armed guards, especially in such a safe environment," Jimmy replied, letting out a hearty chuckle. "Now, Joe. Once you've introduced me to your friend here, I was hoping you could give me a rundown of the nearby settlements. My family would like to explore, you see."

Harold

The bedsprings screached in protest as Harold sat upright. He rotated his huge head to the side slowly, grunting in satisfaction as the joints in his neck popped and cracked. His head ached and his palms were beginning to itch. Harold leaned over and reached over to the bedside table and...... Harold's hand closed on empty air.

"What the [censored]?" He mumbled to himself as he turned his head. The bottle was gone. He had left his Buffout there the night before. He as sure he had. He'd popped a couple before he went to sleep. Then put it there.

He retraced the events of the night before. He had cleared the street with Rennie and the others, then returned to Rennie's house. He had gone right upstairs and found Mr Moriarty's daughter asleep in one of the rooms. Harold wasn't sure why she was here. But Rennie appeared to be staying downstairs, so he thought no more of it. He claimed the largest bed in the house as his own. Falling into it as some of the ancient springs gave out with loud pings.

Then he had fished out the tub, popped a couple and slept.

"So where the [censored] are they?" Harold climbed off the bed and went downstairs to get answers from Rennie. Harold stopped at the top of the stairs and looked into the room below. Rennie was gone! Had he escaped already? One day on this job and he'd failed Mr Moriarty already. Harold had never failed a job for Mr Moriarty. He had to admit that he'd enjoy the hunt though.

Harold would enjoy killing Rennie once he caught him. Who did he think he was? It was foolish of him to think he could steal Harold's pills. He'd kill Rennie and get the pills back. They cost Mr Moriarty a lot of money, but Mr Moriarty always made sure Harold got more, whenever he ran out. Just thinking about the Buffout was making Harold's throat dry.

He headed into the kitchen and turned a tap on, producing a thick brown gruel that dripped into the sink. Harold kicked the pipes connecting the sink to the wall, the pipe let out a loud bang and began to clank and rattle. The flow sputtered for a few seconds, spraying the brown mess everywhere, then the flow steadied and clearer water flowed.

Harold began opening cupbords, looking for a cup, or glass, even an empty can to drink from. He pulled open the door below the sink. The pills were there. "How the [censored] did they get here?" Harold glanced about as he pulled the cap from the tub. He poured a couple into his mouth and crunched the pills. "Rennie!"

Harold stomped out of the house, determined to find Rennie and get answers.


Joe Rennie.

"Indeed, Mr Rennie. My trip is over and have no need for armed guards, especially in such a safe environment," Jimmy replied, letting out a hearty chuckle. "Now, Joe. Once you've introduced me to your friend here, I was hoping you could give me a rundown of the nearby settlements. My family would like to explore, you see."

Joe had to cover a smile, this guy was quick. He immediately took up his part of the lie, without a single tell to show there was anything dishonest happening.

Joe turned back to Uzi, "You know Mr Johnson, I don't believe I've had the pleasure either. What is your name friend?"

Duncan Talson

Duncan was woken by the rays of sunshine that broke the clouds, he yawned loudly and then rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Morning Jane” he said pleasantly when he felt he was adequately ‘up’. The beast replied with a soft moo that she didn’t want to be disturbed. He decided to grant her wish and went about looking for fire wood, he had decided he would enjoy a cup of coffee this morning and to do that he would need a fire. When the fire was lit he reached into his pack and produced a small cooking pot, a mug made from wood that he’d bought from one of the tribes out west, a bottle of clean water and a small jar of coffee. His shoulders sagged as he saw he had perhaps enough for at least the most three more cups, oh well he thought three’s better than none I guess. When his coffee was finished he packed up his gear and then he checked to make sure nothing was pilfered during the night, when he was satisfied he attached the trailer to Jane and continued on his way.

As Duncan made his way up a hill he saw the outskirts of the town, “My god this place looks like a dump” he said quietly the sun was getting higher in the sky and he surmised most of the residents would be awake and now would be as a good a time as any to introduce himself. He passed an old makeshift wall and travelled east on the road for a little and then saw a diner come into view. He saw people milling around the joint and decided it’s best he start there with his introductions he made his way down and saw a caravan that had set up shop excellent he thought I’ll be able to unload these goods. As he made his way over to the diner and discerned it was breakfast or there about at least. He hitched Jane up to some old rubble pile and made his way inside. He went to the counter and saw a woman with a large chest he smiled as he said “The names Duncan Mam, anywhere I could get a job around here?”

(OOC: why does everyone think she has a funny name? :sadvaultboy: Also, please note it's been since early undergrad that I did anything involving physics, I'm not really an electrician...do not try this at home.)

FRIEDA

As she passed the trader for the fourth time on her way back towards the diner, she gave Dan a smile and a nod. He gave her a quizzical look, and she didn't blame him -- she was hauling a table and chair, with her toolbag hanging off the crook of her arm, with her. Frieda set the items up across the road from the diner, next to the little yard behind the metal shack. She would have set up directly in front of the diner, but someone had tied down his brahmin there, and she didn't want to clutter up its facade.

She carefully laid out her tools along the table and perched onto the seat. Frieda turned towards the diner to beckon Pawnee over, but James had a different plan. He startled her by dropping the massive generator onto the ground at her feet. “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," he said gruffly.

"Good thing I'm around, then," she smiled in response. "Where's the battery?"

James tossed it into her lap. Frieda pulled out a strange looking gauge tool from her collection with a skinny, rubber-encased probe coming out of each side. She attached the probe, one to each pole of the battery, and watched the needle on the gauge jump up towards the middle. "Your battery has about half its life left," she commented, and then smiled. "Literally, in a couple senses." When James didn't reply, she chuckled nervously. "Okay, then..."

Frieda disconnected the gauge and turned her focus to the generator. She turned it slightly on the ground to get the best possible light shining on it and squinted for a moment, squatting down to get a close look. She unscrewed a small panel on the side and found the old battery. Frieda removed it and noticed that the wires connected to the positive pole on the battery had frayed. "This just got more complicated," she muttered. She reached up for her Phillips head and began to unscrew the main casing of the generator, hoping she could simply re-wire it and that there wasn't more damage inside.

The casing separated from the base with a metallic groan and scraqe. It was heavier than Frieda expected and she nearly dropped it onto James' toes, though he reached out with his good hand in time to keep it from doing so. She crouched back down to study the intestines of the beast. Its overall electrical structure wasn't too complicated, and she easily followed the wire line from where it connected to the battery into where it went within the generator.

Frieda put her gloves on and got to work. In twenty minutes or so, she had removed the old wire, measured out some new wire, and soldered it to its connections. "Okay, James, if you could just help me with the casing. Lower it slowly so I can put the battery connectors through it, yes that's it," she directed as he used his body weight as leverage to slowly lower the casing back into its base. "Perfect, set it all the way down, now."

Another ten minutes later and the generator was put back together and whirring away. "Not bad," she remarked, satisfied with both her work and how well the ancient generator was operating. "I'll take five caps for the wire, a cap for the solder, and ten for the labour," she chirped as she pulled her gloves off and wiped some sweat off her brow. Frieda glanced over her shoulder back into the diner, hoping Pawnee hadn't lost patience for her.

Vict left the diner and looked for some materials to help Drifter with his hoe. He had a small amount of luck. He found some suitable scrap metal. Now he just really needed a heat source and some other tools. The sun was starting to set. Vict wasn't exactly comfortable with the dark in a decently uninhabited place. With only a few people around and the sound of gunfire ringing out, he decided to stay out of this fight. He'd seek some shelter and take it easy for the night.

He searched around and found a row of buildings. He got in one that was obviously unoccupied. He searched around for anything that might harm him, and decided it would be okay to sleep in. It had apparently been a house before, as it had a stove and fridge. He also found a bed. Not the most comfortable, but anything was better than the floor. He had found a place where everyone found him to be useful. He thought it was a good place to settle. He also remembered that Frieda was an electrician. Not a bad person to start a business with. Plus, he wouldn't mind being around someone as good looking as her. That Celeste girl seemed okay, but damn was she dumb. As he thought this, he drifted off to sleep.

He woke up at the crack of dawn and headed towards the diner. Along the way, he saw Frieda working on what seemed to be a generator. There was another man that was next to her. He wouldn't let that get in his way. He was here to work and make friends, so why not? Now's the time if there was one. He walked up to Frieda with a smile, tipped his hat and said "Hello there. If you don't know, I'm Vict. I'm a metalworker even though I'm a little short on some tools. Hopefully I can get a welder and a torch soon. Need any help?"

James wilson


I'll take five caps for the wire, a cap for the solder, and ten for the labour," she chirped as she pulled her gloves off and wiped some sweat off her brow, whilst glancing , looking back at the diner.

“Here you go” whilst paying Frieda 20 caps, James noticed a small symbol on her plasma pistol and boots

Where have I seen that symbol before?

James was about to drag the generator back inside a man walked up to them and Introduce himself “Hello there. If you don't know, I'm Vict. I'm a metalworker even though I'm a little short on some tools. Hopefully I can get a welder and a torch soon. Need any help?"

“ hello to you to, the names James Wilson, gun store owner I don’t need a metalworker right now but that regulator guy mention building a wall, I think he’s in the dinner” James replied

EDIT: whilst Frieda and vict started talking about setting up a shop, James dragged the generator back inside and placed it next to the house's Fusebox and plugged in it and within seconds the lights turned back on…

OOC: Aww skirt, its just unique.

--Pawnee--

Celeste smirked, “"I noticed you're friends with Frieda. I hope she's nice to you, or she'll have to answer to me."

Before Pawnee could respond, a bald man with a crooked nose walked up to Celeste.

The man smiled to her, “the names Duncan Mam, anywhere I could get a job around here?”

Celeste’s attention was immediately diverted to Duncan. Pawnee wasn’t surprised. Celeste seemed to have the attention span of a small rodent, but she was nice, and very few people in the wasteland were nice. One thing Pawnee had learned in his 18 years on the planet, and that most people in the wasteland never had, was that nice people were good to have around. Nice people wouldn’t try to cheat you in a deal. Nice people would talk you up to strangers for nothing in return. And nice people would give you a cap when you were down on your luck.

The world needs more people like her. . .got enough people like me already. . .

Panwee looked down at Buck and clicked his tongue on his cheek, signaling the dog to move on.

The caravan was less than a block away from Celeste’s Diner. Pawnee walked up to it and scanned a spread of scavenge that the caravaner had displayed on a long sheet of brahmin skin. Among the scavenge was some mutfruit, soft shell mirelurk, and punga from Point Lookout. Pawnee traded all of his extra scavenge for the food and then asked the caravaner about the packages for Joe. The man had them but would only give them to their intended recipients.

Pawnee shrugged to himself and began to make his way back to the diner, keeping an eye out for Frieda as he made his way across the street.

(OOC: @Lewis, Frieda will stay outside for a bit, hehe.)

FRIEDA

Out of the corner of her eye, a familiar cowboy hat-clad man sauntered up to where she and James were standing. “Hello there. If you don't know, I'm Vict. I'm a metalworker even though I'm a little short on some tools. Hopefully I can get a welder and a torch soon. Need any help?"

“ hello to you to, the names James Wilson, gun store owner I don’t need a metalworker right now but that regulator guy mention building a wall, I think he’s in the diner” James replied.

Frieda tucked the twenty caps into her pocket as James turned to drag his generator back to his house. Pretty good tip. This guy seems to 'get' it. She turned her attention back to Vict. "Good morning," she greeted him. "I don't need any help for now, no. It's sweet of you to offer." She leaned back against the table upon which her eclectic tool collection was spread out. "Have you given any more thought about opening up a shop? It would make sense, considering our trades." Frieda actually giggled. "I came up with a clever title: Spark and Flame. What do you think?"



CELESTE BROWN

Her conversation was cut completely short by the appearance of a man with a shaved head and a crooked nose. He smelled like a brahmin and sweat. "The names Duncan, ma'am, anywhere I could get a job around here?”

I swear I get a new wrinkle every time someone uses a title. "Good to meet you, Duncan! My name is Celeste Brown, it's just Celeste, no need for a ma'am or miss." She brushed some hair off her forehead before continuing. "Do you have a trade, Duncan? We're sort of short of skilled workers, but there is plenty to do, no worry about that. There are also plenty of houses, if you are looking for one." She smiled. "Why don't you sit down, preferably at the bar or at that one booth in the corner -- those places are clean -- and I'll get you a snack."

She glanced outside and saw a brahmin was actually standing next to the diner. "Oh, you do have a brahmin," she mused aloud.

OOC: Frieda & vict are now talking about their shop….

James Wilson

Walking around his house, James checked all of the electrical items to see if they worked, 4 out 5 lights worked (the bathroom light was broken) despite no having a door the fridge had turned on and the fan in basemant was working.

Well worth 65 caps but still where have I seen that symbol? , Doesn’t matter right now that girl did a good job fixing that generator but I think Celeste doesn’t like her .

Walking back outside; Frieda was still talking to vict about naming of their shop, the boy with his dog had walked back to the dinner and a guy with a shaven head had walked in and started talking to Celeste, overhearing his name was Duncan

james Took a seat on the counter and waited to what the others in town where going to do today.

Nick Parker

As Nick started to negotiate the business deals, another person, the person who his squad pursued to get here, sat down. After a bit of exchange, Joe asked for Nick's name. "You know Mr Johnson, I don't believe I've had the pleasure either. What is your name friend?"

Nick extended his hand. "Nick Parker. I'm the leader of our band of assassins."

He thought for a moment, wondering what the price would be. Nick sighed and decided on original price. "Standard fee is 1000 caps a week and free housing for my crew."

Duncan Talson


Duncan looked at the woman with courteous smile as she replied "Good to meet you, Duncan! My name is Celeste Brown, it's just Celeste, no need for a ma'am or miss." She brushed some hair off her forehead before continuing. "Do you have a trade, Duncan? We're sort of short of skilled workers, but there is plenty to do, no worry about that. There are also plenty of houses, if you are looking for one." She smiled. "Why don't you sit down, preferably at the bar or at that one booth in the corner -- those places are clean -- and I'll get you a snack." he was about to politely decline the invitation for a snack when he heard her say as much to herself as anyone one else "Oh you do have a Brahmin".

He decided he would take a seat, after all no need to rush off and make himself seem rude, although he had slight inkling he had when he saw a very young man who looked like he had been in a conversation leave soon after he'd barged in. He decided he'd try to make amends later on then took a seat and turned to Celeste. "Well ma'.... sorry Celeste what I do have is skills in agriculture, used to live on an old farmstead and learnt many things there such as how to cultivate soil, grow mutfruit in any conditions, fix things with materials on hand, after all not many caravans came out our way, also know a bit about things that probably shouldn't be said at the breakfast table." He gave a small chuckle at his joke then continued on. "After that I was a caravan guard and driver for 20 odd years been from here to Chicago, California, Vegas and up North to, so this .357 on my thigh ain't just for show neither, things up there are fairly nasty for a man of my trade particularly in the Pitt, like this one time....." he cut himself off before he started to bore the young girl and adressed her statement about housing. "No need for a house ma'.... sorry Celeste"

arrgh I keep doing it he thought to himself "one day i'll get it right" he gave another chuckle and continued "But like I was saying no need for a house, never have enjoyed staying in the old pre war buildings, so I was thinking of pitching a tent any suggestions of prime locations?" he had a slight stretch as he waited for her, sleeping on the road always seemed to make him stiff but there'll be no more of that he thought happily to himself.

Joe Rennie.

"Nick Parker. I'm the leader of our band of assassins." Uzi said, holding his hand out for Joe to shake. Joe clasped it firmly, giving his usual enthusiastic handshake.

I've seen more professional killers. Usually they're not the type to announce just what they are. Probably trying to intimidate the "clothier". Doubt Jimmy's worried though somehow.

Parker appeard to mull over a price in his head before stating, "Standard fee is one thousand caps a week and free housing for my crew."

Two thousand a week!? It's outrageous. The town won't make that. Not to begin with at least. Still they won't need to know that, not till pay day at least.

Joe glanced around the bar, appearing to consider Nick's offer. He spotted Celeste talking to a bald fellow near the bar. Other locals were coming and going as the meeting progressed.
Once Joe considered enough time to have passed he replied.

"One thousand caps seems fair. Five man crew isn't it? Two hundred each, yes, that seems fair. Though you will provide your own food, drink and supplies. That ok with you?" He turned to Jimmy. "Would you mind arranging that with your helpers too please Mr Johnson? I'll need you both to arrange some men to help Jesse Cristophe. He's the regulator fellow I hired last night. He's setting up some defenses for the town." Joe turned back and faced Parker. "Could you arrange for two men each to assist him in the construction please Nick?"

Once more he faced Leggio "As for your question about the surrounding area. I'm afraid that I only arrived yesterday myself. I believe that Harold actually scouted the area for Mr Moriarty. If you direct your questions to him then I'm sure that he'll be of much more use to you."

Almost on queue the giant lumbered through the door. His face was flushed with anger and his hand twitched dangerously close to his shotgun.

"Ah, Harold," Joe lept up from his seat and crossed to the brute. Hopefully he'll stick to the cover story. But if he attacks then my new employees will be forced to assist me.
"Glad you could finally join us," he loudly announced. He crossed the room and added in a quieter voice. "Also, I apologise for moving your... Personal items from your room. But we had a guest last night. How would it have looked if Celeste found that beside your bed."

The brute paused for a moment and appeared to contemplate what Joe had said to him. Joe pressed further siezing the initiaive. "I understand Harold. You have needs. But you can't leave that kind of thing lying around, understand?" Before Harold could answer Joe continued talking. "Mr Johnson has a few questions about sightseeing for you." He patted Harold on the shoulder and turned to the door.

"Nick, would you please accompany me while I look for Jesse. I wan't to hear what he has planned." Without waiting for an answer Joe retreated from the diner.

CELESTE BROWN

Duncan rubbed his chin as he replied. "Well ma'.... sorry Celeste what I do have is skills in agriculture, used to live on an old farmstead and learnt many things there such as how to cultivate soil, grow mutfruit in any conditions, fix things with materials on hand, after all not many caravans came out our way, also know a bit about things that probably shouldn't be said at the breakfast table." He gave a small chuckle at his joke then continued on. "After that I was a caravan guard and driver for 20 odd years been from here to Chicago, California, Vegas and up North to, so this .357 on my thigh ain't just for show neither, things up there are fairly nasty for a man of my trade particularly in the Pitt, like this one time....." he trailed off before continuing.

"But like I was saying no need for a house, never have enjoyed staying in the old pre war buildings, so I was thinking of pitching a tent any suggestions of prime locations?"

Celeste's mind had wandered. Place names like Chicago, California, and Vegas meant nothing to her. "Hmm? Oh, well...I've never used a tent before! I'm not sure what would be defined as a 'prime location.'" She grinned up at the man. He was sweet, though he indicated he had been a hard man for a time in his life. "Did you ever make it up around Ronto? That's where I'm from, born and raised." She paused thoughtfully for a moment. "It'll be great to have a farmer, everyone just this morning was asking to eat and all I've got are some boxed snack cakes and a box of cereal." The thought of fresh milk and fruit preoccupied her from the conversation momentarily. Her stomach grumbled and she realized she hadn't eaten since early the day before.

She was about to engage Duncan again when Harold stepped in looking hot and bothered. Her stomach fluttered a little bit, suddenly remembering what Joe had said about him. Poor man, with a drug addiction and a thing for Joe that he'll never get back in return. He is scary on the outside but must be in so much pain on the inside. She blushed slightly, remembering that the information she had was a secret, and tried to make sure no one saw her reaction to his entrance.

"Ah, Harold," Joe stood up from his seat across the diner and crossed to meet the larger man. "Glad you could finally join us," he loudly announced. Joe then leaned in and mumbled something Celeste couldn't hear from where she stood. She strained her ears but was unable to eavesdrop. "Mr Johnson has a few questions about sightseeing for you," Celeste heard him say next. Joe patted Harold on the shoulder and turned to the door.

"Nick, would you please accompany me while I look for Jesse. I want to hear what he has planned." Without waiting for an answer Joe retreated from the diner.

Duncan was about to say something else to Celeste but she interrupted him before he could start with a wink and a smile. "Duncan, welcome to Grayditch! I hope you don't mind, I am very busy here, as you can see I have a lot of cleaning to finish up. Take your time walking through town, or just sit and take a load off. There's a caravaner just down the street if you need anything." With that, she retrieved her soap bucket but frowned at the black colour the water had turned. Better refresh this.

"Excuse me, everyone, I need to step out for a minute and find myself some clean water. I'll return in a moment!" she announced. Celeste leaned out the door and dumped the disgusting water onto the ground, before bounding into the street towards her house. She saw that Frieda was again talking to the wielder, Vict, and felt a pang of irritation. Why does everyone want to just talk to her, but demand things of me?

Drifter yawned sleepily as he shoved open the door of the green building.Rays of sunlight burst into his eyes,leaving him a bit dazed.Shaking off the momentary blindness,he continued up the street towards the diner.

Drifter blinked twice to comprehend what he saw.A caravan!If the old bastard could jump and click his heels together,he damn sure would.Oh,what a well placed elbow under his left shoulder-blade could do...

He walked up to the stocky caravaneer and introduced himself.Upon inspecting his wares,he was delighted to find a few packets of seeds,Potatoes,Carrots,and something called Buffalo Gourd,which he had never heard of.He traded his sawn-off for that and a small sack of some sticky that the caravaneer called "Vegas Baby".Satisfied with the trade,he walked off to the garden behind the security office.Using a long piece of pre-war iron rebar,he tilled the ground as best he could.He planted the seeds with extreme care,hoping that he had planted the Buffalo Gourd correctly.

"[censored],water.Let's go see if big boss can spare some."

Drifter walked around to the door of the office,knocked twice,and let himself in.Joe wasn't here,but there was a sink and also a bucket in the corner.

"Might as well help myself."

Drifter grabbed the bucket and held it in the sink at an angle to catch the flow of the water.As he bent over,he dropped a packet of seeds.Turning off the water and putting down the bucket,he bent down on the floor to search for the seeds.

"No way in hell am i losing those...wait,whats this?"

There was a small vial in the corner of the room,under the sink.

Drifter reached out to grab it,and inspected the label.

Serum x1614LGO-Accelerated Growth

"So this is where those giant ants came from...hmm...I wonder..."

Drifter stuck the vial in his pocket,filled up the bucket and rushed outside.Generously watering his soon-to-be germinating seeds,he smiled at the sprouts of corn already shooting up.

Taking the vial from his pocket,he put a few drops over each crop area.

"Here goes nothing...let's hope this wasn't another one of my foolish mistakes."

Hoping for the best,he strode to the diner to have a bite to eat.

"They better offer me something...I'm not doing this for my damn self."

Jimmy Leggio

"You know Mr Johnson, I don't believe I've had the pleasure either. What is your name friend?" Joe asked uzi.

"Nick Parker. I'm the leader of our band of assassins," the man announced. What a dolt, Jimmy thought to himself, suppressing a laugh. Is he trying to impress these people, or scare them? My slavers would destroy your assassins. Rennie and Parker resumed negotiations over the supply of men to guard the town.

After an agreement had been reached, Rennie paying one thousand caps for a squad of five people, Joe turned his attention back to Jimmy.

"Would you mind arranging that with your helpers too please Mr Johnson? I'll need you both to arrange some men to help Jesse Cristophe. He's the regulator fellow I hired last night. He's setting up some defenses for the town," he asked.

"No problem, Joe. I'd be happy to help the community," Jimmy replied. Joe looked back to Parker and asked him a question, something about helping the regulator with defences.

"As for your question about the surrounding area. I'm afraid that I only arrived yesterday myself. I believe that Harold actually scouted the area for Mr Moriarty. If you direct your questions to him then I'm sure that he'll be of much more use to you," Joe said, answering Jimmy's earlier question. Just as Jimmy was about to reply the very man marched into the diner.

"Speak of the devil himself," Jimmy said, letting out a warm laugh.
"Ah, Harold. Glad you could finally join us," Joe said to the beast, somewhat nervously. "Also, I apologise for moving your... Personal items from your room. But we had a guest last night. How would it have looked if Celeste found that beside your bed. I understand Harold. You have needs. But you can't leave that kind of thing lying around, understand?"

Ah, a chemhead. Can't say I'm at all surprised.

"Mr Johnson has a few questions about sightseeing for you," Joe finished, giving Harold a small pat on the shoulder. He then left the diner, with Parker quick in tow. Jimmy approached Harold.

"So, Harold. Nice to meet you, I'm Jimmy Johnson, I own a large variety of clothing stores. And I need your help, my good man," Jimmy announced before extending his arm.

CELESTE BROWN

Celeste re-emerged from the house with a bucket of fresh water. As she approached the corner, the trader was waving her over. She crossed the street and set the bucket down.

"Are you Celeste Brown?" the trader asked her.

"Yes," she smiled. "Can I help you?"

"Colin Moriarty sent something by for you but, uh, maybe there's somewhere I can put it for you?" the trader replied, slightly nervous.

Celeste frowned. "What do you mean?"

The trader had turned and was unstrapping something from his pack brahmin. When he finished he was holding two very large crates. "These are really heavy, and one says 'FRAGILE'. I'll just take them where you want them to go."

Celeste bobbed up and down excitedly. "Supplies!" she squealed. "Bring them inside the diner! Oh finally, I was going to have to start beating people off from eating each other. Please, follow me inside this way," she waved, picking up her water bucket and leading Dan into the diner. She walked behind the bar and looked around for the best place for the items to go. If the diner had a store room before, it sure wasn't obvious, or had disappeared. She sighed. "Just set them down there," she pointed, indicating the space on the floor between the defunct fridge and the grimy ruined stove.

Dan did as she asked, and brought the second crate inside as well. "There's a letter for you, too," he said, pulling a folded up piece of paper out of his jacket.

"Thanks." Celeste took the paper and unfolded it. "Can I get you anything?" she asked as a force of habit.

Dan shook his head and smiled. "I have something for Joe Rennie, too, if you could send him over. I'm not supposed to let anyone else pick up these packages."

"What?" Celeste asked. "Why?"

"Damned if I know. Moriarty paid me to deliver them personally, but didn't say why. I don't ask that guy any questions, he charges too much for information." He turned to return to his brahmin before Celeste could quiz him further.

She looked up to see Drifter sitting at the bar and giving her an annoyed look. "I'll be with you in just a sec!" she purred. Celeste turned her back to the rest of the diner for a moment while she read the letter.

My dearest Celeste,

I hope you have found Grayditch to be somewhere that you can be comfortable for a while, as you help build your old dad's retirement fund. I know it'll be hard for you, my little peach, and hard work to boot, but if I didn't think you could handle it, I wouldn't have sent you.

To help you get your little business going, I have sent you some provisions. Water, booze, and some food and basic medical supplies. I've also sent you some glasses and dishes so that you can run a true respectable establishment, as befits the Moriarty standard. This should help you hit the ground running until the caravans start coming through. If you need anything else, just send a note and I'll do everything I can to get you what you need as soon as I can. Dad's got his own show to run, don't forget -- but I will always make time for my little Canadian cupcake.

I hope you and Joe are getting along. If he gives you any trouble, don't hesitate to tell Harold. He can help you right away.

All my love,

Dad.

Celeste felt warm all over. She never thought her estranged father would accept her so well, after so many years, and the proof was in her hands...and at her feet. She turned back to Drifter, her energy renewed.

"Well, Drifter, you are the luckiest customer yet this morning. Everyone else had to pick from what I already had, but you have first pick of the new shipment. What do you fancy?"




FRIEDA

(I hope Surfer doesn't mind the minor character control...)

Frieda sat in her chair after her chat with Vict. He was keen on opening up a shop and set off to find them a suitable house to work out of. She sighed a satisfied sigh, and pulled the music box out of her pocket to place onto the table. She regarded it sullenly for a moment or two. Poor guy, genuinely thought he was doing something thoughtful, I think. Not sure what he or anyone else would think if they found out I used to be Enclave and can't remember who I really am.

Early on in her excursions through the Wasteland, Frieda learned that the Enclave were supposedly rooted out and destroyed, but their memory was not a sweet one in the minds of the wastelanders. She had shed the uniform for personal reasons -- fearing they were after her -- but had no real memory, or even feeling, that the organization had been evil. She knew they must have been the reason she had the electrical knowledge that she did, and her almost dogmatic obsession with fitness, but other than that, she knew nothing about them.

Frieda tried to push these thoughts out of her mind and took to opening up the bottom of the music box. It was no surprise that it didn't work: its wiring had disintegrated due to what she could only assume had been an alkaline battery slowly leaking its corrosive acid out all over. She got some of the sticky substance on her fingers and crunched up her nose at the feeling of it. She wiped it off on a rag she took out of the back pocket of her shorts.

She tried to wipe out the majority of the dead acid from the inside of the music box as best she could before stripping off the corrupted wires, tying on some fresh, and reconnecting the battery caps. She plucked a tiny energy cell from her collection of stuff on the table and fastened it inside. Lastly, Frieda flicked the switch on the back to make sure it worked before closing it back up.

The little ballerina crackled and jerked into motion, starting to spin slowly around to some little tune that tinkled from the music maker within.

"Hey," called Pawnee from next to her, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin, "you got it working!"

Frieda took a deep breath to calm her quickly beating heart. "I didn't know you were standing here," she breathed, shivering. She clicked off the switch before taking her smallest screwdriver and began to refasten the bottom panel back to the music box. "It was in really bad shape, but a new battery was really all it needed." She set it onto the table and turned it on again. "Where did you find it, anyways?" she asked, absently gathering her tools back together.

Nick Parker

"My fifth one will be coming in two days. We left him at 'The Fort' back in Megaton to guard it," Nick said as he walked along with Joe and Mr. Johnson to where the Regulator was. He sighed as Katie hurriedly followed him. Nick looked around the charred and destroyed remains of Greyditch. His mind flashed back to the faithful day at Springvale Elementary.

"[censored]! Go, cover left flank!" One of the assassins yelled as raiders, almost 100 of them started to pour through the hallway. A ton of bullets started to fly about as the entire elementary school turned into a battleground riddled with bullets and blown with explosives. Three of the 5 assassins were dead already. Even the elites couldn't handle the mass of raiders.

Nick fired another barrage of shots at the entrenched raiders who seemed to laugh at every shot fired. Some died, the rest kept coming like a horde. More kept coming. Nick could feel a massive slug rip through his flesh and bone. He winced in pain and fell down near a wall. He lost consciousness, drifting away from the horrors of the battle...

"Nick, Nick!" Katie yelled, shaking him. Nick shook his head and came out of the gruesome trance, his eyes nothing but two blank orbs. Only the first day in Greyditch and the memories kept coming back.

"Sorry...I'm okay..." He mumbled and kept going. Katie looked at him with uncertain and worried eyes. "Okay...if you say so."

Nick sighed and fell into step with Joe. "What does security detail entail?" He asked, trying to get his mind off of the ruined environment.

Duncan Talson

"Hmm? Oh, well...I've never used a tent before! I'm not sure what would be defined as a 'prime location.'' Duncan was a bit surprised, but didn't take much note of the comment looks like i've got prme pick of 'real estate' he thought to himself she smiled at him and continued "Did you ever make it up around Ronto? That's where I'm from, born and raised." Duncan noticed her train of thought changed quickly as she completely chnaged the topic "It'll be great to have a farmer, everyone just this morning was asking to eat and all I've got are some boxed snack cakes and a box of cereal."Before he could reply a large and brutish looking man entered and caught Celeste's attention, at that moment a man he hadn't noticed before sitting behind him started a conversation with the brute, he tried to keep up but was uninterested, it'd been 2 days since he had last tasted whiskey and he was hurting for a drink...bad. The only thing he managed to catch from the conversation was a name and discerned that Harold was the Brute. When the men had finished Duncan was about to speak up but Celeste beat him to it and quickly told him. "Duncan, welcome to Grayditch! I hope you don't mind, I am very busy here, as you can see I have a lot of cleaning to finish up. Take your time walking through town, or just sit and take a load off. There's a caravaner just down the street if you need anything."

He watched as the lass left with another man in tow and sat contemplating, "looks like there's gonna be a lot of work before old Jane can take a rest" he looked outside to his Brahmin and smiled "hopefully that trader out there has a couple of materials I can fashion into a plough." He sat in the diner awhile longer taking in his surroundings, he saw the marks of a scuffle not to long ago, the houses that were being turned into residences and even what seemed to be a field. He sighed to himself “shame, the poor crop won’t yield a thing unless it can be irrigated properly” he got up from his chair and made his way to the door, he was about to leave when a man in about his 50’s entered not paying much heed to Duncan’s existence, he decided to leave the man alone as he seemed to be deep in thought and didn’t want to disturb him. He made his way over to Jane and unhitched her “well old girl welcome to your new home, unfortunately no retirement yet.” He gave the old beast a nudge and led her towards the trader.

“You old boy, what can I do for you?” the trader pointed a grubby finger at Duncan then indicated the Brahmin skin sheet his wares were laid on. He looked them over, barely anything would help him make a plough then he spied three sturdy beams of wood perfect “I’ll take the beams friend how much do I owe ya?” after about ten minutes of haggling Duncan walked away with 30 less caps and all his plates and cutlery gone, he smiled to himself knowing he had ripped the merchant off.

Grayditch had barely anywhere suitable for a tent site so Duncan made do with the old park at the end of the street. He hitched Jane to the old swing set and unravelled his Brahmin skin tent “cool in summer, warm in winter” he said to the day, he unfolded the material and then inspected it for faults. When he was satisfied he pulled the stopper out of a bottle of whiskey, took a swig, then got to work.

James Wilson


Sitting on the dinner counter, James saw Harold walk in to the dinner and speak to Joe, looking at his eyes James could tell he had been taking drugs

"I apologise for moving your... Personal items from your room. But we had a guest last night. How would it have looked if Celeste found that beside your bed. I understand Harold. You have needs. But you can't leave that kind of thing lying around, understand?"

I knew it , Harold is a junke , no wonder Joe doesn’t trust him

Looking back outside james could see duncan carrying three sturdy beams of wood to the park and that Celeste was talking tothe trader , who then brought in two large crates, placing them next to the fridge with FRAGILE wirtten on one of them.
Overhearing that Moriarty had sent then…

Moriarty must really like Celeste.

James had traded with Moriarty in the past , mostly likey selling him the armour & shotgun harold was now using. Unlike some buyers, Moriarty always paid upfront but aways charged more for information, he was a crafty Irishman but a good man , even if he used the wrong methods


“Well, Drifter, you are the luckiest customer yet this morning. Everyone else had to pick from what I already had, but you have first pick of the new shipment. What do you fancy?"

--Pawnee--

As Pawnee continued down the street he saw Frieda sitting at jury-rigged welding station. She was tinkering with his music box, inserting what looked like a new energy cell into its base. She snapped it shut and then turned the box over, opening its top.

The box played a very somber tune.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ubqIyAE0eeA&playnext=1&list=PL4BDC0B041664517B

Frieda closed the box just as Pawnee came up behind her.

“Hey,” Pawnee smiled, “you got it working.”

"It was in really bad shape, but a new battery was really all it needed," Frieda set it on the table and turned it on again. "Where did you find it, anyways?"

The sad melody hung in the dry air for a moment. Its chimes pulled on something deep inside of Pawnee.

Bittercup would have loved this. . .she always liked useless trinkets and pretty things.

“I found it in one of the houses nearby, at the bottom of a dresser,” Pawnee snapped the box shut, “you sure fixed it up fast. . .must have learned your skills from someone special. Do you like it? I mean. . . do you like senta. . .sen-tim-ental things? My old girl would have fallen in love with this. Really her style.”

Pawnee picked up the box and tried to smile at Frieda, but his lips quivered. The tune continued to echo in his head, eating away at his good mood.

OOC: The tune will bore itself into your mind, but the movie is terrible.

FRIEDA

“I found it in one of the houses nearby, at the bottom of a dresser,” Pawnee snapped the box shut, “you sure fixed it up fast. . .must have learned your skills from someone special. Do you like it? I mean. . . do you like senta. . .sen-tim-ental things? My old girl would have fallen in love with this. Really her style.”

Pawnee picked up the box and tried to smile at Frieda, but his lips quivered.

"Sentimental," Frieda repeated softly. Pawnee was clearly, suddenly upset about something, leaving her to feel a little awkward. He came across as trying too hard, but she liked him all the same. "Look, don't worry about the repair, it's on the house." She gave him a small smile, unsure how to proceed.

"You look sad," she began. "Do you want to talk about it?" Frieda watched as the trader followed Celeste back into the diner, carrying a crate. "How about I buy you a drink? I owe you one."

Will edit into a reply for Zerker and Elvis, once the painkillers kick in.