Cole Anders
Capital Wasteland - Mid-Day

"Fuc*... She had better not... Have lied to me" Cole mumbled as he trudged through the wasteland, hoping that each passing hill would be his last. Exhaustion had overtaken his body, each step being slower then the last. He licked his lips at an attempt to quell his parched mouth, his stomach relentlessly growled at him, and his calves burned with the greatest pain he had ever experienced in his life. Cole was truly a sight to see. The fact that he could still move showed his determination to live. "The same could be said about you.." Is all the went through Cole's mind as he walked. Was it true? Was Cole as horrid as Mr. Burke made him out to be?

As these thoughts circulated through his head, a single dot on the horizon snapped him back into focus. He picked up pace as best he could, all the while his legs threatened to collapse. "Almost there..." He thought to himself, "Just a.. Little more"

As Cole grew closer and closer, the more he realized that he wasn't nearing Greyditch. The dot had turned into a small metal bulge, outlining the shape of a small settlement. "Megaton.."

________________

Buzzards circleed overhead as Cole approached the gate, and the stench of rotting meat filled his nostrils. He was greeted by a small Securitron dressed as a cowboy, and proceeded inside, the metal doors slamming shut as he entered. He walked down the hill to the center of town, where a nuclear bomb lay before him. He had visited the town before and knew of the religious group that praised the nuke as a god. What he hadn't encountered before, however, was a rowdy sheriff with a assault-rifle slung over his shoulder. Cole took a seat at the Brass Latern, throwing caps on the table and gulping down any drinks within reach, attempting to avoid the mans gaze. He took a seat next to him, however, and welcomed him with a sincere smile across his face, "Well howdy there, partner. Welcome to Megaton," He said in a somewhat cheery voice. "Names Lucas Simms, Town Sheriff," Cole, taking in the mans attitude, did his best to act civil under his current exhaustion, "Its a pleasure, Mr. Simms." He responded, shaking the mans hand.

"Friendly, I like that. Tell me, What are you doing in Megaton?" Simms asked, eying the young man. "Actually, I was responding to a note," Cole said, pulling the note from his pocket, "Was hoping to have a little "talk" with Moriarty about Greyditch," The Sheriff shook his head and read over the note. "Its a good thing I caught you, boy. Going to that town unprepared would get a young man such as yourself killed," He said, a serious look overcoming his face. "Its infested with criminals.. Criminals with some fuc*ed up personalities, mind you," He continued. "Its a hellhole. A dead-end. Moriarty makes it out to be some oasis where you can do something with your life, but truth be told, he doesn't give a damn,"

"With all due respect, Sheriff, I can handle myself," Cole responded, though the information he was sharing seemed valuable enough for his time. "Hah.. You say that now. Don't get me wrong, there are some decent folk living there.. But Moriarty uses them for his own needs.." The sheriff seemed determined to change Cole's mind about Greyditch. "I could at least talk with Moriarty.. Couldn't hurt," Cole thought, his mind racing with ideas of what went on within the town. "Thank you, Sheriff, but I need some time to rest.. Excuse me," Cole said, dismissing himself from the table. The sheriff simply sat there and shook his head, note still in hand. "What that place needs is a police force.." Cole overheard him mumble as he walked away. "Or their very own private-eye.." Cole thought, an idea forming in his head.

Bob Dobbs

Road to Grayditch – Mid Afternoon

"Fine! I'll just puke all over you then.”, Brandy growled. “I still can't believe you wasted that Jet.”

“I did you a favor”, replied Bob. “You may not agree now, but one day you’re going to thank me for this.”

“I want to walk”, Brandy whined. “Put me down, I can walk myself."

"Nope", replied Bob as he picked up his pace, only slowing or stopping to look around and make sure they weren't being stalked.

If I don't see a threat before it sees us, we're screwed.

Realizing talking wasn’t going to work, Brandy changed tactics, trying to push the sling of his CAR off his shoulder so the rifle would drop. Bob simply pushed it back up, almost hitting Brandy.

"You almost hit me!”, Brandy protested. "Put me down, I'm warning you."

"Nice try sweet pea”, Bob said cooly. “But I don't think so, we are almost there”.

Only a few hundred yards away now, thank God.

Not succeeding with the rifle, Brandy began grabbing items from his pistol belt and bandoleer and dropping them. Sighing in frustration, Bob knelt down to pick up the dropped revolver speedloaders and CAR magazines, while keeping Brandy balanced on his shoulder. Moving on again, he walked over the crest of a hill and saw Zardoz’s caravan and what looked to be most of the townspeople by the grave that he and JT had dug yesterday.

Looks like JT kept things on track. I’ll have to apologize later. When I tell him about the dogs, I think he’ll understand. Maybe this will get Brandy to start acting like an advlt again.

"There's the funeral" he said, Brandy looked, "Do you really want to be scene acting like this? Will you try to take off if I let you walk the rest of the way?"

"No" she pouted as she saw some of the townspeople had noticed her acting out. "I won't run.".

Bob carefully sat her down, then taking her by the hand he led her towards the service. The two of them were a sight, Bob was dirty and had some scratches from wrestling with the wild dog, and his coat was had been stained in spots by the dog’s blood. Brandy didn’t look much better, her hair frizzy from not drying or brushing it, her clothes filthy, her eyes red and bloodshot. Her voice was dry and hoarse from yelling and screaming. As they approached the funeral, he could see Brandy’s robot addressing the mourners, playing back what appeared to be recordings of Brandy. It then finished with a short speech then stepped aside and as Brandy made her way to the graveside, James began to speak.

“[censored], he was a good friend and overall nice guy, he was never rude and always managed to look on the brighter side of life.", James said wistfully. “I remember this one time I saw him riding Jane in tow…”. One of the townspeople, who Bob hadn’t met yet, suddenly fell to the ground and began thrashing. "What the [censored]s wrong with him?", James blurted out.

James’s friend Jessica quickly took charge and tended to the stranger. Not noticing the disturbance caused by the stranger’s seizure, Brandy sank to her knees in front of Duncan’s grave, resting her elbows on them, and then taking her face in her hands began crying hysterically.

"Oh Duncan, I promise I will build your brahmin pen, I promise.”, Brandy cried. “Thank you for being there when I needed somebody, when I knew nobody else. I wish it were me instead of you, you didn't deserve this Duncan.".

Bob picked her up in his arms and tried to comfort her. This time Brandy did not resist being picked up, instead she threw her arms around Bob’s neck and held onto him tightly, but kept crying uncontrollably in spite of his best efforts.

"It's OK sweetie, he's in a better place, come on I will help you.”, came a calm voice. “ Do you need to talk?”.

Both Bob and Brandy looked up to see a short, dirty, brown haired woman had approached them. Bob had seen her in the crowd as Brandy and him approached. He didn’t remember having seen her around town before, but he was sure he had seen her before somewhere…he just couldn’t remember where. The tank-top T-shirt she was wearing revealed her arms and shoulders were heavily scarred. There was a hard set to her face, but her eyes did show some warmth….her demeanor towards Brandy indicated genuine concern. At her waist was a .44 Magnum and a knife. Bob got the impression she knew quite well how to use both of them.

"I...I'm falling apart, I can't handle all of this." Brandy replied as she sniffed and rubbed her nose, " Duncan, Pawnee, my [censored] brother, and now Frieda too, I can't take it anymore."

The woman rubbed Brandy's head as she leaned in and whispered, "I'm a good listener, come on lets go somewhere and talk."

"That's all everyone has said today, is they just want to talk, I can't talk anymore, I don't want to. I...it just seems to cause me nothing but trouble." Brandy painfully replied, "I just want to go somewhere, anywhere but here."

"Running away wont solve anything sweetie, if you don't walk to talk, that's okay. But can I go with you and sit with you?" the woman asked sorrowfully, "Oh, I'm sorry, my name is Atarah."

"Atarah? That's a nice name." Brandy buried her head in Bob's chest, "Okay, okay, ya...you can come with me. But don't be surprised if everything falls apart around you."

“Hello, Atarah,”, Bob said, “I’m Bob…Bob Dobbs. This is Brandy. She lives in town, so it’s not far to go. ”

"Great, I'll follow you two" Atarah spoke softly stroking Brandy's hair.

With Atarah in tow, they walked back into town. Stopping at Duncan’s tent, Bob asked Atarah to retrieve Brandy’s assault rifle from inside. Then they went to Brandy’s house and all three went inside. Bob set Brandy gently down on the couch, then went to the kitchen to see what she had to drink as Atarah put down Brandy’s rifle and sat with her. Coming back with three bottles of purified water, Bob gave Brandy and Atarah one then sat down on the couch, so Brandy was between Atarah and Bob.

“Are you hungry?”, Bob asked them. “If you like, we could go to the Diner and get dinner. We probably ought to change first, though…my coat is filthy from rolling around the ground with that dog.”

Brandy - Home - mid afternoon


Bob carried Brandy back home, stopping and having Atarah fetch her rifle from Duncan's tent. Once inside, Bob got her situated on the couch, Atarah sat beside her. Bob disappeared into the kitchen, returning with three bottles of water, handing each of the women one before taking a seat on the other side of Brandy. Taking a drink, the cold, refreshing water felt exhilarating on her scratchy throat. Brandy brought her legs up on the couch, pulling them into her chest resting her chin on her knees. She stared blankly at the floor, unsure what to say, or what to do.

“Are you hungry?”, Bob asked them. “If you like, we could go to the Diner and get dinner. We probably ought to change first, though…my coat is filthy from rolling around the ground with that dog.”

Brandy continued to stare at the floor, wondering what the place was like before the war. What type of people once occupied her house, did they have a dog? Children? Was it even a couple that lived here so long ago? If so, were they happy? What was pre-war life like?

"Brandy, honey, are you hungry?" Atarah asked, resting her hand on Brandy's.

Brandy silently shook her head side to side, closing her eyes.

*****************************************

She got excited seeing the towns people inside dancing, she hurried, stumbling on some gravel dropping her pistol. As she picked it up, BANG, quickly looking to see if anyone had noticed, kicking it to the side.


"Well hello there Miss" Duncan said in a friendly manner, "The names Duncan, and who might you be?"

"Th-th-th-th-there's...outs-s-s-s-s-s-side," Celeste stammered, "There's a dead body behind the diner!! The rude man from before, he's...he's dead!"

“Huh?” Pawnee scratched his head, “no you didn’t. He killed himself. At least it looked like he did. I found him lying next to a blood-spattered pistol. I took it - looked like good scavenge.”

"guess she couldn't help but get a little jealous over a girl as pretty as you. You're a desert rose, that's for sure," Pawnee said with a smile.

"You should ask him to show you the stars. Maybe he'll even tell you about his dead girlfriend." Fried said

*****************************************

Brandy's opened her eyes, slowly stood up, walked by her mattress that lay on the floor and upstairs. All without saying a word, she sat and sobbed on her pile of clothes, feeling something hard, the ten millimeter pistol James had given her. She pulled it out and stared, her mind racing with memories. Remembering the note she found, the note that summed it all up, the note her brother Ricky left her.
*****************************************

Brandy,
Hope all went well in Grayditch, as you can see we left. Where we are heading we will need to move rather quickly, as it going to test the boys and I. We don't have time for you to stop and observe every little thing that you see, like you've done since we left home. We needed somewhere to leave you, and Kevin found this letter about Grayditch. They are re-establishing the town, and you can help them. You worked with papa for years building things, and it looks like they could use someone like you, because we don't to be honest. It's time you start to be on your own! I left your shining equipment, in your suitcase are 200 caps and half barrel of shine for you to sell. Or drink since you've taken that up lately, but you should be able to find a place to stay between them. Whatever you do, you hadn't better sit there banging rocks together, waiting for us to come back.
Best of luck
Ricky
*****************************************

She raised the pistol, clicking the hammer back. The sound echoed rather loudly, not even getting the gun to her head, Bob rushed through the door.



Calypso - wasteland - evening


"How do you intend to get an innocent man to confess? Joe asked Amelia.

Calypso put her hands on her hips raising her eyebrow waiting. The sun had almost melted into the western horizon, her patience wearing thin, anxious to see what Grayditch had to offer. Calypso was also anxious to get the confession, the thought of being paid to torture someone for a mere confession, innocent or not had her foaming at the mouth.

Taking a deep, frustrated sigh, "Well, if you two wish to stand around, so be it, Harold and I will choose our prizes." Calypso motioned her arms, "just take all the time you need, its not like we have people to kill in a timely fashion or anything."

She checked the caravan guard she had killed, "Garbage, garbage, garbage" she spat, tossing the guards sniper rifle, sub machine gun and full clips to the ground, "you people and your unhonorable weapons, ahh, a combat knife, I do believe I will add it to my collection."

Calypso started rummaging through bags on the pack brahmin while as Harold approached. She pulled out a Chinese officers sword, a little beat up, but not bad. She walked over to Harold, holding the sword on her hands.

"Harold darling, I do hope that you will take this, as I would be ecstatic to teach you how to use it properly." She gave a genuine smile and slightly nodded, "I have but taught only one person the art of swordsmanship. The euphoric sensation from taking ones life with flesh and steel is...indescribable my love. I wish for you to experience that feeling firsthand."

Harold took hold of the swords grip, holding it up, examining it. Calypso moved in closer, closing her hands on the blade, staring into the hulks eyes as she ran her tongue up the blades edge.

"Treasure the almighty blade, the true weapon of death, embrace it Harold, become one with it." Calypso twisted around, putting her back against Harold's chest, placing the blade across her throat, "can't you imagine my dear, the ecstasy of flesh and bone being severed from the body."

Calypso slid her hand down Harold's stomach to his groin and spun back around, "Would that not arouse you my darling?" Pulling the combat knife she just scavenged, flipping and spinning it in her hand, the blade rested in the palm of her hand. Nodding at the dead guard, she threw the knife, it made a sickening sound as the blade cracked through flesh and bone, sticking out of the guards lifeless head. She flashed eyes at Harold and walked back to the pack brahmin.

"Three hundred and ninety two caps, chump change." Calypso scoffed, "everything else is garbage."

The cannibal then strode back up to Joe and Amelia, bending her knees and clapping like an excited school girl, "Are we ready yet children, or are we going to watch these guards rot?"

Grayditch was now in view, as another caravan approached in the murky early evening light. Calypso paused momentarily, cocking her head to the side, she could see Joe tense up. The purple covered wagon lumbered along the uneven terrain, making their way westward. Calypso walked into the path of the oncoming, unique, wagon and guards.

James Wilson – Duncan’s funeral - Sunset (after the Funeral)

The Funeral had ended, Danon had stopped thrashing around but was still unconscious and Zardoz was saying goodbye to everyone before setting off, towards Megaton.

“ We can’t leave him and we can’t wait he for him to wake up. “ Jessica said to James & Sue

“I’ll take him to diner, Sue give me hand” James said as he, with Sue helped picked Up Danon and carried him to the dinner….

---- Celeste Tap's Dinner -----

Arriving back in Town, James & Sue put Danon down in an empty booth in Celeste dinner, when he noticed the bartender was some Bald chick…

When did a point looky tribal get a job at Celeste diner? I wonder if I switched all the drinks around she wouldn’t notice…. Switching, that gives me an idea

As Jessica and Sue sat down on the other side of booth, James walked up to counter and spoke to bald chick “ Hello I’m James, when did you start working here?”

“About 20 minutes ago when Celeste left to go back to megaton, the Names Tap” Tap coldly replied

Wow not very friendly but why did Celeste go back to megaton?

“Could I have four Nuka Cola’s please” James said, placing a small bag of caps on table “ Sure” Tap replied getting four nuka’s out of fridge and given them to James.

Putting three Nuka cola’s on the table James spoke to Jessica & Sue “ I’m going to check up on Brandy will you be okay him?”

Yeah he should be fine, maybe a little shocked though” Jessica replied as she opened her Nuka cola…

Walking out of Dinner and towards Brandy’s; James open one of Nuka colas and poured the black liquid down a per-war drain and filled the empty Nuka cola bottle with the Jet Antidote and sealed the bottle up...

[i]Hehe she will never know… and Bob won’t ask any stupid questions [/i

]James walked inside Brandy house and said “ hello I brought Brandy a drink.” Only to hear a loud chick, followed by door being slammed open, what sounded like someone falling over and Atarah running up the stairs; followed soon after by James....

Atarah - Brandy's house - late afternoon

Once Brandy, Bob, and Atarah were in town, walking by the park, Bob asked her if she would get Brandy's assault rifle from Duncan's tent.

"Sure, no problem" Atarah replied, popping into the tent fetching the rifle. They walked down the street arriving at Brandy's house. Atarah opened the door for Bob and Brandy, Bob took Brandy and sat her on the couch. Atarah followed, sitting next to Brandy.

“Are you hungry?”, Bob asked them. “If you like, we could go to the Diner and get dinner. We probably ought to change first, though…my coat is filthy from rolling around the ground with that dog.”

Atarah nodded in agreement with Bob, but Brandy remained silent, not answering in any way.

"Brandy, honey, are you hungry?" Atarah asked, resting her hand on Brandy's. Brandy silently shook her head no, just sitting in silence.

Leaning down in front of Brandy, looking her in the face, "Are you ok Brandy? I won't bother you if you don't want to talk, but I would like to just sit here."

Brandy sat for a little bit longer, then without saying a word, she got up and walked upstairs.

"Bob, that poor girl, something is eating her alive. Do you know if she knows Jesus?" Atarah spoke quietly.

After a few moments of awkward silence, the air in the house filled with the echo of a click. Atarah's eyes went wide, she jumped up, but Bob was halfway up the stairs. He went through the bedroom door, Atarah was right on his heels.

David O'Riley -- Road to Grayditch -- Late Afternoon

His boots kicked up small dust storms as he marched along the road, the sun was starting to descend but was directly facing him hindering his sight, the sweat on his back made the clothing cling to his body. But he had done this a thousand times before, he was used to it. His life had resolved around the constant travelling and survival, he really hadn't much to complain about from today. He had a good hunt, quick, clean kills. Largely Mirelurk meat. Since Project Purity, the Mirelurks had been dying out. Evidently the clean water was killing them off, it made locating them more difficult as they long abandoned much of the area around D.C. but they formed around areas where the water remained contaminated, but a good hunter knows where his prey is.

He hefted the duffle bag of food that was slung across his shoulder, relaxed himself as Grayditch came into sight. I think I've earned a decent pay this evening. He contemplated staying around a bit longer, he usually did work for a bunch of folk then move on. But a new community, a new settlement could make use of a good hunter.

With each foot step that bought him closer to Grayditch, the gathering of people grew.

He arrived in the middle of a funeral. His stride became gentle as he silently approached the crowd from behind, whoever was in the casket the people obviously cared for them as the majority of people were in mourning. David suddenly felt that feeling of being out of place again, the same feeling he had when he first arrived.

"I didn't know Duncan, but I was there when he passed on. Even as he was facing death he managed to chuckle a couple of times ---" He recalled the feller, the man with the guitar. And this Duncan must have been the corpse in the diner.
Even though everyone's focus was on funeral he felt that he was being stared at, as if he should be in grieving, David didn't even know the, he doesn't know anybody here. That outsider feeling creeping in at the back of his mind. This was intrusive of him as he decided to head back to the diner to collect his pay, nobody noticed him arrive, nor did they see him leave.

David slung his rifle back around his shoulder, reliving the duffle bag of its position as he closed in on the Diner. The place was empty, the sunset casted a surreal look to the place as he stood alone in the middle of the Diner. Quiet and beautiful, the nostalgia of home flooded him before the sensation was smashed by an intrusive voice; "Yeah?"

A woman, not Celeste, stood behind the counter with a exasperated look across her face.

"Can I speak to miss Celeste please, I have her... delivery."

The woman eyed David up and down, casting a suspicious look over him. "What sort of delivery?"

"Food," He answered placing the bag onto the counter, "Mirelurk meat. Miss Celeste employed me to hunt on behalf of the Diner."

The woman svcked her teeth and opened the bag. Taking out the meat to inspect it, she weighed it in her and before nodding in approvement. "She mentioned you in a note; Celeste has gone to Megaton to recuperate so I'm in charge and I've brought my own supplies, enough to keep the place running. You'll be reimbursed but you won't receive any shares of the caps earned from the food you've caught."

She threw him a bag of caps with a hefty weight behind it. "Consider some of that a bonus since I won't be needing your services for a while." She snatched the bag and carried it away to the store room leaving David alone. He gripped the bag of caps tightly trying to make a estimate of how much there were, but he was also out of the job. "S**t." He pocketing the bag of caps, and left the Diner. He had several options now, remain here and look for another permanent role of employment, go to Rivet City and become a couch potato around his parents, or carry on seeking out other jobs elsewhere.

Bob Dobbs

Brandy’s House – Late Afternoon


"Brandy, honey, are you hungry?" Atarah asked Brandy, as she rested her hand on Brandy's.

Brandy silently shook her head side to side, closing her eyes. The three of them sat quietly for a minute. Bob reached to move some small boxes aside so he could prop his feet up on the coffee table. As he began to push them out of the way, he saw that they were cardboard boxes, and looked like the sort of boxes Pre-War medication often had been shipped in. One was blue, the other was white. Curious, Bob picked up the blue box to examine it. Bob felt movement next to him, and looked up to see that Brandy had gotten up and was slowly walking up the stairs.

Probably has to go to the bathroom.

Bob turned his attention back to the blue box in his hand. It was, as he thought, the outer box that a pill bottle was put on the shelf in before the War. Giving it a quick shake revealed there was a bottle with pills inside. This medication was labeled “Bupropiafil?”, the instructions on the box said it’s purpose was treating methamphetamine addiction, and provided dosage information, as well as a list of side-effects that sounded like what James had said his Jet antidote did while it did it’s work. The box also recommended it be taken with a non-opiate pain medication to alleviate the side-effects.

James seems to be right…there is a cure for Jet addiction. Frieda must have talked to Ryler about Brandy and gotten this from him. She agreed with me after all…Frieda just didn’t like the messenger.

From upstairs, Bob could hear Brandy sobbing. Bo removed the CAR magazines from his coat pocket and placed them on the table. He then put the blue box in his coat pocket and reached for the white box.

Poor kid. This is going to be difficult for her, on top of everything else but we have to get her off Jet before it ruins her life.

The white box was Ibuprofen, prescription strength. By the box, it was double the normal dosage, 1 800mg pill every 6-8 hours. Bob put the white box in his pocket as well.

I’m going to talk to her about this. If Ryler prescribed these meds, I’m going to insist she take them.

"Bob, that poor girl, something is eating her alive.”, Atarah said quietly. “Do you know if she knows Jesus?".

“I honestly don’t know”, replied Bob. “I’m new to town so I don’t know her as well as I’d like. But you’re right, she is in a lot of pain inside, and what's worse she is turning to all the wrong places to try to cope with it.”

Bob was going to continue, but he was suddenly getting a bad feeling. He stopped speaking and instead sat and listened, heedless to the awkward silence he was creating.

Something is very wrong.

Bob then noticed that Brandy had stopped sobbing. In fact, he heard nothing at all coming from upstairs.

I don’t like this. I’m going to check up on her.

“Don’t mean to be rude, Atarah”, said Bob as he got up and headed for the stairs. “I’m going to see how Brandy’s doing right quick.”

When he got to the foot of the stairs, he heard it. The unmistakable sound of a semi-auto pistol’s slide being drawn back and released.

Brandy, NO!!!!!

Bob immediately sprinted up the stairs two at a time and burst through the door to her bedroom. Behind him he could hear footsteps coming up, probably Atarah, but he paid it no attention. Brandy was sitting on a pile of clothes next to the mattress she slept on, holding a 10mm auto in her hand and looking at him with tears streaming down her face. She appeared to have been engaged with placing the pistol to her head when his sudden entrance distracted her.

“What are you doing, Brandy!”, Bob cried as he rushed across the room and grabbed the pistol before she could turn it on herself. “Give me that at once, young lady!” With one hand he engaged the safety before she could pull the trigger, then gently but firmly pried the pistol out of her grasp. Relieved he had gotten to her in time, he embraced Brandy and held her close to him.

“You’ve got your whole life before you”, said Bob, “How could you do this? You’re not alone, you’ve got friends who care about you. And how can you build Duncan’s brahmin pen if you’re dead?”

Brandy began sobbing again. Bob held her, and comforted her as she cried. Atarah had been right behind him, she looked vastly relieved that Brandy had been disarmed. Bob handed Atarah the 10mm, she stuck it under her belt in the small of her back.

“The Jet has made you sick, Sweet Pea”, Bob continued. “And I’m going to take care of you so you can get better. I want you to promise me something, Sweet Pea. Promise me you’ll never try to take your own life again. I couldn’t bear having to bury you, and Frieda would be devastated.”

Bob sat next to Brandy and held her as she cried. Atarah knelt next to her and tried to comfort her as well. After a while Brandy calmed down somewhat and Bob spoke to her again.

“Sweet Pea,” said Bob as he pulled the blue and white boxes out of his coat pocket and showed them to her. “Did Ryler come here earlier and give you these? If he did, what did he tell you about them? If they are for the Jet, I want you to start taking them right away. We’ll make sure you get the pills on time and don’t have to worry about any accidents.”

Bob noticed that James was also here, he was standing at the door holding a Nuka-cola.

“Hello, James”, said Bob. “Glad you’re here. Brandy is going to need all of our help before this is over.”

ooc: short post but it leads to a big one!

James Wilson – Randy dandy Bandy’s house - Late afternoon/sunset.

“Sweet Pea,” said Bob as he pulled the blue and white boxes out of his coat pocket and showed them to her. “Did Ryler come here earlier and give you these? If he did, what did he tell you about them? If they are for the Jet, I want you to start taking them right away. We’ll make sure you get the pills on time and don’t have to worry about any accidents.”

What [censored] Pills?

James watched Bob speaking to Brandy before he noticed James and said “Hello, James”, said Bob. “Glad you’re here. Brandy is going to need all of our help before this is over.”

oh down worry I have plan to end this in 5 minutes hehehe

James walked over to Brandy a sat next to Brandy ” how are feeling Brandy, I just brought you a nuka cola, here have some “ James said as he took of cap and passed Brandy the “Nuka” cola….

Come on drink it…

Just then James noticed the 10mm pistol he had given to Brandy was on atarah Belt, Grabbing it, James took out the clip
" Just as I though there wasn't any bullets in it...." James said...

FRIEDA ~~ wasteland outside Grayditch ~~ Sundown

She'd run back towards the Super Duper Mart then turned east. Instead of crossing the bridge, she began to follow the skeleton of the Potomac south, her mind racing.

Stupid stupid stupid stupid. I've been stupid about everything. Everything! Pawnee, Brandy, hell, even just thinking I could settle down somewhere...

Frieda ran past the ruined office buildings and a smelly outhouse. She realized she was approaching a gathering of tables and chairs -- an outdoor cafe. An older woman with a rifle on her back sat on one of the chairs, watching Frieda approach.

Frieda stopped and simply stared at the woman for a time, catching her breath.

The woman smiled. "Hi, there."

"Hello..."

"I think you lost 'im."

Frieda wiped sweat off her brow with the back of her hand. "What?"

"Whatever was chasin' ya, it's not behind ya." The woman kicked the chair across from her out from the table with her food. "Why don't you sit down?" She seemed to sense Frieda's hesitation. "The name's Sparkle. I've been running this crab shack for...oh, some time, now. Lost my boys a few years ago, though, God rest their souls. Have a seat. You look troubled."

That's one way to say it. Frieda stepped over to the table and perched on the very edge of the seat. She looked around and took in the sights a little bit more closely. There was smoke rising from the distance. The river, though, looked peaceful and poetic in the sunset. Frieda was surprised to see how high the water was. It glimmered in the receding light of day. "What is this place?"

"I told you, it's a crab shack. Me 'n' my boys were hunters, but some 'lurks got the best of 'em a few years ago. I should've packed up and moved on, then, but I've been here too long, and hell, can't say I don't mind being alone." Sparkle grinned and crossed her arms.

Frieda slid her backside on the chair until her back was against the backrest. "You don't get lonely?"

Sparkle shrugged. "I don't get along very well with most folks. I've become opinionated in my old age and a bit of a recluse." She motioned towards Frieda's plasma. "Haven't seen one of those in a long time."

"I like antiques," Frieda replied.

"It's more than that, though, isn't it?"

"What?" Frieda repeated.

"It's not just a weapon, is it? It's something more, right? Something personal." Sparkle wiped her nose with an index finger. "No one would walk around with a weapon bearing the Enclave logo unless it meant something. Not if she knew what was good for her."

Frieda tensed. "Maybe I should just leave..."

"No, don't worry about it. I just can't believe you're still brandishing that thing around so freely. You do know what they did to the Enclave around these parts, don't you?"

"Were you part of it?"

Sparkle laughed. "Girl, what part of 'I run a crab shack' didn't you understand the first two times I said it to you?"

Frieda blushed. "Sorry. I'm not usually so..."

"Spacey? You have an intelligent look to ya, but like I said, you also look troubled. It happens to the best of us, we're just human." Sparkle reached forward and pat Frieda's hand. "You remind me of myself, keeping things up in your head, running off just so you can be alone..."

Frieda nodded and looked back out to the river, lost in her own thoughts. She and Sparkle sat for a time, in a comfortable silence.

"Listen, if you intend to cross the river, don't go near the old Anchorage Memorial. There was a bit of a to-do there and there are sure to be unfriendlies on top of the usual Mirelurk crowd." Sparkle gave Frieda a knowing nod. "The 'lurks are always unfriendly."

"Sure, thanks." She watched as a Mirelurk slid gracefully through the water. Frieda sat quietly for a few more minutes, simply gazing out at the water and frowning. I should be more like this river. The Mirelurk makes ripples but the water doesn't change its course, or direction...I should just go with whatever comes my way, learn from the experience, and move on.

Frieda smirked at her sudden philosophical musings. What are you, some [censored] poet, now?

Besides...I doubt I'm the river. I'm more like that Mirelurk.

She sighed and stood up. I need to talk to Pawnee. "Thanks, Sparkle. I need to get back, but if you end up wanting a little more of a town, they've re-settled Grayditch. That's where I'm at, these days."

Sparkle shook her head. "I like my river, and I'm a bit of a fixture here, now. Maybe we'll meet again."

"Okay." Frieda gave her a short wave, turned, and began to run back the way she came. As she approached the bridge, a dark, though familiar figure across the way caught her eye. She stopped short and slipped on some loose rocks, causing the blonde to lose her balance and fall. "[censored]," she muttered, and shot her gaze back across the river.

Heading south was none other than Harlen Jake.

"What is he doing out here? Where is he going...?" she mumbled to herself. Frieda squinted at him and watched his back slowly disappear back in the direction from which she came, simply on the other side of the river. Finally, she stood up and tested her ankle. It didn't seem to be twisted.

She ran back to town. By the time Frieda arrived back in town, it was full dark, but only just. She glanced into the diner and saw a woman with a shaved head attending the bar.

Frieda knocked on Pawnee's front door frame. "Hey, Pawnee? It's Frieda...are you home?" She took a moment to freshen her ponytail and made her way to his stairs.

She walked into the middle of his open-sky loft bedroom and smiled. "Can I stay for a minute? I'm not trying to make things awkward..." Frieda sat onto the floor and fidgeted with the lace of one of her boots. "I'm sorry about this morning. I have a hard time expressing myself. I...I just wanted to..."

She shook her head, staring at the floor, then looked up and smiled. "I really care about you, but I want you to be happy, too. No matter what you decide, is okay with me. You have to live your own life. I'm just glad I got to spend some time with you."

Sappy, much?

She sighed. "I'm trying to make it easier on you. Not...not pressure you." Frieda rubbed her eyes.

J.T. Tayor - Duncan's funeral - late afternoon


Mirvin waddled up to the mound, "Hello folks," He rasped in his flat, synthetic voice, "If it is acceptable to those present, I will say a few words. Mr Frank always liked to have music accompany somber affairs such as this." As the robot said this a jaunty military tune issued from his speakers, before being abruptly switched off again. "I must apologize for that my good chums, that was completely inappropriate, please allow me to try that again."

J.T couldn't help but chuckle as the robot almost seemed embarrassed.

A new tune began to play, "I myself never met Mr Duncan, but Miss Brandy did. When she and Miss Frieda accompanied me back from the derelict supermarket, Miss Brandy talked at great length of many of the residents of Grayditch, Mr Duncan amongst them. As Miss Brandy is not present to speak for herself, I will share some of the things she said to me."

As Mirvin began playback of Brandy's voice, he could see Brandy and Bob a short ways away, they both looked to be in rough shape as they approached. Mirvin had finished, and even shook Zardoz's hand, J.T smiled again. Danon then walked up and peered down at the casket, while James took the podium and began to speak.

“ I didn’t know Duncan for along time but…” James began, J.T watched Danon's legs give out, he crashed to the ground convulsing, "what the [censored]s wrong with him?" James asked as J.T ran over to Danon.

"Quick he’s having a seizure. Sue, hold his left side and keep him from moving “ Jessica shouted, Sue nodded and crouched down, doing her best to hold Danon still. J.T just stepped back, it looked as though the girls had it under control.

All the while this was going on, Brandy had knelt down next to the casket, only to began sobbing uncontrollably, and carried off back home by Bob once again.

What the hell, this has got to be the craziest funeral that I've ever been to. J.T shook his head, walking over to the side, looking at everyone in attendance, patiently waiting for the service to conclude.

After everyone else had left, J.T pulled out a cigarette, lighting it up, he walked around the backside of the grave. He grabbed the shovel, stuck it in the ground and leaned on the top of the handle, taking a long drag off his smoke.

Well Duncan, you have people who care for you, woulda been nice to know you a lil more. See ya on the flip side my friend, we'll get ta know each other better then.

J.T. Worked for awhile filling the grave back in, it was dusk now. Putting the shovel over his sweaty shoulder, he walked back to town. Leaning the shovel next to the diner, he walked in, mingling with a few folks. He hadn't turned to face the bar fully yet, "Celeste, can I get a shot of whiskey and two beers please? How ya holding up anyways?"

"Sure, coming right up, Celeste went to Megaton to heal up, I'm Tap." The bald bartender replied.

J.T was a little let down by the new woman, he had hoped to chat with Celeste, he enjoyed her company. He smiled as he slid the caps across the bar to Tap.

"Tap, I'm J.T Taylor, pleasure to make your acquaintance." He picked up the shot glass, Here's to you Duncan, he threw the shot back.

"Ahhh" he reacted to the sour burn of the whiskey, "Tap? Would ya mind handing me my rifle and guitar case." J.T motioned to the corner behind the bar. Tap nodded, and handed them over to J.T, "Thanks Tap, mighty obliged."

No trip to the superduper mart I guess, haven't seen Frieda since this mornin' hope she's alright.

Slinging the rifle and case over his shoulder, he grabbed his two bags from the corner booth he had slept in, and walked out. He walked over behind the ramshackle shack across the way, where he had noticed some promising crops growing. Rolling out his bedroll, placing his bags as a pillow, he laid down putting his hands behind his head and just stared at the stars for a bit. Finishing his first beer, he sat up, removing the guitar from its case. Plucking a pick from his necklace, he began to strum and sing.

*******************************************

Love is a burning thing
and it makes a firery ring
bound by wild desire
I fell in to a ring of fire...

I fell in to a burning ring of fire
I went down,down,down
and the flames went higher.
And it burns,burns,burns
the ring of fire
the ring of fire.

The taste of love is sweet
when hearts like our's meet
I fell for you like a child
oh, but the fire went wild..

I fell in to a burning ring of fire.....

*******************************************
(OOC - Ring of Fire by Johnny Cash)
(OOC 2 - Sorry for the chitty post, I'm not feeling very J.Tish today )

OOC: Sorry, a short post but just enough to get the ball rolling.

Amelia Kovac -- Wasteland -- Evening


Calypso approached Amelia, looking her up and down. "We should discuss the means as to how we shall get Mr. Jake's confession. I have a more than a few ideas, but am quite curious as to yours?"

"That is a very good question," Joe piping in. "How do you intend to get an innocent man to confess?"

"Don't you worry about how I'm going to get a confession, let's just worry about you not killing the poor man." Amelia broke away the group as Calypso went to collect her loot. She stared out towards D.C as the sun hid behind the old buildings, giving way to the night. The first of the stars starting to appear above.

"Are we ready yet children, or are we going to watch these guards rot?"

"Let's move." Amelia spoke quietly, the aura of significance ringing through in her tone. She approached Joe as they all began to prepare to set off, "Joe. There's no such thing as a innocent man out here."

Jimmy Leggio - Evening

As Jimmy approached the diner he could see that the commotion was a funeral, although it seemed to have been disbanded. The only man remaining was one Jimmy hadn't yet met, and the man was filling in the grave. He assumed it was for Duncan, although in the Wasteland death is not exactly uncommon. Anybody could have wandered from Greyditch and upon a gang of raiders. In any case, so long as the town's safety wasn't at risk, and there was nothing to suggest it was, Jimmy couldn't care less about the problems of its inhabitants. He only cared for his problems. And right now his problems brought him to the diner, to see Celeste. Jimmy wasn't sure about the clothes, where they were or how much there were, but Harold had informed him they would be in the town. And Celeste would surely know if a shipment of clothes entered Greyditch.

The man filling the grave finished up, dropping his shovel. He then began walking towards the diner. He entered, Jimmy close behind. He quickly scanned the area for Joe, as he said they would talk later, but he was nowhere to be seen. Jimmy then looked towards the counter, surprised to see that Celeste was not behind it. Instead there was..

Is that a man or a woman? Jimmy edged his way towards the counter as the grave filler moved from the counter holding a rifle and what looked like an oddly shaped briefcase. Jimmy stopped before the counter, up close seeing the replacement was indeed a bald woman.

"Howdy, miss," Jimmy said cheerily, nodding to the woman and pulling out a stool. The new woman simply studied Jimmy silently as he took a seat.

"Jimmy Johnson," Jimmy introduced, extended an arm to the woman. "Tap," she replied, not shifting. Jimmy pulled his arm back and chucked. Bald. Ugly. [censored]. I think I prefer Celeste, at least you could stare at her [censored] while dealing with her.

"What.. what happened to Celeste?" Jimmy asked "Tap".

The woman shrugged. "She's gone to Megaton. I've been asked to fill in for a while."

"Ah, good good. Listen.. Tap. You haven't received word of a clothes delivery to Greyditch?" Jimmy asked, the woman, who merely shook her head. "Not that I know of," she said, yawning.

"Right-o, welcome to the Greyditch then" Jimmy said, maintaining a happy tone of voice. "Unfortunate about Duncan, though?"

"Sure," the woman replied indifferently as Jimmy got off the stool. He walked from the counter towards a booth. Might as well wait for Joe, Jimmy thought, seating himself and pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

"[censored] sake, I hate being that snake's [censored]," he muttered to himself, lighting the cig up.

Brandy - Home - early evening


“Sweet Pea,” said Bob as he pulled the blue and white boxes out of his coat pocket and showed them to her. “Did Ryler come here earlier and give you these? If he did, what did he tell you about them? If they are for the Jet, I want you to start taking them right away. We’ll make sure you get the pills on time and don’t have to worry about any accidents.”

Her head was buried on Bob's shoulder, her mouth by his neck, "yes, he gave them to me. He said they would make me sick, but cure any problems I had." Her voice muffled.

“Hello, James”, said Bob. “Glad you’re here. Brandy is going to need all of our help before this is over.”

Brandy tilted her head so she could see, James was holding a Nuka Cola.

"How are feeling Brandy, I just brought you a nuka cola, here have some “ James said as he took of cap and passed it to Brandy.

James pulled the gun from Atarah's waist, he removed the clip, " Just as I thought there wasn't any bullets in it...." James said, Brandy just sat there next to Bob.

The soda sounded good, it was cold to, she took a good sized drink of it. She gulped the first of it fast, " What the?" As the taste was disgusting, like the elixir her grandmother gave her when she was sick. She sat up and threw the bottle, it completely missed James as she had thrown it left handed.

"What the hell was in that James," Brandy stood up, "wa...why would you do that, what did you do to it?" Brandy quickly became livid, just like earlier in the day. She shoved James in his chest, just as she was about to speak, her stomach turned, she violently vomited all over the front of James.

Brandy got light headed and fell backwards, Atarah broke her fall as Bob helped to lay her down. She turned on her side, violently vomiting again, over and over. Her skin had become red and agitated, her tongue swelled up. Getting up on her and hands and knees, constantly heaving, and continuing to get sick. Brandy grabbed her throat, gasping and coughing, sweat poured down her face.

ooc:Jessica& Sue part coming up soon...

James Wilson – sickly Brandy's house… - Early evening

"What the hell was in that James," Brandy stood up, "wa...why would you do
that, what did you do to it?"

“It’s the cure, you should be fine in ….” James replied, but Brandy quickly
became livid, just like earlier in the day. She shoved James in his chest.
Just as she was about to speak, she violently vomited all over the front of James.

“ Jess did say there would be some throwing up… “ James said as he tried to
clean the vomit off his trousers.

Brandy fell backwards, Atarah broke her fall as Bob helped to lay her down. She turned on her side, violently vomiting again,
over and over. Her skin had become red and agitated.

"Oh dear God, what have I done?" James shouted as he ran outside.

Running into the Diner, James ran to Jess, Sue and Danon's booth, “Jess,
the cure, it’s made Brandy Really sick , she's even gone red” James said with a horrified look on his face.

“That wouldn’t happen unless…. Dear God, how much Jet did she take? Sue go back to our place and get my medic bag” Jessica said as both lady’s rushed out of the diner and towards Brandy’s house.

James walked up to the Counter, " Tap, give me your Strongest beer and a towel...."

"25 caps" Tap replied....

what have I done?

--------------------------------------


Jessica & sue – Brandy house – early evening

Rushing up Brandy’s staircase, Jessica walked in the room brandy was in, only to see that she was on her hands and knees, constantly heaving whlist being sick; Brandy then grabbed her throat, gasping and coughing, sweat poured down her face.

“Oh dear god it’s worsted that I though” Jessica stated, just as Sue ran up stairs with Jessica medic bag.

Opening her Medic bag, Jess pulled out a needle and small bottle mark med-C, filling her needle, Jessica injected Brandy in arm whilst say “ this should stop it…”

A few seconds later, Brandy slowly stopped coughing, her Vomiting stopped and letting go of her throat brandy curled up like a ball and stared at Jessica

“Jesus how much Jet did you take? That only happens when people have taken…”

Enough Jet to kill yourself

Pulling out a stimpack, Jessica injected Brandy again and then spoke to bob “ Brandy should be okay now... hmm Bob isn’t? Could I speak to you outside”

Walking out of room into the corridor and shutting the door, Jessica spoke to bob “"James gave brandy the cure but it seems like Brandy body tired to reject it, this only happens on people who take enough Jet to kill themselves...

“I'm not 100% though, so I will have to do some Test to understand what happened but I'm fairy sure the cure worked but this is strange..." Jessica said as she picked up the Nuka cola bottle and explained It.

Opening the door Jessica spoke again "I will need a sample of her vomit; Sue darling, is there a polystyrene bag inside my medic bag..."

-------------------------------------------------------

ooc: Feel free to have Sue/ Jess place some of Brandy vomit inside a small polystyrene bag

OOC: Weak post guys, sorry.

Joe Rennie. Early evening. Wasteland.

"Would that not arouse you my darling?" The strange cannibal asked Harold as she groped him. The giant's face remained completely blank as she stopped rubbing against him and drew her knife. Throwing it so that it spun through the air and stuck in the side of one of the corpse's heads with a wet, smacking sound. She turned back to the expressionless brute and flashed her eyes at him.

"No." Harold's deep voice rumbled at her back as he pushed the blade of the chinese sword behind his belt. "It wouldn't."

What the [censored] is the deal with these two Joe? They were tearing each other apart thirty seconds ago and now she's trying to get in his pants again. And why the [censored] does he keep refusing the offer? I'd have thought she was his type, since she seems to be a complete [censored] psycho too. Maybe he just doesn't like prosttutes...

"Are we ready yet children, or are we going to watch these guards rot?" The cannibal had completed her search of Wolfgang's pack brahmin and was now standing looking expectantly at Joe and Amelia.

"Ready when you are." Joe replied with a smile. "Though I think that Harold should take Wolfgang here back by himself. Less chance of him being spotted on his own. That ok with you?" The brute nodded silently before lifting the unconscious trader over his shoulder and slipping away into the shadows cast by a nearby building.

"Let's move." Amelia spoke quietly. She approached Joe as they all began to prepare to set off, "Joe. There's no such thing as a innocent man out here."

"They are rare Amelia, I'll give you that. But they do exist. Unfortunately for you, Harlan is one of them." Joe replied as the three of them set off for Grayditch. "He's innocent, honest and a believer. He won't confess easy, men of faith can be hard to break."

As the trio neared Grayditch, Joe spyed Zardoz's wagon trundling up the road away from the town. Calypso paused as she also spotted the trader, cocking her head to the side. Oh [censored]. Not here, this isn't the time of the place for this. Can't have her attacking people in sight of town. I want no part of this. The cannibal broke away from the other two, striding into the path of the oncoming wagon.

"Amelia and I will continue into town, we'll meet you there when you are done. I need to make an appearence in the diner, Duncan's funeral was today so I better show up and see how it went. Try not to draw any attention." Joe continued walking towards town, smiling and nodding at Zardoz as he passed the wagon. Within a few minutes the pair passed through the doorrway and stood within the diner. A few people had already begun to gather inside. Mostly newcomers that Joe didn't recognise. However, seated in a booth beside a window was Jimmy Leggio.

"Just the man I wanted to see," Joe said, slipping into the seat opposite. "Jimmy, this is Amelia. Amelia, Jimmy." He gestured towards the two as he made the introductions. "Do you have a minute to talk?"

Quite a bit had happened in the past few days. Vict was almost in shock. He didn't want to relive killing someone. I guess in a new town, this was bound to happen. Raiders happened. Religious ones though? He had cleaned up the mess. Animals.

He shouldn't be here. He should be looking for Frieda, making sure people were okay. He didn't. He couldn't go out there. Not after a raider invasion. He wouldn't even go to the funeral of the man whose grave he was making a cross for. No, he kept toiling away at the metalworks. He kept improving his tools and his craft. He was now a full-fledged smith again. He was ready to make almost anything that someone asked him to provided they had the materials. He had plenty of metal lying around, and was working on finishing a neon/metal sign for Spark & Flame.

He missed Frieda. He wished she would come back. He never told her of his feelings. They would be inappropriate for the workplace. Still, after the events, he missed her. He considered a rampage, but what good would killing the town do? He would probably be cut down in the middle of it anyway. So he worked.

Fighting through the shock and depression, he realized how selfish he seemed. He was okay. He had a wonderful living space in the upstairs of Spark & Flame. He had built himself a bed and found a box spring and mattress. He had furniture, a rare luxury in these times. He should be happy, but he wasn't. At all. So he worked. And worked. And worked.


(OOC: I'm back!!!!! )

Tao
-Moments later-
Almost as soon as Tao had arrived most of the bar patrons had left; he understood that he wasn’t exactly approachable but couldn’t understand why the entire crowd would leave at once. He turned to look out the broken window frame and noticed a commotion outside; there were people gathering but he couldn’t tell what had gotten their attention. He turned back to the woman behind the counter and asked her what was going on. She stopped wiping the counter and looked up to meet his gaze,
“Funeral,” she paused then continued speaking softly, “his name was Duncan.”
Tao took a moment to consider what he would say but then decided against speaking at all; he did not know the dead man and honestly he couldn’t care less about him, to suggest otherwise would be insincere.
He had been sitting for what seemed like hours when a man entered the diner who he recognized from when he had accepted his contract from Moriarty. The man was flanked by a woman who Tao had never seen before; the two of them sat and began speaking to one of the men who had been alone at one of the booths. Tao overheard the man he recognized introduce the woman as Amelia, the woman glanced at him for a moment and he thought maybe she had noticed his eavesdropping. Tao did not feel threatened but he certainly didn’t feel welcomed. Ignoring his discomfort he stood up and made his way over to the group; standing next to their table the group glanced up at him as he spoke,
“Where is Moriarty.”
(OOC: edited for error in character)

Cole Anders

Moriarty's Saloon-Evening

Cole stood at the main entrance of Moriarty's saloon, taking a few moments to catch his breath. He braced himself, placed one arm on the door, and slowly edged it open. When he entered, Cole was greeted by a revolting group of drunks populating the bar, all of whom turned their attention towards him. The door slammed shut behind him, echoing throughout the room. Slowly, he began walking forward, careful not to make eye contact with any of the men. He took a seat at the bar and waited for the bartender, who was even more of a treat. "A ghoul.." Cole thought, taking a while to look him over. He had never seen one up so close before.

"You gonna' order something, smoothskin, or just gonna stare at me?" Gob asked in a irritated tone.

"My apologizes, sir," Cole responded, turning his attention away from the ghoul.

"Your going to let GOB talk to you like that? What a fuc*ing [censored]!" A random within the bar roared, the rest joining in to laugh. The bar then broke out in murmurs, its atmosphere returning to normal. Cole scanned the room for the man who had made the remark, and turned his attention to him.

"Do you have a problem with ghouls?" He asked in a polite tone, careful not to agitate anymore then he wanted.

"A better question is, how do you NOT have a problem with ghouls?!" The man responded, a couple laughs emerging from the bar.

"I don't. And you shouldn't either. Their people just like me and you.. They just look different. Do you have any idea what this ghoul has gone through in his life? The things hes experienced? More then you will in three lifetimes, I can tell you that," Cole said, standing up. The bars recipients all turned their attention on the argument.

"Hes a fuc*ing ghoul, not a person. A disgusting, lousy, rotting sack of meat!" The man replied.

"Your point is? That just because he looks different, it makes him less of a person?" Cole questioned. "Does it?"

"Look, if its a fight you want, we can go right here, right now!" The man stood up and approached Cole, a very angry expression on his face. "I've been dying to kick a someones ass all night,"

"I simply disagreed with your statement and you resort to violence. How disappointing," Cole said, smirking at his success to rile the man.

"I'll fuc*ing kill you!" He screamed, lunging at Cole, who easily stepped out of his way. He crashed into the bar stools and fell to floor, dazed. The sound of the crash echoed within the bar, and the entire room filled with laughter.

"Not so funny when your the one getting laughed at, huh?" He asked, bending down to the mans level.

As Cole finished his sentence, a man emerged from the back room, screaming about the noise. "What the hell is going on here, Gob?" He asked, examining the fallen man. Cole stood up and wiped off his suit as the man approached.

"Mr. Moriarty, I presume?" Cole said, reaching out to shake the mans hand.

"You'd presume right, boy," Moriarty said, shaking his hand wearily. "Now, could you please explain to me why your assaulting my customers?"

Cole shrugged, "He made a statement that I disagreed with, and he didn't have the facts to back it up," Moriarty sighed and ordered Gob to take the man to the Clinic, then lead Cole to the back. He caught eyes with Gob as he left, who mouthed the words "Thank you". Cole smiled, nodding in return.

________________________

"I don't understand what compelled you to come to me instead of Greyditch.." Moriarty asked as Cole explained why he was in town.

"It was an accident. Got a little lost in the wasteland.." He responded.

"Well.. What exactly can you do?" Moriarty questioned.

"I used to be a Private-eye.." Cole replied. "Didn't end to well.."

"A private-what now?"

"Private-Eye. A detective.. In laymans term. They solve crimes, bring in criminals, law and order type of work," Cole explained, attempting to mask his extensive vocabulary. "Ha! So your a wannabe sheriff?" The old man laughed, rocking back and forth. "Thats rich. The last thing Greyditch needs is a goody-two shoes who doesn't know his place,"

"I can help protect the town.. You know, keep things civil," Cole added, hoping to persuade the drunken bastard that he could be a helpful and worthwhile addition.

"Look.. With the things that already go on in that town.. I'd be best if you just went on your way. Someone snooping around asking questions won't be of any help. Doesn't seem like theres much for you.." Moriarty attempted to finish his sentence, but was quickly cut off.

"Give me a chance. Worst comes to worst.. I die. What do you lose?" Cole said.

"Oh, I don't give chances. Just tips. Head to Greyditch if you want.. Just don't come crying back here when they rip you to shreds for trying to play sheriff.." Moriarty responded. "That won't be a problem. Any other advice you want to share before I depart?" Cole asked, leaving his seat.

"Just one small tip..." Moriarty said, sitting the boy back down. "Look, Greyditch ain't all it seems. But if you give your loyalty to me.. I can make it worthwhile,"

"Loyalty?" Cole questioned, intrigued by the proposition. "Loyalty. Agree to stand by my side when the time comes," He concluded. "I.. I don't know. Why should I trust you?" Cole's mind circled with ideas of what the man had planned. He recited Graces words from the previous day, "Don't Trust Moriarty,"

"Because its my town, boy, and siding against me would be a grave mistake. You don't have decide now.. Just think about it," Cole nodded, getting up from his seat.

"As a sign of trust, I'll give you some very valuable info. Theres an old police station on the outskirts of Greyditch.. With a little cleaning, it could be.. Re-purposed for your needs," Cole made sure to store the information, and thanked him. He shook his hand and quickly departed the saloon, one thing reeling through his head. "Don't.. Trust.. Moriarty.."

Amelia Kovac -- Wasteland / Grayditch -- Evening

"They are rare Amelia, I'll give you that. But they do exist. Unfortunately for you, Harlan is one of them. He's innocent, honest and a believer. He won't confess easy, men of faith can be hard to break."

"But the question is what forces a man out here to turn to faith? A spiritual quest? Hope... Redemption?" She said shooting a questionable look at Joe, before shrugging as they began the walk towards Grayditch. Amelia stride has a certain excitement behind it. She had heard so much and seen so little, and Moriarty's daughter... It was her that she was most curious about. It was doubtful that this new found daughter knew about her father's business, it made for very awkward conversation to reveal that you was actually a liar and a crook who blackmailed and murdered for power and if she did know then she would have to hand it to the Irish bastard for being so honest.

It didn't take long for Grayditch to come into view. A new endeavour for Amelia and a perfect opportunity to set up a more secure location of shop. Funnelling information in and out was easier in Megaton, not that it didn't have its danger but it was Tenpenny Tower that was an issue, with their isolationist policy and what-not. It made hearing and seeing from her eyes and ears a more difficult task.

A strange wagon was closing in on them. Calypso came to a halt, it was like a kitten having came upon a injured bird. Wide eyed and licking it's lips. "Amelia and I will continue into town, we'll meet you there when you are done. I need to make an appearance in the diner, Duncan's funeral was today so I better show up and see how it went. Try not to draw any attention."

The pair seemed to pick up the pace to get away from the ensuring butchery. Joe nodded briefly to the trader and they passed by, Amelia looked back as Calypso stood in their way. "Moriarty sure knows how to pick them." It was only a short walk to Grayditch after that . A sense of enthusiasm ran down her spine and she took her first steps into the settlement. Alas the place was quiet but of course the funeral Joe mentioned would naturally clear the streets. And the Diner didn't appear to be that full either, only a few people. "Just the man I wanted to see," Joe said, slipping into the seat opposite with Amelia making haste to take the seat next to him. "Jimmy, this is Amelia. Amelia, Jimmy." He gestured towards the two as he made the introductions.

"Mr. Leggio," She said offering her hand. "I've heard much about you."

"Where is Moriarty?" A voice cut in on the little business meeting going on, she smiled at the sudden image popping into her head. "It's what? Eight? Chances are he'll be at the Saloon harassing poor old Gob and pissing in Billy's drink."

OOC - This isn't the same as the latter part of post #164 but Bob wouldn't have sat there and hoped someone would show up to help Brandy. I used as much of Jessica's dialog as would make sense.



Bob Dobbs

Brandy’s House – Early Evening

"Yes, he gave them to me”, Brandy replied. “He said they would make me sick, but cure any problems I had."

This will do it, then. First we get her off the Jet, then we can work on the underlying problems. Just need to talk her into taking it.

“Hello, James”, said Bob. “Glad you’re here. Brandy is going to need all of our help before this is over.”

"How are feeling Brandy”, said James as he removed the cap from a bottle of Nuka Cola and handed it to Brandy, “ I just brought you a Nuka Cola, here have some.“

James then stepped back. Atarah winced as James reached down and pulled the 10mm out of her belt and checked it. “Just as I thought, there wasn't any bullets in it.", he said smugly.

Braver man that I. She doesn’t strike me as the sort of woman you take liberties with.

Brandy took the bottle from James, then shifted position and took a long pull on it. After swallowing some her face crinkled up in disgust.

“What the?”, she said angrily as she sat bolt upright and threw the bottle at him. As the bottle had been in her left hand, it went wide and hit the wall.

Huh?! Why did she do that?

"What the hell was in that James?," Brandy demanded angrily as she stood up and shoved James back towards the bedroom door, "Wa...why would you do that, what did you do to it?".

“It’s the cure,”, James replied defensively. “You should be fine in ….”

Brandy opened her mouth to cut him off, but she then gagged and violently vomited on James.

“ Jess did say there would be some throwing up… “ James said patronizingly as he started trying to clean the vomit off his trousers.

You thoughtless bastard! You knew we had real medicine and you slipped her that snake oil anyway. What else are you planning to slip her without asking? And Frieda thought I was the threat to Brandy…

Brandy then staggered back and began to fall. Atarah caught her and broke her fall, then together with Bob helped her to lie on her side, while she continued violently retching. Bob examined her, Brandy’s skin had become red and agitated, her tongue swelled up. She got up on her and hands and knees, still gagging and retching. Brandy grabbed her throat, gasping and coughing, sweat pouring down her face.

Either there was something poisonous in that [censored], or she’s having a allergic reaction to something in it. Either way this will kill her if we don’t act fast. First order of business is to get the deadwood out of the way.

“You’ve done quite enough damage already”, Bob said to James icily, his eyes blazing with fury. “Now get the [censored] out of here before I knock you on your ass!”.

"Oh Dear God, what have I done?" James shouted as he hastily left the house.

I’ll deal with him later.

“Atarah”, said Bob. I need you to do two things for me. First, in the side room downstairs you’ll find a pile of stuff. In there is a set of brown leather saddlebags, they’ve got my medical supplies in them. Please bring them to me. After that, go and get the town Doc…his name is Ryler.” Bob then described Ryler’s appearance and the location of his house. “Tell him it’s either a poisoning or an acute allergic reaction and bring him here once he’s gotten his equipment. Don’t take no for a answer. If he isn’t at home, check the Diner. Please hurry, we haven’t much time!”

Atarah immediately sprinted out of the room.

“Hang on Sweet Pea, I’m here for you.”, Bob said as he checked her pulse. It was weak and rapid. “Let me know if it gets any harder to breathe.”

The rash, pulse, vomiting…this has all the signs of Anaphylaxis. She is allergic to something in that [censored] James slipped her. Epinephrine will reverse it until Ryler can get here. Fortunately, I got some epinephrine autoinjectors from the Vault.

Ararah returned moments later with the saddlebags. As soon as she handed them over she was off again, not pausing long enough even to acknowledge Bob’s “Thank you”.

Bob pulled out the Med Kit he had used on Brandy yesterday and rummaged around for a epinephrine auto-injector. Finding one, he prepared it.

“Sweet Pea, I’m going to give you a shot.”, Bob said soothingly. “This should help you breathe normally again. Do you understand?”

Brandy looked over at him, and nodded yes. She was clearly terrified and having difficulty breathing. Bob administered the shot and monitored her pulse and breathing closely. After a moment her breathing improved.

Thank God, it appears to be working. She should be OK until Ryler gets here.

“Come and lie down, Sweet Pea”, said Bob as he gently guided her to lie on her left side. “Ryler will be here soon to help. Stay calm and everything will be OK. Let me know if the symptoms come back.”

Brandy didn’t speak but clutched his left hand in both of hers. Her breathing was just starting to return to normal and her vitals were improving a bit but Bob watched her closely for any sign of a relapse. After a moment, he heard someone enter and come up the stairs.

Ryler and Atarah? That was quick.

A moment later, Jessica, followed closely by Sue walked into the room.

“Oh dear God, it’s worse than I thought” Jessica stated, then she turned and began digging through the medical bag Sue was carrying, pulling out a hypo and a bottle labeled ‘Med C’. “ this should stop it…”.

“You’ll have to forgive me”, Bob snapped, “But after seeing the effects of the medicine of yours that James slipped her, I want a second opinion on anything you propose. I’ve sent for Ryler, he’ll be here soon.”

“Jesus how much Jet did you take?”, Jessica said to Brandy. “That only happens when people have taken…”

“She hasn’t had any in the last two hours, at least.”, Bob cut her off. “I took away what Jet she had left…isn’t that true, Sweet Pea?.”

Brandy nodded yes.

“Are you sure”, asked Bob. “I won’t get mad as long as you tell the truth, this is very important. Have you taken any Jet at all since you left town before the funeral?”

Brandy shook her head no.

“There you have it”, said Bob to Jessica. “And if she had taken a lethal dose of Jet, why would she turn a pistol on herself? No, what actually happened is that she is allergic to something in that so-called Antidote of yours and went into anaphylaxis when he slipped it to her in a bottle of Nuka Cola…. by the way ignoring my prior advice to approach Ryler about it and then talk to Brandy about this if he agreed it was safe and effective. If I hadn’t had some epinephrine, his thoughtlessness could have killed her.”

OOC: med C is what the doctors give you in fallout 3 & NV to flush drugs and stuff out of your system, as it not given a name ( just that it's per-war) in game (or NV) I just called it med-C (cure)

edit: @Tiberius67: Ryler gave brandy the Pill version( I forgot what it was called it) if it comes up in a convesation you can CC jess going " hmm that is the pill version, slighty weaker but it does the Job."

Jessica – Brandy’s house- early evening

Brandy shook her head no.

Her Red eyes tell another story....


“There you have it”, said Bob to Jessica. “And if she had taken a lethal dose of Jet, why would she turn a pistol on herself? No, what actually happened is that she is allergic to something in that so-called Antidote of yours and went into anaphylaxis when he slipped it to her in a bottle of Nuka Cola…. by the way ignoring my prior advice to approach Ryler about it and then talk to Brandy about this if he agreed it was safe and effective. If I hadn’t had some epinephrine, his thoughtlessness could have killed her.”

“ There’s nothing inside the cure that she could be allergic too you fool! It’s only engineered Jet, epinephrine and Med-x (morphine) and you don’t if he went to Ryler, whoever he is?

Meanwhile Suehad began Playing with her pistol but looked a bob with a “you touch her and I’ll willl [censored] kill you” Look on her face…

“if you give me time to collect, test and anolysis some of Brandy Vomit & this “Nuka cola bottle” it was in may be able to figure out what happened”

Suddenly the Robot Sue briefly mentioned before walked into the room"Miss Brandy," he rasped as he waddled into the room, "Is there anything you require my friend?" Slowly Mirvin turned to face the small group. "Who is responsable for this?"

“I’m not sure, James gave Brandy the cure and something went wrong Mr robot, now to be safe will need to flush Brandy’s systems with Med C or are you going to an [censored] again and not let be do it, bob….” Jessica said, now a bit angry herself

------ what James is doing (doesn't really require a post) ------------

back in the dinner James had sat down in empty booth James, drinking some of the vodka
he had opened the chinese book and began reading, Taking a Vodka shot between each page...

Mirvin. Early evening. Diner.

After the funeral had ended Mirvin had slowly thumped along the street, following some of the others as they gathered there. Mirvin attempted to start a conversation with the bald young miss who had taken Miss Celeste's place behind the bar. But the woman, who introduced herself as Miss Tap, seemed uninterested and rude. Mervin eventually gave up and retreated to a corner out of the way pulling his pocketwatch from a pouch on his rucksack and examining it once more. He was attempting to follow Mr Zardoz's advice, but he didn't feel any differently, he still didn't feel anything. It was possable that Mr Zardoz had swindled him, he concluded that he should discuss the matter with Miss Brandy. The young miss had designated herself as Mirvin's friend and offered to assist him in any way she could.

As Mirvin was procassing this thought Mr James rushed into the diner, looking worried and flustered. “Jess, the cure, it’s made Brandy Really sick , she's even gone red” Mr James said.

“That wouldn’t happen unless…. Dear God, how much Jet did she take? Sue go back to our place and get my medic bag” Miss Jess replied as she and Miss Sue both darted from their seats and rushed out of the diner and towards Miss Brandy’s house. Mirvin follwed, though at a much slower pace. Miss Brandy had announced herself as a friend, social protocol called for him to visit her, to "check she's doin' ok" as Mr Frank would have phrased it.

As Mirvin waddled by Mr James walked up to the Counter, "Tap, give me your Strongest beer and a towel...."

Mr James overtook Mirvin before the protectron was far from the diner's door, passing by him without comment and disappearing down the street. Eventually his awkward gait bough Mirvin to the doorway. Stepping through Mirvin could hear a voice coming from upstairs, a voice he recognised as belonging to the scarred man that he had previously ejected from Miss Brandy's house.

“And if she had taken a lethal dose of Jet, why would she turn a pistol on herself? No, what actually happened is that she is allergic to something in that so-called Antidote of yours and went into anaphylaxis when he slipped it to her in a bottle of Nuka Cola…. by the way ignoring my prior advice to approach Ryler about it and then talk to Brandy about this if he agreed it was safe and effective. If I hadn’t had some epinephrine, his thoughtlessness could have killed her.”

Mirvin waddled across Miss Brandy's front room and up the stairs. His metal feet thumping loudly as he went. He located Miss Brandy lying on her side in her bedroom with a small crowd gathered round her. "Miss Brandy," he rasped as he waddled into the room, "Is there anything you require my friend?" Slowly Mirvin turned to face the small group. "Who is responsable for this?"

Calypso - Grayditch outskirts - early evening


"Amelia and I will continue into town, we'll meet you there when you are done. I need to make an appearance in the diner, Duncan's funeral was today so I better show up and see how it went. Try not to draw any attention." Joe and Amelia continued walking towards town.

"Very well then Joseph, you and Amelia run along now." Calypso said as she motioned towards town, "and Joseph, remember, I do wish to have an audience with Mr. Leggio when I arrive, do not disappoint."

Calypso tapped her fingers on the butt of her short sword, contemplating for a moment.

It tis quite the unusual caravan is it not? Perhaps they have some items of interest unlike that Wolfgang.

Approaching the caravan, the merc in the front raised his weapon at the bloody woman. Calypso lifted her hands, "I mean you no harm, I wish to peruse your inventory. Surely such an unique wagon must carry some wonderful items." She flashed a smile, blood still on her teeth thanks to Harold's elbow.

The man, Zardoz, had quite the spiel, piquing Calypso's interest even more. He had mentioned some potions, she would have Harold, even if it meant drugging him. Zardoz showed her the three different potions, explaining the effects of each one.

"I will take four of the invigorating, and four of the love pa..." She stopped, plucking a black evening gown from the display. The fabric was soft, silky and inviting, she held it up, examining the dress. The strappy, V cut back, began at the shoulders, coming to a point in the small of the back. A long slit on the left side, a small V cut in the front would showcase her cleavage as well.

If I present myself to Harold wearing this, he cannot possibly turn me down, "I must have this too, and matching black shoes if you have them kind sir."

While the man in the shiny suit rummaged for the apparel, his flamboyant companion came over to her, asking if Calypso would like a palm reading.

"My dear, there is no need for such a thing, for I know my purpose" Calypso said with a devilish smile, "I determine my own destiny."

She settled the debt for her items, using the water she purchased and her small compact mirror, she washed her face. Zardoz had been kind enough to allow her to change into her new wardrobe, using his wagon as a dressing room. Swishing water in her mouth, rubbing her fingers on her teeth, she cleaned the off her bloody teeth. Calypso walked onward, down what must have been Grayditch's main street, catching a glimpse of herself in a window as she passed by. She stopped, sat her sack containing her shiskebob, gauntlet, leather armor, and remaining items on the ground. She put her hands on her hips, held her left leg out slightly, the slit in the gown fell on either side of her leg. She tilted her head down, looking over the top of her sunglasses at her reflection.

"You vivacious vixen" she marveled, blowing a kiss to her reflection.

Gathering up her sack, nose in the air, she made her way to the diner at the end of the street. She sat her sack down, next to the diner entrance, within view should some unfortunate soul attempt to make off with it. Calypso whisked inside, holding out her arms and turned completely around, like she was dancing at a ball. Noticing Joe, Amelia and Jimmy sitting in a booth with an asian man standing at the end of the table, she started heading over gracefully. She suddenly stopped, turning her attention at the entrance as Harold lumbered through. Calypso caught a glimpse of the bald bar tender watching him walk in also, she curled her lip glaring at the woman.

Inbred swine, he is mine, Calypso walked up to Harold, hiking her left leg onto the bench in the booth, the gown draqed off her long leg. Firmly grabbing the beasts waist, pressing herself to him, "Harold my love, does my new attire please you?" She stepped back, spinning around once more, "Come, let us sit darling." Calypso took Harolds hand leading over to the booth, she promptly plucked a stool placing it at the end of the table for the brute. Sliding into the booth next to Jimmy.

"Jimmy, I am delighted to be graced with your presence once again. How are Laura and Lucille?" Calypso said as she placed her hands on top of one another on the table, "Joseph, I must hand it to you, I fully expected you to fail me."

Calypso faced the asian man standing next to Harold, "such a dashing waiter, may I get a menu darling? Oh, and tell that wretched bar wench, if she looks at Harold or I like that again, I will dissect her like a science experiment and make her my late night snack."

"Any who, Jimmy, do tell of our future business endeavors together, I would like to see your stock firsthand."

Michael Bright, Grayditch, Evening
After settling his business with James, Michael had left the diner. He wondered around the town not doing much but taking in the surroundings and thinking on what to do next. When he first came to Grayditch he had a small encampment a few streets down. He made his way over their and had a nap.
In his sleep he dreamed of his past in Canterbury Commons.

Michael was trailing behind the brahmin as he and his girl friend Madison were coming back from Rivet City after trading all of their gear to the local merchants. Michael had only known Madison for a month, but they shared something special together. The brahmin started to sort and make sounds. Michael tried to calm it down, but it was still going nuts.

"What's wrong with it?" asked Madison trying to help Michael quite the animal.

"I don't know" said Michael.

That's when it happened, gunfire filled the air. 10mm bullets went into the Brahmin killing it, Michael and Madison used the body of the Brahmin as cover. Every now and then, Michael and Madison would let loose a shot or two.
Madison looked up to see if the attackers were gone, there was a bang and a bullet found itself between Madison's eyes. She fell down, blood pooling allover.

"Madison! No you bastards no" yelled Michael standing up and shooting at the agressors. One of them ran up to him, Michael shot him in the face and walked up to him. To Michael's horror the man was him.

"No!" yelled Michael out loud.

Michael woke up drenched in sweat, he looked around it was evening. He got up and walked towards Grayditch.

"Oh, Madison I miss you" said Michael.

Jimmy Leggio - Evening - The Diner

Jimmy had been waiting in the diner for about a half hour when he saw Rennie enter. He rushed to the booth and sat opposite Jimmy, a woman close behind. She was.. pretty. Long hair, light smooth skin. She sat next to Joe. Jimmy wasn't sure how to react, Rennie was certainly putting him on the spot.

"Just the man I wanted to see," he said, looking at Jimmy. "Jimmy, this is Amelia," he introduced, pointing to the woman next to him. "Amelia, Jimmy." Jimmy eyed his companion suspiciously before nodding at her.

"Jimmy Johnson, a plea--" he began, but was interrupted by the women. "Mr. Leggio. I've heard much about you." She offered her hand, and Jimmy accepted gently. "I see you're all up to date.. Amelia." He then turned his attention to Joe. "I assume she knows my business here will be kept out of view for as long as possible?" Before he could reply, the conversation was interrupted.

"Where is Moriarty?" Jimmy looked from the table to see another unfamiliar face.

"It's what? Eight? Chances are he'll be at the Saloon harassing poor old Gob and pissing in Billy's drink," Amelia answered. Jimmy considered calling the moron out for the interruption, but decided against it.

"Come, let us sit darling," Jimmy heard, from behind him. He closed his eyes, and couldn't help but smile. He knew exactly who the voice belonged to.

Calypso arrived at the booth, a stool in one hand, a massive hand belonging to Harold in the other. She dropped the stool at the edge of the table and gestured for Harold to sit in it before sitting in next to Jimmy.

"Jimmy, I am delighted to be graced with your presence once again. How are Laura and Lucille?" Calypso asked in her usual overly dramatic fashion. "Joseph, I must hand it to you, I fully expected you to fail me."

"Calypso," Jimmy replied. "It has indeed been too long. Laura and Lucille are..." Jimmy paused and looked up at the moron, "at home. Out of harm's way now it seems, seeing as you made it here," he finished, chuckling.

Calypso shifted so he was facing the moron.

"Such a dashing waiter, may I get a menu darling? Oh, and tell that wretched bar wench, if she looks at Harold or I like that again, I will dissect her like a science experiment and make her my late night snack."

"Any who, Jimmy, do tell of our future business endeavors together, I would like to see your stock firsthand."

"I do not believe we should discuss business while being intruded on," Jimmy replied, glancing at the Asian man. "Joe, if you could perhaps tell this man to move we could begin talking about just what the [censored] is going on here."