Life in the wasteland is depressing

Jazzlyn was leading the guard for some trader, she didn’t bother to get his name. His name wasn’t important. Keeping him alive and keeping the caps flowing was all that mattered. It was a living, an exciting yet unfufilling living. Ever since her people disbanded she’s been lost. Looking for a place to call home or maybe someone to call home.

She should be in her sleeping bag, but she couldn’t sleep. She found herself setting by the fire staring into it. She could see the new comer patrolling, the girl was like a machine, she didn’t miss anything. If the newgirl wanted she could take over as leader of the caravan guard. Jazz thought maybe that might be a good thing somedays. To go back to being just another grunt, but that meant less caps for drugs and booze. What is the new girl’s name something day. Tuesday maybe Thursday. No wait it’s Friday.

Erin was patrolling the peremiter of the caravan. The trader was sleeping like a baby in some building they discovered, the guy always insisted on sleeping in a building. He was apparently to good to sleep on the ground like the rest of them. The only living thing allowed in the building was his personal guard dog, a vicious little cyborg mutt. She noticed Jazzlyn watching her. Why is she staring at me? Does she know? How would she know from what I was able to peice together she’s never been anywhere near where Synths have been sent. Unless she met a rogue Synth. I better keep an eye on her she could be trouble.

Arabella was staying at some giant lizard themed motel. The accomadations were just okay at best. The only thing she liked about the motel was Manny and Craig, they were former soldiers. She found that Daisy woman very suspicious.