"Well? What needs fixing?"

April 6th, 8pm

Visited the Finch farm. Just got back this afternoon. General checkups and caps for a wagon full of goodies and scrap. 

Finch had this gorgeous, pink porcelain sink! No idea what I’m going to do with it, but I wasn’t passing that up. Paid too much. Was too eager. He saw that. Finch reads me too well.

Family seems in good health. No major concerns No concerns more major than sore backs and cramped feet. Gave them some stretches that could help. Told Mrs. Finch to rest more. She won’t.

Things seemed tense between the family and the youngest son. Jake. No one brought it up, so I didn’t ask. Moody kid. Hopefully all it is. that’s all it is.

Anything off-putting about the woman’s behavior was mitigated by the permission to continue. Many people were paranoid, secretive, or otherwise unwilling to share anything, even knowledge, with strangers. Aniya could be like that herself.

The lull did make it difficult to find the right track to take the conversation deeper. “I had heard you modified them for help with medical procedures. Is that right?”

“Uh-huh..” She kept her mouth open slightly as if to convey she was about to continue, but she took the time to count out six screws from the heap, scooting them into a small pile with her pencil. She jotted down the number in her notebook before looking up.

Aniya had stayed back while the discussion raged, out of respect for their ‘privacy’ as well as unwillingness to get involved. It took a few more minutes once it was done to work up the nerve to approach. After all, she was about to ask something rather specific and arguably invasive. That was why she’d left her power armor and her robots outside. Better to appear friendly, as best she could.

“Um, yes, hello.” Aniya’s reply tripped over itself, and she stood up straighter from being addressed by the tall woman. “Right, I–yes, I was wondering if I could ask about your Protectron?”

There was a brief rising of her brows as the stranger stumbled over her words, but the point came quickly and Diana’s impatience ended there. Her eyes returned to her notebook, pencil still marking her place with its point.

“Everyone does. Don’t see why you can’t.”

Send me a ☁ for a thought my muse has had about yours.

Send me a ☁ for a thought my muse has had about yours.

Send me a ☁ for a thought my muse has had about yours.

Big adventures, or just introductory conversation. We can plot, or we can wing it. Short and sweet, or super lengthy. I’m ready for whatever.

Not that a second mouth could possibly make the man any louder - or more annoying - but Diana was beyond done with this debate.

“I said I’d pay you for whatever you brought me, and that’s what it’s worth.” The mechanic leaned against the wall of her dwelling, glancing over her shoulder at the scrap pile in her shop. It was a decent amount of material the adventurer had brought her, but the contents weren’t exactly the height of rarity. “If you wanted more, you should have brought more. Or at least better. I told you what I wanted.”

“Do you know what I went through to get that? I had to clear out an entire nest of molerats. That’s their entire den!”

“Wow. The whole den.” She regretted the flat response. Sarcasm wasn’t going to end this conversation. “Look, it’s just not that valuable. I can get half this shit over the hill. I’m paying you what it’s worth. But you did the job. And molerats can be a pain in the ass, so.. Next time you come in, I’ll knock some caps off your medical bill. Best it’s gonna’ get.”

He was clearly still upset over the transaction, but with a sigh and a handshake, he agreed. He muttered something about, ‘better be really busted up next time’ and ‘if I even pass through this shithole again’ as he left. Sour shit.

Diana returned to the scrap then and began sorting and jotting down inventory. This on that shelf, that in this drawer, those thrown on the left-most pile, so on and so forth. She’d made a small dent in the pile when some movement caught her eye.

Diana was born and raised in a New York settlement called Neversink. Not to be confused with the prewar town of Neversink**, the settlement was named after the Neversink River (or Neversink Creek) - a tributary of the Deleware River - and was built near the river, much further south than the original town.

The river provides many resources to Neversink; supporting various useful flora, attracting thirsty animals, and of course being filled with a variety of aquatic life, such as trout, bluegill, mussels, and more - some resembling their prewar ancestors more than others. 

The river is not without its dangers, though. Flooding is a yearly fear, dependent on the levels of rain and melting snow each spring; the creatures hunted along the shore and surrounding wilds can easily become the hunters; the stiller streams and muddy banks are breeding grounds for huge, aggressive insects; and while many of the animals within the river are edible, they are also quite dangerous, and that doesn’t just mean the radiation levels in the trout. Mirelurks and giant salamanders are commonly spotted, and the local eels and lamprey have mutated into large, dangerous creatures over the last 200 years. 

Diana’s childhood settlement was absolutely riddled with the iconic “I ❤ NY” logo. It was inescapable. Items ranging from the mundane to the bizarre, almost every home had mugs, plates, floor mats, keychains, and other prewar curios bearing the logo. Even the exterior wasn’t safe. Walls were covered in signs and peeling “I ❤ NY” stickers, houses and shops were patched and decorated with commemorative license plates. One store even had an “I ❤ NY” toilet lid swinging from a post out front.

Many of these interesting items were recovered from the ruins of New York City itself by brave explorers, scavengers, and traders. Diana’s parents themselves sold heaps of the memorabilia while they were alive.

Diana brought several such items with her to the Commonwealth as small reminders of home.

A small, plastic keychain - a gift from her brother - clinks against her keys on a keyring.

Two mugs.

A hat.

A few shirts.

A roll of bumper stickers. She has used them sparingly.

The commemorative “I ❤ NY” license plate welded to the back paneling of her protectron, SAMCU.

* I know the I ❤ NY logo wasn’t made until 1977, but I really don’t think it’s unrealistic to include in the Fallout verse. Let me have fun.