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Brigitte Thibodeaux

"Tell me a story. Tell me about you. I want to know where you come from and where you're going."

0 · 484 views · located in Aegis

a character in “Fallout: Red Texas”, as played by Fear of a Female Planet

Description

BIRTH FACTS:
Full Name: Brigitte Thibodeaux
Gender: Female
Race: Caucasian
Ethnicity: American
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Brown

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTIONS:
Height: 5'1"
Weight: 135 lbs.
Body Type: Petite hourglass
Hair Style: She usually allows her hair to be long and straight, or braids it on her head like a crown.
Appearance: Petite, happy, and pretty; takes pride in her appearance and uses makeup and whatever she can to distract from the scar behind her ear.

THE OTHER THINGS:
Sexuality: Straight
Age: 28
Scars: A long slash behind her right ear, hidden by long hair.
Ink/Holes: A brilliant scarlet-and-orange phoenix sprawling from her right hip up to her shoulders.
Attire: Black slim-legged pants; braided brown leather belt; dark red leather boots with dull gold buckles; dark azure quarter-sleeved tunic; occasionally a black sandproof leather vest; opaque goggles for sandstorms

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THE GOOD:
Friendly.
Charismatic.
Empathetic.
Perceptive.
Sweet.

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AND THE BAD:
Stubborn.
Willful.
Rebellious.
Anxious.
Sheltered.

S.P.E.C.I.A.L.:
+3 Strength
+6 Perception
+6 Endurance
+9 Charisma
+8 Intelligence
+5 Agility
+3 Luck

SKILLS:
Combat: Unarmed
Active: Lockpick, Sneak, Repair, Science, First Aid
Passive: Gambling, Deception, Persuasion, Speech

PERKS:
Black Widow
Swift Learner
Comprehension
Educated
Child at Heart
Toughness
Chemist
Computer Whiz
Infiltrator
Explorer
Night Person
Impartial Mediation
Scrounger
Light Step
Small Frame

EQUIPMENT:
Toolbet with various tools for radio equipment, other basic items
Fingerless leather gloves
Universal handheld radio


WEAPONS & TOYS:
n/a

OTHER:
Public speaking.
Writing.
Playing music.
Engineering and recording sound/music.
Has simple training in marksmanship, but afraid to venture out and use it. Doesn't typically carry a weapon.


CHILDHOOD:
Brigitte has very little memory of her childhood due to a severe blow to the head when a raiding camp subdued the settlement her family lived in with several others. Left for dead at the age of 11, she was picked up while comatose by a traveling group and taken immediately to Aegis, a secure compound in the desert between Dallas and Austin intended to provide temporary shelter, supplies, and information to travelers looking for a safe, neutral place to stay. She came out of her coma after two weeks and awoke to find herself in a far safer place than where she'd slipped out of consciousness. Those who stay at Aegis permanently took her in, and helped her emerge from years of night terrors and calmly brought her back to stability in her teenage years. She's been trained by one of the old-timers at Aegis in lockpicking and sneaking skills in fulfilling a role in an emergency situation; as a result of her childhood trauma she possesses an aversion to handling weapons. She's opted to not depart from Aegis, as she has come to regard it as her home and the staff her family, and fears leaving its confines.

NOWADAYS:
Brigitte helps facilitate the comms division of Aegis; primarily, she's responsible for daytime broadcast of information over the radio waves, playing selected music and giving travelers warnings of what may be around the corner, according to accounts given by travelers stopping into Aegis' gathering spot. Brigitte is friendly and cordial, but still very anxious under the surface and fears the outside world. She has a tendency to avoid sexual situations due to the strict code of conduct placed upon her as a member of the Aegis settlement regarding how to interact with guests and travelers. Her bright personality doesn't give much of a hint to her physical resilience despite being apprehensive around weapons. Due to working in the comms division of Aegis, she's proficient in both equipment repairs and improvisational speaking. To another end, she spends a great deal of time in the common area of Aegis, and loves to converse over a game of poker.

So begins...

Brigitte Thibodeaux's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Brigitte Thibodeaux Character Portrait: Bonita Abbott

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"... and that was the end of our Hank Williams hour. You're listening to AIR... Aegis Inclusive Radio... your destination to come sit by the fire and cry your sweet little heart out, if your sweetheart so decided to leave you in the dust.

"Speaking of dust, our sources report a hell of a nasty storm brewing north of here close to Dallas. You heading through there? Then you'd better take cover as fast as you can. This one's a doozy. By the way, I'd suggest a nice handkerchief over your sweet nose, so you don't blow mud instead of snot when you decide to raise your pretty little head up to check when the coast is clear.

"All right, Prairie Dogs, it's that time... the sun's going down and that means I'd better go get some sleep. You try being on the radio for eight hours and see how you feel. Bonne nuit, and sleep tight through that storm. Here's the last of today's Hank Williams songs, just to let you know I'll miss you so. Night, y'all."

Brigitte slapped a few buttons on the mixing board and stuck the needle on the record, then switched her voice channel off. She pulled her headphones off of her ears and shook her long brown hair behind her. "Phew!" she exclaimed, looking to the man who entered the room. "It's hot in here today."

"It's always hot," Pete said back. "And you know what I've told you about calling everyone 'prairie dogs.'"

Brigitte smiled back sweetly, wiping the sweat off of her brow and opening the wooden shutters to the cooler night air. The stone building was usually nice and cool during the warmest of months, which was a tremendous asset for the hot radio equipment, but today it just didn't work out that way. "But we're on the prairie."

"Prairies have grass," Pete pointed out. The older man pulled a few jazz records and lined up his notes. "See any grass anywhere?"

"I see plenty of grass come through the bar at night," she volleyed back happily, "and it's pretty damn good grass, if you ask me," she added with a wink.

Pete rolled his eyes and finally cracked a smile. "Just don't tell Bonita."

"Don't tell Bonita what?"

The two whirled around to see the founder of Aegis standing in the doorway, her faded white blouse contrasting sharply against her jet-black hair, which had never bothered to gray as she grew older. Her olive skin was still in enviable condition for having lived in the desert her entire life, and her brown eyes smiled in the corners.

"Don't tell Bonita that you've been playing even more Hank Williams," Pete said smoothly, not skipping a beat.

Bonita shook her head and laughed. "As a little girl I used to love hearing his sad old voice," she said fondly, "and now you've played him so much that I'd love to marry him just so I can divorce him and break his brittle heart." Brigitte laughed. "Got a moment, sweetheart?"

Brigitte nodded brightly. "Anything for you," she said, starting out the door with the elderly woman. She high-fived Pete on the way out. "This time tomorrow, Old Man?"

"You got it, Pipsqueak," Pete answered, using the name that he hadn't let go of when he'd first come across her years ago, when he was just in his 20's.

The two descended the staircase and started out toward the courtyard. A few workers were taking steps to cover the blue reflective pool with a circular length of strung rubber, stuck down to make contact with the stone around it to seal out any possibility of sandy contamination.

The two sat on a bench. The sun was starting fast on its downward trajectory into nighttime. "Freya is getting a little tired of the morning routine," Bonita said. "Would you consider bumping your schedule so that you're working the two-to-ten?"

Brigitte shrugged. "I dunno," she answered simply. "I like my shift. But I'd love Pete's shift."

"Pete's been on the horn so long he can do it in his sleep," Bonita said. "In case anything happens at night, he's got all those emergency procedures down pat."

"I know, but so does Freya, and you're not letting me take his spot."

"Why do you want his spot so badly?" Bonita asked.

Brigitte paused. "Because it's not so hot outside and I can play whatever music I want and no one will get mad at me."

Bonita laughed. "Well, at least you're being honest," she said. "All kidding aside, I think you belong on the air. You're very good."

"Thanks!" Her cheeks reddened just slightly.

"And you go into the tavern each night to learn about what everyone's saying. That's pretty great." Brigitte continued to smile and listen. "I think you're due for a trip outside sometime."

Brigitte's face fell and turned white. "I... I... Bonita, I... I can't do that, you know that, I can't go out there," she sputtered quickly, her mood flipping instantly.

Bonita smiled and placed a soothing hand on her arm. "Darling girl, I remember when you were first brought out here 17 years ago," she said quietly. "You were so tough you put me to shame. And look at where you are now."

Brigitte's brown eyes looked woefully at Bonita's own brown eyes. "It's taken a long time to get here. Pete was, what, younger than I am now when I tried to stab him that one time. I never thought he'd forgive me for that. I'm shocked you guys didn't get rid of me."

"Hush," Bonita corrected gently, "you were just a little girl who needed a little help. But you're not a little girl anymore. You need to get out. Go see the desert you talk about every single day. Meet someone and start a family."

Brigitte laughed, the color returning to her face. "Bonita, every night I go into that tavern and I've never met a single person who I can afford to take seriously."

"That's because you're meeting travelers who aren't looking for permanence, dear," Bonita reminded her.

"So, what then, am I going to make off with an Enclave officer or a Knight of the Brotherhood?" Brigitta asked slyly. Bonita stared back quietly. "I'm sorry, but I know you wouldn't like that."

Bonita nodded. "No, I don't like that," she affirmed. "But when you do eventually go Outside, you're going to have to steer clear of those types."

Brigitte nodded. "I will." She looked down at her feet, and looked back at Bonita. "You've never, ever said to me before that I need to go settle down. There are lots of women here who've worked with you for years who haven't settled down. Obviously you never gave them that talk. But... why are you giving me that talk?"

Bonita stood and clasped her hands in front of her. "Because you're the closest thing I have to a daughter, and I think you should be happy." She leaned forward and kissed Brigitte on the top of her head. "You've got a card game calling you, and I've got a dinner with a few visitors. Let's talk in the morning about what you learn tonight."

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Brigitte stunned in the courtyard. Bonita had a sense of humor most of the time but was always hard-edged. Never before had she gotten this kind of a talk from the old woman who knew more about how to operate a machine gun over how to cook.

She sighed and made her way to the common area, known fondly as the compound's tavern. Curfew was due to settle in soon, and it was always fun to see which new visitors were the most interesting.

The setting changes from aegis to Texas, USA

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Character Portrait: Brigitte Thibodeaux

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(Posted in the wrong location!)

The setting changes from texas-usa to Aegis

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Character Portrait: Brigitte Thibodeaux

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Brigitte Thibodeaux



"Let me get this straight. You've never left this place?" the tired man with the sunburned face asked Brigitte after shoving a small stack of chips into the center of the table.

"No, I didn't say that," Brigitte answered brightly as she called his hand and shoved the equivalent amount of chips beside his. Her thick Southern accent made her even more approachable. "I came here when I was 11. Pretty sure that this was the first real building I'd ever been inside, too," she added somewhat proudly.

The masked woman at the table breathed audibly behind her respirator. "But surely you've left since you got here," she posited, her voice somewhat distorted and muffled as she called with her own chips.

"Only a few times," Brigitte said thoughtfully, desperately hoping that her two aces would win the round, considering that the other two lay in the middle of the table. "But the outside isn't for me, I guess."

The other man at the table, wearing a massive cowboy hat and a pair of vintage-style spurs on his boots, shrugged passive-aggressively as he placed his own two cards face-down. "So, Miss Celebrity Radio, what qualifies you to talk about any of this stuff if you've never survived the wasteland like we have?"

The four-person game went quiet very suddenly, the other two travelers bracing for a sharp exchange of words.

Brigitte didn't seem bothered by the somewhat antagonistic comment. "Because I talk to lovely people like anyone and everyone who comes through here and wants to share information about what's out there," she said, her voice unfazed. "Every night there's inevitably someone who comes in and wants to talk about what they saw or heard, because they heard us talk about something someone else saw and heard, and so on and so on. It helps everyone out there. How did you hear about us?"

"Someone in the group stayed here before," Cowboy Hat responded gruffly.

"Yeah, but did you listen to the broadcast on your way in?" she asked sweetly, with a broad smile.

The man permitted just a small pause and a tiny open-mouthed smile, then closed his mouth. "Cards over," he barked, completely unaccustomed to women with friendly attitudes.

Four aces, with no straight or royal flushes provided by the others. She smiled and collected the chips; Sunburn slapped his hand on the table in frustration, and Respirator offered a small laugh.

"I'm done with this round," Cowboy Hat said, then looked at Brigitte. "Buy you a drink, Miss?" He snapped his fingers and called out to the bartender to bring two glasses of "their finest whiskey."

The other two rolled their eyes at their companion and left the table as the dealer collected the cards and gave a knowing look to Brigitte, who responded with her own expression, then left the two at the table. The two drinks appeared within seconds. Cowboy Hat offered his glass to clink with Brigitte's, then took an enthusiastic sip of the amber-colored liquid.

"What's the real reason you stay here?" he asked. "Pretty thing like you can't be locked up here. That's no life."

Brigitte put down her glass after a tepid sip. She knew better than to get drunk after curfew in the tavern, especially around men with poor intentions as far as women were concerned. She sighed and crossed her legs under the table, folding her hands in her lap and tilting her head. "Well," she pitched, "I'd much rather be in here than out there."

The man pulled down the rest of his glass and gestured toward the bar for another. "That's no real reason," he said. His straight-jawed, stubbled face was handsome and angular, but Brigitte simply had zero interest in creating a scandalous reputation amongst her own Aegis family or other travelers, much less cozying up at night to someone who potentially embodied more "crazy" than should be tolerated. Some people were far too brave for their own good. "What got you here, anyway? You never said why you came here." Brigitte watched as the second drink was placed in front of him. She'd barely taken her second sip of whiskey before he downed the second glass and stared ahead at her as she maintained her silence. "Well?" he asked after several seconds.

Brigitte looked down to her hands and then back up. She flipped one section of her long, thick brown hair back over her shoulder and pointed to a long, jagged scar cascading from behind her ear down through her shoulder. "See this?" she said quietly. "This is why I don't want to leave." Cowboy Hat blinked as he stared at the terrifying-looking mark. Brigitte then flipped her hair back over her ear and nodded. "Does that answer your question?"

A third drink appeared before the man, and it went down as quickly as it had shown up.

"You're going to drain our whiskey reserves," she observed flatly, suddenly becoming very nervous about the pace at which he'd consumed his drinks.

"I have a feeling that everything will be just fine," he responded with a wink, "and I just want to tell you that, well, you wouldn't have to worry about a thing out there if you ever went outside the walls with me."

Brigitte then felt a hand touch the inside of her right knee. Instantly she reached her small hand down and grasped his pinky finger and held on tight, twisting it just a few degrees. His eyes bulged and he let out a yelp of surprise, feeling his tendons stretch taut, painfully. The music stopped and it felt like all the patrons' eyes were on them as Brigitte slowly wound his hand from below the table to above, still gripping his finger with all of her determination.

"I don't need your help, Sir," she said with the utmost calm. "But I will have to ask you to keep your hands to yourself and away from me, or any other woman in this establishment."

She let his hand go, and he pulled it immediately to his chest, his eyes full of shock and wincing with pain as he rubbed the tendons of his hand. He got up, looking around him with a burgundy face, and slumped out of the tavern, likely heading back to his assigned guest quarters.

After he left, the music resumed and all guests returned to their conversations or card games. The dealer from the game earlier approached her with large eyes. "Brigitte," she remarked quietly, "I didn't know you knew how to do that."

Brigitte shrugged, still somewhat surprised with herself. "I didn't know, either," she answered with bemusement, cracking a slight smile. "But I'd rather answer to an angry Bonita or Sherman than I would let some tar-chewing bastard put his hands on me."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Brigitte Thibodeaux Character Portrait: Turquine "Lyki" Jervis

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#, as written by Xavirne
Time seemed to get lost in Aegis. The morning melted into the afternoon and night was nothing more than the pause between 10 and 11AM. Rolling his shoulders, he slowly moved from the residential area to a place a bit more alive and spunky. Sadly, it didn't seem like much was going on in the park. In fact, it was plainly quiet today. With nothing more than a simple sigh, the man by the name of Lyki slumped off toward the bar. There was nothing better to do than drink, right? His hand moved down to his stomach. God, the thought of drinking was already causing him to cramp up. Perhaps he would get some radiated water? His stomach growled in a happy tone. Of course it would be pleased with something toxic. It was always joyous with toxic treats.

His hands found their way to the door and gracefully pushed it open. Slipping across the floor, he walked with a zombie-like gesture to the bar. His hands flagged a nearby bartender.

It should have bothered him that the waiter new what he wanted. It should have, but it didn't. Lyki actually found comfort in the action. Why? Well, he had been in Aegis for about a month now. Had he overstayed? Of course, but why wouldn't he? Lyki had nowhere else to go. He was a loner and he had no destination in mind. He traveled with the wind and slumped from here to there. He wasn't what people would call fast -- or at least he sure didn't act that way. A small smile tugged at his lips. If only they knew, he mused to himself before the water arrived before him.

"Thanks," he raised the glass up and gave a head nod.

"No problem. At least someone drinks that stuff. Can't understand why, though." The bartender was right to question him. Who in their right mind opted for radiated water over gin, whiskey, or beer?

There was a light laugh. "I like the way it bites at my tongue. It makes me feel alive." He swirled the contents of his glass around and around until he give it another long sip. "It reminds me of what's really happening. Sometimes I forget that life isn't as peachy as it appears. This poison? It helps me remember. It makes me connect to the land and understand what's happening."

The next thing he knew, the bar was silent but then the sound of pain and shock came next. Without much desire to really see what was happening, Lyki casually whirled around and let his eyes fall on the tail-end of the fight between Brigitte and the man she called Cowboy Hat. Brows furrowing, he wondered just what he missed. He wouldn't ask to be caught up, but it was definitely something he wanted to know about.

With a sigh, he turned back to the bartender who seemed to be preparing another glass of water. "Thanks," he said in his usual raspy tone. A hoarse cough followed. Rising, he gingerly crept from his spot to the spot beside the young miss who seemed to be causing quite a bit of entertainment. Clearing his throat, Lyki coughed again. "Aegis growing too old for you?" There was another deep cough before his eyes raised slowly to meet hers.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Brigitte Thibodeaux Character Portrait: Turquine "Lyki" Jervis

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Brigitte whirled out of a brief moment of contemplation after the dealer had left, and turned to see the tall, spindly masked man who had been residing at Aegis for weeks. Turquine Jervis, according to the guest log. He hadn't said much of anything to anybody during his time, not even to the gregarious Brigitte, preferring to wander the grounds. The staff surmised that he certainly was no threat, that when he did speak that he was fairly gentle and kind despite the creaky voice. At least, that's the way he was with those who approached him with the same attitude. The six cyan circles, divided symmetrically into three on either side of his forehead, were bewildering and fascinating.

She allowed herself a small smile and took a sip of her own whiskey, which she'd hardly touched during the brief altercation. She smoothed her thick hair behind her shoulders and shook her head. "Aegis looks better and better every day that I have the privilege to wake up within these walls," she said brightly. "And I've been waking up here for 17 years, now." She took another sip of her whiskey and felt her arms and shoulders warm pleasantly. This whiskey sure was good. "What about you? You've been here for weeks, Mr. Jervis. Is Aegis growing too old for you? How are you liking your stay here?"

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Character Portrait: Brigitte Thibodeaux Character Portrait: Turquine "Lyki" Jervis

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#, as written by Xavirne
She was the short kind of cute. Easily at least one-foot shorter than he, Lyki was imagining how simple it would be to overthrow her petite frame. Sure, she gave Cowboy Hat quite the shocker, but she looked like a one trick pony. Besides, she was more human than he. How could she surpass him and his ghoulish ways? Perhaps a shotty to the head? The thought made Lyki smirk beneath his mask. It was always interesting to see how humans reacted when staring at a gruesome ghoul.

In all honesty, Lyki was surprised he was still allowed in Aegis. Had his identity not been discovered? Were there no curious folks who dared spy what laid beneath his mask at night? No, of course not. This was Aegis. Dear fair Aegis. There was nothing cruel, mean, or worrisome about this place. It was just there, like a bump on a log. It would never have the greatness of Dallas or the fame (read: infamy) of White Sanitarium. It merely existed and was nothing overly memorable. And yet, despite being nothing, he stayed.

As her question passed through his ears, Lyki raised a hand to her. "Mr. Jervis was my father. I prefer to go by Lyki." Such an odd name for a strange man, and the fact that it sounded like Lie-Key didn't help. Why would anyone take on a nickname with the word lie in it? And why key? Nicknames are often earned, so the truth behind his name probably laid with someone else. What Brigitte didn't know was that the other person had a bullet through his brain. Not once, either, but twice. Funny thing those ghouls are. How they can rise again and, only when killed a second time, can they truly die.

"As one who has wandered outside these," he wheezed before coughing, "I can assure you that this place is nothing special. It holds no magic and yet it does all the same. It's a citadel for those who find refuge here. Still," the eyes behind the mask shifted to her. They studied her. She seemed... different than the rest. "nothing is ever safe in mist of war." Lyki snorted before he was overcome by a fit of coughs. It took him a few seconds to suppress it, but he finally managed to get the phlegm down. "Miss Radio Voice, I'm thirty-four and I sound like I'm dying. Everything is too old for me. As much as I enjoy Aegis, I don't intend on dying here. I would rather die with a bit of meaning and merit to my life than wither away as... just another Aegis resident."

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Character Portrait: Brigitte Thibodeaux Character Portrait: Turquine "Lyki" Jervis

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Brigitte listened to the wiry, scratchy-voiced ghoulish man splay his thoughts about the facility, taking care to not be offended. She loved Aegis and felt intensely loyal to everyone who worked within its walls. Often times she'd remind herself that not everyone felt the same way--and that was not something to despair over. Many people had their own opinions about Aegis, depending on the kind of experience they'd had within the walls. Troublemakers who drew their weapons protested against the rules. Gamblers who desired to cheat others out of their money were shunned from tables and harbored their own resentment. Lyki didn't sound like he fit into any of those categories, and no poor behavior had been reported about him amongst the staff. There was something else there.

She took a breath and decided to remain positive. His voice sounded as though it were full of pain and resignation, as though the last thing he needed were anyone to rebuke him over his own opinions. She handed him a napkin and took another sip of whiskey. "We all have an idea of where we belong, don't we?" she pondered aloud. "I certainly wouldn't want to consider dying here or any place that I have no love for." She cast a quick glance to the bartender and gently bobbed her head toward Lyki, then turned back to him, looking him confidently in the eye. "You've been here for a very long time... longer than most travelers who come through here. Something keeps you here." One of the barhops gently placed another glass of radiated water in front of Lyki. Brigitte smiled. "Why don't you tell me what brought you here?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Brigitte Thibodeaux Character Portrait: Turquine "Lyki" Jervis

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#, as written by Xavirne
Lyki looked up at the woman before him. With the mask on his face, she couldn't see that he was trying to smile at her, though it was probably for the better. Mutations have a funny way of making you look rather ugly when you least expect it. And to think, prior to all this hell, Turquine was quite the hands- no, he was never that handsome. Sure, his body rippled with muscles and he was a lean and fit as a soccer player. Yes, Lyki's eyes were truly mesmerizing, but that voice of his ways never something to be fond of. People would cringe at his ghastly tones and simply turn back in fear. And, of course, the large cuts on his face were another reason to send people back out the door they just entered.

With a sigh, Lyki wondered why he was cursed with such ill-fate. His face, thought it could have been handsome, was riddle with scars caused by knives, wires, and whatever else that meshed into his skin and tore away his youthful beauty.

The moment he realized his sigh might be misunderstood, his head snapped back toward Brigitte. "That we do. But do you really think Aegis is where you want to spend your entire life?" He hand now propped up his head. "I've been a great many places. Aegis is nice. But is it really the first, last, and only place you want your eyes to see?"

"I have been here about a month now, gathering up my strength and relearning how to... how do you say it... move. I'm not as limber as you, my dear. Far older and been through far worse things. Why else would I wear a mask? I'm simply not pretty enough for this world. And yet, I have learned much about Aegis. Why," his coughing took over for a moment and he kindly sipped on the water she presented to him. "Why I do believe Aegis is the calm before the storm. It's too peaceful here to be true, especially in this war-torn era we are now trying to live through."

Lyki found himself smiling beneath the mask again. "Reason I stay?" He was really warming up to the girl, hence his chatty nature. "Because I don't want to go back out there... alone."

Setting

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Character Portrait: Brigitte Thibodeaux Character Portrait: Turquine "Lyki" Jervis

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Brigitte nodded, listening intently to Lyki's every word. What a fascinating visitor. It wasn't often that guests were so interesting; most of them had the same old story, just with different names and different places substituted throughout their own narrative. They were not often very philoshophical or introspective, swirling multiple nodes of thought worth considering long after the conversation was over. Very rarely would someone with those qualities come through Aegis, much less go to the tavern to talk.

Lyki was one of those guests.

"I can see myself staying here," Brigitte drawled, glancing down at her glass as she swirled the whiskey along the inner rim. "I don't remember what it's like out there. I arrived here when I was 11... but all that is gone. Besides," she added, looking up and grinning broadly, "I love being at home!"

She took a sip of the whiskey, letting its smokey tones waft up into her nose. Gerryn was tending the bar tonight, and must have come across an incredible batch this week. "I sure hope you're wrong about that war bit, my friend. Believe me, this facility can withstand a lot." The very idea of the situation at Aegis spiraling into destruction was a little terrifying to her.

Brigitte looked down again at the table and shrugged her shoulders. "And that pretty stuff? Not pretty enough for the world, you said?" she asked, sipping again from her glass, "the world sure has a weird idea of 'pretty.' My experience is that it's not what's on the outside that counts. It's not what things look like that counts. It was things are that counts." She reached a hand behind her ear to coverly pat her scar, to reassure her that she did, in fact, possess true wisdom about the subject.

The setting changes from aegis to Texas, USA

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Brigitte Thibodeaux Character Portrait: Turquine "Lyki" Jervis

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(Ack!)

The setting changes from texas-usa to Aegis

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Brigitte Thibodeaux Character Portrait: Turquine "Lyki" Jervis

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Brigitte looked up at the clock. 1 a.m., already. She socked back the rest of her whiskey, and placed a small hand on Lyki's knobby shoulder. "It's past my bedtime," she said politely. She smiled sweetly to him, and then pulled her hands by her side. "Hopefully we'll see each other tomorrow."

She turned around on her boots and stepped her way out of the tavern. She was greeted by a billow of wind, far less grittier than the wind that had swept over Aegis a few hours ago. The sandstorm headed toward Dallas must have been a strong one. She pulled her wrap close about her face, dropped her goggles around her eyes, and trudged forward into the town center, toward the Aegis staff apartments.

She pulled the door to her own unit open from the outside entrance, then shut it quickly to keep the sand from encroaching on the floor. She peeled her wrap off and placed it in a plastic bucket to collect any gathered dust, then pulled off her boots before locking the door.

As one of the Comms supervisors, her quarters were pretty nice, as far as they went. One large parlor with a kitchenette connected to a small bedroom. Most staff had a large room with a sleeping nook. She'd never slept very well in those things, anyway. Bonita, of course, had the best set-up—the entire top floor of this building, bedecked with fine art and even a sort of air conditioning. Sometimes Brigitte would go visit the old woman for long stretches of time, sitting through her occasional prattling rant but so enjoying the cool air on her face.

Brigitte paced into her bedroom to strip down to her underwear as she turned on the bath. The desert had a way of making you absolutely filthy from head to toe in just a matter of seconds. As she let the large stone tub fill with warm water, she looked out of the high window with the clear stain, up toward the ceiling. The clouds had begun to settle and the stars were coming out.

Storms of that size always brought news. Something worth talking about, worth crafting into a warning for cautious travelers tuning in.

Brigitte wondered what tomorrow would bring.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Brigitte Thibodeaux Character Portrait: Turquine "Lyki" Jervis

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#, as written by Xavirne
Naive. That was the world that described the woman before him. Optimistic, too. It was a shame she couldn't see how she was blinding herself with her innocent, childish words. To think that she could stay her forever almost made him laugh. Almost, but he did hold it back so that he didn't insult her. When she spoke again about the heart of someone not being based on beauty, but resolution, Lyki could only laugh internally. This woman was so deprived of the truth. If only she knew what truly laid in her wake. Still, he refused to burst her bubble. He didn't want to cloud her eyes and let them fade. If she were lucky, she would die a quick death.

For some odd reason, his mind raced to great rolling clouds that moved down a massive, erupting mountain. Pompeii, a story he'd heard about though he wasn't sure why, became the vision he had for Brigitte's death. She body preserved in the ghostly white ash from the eruption. Her innocence still in-tact and her heart never knowing the truth about man, about war.

How long had he been silently starting at her? He didn't know, but she seemed to pick up on the time and was sweeping away from him. Had he not been so stunned by it all, he might have waved. Instead, Lyki just blinked after the girl.

Gray skies roll down and put you to eternal rest. It was the dream he wanted to make a reality. He didn't know why, but Lyki felt compelled to watch over this girl. Too bad he didn't understand why. Knocking on his noggin, he hoped a memory would surface. Nothing came, but a small, childish laugh. It caused him to sit upright and question his past. Why was there a girl's giggle embedded in his mind.

Numbness washed over him like great waved brought on by a tsunami. Was it possible? Had Lyki, prior to losing his mind, been a... a father?

Even though Brigitte was long gone, Lyki's hollow eyes moved to where she once sat. Why was she suddenly of interest to him? Why was how she died worthy of playing out and, worse, making sure it was as peaceful as she needed?

Am I sick, he questioned. He rasped and give his limber body a quick pat down. No, he seemed fine. Raising his gaze to meet the door she left through, he let his dull eyes linger there. "We will meet again," he spoke aloud, mainly to himself.

Lyki then spent the rest of the night at the bar until closing time, which wasn't much later. He then trudged outside and into his little abode. He would spend his night awake and staring at the ceiling, mulling over all the information and feelings that had surfaced.

"I must be mad," he finally whispered before his eyes finally gave into the weight.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Brigitte Thibodeaux

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The booming noises. Was it something that she'd imagined? Either way, the night was cold and the desert look like it was dark green.

Brigitte's head hurt badly; she remembered a masked man (or was it a woman?), with blackened eyes and a gaping mouth, swinging the sharp hook down at her head. How it felt like burning when the razor-sharp edge caught behind her ear and nearly sliced her shoulder away from her arm. She allowed herself to fly several feet and crash her face into the hot dirt, lying as still as she possibly could. She breathed shallow and kept her eyes floating shut, relaxing as she bled into the dirt. A sharp booted toe scraped her back after most of the commotion settled. They were content that she was dead, from how heavily her body fell back into place. The noise stopped entirely about an hour later. Her eyes closed about two hours later.

When she opened her eyes next, she was laying in the back of a covered flatbed, her head resting in someone's lap. The dark indigo-purple skirt was soaked in the blood swishing from the back of her head. A woman with jet-black hair and frantic eyes looked down at her and spoke soundlessly. Brigitte's ears were full of noise, like a rushing river. The woman even stroked her brown hair, splayed down her back, long and straight.

Part of the rushing sound died after the engine was turned off. The woman tearfully handed the small girl to a young man with long arms. He called her
"Bonita." She called him "Pete." Brigitte's arms fell like heavy sandbags below her body.

The garage fell silent as the gathered staff watched Bonita panic. Pete pulled the girl from her arms and rushed her through several doors into a stark-white room. Brigitte could feel her stomach twist her body as she lay on the table. A sharp burn flew from her ears down to the middle of her back and she passed out again.

# # #

Brigitte snapped up, letting out an unsettled yell. The wind was howling outside again, and rattled a loose latch on her bedroom window. Some sand was even starting to sift in through the crack. She got up and hurried over with a bucket and a rag, her light blue crepe nightgown flying behind her. She bolted the window shut again and knelt down to scoop the sand into the bucket. She rubbed her hands together and resolved to sweep more of the mess in just a few hours.

She sighed, dragging her forearm across her eyebrow as she stood, trying to find the coolest spot in the apartment. shutting all the windows meant shutting in the heat during this time of year. She set herself down in the light armchair not far from the door to the outer room, staring at the clock. 3:30 a.m. Curfew hadn't even lifted yet.

It had been a long time since she dreamed about that day, so many years ago. She had forgotten that Bonita had reacted so emotionally to the incident; maybe that explained her behavior from earlier. And Pete was there, too. Come to think of it, Pete was always there.

Her heart filled with gratitude at the thought of it all. She was a sucker for accounting for things that were worth feeling grateful for. But at the moment she also rebuked herself for being so tough on Bonita, even going so far as to joke about the KoB and the Enclave. If she Brigitte had been someone else who said that to Bonita, the old woman would have had their hide. But not Brigitte.

She decided suddenly that going back to bed would be better than sitting out in the distracting living room. She walked back to her bed and flipped her pillow over. It was just a dream. Nothing to worry about. She kept repeating it to herself as she slowly drifted back off.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Brigitte Thibodeaux Character Portrait: Roland Brave Character Portrait: Bonita Abbott

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The door pounded loudly. Brigitte turned over in bed again, dragging her pillow over her head in the desperate hope that whatever it was wasn't important enough to actually get out of bed for... to no avail. The door pounded yet again.

She propped herself up and squeezed her eyes shut as she yawned, stretching her arms above her head. She stepped up and quickly pulled herself out of bed, and slowly paced barefoot from her bedroom through the outer room and to her door. She twisted the knob open and peeked her head out so that whatever guest it was wouldn't see her sleeping attire. On the other side stood Bonita. Brigitte stood up a little straighter. "Oh... good morning, I'm sorry about that," she said after coughing a little.

"Don't worry," Bonita said quickly, "it's about 7. Way early for you. But we need your help. That sandstorm last night sure was a doozy."

Brigitte nodded. "Sure was," she managed through a misty-eyed yawn. "It opened my window and everything."

"Well, it also knocked down one of our solar panels," Bonita continued. "People coming in today after the storm say they've never heard Peter have to shout to be heard over the background noise."

Brigitte balked. "Seriously? That sucks," she said quietly, looking down at the ground. She looked back up to the older woman and tilted her head. "What can I do to help?"

"Get dressed and we'll talk about it," Bonita instructed as she backed away from the door. "Peter's still on the air. Freya's already down there. She's in better shape to help than he is. We're just letting him continue talking." She walked off and left Brigitte to shut the door behind her as she went to pull on a pair of dark all-weather pants and a pair of leather boots, her blue lightweight long-sleeved shirt, and her utility belt. She pulled her hair behind her and crudely braided it into a long, thick plait, then looped her goggles around her eyes before finally stepping out the door and pulling it shut behind her, then coasted through the stone hallway and out into the early morning sunshine.

The courtyard was trashed. A few of the staff were out with heavy pushbrooms trying to clear the walkways of the high level of sand that had swirled into the pseudo-square in the middle of the facility's grounds. The tall radio tower didn't look worse for wear on the outside, but she knew that whatever damage it had done to their sensitive instruments was going to be the impact felt for miles and miles around. They'd have to send a group out to Austin, likely, in order to replace any broken parts. And Austin was a terribly partisan place. There was no way of knowing if they'd be receptive to Aegis folk trying to improve their lot in life in any fashion whatsoever.

"Brigitte!" Bonita called out. Her brown eyes snapped up in her direction--there they were, on the roof of the massive stone structure. "Climb up!"

Brigitte frowned as she looked at the indicated ladder splaying up the side of the tall wall, but grabbed the sides anyway and forced herself to step up, one rung at a time. She hated heights. It wasn't uncommon for her to visualize herself losing her footing from a higher unsecured surface... she never could get around to imagining the end of a fall, but the prospect of the fall itself was daunting and terrifying. Even so, she refused to let it dampen her concentration. She stepped on the top of the roof and spotted the downed panel, its frame twisted but mercifully not destroying the darker material encased inside. Bonita, Freya, and a few of the others gathered turned around to face Brigitte.

"You need to ask the Nightkin to come help us," Bonita stated plainly, looking the younger woman directly in the eyes.

Brigitte blinked. "Oh," she said, the awkward air twisting the end of her sentence into a higher-pitched, pseudo-question tone. "But why me?"

Freya shook her head. "Brig, everyone likes you," the tall blonde woman responded. "I'm sure if you ask the Nightkin that he'll be sure to help us."

"But he's already helping us," Brigitte pointed out, putting her gloved hands on her hips. She lifted her goggles up to rest on top of her forehead. Her brown eyes squinted and blinked against the early morning sun. "I don't think we should make it look like we wish to abuse his assistance."

"Brigitte, please," Bonita said softly, invoking a tone that made it hard for Brigitte to ignore those instructions.

The wiry brunette sighed, and reached her hands up to yank and stick the goggles back securely over her eyes. She turned around and felt her stomach twist a little as she descended back down the ladder. After reaching the ground, she shook off her shaky nerves as she made her way to the spot where by far the most formidable guest in Aegis had opted to stay.

She walked cautiously, deciding to keep the goggles over her eyes for the time being. She finally stopped and stood not far from the shelter, folding her arms in front of her. She looked down at her feet and then decided to let her arms fall by her side, as to appear less frustrated or conflicted. It was never easy to decide how to use body language in order to be taken seriously when one lacks the height to be automatically taken seriously.

"Good morning," Brigitte called out calmly. Not in a high-pitched voice, but not in a stern, detached voice, either. "I'd like to ask you for your help this morning, Mr. Brave. My name's Brigitte."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Brigitte Thibodeaux Character Portrait: Roland Brave

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The heat of the Flamer felt as welcome to Roland as a mother's warm embrace, the banging of metal her song. The main working crew pulled the lose metal panels from the wall and passed them to Roland and his temporary assistant, a human by the name of Burt. Burt ground away the rust that had weakened the metal enough to fell the wall as Roland reinforced those areas by welding what scrap tin he was given and then punching a hole for a nut and bolt with a hammer and thick carbon-steel nail. The new panels were then taken back to the wall and re-fixed to the posts that held the wall in place, 'making good' by making minor adjustments when needed. What poles that had faced a similar fate were given a similar treatment; ripped from the ground by Nightkin strength, reinforced by Roland's skill, bent back into shape by either his hammer or bare hands, and then thrust back into the ground and firmed by the working crew with shovels and new cement if needed.

The small voice, a nervous note somewhere within the words, caught Roland off guard between sending a refurbished panel to the working crew and waiting for a ground panel from Burt. Moving the smoked lensed goggles from his eyes, protective equipment readjusted with new strapping to afford for his Nightkin ergonomics, he looked in her direction and motioned for Burt to cease his grinding.

"Say again, young miss?" The ever-present throaty growl of a Nightkin's weak voice box perverted his syllables. His mutation, focused around stealth, made it difficult for his breed to speak out loud and caused every sound uttered to be a grinding rumble. During the war, it had been a blessing. After decades, it proved to be a nuisance among human company when he worked alongside them.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Brigitte Thibodeaux Character Portrait: Roland Brave

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Brigitte nodded and cleared her throat, pulling her own goggles away from her face. In the sun, the area around her eyes was far lighter than the parts of her face that weren't covered by the protective eyewear, and it had already been a dusty day even by normal standards. "Certainly," she politely responded. "Mr. Brave, our Comms station seems to have lost the integrity of one of its solar panels during last night's storm. We're wondering if we may request your assistance." She folded her hands in front of her hips calmly, looking for a way to not let her hands betray her anxiety.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Brigitte Thibodeaux Character Portrait: Roland Brave

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"We're wondering if we may request your assistance." Roland simply stared for a moment, looking past Brigitte and towards the radio tower further in town. The radio messages had been what brought him to Aegis, to Bonita's refreshing, if hesitant, acceptance of his appearance in return for his skills. 'A pity, my steel siren.' Scratching his chin and refocusing on Brigitte, Roland pointed a thumb at the work crew behind him.

"Bonita already has me on a job. Did she sign off on this or is she going to be waiting here when I get back to put a boot in my ass?" Burt and the others laughed, the mental image of their elderly leader going toe to toe with Roland's hulking form. It made Roland feel better; the entire crew had been nervous around him for the past few days since he had been assigned to work with them in exchange for sanctuary. 'About time I finally broke the ice.'

"Of course... a nervous fawn like you isn't going to bother asking me for help unless Bonita's the one who put you up to it in the first place, right?" Roland looked to Burt who nodded in agreement. He had been around much longer and knew the politics of the town better than Roland possibly could. With a shrug of the shoulders the Nightkin stood in that slightly hunched way of a Super Mutant and walked towards the radio tower.

"Don't touch the dials on the Flamer," he yelled back to the crew. "You might explode."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Brigitte Thibodeaux Character Portrait: Roland Brave Character Portrait: Bonita Abbott

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Brigitte permitted herself to smile a wide, gracious smile, and visibly relaxed her body language after the hulking guest offered his own version of a friendly response. "You're right," she laughed back. "Bonita's not one to have her good resources wasted. Which is why she sent me to come get you. And she apologizes for any inconvenience that this favor may offer."

She pulled her small hand-held radio off of her belt after it blipped. She flicked a red switch and allowed Bonita's voice to resonate from the unit. "I guess it depends on what pair of boots I'd decide to wear, Mr. Brave," the woman said dryly. "Better pray I'd not use the snakeskin ones. But that's not what we're talking about, here. Ms. Thibodeaux would love to escort you on your way up here. Can you climb a ladder?"

Brigitte looked at Roland and shrugged, shutting her eyes and tilting her head at Bonita's unique manner.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Brigitte Thibodeaux Character Portrait: Roland Brave Character Portrait: Bonita Abbott

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"I guess it depends on what pair of boots I'd decide to wear, Mr. Brave." Bonita's voice coming through the small device put a guilty look on Roland's face, almost like that of a child caught in it's elaborate lie. 'Well shit.'

"Can you climb a ladder?" Roland laughed in his throat, memories of ruined constructs failing to take his massive weight returning to him.

"A ladder? Hmm...." Roland stopped for a moment, pursing his lips in thought. "Young miss," he spoke to the radio, "I'm almost eight feet tall and damn near eight-hundred pounds. My foot is wider than most humans' heads. I'd worry more about the ladder myself, but I can try." He shrugged, looking at Brigitte in a 'what can I do about it?' kind of way.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Brigitte Thibodeaux Character Portrait: Roland Brave Character Portrait: Bonita Abbott

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Bonita didn't skip a beat. "That's precisely why I asked," she responded smoothly. "The building is made out of stone. It's very strong. Or, we can arrange to have some of our crew bring it down to you. What's more convenient?" Brigitte kept her mouth shut, simply hoping to help make any kind of arrangement happen.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Brigitte Thibodeaux Character Portrait: Roland Brave Character Portrait: Bonita Abbott

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Roland looked confused for a moment, something finally clicking in his head.

"Pardon," he spoke to both the radio and Brigitte herself, "but I assumed that my help was needed to bring the contraption down to ground level. If you could already do that with another work crew, then would it be foolish to instead assume that your calling upon me to fix the frame itself?" 'Why trust me with something that important when she has other technicians to do the same?' The Nightkin's eyes looked to Brigette, an expression somewhere between worry and confusion on his countenance.

"Just how bad is the damage to the equipment, miss... I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name while Burt was grinding."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Brigitte Thibodeaux Character Portrait: Roland Brave

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"Brigitte Thibodeaux," she volunteered with a restrained but friendly smile. "It's fairly twisted. The energy mechanisms inside the casing look intact; we just need to get the frame back in working order so that nothing becomes contaminated by sand or dust particles."

She gestured toward the talk radio tower. The angle of their view prevented them from seeing the small group of people bustling about up top. She briefly switched off the radio and walked a few paces closer to Roland. "It's in pretty bad shape. Bonita immediately sent me to find you to help. She seems to think you're the best qualified here to do the job."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Brigitte Thibodeaux Character Portrait: Roland Brave

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"It's in pretty bad shape. Bonita immediately sent me to find you to help. She seems to think you're the best qualified here to do the job." With the radio turned off, Roland felt free to speak.

"Maybe, but even then I've only been here for...." Roland counted on his hand, uncurling the thick digits one by one. He had no mind for time, dates, or history, prompting him to instead count the days he had been working on the fence repairs.

"A week." he laughed reservedly. "I wasn't even sure your people were going to let me in when I first arrived and now I'm called in to fix an important piece of equipment." He rubbed his scalp, thinking on Bonita's unexpected behavior. He was silent for a moment before shrugging his shoulders and looking to the radio tower.

"Very well then. If this is a test, I might as well take it. Miss Brigitte, I'll need a workshop with a closing door to keep out the sand and an assistant to help remove the electrics from the casing. If Bonita will oblige, I'll come to the radio tower right away."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Brigitte Thibodeaux Character Portrait: Roland Brave Character Portrait: Bonita Abbott

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Brigitte nodded as she shielded the harsh sun from her eyes. "Certainly," she said quickly. "I'll radio up to the tower."

She again plucked her radio from her belt and switched the dial on. "Can anyone assist in getting the frame and the hardware separated?" she asked. "We'll need to set up the station's multipurpose room for Mr. Brave to make the necessary repairs."

"Roger that," Bonita fizzled in response. "We'll dispatch Randall and Joel. Our crane is on its way and we can bring it down to the ground. How soon?"

"He says he's available right away," Brigitte answered, looking up to make eye contact with the massive Nightkin. "He's very gracious."

"Thank you, Mr. Brave," the old woman immediately volunteered. "We'll work to get you set up right away. See you in five minutes."

Brigitte re-clipped the radio to her belt, and reached her hands around the sides of her goggles to pull her lenses forward and over her large, tired eyes. She turned her dark-goggled gaze back to Roland and pointed her head toward the station. "I can take you there now, if you like," she offered. "We really appreciate it. Please know that. Lots of people depend on us for help if they get into a bad situation out there.:

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Brigitte Thibodeaux Character Portrait: Roland Brave

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"We really appreciate it. Please know that. Lots of people depend on us for help if they get into a bad situation out there."

"Ha, don't I know it." Roland spoke rhetorically, reaching up for the smoked-lens goggles on his head and pulling them over his eyes. Pointing at the head gear he smiled as best he could with strapping holding his lips open.

"Almost stopped listening before I got a tip for making these. Just far to much Hank Williams for my taste." His body folded into a polite bow, one arm extended towards the radio tower with an open hand.

"After you, miss Brigitte."