Mojave Wasteland, Novac, 2281

Linda was sitting in an old, worn out chair inside the head of the recognizable dinosaur of the motel. Calmly scanning her surroundings with the cracked red lenses of her gas mask's visor. One hand clutching a heavy sniper rifle resting on her lap and the other reaching for a cigarette she was smoking through the vocoder grill (having taken the filters off for emergencias)

"I swear... 'Patrollin' the Mojave almost makes you wish for a nuclear winter' is an fuckin' understatement... 'Em rookies would die 3 hours in this post."

Pulling the sleeve of her coat and checking the watch wrapped around her gaunlet, she sighs. Her duty will end in a few minutes, but even then, she is already dreaming about going back home and pass out on the couch after a bottle of whisky

"Welp... S'pose it's my fault from offerin' myself for guardin' this place. I could be doin' something more... Useful."

She shakes her head and stands up, groaning and cracking her joints slightly

"Oof... That will hurt tomorrow..."

She grunts and starts making her way back to her motel room

"Where the hell IS my Med-X...?"