Bunker Hill. It was a great place to expand settlement. The walls were built up, the tower provided security and advanced warnings of anyone who might bring trouble to the settlement. It was known for being the headquarters of caravan trading post. Travelers made frequent stops here to stock up, or to trade in their wasteland finds for a hefty amount of caps. It was a great place to live if you wanted to live rather un-adventurously. And somehow, Simone had found herself here. It wasn’t by choice, but at the time it was the safest place to be. The girl sat in front of a newly opened Tavern with a few rooms upstairs. The owner had just gotten done with spending most of his life scavenging. The man had said something about traveling from a place in the New California Republic—she didn’t believe him though. Simone sat inside the tavern, watching people as they passed happily by. It would soon be dinner time and patrons would find themselves pouring into the Tipsy Tavern for a bite to eat or a place to rest their head for the night. Her gray eyes scanned the area, bored, and tired. That was just it, she was tired of this place and couldn’t stand the lack of adventure. Faces came and went, but none that were interesting enough to catch her interest. Before this place, she could hardly remember what had happened. The last thing she /did/ remember was her father taking off in the middle of the night and leaving her. That’s the last she had seen of him, and that was when she was picked up by a roaming group of slavers. The worst part was that had been ten years ago. The path between now and then felt like a blur. She’d spent most of her time with her head down and keeping quiet, and when they made the mistake of stopping at Bunker Hill for supplies, well, Ryu made them think twice about leaving with her. She wanted her own adventures, her own story to write that wouldn’t be someone elses… And most of all, she wanted a chance to get the heck out of the pre-war crimson dress she was wearing that hugged her curves and got her a few extra looks and caps in the bar. It was working though, and that’s what she needed. Simone had been saving money for the chance that she might be able to get out and make her own plans. With the way the wasteland was, she knew it would be hard to do alone. “It’s no use.” She sighed, picking up a rag from the gray water pail and beginning to clean the bar top with it. A few caravaners began to come in, asking for a drink or food, to which she quickly retrieved them. After bringing out her first round of drinks she grabbed a hair tie, pulling back her long chestnut hair into a messy bun.