Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20190326124223/@comment-3293219-20190327143230

From a door on the far side of the room entered an elderly woman, also donning a Vault 13 jumpsuit. Her's was heavily armoured, however and had seen a lot more wear and tear over its long history.

Unlike most items of clothing, every seem and stitch probably had a story behind it. Bullet holes, that could've been a result of a battle with the Master and his minions or maybe Frank Horrigan. Like its wearer, this jumpsuit had seen a lot.

Cheyenne stepped into the room and admired it, taking note of how long it had been since she'd seen a command center like this. She hated to admit it but the Enclave's Oil Rig was the closest thing in terms of scale and impressiveness.