@gwinnetts liked for a starter!
The pouch of caps she has on hand is good for a night or two at Hotel Rexford. Maybe three, if she pushes it.
If nothing else, Nat was at school when fuckin’ DC goons started raiding the Publick, so she’ll be safe. Didn’t get enough time to write a ‘hey, I got kicked out of the city again, be a good kid for me’ letter, but Piper supposes that Nat’ll get the message when she comes back to the empty nest. It’s a good thing that Goodneighbor’s close to the Great Green Jewel. Not so entirely good a thing that the Third Rail is the seediest damn place she’s been to. But, alas, she needs something to occupy her time with and not even Daisy had a notepad in stock.
And, as it turns out, stick Piper in a place with relatively cheap booze that doesn’t taste like literal horseshit, and you have a rather friendly (if not obnoxiously nosy) reporter at your fingertips. Or on your nerves. Piper looks towards the sour looking man in a green cap and smiles, “Ain’t there somethin’ off ‘bout Charlie over there? Seems... less like a lad n’ more like a sourpuss.”











