He was probably going a little crazy.<br/><br/>He had run out of paper, so he moved onto the wall.<br/><br/>It was actually much easier to map out this way.<br/><br/>Simon had managed to destroy what tactful paint had remained on the south facing wall with pens, markers, highlighters, pretty much all pre-war writing tools Fanya had given for him to use. This all was beginning to make sense in a trans-humanist/nihilist sort of way.<br/><br/>He had rumours of this sort of surgery before. Rumours of rumours. Some theory that Vault City back in the day of smaller NCR getting a hold of some similar tech -MAYBE- or that some was found 'somewhere'.<br/><br/>Reminded him of the old pre-war movies. Creepy.<br/><br/>Then came the knocks.<br/><br/>Simon looked over to the door, sipping on his coffee. One of the many secrets he picked up on the road from an odd tribal warrior was how to brew coffee. In the early morning he'd usually sneak away from the building to visit the gardens and stores to get the needed materials for the next week. He was sure his 'boss' knew, but ...<br/><br/>Well, it was a bit established their relationship wasn't one of her usual ones.<br/><br/>He walked over to the door, eyeing it a bit.<br/><br/>"You're not gonna say a damn word, even if I ask who this is, are you?"<br/><br/>He just opened the door with that. He didn't need to get into yet another argument with people.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>