Annie sat in the waiting room with her hands on her lap. The PIP-Boy on her left arm was itching, and she idly rubbed the skin under its edge with a finger. She hadn't taken the device off for several days now. Annie knew that the people the PIP-boys were intended for had to wear them their entire lives and that the itching would eventually cease, but she felt it wasn't worth it. It probably wouldn't have been so for its original owner either, but as Annie had learned from the unearthed RobCo Industries documents back at the vault, the vault people had had little choise in that matter: Once a PIP-Boy was attached to their arm, they'd be unable to remove it.<br/><br/>The people in the room seemed like a crowd of strangers. True, the faces were familiar to her by now, but that only made her feel even stranger. Annie still had no idea who they were. She tried to look at them, establish eye contact, but she wasn't sure if she even wanted to get to know any of them, especially in this place.<br/><br/>"Excuse me, but why are we here?" she asked when there was a long enough pause in chatter. She was addressing no one in particular, and took a glance around the room looking for anyone volunteering to reply. The shyness that had still been there in Annie's voice back on the field was now completely gone. The professor's Brittish accent, which Annie presumed just as a 'funny way to talk', manifested itself in her again. It came easier now that there wasn't so much pressure on her anymore.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>