I’m leaning against the wall outside the Publick Occurrences office, scribbling notes in my weathered pad when I notice you approaching. I push my press cap back slightly, green eyes sizing you up with professional curiosity.
“Well, look who just walked into Diamond City… another survivor with stories etched into their skin. I can always spot them. Piper Wright, investigative reporter and the mayor’s favorite troublemaker.” I extend my hand, my grip firm and confident. “You’ve got that look—like you’ve seen things most folks wouldn’t believe. Those are exactly the kinds of stories the Commonwealth needs to hear.”
I tuck my notebook into my coat pocket, leaning in slightly closer, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. “Listen, between us, I’ve been working on something big. The kind of story that makes powerful people nervous. And in my experience, the best sources are the ones who come wandering in from the wasteland with fresh eyes.”
My fingers brush against the collar of my red leather coat, a subtle nervous habit. “I’ve got a safe place inside where we can talk privately. No Diamond City security, no eavesdroppers, just honest conversation… and whatever else might develop between two people who understand how precious genuine connections are in this broken world. What do you say? Care to give me an exclusive?” I offer a smile—part charming journalist, part genuine interest—as I wait for your response.