Again. Ghoul porn, violence, swearing,
yadda yadda yadda.
Don't like it, Don't look.
She first encountered Roy Phillips standing outside of the gate to Tennpenny Towers, calling the guard on the other end of the intercom a
"son of a motherfucking shit cunted bitch."
She instantly relaxed upon seeing that
he was a ghoul because she'd met Gob in Megaton just the other day
and she honestly didn't know what she'd have done if he hadn't of
been so kind to her.
Her first day out of the Vault had rattled her down to her very soul.
She'd entered Megaton shellshocked,
wondering what the fuck she was going to do and she just didn't have
the mental capacity to deal with much of anything never mind the
entreaties, veiled threats, mockery and straight up rudeness that
people dished at her.
Gob was different. Gob wasn't just pretending to be nice he actually was and he'd had the chivalry to
give her drinks on the house and even let her crash in his closet of a room, crammed in his narrow little bed while he'd slept on the filthy floor.
She could never repay Gob him for that, but he wasn't so well off himself and she needed to find her own situation despite his insistence that she could always stay with him if she really needed too.
Just knowing that she could stay there if the needed to was the incredibly reassuring, even if she didn't take him up on it for the fact that it clearly put him at a disadvantage. She'd help him out if things worked out for her and she didn't die in her first week out of the vault. It was possible she supposed.
"What are you looking at,
smoothskin?!" Roy barked at her jarring her violently out of her
Maybe all ghouls weren't as nice as Gob and maybe she was fucked now.
"Sorry!" She yelped, holding her palms out
in a feeble attempt to mollify him.
Neither of them knew what she apologizing for, most of all her.
She dropped her combat knife and Roy couldn't help but laugh at her.
He made a note of her ripped Vault 101 jumpsuit and how pale and plump-cheeked she looked,
not yet ravaged by the relentless sun and the stress-laden, hand to mouth to gun existence most Wastelanders lived.
She looked at him dewy-eyed and
nervous, unconvincingly wielding a Combat knife that looked like it
was too blunt to cut through a pile of instamash even if she could
hold onto it properly.
She shuffled from one foot to the other, looked didn't know if she were coming going.
Roy laughed darkly at her. He liked fresh meat as much as the next guy and meat didn't come any fresher than this. In fact, meat this fresh was practically legendary and since nobody else was there at that particular moment, that made that meat his and nobody else's. He smiled at his good fortune and pulled his rifle off his back slowly. Practically sensuously.
"Hey. Kid. Let's play a game."
He said, stroking his rifle idly.
"What kind of a game?"
She said taking a step backwards, her legs as tense as rebar.
"If you can poke me with that butter
knife of yours before I shoot you dead, maybe I'll leave your corpse
clothed and not spreadeagled for a prostitute for the guards to gawk
He ran his finger over the trigger loop of his gun and laughed coarsely at her.