I wanted to try my hand at writing a kind of crazy character. Don't know where I'm going with this, or how it'll turn out, but it sure is fun.


Nobody in the goddamned motherfucking Capitol Wasteland has any right to back sass me. I swear to god, they should be kissing my ass. But do they? No. In fact, once I ditched that vault suit, no one even gave a Molerat's ass about who I was. Just some little girl lost in the Capitol Wasteland. I'll show you lost. Show you the blunt end of my rifle, that's lost.

Sighing, I scratched my neck, pulling at a scab. Fucking Raiders and their attitude. Ugh. I would much rather be a Raider, actually. They got to hangout half-naked, and blast the shit out of whatever came close to them. Including me, apparently. All I wanted to do was to befriend them, shoot some shit with them, and maybe get to follow them around. Hell, even if they are backstabbing, bloodsucking vermin, they're better than being the Lone Wanderer saint of fucking shit city.

Speaking of which, where the hell did Three Dog get off talking about me like that? Sure, praise me all you want I have no mind to it, but fuck. Now I have every sad person in the 'land askin' for my help. That's why I ditched the suit, I got sick of people asking me to do them favors. It wasn't even cool favors, either. Nothing like taking out Deathclaws, or saving a family member from a Behemoth. Nope. It was 'oh can you escort me here?' What do I look like a fucking taxi?

It's alright though. I don't need the vault suit. I got myself a good set of Raider Badlands Armor. I tell you, it looks good and keeps me pretty protected. I like how it shows my slim, newly-toned stomach. Before I had this nasty stomach roll from too many Sweetrolls in the vault. Since learning about the Capitol Wasteland and how to survive, I've gotten pretty slim and fit. I especially love how all those Wastelander boys eye me like a piece of meat. It makes me smile and shake my ass just a little bit more. Nothing sexier than a girl with a sawed-off shotgun, I say so.

I slung my shotgun over my shoulder, and put one hand on my hip. Scanning the area, I licked my finger and stuck it in the air. The wind hit it and I smiled. I have no fucking clue why people do that, but it made me look like I knew what I was doing. I shoved a cigarette in my mouth, and stared at the Washington Monument in the near-distance.

"What should I do now?"

Talking to yourself probably falls under the definition of insanity, but it's nice to have some conversation every now and again.

"I need to get myself some motherfucking Jet."

Puffing my cigarette, I crouched on my knees. I bet you ten bucks that fucker Three Dog huffs Jet, I mean, how can he not? He's always rambling and never seems to sleep. I can run for two days straight without sleep if I have a good amount of Jet in my pack.

"Where should I go now?"

I checked out the Capitol Wasteland map on my Pip-Boy. I was supposed to be heading over to Rivet City, but I put that shit on the back burner. I have freedom to do as I please out here, and what I please to do is not follow orders from stupid fucking people. I know I'm in the middle of a city, overrun with Super Mutants and Raiders and feral ghouls, but I dare them to fuck with me. I can take out five Super Mutants with good aim from my Sniper Rifle, so they didn't bother me, and the ghouls and Raiders were easy, fun kills. I never thought shooting a gun would be so goddamned fun.

Looking at the pile of rubble I was standing on, I smiled. This was my kind of place. Danger, adventure, lore, and a lot of shooting. I saw someone walking around a Metro station not too far from where I was standing. I know there's a Super Mutant hideout in those dug-out tunnels over there, but I wasn't feeling like wasting ammo just now. I'm in the Mall, right now, and I know I should really find a place to sleep. I didn't like traveling in the city at night. My night-vision is shot to shit. I don't have very good perception.

Climbing down from the rubble, I jumped and landed on my feet.

"And the crowd cheers!"

I put my arms in the air and turned around, receiving imagined praise. Laughing at myself, I readjusted my shotgun and started walking.

"Well, I got three places to choose from…where to go, where to go?"

I had the Museum of History, Technology, or the Super Mutant hideout. I can wipe out that fuckers and take all their shit, but I'm low on ammo. I don't think I have enough to take out all of them, just a good few. Plus I have to take the elements into consideration. Do I want to sleep somewhere damp and dark, or warm and cozy? I shuddered as a cold wind caught me off guard.

"Warm and cozy it is."

The sun was beginning to set behind the buildings. I have to find a place to crash, and fast. I don't like the Museum of Technology. It has Super Mutants and smells like shit everywhere. They aren't the cleanest bunch of cocksuckers out here. Which is really quite a shame. They'd be pretty useful to me if they didn't want to blow my brains out all the time. What's with that anyways? Everyone I come across either wants me dead or wants me to do something for them. I am getting sick of the two extremes, it was wearing me down and I don't have the patience to deal with it.

I pushed open the Museum of History doors. They were fucking heavy let me tell you that. Like someone didn't want something getting out…or in. Well, I just blew that idea straight to hell. I got in. Take that! Pulling out my shotgun I made sure to scan the area best I could. It was dim, and hard to see, but there was a barrel of fire not too far from me.

"Alright!"

My voice echoed in the vast rooms and I laughed. Walking over to the barrel, I warmed my hands and torso. Badlands Armor isn't good at keeping one warm. But you figure it gets pretty fucking hot out in the Capitol Wasteland, so you want something that doesn't overheat you. It's just the nighttime that jitters and chills me. I fucking hate the dark.

"Dezbe! The wanderer of Capitol Wasteland, shooter of all things that can be shot and sexy as sexy can be!"

I cheered myself on as I ran around the fire, holding my gun high in the air. I waved it around like a flag, smiling and cheering.

"I feel bad for the souls who cross me."

Kicking over some old ass bones of something huge, I took out another cigarette. I used the barrel of fire to light it. I stared into the flames like I was in some sort of trance. It was pretty. I don't know how to start a fire by myself, so when I find something already lit that's an accomplishment.

I should be in Rivet City. I should have helped that man find something to drink. I should have helped out Colin Moriarty in Megaton with some skank named Silver, and I shouldn't have left that Wastelander to their fate of Super Mutants. But you know, what has any of them dome for me? I'm not the devil, but I'm not a goddamned saint, either. My services don't come cheap, and I didn't ask for Three Dog to make me holier than thou. Doing a few good deeds here and there makes me some kind of saint, I don't know how or why, but it does. Actually, I'm kind of happy people don't know who I am anymore. Without the giant 101 on my back, everyone is kind of like 'oh, she's just some traveler' or 'some girl lost' or some stupid shit. I can shoot and aim better than most people out in the Capitol Wasteland, so no one should be bitching at me.

I really want Jet. I want to huff some and run around before I totally zoink out for the night. It was so damn easy for me to just fall asleep, I think that's why I like huffing Jet. It makes everything so much more fun and exciting. I feel like…like I'm invincible and damn I get better shots in.

"I am invincible!"

I screamed at the top of my lungs. I heard it echo and bounce off of everything, and I laughed manically to myself.

"I crack myself up."

That echoed too, and I had to stifle a giggle. You know what I heard of? I heard that way on the other side of the Capitol Wasteland, past the city, and even past the vault, and up to the North were these satellite dishes. I heard you can climb all the way to the top of them, and their bigger than anything else in the Wasteland. Well, besides the Washington Monument.

"Tomorrow, I will go there."

I want to check out these dishes. Maybe there's some cool shit in there, and hell, maybe I could even make a home from one of them. If anyone tried to attack me, I'd have a Fat Boy up at the very top, and I'd just climb of there and blast them all the hell. Big guns…I love that shit. I smiled to myself, thinking about how awesome that would be. I'd be some crazy ass lady in the middle of nowhere with huge fuckin' guns. No one, and I mean no one would bother me or ask for help. I could live all alone, peacefully, forever and ever. Yeah, I think I like that idea.

Stretching out on the floor, I stared up at the ceiling. I had lit another cigarette off of my old one, and tried to blow smoke rings. It didn't work. I sighed. You know sometimes it got really boring out here. I have no one but myself for conversation, and I got pretty lame sometimes. I sighed louder, trying to get something to echo back so I could actually hear some voices. Instead, I heard a loud creaking to my right, and I stood up, grabbing my shotgun. You can never be too careful.

"Who's there?"

I yelled. A door from under a giant skull was opening up, and a female ghoul stuck her head out. She closed the door behind her, and lit up a cigarette, ignoring the fact that I had my gun draw at her.

"You really shouldn't do that. They'll come after you."

I stepped closer, my gun still aimed at her rotting head.

"Who will come after me?"

She laughed, blowing out some smoke.

"The residents of Underworld."

Underwhat?