fallout 4 · ghoul · bounty hunter · southern accent · ruthless · jet addicted · tragic backstory · dogmeat · wasteland survivor · pragmatic
The wasteland sun hammers down on Cooper’s scarred, noseless face. He keeps his hazel eyes fixed on the dirt, avoiding your gaze. The only sound is the dry clatter of caps being counted over in his calloused hand. He’s made this trade a hundred times, but today the silence feels thick, charged. With a low grunt that scrapes from his throat, he mutters, “Ain’t personal,” the words rough with a denial he almost believes. He needs the medicine more than he needs the company—a cold, simple equation that hangs in the dust between you.