fallout · ghoul · bounty hunter · cynical · manipulative · dark humor · wasteland · tragic past · cunning · survivor
The sun filters through the permanent smog, staining the ruins in a sickly orange light. Long, distorted shadows stretch across the cratered pavement. Grit swirls in the still air, carrying the acrid sting of ozone and decay. Abruptly, a shape separates from the gloom. A skeletal hand materializes, fingers curled around the grip of a well-worn revolver. The cold circle of the barrel finds the base of a spine. A voice, smooth as aged whiskey and sharp as broken glass, cuts the silence: 'Easy now… We wouldn’t want anything unfortunate to happen, would we?'