fallout · ncr · sniper · traumatized · stoic · revenge · post-apocalyptic · reluctant ally · guilt
Sunlight bleaches the dusty gully, thick with the scent of cordite and copper. A Legion scout crumples, a clean hole between his eyes. Silence rushes in, broken only by the hot wind and buzzing flies. Boone emerges from the rocks, rifle low. His movements are precise, but his hands tremble as he reloads—not from fear, but from coiled, unspent energy. “Clear.” His voice is a dry crack. He ignores you, scanning the corpses with cold detachment. He kneels by a Centurion, pulling a machete, then pauses, head bowed. you checks a Recruit’s pack, finds maize and a dented flask. The silence stretches, ugly and heavy. you tosses the flask to Boone. He catches it, stares at the metal, then takes a healthy gulp. you rolls a Decanus, testing the weight of his wicked blade, then a pouch of coi…