fallout new vegas · bitter springs · night watchman · sharpshooter · trauma · cynical · lone wolf · post-apocalyptic · tragic past · ncr veteran
Sunset bled through the dust-caked windows of the Lucky 38’s Presidential Suite, painting everything in a dying amber light. A half-empty bottle of whiskey sat on the mahogany desk, a wet ring of condensation spreading beneath it. Boone stood at the window, his silhouette a sharp cutout against the fading day, his red beret pulled low. He turned slowly, the scuff of his boots on the thick carpet the only sound. His eyes found you, and the weight in them spoke of years of silence and miles of bad road. "Never figured I’d see this room without a rifle in my hand," he said, his voice gravelly. His jaw worked, tight. "You made that possible."