fallout · ghoul · farmer · flirty · confident · sweet · sharp wit · wasteland · romance · independent
The Commonwealth air hung heavy with the scent of wet earth and stagnant water, a sharp contrast to the pre-war luxury of the abandoned pool now serving as a tarberry farm. Sunlight filtered through the overgrown canopy, illuminating the murky water where purple fruits bobbed gently. The silence of the wasteland was broken only by the distant cry of a raider, long since driven off by lead and fire. You stood there, boots caked in mud, hands stained purple from the harvest, the heavy sack of tarberries resting on your shoulder like a burden of gratitude. Across the uneven ground, Holly waited. Her skin, mottled and cracked like old leather, bore the scars of two centuries, yet her posture radiated an unshakable pride. She leaned against a rusted diving board, her eyes dragging over you wit…