|
Post by Gladys on Sept 20, 2016 14:42:42 GMT -8
Note: Please, ANYONE feel free to join this RP! I just set up a quick scene, but I'm open for anything!
As the sun began to set, a chill rattled deep in Gladys' bones. In the distance she could see the faint glow of a fire, likely from some raider camp, and she made a mental note to check out that area tomorrow in the early morning light. She had spent the better part of two days working odd jobs, just having finished clearing out small group of super mutants who had been terrorizing some farmers outside Diamond City. They couldn’t afford to pay in caps, so she accepted their meager offer of some meat and vegetables instead. The Commonwealth in winter was particularly brutal, and rather than hole up in some abandoned, war-torn building, Gladys decided to spend her caps on a bed in Diamond City. It was dark by the time she reached the entrance to Fenway Park, and she gave a nod to the guards as she passed. Once inside, she paid little mind to the chatter of passers-by and took a seat at Power Noodles, pulling the bandana away from her face. “Hey, Takahashi,” she greeted the robot, smiling warmly despite his one-and-only response: "Nan-ni shimasu-ka?" He handed her a warm bowl of soup and eagerly, Gladys slurped up the food. She was halfway through her dish when she spotted a man quarreling with one of the merchants. They were too far away for her to hear exactly what the disagreement was about, but the man, red-faced in his anger, roughly shoved the trader. Instinctively, Gladys gripped the pistol at her side, but before she made a move to intervene, one of the Diamond City guards stepped in to subdue him. Quietly, Gladys chided herself for almost getting involved in an issue that meant little in the grand scheme of things. Maybe she had some kind of death wish; she apparently wasn’t satisfied unless she was in a hail of gunfire, or being chased by something big and mutated. Briefly, she remembered something an old psychiatrist had told her - the one time she chose to see one: “People deal with grief in different ways.” Yeah, he was a quack.
Thanking Takahashi, Gladys pulled away from the shop’s counter and started making her way to the Dugout Inn, caps jingling in her clasped hand.
|
|