they lied. they’re pursuing that synth.

oh, okay! i can get some more things if you ever want to trade. i do have some food.

oh, uh — i think the ncr needs to pull out of nevada. i haven’t heard any rumors recently, other than something about the surgeon in diamond city killing people. i have a pistol, if you want it.

it’s not like sinclair is going to actively pursue her. it’s not exactly their goal to chase anyone down anymore. they hardly think anything of her at all, really. no real recollection of her being something to pursue, anyway. so, they settle on letting her go.

oh thank god :)

everyone is so mean to me 💔

as long as their head stays in tact, they can probably manage. still, their hands are away from a weapon. they don’t actually mean any harm.

“oh.” soft — more or less defeated. frankly, courser is a loose way to describe it. formerly, maybe, but hardly a threat unless prompted anymore.

. . . settlement? their expression shifts to visibly be more curious. they really don’t mean any harm — they’re not even armed.

in their defense, they haven’t fully determined if she’s a threat. inching closer.

aw, did they scare her? gaze softens some. expression does, too.

their face is equally expressionless. they don’t break eye contact, instead step closer. slowly but surely.

fuck it. she’s getting stared at too.

finally, turning. staring back. their eyes show little indication of life. they stare right back, with equal intensity.

they can feel the gaze. on attention, but not looking yet.

watching from a distance. silent.

cleaning off their shotgun. sigh. the commonwealth seems to be as shit as ever.

/ also this is a starter call

i’m never leaving my cave again.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ BLOOD IS ON YOUR ⠀ ⠀⠀ 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐄 AS WELL ⠀ ⠀⠀ AS YOUR 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒.