Wasteland Watcher.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*sighs* okay, this honestly goes against all my inner values, I swore I would never do an OC every again and yet… ah well.
I love LW Charon but my mind instantly blocks me from reading fics with women in it (comes from years of reading slash) so, since my player was male anyway (and totally hot thank you very much) I decided to make my own fic for my fellow slash lovers.
A little warning, this is going to be slightly random and one shot-ish for each chapter, which will all be based on different quests. Some will be funny, some will be dramatic, some will be… basic smut eventually, but to start I'm going to introduce everyone so don't let the initial dullness turn you off, let everything else XP
Ok, done talking, read.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A ghoul's life was a long one to live. Some were driven into madness, burrowing down into the dark depths of the metro as their minds rotted away. Some stewed in their anger and let their guns do the talking, those few never lasted very long. Most just settled into a state of depressing existence in whatever whole they weren't going to get shot in. After two hundred years of living there wasn't much left to excite them.
Charon had lived as long as any ghoul in Underworld, so many years he'd lost count and a will to care. Even if his life had been rather different, not much that came through ever really surprised him. The ferocity of enemies never frightened him, the depths of each employer's selfishness never disappointed him, life was simply an annoying nuisance he had to deal with. Ahzrukhal was hardly a saint, but he was just a lizard among the devils he'd had to deal with. If anything this job was the dullest he'd had to deal with so far, he'd take being shot at over standing in a corner any day. With the lack of windows in underworld, his life just became one long, tedious day of kicking out drunks and thinking about what he would do to that weasel if he wasn't holding his contract in his greasy, rotting hands.
Nothing really surprised him… Until the little vault freak wandered in.
In hindsight he should have known something was up when the usual echoes of rasped voices quieted as they always did when a new smoothskin came. He didn't pay it any mind, they wouldn't be talking with him unless he was dragging them out by their still attached hair. Whoever they were they would probably leave screaming and heaving like all the others. But after a while few ghouls passing through the bar had the smoothskin on the tips of their tongue, the stranger must have done something to be so interesting. It didn't matter though… it didn't matter.
Eventually the smoothskin found his way to the Ninth Circle, he was painfully easy to spot, but not exactly what Charon had expected. He'd caught him out of the corner of his eye, following everyone else's gaze. How the hell did that kid ever survive the wastes?
Even though he was surrounded by corpse the boy was probably the thinnest in the room, making him appear lanky with his height. Under his trader's hat waves of brown hair reached almost to his shoulders and a long merc's tunic brushed against his high boots when he walked. He looked like someone from the sixteenth century who had gotten his ass lost. Thick goggles were strapped to his face, it took Charon a second to realize he was staring right back at him and he quickly turned away. It was rare for him to get taken off guard like that, being a bouncer was softening him up.
Still he watched, discretely as he could. The boy's demeanor was different then the usual smoothskin… or anyone else in the wastes. What would you call it? … Cheerful. Yeah, he hadn't seen someone cheerful for quiet some time. He seemed more like someone strolling through the park rather then a living tomb, smiling and waving at those he passed. At least that's what he thought he was doing, again he realized that those goggles had hidden the fact that he was returning his gaze yet again. Damn, how was he able to do that?
Well their little staring contest had apparently caught the boys attention, he could feel (or at least thought he felt) his eyes on him while he wandered aimlessly around the crumbling halls. It made him uneasy but he didn't seem the least bit dangerous so he tried his best to ignore him.
That would have worked out just fine and everything would have gone back to normal. Now that he thought back on it there was no chance for anything normal when it came to him.
The next day saw to that. As soon as the kid trotted in he made a bee line for Charon. It was obvious by his step that he had FAR too much energy for the morning hours. With an ever so slight bounce he stopped in front of him and pulled those goggles up to perch them on the bill of his hat.
The biggest, bluest eyes he'd ever seen stared up at him, if it wasn't for the thin beard that trimmed the edge of his face he would have sworn he was still pubescent. A small smile perked his mustache. No one that innocent that would survive a month in DC.
"Hello!"
Oh jeez… innocent and far too cheerful for this day and age. He could feel a headache creeping on.
"I'm Walter, what's your name?"
"Talk to Ahzrukhal."
"You're tall."
Didn't he hear him the first time? "Talk to Ahzrukhal."
"Are you a mercenary?"
"Talk. To. Ahzrukhal."
His voice was as harsh as he could make it, which was something to a smoothskin since it already sounded something like a cat in a meat grinder, but he didn't even blink… in fact he didn't seem to hear anything at all.
"You seem angry."
You think?
"It must be frustrating standing over here all day. Do you get lonely?"
Maybe if he ignored him he'd go away.
After a string of senseless question after question the boy eventually ran out of things to ask. This, however, didn't mean he was about to leave. Perched at a foots length away he stood a head shorter then Charon, staring up at him, just staring. He tried to watch the patrons, Ahzrukhal, the wall, anything but the boy. He could stand there forever if he liked, he wasn't about to give in.
And that was his intention, one minute turned into two.
Then five.
Then ten.
"Talk to Ahzrukhal!"
An odd twitch perked at the edge of his lips, was that a smirk? Turning on his heal he faced away from him for the first time in what seemed like forever, hiding whatever expression he held. "Alright." Was all he said before he headed off to, sure enough, the bar with Ahzrukhal.
Yep, there was that headache.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The kid wasn't there the next day, obviously he had better thing to do then hang around a bar and stare at him, thank god, but he did come back. Every few days or so he'd pop in, usually looking a little worse for the wear, and plop himself down at a table, never to close but always in eyesight of Charon. He'd yank out the same worn notebook, pull his goggles down over those large eyes and refuse to move for some time. Never once did he order a drink, passively cementing the fact that he was there only to watch Charon, or annoy him would probably be a better choice of words... and he succeeded. He'd asked Ahzrukhal why he didn't kick the kid out but apparently his loitering was attracting customers so there was nothing he could do.
Whatever he was doing there he attracted ghouls like mouths to a light bulb. Every few minuets one or more perched them selves at his table to chat… or whatever they did, for hours some times. He saw the boy's lips moving but his goggled eyes were always on his notebook, it was only the time he caught them sneaking looks back at him did they ever leave.
Charon put up with it for some time, after all, he wasn't all that sure what got him so stirred up about some stupid kid in the first place. But day by day his curiosity got to him. What the hell were they talking about that was so damn interesting?
When he was certain Ahzrukhal was busy with a customer (the last thing he needed was his bitching) he grabbed the arm of a ghoul who has leaving the kid's little party, it turned out to be Winthrop. He would have assumed he'd at least have enough sense not to get in with this.
"H-Hey Charon…" he seemed rather uncomfortable, probably because of the grip he had on him, he was already intimidating just standing still. "Something wrong?"
"What were you doing with the smoothskin?"
He blinked, surprised. "Walter? Just… talken'… He likes to talk to the ghouls around here."
"About what?" what the hell made him so damn popular?
"A lot of things…Sometimes about what it's like… you know, to be like us. But most of the time we talk about stuff before the war. He's writing a book or something."
"And…?" there was something else, his eyes wouldn't be shifting like that if there wasn't.
Whatever it was he was having trouble finding the words. "It's the way he looks at you… like he can see your words. He takes whatever story we give him like its… food to him or something."
Of course Charon didn't understand, that was complete gibberish. "'See your words?'"
Winthrop shrugged when he let him go. "I don't know how to explain it, but no one ever looked at me like that even when I had skin. You'll have to talk him yourself I guess."
"No thanks…" Glancing over he caught those eyes behind their goggles, again that little smug smirk hinted at the edge of his cheerful smile before he gave a wave.
No, the last thing he wanted was to get anywhere close to figuring out what was going on in that head of his.
But it looked like he wasn't going to have a choice in the matter.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He knew something was up, he knew it, a low growl vibrated in the back of his throat at the thought. It was the same sense of foreboding he felt when the boy first came, like something in his world was about to go terribly terribly wrong.
It was the way the kid walked in, there was an odd spring in each long step he took. And it was the fact that he didn't look at him when he passed, like he had something so important to do, or something he thought was important... which couldn't mean anything good.
He stopped right in front of the bar with a bounce of his heals, mere seconds after he opened his mouth an expression came over Ahzrukhal's face that, if Charon were a lesser ghoul, would have sent him laughing to the floor. Whatever it was he said, soon the weasel's eyes were on him, then back to the boy, god the caps he would have given the know what the kid had done. After a few minuets of his foul mouth opening and closing, for once without any smug venom to spew, and a muffled show of furious defeat in the way his fingers dug into the bar Ahzrukhal managed a forced smile and nodded, what was done was done.
You didn't have to be a genius to know what was going on, and when the kid strutted over it only confirmed the churning in the pit of his stomach. He stopped in front of him, setting off déjà vu of their first uncomfortable meeting, and again he pulled up his thick goggles… but there was something different. The big blue eyes from before were slanted, smug slits and a smirk showed off white teeth that didn't come from anywhere in the wastes he knew of. It was like those stupid goggles let him change masks, he had to fight a shudder that ran down his exposed spine. It was unsettling, he was used being able to tell who was an enemy and who wasn't, he could read something that kept changing.
"So, what's a handsome ghoul like yourself doing all alone and unemployed?"
What the hell?
"… You bought my contract…?" it didn't sound like a question and it really wasn't. He wanted to ask 'Did you just hit on me?' but he didn't want to hear the answer.
"Bought, blackmailed, confiscated, however you want to say it.
That raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
Casually he waved his hand in the air, Charon spotted an odd device on his wrist, it was glowing. Maybe this kid wasn't from the Wastes after all.
"That's not important right now. What is important is that I am in need of a research assistant and you are in need of a job. I thought we might be able to help each other out."
He knew he'd regret asking this, probably for the rest of his long… long life, but by the lingering silence he could tell things weren't going to move along until he did. "…And… what are you researching exactly?"
"Glad you asked!" he started up almost before Charon had a chance to finish. The gadget on his hand gave him the pleasure of a light show with each of his dramatic gestures. "I am a writer, and explorer, a modern day Bard if you will. I am chronicling the tragically beautiful world in which we live." He backed away when the kid suddenly pointed in his face. "That's where you come in my friend." Since when were they friends? "My explorations take me into some… less then pleasant places and I need a strapping gentleman like yourself to defend my honor and body."
God the boy was beaming like a headlight, he really had his work cut out for him, a little hyperactive Charles Dickens actually intent on getting himself killed.
"So what do you say, want to get out of this shady hole and go on an adventure?"
"You are my employer, it dose not matter where you go, I will fallow."
The kid pretended to pout, but only for a second. "Such an enthusiastic monotone you have. Well then, it's a deal. I've never had an… employee before… what exactly is it that you do?"
"What you tell me to."
He blinked, as if what he said wasn't simple enough. "Really? I'm not used to giving orders." When he crossed his arms his character changed again, everything he did was acting for some play in his head. "Can you help me with that?"
"Yes, stop asking and start ordering." This was going to get on his nerves real quick.
But the kid found it funny, he chuckled as he looked up to him. "Oky~ then! I have to get to Megaton before nightfall so if you're going to join me, we'd better get going. Is there anything you need to finish off before we begin our little journey together?"
"Just one."
He backed away as Charon walked by, but then followed him to the bar like an excited pup. It was true, the kid had managed to prove him wrong by surviving this long in the hell ironically outside of underworld, but he still acted far too green. In the back of his mind he wondered if the boy had ever turned that rifle strapped to his back towards anything more intelligent then a mole rat. Well now he was about to learn a good lesson.
"Charon." Ahzrukhal seemed to still be reeling over whatever the kid had against him, slumped pathetically over his own bar. Charon would have to find out what it was some day, get himself a rare laugh… shame he would never be able to use it against the bastard himself. "Come to say goodbye, have you?"
"Yes."
The sound of his shotgun echoing off walls was one of the few comforting things he'd had in a long time, an old friend saying hello. The following splattered bits of skull and brains that littered the bar like an odd, red snow that clung to the bottles. Someone would have to clean up this mess later, he allowed himself a small smile when he knew it wouldn't be him.
Before he checked to see if he'd traumatized the kid, which wouldn't exactly be a bad thing, a strange… disturbing noise rose up behind him.
The boy was laughing, arms crossed, head back, laughing at the scene. The slanted sky blue slits beamed brightly at him when he spoke.
"Lovely." he'd seen something he liked. "The tainted blood of a corruption spread all over that which has slaved his life to but could not bring with him. You're a master of symbolism, my friend." He pet his shoulder as he passed by.
It took Charon a second or two to realize he was staring… in shock, yeah, that was it, shock.
"You coming, Charon?"
They were silent against the frantic buzzing of the onlookers. The kid walked with his arms held behind his back, apathetic to the scene. Charon sneered, he was almost hauntingly at ease, this was not the same boy who first walked up to him.
"Do you enjoy wearing a mask like that?"
He laughed again, was everything a joke now? "Do you?"
What?
But he continued. "As much as I'd like to be an impartial observer, sometimes you have to get close to people to learn." The kid smiled up at him. "Why, are you wondering what I'm really like? I know I'm wondering what's under that scary frown of yours."
Charon said nothing.
"Hm, maybe one day we'll both find out."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thanks for reading, next few chapters may be shorter or longer.
