If you haven't read Effects, you might need to but not really. Evil!Karma Lone Wanderer. The Vault is open to anyone, not just for trading.
She twirled the pistol in her hand, a psychotic grin on her face. She lowered it as she passed the raider; she was trying to drag herself away from her attacker, legs broken at odd angles. One bullet in the back of the head and the raider ceased her movements, body going slack in the dry Wasteland dirt.
"And that makes 322," she grinned, stuffing her pistol into the holster on her right hip. She looked around at the bodies sprawled in the dirt. "I think it's time to head on home, what you think?"
Dogmeat barked once, head low as he panted, blood staining his muzzle. She grinned and slid her glasses onto her eyes, walking towards the gate leading out of the old baseball field. Dogmeat jogged behind her, keeping his nose to the ground. The dog was unfailingly loyal, she never had to worry about losing him and that was perfect. She had a hard enough time keeping up with her cigarettes, let alone a dog that wouldn't leave even when she pretended to shoot his foot.
He just grinned at her.
"I don't wanna leave the congo oh no, no, no, no," she sang in time with the radio on her Pip-Boy, waggling a finger in the air as she cocked a hip.
Dogmeat barked, as if in support. She laughed loudly and twirled, arms spread out at her sides. This was the life, roaming wherever she wanted to, singing in her awful, cracked voice with no one but a dog to judge. And the dog was pretty much her biggest supporter. She didn't know what other life there was to lead, but none of them could compare to this one. She was the Wastelands biggest threat and Three-Dog supported her even though she had pulled a couple of good deeds. Like killing those cannibals in Andale, helping Harkness with his Zimmer problem, escorting that idiot to Big Town. Of course, she killed him afterwards. And she constantly stole from Harkness' quarters, and she had helped herself to some of the strange meat in the fridge at Andale but Three Dog didn't know any of that. And what he doesn't know can't hurt him.
"I wonder if Roy and the others got everything in order at the tower," she mused out loud.
Dogmeat barked and jogged ahead of her, sniffing at the ground. She scowled at the dog but continued behind him, humming along to the radio until Three-Dog's voice cut through the air.
"That Vault girl is at it again, hacking and whacking and smacking all over the Wasteland. Might need to take to calling her Butcher Pete these days," she giggled, actually thinking the name through. Though, she would prefer something besides Pete. "Latest news on our favorite little Vault dweller? She was last spotted leaving Arefu where the settlement has been hit hard by a murderous gang of riotess ruffians…"
Oh yeah, Arefu. Vance. She wondered how they were doing. She hadn't been there in over a month. Was that all the information that Three-Dog had on her? She had been doing a hell of a lot more than that in the past week alone. Ike – as she had taken to calling herself to anyone that she met – often wondered who Three-Dogs informant was. It could be a Brotherhood soldier. Maybe that Gallows fellow. Sarah (Lyons) had told her that Gallows was a part of Lyons Pride and was a field agent. If anyone saw the mysterious soldier, they were already dead. That didn't make much sense, but Ike understood what she meant. That would seem like the likely candidate, seeing as Ike's perception was shit and half the time she ran into the sides of the shacks littered across the hot ass Wasteland.
"I say," Ike skipped for a moment. "After we rest up, we head off to Underworld," she froze, watching a giant Radscorpion scuttle across her path. But it was paying attention to the Mole Rat hissing at it. "I gotta pick up some things. You ready for a bit of a journey?"
Dogmeat yipped and continued to jog. Ike smiled and reached back, scratching at the bottom of her scalp, picking a scab out of her hair. She needed a haircut; maybe she would get Godfrey to do it when she got home. Or was its name Wadsworth? Whatever its name was, it could cut some fucking hair. And dye it, which really surprised Ike. But the pink was shitty and kind of rusty-looking but the hair cut was nice. Several of the previous residents of Tenpenny Tower said it was so unlady-like. It was long on one side and shaved on the other, uneven because she had been tromping around the Wasteland for quite some time.
"Three-Dog needs some new music," Ike scowled, turning off the radio.
Dogmeat grunted and so did Ike. The hill they were climbing up was pretty steep but once they crested over the top of it, Ike smiled. Tenpenny Tower stood proud in the distance, lit by the afternoon lights from the new guard towers on the concrete walls around the tower. Tenpenny thought his small handful of guards would keep their little tower safe? Ike had learned rather quickly that raids were too regular for the tower and Roy had seen to fix the problem by placing guards around the walls. The raids had lowered to just a trickle instead of a full-fledged flood like it was when Tenpenny was in charge.
"Ya know, these disappearances without notice are really aggravating."
Ike grinned at Roy as he pulled the gate open for her. She helped him shut it, grunting as the rusted gate gave them much resistance. The wiring had been ripped free by a guard that thought the immobile gate would affect the new residents. His mind set was a mystery, but he was dead now so it didn't matter.
Ike huffed and placed her hands on her hips while Dogmeat jogged over to one of the beds the guards used and curled up on it. Ike looked over at Roy, grinning at him lopsidedly. "Would you believe me if I said I was actually doing good this trip?"
Roy snorted. "I don't believe much of what you say."
Ike shrugged and they started walking towards the front door. "I wish Three-Dog didn't believe in anything I said. When I first met him, I was the prodigal daughter, the Masiah," she grinned at him. "He still thinks of me as such and it just amazes me."
Roy smirked opening the door for her. "The stories I could tell him…"
Ike nudged him. "Don't say anything, it's the only thing keeping the Regulators off my back and Talon off my trail. Everyone has mixed emotions over me and it's just fine with me."
"You're psychotic, you know?"
"That's what they all say…" she chewed on her bottom lip, stopping him with a firm hand on Roy's bicep; he looked down at it then back up to her. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about…"
Short start I know, but they get longer. I promise.