"Mph... what the fuck is this?" I gagged as I reached into my mouth - full of radroach meat - and pulled on the squishy, nasty thing my teeth had hit. "Fuck!" I spit the meat out as I pulled a full wing out, shiny with spit and spotted with the bug's blood. God, I fucking hated the Outside. It was like some bad fairytale but the princess had died a couple hundred years ago and the prince had committed suicide.

I felt vomit rise in my throat as the entire meal I'd fought to kill came up onto the cement beside me. I squeezed my eyes shut to avoid seeing it and grabbed my shit as I stood up, moving away from the carcass as fast as possible. Before long, I was hungry again, and I was angry and raging with all the testosterone my female body could muster.

I'd dragged the radroach I'd killed in the cave behind me after leaving that fucking vault - I knew I'd need food - and now I was lost again and had absolutely nothing. I had come up to a sign advertising the messiah-vault that would save us all from the nuclear holocaust. I slammed my foot into the metal bar, screaming, "Motherfucking Cocksuckers... fuck... Choke on your balls! Goddammit Dad! Goddammit I fucking hate you!" I growled audibly, ignoring the feeling that my foot had exploded against the bar. Sighing, I turned towards the south.

I turned the cap off a bottle of water, staring at a large building jutting out of the horizon. "So this is the crotch of humanity," I mumbled, sipping the water carefully before shoving it back into my bag. There was a gunshot off behind me somewhere and I jumped. "What the-" I was interrupted as I turned around.

"Mother-" My foot twisted against the rock and I felt my ankle touch the ground before I slid backward and down the small hill of rock. "Fucker!"

I could feel warm liquid running down my scalp and I could feel the stinging in my leg - but fuck if I could really care right now. All I could see was a skeleton staring at me from a trailer, beckoning me to come sleep on his mattress. So I did.

"Hey Charon."

"Go away."

"You know, people've been saying-"

"Shut up. Leave me alone."

"It's just-"

"Leave," I growled, taking a step towards the ghoul that persisted to talk to him.

"Fine, fine - jeez," he mumbled, backing off and finally leaving.

Stupid fucks - all of 'em. They accepted their misconceived fates and sit around the fuckin' Underworld getting drunk and recycling their own goddamned wastes. Disgusting, mutated animals. They could all have their own fuckin' lives if they'd get up and out like Quinn did.

Honestly, I guess I envied Quinn sometimes. Fucker got out whenever he wanted - he was the only one. Then again - there was that bright-eyed ghoul over a decade ago who decided to leave. Finding his fortune or some bullshit. Probably got caught by slavers or raiders - guy had a fuckin' 10mm. Obviously he wasn't sane enough to leave by himself.

Carol practically let her place go to shit - probably would've completely if it wasn't for that Greta. God, I hated her. She gave me the eye occasionally - I wish it was the evil eye instead of the "fuck-me" one. Shit, I'd rather do a car's exhaust than that centuries-old bitch; besides, she wasn't my type. You know, the type that didn't involve three-ways with someone who was considered old even before the war and snarky remarks about her break, her cigarettes, and... whatever Carol was to her.

Then there was Azrukhal. I suppose you can't really attack him for doing nothing with his life - he was, of course, exploiting these wretched things for caps and entertainment - as in, watching them fall over each other and attempt to get in fights that are broken up by me. He stood behind that force field of a bar, never really touching anything his customer's did; he seemed to think he was some fucking god (or human, if you want to look at it that way) who'd be contaminated by their scarred fingers.

But hey - what excuse do I have? I shifted my weight onto my left leg, groaning mentally. It couldn't possibly be healthy to stand nonstop for days. That's all I was allowed to do.

Stand.

Watch.

Fidget.

Growl.

Stand.

Watch.

Shoot.

Stand.

Every day. Every fucking day. He just stood there, grinning at his thoughts; what I wouldn't give to just put this barrel to his face and see if he really does have maggots eating out his brain...

There was Greta again - she came in to find Quinn (she said that every fuckin' time she barged in here, shaking her bones where her ass had fallen off a couple lifetimes ago, shooting glances I couldn't read through glassy, dead, ghoulified eyes.

I rolled my head around, cracking my neck, and moved my arms back to pop my spine. I couldn't feel my feet anymore today. I crossed my arms - I couldn't feel my fingers. I shut my eyes, hoping to rest for just a-

"Charon," Azrukhal growled. He never let me just fuckin' rest. But I had to listen. I had to fucking stand here, and I had to follow Greta to the bathrooms when she handed her caps to Azrukhal.