As awkward as it felt, she did try to ignore the staring as she shyly began to retreat back to the safety of her spot in Carol's Place. The creeping blush along her neck forced her to duck her head to avoid the multitude of eyes and raspy whispering about her person. As unintentional as it was, she had become the spotlight in this isolated city.
"You look lost, smoothskin," the ghoul mechanic- Winthrop?- stopped her before she could ascend the stairs. "Needing something?"
She tucked a curl that had fought for its freedom back behind her ear. "My Pip-Boy's broken...I need someone that can fix it."
"May I?"
She unstrapped it, handing it over for his scarred hands to gently take hold of. The intimate sight of him tending to it so delicately formed a weird, tight ball in her belly.
He gave a whistle of appreciation, turning it over and testing a few knobs. "Haven't seen one of these in a long time...looks like the backlight for the screen is out. Should be an easy fix." He then raised his brow at her hopeful smile. "For some caps, of course."
Damn. She nodded earnestly anyway. "Thank you. It's very appreciated."
"You're too damn polite, smoothskin...not everyone deserves it," he chuckled. He motioned for her to follow him to another room that she hadn't taken notice of before. She practically hovered by his side amongst the sea of strangers lest she be carried out with the tide. "Let's see if Tulip has what we're looking for..."
Evelyn then had to endure a twenty-minute exhibition from the shopkeeper about the entire history of Underworld, and was nearly dragged by the arm around the store being shown weapons and items she had no interest in (or enough caps) to buy. While she and Winthrop discussed the part in question, Evelyn stood over to the side and pored over a book the woman had given her.
She had her nose buried so deep in the pages that she failed to notice the lettering becoming fainter due to lack of lighting. It was then that she realized the chattering at the counter had also paused. She looked up.
The big guy himself was looming over her, erupting a squeak from her lips. She had been actively avoiding him ever so cautiously, and it seemed she was about to pay the consequences for it. A quick, desperate glance at the other two in the room for some help proved futile. They were simply staring at him, just as terrified of the large ghoul as she was.
Evelyn lowered the book to her side, took a deep breath, and gave a timid smile. Was he still upset with her from before?
"I really am sorry for what happened," she began.
The ghoul's face went from completely stoic to now positively annoyed. With a terse sigh through his nostrils, his gloved palms wrapped around her shoulders with a tight grip (that could easily crush her), and he simply lifted her off the ground to move her a few feet to the side. He was neither gentle nor apologetic, and he dropped her as though she were some contagious leper.
Evelyn blinked, dumbly watching as he then collected a few boxes of ammo from the shelves that she had previously been blocking access to. He tossed a bag of caps on the counter, and then left.
"You're lucky, smoothskin," Winthrop rasped, turning her head back to him. "Some of the others...haven't been."
"What does that mean?" she questioned, now looking out the way he had gone. "Who is he? What's his deal?"
"That's Charon," Tulip chimed in, giving her a weird look. "He works for Ahzrukhal, the bar owner upstairs. It's best to avoid him."
Oh believe me, I'm trying. Evelyn then kissed a hefty portion of her caps goodbye as her Pip-Boy was taken away to be repaired.
She was going to need a job.
"Whoa!" Patchwork belched in his face, his entire body going limp under his iron grip. "Izzz that anee way to-bleh-treat a cusssstomer?"
"Come back with the caps." Ahzrukhal snapped his fingers, his face less than humored. "Get him out."
Charon directly obeyed, dragging the town drunk by the nape of his stitched burlap shirt. He threw the door open, perhaps a little too forcefully, for the trim cracked in its casing as it was banged into the wall. With a simple toss, he pitched the ghoul towards the flight of stairs, watching for a split second as Patchwork began to tumble all the way down, barely missing Cerberus.
A presence at his side made him snap his head around- the smoothskin had been standing there, observing the manner in which he treated unwanted guests. Her bright blue eyes went wide when they met his own, and without a second thought, he tightened his grip on the doorframe and slammed it shut.
With his arms across his chest, one leg propped up, and his back leaned against the peeling wallpaper, he returned to his designated position in the far corner where the lights never seemed to reach, and where no one ever came to bother him. He preferred it that way, as did everyone else.
Charon was good at hurting things, very good, and no one in Underworld needed reminding of it.
The door slowly widened; his eyes were drawn to the motion like a stalking yao guai. The smoothskin came inside, apparently not taking his passive-aggressive hint to leave well enough alone. She attracted more than his own gaze; most young pretty women would. She came to the counter, and his employer didn't bother to hide his perverted stare from groping her body. Charon couldn't hear the conversation over the coo of the radio, but when they both turned to look at him, he felt a tightening spring under his muscles.
"Charon." Ahzrukhal crooked his finger to beckon him over. Like a dog. "Come here."
The ghoul lowered his arms to his sides and took a few steps till he was beside the counter. He felt the smoothskin slightly lean away from him. He didn't say anything. He never had to. His employer liked the sound of his own voice.
"You're going to do a special job for me, do you understand?" Ahzrukhal rasped, a hideous smile curling on his face.
Charon gave a single nod of his head.
"Good. Good." He motioned to the smoothskin still standing in her spot quietly. "Charon, meet Evelyn. Evelyn, meet...Charon. He's going to take very good care of you."
This was the furthest thing she had from her mind.
She had simply enquired about some work. The ghoul lingering in Carol's Place had asked her to off some 'bigoted' smoothskins...something about the entire conversation felt forced and weird. She passed, coming back around to the bar- she wasn't desperate, per se, but the pond wasn't too big to fish in.
Ahzrukhal (if that wasn't a fucking mouthful to say) had seemed most...eager...for her help. The job was simple: she was to meet with an associate of his and somehow persuade him to part with some high-shelf merchandise to then bring back for him to sell. The only issue? It was back the way she had come.
"I'm looking to stay local," she had stated, firmly. "If I could clear out of the ruins myself, I would've left by now."
"Oh, but that won't be a problem, smoothskin."
Now she was fumbling with her shit, trying to steady the shaking of her hands under the microscopic gaze of this ghoul that she didn't want to be within twenty feet of. He said nothing, however, as he stood there watching, waiting...seething.
"Okay," she huffed as she strapped the bag over one shoulder, adjusting the strap to her sledgehammer so it didn't squish her boobs so tightly. "I'm ready."
He gave her a once-over; it was as though he was witnessing the most pathetic thing he had ever seen in his entire existence. It deflated whatever sort of little self-esteem she had clung to. Without a word, he spun around on his heel and began to walk off without her, not even turning his head to ensure she was following.
She kept her distance, eyeing the way he parted those from his path without even meaning to. He was somehow more imposing from behind than he was facing her- his broad shoulders and deep, grooving muscles rippled under the leather of his jacket with every step he took, his abnormally long stride leaving her well behind in the dust.
"Hey, smoothskin!"
She turned around to the sight of Winthrop giving a little half-jog to intercept her before she made her way out the door. He held up her Pip-Boy, bestowing it back with a grin.
"Told you it was an easy fix," he rasped.
A knob was flicked, and the screen buzzed that beautiful, emerald glow that made her heart thump pleasingly inside her chest. Good as fucking new.
"Thank you, Winthrop." She smiled brightly under her ballcap, not wasting any more time in securing her lifeline and extra appendage back to its rightful place.
The ghoul gave a bashful chuckle, rubbing at the back of his head. "I could show you how I fixed it, uh, sometime, you know, so in case it goes out again, you could...uh..." He shrugged, now entirely flustered. "Maybe over a drink? Or two?"
The offer came completely out of left field, and she was sure the hot rise to her face betrayed her. Before she could even consider her reply, a set of strong fingers wrapped around her arm and nearly pulled her out the door.
"We are leaving," Charon growled. He dropped his void expression for cold ire, coming between her and Winthrop with an aura of assertive dominance. "Now."
He then slammed the entrance to Underworld shut directly in the ghoul's face.
"Ow-ow!" Evelyn yelped as she was tugged along, tripping over her own feet down the steps. For the first time since she had met the big ghoul, she felt her own anger bubble up and spill forth. She jerked her arm back to her side, mildly relieved that he let her go. "God, I was coming! That was so rude!"
Charon rounded over her, slapping the fury from her soul with a look of utter animosity. "Do not waste my time." He then prowled off across the concourse, again not even peering over his shoulder to ensure her proximity to him.
The ghoul sentry just outside looked up from grinding her heel over the butt of her cigarette, too stunned to speak as the duo went about their way. Evelyn felt nervous from her reaction of terrified surprise- apparently, Charon didn't make many friends.
They skirted around some rubble, out of sight from the Brotherhood sentries as they began to backtrack the way she had come from initially. She halted at the top of the metro steps, and the ghoul paused at the bottom as he failed to hear her footfalls behind him.
She fiddled her fingers together nervously and bit her lip. "I didn't have the best experience through here."
The ghoul merely stared at her for a moment, and then continued on inside. When she finally followed, she was equal parts relieved and disappointed that he was waiting for her just past the gate, his shotgun in his hands and bright orbs giving any indication he had a face in the pitch-black void.
"Stay close," he ordered.
She could only nod, keeping near enough she could smell his heavy musk. It was pretty potent, and while it necessarily wasn't a bed of roses, it wasn't exactly unpleasant, either. It gave her some sense of security in the knowledge that she wasn't alone in this.
A skittering in the shadows behind them made her jump nearly ten feet in the air. The ghoul instantly wrapped an arm around her, smothering her galloping heartbeat with his tantalizing body heat and rugged skin brushing against her cheek.
"Quiet," he rasped in a low voice, the vibration from his chest buzzing her spine. He then began to shuffle them forward with careful steps, avoiding the assortment of trash to minimize their presence.
She was completely blind, allowing him to take absolute control while she focused on slowing her breathing. The great beat of his chest pulsated against her steadily like a war drum; his thick fingers occasionally twitched along their spot at her waist. After they came out on the other side unscathed (with no visit from that degenerate flasher) she looked down at the muscled forearm snugged across her chest, and realized she had her hands anchored around it, her fingers digging so firmly in the exposed muscle it made the veins slightly bulge.
"Sor-" The ghoul dropped his arm and stepped away before she could finish. "...ry."
He simply gave a nod of his head to continue.
The plaza had drastically deescalated from the previous day. Bodies, random limbs, smashed heads splattered on the pavement...she had never seen so much carnage before, and it kept her distracted rather than focusing on where she placed her feet. A solid wall was bumped into; she muttered an ow and rubbed at her nose as she looked up.
Charon's head was nearly twisted around on his shoulders, glaring down at her with a forehead-creasing scowl.
Freaky.
Sorry, she mouthed.
His head slowly turned back to a normal vertebrae position, and he carefully leaned out from his spot to survey the scene. Without turning back to look, he reached a hand behind himself to tug her forward, pushing her into a brisk walk as they traveled quickly through the empty courtyard. The beat of heavy footsteps made him abruptly pull her around a corner, and when it continued towards them, he pushed her up some stairs and barricaded them inside a Pre-War townhome. He shut the door without so much as making a single sound, and they listened with rapt attention as the super mutant lumbered on by, entirely ignorant of the prey just lingering inside.
Evelyn released a loud sigh, snapping Charon's eyes at her.
He closed the distance between them and rammed a finger in her face. "You are loud," he hissed.
Evelyn blinked in surprise- this was the sneakiest she has ever been!
"No, I'm not," she argued.
"Yes, you are."
"Well I didn't hear anything."
"Because you do not listen," he rasped matter-of-factly. Before she could continue to quarrel with him, he propped the door back open with tedious slowness, his eyes unblinking as he scoped for possible danger. "It is clear."
Before Evelyn could even register what he had said, she was already being yanked back out, his hand not releasing its unforgiving pressure as he pulled her toward the underground tunnels.
He held out his shotgun before his chest, briefly checking the stock before eyeing her doubtfully. "Where is your gun?"
She crossed her arms and avoided his stare. "...I don't have one." The minutes passed and he said nothing, and she was about to defend her reasoning until he continued without her.
The first raider had been caught with his dick fished out of his pants, pissing in a corner with his back arched and legs shaky.
Evelyn went to bypass quietly around, but the ghoul propped his weapon over one shoulder, crept up from behind, and swiftly wrapped a muscled arm around his neck, taking ahold of his entire face in one palm and twisting it with frightening power. There was a sickening crack, and he let the body drop.
She turned her head away when the face of the bent-neck man stared at her, almost accusingly; those glass eyes were sure to haunt her dreams with all the others.
"I will go ahead." Charon didn't look at her. "Wait here."
She listened to the grotesque screaming and braying of gunfire- the corpse was kicked over, his face left forever to drown in his own piss.
Well, when she ever needed to get back home, at least the tunnels were cleared. Charon damn near upended every table, blasted through every rodent, and chucked a grenade into a room where some raiders were seated playing cards.
Evelyn brought up the rear (about two miles away) and pilfered caps, drugs, and whatever she could deem valuable enough to sell. She must've taken too long, however, for the ghoul was suddenly at her side like some vengeful spirit, the loathing on his face forcing her to move.
Her bag jingled as she walked, and when they exited Tepid Sewers to greet the steadily setting sun, she (halfway) considered just making the rest of the trip to Megaton herself. What the hell would he do? Stop her? It's not like he was enjoying this much himself-
"I will drag you back," he rasped suddenly. He had witnessed her longing gaze in the direction across the river. "Do not make me. It will be...unpleasant."
She whirled on him, genuinely shocked...and afraid. "Are you serious? What? Why?"
"I am to get you to Dukov's safely and then return to Underworld."
"Maybe I don't want to go back to Underworld," she reasoned.
"That is between you and Ahzrukhal," he said rather dully, as though the conversation no longer interested him. "I will carry out my orders. We will go back."
...o-kay. Evelyn noticed his hands were clenched into tight fists, as though he was struggling with himself not to swing at something.
"Do you even like working for him?" she probed. "No offense, but he sounds like a dick."
Here he raised a single brow muscle, his permanent frown intensifying. He didn't answer the question, but rather stomped on past toward a fortified building she hadn't attempted at snooping around previously. He raised a fist, pounded it on the doorframe twice, and then leaned against a pillar with his arms folded in wait.
She shuffled on the balls of her feet a few times, directing his attention, but he ultimately ignored her.
The door opened, and they stepped inside.
"Eh, back so soon, clown shoes?"
A very thick accent Evelyn couldn't place greeted them as she blinked through the dim lighting. The face of an older, bald-headed man took in hers as she came around the side, and she instinctively hid back behind the ghoul's bulk.
"Hey now, sweetcheeks, don't be shy, let me get a good look at you!" he yelled in a boisterous voice, his hand slipping past to grab at her.
Charon intercepted the advancement with swift reflexes, taking ahold of the drunken perp's forearm and twisting it around with brutish force.
"Ah, holy shit-!"
The ghoul leaned down slightly, his muscles flexing as he spoke. "Do. Not. Touch."
"Ow-ow-okay, okay-!" Charon kept twisting, and he let out a small scream when there was an audible pop! "I got it! Hands off! Ahh!"
Charon finally released him with a hard shove backward, satisfied with his understanding of the situation. He then relaxed his hands to his sides and turned his head, his eyes glowing strangely as he motioned her forward with a jut of his chin.
Evelyn licked her lips, self-consciously trying to keep herself as small as possible. "Um, hi-hi. Ahzrukhal sent me-?"
"Yeah?" His entire flirty nature went downright sour. He rubbed at his arm, glaring at the indifferent ghoul now standing like a statue beside her. "What the fuck for? I paid for my shipment already."
"Uh." She fleetingly looked up to Charon for some sort of verbal help, but he just appeared bored and apathetic to her cause. "Something about Rosewalda liquor...?"
The man seemed to actually see her for the first time, and then burst out laughing. It rang around the walls, drawing the eyes of some scantily clad women from the second floor. Evelyn blinked at their lack of modesty and then swept her eyes around the room. Bottles of booze, canisters of Jet, wet sheets...
She took another step closer to the ghoul, now extremely uncomfortable.
"He better have a shitload of caps! So, baby, pay up! I want to see that fucking money!"
Evelyn dumbly shook her head. "He...he didn't give me any..."
"Oh? You weren't expecting it for free, now?" His eyes made a slow rove down her frame. "Maybe...we can work something out, huh?"
The implication made her flush hotly, and at that very moment, she felt incredibly stupid. That bastard bartender knew exactly what he had sent her here for...her abashment burned into a fiery whirl of wrath.
"Look," she snarled, taking a step forward from the safety of Charon's shadow. "I'm not going to be doing...that...there's got to be something else. It's just some fucking booze."
He again laughed, wheezing so hard he began to spray spit in the air. "Just some fucking booze," he chuckled to himself. "You know what, you're alright in Dukov's books, baby-" He quickly stopped from coming any closer when Charon began to growl. "Let me get you a drink, and we can talk about this something else."
He threw her a cheeky grin, and she glanced up for the ghoul's suggestion. Nothing. He was too busy staring at the extended hand being offered for her to take, as though he would sink his teeth into it at any moment.
She steeled her nerves, and forcibly relaxed her arms down against her sides. She did need this job.
"Okay," she said. "Just one drink."