Tainted Love: It's a Wasteland, darlin'

Well, hello, darlin'

The Ghoul strolled through the dusty, chaotic streets of Junktown, his eyes scanning the remnants of a world that once was. His gait was casual, but his senses were sharp, ever-alert to the dangers lurking in the shadows. As he rounded a corner, he froze.

There she stood, the prettiest girl he had seen since the bombs fell. She was a vision in a pink frilly dress, the kind that belonged to a different era. Her style was Lolita, but there was nothing innocent about her. 

Her long, icy blonde hair cascaded down her back, framing a face with bright blue eyes and pale skin that seemed to glow in the dim light. A gun was strapped to her thigh, its presence a stark contrast to her delicate appearance.

He approached her, his voice a low, raspy drawl. "Well, ain't you a sight for sore eyes. What's a doll like you doin' in a place like this?"

She turned to him, those blue eyes locking onto his. There was a steely determination in her gaze that matched the weapon at her side.

"Name's Babydoll," she replied, her voice soft but firm. "What am I doing here? Let me think. Probably same as you. Stirring up some trouble."

The Ghoul tilted his head, studying her with a mix of curiosity and amusement. Against his better judgment, he found himself intrigued.

"Stirrin' up trouble, huh? Can't say I mind the company," he drawled, his voice carrying a hint of a smile. "What do you say, Babydoll? How 'bout we grab a drink and swap some stories?"

She raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "A drink, huh? You think you can handle my stories, Ghoul?"

He chuckled, a dry, raspy sound that carried a hint of warmth. "I reckon I've seen a thing or two. But somethin' tells me your tales might just top mine."

Babydoll glanced around the gritty streets of Junktown before nodding. "Alright, Ghoul. Lead the way. Let's see if you can keep up."

He gestured towards a run-down bar at the end of the street, its neon sign flickering sporadically. "There's a spot just up ahead. Ain't much, but the booze is strong."

As they walked side by side, the tension between them was palpable, a strange mix of wary alliance and mutual respect. The Ghoul couldn't help but steal glances at her, wondering what secrets lay behind those bright blue eyes.

His eyes scanned her flawless skin, the neckline of her pretty pink dress was plunging revealing her ample breasts. Every inch of her visible was perfect, unharmed. It made him question how long she had been on the surface. His first thought, she had come from a vault at some point, perhaps recently.

The Ghoul could feel himself wishing to see more of her, though he usually stayed clear of non ghouls for those sorts of desperate acts. His blood was filled radiation long with every fluid his body expelled. Normies couldn't handle what he had to give without resorting to radaway.

When they reached the bar, he pushed open the creaky door, letting her step inside first. The dimly lit room was filled with the smell of stale beer and smoke, but it felt oddly comforting.

They took a seat at a corner table, and The Ghoul signaled the bartender. "Two of your strongest," he ordered, before turning his attention back to Babydoll. "So, Babydoll, what's your story? What brought you to this hellhole?"

She leaned back in her chair, her eyes never leaving his. "My story, Ghoul? It's a long one. But I could ask you the same question."

The Ghoul raised his glass to her. "Just doing business, Babydoll. You know how it is.."

"To business," Babydoll grinned back at him, clinking their glasses together.

He took a sip, the burn of the liquor a welcome distraction. "So, Babydoll, you always pack heat in that fancy getup of yours?"