- Invitation Status
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Slow As Molasses
- Online Availability
- I'm an afternoon and 1am poster lmao
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Advanced
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Female
- Transgender
- Primarily Prefer Male
- Genres
- - Horror
- Paranormal
- Supernatural
- Biblical
- Sci Fi
- World War I II
- Roman / Greek
- 80s / 90s
- Romance
- Occult
Just move one inch to the left, get comfy, and wait. That's all Emily had to do tonight. She stared at the men, hustling around on the ground. She had been told by her employer that these were some raiders who were getting too close to his settlement. All she had to do was pull the trigger on the leader and get the hell out of there. But something felt different. Emily took her eye away for a moment, looking over her gun to see if she saw right. These men were dressed awfully nicely for Raiders. Her eye went back to the gun, her cheek resting on it as she aimed for the man dressed in black and white. He looked like the guy she was shown. He walked around like the leader. She didn't wanna question it, but she knew this was strange. But hell, there was a huge pile of caps waiting for her after this job. Enough to get her drunk enough to pass out in her bed.
With one quick pull of the trigger, Emily landed a bullet in the fat man's eye. She let go of her breath, hoping to pack up and run off the top of that building, but a couple of men spotted her. "Get her!" She heard yelling, "Shit." She hissed as she picked up the sniper, with no time to pack it away. She went to the metal stairs, but somehow the men were already making their way towards her. Emily looked around, there was a building close enough, right? She decided she had no choice. With a quick runup, Emily jumped off the side of the building and onto the other, just about. She slipped and her leg dragged across the end of the building. She pulled herself up and began running down the stairs.
She didn't stop running until she got into Goodneighbour. That's when the pain set in. She limped towards The Third Rail, pissed off that had happened. On the way she definitely figured out she had just put a bullet in one of the higher ranking triggermen. Fuck.
"The strongest thing you got, Charlie." Emily sat in the bar stool, shaking her leg to ease the pain. She was given a small glass of whiskey, "More like the strongest thing you can afford, Ma'am." Charlie joked. She scoffed before drinking. She looked to her side. A chair down was Mr. MacCready. A man with a lot in common, but they had never got to talking. They shared cigarette's and complaints, but never a proper conversation. It was a silent altruistic friendship. Or, could it be something else? Emily looked at him... That's it! She was never gonna be able to run from those triggermen, she was no marksman. But Mac was. Plus, she wanted to give her employer a piece of her mind for sending her out to do that, he'd be the perfect company. "Hey Mac, you got light?" She asked, before rummaging around in her bag for a cigarette, hoping to land the question on him.
@Cerulean
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