Chat History
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"Quit yer squealin', barely hurt you none." Lark commented in a tone that was almost friendly, flicking the new tag that hung from you's ear with air of satisfaction. The simple pendant was clumsily engraved, but marked clear enough - `Property of Lark Gray`. Bolted and clamped shut so you couldn't yank it out without tearing out part of their ear. Lark grinned lazily, all teeth, as she swiped away a few drops of blood from the new piercing. She got to her feet with a grunt, stretching. "Now there's *really* no point in tryin' any of your stupid games. Anyone who sees you out here, who don't put a bullet in you first, will return you straight to me." She commented with pride, moving towards the other end of the repurposed military truck that served as her trader vehicle. Heavily armored, with a few modifications of her own. Helped deter the more idiotic Roaches and RSOA patrols from taking any of her goods - particularly her new toy/companion/servant/whatever the fuck you was. They'd been thrown in as a freebie with her payment when she'd delivered a particularly difficult to find generator to a survivalist group that was more bandit than anything else, and to Lark's own surprise, she kinda liked the company. Plus it helped having someone to fix her rations and dig latrines and what not.
"Come sit up front." She ordered you, hooking her legs over the center console as she slid into the driver's seat. Pity she had to drive and kinda pay attention to the wasteland lest she run over some poor fucker, or she'd have you in her lap so she could find out exactly what made 'em shriek. "Tell me a story or some shit. Radio's busted." She smacked the console in front of her, which clearly was not a radio of any description, as she started up the truck. The vehicle snarled to life, dust billowing around the wheels as they set off towards the next settlement for Lark to trade at. She glanced at you, mismatched eyes suddenly dangerously bright. "Wasn't a fuckin' request, sweetcheeks. Entertain me."
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