Starter // @codename-whisper
The air was beginning to cool as evening rolled in. Today had been uneventful. Archie sighed and leaned forward, looking into a cracked, dirty mirror. Wait, maybe he was dirty. Or he and the mirror were lacking. Whatever the case, his hand trailed over a damp rag, Fingers curled around the article of fabric, he began to scrub his face.
When Archie pulled the rag away, his cheeks were red, almost raw. He made a note to scrub a little gentler next time. His face was the same color as the slime that oozed out of Nuka Cola Cherry bottles. Archie knew he'd get little sleep tonight; there had been talk of someone wiping out Raiders left and right. He wouldn't want to get caught sleeping if someone pranced through his shack with a gun.
When he heard footsteps, he knew he probably wouldn't get any sleep at all. Maybe he'd be put six feet under. Taking his chances, he grabbed his baseball bat from beside the door and rushed outside. Someone was going through the duffel bag by the fire pit. Inhaling, he called out.
“ What the fuck do you think you're doing? This is private property. ”