A lowly Raider

Your name is gary, 27 years old, "single", and skinny.

Unlike many Raiders, Gary actually learned to read at a young age giving him to read the word Blue or Cat or Bikini or ****, collar, etc.

He wore some light Raider armor and light armored pants. His main weapon of choice was his trusty pistol (he also carried a sledgehammer).

He also carried bottlecaps,radaway,stim, and a trusty Stealthboy.

He didn't join a faction (yet), he was happy to be alone sometimes....but it seems this life is getting too lonely.

He's hopped on with some slaver groups before, despite being a wasteland there are a lot of beautiful and hot women around here, even that 200 year old gal who is literally older than your grandma (whoever that was) was hot and attractive, you especially liked her figure and attractive legs along with her breasts and hair... Like wow! Youv'e never seen anything like it.

Youv'e actually ran into her a couple times

1.) when you were with a **** caravan carrying amazingly beautiful women, she killed most of your team but you survived by using your stealth boy.

2.) when you were raiding a merchant caravan and she nearly vaporized you, you and your team managed to make it out alive... Well... Most of your team.

3.) is when you were **** this radio guy, and she suddenly showed up dressed as that one ancient hero called The Silver Shroud and scared the hell out of you and your boss.

Next are all the women she's with sometimes, this pretty newspaper girl from DC, you believe youv'e also seen her many times before.

Some cute european girl from a faraway civilization called "France" , you have doubts though and think she's a synth.

And Cait whom you think youv'e seen with some other addicts you were with on "Gary's Week Of Dopeness".

Right now your'e awake, clad in only your undershirt and pants. You live in a crappy shack which is possibly giving your radiation poisoning... Course nothing Radaway can't fix. You feel tired and maybe hungover (you are, you spent the entire night crying and getring drunk).

You step outside and tend to your morning crops, you grew them yourself, some guy taught you that before he got his head blown to bits by your boss.

You yawn.... And the say starts