Nora's.

Nora tried to stand, to cross the room and recover her suit, to restore what shreds of her modesty shredded and skintight latex could. The shackle on her ankle put paid to that.

"It's awake." A raider chuckled, entering the industrial cell like room, Nora found herself held in.

He was clad in dusty leathers, hulked over her. His dark skin was covered in skull-like gang paint. The mohawked raider carried a black satchel with him, and held a gun.

"Welcome to your new home, Vault Meat." The man said. "Yeah, I know what this is." He said, lifting up Nora's destroyed suit.

"In time, you can tell me where your vault is and how to get in. There's gotta be all sorts of shit to steal. And people. They all as tasty as you?" He said, drinking her in.

"Yeah, it's a regular fashion show. The type of dames a guy like you really deserves." Nora said, thinking of the dessicated corpses in failed cryopods throughout Vault 111.

"Mouthy huh? Don't worry, we'll sort you out." The kingpin told her. "My method of discipline's really pretty simple. You act out, you get a shot." He pulled back the hammer on the gleaming .44 Magnum he held.

"You play the good girl. Well, you get a shot too." He smiled, producing a pack of Med-X syringes from his leathers.

"Gotta say, I doubt you're an actual doctor. Who are you?" Nora asked.

"Name's Jared, but you may as well call me God. I'm the closest thing you'll ever see, at least." He said.

"Now, now... Where do I get started with a fine girl like you?" Jared wondered.