Fallout 63 - Conor's Prospects

(contains humans, male to female TG, implants, and humping)

Art by Dracojeff

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Fuck yeah! A vault!

Talk about an epic find after two weeks of fruitless wasteland prospecting. That was like finding a pirates horde in the ocean. If Vaults were good for anything, it was old tech and scrap. Potentially hundreds of caps worth in salvage laid entombed collecting dust.

The fact its giant gear shaped door was left open dulled Conor's joy somewhat. A quick peek inside confirmed the inner room was a bit rusty from exposure. Lots of things could have wandered in and never come out over the decades.

Good thing the young man had enough buckshot to take down a super mutant. Long as there were not more of them, he should have been fine. Yeah, that was the logic he went with while stalling to adjust square glasses over his emerald eyes.

Everything was quiet when Conor finally worked up the nerve to step into the vault. That was a bit reassuring since wild creatures did not care for the art of stealth. Of course, his boots thunking on rusty metal floors tried to counter this with nerve-shaking echoes. Conor moved as silently as he could to swing his combat shotgun off its back strap just in case.

SSCRREEEEEEE!!

If only the rusty, half-opened doors could open a bit quieter. Before Conor could hope for the best, a chorus of chittering stirred up from the rooms beyond. He managed to squeeze his way through just in time to see radroaches poking their heads out of various openings down the entrance hallway. Looked like he had stirred a whole nest. A good dozen of the greasy bugs rushed down to meet this fresh meal that had wandered into their lair.

KH-CHI! THWOOM!

A good round of buckshot made an instant slurry of the leading radroaches. The resulting backlash of broken insect guts made the rest of the swarm slow their advance. Conor could not help grinning smugly. It would take a lot more than some lame bugs to make him concerned about wasteland survival.

KH-CHI! Tink…

Granted a sudden gun jam would add some concern to the situation.

"Son of a-SHIT!!"

If Conor got out of here, he was going to have many choice vulgarities for the local gunsmith. 'Top quality repairs' his big fat ass. For now, though, he would have to deal with the two radroaches that got close enough to tackle him.

Conor's head slammed into the metal door as he was pushed down. Eye vision spiraled in opposite directions, making it hard to tell which bug chewed on his forearm or clawed his chest. Old world riot gear would not hold out long against sharp bug jaws.

The rest of the swarm was quick to pile on, further pinning Conor to the ground. Thrashing grew wilder to little effect. Damn roaches were big bastards. It was impossible for Conor to get his gun raised for a clear shot.

BBBRREEEEEEEEEE!!

Given his head trauma, Conor was sure that grinding metal noise was his ears failing. Suddenly a radroach squealed before spontaneously exploding its guts across the man's face.

That startled its comrades out of their feeding frenzy but could not spare them a similar fate. Apparently, someone brought a buzzsaw to a bug fight. Swift, precise strikes soon had the hallway painted in bug innards and broken exoskeleton.

Conor was not about to knock a rescue. He just wished to not be left wearing bug guts as well.

"Oh my!"

Conor propped his head up to see a giant robotic eye hovering inches away. It's stalk connected to a large round body hovering off the ground by a jet engine. Several more 'arms' led to clasping hands holding an array of tools, including a very messy buzzsaw.

"I say, good sir. You should try to remain calm. You appear to be bleeding profusely."

Conor sat up in disregard of Mr. Handy's advice. It was clear the damn bugs had ripped some sizable holes in his bulletproof vest. Almost all of them were leaking a vital red liquid. "Oh, yeah. I have every reason to remain calm now."

"That's the spirit!!" The robot grabbed a surprised Conor with two of its sharp pincers and forced him to stand. "Not to worry. Vault 63 has not been with an overseer for decades, but many of our special facilities are still in peak working condition. We can have you patched up and refitted in a jiffy."

Claws remained firmly clamped onto Conor giving him little choice but to be dragged further into the vault. He had to fight a need to vomit several times thanks to the concussion. At least he hoped it was the concussion.

"So...what do you do here mister robot?"

"Doctor!" Mr. Handy replied curtly. "Doctor Maximum Pain. Now don't let the name fool you. I'm not actually a doctor. The last visitors thought it made me sound cool."

Conor blinked slightly out of sync. His vision was getting blurry around the edges. "So your name is Maximum Pain?"

"Don't worry. I'm a professional."

"A professional what?!"

"Exactly!"

The robot suddenly seemed less pristine than it looked. In fact, Conor noticed his surroundings were getting less rusty the deeper they went. They probably had the plethora of other Mr. Handy's to thank for that. Over a dozen of the octopus robots floated about the atrium looking for any tasks to perform. None of them paid any mind to the half-dead human getting hoisted along to a side passage.

After a few more tunnels and a harrowing flight of stairs, they seemed to have reached their final destination. By that point, Conor was sure most of his blood was on him rather than in him. It created a significant lack of brain power to fully appreciate the room Doctor Pain had brought them to.

"Not to worry! Not to worry!" The robot sang in his synthesized British accent. A pair of large sheers added a snipping melody by cutting away large pieces of Conor's riot gear. "Here at Vault Sixty-Three we not only strive to protect people against the end of the world but have the latest in reconstruction technology to make sure you enter this new world as the person you were meant to be."

"Um...what?" Had Conor not been dying he might have been upset his six hundred bottle cap outfit had been reduced to scrap. Not as much as the fact a strange robot named 'Pain' had stripped him naked in the process.

Doctor Pain proceeded to gently push Conor's wobbling body over. The man's naked butt landed in a prepared metallic chair, only having enough feeling to register it as colder than himself. Apparently, it had wheels because Doctor Pain gripped hold of its armrests to push his charge across the room.

The walls were aligned with many box chambers that looked similar to a sauna device Conor once saw in an old-world hotel. Each looked like they could comfortably seat a single person with a hole at the top for their head to remain exposed. Many had their sliding fronts left open or were broken off, showing a bunch of electrical and surgical wirings definitely not meant for steam relaxation.

"Lucky for you we still have over a dozen Sixty-Three Machines still in operation," Doctor Pain explained as Conor was wheeled into one of these open boxes. "We've tried our best to keep them in working order, but even a vault has limited spare parts. Doesn't help when new arrivals 'freak out' as the saying goes and break everything. Incidentally, I've taken the liberty of confiscating your weapons until you are ready to leave. Any questions?"

"Mmrrpphlle?" Conor had many things to question; like why they did not just jam him with stimpaks to stop the bleeding.

"Oh, so good to see such enthusiasm!"

Doctor Pain floated back so the boxes panels could properly close around Conor's body. It's giant eye flashed in two rapid beeps initiating a soft hum from somewhere deep in the chambers hardware.

Conor was not sure what happened next giving his state of delirium. The hum mounted into a defining roar, followed by the whirls of mechanical gears. Prickling occurred all across his skin which was being prodded by the internal devices of his cocoon.

Once it seemed to be satisfied prodding it's latest subject, the machine flashed a green light so bright it shined through the cracks in Conor's porthole. He did not even realize he had been blinded. Noise deafened what remained of his hearing with rapid clanks, with the occasional slosh or hissing of materials transferred into his body.

Sealing up his bug bites was child's play for such a device, for it was accomplished within seconds of starting its process. Then the real work began on Conor's body. Needles emerged from panels all over to make minor injections in various delicate areas. It then took a break to blast his face with more excess light, filling his chamber with intense radiation levels in rapid spurts.

For Conor, the process was like slowly sobering out of a drunken stupor. With his wounds healed it was quick work to get the blood flowing back into his brains. Whatever the machine pumped him with responded to the radiation and helped reshape his internal structure amazingly well. Next thing he knew everything felt like a million caps, and then almost superhuman. He tried to glance down, but could obviously not see what the machine was doing for his 'rebirth.' There was just a lot of popping and stretching as muscles tensed or bones reshaped.

If anything he felt an odd sensation of swelling in many areas. It left him feeling a bit bloated.

DING!!

Conor barely managed to register the signal of completion before his chambers panels flung open in a loud hiss. Excess steam of a questionably green nature clouded the area around him in a blinding aura. Regardless, he knew immediately there was nothing to worry about. Conor jumped onto his feet feeling buzzed enough to go for a jog across the wasteland. Arms reached up in a pleasured moan to stretch out the many rejuvenated muscles in his body. Each little pop sent a shiver of pleasure that made his hips jiggle. Talk about a fantastic healing machine. As Conor pondered why anyone would abandon such amazing Vault tech his hands came back to rest upon his chest to check on his radroach wounds.

And then he pondered why his chest was so soft…

And pushed his hands far away from his shoulders…

Conor swallowed the lump in his throat and looked down. One of many choices he came to regret this day. Projecting from his pecs were two plush mounds wrapped in the most perfect peach skin he had ever seen. Not a blemish or scar decorate Conor, much less stretch marks from all the bloated fat and silicone injections. Fingers absently brushed the puffy pink nipples atop them, making her body shiver in pleasure.

The subtle motion alone made Conor aware of a lot of things 'off' about his body. Hands shot down to his hips to find them jutting out into an epic spread. A few quick squeezes confirmed his rear also stuck out for miles with great, juicy cheeks. Waist caved in to further exaggerate a prominent hourglass figure, while he noticed his exploring hands had become thin and refined. Even his nails were long and well manicured. It was a body any woman would be jealous of.

Any...woman…

A sudden realization made Conor's hands fly to his crotch.

Every Mr. Handy in the vault stopped to regard the shrill scream that echoed through their vault hallways. But when nothing followed it, they returned to their pre-programmed tasks.

"What the fuck!?" Conor's unnaturally perky breasts bounced between heavy breaths. He rubbed his crotch, again and again, unable to find a trace of his manhood. However, the tender nub and slit resting in their place did not mind the attention. Before long they were getting a bit moist making it hard for Conor to stop.

"Oh, bother. Not another freakout."

The annoying British accent of Doctor Pain helped mellow Conor's confused hormones a bit. It still took some willpower to pry away from his clit. Trying to focus on anger for the floating robot helped.

"What the actual fuck did you do to me?"

The eyestalk bobbed once as if glancing over Conor's perfectly curved form. "Why, we have successfully augmented your rebirth. Here at Vault sixty-three, we don't only consider your safety, but future prospects of repopulation. Thanks to an advanced procedure involving excessive hormone and implant injections amplified by a healthy dose of lethal radiation you have become a fully functional female."

Conor's eye twitched. It was understandable why they took his shotgun. "WHY!?"

"In accordance to Vault protocol seven, section four, we are required to keep an even number of gender among our residents, with favor towards females. Since there are only two confirmed residents in the vault, it would be impractical breeding to leave both males."

"That's... I hate you so much right now."

"We get that a lot post-op. But just wait until we get you in some high heels. If I may be so bold, you are the most perfectly voluptuous result we've ever had."

The thought of strutting settlements in high heels did excite Conor, but he forced it aside for later. Instead, he distracted himself by feeling along his neck. An Adam's apple still pushed out his front leaving his voice as masculine as ever. Hell, he still had stubble from days of not shaving.

"So why do I still sound like a guy?"

"An oversight in the Sixty-Three machines design prevents augmentation of the head. Vault-tec apologies for any inconvenience this may cause in applying cosmetics and other accessories. On the bright side, ninety-two percent of female subjects experience a loss of facial hair within a month of their irradiated estrogen treatment."

"Makeup!?" A flash of Conor in lipstick and blush made his loins a bit wetter. "N-no! I mean, that's...uh...wait, did you just say someone else is in here!?"

"Correct! He is a prime subject for testing your breeding functions. Shall I direct you to the cafeteria where they are indulging in some Nuka Cola?"

"Testing my breeding…? N-no that's not...I mean, a fuck!" A twinge ran deep into Conor's loins, forcing his plump thighs closed. Much as he tried it was impossible to get his mind off another man's dick. It would probably feel so good filling up his aching tunnel right now.

"Ma'am? You seem to be experiencing a rising heart rate. It appears your hormone exposure might have spiked."

"You think!?" Conor bit his lip starting to hop his weight between smaller womanly heels. Fighting his new biology's calling seemed a lot less fun than the alternative. "Just take me to something fuckable before I break you."

Doctor Pain made a noise imitating a dejected sigh, but turned to lead Conor back into the vault. "Why must post-transformation arousal be so violent?"

By the time they got up to the living area, Conor's thighs were drenched in arousal. Thankfully Doctor Pain said nothing after granting him access to the dining rooms. He might have ripped off the damn eyestalk to silence it.

It was easy to find a living person in this ocean of empty seats. A dark-skinned man with coal black hair had taken up a booth halfway down from the entrance. Apparently, this was not an experienced wasteland scavenger. Not only was his back to Conor, but he had also saved the trouble of removing his scrap armor and guards. Poor chump looked half awake chugging an old beer in a t-shirt and underwear.

Conor still tried to muffle his footsteps on approach. A task he failed while also keeping his thighs tight together to contain the blaze in his cunny. Even so by the time his victim realized someone else was in the room their head became ensnared between Conor's massive tits.

Oh god, just feeling the silicon shifting under the skin made Conor's knees buckle. He quickly saved himself a fall by draping supple arms around a shocked man. Putting his full weight on their back at least appeared as aggressive flirting.

"Hey there, sexy."

The man managed to pull away enough to look over his shoulder. This almost got his face slammed into a boob, which mildly disappointed Conor. After taking a moment to consider the soft mounds pressing into him the man's golden eyes glanced up to meet Conor's sparkling emeralds.

"What...who the...are you a guy!?"

Conor exhaled into a frown. Talk about crushing to have a man's voice ruin your presentation. The only reasonable response seemed to heft up both mammaries back into this dudes face.

"These look pretty masculine to you, boy?"

"I'm thirty-four…"

"Not my point here." Conor hefted the man out of his booth with both hands. He was not expecting such strength from slimmer model arms.

That was not what surprised the unaltered man. "You...you're…"

"Sexy?" Conor offered hopefully.

"I was going to say naked. Hey!"

"Oh, well, that's true too." Conor shrugged as he pulled down the man's underwear, letting them pool around their ankles. "You got a name, traveler?"

"D-Desmond? Mmh!" The darker man twitched watching Conor gently cup his exposed junk in one hand. Not that he made any notion of disapproval at this gorgeous woman's aggressive actions. "A-are you saying you're a resident heee...oohh!"

"Nope! Just got here myself." Conor's male-ish voice giggled in a very girly way. He was way more interested in seeing Desmond's cock hardening almost as soon as it flopped out. A few gentle hand massages dotted with kisses helped stiffen things up to an amazing size. "You can call me Conor. Now, Desmond, we're both mature wasteland explorers…"

"You're talking to my dick."

"...and I've had a very stressful day. So you can either help me relieve some tension…" Conor paused to give Desmond's balls a firmer squeeze, making the man yelp. "Or I get so ruff you'll be spending the afterglow overdosing on Stimpaks. Got it?"

"Y-yes, sir, I mean, ma'am!"

"Good boy!" With a gentle push, Conor forced Desmond to lay across the booth's table. They both ignored the thunks of recently emptied soda bottles rolling off. Desmond's full erection becoming enveloped by Conor's deep cleavage was far more interesting to both of them. "Wow, you're a big boy too~!"

"T-thanks?"

Conor crawled atop Desmond in record time. The dining table creaked under their combined weight but managed to remain standing. At least Vault-tec built sturdy stuff outside his curvy ass. Before he could reconsider the situation, Conor leaned in until their lips connected.

A move that certainly surprised Desmond judging from his muffled gasp. Conor feared he might have gone a step too far until he gasped in mutual shock. Larger, strong hands clamped onto his tits in a hard squeeze that elicited a fresh spasm inside his vagina.

Desmond began to knead the mounds together in a circular motion. Palms rolled the silicon filled skin like dough up and outwards tugging Conor's puffy nipples in opposite directions on the way down. He would let them drop in a perky bounce before pushing palms back into Conor's flesh to repeat the process.

Each rotation got the most adorable groans out of Conor. He had no idea why but the surgery had enhanced his nerves tenfold. Never in his life had he experienced anything as sensual as having his implants touched. They were so pliable it made him jiggle and bounce to almost every motion. The stupid robot had mentioned something about radiation exposure, which was too much of a buzzkill to dwell on. Instead, Conor's fat-laden rear wiggled as he focused on sucking Desmond's face.

Neither wanted to admit the kissing was the least thrilling part of this rodeo. Since both were suffering a case of the 'unshaven' after days of wandering the wastelands, beard stubble scratched at their chins each time their lips met. Leave it to Vault-tec to make Conor a woman in every way except above the shoulders. He just hoped that psycho robot had not exaggerated about the eventual facial hair loss.

It still was not enough to deter either of their lust. Desmond continued squishing Conor's boobs harder and harder together. Conor reciprocated by grinding his cunny along the front of Desmond cock, lathering it in slick juices.

Eventually, Conor had to pull away from their game of tongue wrestling. He bit his lower lip glancing around his ample cleavage to better straddled Desmond's hips. There was a lot of doubt his new equipment could take it, countered by a strong calling of hormones that could not be ignored. Taking a deep breath of resolve Conor slowly lowered his plump butt to let his pussy lips get speared by Desmond's cock.

"Aaahhhh haaah! Oh, fuuuuuck!" There was a tinge of pain, followed by the most fantastic sense of fulfillment Conor ever felt. His whole body jiggled in a violent mini-spasm that made his ass slam the rest of the way onto Desmond's balls. Not only did he take it all in, but Conor relished the way it stretched every muscle to its limit.

"Mmmmhh! That's tight," Desmond agreed.

Conor felt Desmond's hands roam around the hourglass curves of his womanly body. Eventually, they came to rest upon the crest of her bodacious backside, caressing the soft fat injected cheeks with gentle tugs. It took a moment before Conor felt comfortable enough bucking his hips to the inviting motions. They worked themselves into a rhythm, Desmond's hips thrust up to meet Conor's undulating against the rod inside him.

SHCK-THWP! SHCK-THWP! SHCK-THWP! SHCK-THWP!

"Oh gawd! Mmmgh! Aah aah aah! Fuck fuuuuuck!"

Conor could barely think straight with his already worked arousal surging to new heights. Grinding against it could not compare to having a cock burrowed inside. Every internal muscle squeezed to milk this man's thick sword for all it was worth. His hips rocked wildly against its hilt filling him with the long-awaited sense of completion.

"Ooh! Oooh! Yeah, that's...nngggh! J-just like that!" Desmond seemed all too happy to have his stick wiggled also. His eyes had rolled back against his forehead with a dopey smile. Hands no longer stroked Conor's rear but sunk hard into the soft skin for dear life.

An evil grin crossed Conor's face. Just for a bit of fun, he gave a harder grind against Desmond's cock before dropping forward. Hands slammed onto the table near either side of Desmond's head, before his face suddenly became smothered in Conor's hanging tits. That seemed to snap the darker person's mind out of euphoric bliss. At least enough for him to accept this offering with gusto. Conor watched the mesh of black locks brush around her cleavage and groaned feeling a rough tongue alternating laps at his nipples.

"Mmmhh!? Haah aah!?!" Conor shuddered at something deep inside him convulsed, only to leave behind a feeling of mounting tension. Oh god, it was actually happening, and the thought made him hungrier for it. Humps continued at an increasing pace. Conor began undulating his whole body against Desmond. His large rear would shoot up to withdraw from Desmond's cock only to slam back down against the hilt. The feeling of their skin rubbing together excited dozens of hypersensitive nerves all the way from toes to boobs. Not to say anything less about the way Desmond's hands clawed at her back.

"Aaagh! Huff huff! C-Conor...ooohhh fuckfuckfuck!" Desmond tried desperately to look up into the amazing woman riding him. There was just no easy way with their breasts constantly swaying back and forth against his face. Conor still knew what he was trying to point out. Desmond's cock was throbbing harder inside Conor's tight shaft, becoming very rigid. "Conor...should I really...inside you. I mean...Haahaa...I'm about too...C-c-c...NNNGGGHH!!"

"Ah fuck YES!" Conor's hands balled into fists as he cried out with Desmond. The thick cock began to spasm in several strong bursts that filled him with an amazing warmth. Conor's humps grew wild, sending excess seamen splashing out of his cunt across both their thighs."Mmh! Mmh! Hell yeah! Give me it all! Gah haa haa! AAHH GAH!"

Desmond filling him up helped propel Conor to his own peek. Hips slammed one final time atop Desmond's balls sending a ripple that turned into a tidal wave across Conor's body. He arched his back crying out into the ceiling of artificial sun lamps as his hips shuddered in violent butt jiggles. Inner muscles clenched and released in rapid succession to draw what remained of Desmond's load inside him.

That seemed to get another squirt out of Desmond. His arms hugged Conor around the waist, refusing to let go for several seconds. As the explosion of their fucking died, so to did Conor's strength. Hands and knees buckled sinking their whole weight onto the exhausted man beneath them. Unfortunately, a frantic slapping against both tits snapped Conor out of a complete daze.

"S-sorry!" she cried out sheepishly sitting upright again. The removal of her tits from Desmond's face allowed the man to finally gasp for a desperate breath of fresh air. Conor decided to use this moment of recovery to gently remove herself from Desmond's deflating dick and settle into one of the booths seats to enjoy some afterglow.

Even so, Conor found her hands absently massage her chest to make the feeling last. She glanced down at her curvy body with a detached sense of satisfaction. Since this was going to be her life outside the vault, it seemed natural to think of herself as a woman now. She had just had her first orgasm as one after all. The wasteland had far worse fates to the unlucky.

A cough suddenly reminded Conor of the half-naked man still laying on the table before her. Desmond tilted his head towards her in a half-smile, a bit blissful from their romp as well. "So...you seeing anybody?"

Conor blinked once before bursting into a fit of giggles. "Well, it wouldn't hurt to have an extra gun or two around. You certainly know how to handle a rough situation."

"So happy I could meet the standards," Desmond said with a childish raspberry. He rose up onto his elbows frowning at the mess their mixed-sex juices left on his lap. "Don't suppose this place got a shower or something we can clean up in?"

Conor started to speak but suddenly got an idea.

A really stupid idea...

"Sure," she almost sang as a wicked smile crossed her lips. "In fact, you should really check out these sauna's the robots took me to before I met you."

* * *

"Damn bitch! That was the second worst sauna I've ever been in. Thanks so much!"

"Mmh!" Conor grinned, but she turned curiously to the brown-skinned woman dressing across the room. "Second!?"

"Forget it!" Desmond pulled her vault suit up a pair of outstanding legs but had to struggle to squeeze her bloated booty into the tight spandex. "God damn, does that machine have to make every girl so...round?"

"Probably? I mean, those robots do seem to have a few wires crossed." Conor finished strapping on her boots, which for some reason only came in very high heels for her foot size. "Honestly, I'm a bit curious what those things do to the women."

Desmond scoffed but then paused slipping her arms into her suits sleeves. "Man, why is imagining a hunk with a girls head both weird and arousing?"

"Mmh!" Conor swallowed wishing that mental image had not been projected into her head. Now her own crotch got a little damp.

Still, it was nice the new friends took to their tricked changes rather well. Granted a heavy dose of hormones and two more rounds of sex had left Desmond incredibly mellow to it all. At least they were not going to have to wander alone in their gender bent lives.

Too bad Vault Sixty-Three did not provide ideal amenities for someone experiencing 'rebirth.' As Conor watched Desmond zip up her vault suit, the darker woman clearly grunted with disapproval. All they could find concerning fashion were the standard snug jumpsuits, redesigned by some corporate wack job. The zipper only stopped just above the navel with a button-up collar for extra fastening. This left a massive cleft down the middle that exposed the entity of their cleavage.

Conor tried to take solace in that she at least got the thicker of the two hourglass figures. Although Desmond seemed to compensate this by being a foot taller, even with them both in high-heeled boots.

"Well, better than naked I guess," Desmond mused more to herself while trying to tug the chest window of her suit closed. All it really did was make her dark mounds bounce and bulge a little pushing it back apart. Hands rested on her wide hips in defeat before turning to Conor. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah, sure." Conor's heels echoed as she walked out of the room almost naturally used to such footwear.

Desmond could not say the same, having to use her boobs as fall cushions at least twice before they got to the atrium. There they gathered up backpacks full of whatever food looked appealing in the vaults old storage areas. Doctor Pain and the other Mr. Handy's were all too happy to supply the fresh women with weapons as well. Conor had been very grateful to be reunited with her trusty shotgun.

"Oof!" She was a lot less thrilled when they eventually stepped out the big gear door and into the blazing light of a burning sun. It was not welcoming to smell the irradiated dust of the wasteland once more. Having a big, bouncy friend exit the vault to join her side was comforting, however.

"So, you think it's okay to just leave that place as it is?" Desmond glanced back into the open vault ideally scratching her chin stubble. "Pretty much any idiot stumbling in is bound for one hell of a boob job."

"That's not so bad. You turned out pretty fantastic for it."

"Thanks!" Desmond straightened up to present her chest in a brief flash of pride. "I guess it would make a bit of an interesting story over drinks."

"And just think; if people starting getting too hands-on with our butts, we can tell them how easy it is to get rich scavenging this place."

Desmond burst out laughing, which faded into the irradiated winds as the pair began their long march towards the nearest settlement. "Yeah, we are so doing that!"