Happiness is a warm gun

The night in the wasteland was dark and cloaked the ghoul as he had ventured to underworld. He only dared to travel under the cover of darkness now. Alone once again he sought out a man or woman capable of carrying his weight around and he had heard that underworld was the place to go.

A ghoul walking into the Ninth Circle was nothing out of the ordinary. Even though the bar and his employer had a sort of bad reputation, still it was the best (and probably most expensive) source of chems around the Mall. Even some smoothskins wandered in every once in a while, though they all left just as quick as they arrived.

The Courier simply waved Charon’s comment off. “You don’t like the look of any place, do ya?” she asked, trying to joke. It was odd, being followed around by a fellow who seemed so emotionless. She tried her hardest to be friendly with the big Ghoul, but had so far failed miserably. Poor guy… he was probably miserable hanging around with a gal like her.

Charon only hummed as a response, rolling his eyes a little as he kept close to her, cocking his gun as she slowly opened the door. She was sort of right, most of the wasteland to him was considered a potential danger zone to his employer, including cities and places other people might have called safe havens.

Charon didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to leave. If he got rid of the contract, Charon would still be his companion. Lone’s relief was imperceptible to the eye, but there. “Alright.” He drew a folded piece of paper from his belongings and held it up. It wasn’t the contract. The contract was at the bottom of his bag, encased in a small metal box. He was only keeping the contract as a fallback in case Charon tried to hurt himself, and wouldn’t unveil it unless he was unable to prevent Charon’s actions.

Charon only cocked a brow as the Wanderer pulled out the piece of paper, his muscles tensing up once again as his eyes noticed him pulling out the weapon.

Dare you to kiss Charon~

He licked his incisors, a nervous habit. There was more than one way to lose Charon and he didn’t want to experience any of them, but he also didn’t want Charon’s existence to rely on a piece of paper.

Charon's eyes kept watching the Wanderer closely, some of the tension in his body fading as he spoke, though what he said didn't really calm his nerves, nor that tightness in his gut that was starting to be quite the nuisance. 

The thought of Charon leaving the moment he removed the leverage of the Contract hurt, honestly, but he didn’t think that was the way Charon had meant it. He was, after all, loyal to the contract. Where the contract went, so would he, and the Wanderer wasn’t oblivious, he knew that loyalty was so deeply ingrained in Charon that getting past the initial ‘what the hell do I do’ would be difficult once it was gone.

Charon kept still as his companion rose to his feet aswell, his eyes darting between looking at him at the nearest wall, as his fists clenched at his sides. He didn't move away as  the Wanderer took a step closer, though the tension in his body was almost painfully obvious.

Otter looked back into Charons gaze, reciprocating the furrowed eyebrows, but still flashing his smile up at the grimacing, singed face in front of him.

A deep growl rumbled in the ghoul's chest, his glare practically piercing through the man standing before him. The more he spoke, the more he just wanted to punch him. If there was one thing that ticked Charon off, it was exactly the kind of guy Otter was.

"Slavery? in this 'sophisticated' place" he noted looking around at the ninth circle. His mask gave no indication on weather he approved or despised the notion. He spoke as if he as just stating a fact. He approached the ghoul and tilted his head, so he could better see out of some areas of the eye holes of his mask in some spots. He wanted a better look at him.

"Mhmm work for my employer. If ya try n kill 'bar-man', mhmm might have ta break those toothpicks ya have fer arms." the ghoul stated coldly, though the way he furrowed his brows indicated he wasn't too happy with this arrangement. But that's just how it worked.

Spooked was an understatement. Mac’s face was a war of different emotions: anger, terror, disgust, hunger (unrelated, but it’d been a while and he couldn’t help it). He didn’t want to be polite, because ghoul, but he didn’t want to be skewered, because ghoul.  So he was frozen, mouth slightly agape with several expressions on his face, staring up at Charon.

Charon only raised a brow as he watched the guy, the noises that came out of his mouth along with that expression giving him the impression he was gonna hurl right there at that moment. 

With deft, nimble fingers, he finished wrapping the bandages and secured them with a pin. “As the new owner of the contract, I can alter it as I see fit, right?” he didn’t wait for a response, continuing while he tested the security of his work. “So I’m going to pay you.”

Charon grunted a little as the bandaging was done, a deep humm rumbling in his chest as he listened to his companion talking about the contract. He furrowed his brows as he thought about it a little, seeing how altering it would be possible... every one of his employers kind of had their own take on the thing anyway.

"I don’t think we’ll be that lucky."

Charon only hissed a little under his breath as the disinfectant stung, but paid no more attention to it, furrowing his brows heavily as he let his companion treat his wound, lifting his arm a little to make the whole wrapping process just a bit easier.