Where the ghouls and the deathclaws play

Forget jack cabot work for me instead babygirl!!!

Help.

Sure, I totally get why some want to have the whole nine yards of his past (particularly with his contract) but I think it’s super fun to instill your own thoughts and theories because there’s essentially nothing there. He has just enough to build on, and I think it’s fascinating to see everybody else’s takes on his past and the utter confusing contradictions of his whole brainwashed contract definitely-not-a-slave don’t look a gift ghoul in the mouth sort of aspect. I’m pretty sure there was a post floating around at one point where even his creator had said he kept it open and vague for somewhat of that reason, and I personally think that’s cool af.

NCR trooper having Christmas meal back home in New Cali. The tiny mess room was decorated in style. A green wreath hung at one end as a Christmas tree. The tables were loaded with food, they have fried chicken (poultry raised under NCR 'Food for Defense' program) hardtacks, pea soup, mash potatoes, cream chipped gecko on toast. The hardtack were soggy and moldy usually because of bad storage and ones infested with maggots, and weevils, but they didn’t mind that. That one night officers and troopers had their mess together. It was rather close quarters. They had a crew of four officers and thirty-two troopers, it was no dress affair. No fish and soup as you call them. In short, there were many drawbacks, but good spirits were not one of them. In the tight, overcrowded little mess room they ate and talked. The meal was washed down with potato coffee mixed with run, and they lost count of the number of toasts that were drunk.

tired of pretending he isnt fine as hell

Charon...