[[ Absolutely. There were all kinds of tall tales in the vault about what’s outside - some fearmongering to try and keep everyone in favour of keeping the door firmly closed, some old stories that have become ‘atomic folk legends’ of sorts, and some just the result of bored vault dwellers siphoning ridiculous shit into the younger kids’ heads for lack of anything better to do. But I feel like most people sort of deduced that most of this shit wasn’t real, and Butch just… didn’t. I mean, we’ve all heard his fucking ridiculous line about believing there are dragons around and very sincerely asking you if you’ve seen one. kid’s got some learning to do. ]]

She didn’t learn until she was about 7 how the slavers liked to dress.

Physical gifts make her swoon tbh. Not consumables, since they’re only temporary, but something that’s meant to be permanent-- like a gun or clothing. With such short lifespans, she doesn’t often have things to remember humans by, so giving her a memento of yourself makes you more permanent in her eyes.

“In all honestly I’ve always been greedy for food. I’m a terrible glutton given the chance, not that a chance arises much. I guess starving constantly does that to you, huh?”

Her hands are quite small, her fingers are rather long; she has square-shaped hands, has fairly soft skin but her share of specialized callouses from holding her go-to weapons. Her skin, like the rest of her, is fairly easily damaged.Dahlia keeps her nails short and rounded for minimum worry and snagging; sometimes she’ll paint them when she has a chance, and because it makes it that much easier to hide all the dirt underneath them, but usually she’s rather utilitarian about her hands.