#never a trace

【 💣 】— That was a good question… what was she expecting? She remembered visions... dreams of a man who would come to her aid in the nick of time when she felt all was lost, but those visions had been, more or less, disillusions of grandeur. Tall, mysterious, handsome, and encased in a holy light, wielding a revolver of sorcery that felled her opponents in one blow.

     Instead, the reality of that vision was a simple, plain-looking man in a trench coat who had absolutely no business wearing in the dry heat of the desert.

【🔧】— She had enough time to do one of two things: either she could try to reach for a stimpak and hope she healed quick enough before the bullet fired and finished her off, or she could reach for her gun and hope to shoot quicker than she could bleed out to death.

       Ultimately, she went for the stimpak, and shut her eyes tightly as she heard the raider’s gun go off. Or so she thought. After a few moments, she realized she wasn’t actually dead, and she pried one eye open, to see her oppenent dead on the ground with a bullet into the temple and out the other. The other eye opened and she looked to the direction the bullet came from. There, standing in just the right way so that the wind blew the end of his trenchcoat in such a cinematic fashion, was someone she had never seen before.

       She heard rumors, both out west and here in the Commonwealth, of a man, a mysterious figure, if you will, randomly appearing from nowhere and coming to the aid of those who needed it, whether they deserved it or not, eliminating their opponent with a single shot. Trenchcoat and fedora, he was cladded in, but was human in appearence rather than the familiar synth she knew of. Said familiar synth even spoke of him (or rather ranted) on occasion. A mysterious and powerful phenomenon. And just as quickly as he would appear, he would disappear without a trace.