Hey, Miller smiled! Cool. He'd wondered if the world had beaten it out of him, good to see that it hadn't entirely. He continues the light-hearted quipping.
"While naked back-handing might be fun in some consensual contexts, naked back-handing in front of an audience is, like, one level of kink too high for me."
Deacon has no scars, despite his extensive list of injuries over the years. He gets that surgically taken care of ever time he gets his face changed. No identifiable marks. He only wishes there were some way of permanently changing his hair color, too. His ginger stubble drives him crazy but dyes aren't easily available in the wasteland. But, hey, that's what razors and wigs are for.
He notices Miller looking. It's human nature to want to look, to compare, to assess. Miller's probably looking to see if he's got some Frankenstein bolts sticking out of him somewhere, evidence of his supposedly synthetic nature. But Deacon reckons that this basically gives him permission to look at Miller, a subtle up and down from his peripheral vision.
Christ, Miller looks like someone held him down and took a ripper to his limbs. There's no amount of stimpaks or surgery that could repair that. The prosthetics are pretty damn impressive, though, far better than anyone in the Commonwealth, save perhaps the Institute, could ever come up with. It's a shame they use their powers for evil.
no subject
"While naked back-handing might be fun in some consensual contexts, naked back-handing in front of an audience is, like, one level of kink too high for me."
Deacon has no scars, despite his extensive list of injuries over the years. He gets that surgically taken care of ever time he gets his face changed. No identifiable marks. He only wishes there were some way of permanently changing his hair color, too. His ginger stubble drives him crazy but dyes aren't easily available in the wasteland. But, hey, that's what razors and wigs are for.
He notices Miller looking. It's human nature to want to look, to compare, to assess. Miller's probably looking to see if he's got some Frankenstein bolts sticking out of him somewhere, evidence of his supposedly synthetic nature. But Deacon reckons that this basically gives him permission to look at Miller, a subtle up and down from his peripheral vision.
Christ, Miller looks like someone held him down and took a ripper to his limbs. There's no amount of stimpaks or surgery that could repair that. The prosthetics are pretty damn impressive, though, far better than anyone in the Commonwealth, save perhaps the Institute, could ever come up with. It's a shame they use their powers for evil.