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QUOTE: Alright, I can say what you want me to
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TITLE: S. L. A. V. E.
Joined: 27-July 15
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Last Seen: Aug 30 2015, 11:36 PM
Local Time: Jul 16 2018, 06:56 AM
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Jul 29 2015, 11:47 PM
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THINGS</div></div> </div>
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Look at you you're growing old so young
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Angel sat, for once, not in the truck, but on top of it. See it was broken down, again, and there was no use sitting inside the truck while Wolf was fiddling with the engine Nothing was happening in that truck. She was sick of sitting in the truck. She was always sitting in the truck. Of course this might have also been a show of defiance, because he may have told her to stay in the truck because even though this particular stretch of highway was directly in the middle of nowhere heading to nowhere there were other raiders out there.<p>

What you ask did Angel have to be defiant about?<p>

Why the answer was simple.<p>

The dress.<p>

The short dress that was verging on being a very long shirt. The sleeves were probably as long as the damn dress if that gave you a better picture, and it wouldn’t sit on her shoulders and kept sliding down. Did she mention it was a dress?!<p>

What use was a damn dress?<p>

She didn’t even wear dresses on the farm. Momma did, and Elizabeth did, but they were what Pa called “Real Ladies” Mary had been one before she… started couriering…<p>

And it was white on top of that!<p>

Fucking dress.<p>

Angel let out another huff as she sat there cross-legged, her hands keeping the skirt of the dress down. She couldn’t see Wolf from this angle but she knew he could hear her down there. Still for good measure she huffed some more, louder. She did not understand how this white dress, he forced her into, was helping anything!<p>

<i>“But Momma I don’t wanna wear a dress! Why I gotta wear this thing just because we got company?!”</i> Angel could remember whining up at her mother feeling just as awkward as a baby goose among ducklings like in that one story. All she’d gotten for her trouble though was, <i>“Victoria Helen Thatcher you’re gonna wear that dress and be a proper lady. Me and your pa were friends with the Jensen’s since the bunker.”</i> Then when she continued to try and whine Momma swatted her backside when she’d turned around and she had to keep on wearing it!<p>

…She missed…<p>

Angel shoved it down and glared right about where she figured Wolf’s head was.<p>

This was his fault anyway!<p>

Not getting the car checked out before they left Sloan.<p>

Unable to take it anymore Angel insisted, <b>“It’s dead. We should start hoofing it. We might make it somewhere before… sun up.”</b> It was already starting to get darker, the sun hanging low in the sky. They were a long way from anywhere, but she didn’t want to be stuck out here for that long. Sure it wouldn’t be the first time they’d been stuck, but maybe if they had to start walking he’d let her put on pants…<p>

Also unable to resist throwing it in there Angel said, <b>“And me wearing this white frock isn’t making the truck any less dead I hope you’ve noticed.”</b>


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Jul 28 2015, 12:13 AM
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<center><div style="width:450px;height:450px; background-image: url(;"><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><div class="title"><div style="font-family: oswald; color: #8B795E; opacity: 1; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 400; font-size: 25px; text-align:center;">ANGEL</div><br><div style="line-height: 60%; text-align: center; font-weight: normal; font-family: arial; font-size: 9px; letter-spacing: 0px; color: #6E6E6E;">ROBYN, 24, SHE/HER, PACIFIC, PM FOR AIM</div></div></div></center></div></div>

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I use to live on a farm. A honest to goodness farm! My parents built it the second they stepped out of whatever bunker they came out of. Then they started populating the whole farmstead. My brother popped out first, then my older sister, then me, then my younger sister. My momma and pa were like bunnies, much to my older brother's displeasure because he never got that brother he wanted, and my sisters' horror. Pa insisted they had delicate sensibilities like Momma use to have. I thought it was sweet that they loved each other enough to keep at it. I'm pretty sure the only reason they stopped is because Momma went through some sort of change, that made her grumpy <i>forever</i> before returning her to normal. (I figured out what the damn change is and what all grossness comes before it, but still.)<p>

Life was good really. Pa would sell what crops we could produce, and when I was seven Pa came back with chickens and it was my job to open the coop in the morning and collect the eggs, and shut the coop at night. I was pretty proud of myself in those days until Elizabeth, my little sister was old enough to keep the chickens and I got shafted with checking the crops for critters, and cleaning the house, and things like that. Momma made clothes for trading when we could get the fabric. Pa and Arthur took to trading goods as well, whatever they could get a hold of to go along with the farming. Mary my older sister got to do cool shit like couriering... until... she didn't come back.<p>

Then Arthur took up the couriering... really I think he was looking for Mary. Hoping if he went enough places he'd find her... He didn't. At least he hadn't. When I was still with them.<p>

Now life was good like I said. Usually life was good enough that we always had decently full bellies, and the only time we didn't was when we dragged every god damn thing out of the house to appease raiders that happened upon us. Thankfully the three times it happened we always had enough that they left us be... That was when they talked to Pa first.<p>

Now life being so good I could afford to slack off and daydream about better pastures. More exciting ventures. Things I should have left well enough alone and cleaned the fucking house. That day it wasn't Momma yelling <i>"Victoria Helen Thatcher!"</i> that broke me out of my daydreams. This voice was gruff, and came from a truck we'd all thought broke down and was abandoned... We should have tried to start the damn thing...<p>

Anyway... he... he said, <i>“Hey little girl I'll make you a deal, you get in this car and I let mommy and daddy live through this experience. I have my matches right here and trust me burning to death is </i>not<i> the way you want them to go out.”</i><p>

I was fifteen. I was fifteen, and I loved my parents and my little sister, who he might not have noticed, but surely would if he was going to make sure my parents died in that fire and didn't escape! Arthur was on a job, Mary was gone! I looked back at the house. I knew it would break their hearts to loose another daughter, to loose another sister, but their hearts would still be beating. I made to move around the truck to get in the passenger side... but he told me it didn't work... I almost backed out knowing I'd have to crawl over him. It almost made me run back to the house...<p>

But I didn't.<p>

I couldn't.<p>

I climbed up and crawled over him, careful about where I touched him, and I made it quick, and I didn't say a word as I tucked myself as far as I could against the other door.<p>

<i>“Good girl, my sweet Angel.”</i><p>


Maybe it was my fault, refusing to say anything for... it had to have been for a week... By the time I tried to tell him my real name he wasn't having it. It's fine though, I don't think I could take hearing people call me Victoria. Not paying attention and thinking it was my parents, or one of my siblings. It's been five years, and I was sheltered on that farm, I'm pretty much only known as Angel now. His Angel.<p>

Wolf's Angel. <p>

He's... all I got now. Now, I'll be the first to correct him when he calls me his wife. I don't know how many times I've told him, "The word you're looking for is slave." It doesn't change that he's all I have. In a weird way he might believe I'm his wife, and sometimes I let him call me it without giving him a hard time, but he almost always calls me Angel anyway. His Angel.<p>

I remember curling up next to him the first time. I was upset, and he wouldn't call me Victoria, and I wanted to go home, but the truck wouldn't even fucking move... I was all alone, and I was scared, and he was the only one there! Sliding across the seat for the first time to be next to him, was the hardest thing in the world. Once I was there though I pushed under his arm and up against his side...<p>

Maybe I made a mistake.<p>

Maybe I should have never cuddled up to the man that took me away from my home...<p>

It's too late now, and while we still fight... he tries to make up for it in his own weird way. Finds me ways to make my hair pink, and he let's me have most of the chocolate he can find, though it's rare that he can find anyone with any. Same with any sweets really...<p>

I've stuck with him, these days usually by choice. There's been times, though, where it has been kicking and screaming <i>literally</i> but we're still together... I've thought about running off, and sometimes he likes to believe that he'd let me go, I've tried to leave before... Needless to say it didn't work out.



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<center><div style="margin-left: 0px;"><table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="1"><tr><td><div class="biotag">SLAVE</div></td><td><div class="biotag">FACTIONLESS</div></td></tr><tr><td><div class="biotag">CRAZY MAN'S "WIFE"</div></td><td><div class="biotag">JULY 25 (20)</div></td></tr><tr><td><div class="biotag">HETRO</div></td><td><div class="biotag">CHARLOTTE FREE</div></td></tr></table></div></center><br><br><div style="width:352px; height:262px; overflow:auto;"><div style="width:326px; font-size: 10px; text-align:justify; padding-right: 7px;">

While stubborn almost beyond reason, Angel is most of the time very level headed and understanding. However when a raider kidnaps you at fifteen and then refers to you as his wife, you're going to find yourself the sane level headed one in most cases. This however does not stop the now twenty year old Angel from throwing a fit and screaming right back at him when she feels she's been seriously wronged. This carries over to what relationships she has outside of her crazy "husband" at times, and it can be embarrassing... as well as dangerous to anyone so much as looking at her funny.<p>

By the way the correct word Wolf is looking for is not wife, it's <i>slave</i>.<p>

And "husband" actually means <i>abductor</i>.<p>

Ignore the disgruntled looking raider, he doesn't know what he's saying.<p>

Angel does have a little freedom, but where Angel is her owner is definitely somewhere nearby.<p>

<b>Friends:</b> You brave people you. Angel's friends are few and far in-between, but not because Angel isn't friendly. In fact she loves people. She loves talking to people, and listening to them. The problem is Wolf. The disgruntled crazy man standing over her shoulder. To be honest most of Angel's friends are probably women because they're the only one's Wolf doesn't immediately try to scare off because Angel isn't interested in women sexually. Men... let's face it any male friends Angel has are either friends with Wolf, or Angel made friends with them while Wolf was off raiding... it's hard making friends while being a raiders slave...wife... no I meant slave.<p>

<b>Enemies:</b> Angel's enemies are Wolf's enemies usually, if only because Angel doesn't particularly fancy dieing, and for some reason enemies are always shooting at them... Angel can be temperamental which might lead to her making her very own enemies, but Angel's more the kind to hide from conflict than attempt to stab and or shoot it though she has been taught to know her way around most weapons.<p>

<b>Lovers:</b> Angel may or may not be in love with <i>him</i>, which may be why she doesn't try and run off anymore, but he's not exactly monogamous and Angel might try to give him a taste of his own medicine, but probably not. It'd have to be the right person, and the right moment. Angel isn't above being a terrible tease though.<p>


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