Even in these ruined lands I still life throbbing in the Earth . . .
Taking off his coat he laid it on the counter with his goggles and sighed contentedly. How long had it been since he had been indoors . . . that wasn't a tumble down wreck he was sleeping in? "Oh, 'bout two years I fig," he said answering his own train of thought aloud, a habit picked up from being alone in the wastes for a long time. You find more often than not that the only person to talk to out there is yourself, problem with D'wayne was that he was terminally sane, talking himself all the time and the only one that ever answered was still just him, he became slightly disappointed out there, but hey whatever right?
Regardless he pulled off his mask and rubbed his smooth face, freshly shaved that morning, there was still some razor burn on his neck, despite his enthusiasm for learning new things he still hadn't got used to his great grandfather's old cutthroat razor. His face wasn't all that exciting, he had the look of a farm boy, plain, square jaw, big nose, faded blue eyes, crooked and slightly yellow teeth. Shrugging he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box and pushed it over to Ollie when he had a second, it was a full if small box of .22 hollowpoint shells, just the Velocitor model, good for basic hunting and low level self defense, but since only ex-military and other people generally carried armor it worked out in the waste. It sure did help that it was most plentiful type of ammo out there.
"Hey bra," he said with his c**k eyed boyish grin which is odd for a man pushing thirty, not that he looked it, plenty of exercise kept him fit and young looking and the mask kept the elements off his face,
"Whaddya charge fer tea man? Er . . . how many shells would buy maybe breakfast, I haven't seen a place like this in over two hundred miles or more even!" D'wayne had a lackadaisical way of speaking, peppered with slang from a by gone era, an easy, laid back personality that somehow survived years in the waste.
Turning around he noticed a lot of women in the room, odd that, must be a coincidence or something, eh well. Smiling pleasantly he waved to everyone in the room with a cheerful,
"Good day everyone, I trust the morning finds you all well." That was another thing about D'wayne, raised in the country he was incredibly friendly and hospitable to strangers . . . which has got him in trouble a lot in the wastes with thugs, gangs and marauders, yet somehow he was still standing rough and ready.