Continuing in the loose story of my Deathclaw gal that's unintentionally replaced Six as New Vegas's protagonist; 'Six' has made her way to Vegas proper, after quite a few detours and several NCR casualties. She even visited a rather bizarre laboratory after belching up some sort of device-upon finding herself on an operating table with one horn absent and a strange new implant in it's place, an odd jumble of memories flashed through her mind.

The past few weeks had been a whirlwind of new experiences for 'Six', a moniker she had taken to calling herself after her recent cranial implant imparted a slew of memories she determined to belong to that of the unfortunate human who enjoyed a brief stay inside her bowels. Though the original may have long since vacated the world (along with a certain deathclaw's intestines), the deathclaw in question was now in the unprecedented position of picking up where her predecessor left off-having acquired enough knowledge to follow Benny's trail back to New Vegas.

She knew that there wasn't any real reason to seek out the man-she'd never met him, or even hear of him until a few days ago-but it felt like something she ought to do, and it wasn't as if she were needed elsewhere. Surprisingly enough, less and less people shot at her on reflex as she entered Freeside-whether that was because of a passing familiarity with the similarly gigantic super mutants that sometimes traded from Jacob's Town, or the fact that she was the only deathclaw they'd ever seen to wear clothing (or use a firearm), went unanswered.

Picking up on the fact that she'd need to submit to a credit check before she could be allowed to enter The Strip from local chatter, Six milled around town for a bit. She'd spent some time acclimatizing herself to non-lethal interaction with humans in various settlements on her road to Vice City; Enough of her encounters had gone smoothly enough for her to have a better handle on how to approach the smaller creatures, the rest settled rather heavily on her frame-forcing her to abandon her salvaged tank top and trousers as the sole protectors of her modesty.

Augmenting her garb was a lesson in adaptability-one learned in small doses, as seen from the way her breasts so frequently slip to either side of the meticulously scrabbled together chest piece, liberated from a few NCR soldiers for who's tours ended earlier than they might have expected. The end result was... mixed. Serving her well enough, but resembling something more like a Fiend might find reasonable-Six's outfit almost garnered more attention that the person wearing it.

By the time she worked up (more than) enough money to open the gates of New Vegas, Six's ramshackle clothing found itself stressed further than anticipated-not that she readily noticed, or particularly cared. All that mattered at the moment was gaining entrance to the shimmering city and furthering this quest she didn't entirely understand; the constant barrage of gross tasting vagrants and fattening Mormons, from what she had read of the sign outside their little castle, had taken their toll on her already portly physique-she was due for something a little lighter in local fauna, at the moment.

Still, everything was so exciting! She tugged at the flabby potbelly that hung over trunks of her thighs, surprisingly soft and pliable underneath her scaly hide. Her tongue danced across the jagged spires that decorate her jaw as she handed over her earnings for inspection, imagining what the future might hold beyond those doors...


These two're done up by  Killboo! Second will be uploaded at a later date, once it's completed.

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