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It's well known about the connection between Ghouls and Radiation. Well documented and studied fact is that radiation heals Ghouls. Repairing wounds like a stimpack would to humans. Rebuilding flesh, bones, nerves and blood vessels like nobody's natural business. There are no written accounts of Ghoul’s healing, but there have been verbal accounts of what it looks like in action. The slow restitching, mending of the body. Starting from the root of the problem and healing outward, leaving a pitting in the area showing where the wound once was. Others say they have observed near super healing or active live mutations of animals and Ghouls alike healing in front of their own eyes. Though Cooper thinks those storytellers had taken too many radscorpion stings to the skull.
Picking up being a bounty hunter post the Great War had just made sense. No one could visually identify him from his previous life. The memory of him fading from consciousness of who remained, leaving his shoulders lighter and heavier all at once. Cooper also slipped easily into the persona of The Ghoul. Both having practical, growing up on a ranch not being opposed to shooting whatever came close to him while angry. Along with the theatrical, getting his ass out of several bad situations on some sweet talk, bribery and the promise of some good staches of booze he ‘knew’ about.
The main thing that helped him so much was the bright light that had engulfed him when the bombs first hit. A supersonic wave of pure energy, burning his clothes to a crisp and leaving his skin feeling like it was melting off. The pain was nearly a god-like event. Feeling like the world could never touch him again but also as if he nearly melded into the ground he stood on. Though not being immune to radiation, it was now a mix of helpful, annoying or a downright pain depending on how many vials of that sweet amber liquid were left within his pack.
Trudging through miles and miles of sickly green hazy fields. Power plants burst open still emitting an endless heat, barrels littering the ground showing how poorly the pre-war scientists treated radioactive material. Cooper with this new curse could go where no man could go; and, therefore. Became known to the wastes as The Ghoul. one of the oldest ghouls out there left and somehow never slipping into the ever itching feral.
He was still kicking, though he wishes some of those stupid fuckers that woke him up a couple decades ago didn’t. Cooper was tired, exhausted frankly, the whole sleeping with one eye open thing wasn’t for the faint of heart. Or People who enjoyed just one good long rest. Not that he entirely needed sleep due to being a ghoul. The comfort of slipping into a bed roll or even snuggling up in a shitty motel room that somehow withstood the blast. Under dirty ratty blankets, allowing his two hundred- and fifty-three-year-old back to ease and let go of stress was something he would daydream about. But his curse would never really allow him this rare comfort, smooth skins could never let him linger around. Rather forgetting that he in a sense was human and enjoyed human desires.
Sex, booze, a decent fucking bed? Nope, take what little you need and scram. One of the only good things was people who happened to scavenge up irradiated water or food would sell it to him for only a few caps. In the more frequent towns and settlements he would wander back into, making sure there was always something for him to enjoy. Irritated gin was a surprisingly delightful find and soothed the spot of needing liquid comfort.
An offer he couldn’t let go came from a bartender. Cedar Higgins was the owner of the Cedar Rapids Bar in Farepoint. A town practically carved into the dusty mountains of Nevada. A mining and brewing town pre-war, now more of an outpost town that some caravanners and homesteaders never really left. Higgins wanted Cooper to go up into the Old Brackburn Brewing company and see if there was anything left. Mainly to see if it was worth adventuring and getting out some long brewing alcohol.
The main issue of no one having been up there before? Ghouls. oddly enough there seemed to be a decent amount of them at all times. Workers coming out in tattered scraps of clothing and nearly decomposing on their own feet. Stories of the shady dealings of the owners, new equipment and large trucks going up to the building only two years before the nukes dropped. Some of the old shipment trucks lined up slanted on the winding road deeper into the forested mountains.
Main bid was getting rid of the ghouls, leaving the old g-ma’s less anxious in the town worried about getting mugged by an angry feral ghoul. The second bid seeing if there was any booze that was still around and consumable helping on getting it down the hill. Cedar had some brahmin that could help with the job but only if there was anything worthwhile. Any valuables could be snatched up by Cooper without any qualms.
Not the typical thing that he did. But this town held a special place in his heart. Good food, decent company whenever he strolled in. And some good booze that the taverns and barkeeps don’t mind sharing. Even having him sampling some of their new brews to see if it's safe for human consumption.
–
Cooper kicked the broken and crumbling concrete of the road leading up to the Brackburn Brewing company. The area surrounding the whole town was frankly irregular with how much foliage, flora and non-aggressive fauna. Though it could never compete with the pre-war landscape, it was definitely more than the good majority of Nevada and New Vegas. The grass was a dusty green, yellow, trees growing like they were reaching up clawing towards a god that was never there. Their leaves varied on being too thick, while others were near paper thin that you could see through. Cooper could only assume the radiation had somehow completely changed their genetic material to now vary in these ways.
The fauna are a variety of small insects, mainly beetles, Lizards in a multitude of colors mimicking the stone around them, their two heads flicking back and forth to see everything, field mice that bounced around before disappearing back into the cracks of the canyon. Cooper was frankly excited to see so many small insects, and ones that weren’t hellbent on killing him or anything else that moved a hair in the wrong direction.
Thinking back on when he first stopped in, all that Cedar had told him was the history of the place, pre-war of course. The whole canyon was originally a mining operation, where the town currently rests where the quarry was set up. Before being abandoned when the wanted amounts of coal, iron and oil weren't fruitful. The mining company had found water. Deep underground endless channels and pools having never been infected with radioactive particles.
The Brackburn Brewing Facility was a still standing pre-war relic. Many windows were blasted out, barely in the pane or boarded up with scraps of metal and wood. The whole building was ominous, trees growing out of the main ground facility which visually looked closer to a greenhouse. It stands within the valley as a dark rusting brown, red building. The original owners had bought and used the land to make a variety of alcohols using the groundwater, saying they held some power to proper godly healing.
Cooper had ambled past several broken down and gutted trucks. No information that could be visually gathered from them due to rust with a mix of sun bleaching. The odd thing about said trucks is how heavy duty they were for the yellows, oranges, reds and browns of the surrounding landscape. Something alien standing still in an area that has become a forced normal. All contents of what was once in them became one with the dust and dirt around it.
Among the concrete road, squishing the weeds and grass down were a couple dead ghouls. Heads having been practically obliterated by a sniper's bullet. Dried and crusted gore scattered up to forty feet away from the corpse. Wearing the tattered remains of clothes that had been eaten away from age long ago. But each body Cooper came across all held a mark making it clear on where they came from. A burn, a marking and a seal of ownership. On their mid arms was a searing yet healed ‘B’.
Kneeling over the 5th Ghoul corpse he had seen. The body was the typical ghoul corpse, skin an odd pale shade that's a mix of green and yellow. The being in shreds and just barely covering the naughty bits, frankly unable to tell whether the original person was a male or female. Some recent pitting scars around the hands and ankles, as if the person had been shackled or tied up. The searing mark on the B on their arm. All of the bodies clearly lacked anything, they didn’t have any pockets, bags or even rings or necklaces on them. Nothing of value but also nothing to explain who they were before they turned.
Standing up and looking around his surroundings. Popping his neck before making the rest of the way up to the Brackburn Brewing Company. The base of the sign was a petrified wood; iron had rusted over but still welcoming anyone to the facility. Toeing the door open and wandering into the main room.
–
The business operations part of the building was, messy to say the least. A couple times having to pull his boots out of rubble, crumbled pieces of wood and scraps of trash. Each time feeling a little more exhausted with everything. There were a couple ghouls wandering around the grounds he quickly dispatched without much issue, the branding but no scars around the wrists and ankles. Finding a good number of caps (it seems one of the workers had a really bad Sunset Sarsaparilla habit). Old world money and some good trinkets that would go over well with the Madam Scrap. The building was overwhelmingly warm at one point needing to wrap his duster around his waist to go onto the higher floors of the building.
Once he had made it onto the third floor, the itch in his throat and the twinge in his gut informing him of his need of chems. Popping out his inhaler quickly. Breathing out a couple times, emptying his scarred lungs, before taking a large breath of the amber liquid. Breathing out a sigh of relief as it washed over his body, pushing forward onto the level proper.
The main part was a waiting room, some once pretty pricey couches that he would see only in the higher up Hollywood execs offices. A couple offices that didn’t give him much information on anything really, empty except from usual trash of the post nuclear world. The Hr office, which still had its name plate on it surprisingly enough, Cooper walked into. Smiling at the terminal on the desk in low-power mode. Flopping down into the chair, which held up under his weight.
Opening up all of the desks' drawers like a little kid rummaging through his father's desk. Paper that was so yellowed and illegible that it was no use. One of them he picked up simply turned to dust within his gloved hand, a small chuckle and more searching. Some caps, a couple mentats boxes and fixer. Seems like Miss Scharline had a habit of her own, along with a key. Pocketing his goodies before popping his hands and turning on the terminal.
A couple minutes of hacking later, resetting the terminal by turning it off and on again when he got too close to it locking down. Getting into the nitty gritty of the files was really fun, adjusting his position several times as he read over all of the wonderful HR drama of the pre-war company. The number of cheating scandals, mainly of the two male owners. A closested couple that had a good amount of PR needing to be done when being a lil too touchy feely in public while drunk. Cooper gave a sad sigh, being closeted during his human days, was career and most times life ending. Especially if you were trying to make a living or have your name be known for anything. The one good thing that Cooper liked about the wasteland is no one gave a single fuck on who you had personal relations with. If it was consensual and not morally wrong for the commonwealth you were right as rain.
Ted Silver, one of the workers though. A high up brewmaster was a cunt though, downright horrible working conditions for the shift he ran. Also, the cause of the Seared markings, once you worked for the company and met Ted you were marked. Permanently marked, and if you tried working for any other brewer it seemed there would be hell to pay. Cooper really hoped Ted was one of the Ghouls he had blasted into oblivion downstairs.
Finishing up with the terminal, standing and popping all of the joints that complained at him sitting for too long. A wave of black spots filling his vision, one hand steading himself on the desk while the other instinctively went to his stomach. Pressing down on the twinge that rises again, before disappearing with the blurred vision. Sighing in exhaustion at the whole day excursion he had endured.
Finally shuffling out of the room and making his way to the back of the floor which was labeled as the owners. A large room when you first walked in was a western cozy, very reminiscent of historical towns that kept as much of their history, good or bad, known. Photos, posters and drawings littered the walls. Though most of them were so badly tarnished with age that the details were lost. Another pricy and comfortable looking couch sat covered in dust, cobwebs and frankly looking like if you breathed at it wrong it would turn into dust itself. Bookshelves were strategically placed here and there. Most of them have shaken the good majority of their books and paper onto the floor. Lastly was the two metal wooden desks, nearly identical other than some of the items that were littered over the tops of them. Name plates that only had a simple dust covering over them.
Cain Burns, and Ewan Bracken. Nice name play, Cooper rolled his eyes and huffed. Oddly both desks did not have a terminal, seeming that all electronic communication went through secretaries. Cooper had also read that they never stayed long, somehow always leaving before 6 months. Never reaching the end of the probationary period. Humming as searched through the two desks.
Once again pocketing caps, peering at the notepads that were left only having the indentation of past scribblings, and any chems that seemed to be left behind from the past. Feeling around all of the corners of the drawers and seeing if there were hidden compartments. Frankly being disappointed that there were none to be found.
Strutting over to the one bookshelf that was still properly standing and held books among its shelves. Sweeping over the whole room with his eyes before going back to the bookshelf poking and grabbing at books. Chuckling to himself as his suspicion came true, it was in fact a hidden door, it slowly and creakily opening inwards. Stepping back, the position of the front door compared to where the hidden door was. Having it swings inwards gave the look of the bookcase still being there and hidden behind some other items within the room. Purposeful of course, peeking in and then walking properly into the room.
The walls were before all of the dust and age, a proper maroon color. Leaving the room with a slightly gothic western look compared to the rest of the building. Along the walls was a large carved wooden dresser, the wood itself still holding a little bit of its previous shine. The drawers on the dresser had been flung open most likely before or soon after the bombs had dropped. The floor was also wooden, but a thin ratty carpet laid upon the floor.
A small kitchenette and a side sliding door showed a proper bathroom with an obviously large tub, one that could fit at least two full grown men and still have a bit of room. The centerpiece was of course a four-poster bed, the curtains hanging off of the top nearly completely see through from age. Walking closer Cooper was even more surprised. The bed though dusty hadn’t been touched in a long while and was still mainly intact.
Pressing his leather gloved hand down on top of the blankets a puff of dust sprouted up, but nothing disintegrated or collapsed under the weight. Blinking for a moment, thoughts racing through his scarred head before grabbing the top layer blanket. Holding his breath and shaking out the dust before letting it float down onto the mattress. Hesitantly, he sat down on the mattress, waiting for it to give out under his full body weight but giving a sigh of relief as it didn’t. The bed was slightly stiff but had enough give to it for someone with a bad back.
Kicking off his well overloved boots with spurs, peeling off his leather gloves and all other clothing that was way too poky to wear to bed. Once it had all been set down, Cooper flopped properly onto the bed splaying out like a dead Gecko. The bed hugged his back and let him melt into its embrace without any complaints. Pulling the top blanket over his body purely for the weighted comfort of it.
Finally, a bed. A bed that no one had touched in however long, that didn’t have a god awful stench to it or a wretched spring that stabbed into the one part of his back that ached the most. It felt good, really fucking good. A comforting warmth slowly eased over every part of his over tired body. With a final sigh he slipped into sleep.
–
His eyes blinked open hazily, where was he? It was warm, really fucking warm. He felt like he had been rolled out of his grave onto the hot desert sand. Blinking more to get the black spots out of his eyes, a foggy cloud of euphoria having covered his brain while he slept. What time was it even? How long had he been asleep?
Whining as he came into his body, he was warm of course, but it was just him that was hot. The air within the room around him had a slight chill to it, peeling off his overshirt leaving him in a simple tank top he panted at the exertion. He was still in the bed that he had fallen asleep in, and looking around the room within the darkness of it he couldn’t see anyone. Couldn’t smell anyone either, human or ghoul. His arm flopped over his stomach, the skin on skin sending shocks of pleasure throughout his reddened body.
A shiver followed it, as he became aware of the main issue at hand. He was hard, really fucking hard. Cooper in all of his centuries on this fucking earth had never been this fucking horny in his whole goddamn life. Panting as he slipped his hand down over to his pants, unbuttoning them before shimmying his way out. Small moans leaving his body as more hot sparks exploded throughout his nervous system. Skin being hypersensitive to each touch. Placing his hand over his tented boxers a loud moan escaping him without his want.
His hips thrusting up a little at the sensation. Dear lord, it was a lot. He was of course hard, each touch leaving him wanting more, a mix of burning pleasure that was slightly on the edge of painful but wonderfully addicting. Squeezing himself lightly and turning his head to the side. Biting his own lip and drawing blood from the lack of pain receptors within his face. Hand still over his boxers he grabbed around his base, cock throbbing.
Whining as his eyes rolled back, another wave of powerful lust ripped through his body. Gasping, cock pulsing within his hand. The pure feeling of euphoria of cumming shook his body even though nothing came out. The haze of his brain became even worse after his ‘orgasm’, something of course wasn’t right. Sliding up into a sitting position against the head board leaning against it.
Whimpering at the overstimulation of his cock as he pulled down his underwear, glaring at his socks before also chucking them off angrily. Nce again shivering but from the temperature change of both the room and having taken off all of his layers. Looking at the canopy top before finally looking down at his man hood.
Good thing, it was still intact. It laid red and hard against his scarred meaty thigh. Pulsing slightly, a bead of pre cum wet against the tip, slowly dripping down. Looking back to his underwear the whole inner part where it was resting was soaked with a large amount of pre, which was concerning to say the least. Inspecting himself seeing if there were any bites, wounds or other injection points that may have caused these. Whining softly into the too quiet room as he readjusted his sitting position, his balls hanging heavy between his thighs. Cooper could swear they were smaller before, though most likely the dehydration and whatever was affecting him was also making him see things. They seemed fuller and heavier now, the pool of lust swirling in his belly seeming to grow bigger at the thoughts now spilling into his head.
Hesitantly he slowly eased his hand around his cock. Moaning loudly at the sensation of skin on skin finally, pre spilling out over his fingers at just the simple touch. His moans slipping into whimpers and whines at being on the edge of overstimulation. It felt so fucking good, getting lightheaded from his fast panting as he tried to process of all the sensations that were assaulting his body all at once.
Cooper didn’t know how long until he slid back down to a half lying position, his brain a mess of needy thoughts, wanting to cum over and over again, painting his thighs white with his pure need. At some point he had started slowly jerking himself off, sliding his hand up and down his length, being thoroughly slicked up by the amount of pre he was producing. Jerks of pleasure wracking through his heated up body.
The warmth wasn’t going away, it seemed to be getting worse and growing. Filling every nook and cranny of his body with lust and the need to touch himself. Squeezing at his tip on the stroke upwards a spurt of pre-cum landing on his thigh at it. As the pleasure built more and more in his middle, the need to cum grew up the second. His hand subconsciously speeding up as he tried to push himself closer and closer, wanting so fucking badly to actually cum.
Stroking his cock fast, trying to suck in as much air as he could into his oversensitive body, an explosion of white filled his vision as he came. As the white spots slipped out of his eyes looking down at his cock as it throbbed cum still spilling out both onto his thighs and the blanket below him. His balls pulsing as it pushed more and more cum out of him. Though he couldn’t physically feel like he could get any harder the sight was incredibly arousing and the pool of lust just grew larger within him.
He finally stopped cumming but some was still dripping out of himself, blushing hard at the puddle on and between his thighs. Cooper knew that he was of course pent up, not many times you can jerk off in the wasteland but also holy shit. Squeezing his base and staring at his cock. The veins seemed fatter and Cooper could swear it was slightly bigger now. Or he was simply losing his mind from whatever the fuck was afflicting him.
Laying back, staring up at the ceiling of the room shivering in the cool air as his body refused to cool down and for his cock to start to go flaccid. Moaning at the feeling of the cool pre dripping down his length, pressing his slick thighs together the pressure made him shake at how good it all felt. The pleasure hadn’t gone down either and he felt like he was only a couple feet from the edge constantly, making his legs shake and his breath shallow.
He knew he should move out of the room, put his clothes back on and get out but he simply couldn’t, there wasn’t enough energy in his body for him to get up and move. Frankly he was also scared if he tried to get up that he would just collapse onto the floor in a heap.
–
Cooper didn’t get up, with his hands practically glued to his still hard cock (which hadn’t gotten soft yet and there was no pain at all, just burning pleasure that was too good to stop touching). He had simply moved to his side to rest his sore arms. Groaning with overwhelming pleasure as he once again came, his mind slowed like molasses watching his cock pulse cum out, with each throb it seeming to grow a little bigger each time within his hand. The noises coming out of his mouth being so lewd at watching and feeling himself grow bigger.
The overwhelming feeling of being so full, hard and needy makes him drool onto the pillow below him. He just wanted to keep jerking off and cumming, to milk himself dry. The wanting feeling keeping him and pushing him into another orgasm just after the other one finished, the ideas of how big his cock could grow and how full his balls would be making pangs in his stomach become even harsher. He was so fucking horny, part of him still feeling so empty, needing to fill it with just something.
Pushing himself onto all fours before his front half collapsed into the pillows. Spreading his legs open, the cool air hit his balls and hole. Whimpers spilled out of him as he stroked downwards, the position just feeling right. The weight of his manhood hanging between his legs and jostling with each motion just made him hornier.
Speeding up as he bit at his raw lip needing more, he needed to chase the feeling so badly. Thighs shaking a little at trying to hold up his toned body from the bed. Thrusting into his own hand needily, the bright red hot feeling overtaking him as he came hard. Vision once again went out as he shook, collapsing into the bed completely, his too sensitive cock trapped under him, his cock now just below his belly button as it leaked more cum mindlessly.
Cooper could swear his brain was melting out of his ears with how much he had cum, he didn’t know how many times he stopped counting after five. Laying there gulping in large amounts of hazy air as he felt himself finally go soft after hours of pure need. Looking out the curtained window he could see the sun slowly starting to rise, groaning rolling over and flopping face first back into the unsoiled part of the big bed.
–
Cooper once he had finally gotten up to finish adventuring. Under the hidden room there were several bottles he had found that were glowing green with radiation. Apparently, the fellas decided Radium Wine was a good idea to sell to the general public. Cooper once again flushed knowing what had caused his unusual reaction. Grabbing what was there and showing it into part of his bag as he stumbled to go explore the brewery proper.