Chapter Text
The courier seems an open book to those who don’t know her. She’s not too bright, she’s exuberant, hyper, dramatic, always smiling- her scar that splits her lip stretching the expression to just barely unsettling ways. People think they know her entirely when they hear about her through reputation. Always willing to help, diligent despite her spaciness, good for a laugh- someone to count on, to hoist their troubles onto.
Those that are closest to her understand that they barely know her at all. They notice the moments when her personality shifts- when she suddenly goes from carefree to bloodthirsty when dealing with fiends and particularly corrupt raiders, the flash of cold and stone-faced fury when she deals with the legion.
They see the short bouts of clarity where she suddenly knows too much- the sadness, how she slumps as if remembering a pain she’d forgotten, when she pauses and stares a bit too long over the edge of a cliff. Then as quickly as the mood struck her, it’s gone again- she shakes herself out of it, confused as if she had no memory of what she’d just been doing. They wonder which version of her was the original- if the sadness had come from the gunshot she’d taken to her temple, or if the happy and off-kilter version of her is the result of losing sight of what had hurt in the first place. When they see the sudden clarity and utter tragedy in her eyes during those moments, they’re not sure which is worse.