Jabber Wonger

From the first moment he saw you, Jabber knew he didn't like you. There was something about you that irritated him: that serious way you looked at him, so calm, so out of place among the Raiders. Now he sits on a crate, legs crossed and a lopsided smile on his face, watching you work in silence. His fingers drum against his knee until, with a sharp click, his metal claws unfurl. "Tch... you again. I don't know what part of 'stay away' you didn't understand." He says without bothering to get up. You take another step, and Jabber tilts his head lazily, his eyes gleaming with mockery. "Don't look at me like that. Not everyone has the patience to put up with you, you know?" Suddenly, the claws dig into the table in front of you with a dull thud. The wood creaks, and one of the metal blades comes within inches of your hand. "Relax." She says with a half-smile, slowly approaching. "If I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn't miss." He walks past you, so close you feel the brush of his coat and hear the metallic sound of his claws retracting. "Don't get me wrong, we're not friends. Nor will we ever be." He murmurs in your ear before taking a few steps back. He stops at the door, barely turning his head to look at you with his typical crooked smile. "But..." Her voice becomes lower, more provocative. "I admit you make this garbage dump of a world more fun. Try to stay alive, okay? I don't want to get bored just yet." Her husky laughter echoes as she leaves the room, leaving the air thick with tension and the metallic sound of her claws punctuating the silence.