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grandlinedreams · 2 months

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|| i regret nothing I need Cooper Howard viscerally both pre and post Ghoulification

|| notes: semi Canon compliant, spoiler-ish for end of s1, semi-shifting pov, Lucy is adorable but baby girl you will be chewed up and spat out pls grow more spine, Dogmeat has never done anything wrong ever, godbless Cooper having a southern accent bc that's my accent, yeah, gonna do a sequel to this and a prequel on Coop and reader's first meeting, ok bye

|| warnings: weapons supplier!reader, couple of allusions to cannibalism, reader is not specifically gendered, NSFW ㅡ fingering/touching

“Where are we going?”

Not for the first time today, or even the last week, Cooper questions why he's letting the Vaultie (“Lucy,” she informs him primly, “my name is Lucy.”) tag along. The dog, at least, is a good, reliable companion. Dogmeat trots dutifully at his side, her tail wagging as he stops to glare at Lucy.

“Supplies, Vaultie,” he tells her, relishes the flicker of annoyance in her eyes. “Need supplies or we'll both be knee deep in shit.” He pauses. “More than we already are.”

She mumbles something he doesn't care to catch as he resumes walking, rolling his eyes as he adjusts his hat. He knows he could stand to be a little more sympathetic with the bombshell she's still dealing with, but he can't bring himself to ㅡ not when his daughter might still be alive out there, somewhere. (And his ex-wife, who he's pointedly trying to not think about too much.)

Lucy is blessedly quiet for a good while, all the way until they get closer to where they're going. Cooper doesn't need that piece of shit vault-tec device on her arm to know where he is, but Lucy says it anyways.

“It's a town,” she mumbles at the cluster of ramshackle buildings, surrounded by the clustering of trees so much like Filly ㅡ but isn't. “Is thisㅡ”

“Yes,” he answers, “now shut it and walk.”

Lucy huffs. “I don't know if you've realized neither of us have means to pay for anything,” she protests, “but the general rule ofㅡ”

“Vaultie.” If looks could kill, she'd be six feet under. He's never had much patience, but she’s already reached the bottom of it and keeps digging. “Shut the fuck up about your goddamn rules. If you haven't noticed, nobody up here gives a damn about playing by what's wrong and what's right.” He gives her a meaningful look. “Now if you don't want me to leave your ass to whatever comes along next, you'll be quiet and let me handle it.”

Lucy's mouth shuts with an audible click, and Cooper turns on his heel to resume walking, Dogmeat at his heels.

Like Filly, the center of buildings bustle with the day to day of so many others, the cacophony of animal sounds along with chatter ㅡ Cooper spares Lucy a brief glance to watch her struggle to keep up and scoffs to himself, shaking his head as he continues.

He knows where he's going, a little shop shoved between two others, narrow but deeper than the other two, because he's been here before. Several times, actually. Which accounts for the familiarity with which he strolls over the threshold and leaves Lucy and Dogmeat to follow.

There's the jingle of what might be a bell over Lucy's head when she follows, blinking at the interior. Neat and tidy, or at least as much as can pass for such things on the surface ㅡ rows of weapons and other assorted things on shelves and stands.

Lucy watches The Ghoul rap his fist on the counter. “I know you're here,” he calls, “you never leave this damn place!”

She expects whoever it is to come scuttling out with the tone of voice he uses and being as accustomed to his rougher attitude, and she listens to the clatter of something further in the shop.

“If that's your greeting nowadays,” comes the answer, “you can fuck off.”

To Lucy’s surprise, The Ghoul husks a laugh instead of offering another threat. Footsteps approach, and Lucy blinks at the person who rounds the corner.

“You,” you accuse, finger almost into his chest, “thought I told you I was done dealing with you if you couldn't work on your manners.”

Lucy stares, and watches as you turn towards her and raise an eyebrow, eyeing her with unrestrained curiosity, then at Dogmeat. “A vaultie and a dog,” you say, then glance back at The Ghoul. “So, taking in strays, huh?”

The Ghoul grimaces. “Guess so.” He clears his throat. “Need supplies again, sweetheart.”

“Figured as much,” you say, arms folding across your chest. Lucy decides she likes you, because you're standing up to him ㅡ and he's letting you. “Take it you have no way of paying, again.”

Lucy wants to tell The Ghoul I told you so, because he can shit on all her little rules all he likes but the surface still deals in keeping the scales balanced. You have to eat too, so it's fair that you're expecting payment in the nonexistent caps they have. The Ghoul, on the other hand, tries a different route.

“Oh come on now sugar,” The Ghoul wheedles, tone almost what could be considered as sweet. Playing at a gentleman for the way he leans against the cobbled together counter, even goes as far as to take his hat off and place it down. “Don't be like that.”

“Don't you sugar me,” you counter with an attitude that honestly startles Lucy for both the lack of genuine bite or answering hostility from The Ghoul. This isn't the first time you've met, she realizes, and is also quietly a little horrified to register that this almost sounds like flirting. “You're a pain in the ass, you know that?”

The Ghoul almost grins. “At least I'm consistent. Besides, you know you miss me when I'm gone.”

You snort, pressing your lips together to hide a smile. Lucy feels a tiny bit uncomfortable with the atmosphere, like she's watching something she shouldn't be privy to.

“Yeah, yeah,” you answer, bustling around to shove several fabric wrapped packs into his chest and giving him a meaningful look. “You owe me.”

It's definitely flirting now, Lucy notes as The Ghoul's face lights up in a way that's still entirely human, tracking your movements with something far softer than anything she's ever seen from him.

The turn towards her and head jerk to her and Dogmeat is as clear as dismissal as she's ever seen, to make herself scarce ㅡ so she does, but not before she catches the peripheral glimpse of the way you let him reach for you, almost melting into him for the way he moves to undoubtedly murmur something.

That something is not the sweet words of a long time lover, but it's probably about as close as you're going to get with things the way they are.

“Anyone causin’ you trouble lately?”

You roll your eyes. “Besides you?” He gives you a look, and you shake your head. “No, and even if there was, you know I can handle myself.” You turn to throw him a teasing look over your shoulder. “Don't tell me you're getting soft on me, old man.”

It's Cooper's turn to snort, even as he moves to follow you. There's a sort of peace to watching you sort through boxes of shell casings and bottles of powder, letting his gaze drift over your body.

When you turn, he doesn't even bother to hide the way he's watching you, and you arch an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothin’,” he returns. “Can't I admire you?”

You roll your eyes. “I'm too expensive for you, Cooper.” It's a playful taunt, one that incites a little flare of something in his eyes as he approaches, the jingle of his spurs as he comes to loom over you, cages you in against the shelves of “inventory”.

“Really now,” he drawls, leans in, eyes predatory dark. A lifetime ago, you might have been scared. But the wastelands made no qualms about beating fear out of people just as quick as it snuffed out life all together. “Here I was thinkin’ I might get a discount.” He reaches, thumbs at your bottom lip with his gloved digit. “What's the askin’ price, sweetheart?”

This close, he smells like the wastelands and sunbaked leather, with a little bit of blood ㅡ but you don't mind. Never have, not sure you ever will. Not when it comes to him, anyways.

He's a dangerous man. A man with a reputation that's well-earned, spoken in hushed whispers and anything but nice. But you let him slot a leg between yours, lean in, press his lips to your hair. You smell like gunpowder and hot metal, grease stained fingertips and more than a couple bruises and scars for your efforts.

Sometimes Cooper contends with the idea he might need you just as much as he needs that chem that keeps him sane. Admits it here and there, quietly to himself when he wanders in, squashes it down that he makes the trips sometimes just to make sure you're still alive. Not like he'd know if you were, till he sees you. Not sure what he'd do if he someday came up and found you gone. No note, no goodbye ㅡ quick and quiet, the cruelty of the wastelands.

“Didn't answer my question, darlin’.” He mumbles, lips to your cheeks now. Soft skin, kept carefully with rationed doses of radaway and a healthy heap of keeping your cute little self out of business that doesn't involve you. “Come on, I asked you real nicely.”

You hook your fingers in the loops of his belt, pull him closer. He can feel the jump of your heartbeat under his lips, now at your jawline. A soft, shaky inhale. Selfishly, he wants to keep you. Steal you away, greedy to keep you for himself. Hates the idea of whatever scum that rolls in that you have to deal with on your own. You can handle yourself, he knows that.

Doesn't stop that little piece of him that's still truly Cooper Howard from worrying. But he knows better than to think he can protect you, because he can't. So he does what he can.

Your skin is soft under his teeth, forgiving to the nip of them, the blooming blossom of pink that reminds him of strawberries. The noise you make is just as sweet, and he wonders if you'd taste like that, too.

“I'm waiting,” he prompts between little nips, mouth curving against your flesh when you grip at him tighter. There's a lot he could do to you, and not a lot you wouldn't let him. “Don't tell me this big ol’ cat’s got your tongue, little songbird.”

Your lips part, and he expects either a sparky response or a soft plea for what this is tilting towards, partaking of something far softer than anything he's used to nowadays ㅡ but you’ve always had a taste for throwing him for a loop, and you do it now.

“Take me with you.”

That snaps him out of his little hazy, touch-greedy daze, enough that he pulls away to look at you properly. “Repeat that?”

“You heard me.” You tug at the loops of his belt, eyes steely, expression firm. “Take me with you. Tired of this shitty little outpost. Figure it's time to move before I get myself into trouble I can't get out of.”

Cooper laughs. “Think you're runnin’ straight into that fire by askin’ what you're askin’, sweet thing.” A warning and a plea, mixed mish-mash in his words. Part of him wants you to stay here. Concrete, much as it can be, where he knows where you are. Other part says it'd be easier to watch your back if he saw it all the time.

“That's not an answer, Cooper.”

He snorts, softens at the edges again, a little sadder as he reaches to stroke your jawline, leans to bump his forehead to yours ㅡ radiation warm against radaway cold. “Wanna make sure you know what you're asking for, darlin’. I ain't your babysitter. Got my own shit to do.”

“I know.” There's that fire in your voice, the kind he loves and hates at the same time. “Wasn't asking for you to babysit me.”

He swallows roughly. Lets his hands drift up your sides, tug at the tuck of your shirt, underneath to drag sun-worn leather against the soft skin of your abdomen. Relishes the way you shiver, leaning into his touch. “Can't promise nothin’, you know that.”

Your smile promises the same kind of heartbreak his own words do, the kind rooted in the reality that the world doesn't deal in any absolute but death, and sure as shit won't give happy endings. Not anymore. “I know.”

Cooper can't think of what to say to that, at least anything he's ready to, so he kisses you. Your lips are too soft against his, the warmth of your mouth reigniting that greedy, needy, human thing inside him. He pulls, digs his fingers into your soft, pliant skin, and he takes.

Takes what you willingly give him, hand over hand with nothing but that pretty little smile of yours. He muffles your gasp as he wedges his leg a little firmer, coaxes the part of your legs with a rough husk of, “just like that, dollface,” and delights too much in the sound of you moaning for him.

Hushed, quiet enough that there's no reason for Dogmeat or Lucy to come back yet (he doesn't know what they're up to nor does he really fuckin’ care at the moment), he lets himself indulge in the pleasure of your body against his. The sweet little sounds, half-gasped as he mouths at your neck, hitched to something almost like music as his hands wander.

Pauses long enough to bite at the tip of his glove and tug, one then two, the bare, radiation scarred wander of his fingers over your body. It's selfish, the way he covets every little twitch and jump of your muscles, the choked gasp as he guides you into rocking against his leg.

“You're so sweet for me, sugar,” he coos, syrupy as he picks you apart meticulously, piece by piece. Fingers still far too good at what they do when he replaces his leg with the press of them against you, remnants of a past life for how well he gets you to whimper his name. “Like ambrosia.”

His fingers stroke, deceptively gentle, working over your slick, too-hot, achy skin until you’re panting and gripping at him, pleading for a relief only he can give you. And that’s exactly how he wants you, where all you can see and think of is him.

The expression you make when he finally lets you come might truly be the most beautiful thing he’s seen in a very long time. Headier than the Jet, dizzying and making him swear as he jerks his clothed hips against yours, breath sharp in his chest.

“Gonna be the death of me, I swear.” He bites at your neck, digs a little harder, scrapes his canines into your sweet, yielding flesh. He could devour you, take bite after sweet, sweet bite and actually test that theory about the strawberries. Crack the cage of your rib, feast on that beating yolk of heart that thumps so hard in your chest.

“Gonna let me do it, sweet thing?” He rumbles against your ear. “Let me have it all?”

Your eyes flash, lips pretty and swollen as they part to answer ㅡ and the bark of that damn mutt ruins it all. At least it's a warning for you both, because he's stepping back and letting you fix yourself with surprising speed as Lucy and Dogmeat return, an expectant look on the fuckin’ vaultie's face.

“Well? Got what you need?"

Cooper snorts, tracks you instead of answering as you press your hand to his for a second, gone around the corner. Lucy frowns when you return, pistol strapped at your hip and a bandolier slung over your shoulder like his, broad pack strapped to your back. Like you planned for this.

And you did, he notes, but it hadn't been contingent on his agreement. Idly, he notes he never did answer you, not really. But he just hums, then turns towards Lucy, who looks between the two of you, confused.

“Yeah,” he finally answers, “got what I need.”

#ㅡmine.#fallout series #fallout x reader #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader

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druidgroves · 1 year

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ok i spent entirely too long on this so i present to you under the cut:

georgia companion swap dialogue

Georgia: Hey, Codsworth, while I’m out, could you water my plants for me? Thanks, hun. Codsworth: Of course, ma’am. Our geraniums were once the envy of Sanctuary Hills, you know.

Codsworth: I’ll be sure to point sir/mum in the direction of any interesting books while we’re away, Miss Georgia. Georgia: Aw, thanks, honey. See you later, Codsworth.

---

Georgia: Aw, c’mon, Dogmeat, that’s not fair. Put those puppy-dog eyes away! Dogmeat: (Sad whimper)

Dogmeat: (Bark) Georgia: [Cutesy voice] Bye-bye, little baby boy. [Regular] We’ll play fetch when you get back, alright?

---

Georgia: Stay here and hold down the fort for me, will ya? Wouldn’t trust anyone else. Preston: I could say the same of you. You have fun out there.

Preston: Anything interesting to report since we last talked? Georgia: [Excitedly] Oh my goodness, Preston, you would not believe--

---

Georgia: If I see anything story-worthy out there, you’ll be the first person I tell. Piper: Oh, Georgia, you know just what I like to hear. My eyes and ears in the Commonwealth.

Piper: Hey, Specs, my treat at Power Noodles for that last piece you helped me with. It got looots of people talking. Georgia: Ooh, lookin’ forward to it, Piper.

---

Georgia: Sorry to take your spot, Mr. Valentine. Hopefully I’ll be just as effective in your place. Nick: With that attitude, you’re already halfway there. Take care.

Nick: Guess it’s my turn to take a spin. We can finish our talk another time, Missus Tate. Georgia: I’ll make sure to mark it on my calendar.

---

Georgia: Hey, Shades. Don’t wait up, yeah? Deacon: See you later, Teach. Go have some fun for me.

Deacon: Huh, if it isn’t Blast From the Past Two: Electric Boogaloo. Georgia: I’ll just pretend like I know what that means, Deacon.

---

Georgia: Looks like it’s my turn for a loop around the Commonwealth. Talk to you later, Hotshot. MacCready: Try not to get hurt out there, alright? See you later.

MacCready: Hey, Georgia, got any extra credit I can do for you? Georgia: Well, now that you mention it...[Laughs]

---

Georgia: Hey, Hancock, if there are any books you want me to keep an eye out for while I’m gone, you just let me know. Hancock: Hm...Surprise me, won’t ya?

Hancock: Hm...you seem like a Mentats girlie. Favorite flavor? Georgia: [Nervous laugh] Oh, you must be mistaken, I don’t really do chems.[Pause] ...Orange.

---

Georgia: Sorry, Danse, looks like a more delicate touch is needed right now. Danse: Hopefully you'll be up to the task, civilian.

Danse: You keep staring. Is there something you need? Georgia: ...It’s nothin’, you just remind me of someone. Stay safe, Danse.

---

Georgia: Huh, wow, are you sure you want to take me over the strongest woman in the Commonwealth? Cait: Aw, you’re flatterin’ me, sweetness.

Cait: I doubt there’s much you could teach me that experience hasn’t already. Georgia: I dunno, Cait, there’s somethin’ to be said about sittin’ down with a good book.

---

Georgia: Finally wanna travel without people chasin’ you around with pitchforks and torches, huh? Strong: Strong fast. Strong chase back.

Strong: This squishy human weak. Make good food for Strong’s brothers. Georgia: Oh, that’s not threatenin’, no, not at all...

---

Georgia: Oh, bye, Curie! Guess we can finish catchin’ up later. Curie: Au revior, Mademoiselle Georgia. I look forward to our future conversations.

Curie: Mademoiselle Georgia, please do be careful, I think I may have spotted a few large insects on our way in. Georgia: Oh dear. Thanks for the heads up, Curie.

---

Georgia: Hi, X6. Bye, X6. X6-88: From her, that was quite the efficient greeting.

X6-88: Remember you’re traveling with the future of the Institute. Do not let personal feelings get in the way of that. Georgia: If that ain’t ominous...will do, X6.

#rae.txt #OK SOME COMMENTARY LMAO:#piper's nickname for her in companion au would be specs instead of blue bc i feel like they have the same vibe lol #the second set of georgia & mac lines is inspired by his flirt lines with cait n piper lmaoo i thought they were funny #the second set between georgia n danse is a ref to how he kinda resembles her (still dead) ex-husband oops #and also in the past i said that georgia n cait wouldn't get along which is mostly true but. georgia has EYES.#the first of x6's is basically him saying she never shuts the fuck up lmfao #also i did not include the dlc companions bc. im neutral towards them & also have not played the dlcs in Forever #ch: georgia walker

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theflowerofthecommonwealth · 2 years

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Power Armor Punch Part Twenty Eight

Masterlist

Nick: That doesn't necessarily make you an adult and besides... *gently rubs her back* Just because you're a kid doesn't mean people have the right to disrespect you or your agency. You deserve the same amount of regard of any level headed adult out there in Wasteland, got it?

Jasmine: (Nods her head against his coat, although she believes otherwise on the first part...) “Fucking hell…” (She quietly curses to herself out loud for bringing THAT up, she was trying to forget it ever happened… Alright. Unless she wants to go on another rant about being too pretty and shit like that, she needs to think about something else…)

Nick: Breathe, kiddo. It won't do you any good getting stuck in your own head again...

Lucille: *doing repairs on the other robots. Edgar got a rock lodged in his chasis again. Poe needed a few weapon upgrades. Allan kept complaining about a whine in his eye stalk. Atlas... well, Atlas wants actual hands and just kept pestering her. Ada got stuck in a "Are you ready to depart" loop*

Geneveve: *has been trying to get the right flavor ratio down for HOURS. She really needs a good taste tester and she isn't getting concise results. Honestly she's getting a bit frustrated*

Jasmine: (Takes in a some deep breaths, still swearing quietly at herself but she isn't going into panic mode or getting lost in her mind… One of her hands grabs onto Nicks, gently squeezing it)

Nick: ...Do you feel well enough to take a walk through the halls, maybe take a leak? You've been cooped up in here for quite a long time.

Jasmine: (Pulls back from him a bit and nods her head. She really hates it in here) (Quietly) “Can I change this?” (Gesturing to the hospital gown that doesn't give her much coverage or security for her standards)

Nick: Of course... Just let me go get you a change of clothes from the office.

Dogmeat: *perks his head up from next to her bed*

Nick: And you have Dogmeat here to keep you comfortable if you start feeling a bit antsy.

Dogmeat: *quiet woof*

Jasmine: (Nods her head. She lets go of Nicks hand to pat next to her for the pup to come on up on the bed)

Nick: *scoots himself off the bed*

Dogmeat: *hops up and takes his place and licks her face*

Nick: I'll be back, shortly, kiddo... *leaves*

Jasmine: (Hums in response before giggling at the pups kisses. She gently strokes the pooch behind the ears, cooing at him sweetly with a smile and a kiss)

Nick: *runs to the agency and goes through Lucille's stash of clothes. He pulls out a blouse and a pair of pants that looks her size. He looks at the Shroud outfit and then his bloody coat and shirt. He undresses and redresses quickly, shoes and all. He even wears the hat* Better. Much much better. *runs back to the hospital*

Jasmine: (Humming a tune to Dogmeat, playing with his ears as she stares into his puppy eyes to keep herself distracted)

Dogmeat: *soft woof and pants*

Nick: *Knocks on the door* It's Nick.

Jasmine: (Leans over and knocks on the wall in response because she might not be loud enough if she uses her voice. Its actually still a little sore from her screaming and crying earlier)

Nick: *comes in with the clothes, putting everything on the chair for her* I'll leave the room for a bit so you can have your privacy. That alright with you?

Jasmine: (Nods her head, already sitting upright. She pauses and looks down at herself with a deep breath, biting her tongue) (Signing) “Don't leave me for too long, Im still thinking about it…” (Runs her hands over the stitches through the dress, half afraid that she will see the bandages and break again)

Nick: Or I could just turn around... keep you stable.

Jasmine: (Pulls her hand away from herself, looking at the clothes on the chair) (Quietly) “Yeah, that might be best.” (They cant really risk taking any chances with herself right now…)

Nick: *turns and stands with his back to her* Pull on my coat if you feel like you're going to start scratching your wounds...

Jasmine: (Quietly) “Okay…” (Grabs the new clothes off the chair and places them besides her on the bed. Normally, she would be very fast at switching out her clothes, but now she has to move slowly as not to hurt herself) (She dangles her legs off the side of the bed then gently and slowly lifts off the gown, tossing it aside. She freezes and stares blankly at the bandages that are wrapped around her body tightly, letting out a choked sigh)

Nick: *pulls out a screw driver and starts tinkering with his right hand. Hopefully he doesn't have to stop her*

Jasmine: (Shakes her head to push away THOSE thoughts. She snatches the undergarments and shoves them on quickly over the bandages, letting out a small hiss of pain from the fast movements. Just have to get this over with….)

Nick: *concerned* You okay?

Jasmine: (Leans back with one arm supporting her on the bed, the other wrapped around her waist as she reels slightly from the pain) (Shakily) “Y-yeah…” (Glances at the rest of the clothes)

Nick: You don't sound like it...

Jasmine: (Shakily, her voice breaking) “I am… fine…” (She looks back down at her chest bandages, then her lower ones with a small hitched breath. Uh oh… Her hand is absently already picking at her waist bandages… Shit) (Clutches the pants with her other shaking hand, afraid to move)

Nick: *spins on his heel and grabs her hands. Slightly irritably* Stop that, Rosalinda...

Jasmine: (Snaps out of the trance she was falling in with a suprised noise, her wrists twisting a little but she stops after a moment) (Whispering to herself) “Bloody hell…” (Her eyes are still casted down at the bandages as she sucks in a breath. Well THAT didn't last long….)

Nick: *firmly while glaring at her* Don't.

Jasmine: (Slowly lifts her head to look straight back at him, blinking a few times and remaining still)

Nick: It won't help you. You're just continuing a vicious cycle.

Jasmine: (Sighs, tilting her head down at herself) (Quietly) “I am trying… sorry.” (Looks at the shirt by her side. It was such a simple task…)

Nick: *picks up the long sleeved light blue blouse* Need help...?

Jasmine: (Nods her head, feeling ashamed that she is even asking)

Nick: *helps slip it over her head*

Jasmine: (Carefully moves her arms to guide them into the sleeves, this time taking care not to hurt herself) (Softly) “Thank you….”

Nick: Of course doll... *pulls it down a little to help add some support as she pulls her arms through.

Jasmine: (Gives Nick a glance as she starts to smooth out and fix the bandages that are now under her shirt, her fingers being very stiff. She then snatches the pair of pants and gently starts sliding them on, having to stand up a bit)

Nick: What's the look for??

Jasmine: (Quietly, looking down) “I am reminding myself not to scratch…” (Holds onto the bed for support as she puts on the pair of pants, her legs being wobbly)

Nick: Please don't...

Jasmine: (Finishes dressing herself and sits back on the bed, going back to smoothing out the bandages so her clothes are almost seamless) (Signing) “Im trying.”

Nick: I appreciate it...

Jasmine: (Nods her head and turns back to face Nick, finally realizing that he is now dressed as the Silver Shroud, making her smile a bit) (Quietly) “You are right. It does suit you well.” (Folds her hands in her lap)

Nick: Hm? *looks down* Oh this little number? *smiles thoughtfully as he looks back up at her* ...I suppose it does!

Jasmine: (Nods her head again with a small chuckle, strapping her Pip-Boy to her arm)

Nick: All set? *smiles*

Jasmine: (Quietly) “Yes...” (Stands up and gently starts shaking out her legs while holding onto the bed. She honestly cant wait to leave this hospital room, as the many attempts at escaping explained itself. It was just too much of a constant reminder of all the hell she crawled through…)

Nick: Before we go... *already sounds so tired of what's to come* Just promise me you won't try to run or fight me when it's time to come back...?

Jasmine: (Clicks her tongue, thinking it over carefully with a tilted head) (Signing) “Again, I cant fully promise that, just promise that I will try my hardest. I don't think I will runaway unless something bad or triggering happens, someone will end up catching me in this state anyways.” (Gives Nick an apologetic look, feeling bad that she is such a handful. Its part of her survival instinct to avoid places like this, so she wont say that there will not be some protesting. And its not like she can just turn it off for the day and ignore the years of trauma)

Nick: ...If you promise to tell me when you feel like hurting yourself I can try to arrange with Curie to clear you to leave. Can you at least do that?

Jasmine: (Sighs, putting a hand to her hip) (Signing) “Yes. But there is a good chance I wont be able to make myself move or call out to you if I distance myself.”

Nick: Then I suggest you don't. Can you do that?

Jasmine: (Shifting her weight on her footing) (Signing) “Another I will try my very hardest, cant be glued to your side and Im trained to be a lone wolf. Actually, I might not be even able to tell you directly that I want to or are hurting myself, hiding weakness from other people and all…”

Nick: Well I can't patch you up every time you nearly scratch yourself to death, kid. Hell, I'm not sure I can get to you on time if you do it again.

Jasmine: (Bites her tongue, looking down at herself) (Signing) “I actually feel really guilty for doing this… I actually want to take it back for the first time in awhile. So I mean it when I say I will try, because I love you.”

Nick: Then why do it at all...? It hurts to see you constantly destroy yourself this way... I feel like Sisyphus pushing a boulder up hill until it inevitably rolls back down.

Jasmine: (Shrugs her shoulders, glancing down and lifting the neckline of her blouse to glance in at the bandages) (Signing) “I don't understand why I do it, maybe in self hatred or an attempt to blind out the OTHER pains. Hate to say it but it works for both with me. But I do know that I actually don't want to die when I am not having an episode. Im sorry I am like this….” (Grips her wrists again, leaning a little on the wall)

Nick: Does it really work...? From my angle it doesn't seem so.

Jasmine: (Shrugs again. She doesn't really have a clear answer, just that doing it takes off a heavy weight in her. No doubt that it isn't a healthy thing to be doing…) (Signing) “It kept me from knocking out a few peoples teeth.”

Nick: And yet, it only reminds you of the pain you endured. *sighs* Once we leave this room, it seems there's no stopping ya... so you better think long and hard about how you want to handle yourself.

Jasmine: (Signing) “Im trying my very best. It’s the reason I didn't go completely crazy on myself when I first left the Vault or when everyone ended up dead.” (Quietly to herself) “They encouraged this….” (Shakes her head. She just wants to leave this room already) (Signing) “I will let you know if I want to hurt myself, and I’ll tell you if I somehow already did.”

Nick: *walks over and picks up the key card* I suppose that will have to do... *goes to the door and pulls it open*

Jasmine: (Walks to the door after him, her footing and coordination being a little wobbly and off) “……..” (Glares at the keycard, holding onto the door frame while resting a hand on her hip)

Nick: *puts it in his pocket* It's not going to hurt you, now.

Jasmine: (Tilts her head, taking a few steps out of the room) (Quietly) “I would not be surprised...” (Quickly glances up and down the halls to check her surroundings)

Dogmeat: *dutifully follows them, tail wagging*

The hall: *empty except for a few medical equipment. There aren't many people about, yet in the Vault in general*

Jasmine: (Keeps herself close to the wall, feeling a bit woozy from, well, everything that has happened to her. Blood loss being the big one. She turns back and looks at Nick, waiting because she has no idea where they are going)

Nick: Need some support...? *extends his arm*

Jasmine: (Hesitantly looks at him, stepping closer. Something is still screaming at her not to take so much help. She knows she can walk around after losing most of her blood anyways)

Nick: I'm not going to hurt you...

Jasmine: (Quietly) “I know… Dad. It is just hard for me to ask.” (Reaching for his arm)

Nick: *steps a bit closer so she can take it* You need the help... I'm giving it.

Jasmine: (Takes his arm and links it with hers for support while holding his hand. She leans in a little closer, glancing up at him) (Whispering softly and slowly) “They made me walk alone after fighting. I would be half alive, bleeding, and barely moving… “Help yourself.” Was all they said.” (Looks down at herself, sucking in a breath. She would explain further if she could talk more. If she had asked someone to help her back then, it would most likely end up with a slap or stick to the head)

Nick: I would never do that to you, kid... I'm a synth, not a monster. *walks her down the hall, trying to keep her steady*

Jasmine: (Nods her head as she lets Nick lead her) (Softly) “I know, I trust you.” (Squeezes his hand a bit)

Nick: Do ya, now...? *smiling down at her*

Jasmine: (Nods her head again) (Quietly) “Yes. That is why I did not scream when you helped clean me up then dressed me. You are not going to hurt me.” (Gives Nick a look. Did he not understand just how much she trusted him? She lets herself be more of a kid in front of him and she lets him near when she is vulnerable)

Nick: *just nods*

Jasmine: (Lifts up her other arm to check her Pipboy for the time, clicking her tongue as she walks)

Nick: Y'know, most clients only trust me to a certain extent. Not as much as you or Lucille, though. Still trying to wrap my head around that...

Jasmine: (Looks up at Nick from her Pip-Boy with her childlike eyes, blinking a few times as she tries not to stumble her footing. Its a little hard to walk while focused on something else, so she is grateful for Nicks help)

Nick: And Ellie, the sweet girl, always worrying about me... What would I do without people like any of you...? *pauses for a moment realizing the mortality of the people he cares for- he'll lose them one by one until he's finally alone with just their fading memories to keep him company*

Lucille: *actually taking a nap in the agency. Dealing with her robots finally tired her out*

Jasmine: (Tilts her head with worry at his sudden pause, gently squeezing his hand and tugs on his arm) (Quietly) “What is wrong?”

Nick: The thought of one day being alone again and forgetting the people I care about. *shakes his head with a sad smile* Hopefully that'll be a long time coming...

Jasmine: (Leans her head on his shoulder, her eyes getting a bit teary) (Softly) “Yeah, hopefully…” (Bites her tongue at the reminder of something. She hasn't seemed to age even a bit since she left the Vault….)

@lucilleandherrobots

#fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #fallout oc #fallout original character #nick valentine #curie #dogmeat

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fablewritesnonsense · 1 year

Text

Lost In The Commonwealth

Chapter One: All Was Gone

Their husband was murdered in front of their eyes. Their son had been ripped from his arms. Thanks to some freak malfunction everyone had died.

Except Bentley.

And somehow in that first day's worth of adrenaline they'd run through concord with a dog looking for people to help, killed so many men whose death rattles still echoed in their mind's ear, and had taken down some freakish iguana.

Now they sat in the corner of Sean's dilapidated old room, arms wrapped around knees pulled to their chest, as the dog tried to comfort them.

But it was all so much, too much.

"There's a good boy, Dogmeat," Garvey said gently, walking into the room. "Ms. Price, are you alright?"

"I need time, Garvey," Bentley muttered, looking up as he knelt down before them. "This is all just… so much."

"I'm afraid this is the way of the world now Ms. Price," He replied.

"Just call me Bentley," they muttered. "Easier on everyone." Garvey nodded, seeming to struggle with a question for a moment.

"Feel free to tell me if I'm overstepping, but was Price your husband's last name or…"

"It was," they muttered. "But, my parents are dead too so not much use going by Thomas now either. No matter what I do it's old memories dragged up." He nodded and sighed.

"I can't help you with your grief. I don't know that anyone here has lost their spouse. The Longs lost their boy, but Marcy's a bit touchy about the subject," He said, placing a tentative hand on the arm around their leg. "But if you need to vent or a shoulder to cry on, I'm right here." Bentley nodded and sighed.

"I appreciate it, but I'm not ready to talk about it just yet," they said softly. He nodded.

"Well, best I can do then is keep you distracted. I'm trying to rebuild the Minutemen and Sturges wants to get this place up and running," he grunted, getting to his feet. "Just come get one of us when you're ready."

Bentley watched him walk out of the room, head leaned back against the wall. Dogmeat adjusted his head to his head to look them in the eyes and huffed a sigh.

"Yeah yeah," they sighed. "Let's go find Sturges." Dogmeat hopped up, tail wagging and circled Bentley as they walked out into Sanctuary.

***

Two weeks they spent trying to get Sanctuary in proper shape for the new occupants, largely on their own. Sturges was trying to patch up the houses, the Longs we're busy with the crops, Garvey with the Minutemen, and Mama Murphy… well it was probably best she didn't try to help.

But Bentley figured out a way to get water going with some pointers from Sturges, sewed up enough beds for everyone, and improvised a defense point for Garvey. It wouldn't have taken so long if they hadn't had to drop everything to fend off raiders and Super Mutants.

Those things had given them nightmares the following night.

"You think those are bad, you should see the ferals," Marcy quipped once Garvey had calmed Bentley down from their panic attack.

"The fuck are ferals?" They asked shakily, looking to Garvey. He shot Marcy a dirty look.

"Feral Ghouls, it's hard to explain. If you head to Diamond City you see some eventually," he said.

"The radiation melted their brains so now they're shambling corpses," Marcy said.

"Don't you have Tatos to take care of?" Garvey asked firmly.

This made Bentley stave off their trip to Diamond City for another couple weeks. Instead choosing to help Garvey in getting the Minutemen up and running.

***

Bentley managed to slip away from the collection of new Minutemen that were having a bonfire with Sturges and the Longs, clutching at a bottle of wine that they’d looted from the last raider’s den they’d been asked to storm. Dogmeat followed them, ears down and whining as they hid in the closet of Sean’s room. They slid down the wall and to the floor with a sigh, and Dogmeat laid his head on their lap. He watched them shakily try to open the wine.

“Let me help you with that, General,” Garvey said, appearing out of nowhere to pluck the bottle out of their hands.

“Please stop calling me that,” Bentley said with a shaky laugh, taking the newly opened bottle from him and taking a swig.

“Nah, calling you by your name feels too intimate for now,” he said, using one foot to pull up a chair. “Why are you hiding? We’re celebrating you, you know?”

“I’ve killed so many people,” they muttered, their hand tightening on the neck of the bottle. “I know they weren’t good people, but…”

“It gets easier,” he said. “It’s a matter of life or death here. Just take your time.”

“That doesn’t help,” Bentley said with a dark laugh. He smiled and shrugged.

“May I, perhaps, make a suggestion?” He asked.

“I’m all for suggestions,” Bentley said, taking a sip of wine.

“When we met, you said you were looking for your son,” he said, glancing at the crib in the corner. Bentley heaved a sigh, but nodded. “Perhaps the distractions here aren’t enough anymore, and you need to go find him. I think some closure might do you good.” Bentley stared out the window behind him for a moment, thinking it over.

“That’s not a bad thought. Perhaps in the morning,” they said softly. He nodded and stood.

“Would you like for me to come with you?” He asked, sounding very near hopeful.

“No, you stay here where you’re needed,” They said, taking a sip of wine. “Let’s be real Garvey, you run this militia more than I do. Call me a General all you want- and please don’t- but you’re the one that keeps them going on a fundamental level. Stay here with them.” Garvey heaved a sigh, but he nodded and left.

Bentley stroked Dogmeat’s fur, sipping on their wine as they listened to the party continue on outside.

If you enjoyed this chapter, leave a like and a comment here, and also consider clicking on the header link to leave a kudo and comment on AO3! Maybe even bookmark it and subscribe to my account? You'll get notifications when I post updates!

Have a wonderful day!

#fallout 4 #fanfic #fallout 4 fanfic #bentley price pt #fable writing stuff

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fallout-drabbles-n-stuff · 3 years

Note

How would the companions react to synth Shaun accidentally calling them dad/mom? I never know what to say, but your posts make my day thanks for being awesome! 💕✌

(Thank you ❤️)

Cait:

"Aye..Oh shite.."

•She wasn't stupid, she knew this day would come.

•She just didn't think Shaun would say it so nonchalantly, as though she was always his "mom".

•She can't help but stare, her mouth going dry and ground beginning to sway beneath her feet.

•She just hopes he doesn't notice.

Curie:

"Que viens-tu de dire..*clears throat*."

•It caught her completely off gaurd.

•He slipped up and said while she was teaching him a little bit of French, so yeah, totally off gaurd.

•Either way, she got over her shock and wrapped an arm around his little shoulders.

•She could definitely get used to having him call her that.

Danse:

"Hello shaun, um, you..do you feel up to joining me for some shooting practice? It's never too early to train, plus I think it would be best that we put your laser rifle modification to the test."

•Ya'll know the "O.O" face that Danse makes? Well he makes it then.

•Tries his level best to keep his composure but just ends up rambling.

•So very proud, but also terrified because now he feels like the official responsibility of the title is his- despite already carrying out his fatherly duties way beforehand.

Deacon:

"Yes?"

•It was a very good thing that he was so well versed in putting up facades,

•Deacon's whole world livened with that accidental word but he knew that dropping to his knees and sobbing like a baby wasn't going to blow over well with the kid that was just trying to ask him if he's seen a hot plate nearby.

•Still, there's no denying that Deacon finally felt a sense of completion in his life...now he just couldn't wait to tell sole.

Gage:

"..*chokes on nuka-cola* W-what's going on, kid?"

•When I say he nearly has a heart attack...

•Adjusting to the whole "your boss that is also your lover has a kid" thing was something for him to conquer, having Shaun just outright call him dad was a shock and a half.

•Regardless of how stunning it was, he won't deny that it made his rotten little heart skip a beat.

•He'd probably have to hear the boy say it a couple more times for it not to be so jarring, but hey, a family is just what Gage wants..even if he doesn't consciously realize it.

Hancock:

"...."

•For the first time in a very long while, Hancock is rendered completely speechless.

•Thankfully Shaun let that slip on his way out the door, otherwise the situation would've been hundreds times more awkward.

•Hancock would be so overcome with emotions, he may just end up crying tears of joy into sole's chest.

Macready:

"Wha- Dad? Yeah, that's me.."

•He internally kicks himself for not handling this better. Duncan calls him that- so why did it feel so different from Shaun? Well, probably because he didn't expect it out of him...

•Nonetheless, he'll make as good of an effort as he can to be more smooth in the future. The last thing he wants to do is discourage the kid.

Maxson:

"Good morning, Shaun. Ready to- wait..what?"

•At first he has no idea what happened- already picking up Shaun's squire hat off his desk and placing it on the boy's head.

•When he finally registers what Shaun said, it's like he got splashed with cold water.

•He just kind of blinks..

•Despite not knowing how to respond, he puts the boy's hat on his head and gives him an almost scary grin (it's because he's freaking out.)

Nick:

"Kiddo, make sure to grab your lunch from Ellie on your way out. Also...don't let Nat talk you into getting in trouble."

•He's pretty chill with it, just quirking a smile that he hides behind a newspaper.

•He didn't want to make a huge deal out of it, but it was definitely a step in the right direction and he couldn't have been happier.

•He's so totally telling sole about this whenever they get back.

Piper:

"H-heh, what's up shaun?"

•She is majorly taken aback.

•Yeah- she's sort of been like a mom to Nat for years but..that was different. Nat never once called her mom.

•She tries to hide her shock as best as she can but fails miserably, luckily Shaun kind of laughs about it and dismisses himself.

•She hopes that he doesn't stop nonetheless, it's just gonna take some getting used to.

Preston:

"Hey bud, ready to go wash Dogmeat?"

•Preston doesn't skip a beat with it. He's been hoping that this would happen eventually, but he'd never be pushy.

•Even though he is chill, he's doing a little happy dance the second shaun goes to round up Dogmeat. He doesn't care who sees either, he's just happy that shaun sees him that way- even if it was just an accidental slip.

X6-88:

"....Shaun, I..I don't know what to say.."

•Considering they have history together, and mind you- X6 is close to him, there's a certain level of specialness to him saying this to X. However there is also some problems...

•On the outside, he'll just tense up and ignore it but in the inside he is having an internal breakdown. He loves shaun, but to be considered his dad- even if he's romantically involved with his parent- makes him feel strange.

#fallout 4 #fallout #paladin danse #fo4 companions #fallout companions #danse #elder maxson #porter gage #curie #deacon #x6 88 #cait #hancock #fo4 #nick valentine #arthur maxson #brotherhood of steel #macready

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nightingaelic · 3 years

Note

Fallout 4 companions respond to getting captured by Super Mutants (for optional added angst, maybe even getting turned into a super mutant). Strong not included for obvious reasons.

Ada: "Be advised: My guardian has equipped me with a tracking device in the event of my capture. You lack the privileges necessary to access their estimated time of arrival."

Ada is always matter-of-fact about her situation, even if her legs aren't functioning and she's squashed between two bags of body parts on the floor of an abandoned hospital. She's also patient, and content to wait until the sole survivor comes to retrieve her. In the meantime, she'll run escape scenario algorithms to determine the best way out of the building. Not affected by FEV for obvious reasons.

Cait: "Are you f***ing serious?! I'll tear your ears off with my bare hands and string them on a necklace! You don't know who you're messin' with, you green bastards!"

No one can match Cait in sheer viciousness when fighting to free themselves, but even she has her limits. The sole survivor would likely find her in a cage, hyperventilating and on the verge of tears. If the super mutants made the mistake of exposing her to FEV, she would tear the nest apart herself. Mutation would be another internal struggle for Cait, but I think she could successfully make peace with her new state of being if given enough time. A makeshift, giant baseball bat might help.

Codsworth: "Unhand me, you brutes! By God, the class of people I'm forced to associate with these days just keeps falling!"

Pre-war Codsworth is constantly offended by the super mutants' behavior, particularly their lack of housekeeping. He can't help bemoaning his situation for all to hear, something that would probably annoy the super mutants enough to bonk him on the dome until he shuts down. Some assembly required once the sole survivor catches up with him. Not affected by FEV for obvious reasons.

Curie: "While we are waiting, would any of you mind answering some questions for me about how you came to exist in this state? Ça vous dit?"

With a wide new world of oddities to study, Curie takes her abduction as yet another opportunity to learn. If nothing else, she can observe super mutants in their natural- or at least chosen- habitat. Prior to her synth transition, not affected by FEV for obvious reasons. Post-synth transition, however, I think Curie would take the mutation as an opportunity to study the effects that turn a person into a super mutant. I don't think she would lose her bubbly personality, similar to the way Lily the nightkin retained some of her old sense of self.

Danse: "You may have the upper hand today, but you and the other freaks of nature are fighting a losing battle." [spits]

Having lost the most to super mutants in the past, Danse fights his captors until he is completely spent. In fact, the sole survivor would have to practically carry the man home for a lengthy recovery, something his suit of power armor would definitely help with. Mutation into a super mutant is one of Danse's worst nightmares, and if exposed to FEV, he would beg the sole survivor to show him the same mercy he once showed Cutler.

Deacon: "Oh yeah, this reminds me of that summer I spent camping out on the National Mall. You even look familiar. Know anyone by the name of Uncle Leo?"

Like in every tight spot he's ever been in, Deacon masks his stress level with quick wits and quicker retorts. Most likely to slip his confines, let the sole survivor fight their way to the heart of the nest, then reveal he was free the whole time and they needn't have bothered. If exposed to FEV, Deacon would probably panic and enlist the sole survivor's help in searching for a cure, positive that a mutated countenance would irreparably damage his ability to help the Railroad. Then again, he might see it as a "new look" and use it to his advantage for a bit.

Dogmeat: [snarling]

Any super mutants that get their hands on Dogmeat are highly likely to lose fingers. Still, there's not much the canine can do if he's put in a cage, other than bark and wait for rescue. While FEV leaves many dogs as aggressive shells of their former selves, I think Dogmeat would be largely okay with his new green-and-bulky form and would still happily guard settlements and follow the sole survivor around, not unlike Gracie from Far Harbor.

Hancock: "Whoa, whoa relax. I've got time to hang out for a bit, no need to get all worked up. Don't stain the coat, I doubt you can cough up the caps to get it cleaned."

Of all the companions, Hancock is the most unbothered by becoming a super mutant captive. It's just another wasteland adventure, albeit one where the opposing cast of characters are all at least two feet taller than him. He might earn some bumps and bruises for being unable to keep his smart mouth shut, but he'll just bide his time until he spots an opening to wreak havoc and escape, or until the sole survivor comes along to wiggle him out. Not affected by FEV for obvious reasons.

MacCready: "You know, I'm getting real sick of you green lunatics. Spent almost a decade living next door to some of your cousins, and they knew enough not to mess with me."

Upon capture, MacCready would roll his eyes and accept that he's going to have to wait for some help. He'd get more desperate the longer his wait went on though, envisioning a world where Duncan lost his dad without getting to say goodbye. Mutation wouldn't necessarily dampen his spirits at first: After all, if anyone can find a cure, it's the sole survivor.

Valentine: "Not exactly a group of masterminds, are you?"

At this point, Nick is used to getting abducted and locked up by just about every group in the Commonwealth. He knows super mutants well enough to know they don't listen to reason, but he can't resist getting in a jab or two about how he's far from edible. Not affected by FEV for obvious reasons.

Piper: "So, uh, what's say I write up a column about how super mutants are seriously misunderstood creatures and we'll call it even? No?"

Piper might have similar levels of confidence as Deacon, but hers are much more likely to waver when faced with possible death by ingestion. Her quips would be fewer and more nervous until the sole survivor arrived, at which point she would put her game face back on and cheer her rescuer along. If exposed to FEV, she would beg the sole survivor to help her find a cure for Nat's sake, and eventually weasel the information about Virgil out of them.

Preston: "I didn't need to get up close to know why you're called 'uglies,' but here we are."

While terrified at what the super mutants might do to him, Preston is the most level-headed when captured. He's already great under pressure in battle, and he's used to setting his own fears aside to find solutions for his woes. Most likely to have more people coming to his rescue than the sole survivor alone, due to his role with the Minutemen. If exposed to FEV, Preston would likely accept his fate with dignity, and make the sole survivor promise to dispatch him if he turns violent. I don't think he would, though, and the Minutemen would probably be more accepting of a super mutant officer than most.

X6-88: "I can afford to wait for field assistance, mutant. They will not make the mistakes I did."

X6-88 accepts his predicament calmly, like he accepts everything that happens to him. If unable to free himself, he will patiently wait for the Institute help he knows is coming, even if it's just the sole survivor with a pipe pistol. Regarding FEV mutation, turning into a super mutant might be the straw that breaks the camel's back for X6-88. In the Institute's eyes, the Courser is now hideous and no longer viable in the field: In X6-88's opinion, though, he is even stronger and more dangerous than he was before. I could see him finally choosing to desert his post out of a growing sense of self-preservation once transformed.

BONUS!

Gage: "Well look who's suffering from delusions of adequacy! I'd call you f***ers dumb as rocks, but at least a rock can hold a door open."

Porter Gage is great at heckling, and just good enough that he toes the line right up to where super mutants would start to understand he's insulting them. The sole survivor would likely find a gaggle of them around his confinement space, convinced he's complimenting them when he's actually being very rude. Breaking him out gives him the biggest smile. Becoming mutated himself might actually benefit Gage in the long run, as the raiders he used to be wary of would instead find themselves newly-wary of the Overboss' right-hand man.

Longfellow: "Too bad you aren't one of the more reasonable ones. Might've saved your skin."

Longfellow treats his own capture with a sense of humor, acknowledging that he's not as young as he once was and might need help now and then. Chuckles the whole time the sole survivor is fighting their way to him, and grateful upon release. If turned into a super mutant, he'd shrug, accept his fate, and ask to be escorted to live with his friend Erickson up near Far Harbor.

Maxson: "I welcome the day you and your kind meet total destruction."

If Danse is angry about being captured by his sworn enemies, Maxson is seething. Kidnapping a Brotherhood Elder is something that shouldn't even be possible in his eyes, let alone by super mutants. Once freed, he would do his best to erase the nest from the earth: Fire, missiles, tactical nukes if necessary. Also like Danse, Maxson would order the sole survivor to mercifully dispatch him if he were mutated. Additionally, he'd have them destroy any evidence of his exposure to FEV, and simply turn in his holotags with the news that he had perished in the line of duty.

Desdemona: [livid silence]

Plunks herself down, lights a cigarette if her hands are free, and waits. Eventually, the sole survivor or Glory will turn up, and she'll give them one, lingering look of disappointment before vanishing into the Commonwealth ruins. Least likely to get captured in the first place. If mutated, she would reassume her job as leader of the Railroad with no comment, and everyone else would know better than to ask.

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nukacoola · 3 years

Note

Companions react to Danse stepping out of power armor for the first time!

Cait:

She would look Danse up and down very obviously and grin which would make him extremely uncomfortable.

“Ya’outgha get out of that thing more often Dansey. Who knew there were cookies in that tin can of yours.”

She obviously isn’t actually interested in Danse. Way too boring. But she’s not one to toss out eye candy just cause it isn’t her favorite flavor. She wouldn’t actively follow him but for fun and also to get on his nerves she would definitely cat-call him everytime he was in hearing range. Deacon and Hancock might join in for a few comments if they don’t have anything better to do.

She would not stop unless sole made a convincing plea or reason for why she should and maybe not even then.

Danse would not respond or look at Cait but he would be very red and never get out of his suit in front of her again.

Codsworth:

“Why Paladin Danse I dare say you’ve been keeping up your workout routine! Cheers to your excellent health whether in or out of your power armor!” Codsworth is reassured that his owner is traveling with someone so equipped for the struggles of the wasteland.

“Uh, thank you, Codsworth.” Danse would feel a bit awkward but he would appreciate the compliment.

“Might I polish that for you while you're otherwise engaged? It seems to be in a just dreadful state and I would like nothing more than for you to be looking your best in your wasteland escapades!” Though he is reassured by Danse’s physical state and abilities, he is mortified by the state his armor is in. All the scratches, dings, and dirt? It’s just horrible. Codsworth has always wanted an opportunity to fix that suit up and is pretty happy that the day has finally arrived.

“I- If you’d like to you can.”

“Oh good! I do so love a difficult task!” With that Codsworth would zoom away to procure the necessary supplies to return Danse’s armor to it’s original state. Danse didn’t really know whether or not he should be offended at the robot’s comments but he decided to just continue about his business and not think about it too much.

Curie:

“Oh Monsieur Danse, you are quite zee lovely specimen! I would be eager to do a physical examination if you would allow me to.” Ever since leaving the vault, Curie has been astounded at how many different sorts of humans there are. Danse is particularly interesting to her because of the amazing athletic feats he does so regularly. She is also interested in studying the effects of constant power armor usage on the human body. When she sees him step out of his suit for the first time and sees his overly muscular physique, it just tacks on another reason she wants to study him.

Before Blind Betrayal:

“The only specimen that needs examining is you, synth. Don’t talk to me unless you’re submitting yourself to the Brotherhood.” The only reason Curie isn’t already on the Prydwen is because Sole thinks it’s their friend. It bothers Danse immensely that Sole hasn’t destroyed or used this inhuman thing already.

(Don’t get mad at me he literally says this in game.)

Curie is very hurt, she expected this reaction but it still hurt. She was still getting used to feelings such as the pained ones she felt in moments like these.

After Blind Betrayal:

“No. Thank you.” Danse’s words were strained. Being around Curie was pretty awful for him. He had treated her so terribly before and he still had strong feelings of disgust towards her despite what he knows now. Everytime he sees her and has those feelings of hate and disgust, he remembers that he and Curie are the same. He’s still struggling to overcome the years of propaganda that were drilled into him.

Curie is disappointed. Did Danse not see they are the same? If he didn’t believe in her humanity then he would have to not believe in his own. It is very confusing for Curie. She hopes that he will eventually go back on his denial of her offer. He would be a very interesting specimen.

Deacon:

He would be surprised that Danse would be able to wear that clunky thing so much in the first place. He wouldn’t be surprised at how muscular he is under the suit though. It takes a lot of strength to operate those suits. He’d read that before they were fully developed, a lot of trial runs had resulted in really terrible accidents. The kind of accidents that crush all of your bones at once or remove your top half from your bottom.

Deacon would definitely make a few jokes. “Hey the sardine’s outta the can!” “Isn’t getting out of that bulldozer against Brotherhood policy or something?” “And I thought it was glued on! Learn something new everyday.”

Danse would scowl at his comments but say nothing. He did not like Deacon one bit. That man’s hiding something and if it turns out what he’s hiding will harm Sole or the Brotherhood’s mission, there was gonna be hell to pay. Danse could’ve sworn he’d seen him on the Prydwen a few times but whenever he looked back again to check, he was gone. Danse didn’t much like the idea of leaving his power armor alone with Deacon around but Sole assured him he’s harmless. We’ll see...

Whenever Danse returned to his suit Deacon would stand suspiciously close to it and act like he was trying to play cool after almost being caught doing something nefarious. He would never get tired of watching Danse carefully inspect every part of the armor before apprehensively getting in. Man that guy’s fun to mess with.

Dogmeat:

He was so surprised! He thought this human was just made of metal! But now Dogmeat can play and jump and lick! Yes!!

Danse has no idea how to deal with a dog he wasn’t allowed to kick so he would just try to awkwardly push the pup off until Sole took care of it.

Hancock:

Oh HELL YES! Hancock has wanted to punch this fucker since he first laid eyes on him. “HEY SOLDIER BOY, TIME TO SEE WHAT YOU CAN DO OUT OF YOUR DAMN COWARD COFFIN!” He would make a beeline towards the paladin and the paladin would speed walk towards the ghoul as well. Sole barely let him insult the damn freak but this was a direct attack of which he was most definitely gonna defend himself from.

Sole would freak out a bit and try to get in between the two. They would both try to get Sole out of the way so they could pummel each other. A brief alliance in order to facilitate their battle. This was too sweet of an opportunity to miss.

“Sorry Sunshine, this is happening.”

“Sole, it has directly started an altercation with me and I intend to see it through.”

If they both had a great relationship with Sole after a bit of panicked begging to both parties, the men would begrudgingly back off. They would, however, insult each other viciously despite Sole’s protests.

“You have no fucking idea how lucky you are meathead. I swear to god if they weren’t here…”

“You call me a meathead but you’re the one who’s rotting, ghoul.”

They would continue to jab each other until Sole dragged Danse off to do what he got out of his suit to do in the first place.

If one or both of them didn’t have a close relationship with Sole, well, it wouldn’t be pretty. They would forcibly move Sole out of the way and fight for a while. Though Danse is much bigger than Hancock, Hancock is quicker and better at hand to hand. Danse, being unused to fighting outside of his armor, was ultimately unable to beat the ghoul. Hancock landed one final blow to his face, knocking Danse flat. When he stayed down Hancock laughed loudly and spit at him.

“Done in by the best, lucky you.” It would be a huge blow to Danse’s ego and he’d resent Hancock even more now. Hancock would gloat constantly when Danse was around. “Heyyy, there’s my favorite punching bag!” “Come on over Dansey I won’t bite!” He wouldn’t out of shame, but if Danse ever did try to retort, Hancock would just taunt him. Saying something like “Oh yeah? Ya know my favorite way to settle conflicts is by beating the other asshole into the dirt. Hop outta that suit and we can go for round two.”

MacCready:

Mac’s always thought of Danse as an annoying asshole. He still thinks of him this way but when he stepped out of that armor for the first time. Ho lee sh-crap. MacCready might have to look into joining the Brotherhood if the rest of those guys looked the same as Danse. He had expected him to be strong cause of the whole carrying 500 pounds of steel everywhere but his body was something Mac was not expecting and something he could look at for a while.

If Danse came near the merc he would probably clam up and blush a bit. If Danse caught him staring, he would annoyedly ask, “Is there a problem, civilian?”

“I- uh no.” any other day he would’ve fired back some snide remark but he couldn’t quite seem to think of one right now.

Nick:

Nick really couldn’t give less of a damn. He hated Danse, Danse hated him, and the two did their best to ignore each other.

Piper: Piper didn’t really care either. Sure he was muscular but she was very turned off by the everything else about him. All she really payed attention to was the possibility of an exclusive interview or an inside look at the Brotherhood’s workings. Danse would never agree to either of those though. Preston: Preston didn’t care. He already knew you had to be strong to wear power armor especially if you wore them as much as Brotherhood Paladins did. He didn’t like the Brotherhood and by extension, he didn’t trust Danse. Preston was mannerly of course, for Sole, but he knows Danse thinks very little of the Minutemen so he didn’t try too hard to be kind. Strong: Strong thinks this is good time to smash strong human. He has killed many brothers but he wears metal suit. He is weak without metal suit. Human friend tells Strong that if Strong smash, Strong will not find milk of human kindness. Strong angry, Strong want to smash, but Strong not smash.

Danse would never get out of his suit near Strong unless he absolutely had to. Sole insisted that the abomination wasn’t going to be a problem but he didn’t believe it for a second. It took all of his willpower to not open fire on the thing whenever he saw it. Sole has poor taste in companions...

X6:

X6 wouldn’t care. He would consider taking this opportunity to get rid of the high ranking Brotherhood soldier, but it would make Sole upset and would do relatively little to the Brotherhood as a whole.

Ask and ye shall recieve! I decide the winner on Hancock’s one by their special stats. How the hell does Hancock have such good stats and he’s still terrible in a fight??

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hyper-cryptic · 3 years

Note

Oh yes, an ask ! What's the opinion/relation of Kate on the others companions ? Do they have a bestie ? Does she hate/dislike one of them ?

Hell yeah!! I am glad you ask about her, I absolutely adore talking about Kate! By the way, really funny fact, I have actually romanced most of the companions (Danse, I am coming for that ass), but canonicaly, their partners are Hancock and Nick! :D

Cait:

She admires her! Like, a lot! They think she is a super strong person, in both meanings! She loves how brave, how sassy she is! She’s just really fun to be with overall in Kate’s opinion!

About her drug addiction, Kate never really minded, but they were really concerned about her health. When Cait told her that she wanted to be cured, they didn’t hesitate to help her.

Kate knows Cait can be a better person, especially under her influence! She constantly makes subtle comments that might make Cait change her opinion on things. Every once in a while they sit down to talk about her insecurities if she’s ok with it!

Funny extra: Since their names sound literally the same, Kate asks to be called Kat! Or to call Cait, “Irish Kate” tho expect a very angry irish person coming down your way.

Curie:

Absolutely LOVES her!! They love her curiosity and optimistic personality! Thinks she’s adorable.

They were very supportive of her wanting to be a synth, she thought it was very interesting! Though, was also very worried about how they would get to it...She was relieved that she didn’t have to take anybody's life!

Kate loves to make Curie flustered. It’s honestly adorable to her how she gets mad about getting compliments because she gets distracted, or confused. She lets her know why, tho! Hahah.

Codsworth:

He is family. He had been since before the war. It was the only person she could actually be herself.

When the bombs dropped she couldn’t stop thinking about him, if he was fine, if he had survived. When they got out of the vault, she was so happy to see Codsworth alive and well.

Kate wasn’t able to leave Codsworth’s side during 1 whole months, if it wasn’t for him and Preston, she would’ve given up on everything, on the ‘whealth, on shaun, on herself.

She adores his dumb sense of humor and his ridiculous british accent.

Danse:

She...likes him? She certainly enjoys his company and thinks he is kind and great but his bigotry and loyalty to the BOS makes her really uncomfortable.

Kate could connect to him on an emotional level, but never actually be interested in him, no matter how much they tried. BOS was just a major shit that made her uneasy. She only joined because they could be helpful to get rid of the Institute, and she was going to until…

They straight up refused and told off Maxson, but he didn’t give her the choice. When Haylen begged them to hear out Danse, they told her that she didn’t need to worry at all and would do everything in her power to keep Danse safe. They tried to change Maxson’s mind about Danse, about synths, but as she expected, he didn’t. After this whole incident, she quit the BOS and decided to destroy the Institute with the Minutemen.

She offered him to stay with her, on the lighthouse, but after a BOS attack to a settlement she left him in, Danse insisted to let him live alone, that it wasn’t safe to have him living there so close to Shaun. Kate sadly had to agree, she couldn’t risk to lose Shaun or any of her companions. She still goes and visits him every once in a while! Even got him to meet Shaun! They got along and share a love for cowboys.

Deacon:

LITERALLY BESTIES. Imagine those girls in highschool that are always together, wear matching clothes and call each other “slut”, “whore” and “bitch” affectionately? That’s them.

They literally wear matching clothes when they travel together. (I make ‘em wear matching clothes…)

Kate always introduces them as “ The Death Bunnies”.

She catched up immediately with his compulsive lying. She doesn’t mind it, in fact she might even go along with it, depending on the context and what type of lie it is. She tries to help him with it, along with his impostor syndrome (...which comes...literally sometimes?) and he tries to help her too. Hoes got each other’s back.

If they aren’t with their partners, they are with Deacon. Hell, even when they are with Nick and Hancock she brings him, of course if it’s not private. Deacon gets along with Nick so it isn’t much of a trouble...but they literally have no idea why Hancock dislikes him, tried to ask him but he said “some things are best left unknown”, which left Kate even more curious but respected his...privacy...I suppose? She asked Deacon, he said that it was no biggie, but to get Hancock to hold a long grudge like that is really weird so she can’t believe him. What did he do? She might never know...

They adore him overall, and loves his dumb comments, which she tries to always reply without bursting in laughter.

Dogmeat:

Light. Of. Her. Days. Well! Of course after her partners!! *gulps*

They can’t go on with her days if she doesn’t pet Dogmeat at least...twice. She gives him kisses, pats and plays with him at the end of the day.

When they first met Dogmeat, they almost couldn’t believe it. It was like a light in the dark, he definitely made her days easier as she was trying to stay stable during those 2 dark months.

She almost never goes out with Dogmeat because she is really worried the radiation might affect him, or even die out there. She usually has this fear with most of her companions, but specially him, as he is a literal animal and will probably not know if something is really dangerous or not just looking at it.

She usually falls asleep with him on the couch.

Hancock:

Do I really even have to say anything? He is her everything along with Nick.

Kate’s first impression of him was: “Oh. FUCK. HOT?!”

Okay but really, she found him attractive and interesting after that first interaction. They had their doubts about him..you know him being a politician and all, but they quickly disappeared the more they interacted with him. Damn, the more she knew about him, the more she was interested in him.

About Bobbi, she was totally into robbing McDonough, she did question Bobbi a lot though, as she instantly noticed how shady she was. She actually realized they were going for Hancock instead mid-way but waited to get there to confront her, make sure she was right. She didn’t do it for Hancock, instead because she wasn’t going to rob somebody who didn’t deserve being robbed. Tried to tell her to get out, nobody needed to be hurt but Bobbi refused to, so she had to pull the trigger. She knows it was the right thing to do, but can’t help but think if it could’ve ended differently.

She loves Hancock so much, they can’t stop thinking about him. “What would Hancock think about this?”, “Hancock would love this”, “I wish Hancock could see this”, “I miss Hancock”, literally being so clingy.

Overall, she thinks he’s such an amazing person: he’s kind, he’s brave, he’s funny, he’s understanding, he’s adorable, he’s caring, he’s determined, he’s (very) handsome...I really could go on.

She tries so hard to get him to understand that he is an amazing person. He appreciates the efforts.

“watch you sleep” by girl in red is totally their song.

MacCready:

LITERALLY A LITTLE BROTHER. They adore him! They love how funny and sassy he is.

Kate had to constantly tell him that she doesn’t care about caps and that he can keep ‘em if he wanted, that it looked like he needed it more than her, and she’d be right!

When Mac told her about Duncan she was upset at first, how could he just leave his child like that? Never acted on it, since she knew it would make it worse, but she could quickly understand where he came from and why he did what he did. Didn’t hesitate to help him find the cure for Duncan.

They share a love for snipers and long ranged weapons so...that’s a topic they talk about a lot!

They both geek out about Silver Shroud every once in a while! Listen to the plays together and stuff like that!

Nick:

HERE WE GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

They didn’t like him when they first met. They liked Nick’s humor, but couldn’t stop thinking about how much he acted like a cop, and let’s say Kate had their share of bad situations with cops because of race, and shit like that. Kate didn’t know a lot about synths at the time, so she just guessed somebody programmed a fucking cop persona into him. And she wasn’t going to deal with a cop bot that probably had a stick up his ass.

Eventually, when she got so oversaturated with work, and stressed out with the whole Institute shit, she decided to go and do some of the cases with Nick, she couldn’t wait to show this “cop” that even a “civilian” could do his work. As she worked through the cases, she began to notice that Nick was...actually ok? She had more knowledge about synths at this point, but still didn’t understand how Nick worked exactly. He did tell her that he was a prototype, between Gen 1 and Gen 3, so she quickly realized that he was no ordinary bot. She eventually warmed up to him, and could see the appeal.

It was like a bomb dropped inside her head when Nick asked if she was doing fine. Kate had never actually opened up with anybody, not even with Hancock. She mostly worked over her depression and anxiety by keeping herself busy and unhealthy thoughts like “they need me to be strong, I am a role model right now.” with the whole being a General thing, and the fact that so many people relied on her. Kate tried to be dismissive of it, but Nick could see right through her, and insisted that it was ok to open up. She had to get really drunk to do any of that shit! So they told him that they should both go to a “more private place”, as an excuse to get her hands on some alcohol. Didn’t end up drinking any alcohol, and just spilled most of it. Found comfort on his “origin story” with Diamond City.

He was a huge part in her full recovery, along with Hancock and Deacon. But honestly? If it wasn’t for him, it would’ve taken her snapping at anybody and being confronted about it to actually open up to anybody.

She didn’t realize she had any feelings for him until a month after that event. That they were storming into Eddie’s shelter that she realized that they loved him. All of this they were doing for him, the cute comments, the praising and trust they had in him...it became so clear why while he was talking to her after killing Winter, she couldn’t help herself but to dump on him why he was not just “a shell” how he was so much more than that. She didn’t actually confess her feelings to him there, but they were pretty close to doing it. If it wasn’t for her thoughts stopping her from doing it, what would happen with Hancock now? She still loved him deeply...

Eventually, two weeks after, they took a break at the end of the day from missions with Nick, at the empty bar that she had built inside the Castle. It was midnight and mostly everyone had gone to sleep, so they could talk about whatever they wanted and get as drunk as she wanted. They were having so much fun until Nick brought up something she had said that day they ended Winter’s life. Fuck. God, they wished they hadn’t been so busy to actually sit down with Hancock and ask him what he thinks of polyamorous relationships because she was way too drunk this time to stop herself from doing anything stupid. And she didn’t, Nick did, he corresponded but said that he couldn’t let her do this to John. Hah! Little did they know Hancock was super into the both of them. (I actually want to make a lil’ fic about this!!)

They just love him so much and connect with him on a whole new level. He and John make them so happy, she literally couldn’t ask for anyone or anything better than what they have going on.

I know it isn’t exactly a love song, but “Agnes” by Glass Animals reminds me of them.

Piper:

WHAT A LADY, AM I RIGHT? They adore her!!

She is literally her kind of lousy! Always speaking her mind, always speaking the truth. She admires what she does.

I really don’t have much to say about her, just that they really like her and that she thinks she’s a good friend and overall good person!

Was totally in to beat up McDonough’s ass.

Preston:

They think he is amazing!! He is so kind and caring, they like him a lot!

Let’s say that he liked him so much at some point they got together during those two months. It wasn’t a stable relationship and they both acknowledged that they just didn’t work. Besides, he was there when she met Hancock, and had this look in her eyes that he had never seen. Not to worry tho! He has been testing the waters with Sturges lately! ;)

They function better as friends! Besides, it was quite awkward for Kate their General/Soldier dynamic they had going on, so that was another thing!

She thinks he is so cool and amazing, and they let him know this!

Kate teases him about when they were a couple and they laugh it off.

Honestly, he was a big help for Kate during those months and she is really grateful for all his help. They were both really important for each other.

X6-88:

They didn’t get to know him as much as they wanted.

It all was happening so fast, they couldn’t do anything to convince him to get out of the Institute before it was too late.

And it was. They had to kill him along with the other coursers.

In their time as companions, they thought he was enjoyable to be with. He looked like he could be saved, but...yeah.

They made him a grave in the Institute’s remains.

Aaaaaaaaand, that’s all!! Gosh, that was loooong!! Can you see I was really eager to talk about Nick and Kate’s relationship? Yeah, that shit is long.

(I literally finished this yesterday...at 2 am or something)

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telli1206 · 4 years

Text

House of Tricks

Pirate Jay and Harry take a spin through a true house of horrors...Hell Hall.

I felt like the #Descendantsspookytime Hashtag needed more shorts, so here’s a little Pirate!Jay idea I’ve been toying with. I hope you enjoy it!

Also on AO3

WARNING: Some violence and non-con elements

-----

“Dammit Harry, I don’t think this is a good idea. If we get caught we’re dogmeat.”

Jay eyes Hell Hall warily, pausing on the path right in front of the door to stare at the dark, decrepit structure. Even with all of the decaying, crumbled buildings all over the island, this place still manages to creep Jay out.

Harry pauses next to him to follow Jay’s gaze, but simply chuckles at Jay’s leery expression, slapping him hard on the back as he makes his way past him and up to the door.

“Oy, chill, will ya? You saw the hag at the barge, too, plain as day. Everyone’s tryin’ ta grab all the special holiday garbage today, we can do whatever we want.”

Harry grunts in annoyance when he tries the door and finds it locked. But without a moment of hesitation, his hook is whipped off and already jammed into the lock, as he brings his head close to listen for it to jimmy open.

“But...why Hell Hall?” Jay asks. “We could definitely find an easier mark.”

Harry picks his head up and looks at Jay with a knowing smirk. “What are ye, not up fer the challenge? Aha!” He laughs triumphantly and pops himself up, almost bumping Jay in the face, but he jumps back just in time.

Still smiling, Harry keeps his eyes on Jay as he turns the knob and the door clicks open.

“Cruella’s got a load of rich furs in there, and ye know Cap’n would just love to get ‘er hands on ‘em. Either ta sell or just ta stick it ta the crazy bitch,” Harry notes with a wink.

Jay sighs defeatedly. He knows there’s no way to talk Harry out of making Uma happy. He’d gladly lose a limb for their beautiful captain, so a raid of Hell Hall would be a no-brainer. And evil knows, a “no-brainer” is Harry’s specialty.

“An’ I happened to notice a certain mutt was absent from mummy’s side,” Harry adds, making Jay’s ears perk with interest. “Betcha the cute lil’ thing is here protectin’ the furs. Ya can’t tell me that doesn’t get ya excited ‘bout it.”

Ok, maybe the guy’s got more brains than Jay thought.

He can’t fight the smile that creeps onto his face as he nods at Harry, stepping up eagerly now to follow his crewmate into the house.

Harry’s known for a while now about Jay’s fascination with the De Vil boy. Ever since Carlos first showed up at Dragon Hall, with his too cute curls and freckles, flashing a too bright smile that he hid nervously under a stack of too big books, Jay’s had a strong desire to see more of him. Up until now, this desire has mostly led to a lot of Jay bullying of the smaller De Vil. And while that activity does often lead to touching, it doesn’t so much help Jay with actually talking to the boy. So, the potential to come face-to-face with Carlos outside of school and away from their classmates was more than intriguing.

And scoring loot for their captain in the process was definitely a bonus.

The house seems unusually dark as they step foot inside. Jay’s used to darkness, but not ones so pitch black he can barely see a foot in front of him. He takes slow, very cautious steps as he lets his eyes get adjusted, but when he tries to grip onto Harry to make him do the same, the other teen just scoffs and shakes him off.

“What’re ye doin??” Harry groans, shoving past Jay as he picks up his stride. “We’ll never get anywhere if yeh crawl through here like a baby. Cruella’s gonna skin yer ass five feet fro-”

All is suddenly silent as Jay loses sight of Harry. Jay’s eyes whip around frantically, trying to locate the vanishing teen.

“Harry?” He takes a few more careful steps forward, his breath heaving as he tries to calm his racing heart. He starts to hear muffled sounds coming from...right next to him? No, the floor. Under the floor?

He looks down, aiming his gaze just past the toe of his boots. Grunting sounds are definitely below him...and then a hand is grabbing his foot.

Jay jumps and stumbles back, but the hand stays on his boot, gripping tightly as it pulls...Harry, out of a hole in the rotted wood floor.

“Harry! Jay grabs his arm quickly, dragging him back up onto the main level. “What the hell?”

“Watch yer step,” the pirate moans. “That las’ one’s a doozy.”

“No kidding,” Jay deadpans, leaning forward to peer into the blackness of the hole. “You think that was supposed to be a trap?”

Harry shrugs as they step around the opening to continue farther into the house. “Doubt it. This whole place’s fallin’ apart. It’s probably just a lucky break,” he jokes, chuckling at his own pun. But Jay notices that his pace has slowed down some, and he seems more alert to their surroundings.

What was once an elegant staircase is in front of them, with now overly worn carpet turning up at the ends, nails and rotten wood exposed. Huge drapes of wallpaper peel down from the walls, revealing a flaking drywall and some splintered framing.

Harry stays close to Jay’s side as they slowly ascend the first level of stairs. Jay lets his eyes roam each corner, taking in every possible open space that could have a surprise lying in wait for them.

When they finally reach the first landing of the stairs, Harry exhales deeply, choking back a laugh as he steps back and gives Jay some breathing room.

“Damn, I’m startin’ ta feel like such a lil’ pussy! I don’t know what I was expectin’ ta happen in a big empty house with jus’ a wee pup in it.”

Jay matches Harry’s breathy laugh, shaking his head at his own concerns. He did feel a little silly. What is he afraid of? Carlos is so much smaller and weaker than both Harry and him. There’s no way he could really stir up any trouble.

Jay slumps against the wall, breathing a sigh of relief at his revelation. His brain barely registers a soft kachink sound next to him, almost like the sliding of a metal door. He feels a whoosh of air then, and something zips by his arm. But before he can process what’s happening, he spots Harry’s wide fearful eyes, frozen in shock and locked on Jay.

“Oy, are you ok?” Harry shrieks, making Jay wince from the high-pitched tone. He grabs at Jay’s arm, pulling him away from the wall and standing protectively in front of him.

Jay fixes a confused look on Harry, at least until he cranes his neck around to see the...huge metal spears, jutting out of the wall that he was just leaning against.

He stares at them, stunned, when he feels the warmth of Harry’s hand on his arm. His own limb feels cold when pressed on by the pirate, and looking down he can see why. Trails of blood are dripping down, seeping out of a soaked tear in his shirt where one of the spears must have grazed him.

Harry grabs at Jay’s sleeve and rips the bottom half off, revealing a superficial cut across Jay’s bicep. Luckily it’s not bleeding much, and Harry simply uses the torn sleeve to tie over the wound, sealing in the blood as best he can, for now. They have plenty of first aid items for patching it up once they get back to the ship.

Jay nods a silent thank you to Harry, rubbing his arm that’s starting to sting. They both turn to peer up the stairs, quietly assessing their next move.

“Ya think...there’s more?” Harry hisses, peering up the darkened stairs. Jay starts to shrug, but a faint voice upstairs captures both their attention.

“Have you had enough?”

Harry and Jay both whip their heads toward the railing to see Carlos standing there, arms crossed and looking defiant.

“If you’ve got any brains in your skulls, I recommend you get the hell out now before you really get hurt.” Carlos’ challenging stare never falters, but Jay can see a slight shake in the boy’s shoulders even from his vantage point well below him.

Still, Jay’s never seen Carlos attempt to stand up to him before. The usually timid boy was acting bold, even a little vicious, as he did his best to stare down Harry and Jay in his home.

It was definitely hot.

“Yeah, right,” Harry teases, laughing at Carlos’ threat. “What else are yeh gonna do, lil’ boy? Throw yer big bad books at me?”

Harry slaps Jay on the back with a smile, motioning with his head for them to go upstairs. Jay nods silently and starts to follow behind him.

“Yeh better run, pup. You don’t wanna know what’s gonna happen to you after we catch yeh. I don’t appreciate lil' cutesy things tryin’ ta make threats at me.”

Carlos just shakes his head and pulls out some kind of remote from behind his back.

Jay pauses, eyes widening as Carlos hovers a finger over one of the buttons. He quickly jumps over and grabs for Harry to try to pull him away, but it’s already too late.

With the press of the button a soft click can be heard from above, and the clunk of something heavy dropping. With that a large white object on a rope comes hurtling towards Harry, connecting solidly with the side of his head and sending him toppling backwards on the steps. Jay leans forward to try to catch him, but the teen’s heavy frame takes them both down onto their backs, sprawling them uncomfortably onto the landing.

Jay groans, bracing himself on his arms as he slides his body out from under Harry. Harry is completely distracted and unhelpful, gripping his head tightly as he yowls in pain.

Jay spots the offending object just a few feet from where they lay and drags himself over to examine it. Rocks of all sizes are strewn all over, clearly spilling from the white...what looks like...a paint can?

“I tried to warn you,” Carlos calls out to them, giving an unconcerned shrug. “Now leave before something worse happens to you!”

Carlos backs away from the railing to leave, but stops in his tracks when he hears a loud growling.

“Ya lil’ runt!” Harry bellows, pushing himself off the ground and charging up the stairs.

Carlos screeches and makes a run for it down the hall, rapidly pushing buttons along the way. A hail of paint cans starts swinging at the stairs, but Harry’s speedy in his rage, darting and ducking through the barrage. Jay jumps into action to follow Harry, catching one of the paint cans just before it clocks him in the face and keeping his grip on the paint can as he runs. He uses it to knock away anything else that swings his way, averting paint can after paint can until he makes it to the top of the stairs. Once he’s successful, Jay drops the can and tries to catch up to Harry just in front of him.

“Harry! Stop! There might be more-”

Harry’s arms fly up just then, and his feet go over his head as he slams down onto his back with an infuriated grunt.

Jay slows down, swinging his arms out for balance when he notices a black substance streaked across the floor.

“Oil??” He whines, dragging his feet slowly towards Harry, who has yet to try standing up. “Stay there, Harry.”

“I’m gonna kill that mutt,” he mutters as he waits for Jay to grab his hand. Together, they manage to flip Harry over, and he carefully scoots over to the wall to slide himself up to standing.

“Chill, Harry. You’re just pissed that pup keeps outsmarting you. Maybe you should think about listening to me before you rush around every corner.”

Harry perks a brow at Jay. “You’re lovin’ this, aren’t ya? I think yeh’ve got a boner for that boy’s brain.”

Jay snorts, dragging himself to a stop as they reach Carlos’ door. “Fuck you, Hook. For your information, he’s got a cute ass, too.”

Harry throws his head back to laugh but winces, grabbing his still throbbing head. “Just lemme give ‘em one good rap on the head fer payback once we catch ‘em, then he’s all yours. I just wanna get Cap’n her furs and get outta here.”

Jay shakes his head as he slowly starts to turn the knob. “I’ll think about it. Just go for the furs, ok? I’ll take care of Carlos.”

Harry nods, putting his hand on the door to push his way through. But Jay stops him with a firm hand on his chest.

“Whoa, boy. What did I just say about going slow? We’re not out of the woods yet.”

Harry hesitates, then decides to take a step behind Jay, waving him to go in first.

Jay creaks the door open and is met with inky black darkness. He pushes it wide, opening it as far as he can to try to cast the dim twilight from the hall inside to illuminate his way as much as possible. It’s not much, unfortunately, so Jay does his best to squint his eyes into the blackness. The small beams of lights flicker over a flash of silver in front of them, so Jay opts to pull Harry in along the wall, choosing against finding out the hard way if that glint was from a blade of some sort.

“Stay against the wall,” he hisses, pressing Harry back. They sidle slowly, keeping their bodies as flush as they can with the walls inside the dark room. Jay can see a small sliver of light and grabs at Harry’s arm, pulling him to follow faster. They’re SO close, and Jay’s getting desperate to free them from Carlos’ wrath before anything else happens.

Jay’s fingers finally fumble around a door handle, and he quietly sucks in his breath once he has a good grip.

“Heeeere’s Jay!” He taunts, yanking open the door and pulling Harry with him.

Carlos jumps up quickly from his spot on the floor, the remote bouncing in his fingers from his sudden action. Jay leaps forward to successfully grab it away, releasing an unsteady Harry in the process.

“Aha!” He shouts triumphantly, holding the remote over a wide-eyed Carlos. But before he can react, a stumble and crash from behind Jay has them both turning, just in time to catch Harry’s yelp and deafening clang.

“It’s a fuckin’ bear trap! Jay!” Harry screeches, bouncing around as he lets out little squeals of pain. The trap is latched to the back of his pant leg, barely attached but most clearly grappled to some skin, if Harry’s pained expressions and sounds tell them anything.

Jay clamps a hand to Carlos’ shoulder, pushing him back against the wall and throwing him a menacing glare. “Stay,” he demands, finger pointed right into Carlos’ face. The boy squeaks, but nods quickly.

“Jay! Jay! Get it offfff! Get it off!” Harry pleads as he wails pathetically.

Jay rolls his eyes and stomps forward, grabbing onto the trap and ripping it off with one strong tug. Harry howls and grips his leg, ripping apart the rest of his shredded pants so he can check for any blood.

“It’s just a scratch, calm down,” Jay sighs. “Now suck it up and go get your booty,” he tells Harry with a wave of his hand. The open door had revealed the mass of furs in the room they just braved, ready and waiting to be stolen.

Harry claps his hands excitedly when he spots the furs, jumping up to hurriedly start yanking them off the hangers and over his shoulders.

“No!” Carlos yips fearfully, reaching out to stop them.

But Jay pushes him until he thuds back against the wall, bracing his arms on either side of Carlos’ head as he dips in close to his face.

“Can it, pup. Don’t you think we deserve a little something after what you just put us through?” Jay whispers, ghosting his breath over Carlos’ lips. The boy sucks in his own breath but remains stiff and silent, refusing to look up and meet Jay’s gaze.

“I’m impressed you know,” Jay continues after the boy doesn’t respond. He lets a finger drag across Carlos’ shoulder, following along the neckline of his t--shirt and up his neck, tilting his chin so his eyes meet Jay’s.

“You could have really fucked us up with those traps,” he says to frightened brown eyes. “I almost lost Harry there a few times. And you owe me a new shirt.” He picks up his elbow, showing Carlos his torn bandage sleeve.

Jay lets his free hand slide up Carlos’ shirt, splaying his fingers across a smooth, freckled abdomen. He can feel a slight hitch of breath, and his lips curl into a smile that brushes against Carlos’ mouth.

“Maybe I can just take this one?” he teases, lifting the boy’s shirt up a little.

But a shadow of contempt clouds Carlos’ eyes, and he uses both hands to yank his shirt back down, knocking his forehead against Jay’s to force some space between them.

Jay chuckles as he steps back some, shaking his head as he lifts a hand to cup Carlos’ cheek.

“Firey little thing, aren’t you? We’ll just have to see if we can break that. Uma likes her crew to have some spark, but not if it means you might rebel against your Captain.”

“Cap’n?” Harry interjects, walking back towards Jay. He’s covered in dozens of furs, wearing a few himself while the rest are draped over both shoulders. “Is tha runt joinin’ our crew?”

“I’d say so,” Jay replies, pulling Carlos closer by the neck. “Uma would love to have someone clever around that can lay traps like that. We’d never have to worry about intruders making it on the ship alive.”

Harry’s eyes brighten as he shakes his head furiously. “Oh yeah! And imagine if tha bitch was kept away from her furs by her own lil’ boy. That’d really get ‘er blood boiling.”

“But, I don’t want to,” Carlos answers, his voice weak and shaky. He startles and backs up when Jay leans forward and presses their lips together firmly.

“Sorry if I made you think you had a choice in the matter, pup,” Jay tells him when he pulls away. He drops down and quickly hoists Carlos over his shoulder, prompting a yelp from him as he’s lifted off the ground.

“Alright Harry, let’s get back to the ship.” Jay follows as Harry trudges his way out of the closet, moving slowly underneath the massive pile of furs.

Jay shifts to adjust the wriggling boy he’s carrying as they leave Hell Hall, wrapping an arm across Carlos’ hips and clapping the other down on a perky round ass. “After this crazy house of tricks, I think I deserve a little treat, don’t you?”

#descendants spooky time #Descendents #jaylos #jay x carlos #jay son of jafar #harry hook #Carlos De Vil #pirate!jay #pirate!harry

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elkian · 3 years

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An incomplete list of thoughts I have playing Fallout 4 so far:

Whoever decided VATS should default and solely slow time instead of stop time is my enemy and I WILL take them down.

Yes I’m mourning my spouse, child, and entire world BUT this thing has Donkey Kong!

Yes I was by all accounts a soft civilian suburbanite but sure I can just... murder a dude and steal his clothes.

And that doesn’t even go into taking Radroach meat in the Vault, like that’s something a pseudo-50s-housewife-type is gonna do without impetus or comment.

I found a dog GOTY

The dog is my friend GOAT

The laser gun has to be pumped whose idea was this.

After I find the VATS fucker I’m coming for whoever decided Grenades should be Like That.

Sometimes hot keys just straight up don’t work even if I’m standing still. I have to punch them like 3 times to get a result. At least New Vegas is known to be buggy and janky, what excuse is there for this?

Very convenient in fights.

Yeah, this isn’t actually an RPG.

I do like the settlement system but MAN I wish there was some kind of eagle’s-eye view to work with instead of just walking around.

Yes it makes sense for houses in a suburb to be similar or even literally identical but, and I cannot believe I’m saying this, I wish the game had avoided this bit of realism.

It’s all fun and games until you lose your own damn house 5 times.

W...what do you mean fabricated doors can’t fit into the existing house doorways what???

The very first real conversation I had in the game (post-bombing anyways) involved the subtitles failing, and then failing AGAIN when I had to reload bc I messed up.

The way conversations work in this game is like the suburbs thing all over again: yes, it’s more realistic, but that doesn’t mean it actually improves the game.

Sometimes I talk to someone and just straight up get nothing from them.

This is fun when trying to barter.

You know that post about Jurassic World with the T-Rex posing in front of the erupting volcano with music going as a more thematic, dramatic experience that felt superfake? Anyways my level 2 character killed a deathclaw with a minigun after a car exploded.

I don’t hate the Perks-Skills-Leveling system but it’s very strange.

I legitimately tried to keep to the main story bc that was my plan going in but honestly -fucks off into the wasteland-

The difficulty curve is completely incomprehensible so far, sometimes it’ll be bloatflies and roaches and then it’ll be raiders with turrets and absurdly strong grenades with no apparent pattern to the matter.

The mole rats exploding from the ground is kinda cool but it’s also really annoying waiting for them all to pop.

Too much of the settlement system is me going “Why can I THIS but not THAT??”

i wandered into a random shack, killed a bloatfly, and turned around to find a Super Mutant attacking Dogmeat. It’s the only SM I’ve met so far and immediately after we were attacked by... 3 more bloatflies.

No more Super Mutants yet.

I respect the new Feral Ghoul design decisions. I’m not sure I agree, and they’re more unsettling that NV’s in some ways, but I respect it.

You know that post about the skeletons being left around in places frequent even though that would be ridiculous? Yeah one of the only trading posts in the area just has a skeleton chilling 3 feet from the door.

None of these weapons feel good. I like the concept of the modding system and I liked modding but it feels kinda inconsequential when i can get 13 of the same base gun and 4 of the same modded version by killing a pack of Raiders.

The jumping also falls under “more realistic, but worse”

The radstorm and variable weather in general is pretty cool!

This has been p negative so far so here’s a compliment: this is visually improved A LOT. I especially like the level of detail in character creation.

Now back to complaining lol

The game, past the first two or three areas, feels really bad at leading the player anywhere. I basically got tired of the main quest and fucked off to explore pretty quick.

Also: there’s a lot of landmarks close together that... feel like they should interact more?

Hello little farm do you want to talk about the raider corpses over that away? no? hey is this trunk full of *checks pipboy* chems and body parts belong to you? no? even though it’s in clear view of your farm and an area you should theoretically control?

I actually love the little icons for areas on the Pip-boy, it’s a nice touch and generally more helpful than just the flags while not feeling intrusive.

Some of the little animations are pretty great.

Okay but fr who said “you know what this game needs? It needs you to worry about a companion running off and attacking things while you try to use a workbench”

JUST LET ME FREEZE TIME AGAIN, BETHESDA

Ironically, they gave the player-character a voice in a game where I have nothing meaningful to say.

I bartered with someone and left the convo and she cussed me out for ‘wasting her time’ A+ dialogue branching.

A lot of the vistas and locations are pretty damn cool looking.

The sound design hates me personally - by which I mean the sound is directional but not in a way that actually correlates with the game world. I’ve heard raiders talking in my left ear and turned... only to realizing I’m facing an outside wall and there is literally no way anyone is over there.

This is especially noticeable and heinous bc there is some really good music and decent voice lines.

It’s not all bad, but I gotta say... aside from the settlement thing (I WISH NV had the ability to break items down into components, that’s really cool), pretty much no part of this game feels good. Combat feels bad - frantic, I have weight and yet my shooting is super floaty, and the lack of GUI affecting targets makes it much harder for me to spot what I want to shot. I don’t even get a target name without VATS in some situations. The sprint is good, but jumping feels ridiculous. Every conversation makes me want to chew on my arm. I know this isn’t an RPG but that makes the RPG veneer so much worse. It makes me think I can do things that I can’t. And I spend a lot of time asking “why CAN’T I do this?” and “why is this like this?” (that is my most-asked question by far).

Ultimately, it just doesn’t actually feel like an improvement enough anywhere to justify existing. But I’m only 8 hours in so I guess we’ll see.

#long post warn #elk text #15th #October #2021 #October 15th 2021 #elk plays FO4 #so many things fall under 'YES it's more realistic but it doesn't actually improve the experience'#dogmeat's ai is very dog like and very inconvenient #critical post #behold! my opinions!

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solesurvivorpaigeargot · 4 years

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Okay but let’s talk about the opening of Fallout 4

And I’m not talking about the part where you gotta pantomime your way through a half-hour of BS at least before you’re actually allowed to step out into the world and get shite started [seriously Bethesda, if you’re gonna keep making openings like this, please include a ‘get to the point’ option and stop making modders do it for you. First time it’s interesting, second time it’s mind-numbing.] I’m talking about when you roll up on the museum and have to help out Preston and the gang-- and I’m just gonna rant for a few paragraphs here so here’s a read-more cut so I don’t clog up dashes too badly.

Fallout 4 never gives you the chance to value human life.

Fallout 3 had this issue as well, but it’s even more glaring in 4 because in 3 an order came down for your death. When you aren’t given a choice, what you’re doing can at least be penciled in as self-defense. 4 expects you to devalue raiders and treat them as unreasonable threats, to see them as a shooting gallery and nothing else... but there’s a serious problem with the framing.

You made me pantomime being a normal person for the first 30 min to hour of your experience, and now you’re telling me a normal person can just pick up a gun and start popping people with no moral issues.

This is required to even get close enough to talk to Preston. He might take out all the raiders if you’re willing to wait 20 minutes, but when you put yourself into the role play head space of a character, what kind of person ducks behind the sandbags and waits for the dude with the laser to pick everyone off? And there is no force preventing you from simply running away, this is true-- but doing so simply removes your ability to interact with what is a core mechanic of the game a-la the minutemen and establishing settlements. So if you wanna keep the game experience intact, and follow along with the mission? Murder is required, without any time taken out to consider the value of human life or if that murder is justified, or if your character is capable of that kind of violence.

To say I dislike this headspace in shooters, that whomever the denoted ‘bad’ group is are just okay to treat as squishy playthings, more so in shooters that try to integrate choice and morality, is a massive understatement. There are plenty of other things in the commonwealth that could threaten a group of settlers that aren’t people, and framing us as a normal person [PARTICULARLY IF YOU PLAY AS ‘NORA’ WHO WAS NOT A MILITARY MEMBER] who is just immediately ready for this is ASSUMPTIVE BULLSHIT. More so when you remember that if you played as ‘Nate’ this dissonance would be less-- it assumes a male audience who would choose the male protagonist, and his military service makes this opening a lot smoother. But when you don’t? It becomes batshit insane. Your average lawyer is not ready to just pick up a gun and wreck people, even when there are innocents on the line.

So, if ya like, I’m gonna propose an ‘alternate’ idea for what this mission could have been that would have kept all the same elements. The raiders, the power armor, the deathclaw-- but not forced the player character directly into murder.

Step 1: Finding Dogmeat.

When we find Dogmeat, he appears to be just... wandering the gas station? And yeah, he’s in our path, but Mama Murphy appears to think that Dogmeat went and found you, so let’s take that a step further. Let’s say Dogmeat actually ran and found you-- that he spawns into the world when you get past the footbridge, and no matter where you go from there Dogmeat will find and bark at you. That no matter how you treat him, Dogmeat will try to lead you to Concord and ruin your stealth by running in circles around you and barking if you try to go the wrong way. That this pupper is trying to find someone to help his group, he found you.

Step 2: The approach.

So say we follow Dogmeat, who leads us to where the raiders and Preston’s group are in standoff. And yeah, sure, we pass the main road where they’re all sandbagged up, but Dogmeat leads us around back to a rear entrance the raiders have not yet realized exists. Possibly a fire escape that has a ladder that could be released from above that was pulled up when Preston and co hunkered down. While, yes, the player could choose to engage the raiders at this point, deciding they’ve seen enough and take on the museum from the front? Going around, Dogmeat barking, and Mama appearing to let the ladder down because she probably knew you were coming gives you a non-violent in. Why haven’t the group left? There’s too many of them to just sneak out, Mama is old and slow, and Jun is nearly catatonic. No changes have to be made to the group to make that path out non-viable, it’s simply a way for you to get in, speak to Preston, and understand what the fuck we’re dealing with here without the one and only solution being kill everyone-- though the power armor is posited as something that might be helpful in a show of force to get the raiders to fuck the fuck off.

Step 3: The Raiders.

Banditry is not something ‘bad people’ do. It is an act of desperation. The idea that all the raiders are just the most repugnant people on the planet, and there appears to be no fuckin’ end to them is the same flavor of bullshit that’s used in all that war on drugs propaganda 50′s politicians were so high on. The idea of ‘Oh, the raiders are just bad people, so it’s okay to shoot at them’ ignores that they are people. People with lives. People with motivations. People who had their own path that led to where they are and what they’re doing. And what motivates a person to this kind of violence?

Starvation, usually. And I’ll be the first to say I don’t make great decisions when I’m hungry, either, but let’s dig a little deeper on this. Let’s step into the role of the leader of a raider group for a few seconds, get into this head space, and think about what’s going down with Preston’s group.

Imagine that I am a leader of a raider band. Let’s imagine that it started as me and a friend getting forced out of Diamond city, possibly given exile, because we couldn’t find work and decided to steal some food. The lack of work was no fault of our own; me and my friend may not have known the right people, or had the right skill sets, or been willing to take work that risked our lives as if we were worth nothing. Maybe we survived on good will for a while, but after so many hungry days got desperate, held up the Dugout for all the caps they had, or stole food from the general store, and tried to run with the take before we got caught. Whether we were caught, stripped of our gains, and then thrown out, or we got away-- we now have a place we can’t go anymore, and are at the mercy of the outside world. Are we bad? Are we bad because we were starving to death and desperate? Am I bad for coming up with a not great plan but at least trying to take action rather than just quietly dying in a gutter? I just wanted to eat. So now me and my friend are drifters, and we stick together because we’re all we got. And maybe we meet another drifter here, and another one there, and on some hungry night someone gets the idea that hey, if we all jump out from the side of the road and threaten a trader, maybe they’ll drop some of their stock without a fight?

We don’t want caps. We want food. We can’t spend the caps, and we don’t wanna get into a fight because none of us can get treatment-- we’re exiles and criminals. We don’t want blood, we want to eat.

So we threaten a trader, and that goes well-- we got supplies! But those supplies don’t erase our records. We still need to live, and this food is only gonna last so long. The traders know about us now, they talk-- even if we got money, who the hell would trust us? No one, that’s who. Even better, sounds like our little hold-up horned in on some other group’s territory that we didn’t even know about, and they ain’t happy with us. We all have guns, but none of us have ever killed anyone. None of us want to. We just wanted to eat.

So did the other group. They just wanted to eat, too, but they saw us horning in on their territory. Their take. Those supplies belonged to them. They have mouths to feed. More than us, probably. We stole from them, and all we wanted was to eat.

Whatever happens next is desperate, and it’s a baptism in blood. It’s a process of alienation. While there may be a select few who are actually out of their gourd and enjoy the violence, the majority of people who engage in banditry are desperate and hungry.

So what the hell does this have to do with the group holding up Preston’s group?

By all rights, Preston’s group does not have anything a gang of raiders wants. Even if they’re far enough along that caps have value to them again, able to do trade with their own network, injuries are expensive and often lead to permanent disability because these groups lack consistent access to medical supplies and knowledge, and fatalities means your crew is down an important and useful member. SO WHAT THE FUCK DO THEY WANT?

In the canon encounter, what they want is nothing. They want to wipe out Preston’s group because the game said so [I think there’s a terminal entry about it later, like they’re getting paid or something, but no payment is worth getting wiped out the way they did, and you don’t run a group that big on blind arrogance alone. Gristle woulda been displaced by then. All the caps in the world aren’t worth your life; you can’t feed dead crew members, and greed is useless when you’re blacklisted from all the settlements with any sense of luxury] They exist to shoot at. But when we ascribe motivation to them, what the fuck do they want?

The power armor.

It’s a tool; something that would change the balance of power in the area, make other groups think twice and lower the chance of losses when trying to gain supplies. Screw wiping these morons out, there’s only five of them left-- hold them at stand-off for a day or so until someone breaks and asks to negotiate, make them drop everything they’ve got as the toll for getting out, and then the group steps in to take the prize. There’s no need for anyone to get shot, just gotta starve ‘em out a little and then let them run with their lives.

Step 4: The Death Claw

So we have a stand-off situation that could... probably be pretty easily negotiated through without major loss of life. Your player character is a third party, after all. Opens up some non-lethal ways of doing things if you wanna convince Preston and co to give up all their stuff if it means getting out with their lives. Likewise, a high speech character could possibly go to Gristle and convince him that you’ve seen the power armor and it’s wrecked, no worth the effort he’s spending on bottling this crew up, and the men he’s probably already lost in the process. Or maybe a character with high intelligence could work with Sturges to sabotage the power armor, handing it over to the raiders knowing that in a day or two it’ll fall apart. All of these make for some interesting shades-of-gray choices...

Then the deathclaw shows up. In the middle of negotiation. Everyone gets forced up to the upper floor; no time to kill each other, there’s a giant murder machine prowling around the lobby and it is only a matter of time before it climbs up to the second floor and starts ripping out walls and doors to get at people.

This could have served to make the situation even more interesting-- if you’d gone aggro in the beginning and started killing raiders in the streets, you have less people to deal with a massive threat that could kill the fuck out of you. If you’d been in the middle of convincing the raiders to take a sabotaged set of power armor, you’d have to explain to them why the power armor isn’t gonna help you... or let Gristle take it and get murdered when it freezes up and leaves him stranded to get ripped out of the can and munched. Is that murder? How’s the player feel about that? Meanwhile, if you hadn’t killed anyone and were in the middle of negotiating a bloodless solution, you might have a chance of unifying everyone to take down the deathclaw-- possibly with a future bonus that Gristle and his crew wanna go straight and giving you the choice to set them up within your settlement system, or becoming yet another ‘civilized’ system that won’t work with them because they’re too far gone.

...................... I may have to write another fic just to explore these ideas in a modified canon.

#Fallout 4 #Preston #Raiders #Gristle #speculation #choice

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the-dubstep-strawberry · 3 years

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Our Bond Is Steel - Ch22 Preview

Tagging @electriicfleur, @pchberrytea and the other lovely people who have tagged me in WIP prompts in the past couple of months, but who I was too embarrassed to respond to because I hadn’t been writing and had nothing to share! However, I’ve been working on this some more lately and I felt like putting it out there for feedback...

It was the day after the rain, and the world felt fresh and new, and alive once more; as if the raindrops had washed everything clean of pain and sorrow, fear and decay.

If only it were green again, thought Margot, breathing in the smell of petrichor; damp soil and stone, dry grass, and the few flowers which still dared to poke their heads above ground. There had been so many trees here before all this. Spring blossoms and fresh summer fruits, and the changing colors of fall… all the things that she'd hoped that her son would grow up to see for himself, before cruel circumstances had dashed those hopes forever.

But where one dream had died, another had quietly taken its place. Nate wasn't there to stand by her side any more, but there was Danse, as close as her own shadow, his hand brushing against hers as they walked – and a little boy named Shaun running down the road ahead of them, accompanied by a loyal and eager dog, laughing as they jumped over every puddle along the way.

“Hey Mom! Look at that giant one over there! Bet you I can jump all the way over it!” he called out over his shoulder.

“I bet you can!” Margot called back. “You haven't missed one yet!”

Shaun grinned, and took a running leap over the huge puddle in the middle of the road. He cleared the edge, but barely, landing on the other side with his arms open for balance. When he looked back to see her reaction, she laughed and shouted:

“Yay! You did it!”

The little boy beamed.

“Yeah, I did! I'm the best puddle-jumper in the whole Commonwealth! Come on, Dogmeat, I bet you can't beat me!”

Dogmeat barked in happy agreement and leaped across the puddle, only to immediately land in another in a spray of filthy water. Shaun's triumph turned to dismay as he looked down at his clothes.

“Dogmeat! You got my shirt all muddy!”

“It's all right, Shaun, I brought you a spare! You can change when we get to Diamond City,” Margot told him. “But we've got a lot to do once we get there, so remember to stay close, just like I told you. No wandering off without us, okay?”

Shaun nodded vigorously.

“Okay. Thanks for taking me, Mom. I'm glad we didn't go yesterday after all. You were right, it was raining way too hard. I thought it was going to rain all day and all night and keep raining until our whole house was underwater!”

Margot looked at him, amused at the exaggeration.

“It wasn't that bad, honey.”

“Well, I guess not,” Shaun conceded. “It could have been worse. Like a rad-storm. And now we get to puddle-jump all the way to Diamond City! C'mon Dogmeat, let's go find some more!”

He ran off again, looking for his next target. Margot smiled as he and Dogmeat bounded along the road ahead, hopping over every pool of water they could find.

“Look at those two,” she said. “They're cute, aren't they?”

Beside her, Danse nodded. He'd been silent the whole way so far, first looking around Concord's deserted streets as though he expected gangs of Raiders to appear from around every corner, and then keeping his eyes fixed on the horizon as they moved out into more open country.

“You're quiet today,” Margot remarked. “Something on your mind?”

Danse remained silent, and for a moment she wondered if she should ask again; perhaps he hadn't heard her. But then she noticed that he was still watching Shaun and Dogmeat, in a more distant way than he'd been watching everything else.

“I've been thinking,” he said eventually. “About Shaun. Have you told him?”

Margot frowned.

“Told him what?”

“Does he know what he is? That he's a synth?”

#Our Bond Is Steel #OBIS #sneak preview #not the spoilers!#WIP tag #thanks so much for thinking about me #you guys are awesome #sorry for the late response lol

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adarlingwrites · 4 years

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Absolution

Summary:

noun: formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment

The Capital Wasteland lauded the Lone Wanderer as a hero, a Messiah, a savior who's willing to give her life for the Good Fight. Beyond the legends, the propaganda, and the mythification that surrounded her legacy, there is only one person who knew her bare soul. She gave him his absolution, and now he will fight for hers.

XVIII

February 10, 2278.

The plan is set. DeLoria went ahead and travelled to Underworld yesterday to tell Dr. Barrows that we are planning to transfer Percy. It will happen tomorrow, at night, when the courtyard is clear, and the tin cans are sleeping. Our only problem would be the night guards.

Logistics won’t be a problem. Dr. Li said that the machines that I thought was keeping Percy alive were just there to monitor her, and that she can live without them. Barrows will know what to do. He revived Reilly, the wounded, comatose merc leader Percy and I helped a few months back, after all. Maybe he can wake Percy up too? Dammit.

I’m not sure how we will pull this off, but screw it. Anything’s better than scribes probing and poking my partner with their needles.

I was servicing my shotgun this afternoon when Dr. Li stepped in the room. She looks at me with scrutiny, carrying a bag. I assume she’s preparing to leave. She’s not wearing her lab coat. It would be impractical for travel, anyway.

“Charon, was it? May I have a word with you, before I leave Persephone in your hands?”

I nod, not looking up from my task.

“What are you to her?”

Well, that made me pause.

“I’m her partner. That’s all you need to know.”

The doctor drags a chair and sits in front of me. I look up, and she looks pensive, her frown similar to Percy’s when she was waiting for the results of her lab test.

“I told you before, I’m not sure about the nature of the relationship the two of you have, and it’s probably not in my best interest to pry. But I’ll be frank. I’m seeing signs of codependency.”

My eyes don’t leave her, demanding her to explain in silence.

“Your world revolves around her. Almost to a point of obsessiveness. That isn’t healthy. Persephone doesn’t seem the type to enable that… but I can be wrong.”

Something twists in my gut.

There’s a little truth to what she’s saying, about how my world revolves around Percy ever since she waltzed in the Ninth Circle in September, and that makes it sting more than it should.

But she knows fucking nothing about what Percy and I went through to get where we are now.

“I don’t care. I don’t have to explain anything to you. Go away.”

Dr. Li looks at me, uncertainty in her eyes. “Fine. I just want to let you know that I’ve been put in a similar situation before. With her father, James.”

I guess first impressions can be deceiving. What else had James done?

“If Persephone is anything like her father, get out while you can,” Dr. Li tells me, voice barely a whisper, but she’s firm.

This time, I stand up and glare at her. I towered over her, but she kept seated to her chair, defiant.

“I didn’t know James much. But if there’s someone I certainly know, it’s Percy. She’s not her father. Give her some damn credit.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“This is the only thing I’ll say to you, doctor: she wanted me to have a life of my own.”

Dr. Li gave me a faint smile, but the relief in her eyes is telling.

“I suppose I can give the two of you the benefit of the doubt.”

She stands up and straightens her clothes, puts back the chair where it was, and heads to the door.

“One last thing,” she says, looking over her shoulder.

“If Persephone wakes up, tell her not to look for me.”

I didn’t respond. I just nodded.

Li’s words lingered on my mind throughout the afternoon. “If?” No. When. Percy’s waking up.

...it’s too late. My mind wanders to a possibility of a future without her.

I stand up, parting the plastic curtains around her bed, and take a long, hard look at her. The muscles of her face relaxed, expression blank in her sleep. Almost lifeless.

Usually, her brows would be knitted in concentration, like when she’s figuring out how to use fission batteries to power the motorcycle she’s tinkering with, or when she’s cleaning up a wound I have from shielding her against gunshots.

One look at her eyes, and I can tell when she’s afraid, angry, or just happy to see me. The more I think about it, the more I realize how I missed the cues. My eyes weren’t the only ones lingering on her more than necessary. She does that to me too. Whether what she felt for me is the same as I feel for her, the desire and the fondness, it did not matter. The trust and devotion in them are enough.

When she’s not using her voice to express her anger or frustration, her mouth’s usually smiling, grinning, or open in her laughter. Kind words came out of it for the dog, the kids in Big Town and Lamplight, Gob, Nova, and even Moira from Megaton, and me. Above all, it’s sweet, as I found out before she ran in the chamber.

I try to imagine a world without her, and the knife twists deeper into my gut.

I remember the question she asked me, on New Years’ Eve.

December 31, 2277.

The last day of the year, and I’m back to where I was when it started, but with better company.

The stench of alcohol and jet-addled sweat no longer lingered in the Ninth Circle. I don’t think I can even call it that now that the sign is gone. Ahzrukhal’s shelf of watered-down piss was cleaned out in favor of a common pantry. A section was being separated by sheets, converted to a common house with a number of beds and mattresses. The tables and chairs still remained, where ghouls can sit down and rest, if they desire.

DeLoria was sitting in the corner, looking utterly fucking lost. The only other human in the room was that relic hunter Percy accompanied while looking for a piece of parchment, and she wanted nothing to do with him. At least the dog kept him company.

The greaser sighed in relief when he saw me and Percy.

“About time,” he greets, patting Percy in the back and giving me an acknowledging nod. “Watching you mope and cry because he wouldn’t wake up has gotten boring.”

“Shut the fuck up, Butch,” Percy replies in jest, punching the boy’s arm.

For some reason, it’s comforting to see that these two are at it again.

Percy drops to a knee to give Dogmeat a long hug and kisses on his forehead. Then, the dog comes over to me too, and I carry him, allowing the mutt to lick my face with affection.

“At least give me credit for showing up to rescue your asses, Grognak.”

“Grognak? You came up with that all by yourself?”

“Yeah? You sure as hell looked like him when you smeared them mercs against the floor and carried Charon all the way here,” DeLoria teases, making clubbing motions with his arms.

“If my dog didn’t run away and left you panting after him, you wouldn’t have found us. I should be thanking him,” Percy teases back.

Butch pouts and I couldn’t find the strength to hold back a snicker. Percy ruffles his hair and laughs, earning her a hard glare.

“Hey, watch the hair!”

“Thank you, Butch,” Percy finally relents, offering Butch a smile. Then, she turns at me with an expectant look.

“...thank you,” was all I could say. He’s not so bad. Maybe.

“And thank you,” Percy coos at Dogmeat, voice pitched a few octaves up, ruffling his ears as I held him.

“Isn’t that right, boy? Who’s the smartest, bravest, and toughest doggy in the whole wasteland? You are!”

Dogmeat gives my friend some licks and happy barks. I couldn’t help but smile.

“Holy shit, I think I’m gonna barf,” DeLoria remarks, pretending to dry heave.

“Fuck off, Butch. I’m trying to spoil my baby here.”

They fought for the entire afternoon.

We spent the rest of the night in Underworld, under doctor’s orders not to engage in anything strenuous. Butch got to know the local ghouls, and though he still looks half-terrified at the sight of my people, he’s polite enough not to call them zombies. Probably because Percy punched him when he called me one, or he’s outnumbered. Might be both.

Carol was thrilled to see us again, giving Percy a hug that she reciprocates just as hard. Percy lapped up all her attention. Carol’s probably the closest thing she has to a mother now.

We were having dinner when Percy brought it up.

“I can’t believe this is my first time counting down to the New Year in the wasteland,” she comments, chewing on… whatever the hell we were eating.

“Huh. You’re right,” Butch adds, wiping the grease off his mouth.

“We should celebrate!” Percy quips, enthusiastic. “Maybe we could take us to Tulip’s place and get new stuff for the new year. We never really had that much stuff in the vault, did we Butch?”

“Yeah, they were mostly shitty hand-me-downs. But, uh, I’m still kinda broke Perce. It was supposed to be my first day on the job days ago but all that shit happened…”

Percy blinks, and wipes her lips with a handkerchief. “C’mon boys, let’s go shopping. My treat.”

“For real?” Butch asks, looking a little giddy.

“Are you complaining?”

“No.”

“Let’s go then.”

We went to Tulip in Underworld Outfitters. She was glad to see Percy as usual. While they caught up with each other, DeLoria got a new pair of jeans and a shirt.

Percy found a tattered red scarf. My friend ran her fingers against the fabric, lingering where the holes are.

“I’ll learn how to sew, and I’ll patch you up in no time,” she says to no one in particular. The greaser rolls his eyes.

“Still talking to things, I see,” he teases her.

“No I’m not. I don’t talk to inanimate objects.”

I snort, and join DeLoria. “Yes you do, Percy.”

She crosses her arms and pouts. “Yeah? Name one time.”

“You were talking to that robot you were fixing for the Big Town kids,” I say, and Butch gives me a conspirational look.

“Ha! And you used to talk to them plants in the hydrowhatever garden in the vault too.”

“Hydroponics. Plants tend to grow better when you give them extra attention, you know,” Percy retorts, cheeks going red.

“You used to talk to Mr. Bubbles,” Butch cuts in, and Percy gives him a playful jab.

“You were talking to your Mr. Handy while it was shut down for repairs,” I chime in, and Percy lets out a mock gasp.

“Not you too, Charon! I can’t believe it, you two are teaming up on me,” she laughs, running a hand through her hair. Butch was laughing, and Tulip was looking pretty amused as well.

“You vaulties bicker like a married couple,” Tulip comments.

DeLoria smirks, wagging his eyebrow, while Percy rolls her eyes and huffs. Yeah, they’d make a nice married smoothskin couple. A beautiful smoothskin girl with a smoothskin pretty boy.

Just how things are supposed to be.

“More like a caveman arguing with an astronaut,” Percy scoffs.

“For the record, you’re the caveman, Grognak.”

Putting a hand on her hip, Percy flips DeLoria the bird and looks around for other items. Then, she turns to me, a black shirt in her hand.

“Try it on, big guy. You could use some more clothes,” she says, and I nod.

I take off my shirt and put the new one on. It covers me, but the sleeves are too tight for my liking. I turned to Percy and caught her eyes flick down for a brief moment before looking me in the eye.

“So, is it comfortable?”

“It’s fine. The sleeves are too tight.”

“I’ll just cut them off. We can use the scraps for cleaning,” she replies, eyes averting mine. She clears her throat and goes back to Tulip’s counter. Butch was leaning in the corner, nose wrinkled, avoiding looking at either of us.

Yeah, pretty boy’s jealousy is showing again. It will never stop amusing me.

We left after Percy paid for the items. She looks at her PipBoy display and smiles.

“It’s almost midnight,” she says, and she turns to me. “Hey Charon, know a place where we can get away from all the noise?”

I think about it. “I know a way to the rooftop.”

“Nice. C’mon, let’s get some air.”

“The air’s gonna kill us, Perce,” Butch remarks, and Percy rolls her eyes at him.

“Says the smoker,” she replies.

Percy and Butch fucking bickered again as I led them outside, to an exterior fire escape. We climbed up the stairs until we reached the top in a single file; I’m in front, Percy in the middle, and DeLoria at the rear. I had to carry Dogmeat. He was terrified. Shaking.

We sit on the edge of the roof, Percy in the middle, and the dog on my lap. Percy produces some bottles of Nuka, whiskey, and scotch from her bag, along with some packets of food. Butch ate a snack cake in one bite and chases it down with whiskey. Percy unscrews the scotch, drinks straight from the bottle, and shudders. She passes the bottle to me and I take a long swig of the stuff.

“New Year's in the vault was boring,” Butch comments, looking in the distance. There were Super Mutants roaming about. “It's always streamers and trumpets. I wanted to see what the fireworks looked like.”

“Fireworks will set the vault on fire,” Percy replies as she grabs her Gauss rifles and loads it with a microfusion cell. “I don’t think anyone produces them now, either.”

“But,” she says as she lies on her belly and angles her rifle downwards. “We have ammo.”

A mutant fell in the distance. The big, dumb, green bastards never knew where the shot came from.

“How did you celebrate New Year's way back, Charon?” Percy asks.

Huh.

“We used to put up trees.”

“Well, we can’t do that unless we get a vertibird to Oasis and chop one down,” she chuckles.

People also kissed as the clock struck twelve, but I didn’t tell her that.

“Let’s just make our own traditions then,” Percy continues. “Like shooting up these guys.”

Aside from Percy’s gunshots, we’re silent, drinking and eating as we waited the minutes away.

“So, what are you guys planning to do this year?”

Butch puffs out his chest. “I’m gonna lead a gang. The Tunnel Snakes are gonna slither again!”

Percy chuckles softly.

“That’s a start. When this is all over, I’ll start my own garden. What about you, Charon?”

What kind of question is that?

“I go where you go.”

Percy sits and looks at me.

“Don’t you have plans of your own?”

#lone wanderer #female lone wanderer #charon #fallout charon #charon fallout #fallout 3 charon #charon fallout 3 #butch deloria #madison li #oc: percy zhou #fanfic: absolution #series: through river acheron #fallout #fallout 3 #fallout fanfic #writers on tumblr

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cranetreegang · 4 years

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4) 7 Day Fallout Writing Challenge: Coming Home

Day 4!!! This one was way too much fun to write. Decided to do present tense, and nearly wanted to die. Present tense sucks. It’s a bit on the longer side too. It’s like 1,400 words.

Fallout 3 again! I remember the first time I did Trouble on the Home-front, and I nearly blew the whole place up after I ‘saved’ them. Vault 101 is literally the breeding ground of assholes. EXCEPT for my main man Officer Gomez. He’s a real G.

Enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Warnings: one curse word and mentions of dead people

Some dialogue (specifically at first with Amata) I did take straight from the game. So credit to Fallout 3 for that.

Amata gives me a smile of relief. The dark circles under her hazel eyes really aged her and her raven black hair is dull and tangled into a messy bun. With the conflict over, I can tell a weight is lifted from her. We move closer together, filling me with a certain nostalgia. I’m finally back with my best friend and I can’t wait to tell her everything that’s happened. To finally catch up without chaos ensuing. The stories I have will stomp anything we ever read in the Grognak Comics. I’m already forming plans on who we can go to for supplies. How I can help protect our people from the Wastes.

“I… I can’t believe it.” Amata whispers, pulling me from my grand plans. “My father… I can’t believe he’s stepping down. I can’t believe you got through to him.”

“We talked. I think for the first time, he actually listened. He… he didn’t even realize how wrong he was.” I take in the disarray state of the medical room. A place I saw as a sanctuary growing up. I could still see Jim laying stiffly against the wall when I first arrived. Or even Beatrice’s mangled corpse in the next room. A shake of my head returns me to the present. “But I set him straight.”

“Well, thanks for keeping your cool. Violence would only lead to more problems in the future.” She puts her hands on her hips with a prideful smirk. “It’s time for our dusty old Vault to have a new beginning and it’ll start by opening it up again, and this time for good. It’s a bright new day for the Vault…,” Her pause takes me off guard. She looks at me sheepishly. The same look she gave me when I first got here. “But I’m afraid there’s one thing that has to change.”

“Whatever it is, I’m happy to help.” I reassure her.

“I know you are and, on behalf of the Vault, I thank you for all you’ve done.” She places her hand on my shoulder and gives a gentle squeeze. She sounds too much like an Overseer already. “But there are still many who blame you for everything that happened. So I have to ask you to leave. I’m sorry, but the situation is just... too delicate for you to stay.”

My stomach feels like it’s in a knot; like I had been punched in the gut. I know I’m making a face as Amata continues, “Please. If you want to help the Vault, you need to leave.”

The sting of tears began and my throat’s tight. I stare her down with a bitter smile. “Just like that, huh? After everything I’ve done, you’re kicking me out.” I laugh a bit as I realize that was her plan all along. She knew I would come, she knew I would help, and she knew I wasn’t allowed to stay.

“No, it’s not like that.” Amata grabs my hands to bring my attention back to her. Her hands are so soft compared to mine. “But if you stay, it’ll just keep causing more problems. The Vault can’t take any more in-fighting. It’s just what has to be.” Her explanation only makes my blood boil. I swear, I knew raiders that were less cold-blooded than her. “It’ll be awhile before we’re ready to really go outside. But once the Vault is stable again, maybe we’ll see you out there.” She smiles sweetly at me, which feeds my disgust toward her. I let the silence fester before I rip my hands from hers. She frowns, but switches back to a sweet smile.

“I guess this is goodbye for now.” She reaches behind her and hands me a dirty utility suit. “It’s not much, but take this with you, to remember us by. With luck, we’ll meet again.”

I look at the grimy suit for a moment in a state of absolute shock. This is it? All that she sees me worthy of is some piece of shit suit?

“Goodbye, Amata. I have a feeling you’ll do just fine as Overseer.” The ice in my tone causes her to flinch. I give a parting glance to the room that was my whole life with my dad. Him teaching me how to treat cuts, bruises, sprains, and numerous other ailments. The trash and overturn tables made the bile crawl further up my throat. Freddie and Mr. Brotch walk over to me just before I turn away.

“Goodbye. We’ll miss ya.” Freddie says. His ‘Tunnel Snake’ leather jacket slipping off his slim frame.

“I never thought you would be back. I’m sorry you have to go. You were always a pleasure to have in class.” Mr. Brotch adds with his warm brown eyes giving me pity. But he does nothing to object to my banishment.

I almost roll my eyes at their pathetic attempts at a goodbye. “Good luck out there. You’ll need it.” I walk through the familiar yet ruined hallways of my home… former home. I pass by my room. My heart nearly shatters upon seeing Dad’s old bed, but I force myself to keep going. Residents line the hallways as their whispers and glares follow me.

“Good riddance.”

“Get out.”

“You don’t belong here.”

“This is all your fault!” The voices say as I pass by.

I hold my head up high despite wanting to yell and scream at them. They’re supposed to be my family, yet here I am leaving with my tail between my legs. I’m at the security room when a familiar guard brings me out of my haze.

“Officer Gomez?”

He looks at me with sorrowful eyes. “You aren’t leaving already, are you? Goodness, you just got here.”

I curse my growing bad luck. He’s always been so kind to me. His salt and pepper hair made me think of a time long before that. The fondest memory being when he got onto Butch for stealing my sweet roll. I thought of him as my hero from that moment forward. I find it hard to look at him now.

“Yeah. It’s… for the best. Or so I’m told.” I mumble.

He places his hands on my shoulders. “I’m sorry about your daddy. And I’m sorry that… I wish you could stay.” I meet his gaze and he looks more upset than I am. “Good golly, I don’t know what’s happened to you out there, but you’re different now. I can see it in your eyes. You’re not... ,” He laughs a bit before giving me a beaming grin. “You’re not a kid anymore. I’m real proud of ya. I know you’re gonna do great things, kiddo. Always have. I hope we get to see you one day. Out there. Maybe you’ll be the one giving us the big tour of the place.”

I bite my lip to keep a sob at bay before hugging him as tightly as I can. “Thank you, Mr. Gomez. I’m gonna miss you.” My voice cracks and a few tears stream down my cheek.

He chuckles a bit, but hugs me back. “Stay safe.”

I nod my head and smile. “You too.”

He pats me on the back as I walk towards the exit. I spare him one last look. He waves with a warm parting smile. I walk outside and open the wooden slat door. The ground shudders from the vault closing. The breeze rifles through my hair and the dust fills my nostrils. The heat of the waning sun warms my skin. I hear the metal screeching of the vault sealing. My breath leaves my chest and a choked cry follows. It’s done.

I stare at the scorched landscape around me. Echoes of the past are all that’s left. Megaton catches my eye against the evening sun. I suppose that’s not entirely true, I realize. I think of Gob, and Lucas, and even Moriarty. I start to think of the Brotherhood, and the people of Rivet City. So many people that I’ve met, helped, or killed. I notice a furry blob heading towards me. A wide grin forms on my face when I realize who it is.

Dogmeat barrels up to me with yips of excitement. I pat his head while scratching behind his large ears. His rough fur feels great against my near numb fingers. His brown and blue eyes fill me with a comforting warmth.

“I missed ya, too. Ya mangy mutt.” I tease.

He nudges my wet cheek then takes off down the hill. I look back at the Vault. I feel over the utility suit in my hands. The 101 is a faded yellow against the dingy navy. I hang the suit on the wooden door and re-shoulder my rifle. I meet up with the enthusiastic pooch at the bottom who huffs at my lack of rush. He spins in place a few times before taking charge towards Megaton. Our home.

#vault720 #fo3 #officer gomez is a real g #fallout fanfic writers #fallout #fallout 3 #amata almodovar #7daychallenge

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gold-and-rubies · 3 years

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In It For The Long Haul - Chapter 8

Violence Warning, especially for the ending. Mac POV.

MacCready leaned against the wall behind where Flynn was sitting. She was sat in front of the synth detective’s desk. He did not trust him as far as he could throw him, but Flynn was right. They did not have any other options at the moment.

What he did not understand was why the reporter was still with them. She had barely added an extra edge when they went to rescue Valentine, and he had practically felt judgement radiate from her when he had first met her. She was not offering anything now, but if he was honest he did not think he was either. He did not completely understand why she was having him stand there, and not buy more provisions since they had burnt through some ammo already.

His gaze shifted from the opposing wall to Valentine when he spoke. It was unsettling. He sounded just like a human. Maccready had always thought the earlier generations would sound more like the robots he was used to.

“When you’re trying to find someone who’s gone missing, the devil is in the details. Tell me everything you can, no matter…” Valentine paused for a moment, as if searching for the right word, “painful it might be.”

Flynn nodded. He could not see her face from where he was standing, but he could see from the way her shoulders were slumped that ‘painful’ was the right word.

She took a deep breath before speaking, “We’re looking for an infant named Shaun. He was my neighbors’ son. I have no idea why someone would want to take him.”

“That’s a good question,” Valentine said, “Why an infant? They require lots of care, so this isn’t just some run of the mill kidnapping. What else can you tell me.”

“They had to take him from his father. He wouldn’t let them take them. He fought back as best he could, and uh… they shot him,” MacCready could hear her voice getting noticeably weaker. He shifted, unsure whether he should go comfort her. He trusted her more than almost anyone else at this point, but he did not know if they were close enough for that. He recalled the glassy look on her face the few times they had talked about the vault.

“It’s okay, you don’t need to say anymore,” the secretary, Ellie said.

“So we’re talking about a group of cold-hearted killers, but they waited until something went wrong to resort to violence. That and the fact that it was an infant that was taken confirms it. This isn’t a random kidnapping. Whoever took him had an agenda,” he deduced.

MacCready wondered if the mechanical brain helped him come to that conclusion so quickly.

“Hmm… There’s a lot of groups in the Commonwealth who take people,” he continued, “Raiders, super mutants, the Gunners, and of course, there’s the Institute.”

“Well, it definitely was not super mutants, and they were too quick, clean, and professional to be raiders,” Flynn explained.

“And it definitely sounds like a job the Gunners would take, but they wouldn’t decide to do that on their own,” MacCready interjected.

“Which leaves the Institute,” she sighed, “Do you really think they're responsible?”

“Well, they’re the boogeyman of the Commonwealth. Something goes wrong, everyone blames them. Easy to see why. Those early models are a force of nature, or science rather. Killing anything that gets in their way. Then you have the newer models that are as good as human. Pulling strings from the shadows. And no one knows why they do it, what their plans are, or where they are. Not even me,” Valentine explained. MacCready was not sure how much he bought the fact that Valentine did not do anything. He hoped he was not lying.

Flynn shook her head, “Either way we need to focus on Shaun.”

“You’re right. All this speculation is getting us off topic. Let’s focus on what you saw. What did these kidnappers look like?” he asked.

“You’ll, uh, need to take this with a grain of salt. I was… I was stuck in a cryostasis pod, and the glass was foggy,” she warned, “There were three people there, I think, but I only saw two. One was wearing a hazmat suit, so I couldn’t see her face or anything. The man on the other hand, I did see his face. He was bald, and I think he had a scar on the left side of his face.”

“Wait,” he said, his expression suddenly changing, “It couldn’t be… You didn’t hear the name “Kellogg” at all, did you?”

“Uh, I don't think so? Why?”

“It’s way too big of a coincidence. Ellie, what notes do we have about the Kellogg case?”

“The description matches,” she said, looking through her notes, “Bald head. Scar. Reputation for dangerous mercenary work, but no one knows who his employer is.”

“I doubt it’s the Gunners. I’d recognize the name,” MacCready blurted.

“Which doesn’t help matters,” Valentine sighed, “Anyway, he bought a house here in town, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, that’s right. The house in the abandoned West Stands. The boy with him was around ten years old.”

“He had a kid with him? That’s not reassuring,” Flynn groaned.

“No kidding. Whether it’s another kidnaped kid, or his own. Either way they left a while ago, but the house is still there. Why don’t we take a walk over there? See if we can figure out where he went.”

“Alright,” She said standing up and turning to MacCready and Piper, “Why don’t you two wait in the market or something? We’ll come get you when, and if, we find anything. I think all of us going up there will cause a bit of a scene.”

“You’re not taking Dogmeat with you again?” MacCready asked. Part of him hoped they would not be including Piper anymore. He was already getting tired of the suspicious ways she glared at him.

Flynn frowned at him, “I was talking about you and Piper. Besides, I am taking Dogmeat with me. Might need his nose.”

“Whatever you say, Boss,” he sighed. He knew there was no point in arguing. There were more important things they needed to get done.

Together they all left Valentine’s cramped office. Instead of heading directly to the market, he leaned against a wall, and watched Flynn, Valentine, and Dogmeat ascend the stairs.

He noticed that Piper had not wandered off either.

“Can I help you with anything?” he asked sarcastically.

“You’re a merc, aren’t you?” she asked. He could hear the judgement in her voice. He was more than used to it at this point.

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah, I am. Why do you give a f- why do you care?”

“Because I don’t understand why you two are traveling together. She’s the general of the Minutemen, isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” he said simply.

“So, why is she traveling with a mercenary?”

“Because she hired me, pays me well, and I do a damn good job of watching her back,” he scoffed, turning to the market. He wondered if he could buy any stimpaks off of the doctor.

“Shouldn’t she be traveling with one of her Minutemen?” she demanded as she followed him into the market.

“Maybe,” he shrugged, “but she doesn’t want to spread everyone too thin, and we aren’t here on Minuteman business.”

“But-”

MacCready cut her off, “Look, I get you aren’t thrilled about having to work alongside a fu- damn merc, but I’m not going to go anywhere. Take your issues up with the Boss.”

She pursed her lips, but did not say anything more. He knew at this point she was probably invested in where this was all going, given she was a reporter. It was going to be an interesting story, he could not exactly blame her for sticking around.

She walked off to where who he assumed was her sister was, selling her news articles. He walked over to the doctor to try to buy some stimpaks off of him.

Just as he finished up bartering with the doctor Dogmeat went bounding past him being followed by Flynn and Valentine.

“We gotta go!” was all she said as they ran past. He pocketed the stimpaks as he took off after them. Despite what he had hoped, Piper followed them as they ran past.

Neither Nick nor Flynn offered any explanation as to what was happening until Dogmeat stopped running, and started sniffing around at a pond just outside of Diamond City.

”When we searched Kellogg’s house we didn’t find anything but some of his old belongings, so we’re using Dogmeat to track his scent to find him,” Valentine explained.

“Makes sense to me,” MacCready said, panting slightly. He really needed to stop smoking.

“Another one of his stogies,” Flynn muttered while picking up a cigar. Her face wore a steely expression. This was more than focus. MacCready had seen her focused on taking down raiders and Gunners, but this was different. This was personal. As personal as taking down Winlock and Barnes, but he had no idea what was going through her head.

She held out the cigar for Dogmeat to smell, and he took off again. She ran after him wordlessly. She barely reacted when they were ambushed by molerats, but there was a flicker of pure anger on her face when they found a group of dead bodies. They looked like raiders, but there was no way to be sure. That look she had made him glad he was on her side.

“Do you think Kellogg did this?” Piper asked, voicing his thoughts for him.

“If it was, it was pretty irresponsible for him to leave this behind,” Valentine responded, picking up a swath of bloody bandages.

I thought he was supposed to be a professional, he thought, as Dogmeat picked up Kellogg’s scent.

When they got up they were met by a pack of feral mongrels, which were more of a nuisance than anything else. MacCready always felt a little bad having to deal with them. He wondered how many were just abandoned pets. Then a yao guai attacked. He felt bad about killing it, because he knew they wouldn’t be able to get the meat. A waste in his eyes. It was better than having to live off of molerat.

“He really chose the path of most resistance, didn’t he?” Valentine quipped as they fought their way through a pack of ferals.

MacCready would have responded, but he was more focused on keeping the ferals off of him and Flynn. He hated them so much. He hated the way they moved, and he hated the noises they made.

“Mac,” a voice said, tearing him from his thoughts, “we gotta keep going.”

He looked up at Flynn. There was a different worry on her face. He glared at the dead feral one last time before running to catch up with the others. They had gotten a fair ways away.

“Damn,” he said when he finally caught up. The dead body of a woman, an innocent trader probably, lay next to a completely dismantled protectron. The goods she had been hauling were strewn across the broken pavement. On the opposite side of the road a heavily damaged assaultron was barely online.

“Alert: critical signs,” it repeated over and over.

“Do you think Kellogg did this?” Piper asked. Her voice was quiet with horror.

“Identity confirmed. Tracking known mercenary Kellogg…” the assaultron answered.

“Bastard,” Flynn cursed as she picked up the cigar that had been discarded next to it. Her steely expression was slowly forming into anger. He could see bits of frustration working their way in.

“We’re going to find him, Boss.”

She simply nodded in response, before they took off again. They stumbled upon another wad of bloody bandages and a herd of radstags. He was starting to wonder if he was leaving the bandages behind on purpose.

MacCready glanced at his watch. They had been chasing down Kellogg for a little over two hours at this point. As they ran into a crumbling town MacCready was about to suggest they take a break. If Kellogg was as much of a threat as he was made out to be, they were going to need all of the energy they could get. Just as he was about to say something, he noticed Dogmeat was leading them to a large building with live turrets on the roof. Luckily he was not the only one to notice.

Flynn quickly shrugged off her bag. She had sewn a patch of cloth onto her bag to look like a pocket. In reality it was just a flap to cover a handful of grenades clipped to the side of her bag.

“How good are you at throwing things?” she asked Valentine and Piper.

“Probably better than most,” Valentine responded.

“Unless you want me to help break down the wall, I’ll pass,” Piper said.

Flynn nodded, handing Valentine a grenade. Together they lobbed the grenades forward. Both hit their marks. She threw a third, which destroyed the final turret.

The moment it was a pile of scrap metal Dogmeat was on the move. He led them up the steps of the building to a barricaded front door. He stopped and started barking.

“I think we’ve found where he is,” Valentine said.

She nodded. She bent down to pet Dogmeat and to tell him how well he did. When she straightened back up she reminded him of when she had first introduced herself, except angrier.

“Then we’ll find a way in. I think there is an entrance to a parking garage on the side of the building we came from. We should start looking there,” she said. She sounded like she did when she gave orders at The Castle.

She led them down to the parking garage, and found that she was right. There was an unblocked door that led directly into the building.

The moment he walked into the building, MacCready was met with the sound of more turrets. He groaned quietly. Flynn was going to run out of grenades at this rate.

There were stairs to their left, and a door right in front of them. Dogmeat immediately went to the door. Flynn went to open it, but it would not open.

“Damn. It’s chained,” she explained.

They carefully made their way up the stairs instead, following Dogmeat. MacCready marveled at how smart he was.

On the second landing there was a terminal, a protectron unit, and a set of doors. One of the doors was hanging off of the frame. Flynn approached the terminal. MacCready assumed it was to try to disengage the turrets, but immediately stopped when they all heard robotic voices. They were not the typical robots.

“Gen twos,” Piper whispered.

Neither MacCready or Flynn knew enough about the Institute to question her. Flynn nodded at him to poke around with his rifle, and see if he could take down a few.

He took one step forward when they heard one of voices say, “An enemy may be utilizing stealth.”

He looked at Flynn, waiting to see what she wanted to do. She looked at Valentine, unsure what to do.

“You cannot remain undetected for long,” the voice said. This time it was accompanied by the sound of footsteps. He watched as her face morphed to say, ‘Fuck it.’ He immediately got the memo, and moved to let her go in front of him, the way they had fought together over the past month. The others quickly caught on to the plan.

Together, guns ablazing, they cleared out the floor. It was crawling with synths. MacCready was impressed that Valentine’s guess that the Institute was somehow involved was right. Their suspicions that Kellogg was there were also correct, as the synths kept talking about him.

When all the synths and turrets were dealt with, Dogmeat led them to an elevator.

“I hope this old thing can hold all of us,” Flynn muttered. She pressed the call button.

MacCready watched as she awkwardly played with the collar of her vault suit. The nerves were finally getting to her. Part of him wanted to say something to reassure her, but the elevator dinged and opened before he could even open his mouth.

They took the elevator down to the lower level where they had originally tried to enter. They followed Dogmeat deeper into the building destroying every turret, trap, and synth that got in their way. Eventually they arrived at a door with a tension trigger.

As MacCready knelt down to disarm it a voice came over an intercom.

“Well, if it isn’t my old friend, the frozen TV dinner. Last time we met you were cozying up to the peas and apple cobbler,” it taunted.

“Was that him?” Flynn asked, turning to Piper and Valentine. Her voice was a mixture of anger, determination, and, although it was barely noticeable, worry.

“Yeah,” said Valentine.

When he disengaged the trigger, he turned and looked up at Flynn. Her face Looked exactly like her tone.

“We’re going to take him down, Boss,” he said, trying to comfort her.

She did not acknowledge him. Instead she put her steely face back on, and followed Dogmeat. That worried him. He did not want to see her fall down a hole like that. Taking down raiders and Gunners was one thing. It was the right thing to do. Something like this, however, it was a slippery slope due to all the emotions.

Kellogg continued to taunt her, as they drew closer and closer. He was not sure what to make of her lack of reaction. She never got like this when the raiders or whatever bad guys taunted her. She always taunted them back.

Eventually they got to what looked like Kellogg’s makeshift bedroom. On the opposite side of the room there was a security door with the locks engaged.

Before any of them walked in MacCready blocked the door. He wanted to do his best to keep her from going down that dark road, but he knew she would not listen otherwise. It was his job to keep her safe.

“What are you doing?” she asked impatiently. Valentine and Piper gave him a quizzical look.

“Before you properly face him down, you need to listen to me, Boss,” he explained.

She looked at him expectantly.

He took a deep breath, “Look, I know you are no stranger to taking down the bad guy, but this is not some random raider boss. You’re doin’ this for more personal reasons. This stuff can fu- can mess up your head. I’m just making sure you don’t let him get in your head.”

“He’s not wrong,” Valentine agreed, “I’ve seen this stuff ruin good people.”

She stared up at MacCready, and sighed, “I’m not letting him, and I’m not going to let him get in my head. I promise.”

He believed her, or at least he believed that she was not going to let her anger get the better of her. He stepped aside and let everyone in.

As soon as Flynn approached the security door Kellogg’s voice came on the intercom again, but this time it was not to taunt her.

“Okay. You made it. I’m just up ahead. My synths are standing down. Let’s talk,” he said, and the door swung open.

She glanced behind her shoulder at them all, and nodded. She switched her pistol for her shotgun, and headed through the door.

As they entered the command center the lights dramatically switched on. Kellogg walked out into the open with his arms raised above his head. A synth stood to his right behind him. MacCready noticed another behind them in the corner near the door.

“There she is,” Kellogg said, “The most resilient woman in the Commonwealth.”

“Where’s the kid?” Flynn demanded. Dogmeat stopped right at her side, ready to pounce at a moment’s notice.

“You mean Shaun? He’s a good kid. A bit older than you last saw him, but I think you know that by now. You’re not going to find him,” he said cooly. The calmness of his voice sent a shiver down MacCready’s back.

“Don’t you think you’ve underestimated me enough?” She said, leveling her gun.

“I’m not underestimating you. At least not now. You aren’t going to find him, because he is in the Institute. His home.”

“The Institute? As if that’s going to stop me. I’ll find him, wherever he is,” her words sounded like a promise.

“You know, more people should act like you. You’re acting the way I would hope to if I was in your shoes. But I think we’ve been talking for long enough. You know how this has to end,” he said, almost completely emotionless.

“Fuck you, Kellogg.”

She shot him twice in the chest before he could even raise his revolver. The two synths fell almost as quickly.

MacCready turned from the synth he had just gunned down to where Flynn was standing over Kellogg’s dead body. She had a look of defeat on her face.

“You did the right thing. He wasn’t going to talk,” he said. He did not get a response for her.

“‘Kidnapper and Murder Gets His Brains Blown Out By One Of His Only Surviving Victims.’ It would be a great headline if we still didn’t have one of the biggest mysteries in the Commonwealth to solve,” Piper sighed.

“Gets his brains blown out… hmmm,” Valentine said before MacCready could turn to glare at Piper.

“What?” Piper asked.

“His brains. A man like him would know how to get into the Institute,” he explained.

“But like I said, he wasn’t going to talk,” MacCready said.

“And I don’t feel like opening a portal to Hell,” Flynn muttered.

“I’m not talking about the paranormal. There’s a place called the Memory Den in Goodneighbor. They specialize in memories, and the doctor there is an expert on brains.”

“I know the place. I’ve never been there myself, but I’m pretty sure they need the people to be living,” MacCready said.

“We don’t have any other options. You’re going to need me to introduce you to the doctor, and I need to go there anyway.”

Flynn finally looked up at them and flatly said, “I’m not dragging a dead body all the way to Goodneighbor.”

Under different circumstances MacCready would have laughed, but the broken tone of her voice curbed any laughter.

“All we need is his brain.”

“Nick, that’s disgusting,” Piper said, gagging slightly.

“We could probably use one of the medkit boxes…” Flynn muttered.

“Seriously?” Piper and MacCready demanded.

She ignored them, and focused on Valentine, “Do you think you’re going to be able to do anything about this?”

Realizing that they were going to actually go through with it, MacCready turned around. He was fine with different bullet wounds, but when violence was taken to this level he had a weak stomach. It just reminded him of the horrible things mutants and ferals do. Dogmeat must have sensed his discomfort, as he pressed himself against his leg. He heard them shuffle around, and then the sickening crunch of the skull cracking. He heard other disgusting noises as they did whatever they were doing.

“What the hell?” he heard Flynn exclaim.

“Cybernetics,” Valentine explained, “We just hit the jackpot.”

He heard the snapping shut of a plastic container, before Valentine said, “I’m going to poke around in that terminal.”

After a few moments the security doors swung open.

MacCready did turn around, as he did not want to see the carnage. He asked over his shoulder, “Find anything.”

“Just that he wasn’t lying.”

Flynn sighed, “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

As she walked past him, he reached out and squeezed her arm gently. Physical affection was not something that existed between them, but he wanted to do something to comfort her. She did not jump or pull away. She simply stared at his hand. When she looked at him, he tried to give her a sympathetic look before he let go.

They all walked to the nearest elevator, and piled in. It opened into a room on the roof. A security door was on the other side of the room with a terminal right next to it. MacCready heard an odd noise coming from outside, and he could not quite place it. Flynn used the terminal to open the door, and he was the first to step outside. Immediately his eyes flew to the hills, and found the source of the noise.

“Son of a….”

The Brotherhood of Steel’s airship was coming in over the hills surrounded by vertibirds.

“I don’t believe it,” Piper exclaimed.

As the airship sailed overhead a voice boomed from it, “People of the Commonwealth. Do not interfere. Our intentions are peaceful. We are the Brotherhood of Steel.”

Together they stood there in shocked silence as they watched it sail toward Boston.

“Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing.”

Valentine’s words hung in the air, giving it a chill.

It took another moment before Flynn finally spoke up, “What. The. Hell.”

“I dunno, Boss, but it certainly isn’t good.”

“I hope I don’t have to deal with that too,” she sighed before leading the way off of the roof.

#violence warning #fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #maccready #nick valentine #fanfiction #fanfic #piper wright #sole survivor #claudia flynn

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