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makahimetenshi · 5 months

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Two separated ways - Chapter 5 - Arthur Maxson x Female Sole Survivor x Paladin Danse Fallout 4 Fanfic

This is the continuation of the fourth drabble from my collection Two separated ways, and I might do a fourth and fifth part even.

I didn’t plan on doing explicit lemon, more like little shots or conversations but nothing so daring, I have to post them separately this way but okay

If you are very very very delighted with one fic and want a continuation I didn’t write or post you can donate me at least $5 bucks, most of this fics have next chapters I don’t finish because lack of motivation but hey a $5 is a $5, I see a few reviews and comments that fics that are abandoned months laters receive comments of wanting to know what happens next. Here it is, I finished my handling with you all, enjoy the fic

The desk wasnt ready for a session of good fucking but he never would think on this happening, less now, never also fantasied with it but oh well why would he say no? His things and tools fall down to the ground but as soon the zipper of the suit moved down and show off some skin his lips moved there to bite and suck her neck

A hand sneak inside the suit and now grope a boob, his palm meeting hot flesh making him groan against her neck causing her a nice purr from the vibration.

-I don’t think this is an appropriate way of dressing for the mother of the future child of the elder –he said whispering with his lips on her collarbone.

-Ill take note about it elder –she said after gasping smiling, moving a hand behind his neck, hot and sweaty.

-Good

Arthur bite a bit on her bone, making her moan outloud, licking up on the veins of her neck, biting the surroundings, small bites to play and test her flesh, he didn’t want to break any skin, it was important to make sure she doesn’t get hurt easy but he already had a notion from knowing her in battle.

The day they destroyed the institute together they fight side to side. See her blasting synths with explosives and power fists, getting shooted with laser rifles and for what he can see…she has thought skin.

So he started to suck harder, leaving red sucking marks, making the smooch that officially marked her, slowly, moved up, caressing slowly her ear with his nose and lips, breathing against it causing her shivers.

Meanwhile his hands were taking down the black suit, taking it off from her arms, desperate to pull it down her waist and more.

Arthur bit her lobe, pleased from the sounds coming from her mouths.

Nora wasn’t behind, she was taking down his heavy coat, trying to make him cooperate to take the coat off his arms but he was too occupied with the arms to lend her, he cant loose a second of enjoying her body for anything…

Until she spoke.

-Arms off elder –and for some reason his legs shake and do what she told him, taking out the arms as she toss the coat aside the desk. Her hands started to take the zipper down, opening the belts while she look directly into his eyes. And for some other reason he was frozen in his place, wanting to obey and be her toy, letting her work to release his flesh out, his mouth was dry despite being tongue kissing just a few minutes ago but…

What a powerful gaze

Once his arms were off the suit fall on his hips, staying just because of his underwear. Nora started moving his hands on his shoulders down his strong arms, with his gaze fixiated on his hairy chest. He can see she was exited too.

His own eyes were fixiated on her breasts, loving the view but a shiver make him tremble from heads to toes when her hands touched his elbows to go down and pick his hands, pulling from them and letting herself fall on the desk, the man understood and lean down to stay on top of her, using his hands as a support at sides of her head.

She sighted at the view of Arthur Maxson on top of her, then, close her eyes as the man kiss her again, she hugged him from the back, exploring with her fingers his muscles and oh boy he was in well shape oh yes Wasn’t as big and huge as Danse but who cares right now, he felt just as firm and solid as him…Then sneak a tongue inside making him moan, touching soft and caring making him shiver and moan again, how cute.

The elder keep a hand as support on the side of her head and the other while the other grope a boob, squeezing it before moving down the sides and curves or her waist, touching the edge of the suit stuck on her panties, well at least she had that, at realizing what he wanted to do she started to move around her hips, encouranging him to pull down the damn fabric out the way, so he did, started to pull down with a bit of effort the black suit and the underwear, passing down her thights while she helped moving her legs so it fall down bellow her knees. Stoping on her boots

When Arthur realized what was in front of him stop the kissing, sighting, breathing for a few moments looking directly into her eyes.

Oh my god he was about to bang Danse woman.

No, she wasn’t Danse woman at all, and she reach specially to him because of that.

He also wanted to do it, desired her, and he was right here right now.

Moved down to stand with the boots on the floor, place both hands on the sides of her wide white hips and say looking at her red cheeks.

-Relax Sentinel –and she nodded, giving her consent, that’s all he needed. But he took one more second to look at the delicacy in front of him

What a hot view.

Hairless? Interesting.

Picking up from her hips to her legs Arthur spread her open and sttarted to eat between her folds, going directly to suck her clit, yes, suck it, suck hard loving the way it gets between his lips and oh my he wasn’t the only enjoying it, her whole body was trembling. Fearing ti wasn’t a good trembling he moved slowly and step by step up to her button, again sucking, and hitting it with the tip of his tongue.

Now she moved one hand to the back of his neck, sweaty and hot neck, moaning and screaming by moments, biting on her lip loving the intensity of how his mouth was working down there

-That’s good –she managed to say, and then his tongue slip down on her juices getting inside her, tasting it from the source, making her legs jump of surprise- oh my

Wasn’t this a wonderfull way to get motivated? And she tasted exquisite also.

-Need more? –he asked with his tongue out of her and his beard wet of her juices.

-Yes –like she was the elder and he the sentinel, ready to fulfill orders and wishes, he sank inside two of his fingers, normally you would start with one, just as a courtesy, also this was the first time both do it but goddam she was so wet and ready, she can handle it just fine.

So while his fingers started to thrust and move inside, going as deep it possibly can, he keep sucking and playing with the tip of his tongue on her button, hitting it faster and then licking with the whole of his tongue.

She screamed and turn her neck back, even hitting on the desk, damn it sound harsh?

-Are you okay? –he ask still with his fingers inside, looking up he just see her troubled face and a nood, ok, didn’t mind, keep going.

He moved down again but this time change orders, his tongue going inside licking and sucking the most of her juices, swallowing that sweet taste, loving the sticky play on his beard and his fingers playing with her clit, piching between the pads carefully and slowly getting intoxicating by the smell mix of her fluids and his saliva, a strange strong smell but my god so good, fills him entirely. Then by the corner of his eye saw her moving her hands to her tits, playing with her nipples, surely wanting to increase the feeling.

Oh my. Something hit hard on his cock at that view

Arthur lick from her entrance all the way up to her button, and then suck, trusting his fingers inside again starting to move faster than ever, then, heard a low gasp from the deepest of her throat –im close –when the man heard that a groan came from him

-alright baby – for a moment that sounded funny to Nora but quickly she didn’t have the chance to think in anything else, he started to suck and lick again on her button and yes the friction of his fingers inside her were so good, even with the man on top of her legs she tried to step better on the desk and place them more comfortable, now being able to move her hips by her own by need against him until

-I…I…don’t stop –she said in a pleading, and he didn’t, keep working and sucking only raising his eyes to look at her, prepared to finally see her orgasm striking, stoping specially his mouth only in the moment a bolt hit her body entirely making her legs jump against his arms, feeling the warm and dense liquid going down on his fingers

A groan came out from his mouth at the view and then he raised, place himself on top of her body and leave small smooches on her cheek with loud little noises hiding his nose on her hair, something that feeled very intimate and delicate for what they were doing specially with the sound of her breathing relaxing from her orgasm- im going in sentinel –he whisper in her ear with a raspy velvety voice, and feel the movement of her head nodding.

He moved off and Nora took the time to look at his bared sweaty chest one more time, then with a sloppy simple movement he flipped the woman on the desk, it sounded, of course, but it wasn’t harsh or brute, nono, it didn’t hurt at all, just the movement over the furniture. Nora was turned with her stomach down over the cool metal desk with her ass up.

And what a nice ass for sure.

Oh my his mind was lusting so much, and he wasn’t even touched, didn’t realize until now how much it hurts to be this exited untouched he was bewitched this whole time by her scent and forget at all his needs, even with the suit half down the fabric on top was unbereable to keep on, so desesperatly he pull down the suit and his underwear, grabbing his hard and hot cock between his fingers, strocking a bit desesperate getting closer to her entrance.

Gosh even the heat emanating from between her asscheeks make him loose control over his senses, but no he had principles, he pressed the wet head of his cock first to try and play a bit and of course she was so wet and ready, when he heard her little moans from the play of his cock and her clit he moved directly to her entrance and pushed inside, both moaned and he leaned over her back, and what a nice back, elegant, well shaped, with some scars but terribly sexy to look at.

-you are hard –she said with what he saw was a vicious smile, and then pushed deeper, both moaning at the same time again, oh my getting inside after making a woman cum was the best, everything was so soft and warm, even the movement inside feels soft

-yes -he mumble and one of his hands grab her hips, using it as a support like some kind of handle.

A handle to ride a mare, a fine specimen.

His boots stand better and he started moving, thrusting, with a hand on the sides of her body and the other manhanding a hip, closing his eyes to relax and enjoy.

Gosh her ass was so soft the way his crotch and stomach meet with her asscheeks everytime was delicious, the sound was good, the feeling of her skin, the way the flesh moved, even looking down the play and dance was exquisite. How can Danse turn down on this after tasting it even? Madman.

This was hothothot and oh my this was good too, he was fucking a sentinel.

All his life he has been groomed to marry a perfect woman to bear healthy children and hold the reputation of his lineage high, and now the chance was pinned down him, sweating and receiving, damn the chance look for him and ask for his seed specially. The image of his family three with Elder Arthur Maxson and Sentinel Nora Maxson oh my gosh that give him a boost, and started to thrust harder.

A Sentinel, my god he had expensives tastes, the other one he ever liked was one too…

Looked down and see the hand he had as support at the side of where her boob was, and without loosing balance and with a perfect stability he sneaked it down her body, groping and massaging it, making her head go up to gasp. That response sent something harsh to his cock that make him moan loud and needy. Yes, this was good, perfect.

The other hand moved to one of her asscheeks and spread it open, even if he didn’t need it because the pose was comfortable enough and the desk was holding her body entirely but he wanted to taste that ass personally and the eyes weren’t enough.

Arthur had something heavy in his chest, something big growing suffocating him, blocking between his chest and his neck, mymy already? Well no its no surprise, he hold on for too long while doing her, didn’t even realize how big and amused he got, besides she was so wet and warm.

He wished to see more.

The elder wants to keep seeing more of her.

Wants to spread her legs open in all diferent options.

This cannot end here.

It was pretty obvious he was close for Nora, the rhythm of his breath, how much he was accelerating unconsciously, how rought and sloppy his hands were turning, how pitched the moans were turning.

And ohmygosh she didn’t expect his voice of pleasure to be so sexy! Expressive and manly!

The biggest thing to notice was the sporadic twitching of his cock inside, its okay, he was a gentleman, took care of her first, didn’t actually expect that from a man with so much power but on some other hand it was difficult to imagine him otherwise, didn’t have a bad vive…

Nora was loving the weight of his hot and hard body on top, even the way his legs crushed against hers feeled so good. The noises of the desk moving weren’t enough to distract her over what the man was doing with her body.

Both hands hold her by the waist and she gasped out loud, he was close, and he moved good also, even if she came it feels so damn good inside and…

But sluddenly and out of nothing, he pulled out, stroking his cock between his fingers on one of her rounded asscheeks, the woman felt the hot liquid crash into her skin and went frozen…

Wh-why…

He grunted, loud and deep, masculine, very sexy, cumming on her ass but not…why…

She waited for him, to breath, to relax, to finally open his eyes until…a hand scatter his cum in her leg and asscheek, spread it over, felt dirty but also…

When she look back found the man with light blue eyes looking directly at her, like he has been waiting for her gaze.

-Youll have to win my seed…-he mumble taking a breath, recomposing-sentinel-he hissed before gropping that same wet and hot asscheek, playing with her flesh- the right to carry the elders firstborn is not something as easy to get from me

Both stay in silent, looking at each other, he had a smile and she was…confused…this didn’t go as she planned.

-Okay –for a moment he separate, but then, step closer, pinning her down again to the desk, pressing his stomach and his now soft cock on her back, going down to whisper in her ear.

-You will not retire from the brotherhood service until you are carrying my firstborn- his nose moved around her ear, giving her a shiver of surprise at the feeling of his hot wet breath against that sensitive spot, same with the hairs of his beard around her neck-but you will have to earn it.

She stay in silent, breathing in and out, feeling wet and used but at the same time…very aroused.

-Alright.

#makahimefanfic #fallout 4 #sole survivor #elder maxson #arthur maxson

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dognames · 3 years

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fallout institute guns

so look i finished this - i really need to be making these faster i think.. anyway i enjoyed this a lot, the barrel was my favourite part

#my art #illustration #art #sketch #digital art #digital painting #fanart #fallout 4 #weapons #procreate #game art #synth laser heavy rifle #institute laser pistol #synth laser rifle

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pumpkinov · 3 years

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Where the Dust Settles

This chapter is a little weird, but there's lots of things I need to set up. Bear with me, I promise, we're heading somewhere with this!

You can read Chapter 1 here

Portia Collins, the sole survivor of Vault 111 has lost more than most. With the Institute defeated, she sets her sights to the next big jobs - unification of the Commonwealth wastelands and the large warship docked at the Boston Airport. More work for the General of the Minutemen, who is finding herself increasingly alone as her companions move on with their lives. John Hancock, the Ghoul Mayor of Goodneighbour is struggling to find his footing in the new political climate of the Commonwealth, and is finding a surprisingly vocal supporter in his local Minuteman General.

Chapter 2. I can hold a grudge like nobody’s business

There is an important meeting, Piper chain-smokes and Hancock climbs a heavy set of stairs.

He fucking showed.

“Well, fuck me.” Portia exhaled in surprise, as the red figure approaching her across the quiet square held his arms out wide. There was an interesting leap in her chest as he grinned. Fuck he was smug. But it was hard not to smile back, despite the almost constant urge to hit him.

Mayor Hancock was an anomaly.

“Good morning, General.” He whipped his tricorn hat off his head and held it to his chest as he dropped into an exaggerated bow.

“Good morning, Mayor.” Portia offered him a cigarette, which he accepted. They stood in silence for a moment, their breath fogging between them. It was still in the square, it had snowed overnight and the ground beneath their feet was covered in a soft powder that would no doubt turn to a dirty, watery sludge by midday. The air was crisp, and Portia’s nose and cheeks were already turning red. The sun lay in bars across the ground as it rose through the buildings.

Hancock exhaled smoke. “You’re surprised to see me, aren’t you?”

Portia raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t pick you for an early riser.”

He shrugged, flicking the ash off the tip of his cigarette. “I don’t sleep much.” He paused, then grinned wickedly, “Bed serves a different purpose these days.”

Portia opened her mouth to scold him, but was interrupted.

“General?” She turned to see Preston walking down the steps of the Rexford. He was in better shape than she expected, honestly. He had a dark hickey on the side of his neck, but his eyes weren’t bloodshot and he wasn’t swaying.

“Good night, Preston?” Portia asked, reaching to adjust his scarf. He grinned broadly, and batted her hand away.

Hancock snickered, and pitched his cigarette butt into the gutter. “Should we get this freakshow on the road?”

Preston hummed in agreement, slinging his laser musket across his shoulder.

Portia’s rifle was strapped to her back, her pistol strapped to one leg, and her combat knife strapped to the other. She eyed Hancock, who appeared weaponless. He waved an arm towards the entrance of Goodneighbour. “After you!”

The streets of Boston were quiet this early in the morning. The regular patrols of Minutemen and traders helped keep the path between Diamond City and Goodneighbour relatively safe, though all three kept their heads on a swivel as they made their way through the shell of the city.

Hancock moved slightly ahead of them, and Preston fell into step next to her.

“How did you convince him to come?” He asked, quietly. Preston had spent a good hour trying to convince the mayor to accompany them to the council meeting the day before.

Portia shrugged. “I appealed to his better nature.”

Preston hummed a little, “You wore him down.” Portia knocked her shoulder against him, causing him to sway a little. He grinned back at her, before adjusting his hat. “I’m glad he’s here. I know he’s a pain in the ass, but-”

“He’s a wildcard.” Portia muttered. “I’m not sure if he’s going to dazzle them all, or stab them all.”

Preston shrugged. “It’s the Commonwealth, General. That’s a risk we’re always taking.”

Hancock stopped, spinning on his boot heel. A shotgun had appeared in his hands, and his face was serious. “If you two are done gossiping, we have company.” A bullet whistled past Portia’s side, and she heard the garbled cry of the supermutant who had shot it. The angry green face attached to the cry peered out from the side of a building just up ahead. Portia whipped her rifle off her back, as Preston cranked his laser musket. She aimed and fired off a shot, clipping the mutant in the shoulder. He cried and stumbled, before letting another bullet fly, at Hancock this time. The mutant’s aim was off, and Preston dispatched him with ease.

Another mutant appeared in the doorway of the building, running headlong at Hancock. She heard his rough laugh, before he unloaded a shell into the green creature’s face. He disappeared from her view in an explosion of blood and gore, both Portia and Preston breaking into a run to reach him. He was standing over the headless body of the mutant, his face pulled into a snarl that made him almost unrecognizable. Portia reached for him, her fingers brushing his coat.

“Hancock, are you-” She faltered a little, his eyes were wide and wild. There was a flash of memory, Portia; fresh out of the deep freeze and entering Goodneighbour, Hancock sliding a knife between the ribs of a man who had threatened her. The face was the same. Hancock took a breath, and adjusted his hat. The fierce look started to melt out of his eyes as he looked at her, his breath rising hot in front of his face in the crisp air.

“I’m fine, sister. And you two?”

“We’re fine.” Portia realised she was still holding onto his sleeve, and released it. Preston clapped Hancock on the shoulder.

“Excellent spotting, sorry we were late on the draw.”

Hancock smirked a little, looking more like himself. “Lucky I have my cat-like reflexes, Garvey.” Preston grinned ruefully, “Look I’ll take that. I’ll spot the next ones.”

“Good man.” Hancock gripped Preston’s wrist tightly, eyes shining.

The rest of the way to Diamond City was uneventful.

There were two familiar figures standing at the gates to the city. Piper was smoking furiously, pacing back and forward. Nick Valentine stood straight and still, watching for their arrival. Portia’s chest warmed at the sight of the pair. Preston raised a hand in greeting, and when they were in earshoot Piper pitched her cigarette and broke out into a jog, colliding with Portia and smacking a loud kiss on the side of her head. “Blue!” Portia laughed and wrapped her arms around Piper, lifting her feet a little off the ground. Piper reached for her battered red hat to stop it sliding off her head, “Put me down!” she shrieked. Portia released her as they moved forward, keeping a hand on Piper’s arm as she staggered a little.

They reached Nick, who shook Preston’s hand warmly before enfolding Portia in a hug. His metal hand pushed briefly between her shoulder blades before he released her. His yellow eyes landed on Hancock, who stood slightly aside from them.

“It’s good to see you, John.”

“Likewise, Nicky.” Hancock rasped, his eyes crinkling again at the corners. Piper pursed her lips, another cigarette already clamped between them. Portia squeezed her hand, before turning her attention to Preston.

“Are we ready for this, Garvey?”

Preston met her gaze. He looked nervous, but resolute. He nodded. “Yes General, I think we are.”

Portia smiled a little, trepidation twisting through her stomach. “Right, let’s get this over with.”

Hancock hesitated at the steps. He watched the welcome party climb the stairs ahead of him, talking excitedly. He took a deep breath - the place looked almost unchanged. His sense of smell wasn’t the strongest these days, but he could still make out the smell of Takashi’s noodles, the scent of paint and dirt. Diamond fuckin’ City. He never thought he’d come back here. He took a deep breath, and stepped onto the first step. The rest were easier to take.

McDonough’s old office had been stripped bare. There were chairs gathered in a semicircle, with Piper set up at the desk in the corner. There were settlers clumped in groups around the room, Hancock stood to the side, leaning against the wall, observing. Trying not to notice the bloodstain in the corner where the synth (his brother?) had died a few months previously. The floor was wet from the melting snow off everyone’s shoes. His eyes followed Portia as she moved around the room, greeting people. She was smiling, touching people, remembering names and faces. He didn’t really recognise any of the people in this room, except for Wiseman, who ran The Slog. Their eyes met, but there was no flicker of recognition in the old ghoul’s eyes. Wiseman remembered a different John, in a different lifetime. Eventually Portia arrived at the front of the room, and it fell quiet. She cleared her throat, and glanced up. Her eyes met Hancock’s for a moment. He felt a smile stretch the corner of his mouth up, and she bit down on her bottom lip, smiling in response. There was warmth in those eyes, despite how cold she could be. Lady will be the absolute death of me he thought idly, his eyes drifting down her frame as she started speaking.

“Welcome, everyone. This is the first time in a long time we’ve had a meeting like this. The people in this room represent the settlements of the Commonwealth, and for anyone in this room who may not know me, I am General Collins, leader of the Commonwealth Minutemen. This is my second in command, Preston Garvey, and I’ve bought you all here today to discuss the future of Diamond City, and the future of the Commonwealth as a whole.”

Portia had been right all along, Hancock mused to himself, this meeting had been important. And deeply, deathly boring. They discussed trade routes, infrastructure, and people brought up grievances both imagined and real. He tried to listen, he really did, but similar to his brief foray into education he found his mind drifting. He slid a box out of his pocket, and placed a mentat on his tongue. As he was trying to surreptitiously close the box again, he glanced up and caught Piper’s eye. She frowned at him disapprovingly, and he fought against the childish urge to poke his tongue out at her. He glanced out the window and saw that the sun was already heading back down again in the sky, how the fuck was it late afternoon already? His gaze fell down to the market below them, watching the small smudges that were the citizens of Diamond City go about their business. It looked the same from when he was younger. Except it wasn’t the same. Not anymore.

Portia was still standing in the front of the semicircle of chairs. She had tied her long brown hair back off her face while Hancock had been staring out the window, and he realised he’d never seen her with her hair up. The back and sides of her head were shaved. He wondered idly how those shaved parts would feel against the palms of his hands and grinned quietly to himself. He felt the mentat starting to work as it melted in his mouth, he was finding the words coming from the General a lot easier to follow. She was discussing the upcoming election for the new mayor of Diamond City.

“I think we’ve probably covered enough for one day,” she smiled, rubbing the back of her hand across her eyes briefly. “We’ll meet up again tomorrow, to discuss the Diamond City election a little more before this meeting is completely adjourned. Are there any questions before we call it a day?”

There were murmurs as a negative response to her question from the rest of the settlers, but Hancock found himself pushing his upper body off against the wall and stepping forward.

“I have a question, actually.”

Portia’s eyes met his from across the room. Her eyes were no longer warm, they were tired and guarded, but she still inclined her head.

“The floor recognises Mayor Hancock, of Goodneighbour.”

Heads turned to stare at him, and he found himself smiling, not in a particularly pleasant way. He fixed his stare on Geneva, sitting in one the chairs closest to Portia, his idiot brother’s old assistant.

“I’d like to know what plans are in place to remove the Anti Ghoul Decree of 2282?” He swirled the mentat around his mouth languidly, feeling it spike in the back of his skull. “Since both myself and Wiseman here are standing in the former mayor’s office, I would assume it has been retired at least in a non official capacity?”

Geneva looked at Portia, then Preston, then met his gaze. “Diamond City currently has only a small council, no changes to policy can be made at this time.”

Hancock raised a bony ridge where an eyebrow would be. “And is there discussion to remove it once there is a new mayor?”

“I - uh -” Geneva trailed off, looking back at Portia for assistance. Portia sighed, and stepped forward.

“That’s an excellent question Mayor, let’s table it and add it to the agenda to discuss tomorrow?” Her eyes met his again, this time pleading.

“I’d really like an answer now.” He smiled. She took another step forward.

“Mayor I don’t believe anyone has the capacity to answer this -”

“It’s a simple question,” he stepped backwards, opening his arms wide and looking around the room. “I just want to know if there’s any plans to allow the ghoul’s who used to live here to come home? The ones who survived, of course.”

The silence was heavy in the room. No one would look at him except Wiseman, whose face was emotionless.

“Good to know.” Hancock returned his gaze to Portia, and smiled. “Good to know. That’s all I had General, thank you.”

#fallout 4 #fanfic #John Hancock #Hancock #hancock/sole survivor #hancock/female sole #Where The Dust Settles

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slocumjoe · 3 years

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Physique HCs

Cait: Slender, but muscular. A body that’s best at swiftly charging in and knocking someone’s teeth out. Freckles everywhere, but most visible on her arms, back, and nose. Broad back and shoulders, both toned. Thin, bony fingers with chewed-to-hell nails. Knuckles scarred and nearly disfigured, suffers pain in fingers. Scars everywhere, with varying shapes, causes, and fadedness. Taller than most women at 5 10″. Can’t grow body hair under Psycho, often cold. When clean, basically an Irish Sasquatch.

Codsworth: Upkeeps himself, has little rust or noticeable degrading. Dents, scratches, and discoloring are still visible. Has cracks in one of his ‘eyes’. Makes an odd sound during Radstorms. Joints have loosened despite his attempts at fixing them, meaning all movement is announced by squeaks, groans, and grinding.

Curie: Soft and round, made of circles and marshmallow fluff. No freckles, but has moles along her back. Body hair seems to only grow on her face. Has scars from the original synth that fascinate her. Her first scar was a ripper to the collarbone. Average height at 5 5″. Pear-shaped, friend-shaped. Hair does not move. Ever. Her nails are immune to dirt, but are always chipped and damaged from extensive lab work. Often has dried blood on her from medical work.

Danse: Literal bear. Thick body hair everywhere. Very well toned, but with a bit of a gut. Dad bod, self-conscious about it. Broad, takes up a lot of space. Stands at 6 4″. The most scarred place on his body is his hands and arms from engineering accidents. Has a burn scar on left wrist from a blowtorch slipping from his hand. Very pronounced hands and knuckles. Has been told he has ‘pretty veins’ and isn’t sure what it means. His beard took months to grow and if someone shaved it, would either cry or murder them. Serious case of babyface without it.

Deacon: Average height at 5 7″. Very slight gut. Only toned in his arms and legs, torso is untoned. Right shoulder is always bruised from sniper rifles. Grows body hair normally, but shaves, plucks, and waxes so religiously he feels as smooth as a dolphin. Kinda skinny/lean, but not so much as to be a stick. Skin is leathery from surgery, all scars have been removed. Covered in freckles, uses makeup to cover them. The smallest hips in the world, butt is concave.

Hancock: Stands at 5 3" and proud of it. Wiry frame, broad shoulders. Triangle torso. Scars are almost completely undetectable. Still has some body hair, but can't grow it anymore. The hair that remains is...not in good condition. Skin is paler than most ghouls. Bruises easily, bleeds easily.

MacCready: Skinny twerp. Arms are toned from carrying rifles, nothing else is. Slight pudge in the stomach. Thin body hair on his arms and legs. Minimal scarring, but the marks he has are large and deep. Bruises easily. Noticeable veins, very bony everything. Long lashes. Skin is smooth and soft despite everything. Hands are calloused to hell, though. Prone to sunburn. High metabolism, cannot put on weight. 5 4"

Nick: 'Skin' feels like the leather of a worn couch. Eyes can't emote, mouth can. Stands at 5 10". Isn't all that heavy. Wears the coat so no one sees the sparking and flickering from damages wires and machinery barely keeping him up.

Piper: 5 6", naturally heavyset frame, but her active life style has left her slimmer than others in her family. Large bust, nice thighs and hips. Very few freckles on her cheeks, visible under certain lighting. Has a few skin tags. Scars on her back from assassination attempts. Plenty of bullet scars in her torso, one on her neck. Body hair focused solely on her armpits. Dry skin and lips, sometimes bleeds from it cracking. Pudge to her stomach, very curvy. Has a tattoo on her butt she doesn't know about. Keeps her nails as flawless as she can.

Preston: Stands at 5 9". Biggest scars are on his face, chest, and arms. Has a mole on his right thumb. Body hair almost entirely on his legs and hands. Cannot grow a beard for the life of him. Muscular from years of hard work. 6-pack. Hair and nails have dirt in them at all times from trying to tame a temperamental Mutfruit tree. Scabs on fingers from chewing nails. Has a skin tag on his eye that drives him crazy. The worst tan lines known to man.

X6: Smooth as silk. 6 1". Entirely lean muscle, built like a panther. No blemishes besides scars. Has a burn scars from a Gatling Laser, a gash from a ripper, and a section of mottled skin from a Mutant Suicider going off near him. Body can be mapped out using nothing but squares and diamonds. Everything is sharp and pronounced. Very cracky bones, needs to pop his joints all the time. Doesnt sweat easily, but when he does, looks like he just went swimming. Nails are kept orderly. Once considered growing a beard - saw the scruff and hated it. Pronounced veins and Adam's Apple.

#fo4 #fallout 4 #paladin danse #nick valentine #robert joseph maccready #hancock #preston garvey #piper #cait #x6 88 #curie #codsworth #gangpost

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concussed-to-pieces · 3 years

Text

The Mettle Of A Man; Part Nineteen

Fandom: Fallout (4)

Pairing: Eventual Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Welcome, one and all! I hope your day is going well. Tagging @anonymouscosmos, @culturalrebel, @mercy-and-malice, @deepkittycollecto, @nelba, @mechanicalism and @commandershepardshtole. Enjoy!

Part One: ArcJet

Part Two: The Prydwen

Part Three: Orders

Part Four: Finding Brandis

Part Five: Weston Water And Oberland

Part Six: Meeting Preston And Matthew

Part Seven: Radstag And Radstorm

Part Eight: The Return To Sanctuary Hills

Part Nine: Domestic Ruminations

Part Ten: Institutionalized

Part Eleven: Two Weeks, Three Days

Part Twelve: Haylen’s Warning And The Glowing Sea

Part Thirteen: Under Fire

Part Fourteen: Dichotomy

Part Fifteen: The Litany Trial

Part Sixteen: Nice Try

Part Seventeen: Preparations

Part Eighteen: Divide And Conquer

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains distressing flashbacks, gratuitous violence and extreme emotional duress. Stay safe!]

Paladin Logan Danse, pride of the Brotherhood of Steel, had never really considered that he may not be the sharpest tool in the shed. Oh certainly, he had heard many a 'Paladin Dense' joke in his time with the Brotherhood; his name made it far too simple to engage in semi-witty wordplay.

Here and now though, facing down seven coursers with nothing except his laser rifle and power armor, he was beginning to slightly... slightly doubt his own intelligence.

The first courser was managed easily enough, rushing him in a suicidal dash. Danse blew their head off without missing a beat, continuing his march forward. The worst part of it all was the silent hatred he felt radiating from the coursers, like a thick miasma of ill will. He wondered pointlessly whether this was how he would meet his end. Trapped in the sterile halls of the Institute, torn apart by this rabid crew of synth hunters.

"I escaped from you all before, if your records are accurate." The paladin snarled as two of the coursers vanished into thin air. "I doubt any of you would recall. I myself do not recall much of this place."

The spinal recalibration chair crouched in the center of the white room, needles gleaming in the brilliant light--

A laser pinged! off his chest plating and Danse bared his teeth, taking another step forward. "I know all of your weaknesses, every last one of them. You might as well give up and face Commonwealth justice." He advised them sternly, brandishing his laser rifle in further threat.

"Forget about him, go and find Vega!" One of the cloaked coursers spat from somewhere behind Danse's back. "Father wants her dea--" The paladin pulled a sharp turn, putting a laser bolt directly through the invisible courser's skull with... alarmingly precise accuracy. Of course, that may have been their tactic to begin with. A body crashed against his back and Danse heard the tell-tale alert beep of an unmounted fusion core.

"A Brotherhood soldier is nothing without their power armor." The third courser taunted while Danse slowed under the ponderous weight of his armor. However, the courser's confidence was short-lived as the paladin used the little momentum he did have to instead fall backwards, crushing the synth beneath the massive frame of his armor.

The fusion core clattered and spun just out of reach on the floor, but Danse didn't even have the time to think about moving to grab it before two coursers were on him. Gloved hands clawed at his helmet; a fist slammed into the side of the metal with a resounding impact. Thank Steel the gorget seal held, and Danse managed to move his arm quickly enough to batter one of the coursers away with the sheer bulk of the gauntlet alone. The courser crashed into the wall and slumped to the ground, lifeless.

Danse frantically tried to count in his head, tried to recall how many coursers he still had to manage. He could barely move, already stringing himself along on little but adrenaline and the promise of seeing the sun again. How many hours had they been down here? It seemed like an eternity.

What would the EMP do to him? God, should he even risk it?

The paladin dragged himself up onto one knee, scrabbling at his waist for the grenade while that other courser seized the back of his helmet and ripped it off. The crackle of his mouthpiece dislodging itself from the helmet to dangle limp over his gorget seemed almost too loud.

Danse pulled the pin on the EMP as the square barrel of a laser rifle buried itself beside his ear, and his world went white.

…

The smooth, cool surface of the floor that his cheek rested on was the only thing he could feel.

- No! Voice cracking, screaming as he was wrestled down into the chair by the scientists, needles punching through his skin until the largest caliber ground into the nape of his neck please don't please don't -

- No! Cutler shrieking, misshapen green flesh pouring out around the strangling confines of his armor, his eyes gone mad but it's still him it's still him I can't -

- No! Elizabeth collapsing on top of him, the heat of her blood soaking through his shirt, her whole body thrown between he and Maxson no no no no NO -

Danse noticed, with a sense of detached horror, that his heart appeared to have stopped. The lack of pulse rang in his ears, one agonal gasp crushed his chest and then another rattled his body while everything in him fought to inhale. His consciousness was fading, flickering out like a candle in a gale as his rate of respiration continued to plummet.

Elizabeth, I'm so sorry .

His eyes were heavy, gritty with exhaustion. He should sleep. Just for a moment.

"- anse? Danse! Paladin Danse!"

Someone was yelling his name, and another voice that was closer shouted, "Open fire on the courser! Advance to secure the paladin!"

Suddenly, his heart shuddered to life, his pulse returning with a vengeance that seemed like it would deafen him. Danse heaved in a gasp of air, wheezing, body awash with clammy sweat as he tried to turn his head. Nausea sent his stomach rolling at the motion and a headache throbbed behind his eyes but he was alive --

Boots on the floor beside his head, someone standing over his body. "Grab his core and plug it back in! We need to get out of here!" Minutemen, Minutemen . It was Delta squadron doing their final sweep. Muskets roared overhead like death from above, the cacophony serving to further deafen the battered paladin.

He forced himself up onto his left elbow so that one of the Minutemen could slam the fusion core home in his back plating. The servos in Danse's armor creaked and groaned once more, and the paladin rose with relative ease.

"Our egress has been secured, sir!" A young soldier informed him loudly, her cheek smeared with the blood that trickled from her left ear.

Danse, still queasy and unsteady after his near death experience ( had he technically died? Did synths die? ), simply nodded and reached to accept his helmet from another Minuteman.

A laser bolt cracked! off the side of the helmet and the Minuteman dropped it in surprise. Danse lurched around, hauling up his gauntlet to shield his head from the next bolt that came. His free hand shot out of its own volition and he grabbed... something , slamming it back against the wall with all his strength

The courser flickered into view, Danse's gauntlet wrapped around his throat. The paladin almost wanted to wonder at his good fortune, but then the synth simply evaporated out of his grasp. " Dammit , his emergency relay." Danse swore hoarsely.

"Sir, we don't have time. The reactor is due to go at any second!" The armored man was all but dragged along, pushed and herded by the soldiers around him. His heart kept skipping beats, leaving him breathless and lightheaded as he struggled to keep up with his battalion.

"What news do we have of General Vega?" He yelled to anyone that would answer him. The shot from the courser had entirely destroyed what was left of the two-way transmitter in his helmet, rendering him unable to communicate with their main forces.

"No news, sir! Alpha squadron has already pulled out! We have reports from squadrons Echo, Foxtrot and Golf that synths have been sighted relaying in to their respective territories!" One of the soldiers replied, his tones clipped to be heard over the sound of the cabal's battle-rattle. "No word from Beta squadron on casualties yet, and Charlie is still waiting on us as of two minutes ago!"

The paladin cursed under his breath, his step hitching and nearly causing him to fall. Elizabeth, please , please be alive! He wasn't sure who he was praying to, or even why the hell he was bothering. He should have known better than to think his foolhardy plan to secure her escape would work.

Back through the old robotics area they stormed, everyone moving doubletime at this point. Alarms blaring overhead, PA system calmly announcing their fast-diminishing window to flee. Blood trickled down into his eyes from somewhere up on his scalp, stinging badly enough to briefly take Danse's mind off of his other injuries.

The door at the top of the stairs was wide open, and Danse's relief was crippling when he spied Sturges still at the control panel. The engineer whooped upon seeing the ragged group of men and women. "First in, last out! Now let's get the hell outta' here!" He shouted, waving the soldiers into the relay area. "We only got a minute or so until the whole place goes!"

Danse opened his mouth to ask whether Sturges had already transported Vega, but he was too late. Blue-white energy crackled and fizzled around him and the next thing he knew, he was being unceremoniously deposited on the ground in the shadow of the Prydwen.

…

"General, it's time." Preston said quietly. Backhand stared off into the distance, every fresh crackle of radio static making her heart drop. "We have to get this done. It needs to be finished," he continued when she stayed silent. "If you can't push it, that's fine. I know we did our best."

Reports had come in left and right that synths were being sighted across the Commonwealth, emergency relays dropping them in the most random of places. Every squadron had been accounted for, aside from Delta and Charlie.

"Did we do the right thing, Preston?" Backhand breathed. "Just think of all the good -"

"I don't think we'll ever know for certain, General. That's the reality of these kinds of scenarios. But you don't need me to tell you that." Preston interjected, his practical words shoring up her limited resolve. "You want me to do this?"

Vega closed her eyes, nodding rapidly. She heard the rustle of that outrageous coat, and a moment later there was the soft click of the charge being armed.

"It's done, General."

"Thank you, Preston." Vega sank down on the rooftop, tugging her knees into her chest and burying her face in them. The distant explosion tore a sob from her throat and as the Institute collapsed in on itself, General Vega dissolved into tears.

It felt like an eternity before Preston coaxed her to her feet, the lieutenant pressing his canteen into her hands. "Drink." He urged, his own eyes less than dry. " Drink , General. You're gonna' be okay. We'll get back to the Prydwen, back to your son. It'll all be just fine."

"I know." Vega mumbled through a mouthful of stale water, doing her best to ignore the plume of smoke that rose in the distance. "I'm okay, I promise. It's just a lot. I'm okay." She tried to assure Preston, huffing at his watery chuckle.

"No, you're not. You're exhausted and busted up and scared. This is a hell of a thing we've done, you've done. It's okay to be overwhelmed." Preston reasoned, grimacing. "We've got a decent walk back, if you need to talk."

"What about you , though? How are you holding up?"

"I'm not sure if it's real yet." Preston admitted. "It'll take some getting used to. But...I'm glad to know that we don't have to fear the Institute anymore."

His lapel radio crackled, Pride squadron requesting verification on successful detonation.

"Relay our message to the Castle: mission accomplished, the Institute has been leveled. I repeat, mission accomplished." Preston replied into the handset, seeming a little shell-shocked at being able to say the words.

Mission accomplished .

Backhand sniffled, a new wave of emotion threatening to send her spiraling yet again.

Shaun . The synthetic child. A child. A son . A second chance that she didn't deserve.

She fished the holotape he had given her out of her pocket, slotting it into her Pip Boy after a momentary struggle. To her shock, it was Father's voice that issued from the speaker.

" If you are hearing this, then whatever conflicts you and I have endured are over… "

…

Danse wandered across the airport tarmac, some distant part of him aware that he was in a state of shock. He had dropped his helmet. Where, he couldn't say. His head was still bleeding and he was certain that other areas of his body needed medical attention, but he couldn't seem to get himself to stop searching the area for Elizabeth.

He hadn't seen her, the child or that courser that had warned them of the ambush. His heart sank as he wondered whether the synth had simply been a tool to get him out of the way, separating the paladin from Vega.

Why had Vega parted from Alpha squadron in the first place? Oh surely, he knew exactly why. She had wanted to confront that man who had once been her son on her own. But it had been reckless , and it may have cost them dearly.

Danse groaned, very nearly attempting to rub his eyes before he remembered he was still in his armor and he would probably blind himself in the process.

All around him were wounded Minutemen, scribes and aspirants rushing back and forth to try and mediate the damage that had been done. The synths and scientists were easy to spot, each one clad in brilliant white Institute garb. They huddled together in small groups, some crying, some silent, others staring around wide-eyed in wonder.

Danse realized suddenly that this would be the first time many of them had even seen the sun. He must have been like them once, all curiosity and fear. He shook his head, more blood dripping into his eye causing him to wince. The paladin grunted, clumsily smearing the trickle from his hairline across his forehead with his gauntlet. It must be mixing with his sweat.

"Danse!" That voice…

The paladin racked his brain, trying to recall the name of the person who owned the voice.

It started with a P.

Writing. Writer? Wright .

Piper?

The woman materialized out of the throngs of scribes, her cap set at a steep angle. In her hand she clutched a battered notepad, and she waved it furiously as if to get Danse's attention. "Hey, big fella'! Over here!" She called, rocking on her heels impatiently while the paladin trudged towards her. "What the hell happened to you in there? You look like a stretch of lonely road!"

Danse hiccupped, trying for a salute. His arms felt like lead. "I...There was--I-I was separated-" The words wouldn't come, the paladin still reeling from his near-death experience, the loss of Vega, everything , it was too much.

Was he crying?

"Oh Danse, hey, c'mon, easy." Piper soothed, one hand tentatively hovering over his right gauntlet. "It's okay big fella', it's alright."

Danse shook his head, utterly mortified as he tried to regulate his sobs.

"I was about to ask for a full run-down from a tactical perspective. Y'know, to uh, ease the fears of the Commonwealth populace at large. but I can see that you're in a...er, state right now." Her attempt at delicacy didn't go unnoticed and Danse gritted his teeth. His hands clenched into tight fists as he fought to get himself back under control. These damn emotions-!

"The operation appears to have been successful." He rasped finally. "We are still...waiting on confirmation. But I am c--I am confident in our success. I am...uncertain of our losses. My two-way was destroyed in the fracas." He gestured at the mangled mess of wires and what was left of the coupling attached to his gorget. God only knew where he had dropped his helmet, but it didn't really matter. If the coursers tearing it off of him hadn't broken the two-way wholly, that final laser had finished the job. "I have no method of communication, I'm afraid. We should...we should find the field scribes and comms."

Danse could feel the haze of trauma dissipating the longer he spoke, the tactical compartmentalization that had served him so well taking over once more. There would be time later to mourn what he had lost. Right now, it was the Brotherhood's sworn duty to ensure that the Commonwealth remained safe and, more importantly, informed .

"Come with me, Miss Wright." He ordered, using the advantage of his height to search for the elevated ground of their radio shelter.

"It's Piper ."

…

Vega's boots kicked up a cloud of dust, her footsteps weary. Preston was silent alongside her, the young man clearly deep in thought. Backhand was still reeling from the holotape, Father's words playing over and over in her mind...

I had hoped to gift this child to you as some sort of consolation for losing me all those years ago, but your actions have proven you unreasonable. If you are hearing this message, no doubt you have found this unit's corpse and stripped it clean.

Did you think I had no idea you were working with the Brotherhood? The Railroad? You cannot be so naive, Mother. I am merely stunned that it took you so long to gather your forces.

On the off chance that your bloodlust can be slaked before the total destruction of everything I have built, I would ask that you still take this...synth. This boy, rather, as you would no doubt insist on calling him, has been programmed to believe he is your son. Should he survive you and whatever rampant destruction you have planned, I ask that you raise him as your own.

You have no real reason to do so, of course. There would be no tangible benefit, and I know all too well of your callous disregard for life.

Sleep easy tonight, knowing that you've rid the Commonwealth of its greatest hope for prosperity.

Backhand cleared her throat. "Preston, do you-" She hesitated. "What if I'm not...what if I'm not cut out for this mom stuff? What if all I'm good for is military shit?" The woman asked plaintively. "I was willing to do anything for my son, back before the bombs dropped. But now...I mean, what the hell kind of life can I even offer to the...to Shaun?"

"A life at all, I suppose. The freedom to choose."

Backhand closed her eyes, forcing a breath out. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I think so, anyway. You've fought so hard for folks you don't even know, General! And it isn't like you'd be doin' it alone." Preston reasoned with a smile. "If it seems a little too overwhelming, just remember: there at a moment's notice . We're with you, no matter what."

"I was kinda' hoping I'd put you guys out of a job!" Vega tried to joke.

"Nah, we've still got a lot of work to do. Commonwealth's a big place, General." Preston patted her shoulder, waving to the sentries on the Brotherhood retaining walls at the airport. Far overhead loomed Liberty Prime, all gangly steel limbs as its head slowly turned back and forth in a scanning motion.

Vega began skimming the crowds of wounded from force of habit, her eyes stopping dead at the sight of a black leather coat.

X6-88 . The courser looked dazed, a singular patch of reddened gauze gracing his forehead. His body was still wrapped protectively around the child, around Shaun , who seemed to be sound asleep. The synth kept snarling at anyone who got too close. Vega wondered who on earth had managed to dress his head. Had someone just tossed him a gauze pack and fled in terror?

She received her answer a second later as Curie emerged from the crowd, the young woman sporting her usual nearly-spotless white coat to denote her medical ability. X6 would have known her by a different name, however.

G5-19 .

Backhand's heart broke at the way that the courser was obviously struggling to contain himself, the general watching Curie swap out the soaked gauze for a fresh bandage. When Curie reached for Shaun though, X6 said something to her that made her tilt her head in confusion.

"- know me? Monsieur Courser, I am afraid I do not have zee pleasure." She was saying as Vega and Preston drew within earshot.

"You were...in the Institute, I...we knew each other." X6 replied in a fragmentary fashion.

"Ah! I must apologize, Monsieur Courser. I am afraid zat zis body was wiped nearly clean when I acquired it. Zee original owner was in a catatonic state. Somezing about EMP grenades and raiders, if I recall." The former Nanny bot squinted at the courser, pursing her lips. "And yet, you are... strangely familiar! Ah, zis body is a marvel." She continued cheerily, producing two small, plastic-wrapped snack cakes from her doctor's coat. "One for you, and one for zee child when he wakes."

X6-88 accepted the prepackaged treats with a nod, spotting Elizabeth over Curie's shoulder. "General Vega, is it?" The courser asked, his voice weary.

"How you holdin' up, X6?" Vega queried in turn, startled when the killing machine offered her a tight-lipped nod.

"The wound is not too grievous, even with the limited amount of medical prowess it seems the surface has. She appears to believe I will survive."

"Madame Vega, it is such a relief to see you in one piece!" Curie exclaimed warmly, the synth hauling her into a hug and planting a kiss on either cheek. "It would appear your mission was a success, yes?"

"I'd say so." Preston answered for Vega, the lieutenant observing the courser with a fair amount of trepidation. "General, are you sure you...uh. Well, y'know."

"Lieutenant Garvey," Preston flinched when X6 used his name, "If I intended to cause you harm, you would already be dead."

Remarkably , that attempt at reassurance did very little, and Vega smacked herself on the forehead as Preston went a touch gray. "You sure keep some interesting company, General." He commented, his voice cracking.

"Listen, I said you'd be safe and I'm a woman of my word. But please don't give any of these Brotherhood weirdos an excuse to shoot you." Backhand requested of the courser. "If you want, I'll take over on babysitting duty and you can get the hell out of here. I know it probably feels like you're sitting in the middle of a hornet's nest."

X6-88 hesitated, his eyes darting to Curie and then back to the general. "I will stay, ma'am." He answered her staunchly, looking weary all of a sudden.

"Okay. But if you do want to leave, just have them walkie for me. Find basically anyone with a radio. You don't have to stay if you don't want to, I need that to be clear. You're free to go wherever you want, X6."

"I…" The courser's brow furrowed and he merely nodded silently after a moment, readjusting his grip on the sleeping Shaun.

Vega knew she had so much to do, so much to continue planning, but she took a self-indulgent second to brush Shaun's hair back out of his eyes. Dark, dark brown, almost black, just like his father…

Elizabeth smiled sadly, and then set off in the direction of the communications tent.

…

"No word from her yet, sir. Lieutenant Garvey told us of the success of the mission, but it is unclear if she is with him or not."

The field scribe's words burrowed into Danse's gut like a knife. Fear, anxiety, the unstoppable creeping sensation of realizing that he had been too late or not enough -

The paladin shoved the emotions down, all too aware of Piper waiting at his elbow with baited breath. "The reports from the other squadrons then, Scribe."

"Emergency relays began to activate at five minutes to meltdown, sir. Several synths were spotted in the outskirts of Diamond City and were quickly scooped up by the citizens of Goodneighbor, or Golf squadron, in conjunction with John D.'s forces." The young man replied, tugging one side of his headset off of his ears. "Foxtrot and Echo encountered the most resistance, as a platoon of coursers and gen one synths were sent to both the Castle and Bunker Hill. It seems that both locations held out well. Minimal casualties reported."

"What's your take on this whole situation, bud? Would you consider this a victory?" Piper asked, leaning around Danse to speak with the scribe. "Enquiring minds want to know!"

"I-I am not at liberty to pass judgement, civilian, b-but it seems that the operation has gone well!" The scribe stammered, darting his eyes at Danse as if fearful of the paladin's discipline.

Danse snorted, a touch amused despite the distress that threatened to engulf him. Piper was far more formidable than a cursory glance would assume. It wasn't Danse that this young man needed to be concerned about.

The doorway at the other end of the tent was flung open, sunset light pouring in with the influx of more bodies from the triage area. Danse didn't really pay any mind to it, more invested in hearing the rest of the field scribe's report.

That is, until a certain voice broke through the dull roar of radio static and muffled transmissions. "I need news of Delta squadron!" Vega barked, "particularly of Paladin Danse! Who has eyes on Danse?"

The scribe across from the dumbfounded paladin looked up at him slack-jawed, then bolted to his feet. "G-General Vega, ma'am! The paladin-!"

"Elizabeth." Danse breathed, his voice nearly inaudible as he straightened up from the table.

When her eyes met his, it was as if something broke inside him. Danse covered the ground between them in a heartbeat, gathering her into a fierce, armored embrace. " Logan! " Vega cried, her arms flinging open to cling to his sides. He almost dared to believe that she sounded relieved or delighted . "You're okay, you're okay, thank fuck ." She mumbled against his breastplate, clutching the lucky bandanna she had tied to his arm like she wasn't sure if he was real. "We did it, we did it, holy shit."

Vega appeared to be in a state of shock, finally lifting her head from Danse's chest when Piper hollered, "Blue!", the reporter hugging her from behind and sandwiching the general between herself and Danse.

Danse's heart ached as he watched Vega dissolve into tears, Piper gripping her tight and his own hold unwavering. Preston entered the tent as well, the younger man clapping Danse on the pauldron to congratulate him on his survival.

We did it .

Part Twenty

#fallout 4 #fallout four #paladin danse #paladin danse x sole survivor #paladin danse/sole survivor #paladin danse imagine #fallout fandom #fallout fanfic #fo4 companions imagine #fo4 companions #paladin danse x f!sole #Eventual romance #slow burn #we are nearly at the end #what a wild ride #canon-typical violence #fo4 x6-88 #fo4 preston garvey #fo4 piper wright

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radbeetle · 4 years

Photo

|Call to Arms|

wow these screenshots are so old. do you know why i’ve been sitting on them for so long? because i wanted to finish the writing about this mission before I posted them

AND I DID. Check it out on AO3 or under the readmore.

“These robots were assaulted by institute synths.”

Katherine scrunched up her face and shielded her eyes as she looked up at Danse , who insisted on keeping his headlamp on.

“Um, sorry, I - I gotta ask… what are… synths?” and what’s the institute, for that matter, she thought to herself, but one question at a time.

“Technological abominations created by the institute, and let loose to run rampant throughout the commonwealth.” Danse’s voice was heavy with disgust, even through the buzzy modulation of his power armor.

“Danse. That’s… I get that you don’t like them, but what are they?” Katherine pleaded. “Just… in simple terms? Please?”

He scoffed. “I would have thought you familiar with them. Most in the Commonwealth seem to be.”

Katherine deflated, shoulders sinking. “Well… just… I’m out of the loop. Let’s leave it at that.”

The blank stare of the T-60’s helmet concealed Danse’s puzzlement. Regardless, he provided explanation. “Robots, built in the shape of man. A mannequin brought to life by machinery. They’re a mockery of humankind at best, and a blight upon this world at worst.”

Katherine bit her tongue, and suppressed her curiosity. As much as she wanted to know more, it was obvious Danse was biased. “I guess things have come a long way from the Mr. Handy, huh.” There was still a little bit of awe in her voice - she very much wanted to see these synths. Truly humanoid robots had always been a lofty goal of the industry… she had heard of RobCo’s Assaultrons, but they were still miles away.

Danse scoffed. “Unfortunately. Keep your eyes open as we move deeper into the facility. It’s highly likely that the Institute’s forces still have a presence here.” The paladin was already moving on, and Katherine was quick to follow.

“Mmm-hmm.” She wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Part of her was brimming with curiosity about these synths… and part of her knew that if they could take down those protectrons, they could take down her.

“This place has really been trashed, huh? What do you think it was like back in the day?”

“Filled with men making poor decisions, I’m certain.”

Katherine pressed her lips. So much for small talk. Thankfully, it wasn’t long before the hallways opened up into another room. Two dust coated windows framed a sliding door, which Danse was quick to investigate.

“This is the way forwards, but it seems to be locked tight. There’s no apparent way to open it from here.”

Katherine straightened up, and holstered her 10mm. “Oh, if there’s no visible controls on the door, they’re likely wired into a local terminal. It’s technically required for them have a way to bypass the lock through the hardware, in case of emergency, but they never make it easy. Security stuff. Uh…” she trailed off for a moment, glancing around the room. There were a few desks still standing on the opposite wall, terminals still intact. “Um, give me a moment.” She kicked a toppled chair away from the desk, and bent over the keyboard. “Mmm, this one’s still logged in. I guess there’s not really time to properly disconnect from your workstation when they’re bombing the city.” she muttered as she scrolled through the inbox.

“Any luck over there?” Danse inquired.

“I’ve got access to the internal mail system, uh, lots of reminders about security protocols and - ah-heh. Automated password change reminder. Looks like it’s for the lab access?” Katherine had a gnawing feeling in her gut that she was over-explaining things. Surely the paladin didn’t care about the specifics.

“That’s where we’re headed.”

“Great, yeah, uh.” She scanned the room again and scampered to the other still functional terminal. “Let’s hope…” she trailed off.

Danse took a few steps away from the laboratory door, turning to watch Katherine with mild curiosity, hidden behind the power armor helmet. She seemed quite at home amongst the terminals and technology. An unusual trait, compared to most of the wastelanders he met. Though he was initially skeptical of her claim to being a Vault Dweller - the Brotherhood had no record of a Vault 111, after all - he wondered if perhaps there was some truth to her statement.

“Hey!” Kate’s head popped up over the top of the terminal. “Got it.”

“Excellent. Let’s not waste any more time. If you could open the door?”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah.” A swift keystroke and the door opened with the whnk-hsss of pneumatics.

Paladin Danse formed around, set once again to lead the way onward, through the facility - but the incandescent blue laser bolt that buzzed his power armor brought those plans to a standstill.

“Hostile detected.” The matter-of-fact statement and computerized voice carried no overt aggression, a sharp contrast to the flurry of laser fire passing through the now opened doorway.

“Synths! Take cover!”

Katherine didn’t need to be told - she dove for cover behind a fallen file cabinet the instant she caught sight of the laser’s flash. Her grip tightened around her pistol as she heard Danse shout - a cautious glimpse revealed that the synths - that’s what he said they were? - were prioritizing the Paladin as a target, paying no attention to her. She wasn’t sure if they had even noticed her.

A dozen thoughts all raced through her head, tangling together as she stared at the machines. Mannequins was the comparison Danse had drawn. He wasn’t too far off. They were battered, damaged, rubber skin torn to reveal steel skeletons and plastic components. Only a moment had passed before one of them turned its gaze to Kate. The faint yellow glow of its eyes and the exposed grimace of its metal skull was an eerie sight - and one that quickly exploded in a shower of sparks and shrapnel.

Danse had taken it out with a single headshot.

The moment was enough to jolt her back into action, and she followed up by returning fire. Her 10mm pistol wasn’t nearly as effective as the AER-9 laser rifle Danse carried, but it did the job.

“Hmph. Sent them to the scrap heap.” He noted the laser weaponry carried by the synths, and had a realization. He glanced at the pistol carried by his current associate, and offered her the backup laser rifle he had brought. “Take this. I’m certain there’ll be more of them, and they’ll be carrying microfusion cells. Energy will be more effective than a weapon of a ballistic nature.” The Paladin tossed the rifle towards Katherine, who caught it with a startled yelp. She turned the weapon over in her hands. She had a passing familiarity with the AER-9 - though she had never personally handled one, she understood the basic mechanisms, and microfusion cells were something she was well acquainted with.

She fastened her 10mm pistol to her belt and kept the laser in hand. Danse had already stepped over the smoldering wrecks of the synths, but her curiosity was too strong. She stopped in the middle of the room, and crouched down over one of the robots.

They had been shooting at me only minutes ago, she thought, and there was still part of her that was worried they might spring back to life. Yet despite that lurking fear, she had to get a closer look.

The situation struck her as a little morbid, perhaps. Moreso than examining a broken-down Mr. Handy, at least.

It was the faces, she thought. The eyes.

The Institute. That’s where Danse said they had come from. Katherine had seen how the world was torn apart, still ruined from the bombs dropped so long ago. But it seemed that somewhere out there, something had not just survived, but thrived. Moved on past the limits of the world she knew, developed things that General Atomics could only have dreamed of.

A weight settled somewhere deep in her chest as she turned one over. An aching sort of sadness.

She didn’t have a chance to process those feelings, to figure out the why behind them.

“What are you doing? Hurry up. We can’t waste any more time.” Danse snapped, irritated by what he saw as Kate’s dawdling.

“Oh.” Katherine’s response was quiet. She got to her feet, gaze lingering on the remains of the synths, before turning away to follow Danse once again, through the ruins of ArcJet.

Katherine was worn down by the repeated encounters with the institute synths - after the first firefight she stuck closer than ever to the paladin - and stayed behind him, too. The power armor could take a laser much better than she could.

She was sure Danse was scowling at her cowardice, under his helmet.

“This way leads to the engine core. We’ll have to pass through here to reach the location where they’ve likely stored the transmitter.”

Danse looked back to find Kate dragging her fingers through the dust on a long abandoned desk, staring at a box of long faded files and folders.

“Everything here stopped so suddenly… how many people do you think made it out?”

He hesitated. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“When… the bombs dropped.” Katherine clarified, her voice tinged with sadness.

Danse cocked his head. “I couldn’t tell you, and I doubt anyone in the commonwealth has that information, given how many years have passed since those events.” He scoffed. “Regardless, I would suggest against concerning yourself with the people of the past. Their actions brought the war upon themselves.”

Her only response to Danse’s declaration was to go very quiet.

The elevator ride that took them to the engine core was awkward; Katherine pressed herself into the back corner of the car and wondered how much a suit of T-60 power armor weighed. Every time the elevator creaked, or groaned, she flinched. The thought that it had gone two centuries without maintenance scared her.

Kate’s knuckles went white as she clutched the pitted railing, just leaning barely enough over to stare down to the depths of the room. Her eyes followed the length of the rocket booster back up, and turned to look back at Danse, whose attention was drawn upwards, assessing the staircase - and the massive gap where it had broken away over the past two centuries.

It wasn’t filling Katherine with confidence, that was for sure.

–

It was only a short few flights to the floor of the test chamber, thankfully. The ash crunched under Katherine’s feet, and she walked a line around the edge of the room, idly looking over the footprints she left.

Danse placed an armored hand on the cowl of the engine, which had laid dormant for over two centuries. He wondered briefly if the brotherhood would have a use for it.

Maybe if it were smaller. As it stood, there was no way to transport the thing.

“See if you can find a way to turn the power back on. Perhaps redirect it from other parts of the facility.”

“Yeah - yeah sure.” There were only two ways out of the room, aside from the stairs. An elevator, unpowered and unusable, and a set of heavy steel double doors, halfway open and leading to what looked like a maintenance hall, judging by the wires and pipes running along the concrete. Seemed promising - or so she hoped.

There was a… she supposed it was some sort of control room, judging by all the consoles and buttons present, but she didn’t pay much attention to it - another doorway at the rear of the room exposed a fusion generator, and that was much more promising when it came to potential power systems.

Not just one fusion generator, but two - and a terminal at the back of the room. She nudged the chair away from the desk, wheels leaving a trail in the dust. As she settled in, Kate’s fingers ran across the terminal keys. There was no elaborate security down here in the depths. It didn’t surprise her. But it did make her current task easier - and she was glad. She tapped her way through various options, scanning every choice and setting .

Ah. There we go. Auxiliary power. A few confirmations and…

She could hear the power systems coming to life in the walls around her, the faint buzz of electricity through wires, and the hum of mechanical systems powering up. That should have done it, if everything was still connected.

The fusion generators she had passed has turned quiet, and her gaze lingered on the fusion core left inside. Well… if that was no longer connected, no longer needed.

Push, turn, and a click as it disconnected, slipped into her pocket on the way out.

It was the sound of gunfire that made Katherine snap to attention once again. Or, more accurately, laser fire. Flashes of blue and red through the reinforced glass window of the control room.

The paladin’s shouts confirmed her assumption.

“Synths!”

She froze up, eyes darting across the room, tracking the barrage of blue bolts in front of her.

It felt like hours before Danse called out again, directed at her. “Do something, Vance! Don’t just - urgh - stand there!”

It was enough to jolt her into action.

She slammed her open palm down on the big red button on the console in front of her.

The sounds of laser fire weren’t enough to obscure the pre-recorded countdown that initiated.

“Command accepted. Test fire commencing in five… four…”

Katherine’s heart was doing backflips in her chest. “Test fi- oh god oh no job on that’s not -” She pounded on the window. “Danse!”

“Three… two…”

Danse didn’t have time to muster a response, under the onslaught of synths.“

"One. Engine firing.”

The roar of the engine was deafening, and Katherine’s immediate reaction was to cover her ears. The sound was matched in intensity by the engine’s output - even here behind the safety of the blast shield, she still felt the wave of heat.

Danse dropped to one knee, arm raised to shield his face. The steel of his power armor picked up a faint red glow around the edges under the engine’s flames.

The synths weren’t nearly as durable. Any of them immediately under the test engine were swiftly reduced to ash, and those with a little more distance crumpled to the floor within moments.

“Test firing completed with an efficiency rating of ninety-six point seven percent.”

Katherine was already at the blast doors by the time they swung open. Her footsteps crackled in the ash as she ran to Danse.

He hadn’t moved since going down, and that made her fearful.

But as she approached, he groaned, reaching for the laser rifle he had dropped.

“Danse? Oh my god I’m - shit, shit I’m sorry I didn’t know - I didn’t think - *are you okay?!” She was on the verge of panic.

“I’m fine.” Danse grunted, getting to his feet with a little more effort than usual.“Thanks to my power armor. Without it I would have fared no better than those damn synths.”

Katherine reached a hand out, a gesture of support, but as she placed it on his arm…

“Ouch!” She yelped, flinching backwards. The metal still held quite a bit of heat. She shook her hand - that was gonna leave a mark.

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Maybe it wasn’t the wisest decision, but the results are acceptable enough.” The paladin gestured toward the elevator, where the call buttons were now lit up. “I strongly suggest we keep moving on. I don’t know how many more synths are in this building, or if they’re on their way to us again, and I’d rather not stand around to learn the answer.”

Perhaps it was more of a command than a suggestion, as he didn’t wait for a reply before heading towards the elevator.

“Um…” Kate hurried after him, still worried, though now for a different reason. “How much does that power armor weigh…? Is that going to be within the weight limit? I don’t - that elevator is two hundred years old and I know it hasn’t had regular maintenance, what if it -”

Danse turned around to look at Katherine. Even with his helmet obscuring his expression, she could sense his disapproval.

“Sorry.” She offered lamely, before going quiet and squeezing into the elevator car beside him.

It was a tight fit.

“All the information I’ve gathered indicates that the deep range transmitter is most likely stored in this control room,” Danse explained, “and there’s almost no evidence of scavenger activity in these parts of the facility.”

“What about the synths?”

“They arrived not long before we did, from the looks of things. If the deep range transmitter isn’t in the control room, one of the synths may have taken it. If that’s the case, we should hope they haven’t yet left the facility - if they’re still here, recovering the transmitter will be a simple task.”

“… more gunfights?”

“Very likely.”

Katherine clutched her laser rifle just a little tighter as they made their way towards the control room.

She was very conscious of her choice to keep behind Danse. The power armor protected him - and anyone behind him.

The tinny statement of “Hostile detected.” was the first sign of synths ahead, followed by the pchew of laser fire overhead.

“Contact!” Danse was the superior marksman between them and was quick to take out a trio of synths. They crumpled to the ground in rapid succession, and the third found its plastic skin burnt to ash as it fell.

Katherine was quick to offer fire against the last two synths as Danse reloaded - though none of her shots missed, she was far less accurate. It took more than twice as many shots for her to take them down.

“Well done.”

“Oh - um. Thank- thank you.” She never was great at handling praise, and was quick to scamper off in search of the transmitter, investigating the destroyed synths while Danse searched the room.

A few recovered microfusion cells found their way into her pockets, before a larger item caught her eye. She nudged the synth aside with her boot, uncovering… well, she wasn’t certain it was the deep range transmitter but it did have the look of a very complicated and very expensive piece of technology.

Katherine made her way back to Danse with the device slung under her arm. “Hey - I found this and um. Is this what you’re after?”

“That would be it, yes. Excellent! And it doesn’t appear to have sustained any damage.”

“Yeah, that’s good news.”

“There should be a way to exit the facility from here, so there won’t be any need to backtrack. Follow me.”

Danse wasn’t one to loiter - Katherine found it hard to keep up with him.

“… oh, another elevator.”

The service elevator led to an exit behind the ArcJet building, up a hill, sheltered inside a concrete structure. The commonwealth was quiet - there were no signs of any synths lingering outside. They were both equally relieved by this.

Danse took a few steps past the aged, rusting fence, and turned back to face Katherine. With his rifle holstered he reached up to remove his helmet, tucking it under one arm as he spoke. “well, I’m certain that could have gone smoother, but mission accomplished.”

Kate winced. She really had no frame of reference here. “I’m - I’m sorry. I didn’t…” She trailed off, deflating.

“While the operation was flawed, your contributions were still invaluable. Without your assistance I would certainly have been overwhelmed on multiple occasions. I’m not certain I could have retrieved the transmitter on my own.”

“Oh…!” There was surprise in Kate’s exclamation. She shuffled her feet a bit, awkward. “I’m… glad to hear that. I think.”

The paladin continued onward. “With that said, I believe we have two important matters to discuss. First and foremost is the deep range transmitter. If you’ll hand it to me, I’d like to compensate you for your assistance during this operation.”

“Yeah, yeah okay, here, this is, um. This is yours.” Kate offered Danse the device, which was swiftly packed away and secured.

He unholstered the rifle at his side, presenting it to Katherine. “Here. You clearly have an aptitude with technology - and with energy weapons. I think you’ll benefit from this; It’s my own personal modification to the standard issue AER9 laser rifle.”

“…really? Don’t you need this?” Katherine gingerly accepted the weapon, scanning it. She could see evidence of tinkering - and, of course, the brotherhood’s symbol stencilled along the barrel. She ran a thumb across the paint.

“It’s not the only weapon at my disposal. Besides, I believe in paying my debts.”

“Well then… thank you.”

“You’re welcome, civilian. Now, onto the second matter.”

Kate bit her tongue, unsure of what to expect.

“I wanted to make you a proposal. We had a lot thrown at us back there, and for the most part, you handled yourself exceptionally.”

She found herself wanting to disagree, but said nothing.

“Our op could have ended in disaster, but your determination kept that from happening. I believe that with a bit of training, you could be a valuable asset to the Brotherhood.”

“Erm.” Was she being recruited? She would have flunked out of the pre-war military almost instantly.

“The way I see it, you’ve got a choice. You could spend the rest of your life wandering the commonwealth, scrounging for supplies and trading your skills for a meager reward. Or, you could join the Brotherhood of Steel and make your mark on the world.” Danse shifted his weight, grip tightening on the helmet he still held.

“So, what do you say?”

Kate bit her lip. “The Brotherhood of Steel, huh? You guys are… aren’t you military?”

“Essentially, yes.”

Her hesitation was obvious. “Is this something I can think about? I don’t think I know enough here to, uh. to make a decision so quickly.”

“Of course. It’s a big decision. The offer still stands, and when you’ve made up your mind, you know where to find me.” Danse took a moment to put his helmet on once again, and his voice crackled out from within. “With all that said, I need to return to the police station. The deep range transmitter ought to be installed sooner, rather than later, so we can get in contact with the rest of the Brotherhood. Thank you again for your assistance, Vance. I wish you the best.”

Katherine found herself staring after Danse as he turned and left, heavy footsteps echoing off the hills around them. She shook her head as if to clear it. This whole thing had taken her off track, and she sighed. She had always been praised for her willingness to help, but so often that kept her away from her own tasks.

She certainly wasn’t going to make it to Diamond City today, she realized - the sky was still light, but she knew that wasn’t going to last much longer.

There weren’t enough hours in the day. That had been true two hundred years ago, and it was still true now.

She wasn’t looking forward to setting up camp for the night.

#fallout 4 #screenshots #paladin danse #fallout oc #sole survivor katherine #radbeetle screenshots #beetle's ocs #radbeetle writes #i might have to start just linking to the longer things on ao3 because wow this one went long #katherine's memories

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gold-and-rubies · 4 years

Note

Companions and Sturges, Proctor Ingram and the Minuteman Radio Freedom guy (we call him Saxon in this house) react to Sole giving them a gift on a special day, please!

I decided to go with a mix of anniversaries and birthdays. It’s a bit long, so I’m doing this in two parts, and everything is under the read more thing. It’s in alphabetical order from Cait to Dogmeat. Don’t worry, MacCready will be in the next one.

Part two can be found here

Cait: Cait sat on the couch of her and Sole’s shared home, unwrapping her hand wraps. Sole had insisted that she use them when she fought or practiced. Cait had scoffed at that. Bruised knuckles were the least of her worries, but she complied. After all it was to protect her, and Sole was the one who asked.

She hummed quietly as she inspected her hands. She looked up as someone opened the door, ready to fight. She calmed when Sole walked through. No one but them ever just walked in, but she was still getting used to that.

“Hey, I got something for you,” they greeted, holding up a somewhat long box.

She raised an eyebrow at them. Sole getting her stuff wasn’t out of the ordinary, but there was never an air of mystery to it.

Sole stepped over to the couch and sat beside her. They set the box on the coffee table in front of them.

“Open it,” they smiled, “but be careful. It’s sharp.”

Cait sat forward and took the lid off of the box. Inside was an aluminum bat with metal spikes welded to it. It looked like it was brand new. She picked it up by it’s leather wrapped handle. It was heavy in her hands, but not too much. It felt like it was the perfect weight to do some real destruction.

“Happy birthday, Cait. I hope you like it. Took me a while to find what I need, and to make it. I was worried it wouldn’t be done in time,” they explained.

Birthdays. She never understood why someone would want to celebrate them. Just another year they survived in the wasteland, but this...

She set it back in the box, close to tears. She fought them back. They were happy tears, but tears nonetheless. In her mind she had spent enough time crying. So instead she enveloped Sole in a bone crushing hug.

“Thanks, love. I’m sure it’ll be put to good use. Raiders will regret lettin’ me live this long.”

Codsworth: Codsworth floated around the kitchen in the old home in Sanctuary. Although the definition of clean changed, his job had gotten a bit easier now that Sole was living in it again. He actually had things to clean up now.

Sole poked their head through the glassless window. They had installed shutters to keep out critters and the elements, but it was a nice day so they were open.

“Hey, Codsworth. You know how you were complaining about some of your joints needing work, and your thruster needing an upgrade,” they said.

“Yes?”

“Well I found the parts, so If you want, I can do those repairs now.”

He paused, unsure how to respond, “Now? But I am in the middle of cleaning the dishes.”

“Yes, now, that is if you want. The dishes can wait. Especially today.”

“Today?”

“You don’t remember? Today is the day I brought you here,” they explained.

Codsworth swore if he was a human or synth he would have blushed.

“That is very kind of you. If you don’t mind, I will finish the dishes, then we can get started on the repairs”

Curie: Curie stood in her makeshift lab trying to get some work done, but her mind was elsewhere. Sole had been gone for about a month with Mister Valentine. While she trusted him to keep them safe, she still missed them dearly.

Someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” she said.

Maybe it was someone who needed help. Maybe she just needed to try to focus on a different task.

She did not look up right away. She tried to make a final observation on the stingwing venom she was working with.

“What? Giving me the cold shoulder?” a familiar voice asked.

She looked up to see Sole Standing in the door frame smiling at her. She gently set down the vial of venom, then rushed over to greet Sole with a hug.

“I’m sorry, my love. I did not know it was you.”

“It’s alright. Looks like you were in the middle of something. I got you something, by the way.”

“What? A gift for me? Oh, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I felt like I needed to. I was gone for a while, and today is a very special day.”

“Special day?” she repeated.

They reached around to one of their back pants pockets and produced a small box that made a rattling noise as it moved.

“Happy anniversary, Curie. They’re aster seeds from Far Harbor. I know it isn’t much, but I thought you’d like to study them, and some living flowers.

“Oh my love, they’re wonderful,” she gasped, “I’m sure they will look beautiful as well.”

She smiled fondly at the box. Observations, discoveries, and experiments were waiting to be made.

Danse: Danse sat at the weaponry workbench at the Red Rocket just outside of Sanctuary. It had been a little over a year since his departure from the Brotherhood. Most of the people there had come to accept him now, but he still preferred to be alone most of the time. Well, alone with Sole.

But Sole was not there at the moment, instead it was just him and the project he was working on. Sole had talked him into joining the Minutemen, and he had some time off so he decided to make some adjustments to his personal laser musket.

He was so focused on his work that he did not hear Sole approach. He jumped slightly when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see them smiling at him.

“Hey,” they said, cocking their head to the side. A soft smile was on their face.

“Hey,” he said back. His voice cracked slightly. He was still adjusting the casual affection.

“How’s the project going?” they asked.

“Good. Luckily, I think we already have the parts to make a stronger beam. How’d the trip to Diamond City go?”

“It went well. I got you something.”

He raised an eyebrow at them. They produced a small box, and handed it to him. He opened it and his eyes widened. Inside were old school dog tags. They looked brand new. His eyes started to tear up as he picked them up. He looked up at them.

“I know your old holo tags meant alot to you. There’s a jewelry maker in Diamond City now, so I got him to make these for you. I hope you like them. Happy anniversary.”

He put them back in the box and set it down on the workbench, before standing up and pulling them into a hug. He kissed the top of their head.

“They’re great. Thank you so much.”

Deacon: Deacon was sitting in their current hideout that doubled as a sniper's nest. He was up against the farthest wall from the vantage point, so the glowing end of his cigarette.

He heard someone starting to approach the door to his right. As he reached for his rifle he heard the knocking pattern that he and Sole had agreed upon as to not startle each other.

Sure enough, they stepped through the door, but they were carrying a box they had not left with. It was somewhat flat and medium sized. It didn’t seem to be heavy. He wondered what was inside.

“A present? For me? Aw you shouldn’t have,” he joked.

“Actually, it is a present. For you,” the responded, mimicking his tone. Despite that they were completely serious.

“Wait, what?” he blinked. It was hard to surprise him, and this certainly did the trick.

“Here,” they handed it to him, “open it”

He took it, suspicious of what they were up to. While he didn’t think it would hurt him, neither were strangers to playing pranks… on each other.

When he opened it, it took him a bit to realize what he was looking at. For a terrifying moment he thought it was some sort of dead animal, but when he picked it up he realized it was actually a rather high quality wig. It was dark brown styled into a simple hair style.

“What…?”

“Figured you could use a new one. One that doesn’t stand out as much.”

“Uh thank you, but why do I think there’s more to this,” he narrowed his eyes at them.

“I don’t know when your birthday is, so I figured I’d use the anniversary of us meeting to celebrate you surviving another year,” they shrugged.

“You know, today is actually my birthday,” he said. He kept his mask up, but he was incredibly touched. No one had gone out of their way for him like this in a long, long time.

“I don’t buy that for a second.”

“I taught you well,” he laughed.

Dogmeat (From Soles perspective): Sole picked up the leftover brahmin meat, and put it in a bowl. It was the good stuff. Stuff that cost a lot that they hardly ever got to have. They placed the bowl in front of a very excited Dogmeat. They had never seen such a happy dog.

“Happy birthday, buddy.”

“Is it really his birthday?” MacCready asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I have no idea. Today’s just the day I found him. Rather celebrate that than think about the War.”

“Right, well I think celebrating his birthday is a great alternative,” he laughed.

#fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #fallout 4 companions #companions react #fo4 companions #cait fallout 4 #cait fo4 #codsworth #curie fo4 #curie fallout 4 #paladin danse #deacon fo4 #deacon fallout 4 #dogmeat

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dad-victoriam · 4 years

Text

I have one official character each for Fallout 3 and New Vegas, but In Fallout 4, I have like, three. Two Minutemen Generals and a Railroad Agent. Can you tell which play-through I started while bored and stuck in quarantine?

Lupe Campbell

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Hair Color: Dark Brown

Eye Color: Pale Blue

Sexuality: Bisexual

Nicknames: General, Madam President, Ma, Lulu

Preferred Weapon: Custom Laser Rifle

Faction: Commonwealth Minutemen

Best Friend: Nick Valentine

Love Interest: Preston Garvey

Has never done anything wrong in her life ever.

Preston knows this, and he loves her.

They have Team Mom and Team Dad Energy.

Sturges says they’re gross about it, but one time they got in a fight and he nearly cried because he though they were going to break up.

Is freakishly strong and constantly concerns and astounds people watching her carry and lift things.

Once physically lifted Hancock up over her head and carried him to the time-out corner when he was antagonizing Danse.

He lives in constant fear of being manhandled again.

Her karma is so pristine it’s practically blinding.

Loves helping Nick on cases, always looks for an excuse to wear the trench coat and fedora.

Has unique sense of fashion, thinks the Minutemen General Cosplay is high couture, only wears high-waist Mom Jeans.

Had joined up with the Brotherhood for a little bit, but after Danse got kicked out she left.

Actually, what happened was she stormed into Maxon’s office, lectured him in a way only a mom could, told him she wasn’t mad, just disappointed and then left the Prydwen and hasn’t returned since.

Maxon locked himself in his quarters afterwards to brood, not to cry, he definitely didn’t cry.

(He cried a little bit)

Danse joined the Minutemen after that. It was like the Brotherhood, but they were as loyal to him as he was to them. It really helped him cope and renewed his sense of purpose.

Lupe and Preston are proud of him.

Everyone jokes that he’s like their son behind their backs. Hancock got caught once (see above mentioned physical lifitng).

Her Mom Energy is so potent that legit most of the companions and even some of the Minutemen and Sanctuary settelers gave her the nickname ‘Ma’

Does not drink, does not smoke, what does she do?

She delivers Justice.

Fox Hawthorne

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/ Her

Hair Color: Ginger

Eye Color: Green

Sexuality: Lesbian

Nicknames: Whisper (Deacon) Renarde (Curie)

Preferred Weapon: Silenced Sniper Rifle

Faction: The Railroad

Best Friend: MacCready

Love Interest: Curie

Closeted Pre-War, had a family to please her mother, actually pretty sad, doesn’t like talking about it except where Shaun is concerned.

“Fox” is not her real name but she refuses to tell anyone what it really is and there’s no way for them to ever find out for sure.

Deacon once snuck down to the vault to see if it was on record somewhere only to find out she was one step ahead of him.

She hacked the records and wherever her true name had been was replaced with a string of emojis.

🦊🍑👅🖕🏻

Codsworth is programmed to call her “Miss Fox” and does not understand the fact that she has another name so he’s no help either.

She can NOT stand staying in Sanctuary (too many memories) and renovated the Red Rocket station nearby to keep her stuff in.

A settlement formed around it and they’re pretty friendly with their Minutemen neighbors even though Preston is constantly trying to get Fox to join the cause.

She will not, she thinks the outfits are tacky, but secretly still goes out of her way to help settlements.

Curie loves it when she does that.

Her relationship with MacCready is summed up by ‘Pure of Heart, Dumb of Ass / Lesbian’.

Do Not Separate Them.

They platonically raise Shaun and Duncan together.

“This is our dad, and this is our mom, and this is our mom’s girlfriend, Curie.”

Two Snipers Out In The Commonwealth Doing Sniper Things.

He literally pouts every time Fox leaves him at Red Rocket to do Railroad Missions with Deacon.

Curie keeps him company, they get along stupendously.

Other than Railroad Missions, or Settlement Rescue Mission Dates with Curie, Fox and MacCready are joined at the hip and are off doing dumb shit.

Always return to Red Rocket with broken noses, dislocated shoulders, cuts, bumps, and bruises and Curie has to patch them up.

Fox claims her kisses have healing properties.

She’s flirting, but Curie thinks she’s serious and has offered to kiss MacCready’s wounds as well.

He had to politely decline multiple times for fear of facing certain death via sandman kill.

The weirdest trio in the Commonwealth.

No one understands their dynamic.

It works because all three of them are the awkward third wheel of the friendship.

Gender: ???

Pronouns: They/Them

Hair Color: ???

Eye Color: ???

Sexuality: Pansexual

Nicknames: Commonwealth Cryptid

Preferred Weapon: Molotov Cocktail

Faction: Commonwealth Minutemen

Best Friend: Dogmeat

Love Interest: Hancock

Has good intentions, but bad methods.

Takes their title as General of the Minutemen very seriously.

Makes sure every settlement has enough food, water, and defense.

Spends hours decorating and making them look nice.

Could have a promising future (or past?) in architecture and interior design.

Intelligence stat is either 1 or 10, no one knows.

All their strategies are chaotic and crackpot but like; they work???

Chooses the Sarcastic response 100% of the time.

Low-Key devout member of the Children of Atom.

Wears assault gas mask and only ever takes off the mask when they’re furious and deadly serious, or you know, when they’re going to sleep.

Legitimately no one, not even the companions, knows what they look like, or even if they’re human or not.

Hancock knows, because he’s seen them naked, but refuses to tell anyone because he lives for the chaos and will constantly make up fake shit just to fuck with the rest of the group.

Hancock is the only living individual who knows what their face looks like.

Piper tried to see if Shaun knew anything and was like, “are you not even a little curious?”

The kid just shrugged, and like, messed around with a Laser Sniper Rifle he was making and was like “they’re my parent. That’s just how they are. I like them the way they are”.

MacCready swears up and down that he saw them turn their head 180 degrees like an owl one time.

Hancock backed him up, but he was huffing jet and laughing his ass off the whole time so no one knows if he was serious.

Gives “let’s get this freak show on the road” a whole new connotation.

Can only shop at Diamond City Surplus at night because Crazy Myrna refuses to sell to them.

She thinks they’re a synth and will not take “No, I’m Jangles the Moon Monkey” as an answer.

Definitely did blow up the Prydwen.

Stole Maxon’s jacket.

Has the Cannibalism perk.

It’s just practical, there are lots of dead bodies everywhere and food is scarce. If they eat a raider, then somehow, somewhere, there’s a Fancy Lad Snack Cake left for a starving orphan to eat.

No one else seems to see it this way.

Loves Brahmin.

I mean, really loves them.

Will stop whatever they’re doing to pet one if they see one.

If they’re working as part of a caravan, they’ll call them Ma’am and apologize for disrupting their work, but will still pet them.

Caravan Guards who see this behavior: ?????

Maxed Stealth and Pickpocket perks

Is a Little Sneak Thief

All their armor has Chameleon Legendary effects.

This stresses everyone out because that means they can be anywhere at any time and oh my God, where are they? I know they’re in here with me, where are they???

Once snuck up on MacCready (accidentally) and pulled an actual full swear word out of the guy. It was loud.

And it was the Fuck word.

It’s Bo’s proudest achievement.

Was totally on board with being the Overboss of Nukaworld until Gage suggested raiding Commonwealth Settlements.

They take their title as General of the Minutemen very very seriously.

They took off the mask, and all of Nukaworld saw their face that day. T’was brutal.

I’m talking “Rip and tear until it is done”.

I’m talking heavy metal theme music and everything.

It’s a nice and peaceful little trader settlement now. Bo planted flowers everywhere.

So, did you guess which one I started cuz I was bored in quarantine, yet? Did you guess all three? You would be correct.

#i have no explanation #fallout #fallout 4 #fallout 3 #fallout new vegas #fallout oc #incorrect fallout #preston garvey #fallout hancock #fallout maccready #fallout curie #fallout deacon #dogmeat #nick valentine

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siribear · 3 years

Text

scribe faris’s holotape points to the edge of her satellite map and almost a week’s journey northward. an old bunker, barely visible in the green and grey of the map. to brandis, the last member of the squad. whisper hopes they find him alive. not for herself and her power armor, but for danse.

she doesn’t want brandis to be another cutler.

before they leave the satellite array, they recover faris’s unused ammo, another bag of med-x, and the distress pulser. danse pockets faris’s holotags, where they rattle against the others. whisper spots a power armor frame inside one of the other satellites, but danse informs her the limbs are so bent and warped that the frame is useless. dejected, she leaves it behind.

they set up camp hours later, though they haven’t made it far. with the damage done to his own power armor, danse is practically dragging it along. and whisper fares no better, herself. everything aches. her muscles, her bones, her soul. she only has danse in his power armor to steady her steps, but she’s afraid if she tugs too hard on one of the plates, it might just fall off.

so it’s a relief for both of them to find a cluster of dead trees to nestle into. whisper rests with her back against a tree and watches danse start their small campfire. she eats even slower than usual, every swallow an effort with her abused throat.

‘will she make it?’ whisper asks around a piece of jerky. danse, long since finished with his rations, tightens a plate in one of the legs.

he looks the armor up and down; even in the dark, she can tell the silhouette is off with pieces bent far out of shape. danse rises to his feet with a grunt. ‘the way to the bunker will be slower than i’d like, it’ll hold until we get back to the prydwen.’

‘can’t just dump the thing so we can hobble along by foot?’ she laughs softly at his incredulous stare. ‘i’m only kidding.’

‘this armor is my responsibility,’ he says, working on an arm. ‘the same goes for any of my weapons.’

‘and it would be irresponsible to leave them behind.’

‘or let them fall into the wrong hands,’ he finishes.

whisper looks to her own, stained with dirt and blood. ‘and your superiors had no problem with you handing over one of your weapons to me?’

‘i was questioned.’ slowly, he bends a plate almost back into shape. ‘but, ultimately, they trusted my judgement. and you’ve since proven yourself.’

whisper huffs. ‘thanks. hey,’ she coughs, talking finally catching up to her, and it hurts. ‘if i do get my own power armor, i have to know how to properly take care of it.’ she walks closer, picks up one of his tools, and says, ‘show me, please?’

shadows flicker across his face, making his expression unreadable. firelight burns in his eyes, and between them there is nothing but the crackling of their campfire until he gently takes the tool from her hand. ‘this one isn’t going to help us. here,’ he passes her a wrench. ‘when you get your armor, you’ll have to know which bolts keep what together - ’

according to her pip boy, it’s well after midnight when danse is satisfied with their work. his armor looks... not entirely fixed, but it’s better. the missiles hit closer than she thought, absorbing any damage that would have turned both of them to a pair of charred stains on the ground. though, with danse teaching her how to repair, whisper didn’t strip any screws or break anything else, so she counts it as a victory.

even danse seems impressed with her work. ‘you did well,’ he says, inspecting the suit.

‘don’t sound so surprised. you’re a good teacher.’

danse packs up his tools in silence before ordering her to get some rest, like she’s a member of his squad. tired as she is, she doesn’t argue, just lies down next to the fire across from danse and falls asleep. she doesn’t realize they didn’t work out a watch schedule until she wakes too many hours later.

‘over there.’ danse motions to a bunker to their left, its concrete entrance built into the hill. whisper checks her pipboy; surely they can’t be there already. danse only stops for a moment before continuing along the road.

‘that’s not - ?’

‘no. that’s listening post bravo,’ he explains. ‘my squad’s fallback point, if we were ever to lose the police station.’

whisper looks to him, but he keeps his eyes forward. ‘thank you.’

whisper scouts ahead at the sound of voices, leading them away from another encampment of super mutants along the bank of the river. danse could likely handle another fight against them, but whisper’s limbs still feel heavy and sore. south of the encampment they find a husband and wife tending crops in a greenhouse. though the class is cracked and stained, the crops are faring well. whisper makes a deal with the pair: for a handful of caps, she and danse stay the night while offering their protection; in addition, they leave seeds and produce with the next caravan to give to the family at county crossing in exchange for the minutemen clearing what they call breakheart banks where the super mutants reside.

thankfully, they agree to both, and whisper contacts the castle using the couple’s old radio. preston answers, but by the volume of the voices behind him, he’s not alone.

she gives him directions to the settlement, as well as to the super mutant encampment. ‘i’ll send out a squad right away, general.’ with a laugh, he adds, ‘i think penny is getting restless here.’

there’s the sound of something getting knocked over, then: ‘is that the general? hey. how’s your field trip goin’?’

whisper can’t help but smile. ‘spectacularly, thanks for asking.’

‘really,’ penny deadpans. ‘sound like you picked up smokin’ from me, hun.’

whisper leans back, addresses danse over her shoulder. ‘do i really sound that bad?’

he shrugs. ‘your throat hasn’t healed yet.’

penny cuts back in. ‘is that your partner, general?’ her voice pitches low, and whisper can hear the grin. ‘did he do that to you?’

‘penelope,’ she hisses, but penny’s laughing. ‘put preston back on, please.’

‘uh,’ preston coughs awkwardly. ‘sorry about that, general.’

whisper glances at danse, who’s conveniently looking everywhere but her. ‘it’s fine. i guess sometimes she needs to go for a walk or she gets antsy.’ behind preston, penny yells hey! ‘send her and a few others up through the city, check on the other settlements, then up here, okay? i’ll be back soon.’

‘yes, ma’am. it was good to hear from you.’

she signs off quickly after that and apologizes to danse. ‘i understand,’ he says, still barely looking at her, but with a hint of a smile.

‘okay, then.’ a voice calls them out to the living room. ‘let’s eat.’

two days later, their otherwise uneventful journey is interrupted by the sound of shouting and a single gunshot. whisper waits for danse to catch up before they continue forward. more yelling, another shot, then more sounds of struggle.

‘we’re close,’ whisper says quietly. ‘what if it’s brandis?’

danse nods and readies his weapon to advance, whisper right behind him.

‘hey, you, help me! he’s got a gun!’ a man shouts when they come into view. he’s dressed in a thick jacket, his blond hair tied back at the nape of his neck. his hands are raised above his head, legs shaking as he kneels on the ground, staring down the barrel of a gun.

on the other end? a man that could be the other’s twin. right down to the frayed edges of their similar jackets.

whisper jogs forward, deliverer tucked back into its holster. danse follows, his rifle at the ready. ‘what’s going on? what is this?’

‘he’s a synth!’ claims the one on his knees. ‘the institute sent him here to replace me. listen, i have kids, a wife. you have to help me.’

‘he’s the synth! he tried to kill me!’ says the other.

danse looks ready to fire on both of them, so whisper stops him, stepping between him and the armed man. ‘okay, let’s... you and me talk. danse, watch the other one.’ it takes a minute of coaxing, but she gets her man to lower his weapon and follow her a few feet away. danse doesn’t take his eyes off her, but his gun remains pointed at the kneeling man. ‘so, honestly, what’s happening here?’ when her copy doesn’t respond, she asks, ‘what’s your name?’

‘art,’ he says, finally. his eyes narrow. ‘you look familiar.’ then, as if he’s hit with the realization, his eyes widen and he looks back to the others. he grabs her by her shoulders, ignoring danse’s shouted warning. whisper does her best to wave him off. ‘i can trust you. i don’t know why, but i know i can trust you.’

‘you can trust me,’ she says slowly.

‘you work for the institute, right? that’s why.’ whisper’s breath catches. she nods, hoping it’s the right answer. ‘great.’ art releases her with a sigh of relief. ‘look, i’m sorry he caught me. guy was gone so long i thought he got eaten by a deathclaw, you know? please don’t report me to the coursers. i’ll take care of this - ‘

whisper grabs his arm when he reaches for his gun. ‘it’s fine. we’ll handle it. besides,’ she smiles at him. ‘we’ve both made a mistake.’

art raises an eyebrow. ‘what’s that?’

‘my teleporter broke. i need a way back into the institute without anyone knowing i ruined the tech.’

art frowns. ‘you have to go through a courser for that. they’re the ones that go in and out of the institute, right? now come on, help me waste this guy - ’

he barely has a chance to raise his gun again before danse blows a laser sized hole in the middle of his chest. whisper takes a step back as the body falls to the ground. find a courser. as easy as finding a scientist in the glowing sea.

the real art slumps over, forehead pressed to the dirt, repeating, ‘thank you, thank you, thank you.’ whisper helps him to his feet, hands him part of her rations, and tells him to go home.

danse takes one step forward, but whisper stops him with a hand against his breastplate. ‘what if he was the synth?’

she sighs. ‘he wasn’t. the other one was. you killed him.’

‘how do you know?’

‘he told me.’ danse stares. whisper toes the body. it looks so real. the only synths she’s used to are the robotic ones - because she hardly believes deacon is a synth, and she was told h2-22 was one - but there’s really no way to tell. the two men looked identical, sounded identical.

he pulls her away from the scene. ‘we were all told this story in the brotherhood,’ danse begins, forcing her to keep up to listen. ‘sixty years ago in diamond city, a man showed up at the bar. he was new to town but drank with the residents as he told tales from out west. later in the evening, he would murder those same residents without hesitation. without blinking.

‘the people of diamond city began to call it the broken mask incident. when they realized what, exactly, the institute was capable of. this is the organization you’re dealing with. one that creates these inhuman things that could snap at any moment.’

whisper doesn’t like it. not the implications, not when she saw h2 near in tears when she protected him. can’t imagine him pulling a gun on her for no reason, even after the railroad made him into someone else. ‘i suppose i can understand the commonwealth’s paranoia now. but at the end of the day, they’re still... people. they still have personalities.’

‘programmed personalities. they aren’t real.’

‘what if i were a synth?’ she asks, suddenly. ‘or what if it was haylen? rhys? would you say they aren’t real, and all the time you’ve spent with them wasn’t real either?’

‘they aren’t. you aren’t.’

‘how do you know?’

he shakes his head. ‘we aren’t talking about this. it’s irrelevant.’

whisper fights the urge to sigh. two hundred years into the future, with all the strange things she’s seen in just her short time here - she figured people would be more open minded. instead, the prejudices just... shifted. easier, when the differences go further than the color of someone’s skin. but she moves on, but not before she tells him, ‘i’d still trust you if you were a synth. it makes no difference to me.’

brandis is almost inconsolable when they find him. his laser rifle rattles in his hands as he points it at them, demanding to know who they are.

‘how did you get in here? who sent you?’

whisper looks to danse and nods. brandis’s rifle swings his way. ‘it’s me, paladin danse. don’t you recognize me?’

brandis shoulders slowly relax, pull back instead of hunched forward and ready to fire. he blinks. denial, then recognition. ‘why are you here?’

‘i was sent to the commonwealth on a recon mission, just like you.’

and almost lost his squad in the process, just like him. ‘how did you find me? i’ve... i’ve been alone.’ brandis’s voice breaks, ‘all alone. for so long.’ grey hair wild in places and matted in others, beard long and unkempt. even his flight suit is patchy, fraying at the seams. there’s a growl at the end that speaks of bitterness, abandonment. anger at himself.

‘your team left distress beacons behind. we followed them here, to you,’ whisper explains, calmly, like she’s soothing a cornered animal.

‘what happened... to them?’ his speech is stilted, like he still isn’t used to it.

danse passes her the holotags, and she holds them out for brandis. ‘i’m so sorry. we recovered their tags.’

brandis finally lowers his weapon, eyes set on the tags in the palm of her hand. ‘thank you.’ he leans the rifle against the pile of sandbags in between them. one by one, he takes each tag and holds it up to the light. ‘this means a lot to me.’ varham, astlin, faris. ‘i tried to go back for them, you know? but there was nothing i could do, alone. but i had hoped... maybe - ‘ he grips the tags in his fist with a sigh. ‘you’ve been through a lot to find me. i should-i should give you something - ‘

brandis turns and lays the holotags on a nearby table. whisper follows further into the bunker. crates are stacked on shelves; an open lid reveals odds and ends, scrap metal and plastic. another crate holds more old world tech, though mundane: a coffee maker, a hot plate, half of a microwave. tucked in the corner is his bed and a nightstand with a barely touched plate of food.

‘i’ve collected a lot over the years. if you see anything you want, take it,’ he says, digging out the hot plate. he tries to place it in her hands, but she pushes it back into his arms. ‘take it, please.’

‘come back with us. you’re still a member of the brotherhood, paladin,’ danse says, interrupting the one sided tug of war.

‘what?’ brandis tosses the hot plate back into the crate and it crashes against his other scraps. ‘no. no, i couldn’t, not after everything that’s happened.’ whisper carefully takes brandis’s hands into her own. brandis looks down at her, brow furrowed, eyes watery. ‘would they still take me?’

whisper doesn’t think he should go back to the brotherhood, but he can’t stay here. ‘they need you. and they’ll honor the memory of your team, but you should be the one to tell their story.’ she releases his hands to step back. ‘it’s your decision, paladin.’

he hangs his head. ‘everything we went through... it’ll be forgotten. i can’t let that happen.’ he squares his shoulders. ‘i’ll do it. for them. i’ll start getting my things together.’

‘we’ll leave when you’re ready, paladin.’ danse gestures for her to follow him. ‘uh, we’ll be right outside.’

‘thank you. truly, thank you.’

outside, danse waits for her far enough away to be out of brandis’s earshot. ‘i’m surprised.’

it surprises a laugh out of her. ‘why?’

‘i didn’t expect you to convince him to return to the brotherhood.’

she shrugs. ‘he couldn’t stay here by himself any longer, but he has nowhere else to go. will the brotherhood really take him back?’

‘he’ll be under observation until he’s fit for duty again. the experience he has with the commonwealth makes him an asset. we can’t turn him away.’

‘as long as he gets the help he needs.’

danse nods. ‘of course. we don’t abandon our own.’

#siri drabbles #series: we will all go together when we go #oc: alice ward

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g0thiclem0nade · 3 years

Text

Sole Survior- Shane Thomas Greene

Role: Sole Survior / Brotherhood of Steel east coast high elder

Date of birth: January 20th 2029 (Pisces)

Gender: Cis man

Sexual orientation: Gay

Goes by: Elder Greene, Mister Greene, Dad, Grandpa

Height: 6’1

Hair color: whitening black

Eye color: light cerulean blue

Body: heavy set

Handedness: left

Weaknesses/flaws: arthritis in knees and left hand, suffers from chronic migraines, depressive episodes, prone to fainting.

Abilities/skills: extensive knowledge on prewar military technology, cooking, public speaking, hand to hand combat, particularly strong and has a fairly good back despite everything else.

Personality: warm, fatherly, usually the middleman, good talker, usually honest and dependable.

Other info: doesn’t like body hair on him, regrets letting his parents control his life prewar, ran a restaurant prewar.

Weapons: Shane’s Blade: a costum made combat knife gifted to him by his best friend before the war. Laser rifle: a standard issue brotherhood laser rifle

Armor/clothing: Shane’s Elder Power armor: a customized X-60 power armor, painted green with Greene’s brotherhood of steel insignia on each shoulder. Shane’s Elder uniform: a navy blue prewar military outfit, gold buttons and two pockets on the shirt and pants, combat boots and a band on his left arm with his name and the BoS insignia, this is similar to the one that Roger wore, Occasionally will be fitted with a wrist brace or knee braces. Shane’s casual wear: vault 111 suit and a black wool trench coat. He also tends to wear a red plaid flannel (this is worn by his kids or Danse when he’s out working), white T and blue jeans

Family:

Thomas Greene: father- deceased

Courtney Greene: mother- deceased

Robin Maxson: sister- deceased

Roger maxson: best friend/brother-in-law- deceased

JR Maxson: nephew- deceased

Elaine Fields: first wife- deceased

Nathaniel Greene: son-deceased

Nora Ansong: second wife- deceased

Shaun Greene (proper): son- deceased

Shaun Greene (synth): son- alive

Danse Greene: partner- alive

Connor Greene: adoptive son- alive

Kinuko Greene: adoptive daughter- alive

Morri Greene: adoptive son- alive

Arthur Maxson: relative/foster son- alive

#finally got around to really doing this #fallout #fallout 4 #fallout fandom #fallout oc #fallout sole survivor #sole survivor #drawing #my art #Shane Greene #ref sheet #reference #procreate #fan fiction #fallout fanfic #fallout community

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eeveevie · 4 years

Text

distractions

Deacon wakes up injured and confused after the Institute attack on the Castle. Good thing Madelyn is there to care for him, in more ways than one.

A/N: @gingerbreton prompted from this list and I... got very, very carried away. Merged it with an idea I had for another lingering prompt/idea. Obviously there is sexual content here. Yay!

Deacon x Madelyn Hardy (Agent Charmer)

4150 words (Under a cut for length and naughty-naughty) | Ao3

Deacon was an idiot.

But he knew that already. Had known that for years, not like it was a startling revelation that needed to come to him upon first waking up. And yet, that was the first clear thought he had when he regained consciousness—that he was a bona fide idiot.

Okay brain, but why?

He figured the best, first thing to do was to open his eyes and move but curiously, his limbs felt heavy and there was a lingering, metallic taste on his tongue—had he been drugged? Wouldn’t be the first time. His chest tightened in fear momentarily, thinking of Charmer and her safety. If he was indisposed, where was she? He groaned, trying to shift against the dull ache that radiated through his body, keeping him frozen.

“Oh no you don’t,” Charmer’s exasperated voice echoed nearby, close enough that whatever imagined worry had begun to stir in his mind instantly dissipated.

He fluttered open his eyes, wincing at the overhanging light. It was dim, but still too damn bright, especially without his shades. Instead, he glanced to look at her as she sat down on the edge of the bed he occupied. He wasn’t sure what he was protesting, but he wanted to speak, so he did. “Hmm yes I do.”

Charmer gave him an uncharacteristically stern look, one that brought back his earlier panic, or at least some concern. “Do you even remember what happened?” she asked in a whisper, and his heart stilled at the misty look in her eyes—she had been crying.

He awkwardly cleared his throat, grimacing at the pain created from his movements. “No?”

“Right. Okay,” she sighed, shifting so she could occupy more of the mattress, be closer to him. She leaned over, fluffing up the pillows under his head and shoulders, helping so he could sit up just a little, the blanket falling just enough for him to notice the mass of bandages covering various parts of his naked torso. Well—that explained a lot.

Charmer’s touch lingered along his shoulders, frown persistent as she continued to speak. “We were in the area when the distress call came over the Minutemen radio, barely made it to the Castle in time when Coursers and Gen-1 synths started relaying in.”

Bits and pieces of Deacon’s memory started to fall back into place, but it all seemed so hazy, like a wayward dream. Maybe he had a concussion, or whatever pain meds he’d likely been pumped full of had dulled everything away. He briefly remembered taking pop-shots from the Castle walls with some Minutemen, all while keeping a careful eye on their General in the courtyard below. She had stuck close to Preston near the radio tower, a goddamned force of nature with her laser rifle, firing in all directions. But the Institute’s teleportation relay gave the synths a clear advantage in the field.

“You pushed me and Preston out of the way of a grenade blast, shielded me from a Courser’s shot,” she hushed, tears threatening to spill over once again. It took a considerable amount of effort for him to lift one of his hands to rest on her waist, gripping the fabric of her faded green dress. “God, Deacon, there was so much blood, we—I—thought you were going to die right there in the middle of the fort.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat, unsure of what to say, or if he should say anything at all. “That bad?”

“Yes,” her voice broke harshly, blue eyes wild as she gazed at him, one of her hands quick to wipe at the tears falling down her cheeks. Deacon cursed the fact he couldn’t lift his injured arm fast enough to perform the task himself. “Most of the blood came from a flesh wound on your thigh, probably shrapnel from the grenade. We had to stitch you up, so you’ll have a decent scar.”

“You have another shrapnel wound on your hip, but it’s mostly superficial, it’ll heal faster than everything else,” she continued in a sober tone. Her hand drifted to rest cautiously on his bandaged right side. “Energy blast from that Courser. Thank God for Ballistic Weave or you’d have a gaping wound straight to your ribcage and guts,” she recoiled, blanched at the very mention. “More likely a pile of goo in the cornfield.”

“Don’t let Tinker Tom know you compared him to God,” Deacon breathed a joke, trying to cut the tension, biting his tongue when it didn’t land. He thought maybe he should’ve gone with ‘goo being better fertilizer’ but decided he’d rather not ruin the moment with a crude joke about his near-death. Charmer flashed a sympathetic expression, her fingers ghosting across the thick padding of gauze wrapped around his right shoulder.

“Through and through from a stray bullet. Ricochet in all the gunfire maybe, most likely friendly fire,” she explained, devastated to admit it. “Your shooting arm.”

Deacon hardly cared—he was alive, he would heal in time. If he never shot a rifle or a gun again, so be it. He still had all his appendages (that he was aware of—he really needed to lift the blanket to double check), and if his sense of humor was already back on the clock, well then—he was sure to be fine. Charmer was there, also alive, with no major injuries save for a few scrapes and bruises. They had survived, the Minutemen had survived, and the Institute were knocked down another peg. For some reason, it hardly felt like a victory.

“I’m sorry,” he exhaled.

“What?” she questioned, clearly surprised by his apology. He wasn’t always one to admit fault, unless he had royally fucked up. “Why?”

Deacon nodded, squeezing at her hip, all he could do to show some kind of comforting touch. “If I stayed where I was supposed to, where you needed me, this wouldn’t’ve happened.”

“You’re an idiot,” she sighed after a long pause. There it was—at least she finally offered the slightest glimmer of a smile, letting him know she wasn’t truly admonishing him. “Brave and resilient in the face of danger, but still—an idiot.”

He managed the best grin he could. “Your idiot,” he paused, wiggling his fingers along her waistline. “Do brave and resilient idiots get rewarded with fancy Minutemen medals or can I negotiate for something…else?”

“Deacon.” Now she was scolding him, even if she was smiling at his antics. She pushed at his chest, distancing herself. “You nearly die and all you can think about is sex?”

“I didn’t necessarily ask for that,” he replied with a smirk. “But now that you mention it.”

Charmer leaned closer again, eying him carefully before placing a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. She lingered, kissing him a few more times—delicately—like he could break at any moment. When she broke away, she brushed her nose against his. “All you’ll be getting is some more pain meds and a good night’s sleep.”

Deacon, stubbornly, thought otherwise. Her kisses were another stark reminder of life—sweet and gentle—and he wanted more. Much more. Perhaps too urgently, he tugged her closer, kissing her with more fervor, resisting the urge to grin when she eased against him, returning his kisses eagerly. It was so very easy to get lost in her, so he did—just focused on her lips, on her tongue, on her soft hand resting against his chest. He felt lightheaded, unsure if it was from breathlessness or his injuries, but didn’t want to pull away, not when she tasted so damn wonderful.

And then, something sharp jabbed into his arm, causing him to flinch. “Ow, ow, ow—needle!”

Charmer breathed a laugh, despite his painful reaction and he watched as she finished injecting the Med-X syringe she had snuck by while he was distracted by her mouth. He was a sucker for sure, but almost immediately he could feel the medicine doing its intended job, alleviating the pain he hadn’t realized was pulsing through him. He sunk back into the pillows, staring up at her as she offered a guilty expression.

“No fair.”

“You can thank me in the morning,” she insisted, moving to adjust him so he was lying flat, tucking the blanket back into place.

Before Deacon allowed himself to fully succumb to the darkness of sleep, he slowly blinked up at Charmer, and hoped his smile didn’t look too ridiculous. “Love you.”

She didn’t say anything in return, only smiled and brushed those soft fingers across his temple, down his cheek before sliding across to his nose in a gentle tap. He knew what it meant.

-x-x-x-

The next time Deacon woke up, the room was completely dark, save for the soft glow of Charmer’s Pip-Boy resting on the bedside table. Knowing his full catalogue of injuries, he felt considerably weirder—the aches and pain had subsided, but there was still a humming static in his bones that no amount of Med-X or Stimpaks could relieve. His lips and throat were also dry, but that was nothing a glass of water couldn’t fix. His brain still couldn’t digest what had occurred—maybe he had a concussion too, causing his denial. Some part of that squishy lobe in his skull wanted to believe that he’d wake up and none of this would’ve happened, that he and Charmer would still be surveying the coastline, cracking jokes about big boats.

Instead, he needed to face reality. He was at the Minutemen’s Castle, in the General’s private quarters, a little worse for wear, sure, but alive. Deacon stared up at the speckled ceiling, quietly thanking whatever guardian angel or saved up good karma had helped him out this time. In spite of his penchant for danger, he wasn’t quite ready to leave this retched Wasteland, not when he found a second chance with Charmer.

All he wanted was to desperately kiss her right then. Kiss her over and over until he couldn’t feel anything but her, drowning in her love and affection. Of course he wanted more—his dreams had brought some form of her to him in an attempt to satisfy the need, but it wasn’t the same, and only left him craving the real thing. Oh, and with a morning stiff. At least things below the waist were in a working order. Deacon awkwardly reached to adjust himself, softly groaning at his own sensitivity. Briefly, he considered continuing with his own ministrations when he realized he wasn’t alone.

He turned his head, further adjusting his eyes find Charmer asleep, curled up on her side and facing him on what little space remained in the bed. At first he didn’t dare to move, not wanting to wake her so easily, knowing it was a real possibility. With her it was always hard to tell just how far away in dreamland she was. A voice in his head finally encouraged him to turn, slowly (and somewhat struggling) rolling onto his less-injured side so he could face her.

She looked so different in the low light—face clean of her usual makeup, soft blonde hair tousled but clearly recently cleaned from whatever blood and debris she had collected from the firefight on the Castle grounds. She had a small, healing cut on her temple, another below her chin. Deacon frowned, hating that her beautiful face had even been scratched in the slightest way. Hesitantly he reached out, resting his hand along her waist and the soft cotton of her dress. Charmer didn’t wake up, instead she seemed to lean into his touch, encouraging him to inch closer. He ran his hand up and down her side in slow swipes, curling around to run softer patterns along her spine before passing over her hip for a gentle squeeze.

Charmer let out a soft sigh, her hand reflexively reaching out for his chest. Only then did her eyes flutter open, but she didn’t seem overly surprised to find him so close. “Hmm…Dee,” she greeted, suppressing a yawn. “Are you okay?”

A loaded question, all things considered. Deacon didn’t respond at first, needing to quash the overwhelming sensation at the forefront of his mind and captured her lips in a needy kiss, gripping his hand along her side to pull her even closer to his body. Thankfully, she didn’t move away, but did tilt her chin for a sharp inhale of breath, breaking the kiss. He took the opportunity to nuzzle her brow, inhaling the sweet scent of whatever she had used to bathe.

“Clearly I’m feeling a little better,” he finally responded.

Charmer’s thigh shifted, and he couldn’t tell if it was deliberate or not until she spoke, the warmth of her leg pressing against his growing erection. “That’s not little,” she breathed, still unable to tell if she was teasing, or fully responsive to his state.

They’d been there before—not necessarily in that exact scenario—but they’d gotten each other worked up only for nothing to happen on more than one occasion. Deacon was silently hoping this wasn’t one of them. Instead of cracking a joke, he zeroed in on her lips again, relishing in the quiet little noises he coaxed from her as his hands continued to roam. It was all too slow for what his brain was demanding, and foolishly, he tried to roll his body atop hers, underestimating the effort it would take to support his weakened limbs. Charmer shifted at the last moment to avoid being crushed as he practically collapsed back onto the mattress with a defeated groan, closing his eyes tight in a lame attempt to block out the pain.

“Maybe we should stick to sleeping until you’ve healed,” she softly laughed, leaning up on her elbow to peer down at him.

Deacon huffed, glancing at her. “If you’re going to mock me, please just take me out back and end my suffering.”

Charmer regarded him with a tiny smile, her hand resting along the side of his face, thumb gently caressing his cheek. To his surprise, she closed the distance between them, her lips gentle when she placed them over his. “Lay still,” she instructed in a soft whisper, barely braking away.

Deacon didn’t dare to disobey once he noted the mischievous hint in her eyes. Her lips trailed across his chin and jawline, the softest giggles fanning across his skin as she mumbled something about his ticklish stubble. Her kisses continued along the line of his throat, up and down before focusing on a spot below his ear, causing him to groan when she gave the tiniest of bites.

“Frisky,” he breathed, gripping her waist a little tighter, encouraging her to shift to straddle his uninjured thigh. Charmer chuckled against his ear but must’ve decided her actions spoke louder than any witty response she could respond with, trailing her tongue and teeth down to his collarbone—now he’d just have more markings in the morning. Good. He’d wear and show them off proudly.

Meanwhile, Deacon had continued running his hands along her sides and back, finding the task more and more difficult as she shifted lower down his body. Every time her leg brushed against his aching groin, he bit back a hiss, a moan—frustrated he couldn’t just flip her beneath him and rut like his mind was screaming out for. Then again, there was something agonizingly wonderful about this slow, calculated torture. Not everything between them had to be rushed, especially if she was taking the lead.

Charmer’s fingers were soft and warm against his chest as she explored his skin, wary of his bandages but firm against the lean muscles he knew she loved. Wherever her hands touched, her mouth followed, smooth and whispered kisses that zigzagged left-to-right, never lingering in one spot for too long. Soon enough she had adjusted so she was at his waistline, trailing along the hemline of his underwear.

She breathed a laugh as she pressed a series of kisses from his bellybutton to his bruised hipbone. “Are you sure you don’t want a medal?”

“How shiny is it?”

Deacon lifted his head, as painful as it was to crane his neck, to watch her movements as she removed his only item of clothing, careful not to disturb his bandaged thigh as she shimmied them down his legs. Charmer settled back down across his uninjured side, and she glanced up at him through her long lashes, eyes shining even in the darkness. The moan that left him when she gripped him was loud, even if her touch was feather-soft at first.

She resumed her kisses along his skin as she pumped him—slowly at first, as if she knew that any faster and he wouldn’t last long. Something about the setting, or the pain meds in his system, or maybe the adrenaline of surviving an Institute raid—who knew? He was already on edge. Deacon shut his eyes and slammed his head against the pillows, resisting the urge not to jerk up into her hand.

“Nuh-uh,” she argued, her free hand sliding up across his chest. “You should enjoy the show.”

Jesus fucking Christ—Deacon snapped open his eyes, tilting his chin so he could look at her just as she maneuvered to run her tongue along the base of his cock, fierce blue eyes meeting his as she licked up to the tip, only pausing to smile before wrapping her sweet lips around him completely. If he had been loud before, he was sure he had just woken up the entire Castle with his sounds of pleasure, unable to hold back as Charmer took him further into the heat of her mouth. Her warm tongue swirled around his crown while her fingers gripped tightly onto the base where her lips couldn’t reach—just unbelievably delightful.

Deacon strained to reach though the aches in his body down to her, combing his fingers through her hair as her head slowly bobbed, lips gradually tightening to tease him closer towards orgasm. Though, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted that—all of this was fucking spectacular, but what he really, truly wanted was to chase that end with her. With his other hand he gripped her fingers splayed across his chest, lacing them and pressing them against his rapidly beating heart.

“Charm—”

Her mouth fell from him with a resounding pop. “After all that bedside care, you’d think I’d at least get a Mads.” She spoke her other nickname in a throaty sigh, teasing him. All the while her hand never stopped pumping, slow and deliberate as she nipped the skin of his inner thigh.

Deacon swallowed the hard lump in his throat—if he wasn’t already buck fucking naked with his lover’s hand around his cock, he would’ve blushed. Give it up to Charmer to call him out in the middle of a stellar blowjob for not using her given name. The rational part of his brain tried to remind himself that he liked to use it only under special circumstances, but what was more special than making love?

God he loved this woman. “Come here.”

Charmer hesitated to move, but he silently encouraged her, moving his hands along her body so she was perfectly situated, straddling his waist—right where he wanted her. She lowered herself across his chest, giving herself a little space so she could study his face, eyes dancing across his features. One hand rested across his cheek, thumb brushing across the tip of his nose and lips.

“Deacon?”

“Madelyn,” he answered in a whisper against her skin, watching the sparkle in her eyes ignite into a flame. He shifted her down his body so she was resting along his hips, gripping her waistline tightly so he could roll upwards once, twice—show that he was still very much aroused. “I want you.”

“Oh?” She always liked to play coy.

Charmer circled her hips, allowing the length of him to drag along the clothed crux of her thighs. He lifted his head up so he could kiss her in earnest, swallowing her groans as he brought her even closer to him, driving the friction between them even higher. Finally he began lifting up her dress, breaking away from their kiss for the quick moment it took to toss it to the side to wherever she had discarded his underwear. She wasn’t wearing a bra, but Deacon was more focused on getting her panties off—Charmer was already one step ahead of him, carefully moving without breaking their kiss or bumping into one of his injuries so she could wiggle them down her legs. Within seconds she was back on top of him, arched across his chest as they panted between heated kisses.

He whispered her name again—her real name—as he trailed his hand from her waist to her core, teasing his fingers against her entrance, shuddering at the wetness he felt. She trembled at his touch, whining incoherently as she writhed atop him. Still, he probed a few fingers, grinning into their kiss as she broke away in a heady moan. Soon enough she was reaching down to bat his hand away, stroking at his length and aligning it where his fingers had just been. When she sank down, she kissed him hard, almost taking the breath from him. Charmer stayed close in those initial moments, steady drags of her hips against his in-between fevered kisses and heated touches.

Her breath was beautifully ragged. “You doin’ okay?”

Deacon laughed. Even if he was in pain, he wasn’t going to admit it now. “God yes.”

Charmer seemed heartened, gradually leaning back on her heels, resting her hands along his chest as she steadily picked up speed. He gripped her thigh, one hand trailing up along her waist to palm at a breast. Beneath her, he found that he was already losing rhythm with every thrust, clenching his teeth in a desperate attempt to focus—he wanted to last just a little bit longer, for her sake. This didn’t have to be perfect, but damnit, he wasn’t about to come early and leave her hanging, not when he was too injured to make love properly, the way he wanted to.

With a determined focus he met her every move, sliding his hand down to where they were joined to circle his thumb against her clit. That certainly seemed to do the trick, Charmer arching back in a symphony of sounds, movements interrupted as a wave of ecstasy washed over her. Her thighs tightened against his torso, quivering as she cried out, practically begging him to not stop. He wasn’t planning on it, not until she was an unmade puddle in his arms. Her hands clutched at his chest and shoulder and under her breath she muttered little curses between God and Deacon.

He could only grin.

Deacon pulled her tight against his chest as he noted her strength waning, kissing along the side of her face and neck as he pushed up from the mattress, holding her hips to his with every uneven movement. She clenched around him and he knew even without her hushing his name, a silent trigger for him to let go. Even so, he continued thrusting until his orgasm hit him like a derailed train, blinding him and seizing his limbs in a way that had him clutching Charmer to his body as he came, barely giving her enough space to move so that he could spill across his stomach rather than inside of her.

No need for any baby Deacons walking around, he thought. Not yet, anyways. A flittering thought made him wonder if Charmer—Madelyn—would even want to have a kid with someone like him. But that was a thought for later. Much later. Breathless, mind swirling, he blinked hard and glanced down at his lover. She was flashing him this sideways, satisfied smirk—a good sign, chest still heaving as she caught her breath. A moment passed and she reached behind them for a few washcloths, passing one off to him so he could clean himself of their coital activities.

“That was fun,” she commented with a smile. Deacon could feel a but coming. “You know, you really need to rest now. Heal up.”

He sighed, nodding as he relaxed against the bed and pillows. “Lucky for me, I have an excellent nurse,” he flashed her a wink. “Grade A bedside service. Can’t wait to see what the sponge baths are like.”

Charmer chuckled, bringing the previously discarded blanket with her as she settled against his side. He tucked her closer for a snuggle. “With care like that, we’ll split open your stitches.”

He shrugged. This time, he could feel sleep calling to him naturally, without the need of a medical syringe. “Worth it.”

😎 leave a kudos

#fallout 4 #deacon #deacon x f!solesurvivor #madelyn hardy #deacon x mads #otp: my hovercraft is full of eels #fanfic #insert captain holt screaming BONE #because there be boning here #f'n finally I have written these two gettin' busy #a little angst a little fluff and a whole lot of sexy

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returnn-of-the-mac · 5 years

Note

Mkay. Sole gets taken by the Institute (reason being Shaun is angry they don't want to be his successor, or somethin' like that) the companions are torn and upset (romanced and non for this if possible) but after a year or so, they have managed to escape, all battered and whatnot, and return to the companions, but aren't sure whether they want to stay, for the risk of coursers coming to take them back. How to they react? Still love ya!

This one was so sad, but I got really into it! I wasn’t sure if by “romanced and non” you meant all the companions or like romanced companions + reacts in they were not romanced. I just decided to do all & romanced. I tried writing the romanced companions as friends and then one as romanced, but the dialogue was pretty much the same give or take a few words. I found it kind of repetitive, so I hope you’re okay with how this one is. Also yeah most of the companions do a pretty shameful job at defending Sole. The last 5 (best for last; no spoilers the) are the only ones that actually almost saved Sole. Please enjoy! (Also Ada’s react’s formatting got messed up for some reason. Sorry about that!)

FO4 Companions React: Sole Being Abducted By Abusive Institute (Part 1)

Sole and their companion were on their way way to Quincy when the air suddenly felt heavy.

“Do you feel that?” [companion] whispered.

And uneasy Sole nodded and pulled out their weapon, looking around cautiously. Their companion did the same.

Suddenly, a blinding flash of blue appeared, and Sole felt something— or someone— roughly grab their arm and put a hand over their mouth. Sole caught a quick glance of the individual and identified them as an Institute Courser.

Sole desperately kicked and squirmed, trying to attack whoever had grabbed them, but their opponent was far too powerful.

Ada:

“Let [him/her] go!” Ada demanded, rapidly shooting lasers at the Courser, “You won’t get away.” The Courser pulled put his own weapon and fired at Ada, making her stagger. The synth used this opportunity to make his getaway. Ada quickly recovered and looked around, confused “[Sir/Ma’am]? Please say something. Are you alright?” The robot ran a scan to see if she could locate her missing friend, but she had no luck tracking them down. “I have determined that you are in the vicinity, but unfortunately I can not pinpoint your location. I’m sorry to have failed you, [sir/ma’am].”

Strong:

“LET HUMAN GO!” Strong bellowed, charging at the Courser at full speed, Super Sledge in hand.

The Courser, knowing he was a goner if Strong were to hit him, vanished instantly. Strong ran to the spot where his friend had been abducted.

“HEY! WHERE YOU GO? GIVE HUMAN BACK!” he bellowed, looking around. “Human? Where you go?” Strong continued to search around, but found no trace of Sole. “Now human missing. Strong never find milk. Strong only friend gone!”

In a fit of rage, Strong obliterated a nearby dumpster with his signature sledge. The super mutant then began his trek back to Trinity Tower, in hopes that his friend would some day return.

Deacon:

“What the—? Hey!” Deacon cried out, attempting to tackle the Courser that had snatched his friend.

Unfortunately, the abductor disappeared before Deacon could grab him, causing the Railroad agent to land on the ground with a loud thump. He quickly brushed himself off and looked around.

“[Name]? [Name]? Shit, they’re gone.” He searched around a little more before admitting defeat. “Why couldn’t I have helped them? Dammit. I hope where they are, they are okay.”

Deacon hiked back to the Old North Church, his missing friend on his mind, “I’ll see if Tom can track [him/her] down. I’m coming for you, pal.”

Nick

“Oh, no. not getting away that easily,” Nick threatened, pulling out a pistol and shooting at the Courser.

The Courser pulled out an Institute rifle and began to shoot back at Nick. The detective, fearing Sole would be injured in a crossfire, dropped his weapon.

“Can’t we discuss this like real men? You can’t expect me to just let you make off with one of my most beloved partners without a consolation or fight.”

The Courser blankly stared at Nick, and then vanished.

“Argh, no! I should’ve just shot the bastard,” the detective growled, clenching his fists, “Don’t worry, [name], I’ll find you.”

X6-88

“Why are you here?” X6 asked his fellow Courser.

“Father has asked me to retrieve [him/her].” He stated, glancing at Sole.

“I didn’t hear about this operation.”

“Because you’re not involved.”

“I will not stand by and let you take [name] without a proper explanation,” X6 stated firmly.

“Too bad,” the Courser taunted, roughly grabbing Sole’s arm, “Don’t even think of following, X6. You’ve been banished from the Institute.”

“Excuse me?”

With that, the Courser disappeared, taking Sole with him.

X6 stood in place, frozen by disbelief. “Why the hell was I banished? I’ve been nothing but loyal to Father and the Institute’s cause,” he quickly redirected his thoughts, “I have to get [name] back. They are not going to be playing nice with [him/her] over there.”

Longfellow:

“You’re not making a slick getaway punk. Not today,” Longfellow cried, pulling out a harpoon gun and aiming at the Courser, “Tally-ho!”

The old man fired his weapon, expecting a direct hit. The Courser disappeared as quickly as he showed up, and the powerful harpoon landed on the ground with a metallic crash. Longfellow rushed over to where the projectile had landed, finding no traces of blood or a body.

“Shit, missed the mark. Damn slimy Institute eels,” he cursed, picking up the harpoon. “Maybe the mariner will be able to track [name] down. Can’t hurt to start there.”

Codsworth:

“Who do you think you are,” Codsworth asked, “Let [him/her] go, sir!”

The Mr. Handy began firing at the Courser, but his shots didn’t seem to be having any sort of effect. With one swift movement, the Courser managed to whip out laser rifle and shoot an unsuspecting Codsworth in the eye. Codsworth crashed to the ground and the Courser disappeared.

“Ughh” Codsworth managed to get back up, in an extraordinary amount of pain from the cell. He ignored the pain and furiously glanced around.

“[Sir/Mum]? Hello?” Oh no…” it was then the robot realized that his companion was gone, “I-I’m so sorry I couldn’t defend you, [sir/mum]. I’ve failed.”

Piper♥

“Stop! What do you think you’re doing?” Piper yelled, whipping out her pistol. “Let [him/her] go! Or else!” The Courser scoffed at the reporter’s flimsy threat and teleported to the Institute. Piper lowered her weapon and looked around in disbelief. “Blue? Blue? [Name]? W-Where’d ya go?” Piper’s adrenaline kicked in as she slowly accepted that Sole had been abducted.

“No! Dammit!” She cursed, “I didn’t even put up a fight. I was totally useless!”

She clenched her teeth in frustration.

“I don’t know if you can actually hear me, Blue, wherever you are. But I promise I’ll find you. I love you so much, [name].”

Curie♥

“Please, don’t hurt [him/her],” Curie pleaded, “[He/She] didn’t do anything to deserve this.”

The Courser scoffed and immediately teleported away with Sole. Curie stood in place, shocked.

“[Madame/Monsieur] I…I’m so sorry I couldn’t defend you,” the synth wept, “I’ll find you, mon amour.”

Preston♥

“Why are you even here,” Preston asked, “Leave [name] alone. If you don’t, I’ll—“

The Courser suddenly whipped out a laser rifle and started firing at Preston.

“Argh!” Preston shielded himself before taking out his own pistol and firing at the synth, “Oh, no you don’t!”

Despite hitting the Courser multiple times in the arm and shoulder, it didn’t seem to have much of an impact. The synth proceeded to grab Sole and teleport back to the Institute.

“Damn!” Preston shouted, “I’ll get you back, babe. I’ll find you. You’ll be okay…”

MacCready♥

“Let [him/her] go,” MacCready demanded, “I won’t hesitate to put a bullet in your head.”

The Courser decided to test the ex-gunner by pulling out his own gun and shooting. An unsuspecting MacCready awkwardly dodged the bullets before regaining his composure. He pulled out his trusty sniper rifle, aimed, and fired. The size and velocity of the bullet was enough to blow a hole straight through the synths skull, killing him instantly.

MacCready froze for a moment in shock before refocusing. He swiftly grabbed Sole’s arm and began sprinting at full speed, practically dragging them to Quincy. It didn’t take long for them to see buildings in the horizon.

“There it is,” MacCready shouted, “We should find an abandoned house of something to hide out in. Maybe—“

Just then, six Coursers spawned in front of the duo.

“Crap,” MacCready muttered, noticing the Coursers charging toward himself and Sole. He looked around desperately, but he didn’t react fast enough. One Courser tackled MacCready while the other five swarmed Sole.

“[Name]!” MacCready cried, “Fight back!”

Before Sole could do anything, the Coursers teleported both themselves and Sole back to the Institute.

“[Name], I don’t know if you can actually hear me, but if you can: I’m not going to give up. I’ll find you and bring you back, beautiful.”

Hancock♥

“Afraid I can’t let you do that, punk,” Hancock threatened, pulling out a serrated combat knife and charging at the Courser. With swift and aggressive arm thrusts, Hancock pierced the Courser multiple times in the chest and gut, killing him almost instantly.

Hancock wiped the synth’s blood onto his jacket, grabbed Sole’s hand, and started running toward Quincy.

“Don’t worry, gorgeous. They’ve gotta get through me before they get to you,” the ghoul reassured, “And that ain’t happenin.”

After a few minutes of running, the pair saw the city line over the horizon. Suddenly, several blinding beams of light rained down from the sky and six Coursers appeared in front of them.

“Shit,” Hancock muttered, “Too many to take out with my knife. Time for plan B.”

Hancock reached into his jacket and removed a fragmentation grenade.

“Run,” he warned Sole.

Sole turned on their heels and began running in the opposite direction. Hancock chucked the grenade and sprinted after Sole.

Just before he caught up with them, another three beams of light appeared before Sole, completely surrounding them.

“Fuck,” the ghoul swore, “[Name]!”

Hancock saw the three Coursers tackle Sole, before a blinding light enveloped them.

“Fuck,” ghoul growled in despair, “I’ll get you, doll. Dontcha worry. I love you more than anything in the fuckin world.”

Gage♥

“You ain’t goin anywhere,” Gage threatened, equipping a furious powerfist, “You’re messin with the wrong gang,”

With that, the Raider lunged at the Courser , catching him off guard. Gage slung his powerful arm in a swift, upward motion, taking the Courser’s head clean off. The decapitated body flew backwards with incredible force, hitting the ground with a hard thud.

Gage sensed another Courser charging at him from the side. The Synth latched onto the Raider, attempt him to get into a headlock. An aggravated Gage flung his head backwards, delivering a sickening skull bash to the Courser behind him. The disoriented Courser wobbled backwards, an endless stream of blood gushing from his nose. Gage used this opportunity to deliver a blow to the Courser’s gut— the powerfist going right through him as if he were a piece of paper.

“C’mon boss!” Gage yelled, roughly grabbing Sole’s arm and running at full speed toward Quincy.

Just as the saw the city line, a blockade of six Coursers spawned.

“Shit,” Gage panicked, “I dunno if I can take em all at once.”

The Raider reached into his inventory and pulled out two Molotovs, throwing one at each direction. The burning Coursers, now injured and enraged, pulled out their laser rifles and started shooting at the pair.

“Argh, no chance. Go, go, fuckin move it!” Gage ordered, slinging Sole over his shoulder and booking it in the opposite direction. One of the Coursers managed to shoot Gage’s heel, sending him crashing to the ground. Five Coursers piled on top of him, rendering him useless, as the sixth Courser roughly grabbed Sole.

“Fuckin shit!” Gage shouted, “Boss! [Name]! Boo! I’m sorry!”

With that, Sole and the Coursers disappeared, leaving a battered and exhausted Gage sprawled in the grass.

“I’ll find ya, [name]. They ain’t slippin away that easily.”

Danse♥

Without a single word, Danse rushed into the Courser at full force, knocking him off his feet.

“Go!” Danse yelled at a shaken Sole, as they watched like a deer in headlights.

As Danse engaged in physical combat with the Courser, Sole ran towards Quincy.

Danse managed to get the Courser into a headlock, cracking his neck and killing him instantly. He sprinted to catch up with Sole.

“Right behind you,” he reassured, “Stay close to me; there are undoubtedly more where that came from.”

As if on cue, six Coursers appeared in front of them.

“Cowardly bastards had to send a whole squad after us,” Danse clenched his teeth, “Soldier, do you still have those Vertibird signals?”

Sole looked visibly upset at the suggestion, and Danse sighed.

“I know they’re going to try killing me too,” he explained, “But that’s a risk I’m willing to take. I can’t lose you. You mean too much to me.”

Sole’s eyes welled as they reluctantly handed their companion the signals. Danse promptly threw them at the Coursers and as if on cue, the thunderous sound of choppers filled the air Once the Vertibird flew overhead and spotted the Coursers and Danse, a storm of bullets cascaded on the group.

“[Name]! Get into the Vertibird,” Danse ordered, shielding himself from the bullets and debris.

Sole hesitated.

“Go, dammit!” He demanded harshly. He immediately noticed his tone and added softly, “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be alright. I…I love you.”

Sole sadly nodded and ran toward one of the Vertibird. As soon as they reached the vessel, a metallic hand reached out to them.

“Right this way, Paladin,” a Brotherhood Knight prompted. Before Sole could grab her hand, a Courser teleported in between them.

“[Name]!” Danse yelled.

The Courser grabbed Sole’s arm and teleported them to the Institute.

Danse clenched his fists in frustration. “I’ll find you, [name]. And I’ll kill every single goddamn synth that stands in my way.”

Cait♥

“Scram, ye sick bastard! Now!” Cait bellowed.

The redhead noticed the Courser reaching for his weapon and used the opportunity to rush him. She sprinted to the Courser and punched him the jaw. He staggered a bit, and she delivered a powerful knee to the crotch. The Courser, now bleeding from his mouth, doubled over in pain. From out of nowhere, a second Courser charged at Cait from the side.

“I don’t think so!” She shouted, dodging the other Courser and pulling out her barbed baseball bat. She swung, ripping a chunk of skin from the synths face and sending him to the ground.

She used this opportunity to grab Sole’s hand, “Let’s go, love!” Sole and Cait darted past the Courser, towards Quincy. The two made it to the edge of town when suddenly three more bright blue beams appeared in front of them.

“Shite…” Cait mumbled, “Other direction, darlin!”

Sole and Cait turned around and three additional beams appeared.

“Damn, we’re surrounded.”

Six Coursers charged at the pair— one of them grabbing Sole and teleporting to the Institute, the others worked on restraining a furious Cait, who was still attempting to fight.

“I’ll getcha back, love! Don’t ye worry! I’ll kick each and every one of their Institute arses!”

#fallout 4 #fallout #fo4 #danse #paladin danse #hancock #deacon #maccready #piper #curie #cait #nick valentine #preston garvey #strong #x6 #x6 88 #gage #porter gage #ada #codsworth #longfellow #react

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thanksjro · 4 years

Text

The Transformers #26- Chaos Part 2: A for Effort, Trailbreaker

Issue #25 isn’t relevant, either to this project or to the Chaos storyline. Prowl investigates Scrapper’s murder, and things get messy in terms of connecting the dots, he’s attacked, it’s all very dramatic, we get that one panel where Prowl ruins a man’s barbecue.

Let’s move on, shall we?

The entire Chaos storyline is co-authored by Roberts and Costa, so I won’t be mentioning it further. It’s not like this is an especially long storyline anyway.

Getting back to where we left off, that big nasty Kimia laser is coming down, but it’s not targeting the Autobots. It’s hitting another part of the planet, and Optimus thinks it’s high time they found out just what’s going on here. He orders Silverbolt to follow the laser, and the entirety of their aerial division shoots up into the sky, including Cosmos. I guess all these guys have been here this whole time. News to me, but okay.

Sunstreaker and Drift get put in charge of finding a base of operations, while Cliffjumper gets paired off with Wheelie for a scouting mission. Once they’re done unloading all the crap they packed in Omega Supreme, Rodimus will fly him back up into orbit to try and deal with the threat in the air while everyone else is on the ground.

Trailbreaker, you do one fucking thing. What is this confusion about your role in any of this?

Rodimus and Trailbreaker get up into orbit without much fuss, guiding the aerial team.

Yeah, I could see them needing some extra eyes here.

Down on the surface of the planet, Wheelie is dragging Cliffjumper around, much to his chagrin. Also Wheelie’s got a gun. I don’t know where he got the gun from, considering he’s been running around with nothing but a slingshot and a synth for the last several issues, but he’s got a fucking rifle now, and he’s pointing it straight at Galvatron. He misses, but not by much. Pretty impressive for a guy who’s not seen a gun in a few million years and went full Castaway.

Of course, with that shot, their cover is blown, and Galvatron sends his troops in the direction that the gunfire came from. Cliffjumper calls Optimus to tattle on Wheelie, and Optimus’ team heads their way.

Meanwhile, up in space, the aerial forces are making short work of the Sweeps. The hard part is going to be getting into Kimia so they can turn off that laser.

Speaking of Kimia, let’s check in on some of the guys who work there, why don’t we? Lightspeed and Nosecone take stock of their current situation, and it’s pretty darn grim, to put it lightly. They’re stuck in the same room as a power generator for the particle cannon, with only a few blasters and some experimental bomb nonsense between them. The room around them lights up, signaling the power-up sequence for the cannon. That’s no good!

Good thing Trailbreaker’s here! Surely his forcefield-creating abilities will save the day!

Oof. That’s rough, buddy.

The damage to the planet can be seen from space. Cybertron’s got maybe enough fortitude to take a couple more hits like that before it either crumbles or going hurtling off into deep space. Since they can’t contain the particle cannon blasts, they’re going to have to destroy Kimia.

Rodimus isn’t really a huge fan of this plan, seeing as there are probably still folks alive inside the facility, and he can’t stand to sacrifice others, even if it is for the greater good. Gee, I wonder why.

That was sarcasm, by the way. I know it does’t translate well in writing. The reaction we’re getting from Rodimus here is probably due to him having had to blow up his home town to keep his fellow citizens from being used as ammunition and batteries in weapons of mass destruction, so that others might live. That kind of thing tends to sit pretty heavy on one’s soul. We’ll see more of the complex that event gave him in MTMTE.

Back on Kimia, the cannon’s warming up for another shot, and communication breaks down, as Lightspeed and Nosecone pack on the explosive charges and get ready to blow Kimia up themselves, and Rodimus prepares to slam into the facility with Omega Supreme. Optimus just kind of sits back and listens to this whole thing go down. Kimia explodes, as everyone down on the planet watches in awe.

Ironhide, people are dead.

This pisses Galvatron off pretty severely, and he pulls Jhiaxus- yeah, he’s in this story, don’t worry about it- away for further nefariousness.

Rodimus lands/crashes Omega back onto the planet, with a wounded Trailbreaker. He asks where Optimus has gotten off to, and Sunstreaker tells him he and Ironhide fucked off somewhere, which causes Rodimus and Drift to share a look. And what a look it is.

Optimus is running around in his semi-truck mode, and apparently he and the Matrix are on speaking terms again, as he lets Ironhide know that he’s got a feeling in his jimmies that some serious stuff is about to go down, and the Matrix is going to be integral to things going in a way that’s beneficial to the Autobots.

Meanwhile, Megatron is attempting to figure out what the hell’s going on outside by talking to Omega Supreme, but Supreme just grayrocks him. We get a positively horrid view of Megatron’s chicklet teeth as he says he’s about to head out.

Now, you may be thinking, surely Megatron couldn’t escape from his full-body harness with the built in shock collar attachment, to which I say: He’s the main antagonist. Give it a minute.

Garnak is trying to keep Trailbreaker comfortable, chatting all the while, until Sunstreaker hears something he can’t seem to identify.

Good lord, they’re like spiders. Everything’s on fire, everything is trying to kill you, and there are giant-ass spiders. Cybertron is Space Australia.

Turns out these awful little things are cutting Megatron out of his bonds, as he laughs maniacally. Outside, Cliffjumper and Wheelie are getting shot at, like, a LOT. Cliffjumper is less calling and more begging and pleading for backup at this point. Help does come, but not from a source he’d like.

I guess the spiders snuck him a little protein powder while they were springing him loose.

#transformers #jro #the transformers 2009 #issue 26 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #story plotting

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atombombbagel · 5 years

Note

Companions carrying injured Sole to safety

HELLO! So like I said I’ve managed to actually finish a reaction and although it may not be the best, I’m rusty af. Also, anything over a thousand words is going to be under a keep reading thingy and that is only because I don’t want to clog up peoples dashboards. :) Hopefully it is good enough and ENJOY. :)

1 request down and about 144 to go.

Cait: “Find Cover!” Caityelled as a small hand grenade was tossed by the enemy in the direction of herand Sole. The grenade bounced off the ground a few times before coming to a halt,landing next to Sole’s feet. Sole only had a few seconds to react, swan divingto safety behind an old pile of sandbags. Small bits of debris and bits of rubbleflew into the air as the device exploded. Cait quickly shuffled to her feet, immediatelylooking around for Sole, who she found in a matter of seconds. She rushed totheir side.

“That looks nasty there Sole,”Cait commented as she looked at Sole’s ankle, it was red and twisted out ofplace. “Can yer move it?” She asked and Sole shook their head wincing. “Don’t chaworry, I got yer.” Cait carefully lifted Sole up and carried them into a nearbybuilding, away from the enemies that had given up on fighting them. Cait slowlyput Sole down on an old worn chair before going off to find a box to prop Sole’sankle onto. Sole tilted their head as they looked at Cait in disbelief.

“What are ye lookin’ at?” Caitasked, examining Sole’s ankle a little closer.

“You’re a lot stronger thanyou look.” Sole laughed which caused Cait to playfully punch Sole in the arm.

“Yeah. Appearances aren’t everythingyano. I could kick yer ass easy,” She joked. “Now stay still and let me patch yerup.”

Curie: Sole carefullystepped across the old wooden planks that lined the upper floor of a decrepitbuilding. Curie had suggested to Sole that together they should find a fewmedical supplies for the growing settlements. But they’d had no luck, untilthey stumbled upon an old, abandoned raider den.

“Bingo!” Sole exclaimed,pleased with themselves as they handed the various chems and medical suppliedto Curie so she could put them in her bag.

“Wonderful,” Curie agreed.What a great find, these supplies would be more than enough for a fewtreatments but Sole being, well Sole, they didn’t want to leave any of thebuilding unchecked.

Sole reached for the door knobto what appeared to be a closet, only when Sole opened the door, they were greetedto a small swarm of hatched bloatflies. Startled, they flew into Sole’s facemaking them stumble back and step on a rotten floorboard. The board creaked loudlybefore giving way and snapping in half, sending Sole through the floor.

“Oh no!” Curie gasped turningback and hurrying down the stairs in which they’d came up. She flew through thedoor and over to Sole’s side. “Your leg madam/ monsieur!” Curie knew it wouldbe unsafe to treat Sole’s leg here so she somehow manged to pick Sole up cradlingthem in her, apparently strong arms, which definitely left Sole speechless to saythe least. Curie backtracked to one of the houses they’d already cleared out,making sure to help Sole to the best of her ability.

Danse: Danse pressed hisback against the wall as he avoided countless laser rifle shots from a handful ofgeneration 1 institute synths. He tactfully reloaded his weapon before peakingaround the wall to fire a few shots at them. He looked to his left, where Solewas standing, when he noticed one of the synths had snuck up behind the two ofthem.

“SOLE!” he shouted but as Solewent to look over at him they were hit over the back of the head by the synth holdinga shock baton. Danse fired at the synth, blasting its head off and turning itto dust. Danse then continued to kill the remaining synths before dashing toSole’s side. He quickly picked up Sole and hurried back to the police stationwhere they would be safe from any danger.

Sole woke up to Scribe Haylenwrapping a bandage around their head. They gazed up at Danse, who was standingwith his arms crossed, a worried look etched on his face. His eyes lit up whenhe noticed Sole had woken up. He moved closer to the mattress Sole was lyingon.

“How are you doing soldier?”He asked, kneeling beside Sole, inspecting their head. He smiledsympathetically.

“I’m fine,” Sole said beforeadding, “How did I get back here?” Danse scratched the back of his head.

“I carried you back after youwere hit,” he explained.

“Thank you.”

“We’ve got to stick together,”Danse said with a smile.

Deacon: “Do you hear that?”Sole asked as they cautiously down at the ground with furrowed eyebrows. Deaconstopped in his tracks as he tried to listen to whatever Sole was referring to.He shrugged and shook his head. Sole shook it off, continuing towards theirdestination. Sole stopped once again. “I swear-” Sole was cut off when theywere knocked to the ground after being attacked from below. A mole rat had burrowedits way out of the dirt and had sank its teeth into Sole’s leg. Sole winced inpain, falling to the ground as the mole rat continued its attack on them.Deacon reacted quickly, kicking the mole rat off Sole, before shooting it inthe head.

“Frickin’ little bugger,” Solecried, clutching their bleeding leg. Deacon scooped Sole up in his arms.

“That looks pretty nasty,” Hecommented.

“It is!” Sole whined, makingDeacon let out a little chuckle.

“Don’t worry I’ll get you backto base. You’re going to need a couple of shots for that one.” He laughedagain, causing Sole to groan.

“You’re not helping!” Solehuffed, crossing their arms.

Hancock: A loud siren alertedHancock and Sole who were both chilling on the sofa inside Sole’s home. It wasn’tvery often they got to spend time just relaxing, there was always something todo. Sole quickly jumped to their feet, rushing to the front door to see whatall the commotion was about. The crackling noise of gunfire broke out andHancock grabbed his gun, following Sole into the heat of the fight.

A small group of raiders hadsomehow grown the balls to try and attack Sanctuary. Hancock watched from afaras Sole went to finish off an enemy only to be shot by a second raider who hadbeen hiding behind a stack of tires. In a burst of anger Hancock shot at theman in the burlap sack mask, his face exploding along with fragments of his mask.Hancock killed the other raider, overkilling her when he sent the butt of hisgun through her face. He turned to Sole, assessing their injuries with his eyesbefore leaning down and picking Sole up.

“Fucking assholes,” Hancockmuttered to himself taking a very injured Sole back into their house. He put Soledown on their bed. “Stay here until I get back. Do you understand?” It wasn’t reallya question, but more of a demand, he knew what Sole was like. He was going to finishoff all those goddamn raiders before he’d come back and patch up Sole. Nosurvivors, not for this.

MacCready: MacCready pulled the trigger of hissniper rifle, his bullet flying through the air, landing between the eyes of alarge super mutant. He cocked the bolt back, lining up another shot. He smirkedas he watched the clueless super mutants through his scope. Sole, who was standingnext to MacCready, stepped forward accidently slipping on a muddy patch ofgrass. They fell on their ass and slid down the hill, on the way down Sole hadhit their knee on a rock. Sole had also alertedthe super mutant group, but Mac was more worried about sole then the mutants.

“You blew our cover,” hewhisper-yelled, hurrying down the hill to Sole’s aid. The super mutants whereapproaching them but instead of fighting MacCready knelt down letting Soleclimb onto his back. He stood up with a groan, Sole was heavier than theylooked, either that or is was down to MacCready’s scrawny arms. Although it wasslippery, Mac made his way up the muddy bank, completely evading the buff greendudes. MacCready was tired but Sole was enjoying the piggy bank.

Nick: “How badly did theyget you?” Nick asked, crouching down beside Sole. He reached forward examiningSole. “Looks rough kid,” he added when he noticed the slashes and scratchesacross Sole’s waist.

“It hurts like mad” Solefrowned.

“I bet. Look, I don’t know ifI’ll be much help with this old thing,” Nick joked referring to his exposedmetal hands. Sole laughed for a moment before grimacing in pain, clutchingtheir side. Nick helped Sole off the ground, wrapping their arm around the backof his neck. Nick slowly walked Sole to a secluded building away from the feralghouls’ corpses that had attacked them. He gently put Sole down onto an old woodenchair.

“Take this,” Nick handed Solea stimpak, offering a sympathetic smile as they infected it into their side. Itwasn’t so much carrying but more of a friendly helping hand.

Piper: “How did I let yourope me into this.” Sole sighed with a huff, looking over at Piper who wassmiling widely to herself.

“The gift of the gab,” Shereplied. “Now hush.” Piper lifted her index finger to her lip to silence Sole.If they were too loud, she couldn’t capture the picture she wanted. She’dwanted it for days, a picture of Yao Guai, caring for its cup. Piper quicklysnapped the shot, the bright flash of the camera alerting the animals. As anyprotective mother would, the Yao Guai growled moving closer Piper. Sole grabbedher sleeve and initiated for them to run the hell away from the angry beast.

As they were making their quickgetaway Sole stumbled over, nearly bringing piper with them, Piper bent downand picked up Sole by there are, wrapping it around her neck as she tried topull Sole along.

“God you weigh a tonne,” Shejoked, hurrying along. Piper tried her best to carry Sole to safety, not evenresiding the mutated bear has given up chasing them. She dropped to the ground.

“Hey!” Sole shouted as theyhit the floor with a thud.

“I’m sorry, but you’re heavy.”She laughed before offering Sole her hand to help them up from the ground.

Piper offered her shoulder onceagain, carrying a hobbling sole to a clinic.

Preston: “We’re trapped!” Soleobserved in a panicked tone. Preston and Sole had been chased by gunners into asmall two-story house.

“No where to run now!” one ofthe gunners taunted as they approached the narrow staircase. Unfortunately, itwas too narrow to escape from. Preston smashed one of the already brokenwindows with the stock of his laser musket, clearing the rest of the glass forthem to escape.

“General! This way.” Prestonnodded his head towards the window before he climbed out onto a garage roof,stepping carefully on the weathered tiles. Sole climbed out next, walking overto the edge of the roof. It was safe enough for them to jump down. As Sole wentto jump down they lost their footing, slipping off the roof and landing ontheir leg. Preston immediately jumped down after them and didn’t even hesitateas he lifted Sole into his arms.

“It looks broken,” he said sadly.All Sole could do was let out a groan, unable to muster up any words. Preston didn’teven wait for the gunners to catch on, he ran as fast as he could, clutching Soletightly to his chest. He had to get them some help.

X6-88: “I detect enemymovement nearby,” X6 announced, holding his gun steadily in front of him. He’salways ready before the fight even starts. Sole followed him around a cornerwhere they were ambushed by three brotherhood soldiers. X6 managed to fight offand kill two of them but that wasn’t before the third manged to knock Sole tothe ground.

Sole struggled to get thesoldier off them, wrestling about. Sole yelled out as a stinging pain ripped upthrough their leg. The soldier had managed to get out a knife and plunge itinto Sole’s leg. X6 hit the soldier in the back of the head with his gun, knockingthem off Sole and onto the ground. The soldier clutched his head as he writhed abouton the ground. A single laser shot, ended the soldier and X6 focused hisattention back to Sole, who had also been squirming around in immense pain.

Without saying anything X6picked sole up and threw them over his shoulder. Although it wasn’t the bestway to carry an injured Sole, it’s the thought that counts, right?

#fallout 4 #fo4 #fallout 4 companions #fallout 4 companions react #fallout 4 companion reactions #fo4 companions #fo4 companion reactions #fo4 companions react #Cait #Curie #Danse #Deacon #nick valentine #hancock #Robert Joseph MacCready #Piper Wright #preston garvey #x6-88

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