17escapes-blog

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hey, fallout rpc ♥ give this a LIKE / REBLOG if you’d be interested in writing with fallout 4′s best character, THE CRAZY INVISIBLE MOTORCYCLE MAN! i’d like more fallout characters to follow and would love to play around with this verse more. let me know if you’re interested in a starter!

(please keep in mind that this is just an au for my muse! it simply fits magnificently well with who he is in canon and i couldn’t help myself. you can read more about my version of him here.)

[17escapes-blog]

          The lady would have to pardon the surprised look on Captain’s face, but it wasn’t often a ghoul had the pleasure of being called ‘cute’. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time anyone had paid him any compliments, least of all about his appearance. 

          “You’re not so bad yourself,” he husked. “Blind, may be...” Yellowed teeth peeked out to bite a cracked lip. “What’s your name?”

@17escapes​​ ♡ ‘d for a starter.

“  oh,  look  at  you  !  you  ghouls  are  all  so  cute  !  ” not  exactly  how  most  people  would  greet  ghouls,  but�� fortunately  this  gal’s  not  human  or  bigoted  towards  these  kind.  most  of  her  colleagues  were  ghouls  -  and  kind  people.  though,  calling  them  ‘  cute  ‘  was  a  little  …  outlandish.

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          “What is it with you people lookin’ at me like that all the time?” Captain let out a gravely, exasperated sigh. He’d taken care to cover up every inch of skin that he could--some folks still didn’t like the looks of ghouls and he knew it--so what was the big deal? Irritated, he reached for his gun on the table and decided to busy himself with cleaning it. 

          ...Except there was nothing there. No gun, just air. Captain continued to go through the motions despite it, miming running his hands along the cool metal he could swear he felt.

          “You kids nowadays.” He interrupted his muttering with clicking noises out the side of his mouth, the distinct sound of beginning to unload a firearm. “Back before the bombs dropped, people had something called ‘manners’.”

[17escapes-blog]

Vanilla sex is hardly spoken about but it’s cute like imagine whispering I love you to someone and hearing them moan and being so caught up in the pleasure and endorphins that you basically melt into eachother while holding hands and kissing eachother

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          Virgil’s forehead wrinkled. “Because-- I... I say things. Do things.” Things I don’t mean.

17escapes‌:

          “Mm.” Virgil chewed at the end of his cigarette and offered Bezi a second. “I’m not. I keep feelin’ like I should still be out there, even though there’s nowhere I’d rather be than here.” His shoulders slacked. “…Are you angry with me?”

He took the cigarette and took a good drag on it. He remembered how that felt- still felt it sometimes- but… It had never made him act like Hilts did.         Bewildered at the question, Bezi frowned at him. “Why would I be angry with you?” Hurt, for sure, but angry? He couldn’t be angry at Hilts.

[17escapes-blog]

hey, fallout rpc ♥ give this a LIKE / REBLOG if you’d be interested in writing with fallout 4′s best character, THE CRAZY INVISIBLE MOTORCYCLE MAN! i’d like more fallout characters to follow and would love to play around with this verse more. let me know if you’re interested in a starter!

(please keep in mind that this is just an au for my muse! it simply fits magnificently well with who he is in canon and i couldn’t help myself. you can read more about my version of him here.)

[17escapes-blog]

          Virgil blinked owlishly at her and his gaze rolled away somewhere to the side. “Huh,” he said, and that was it. Despite the pills, he could feel the exhaustion creeping in his bones underneath the chaotic chemical buzz in his system. He was too tired to think of another excuse, but the way the lady talked, he doubted that he could convince her anyway.

          “Ookay...” Virgil’s mouth split into a laughing grin and he gave an exaggerated shrug. “I guess the celebration’s worn off on me.” His eyes glinted as he looked back to her, bright, but not exactly happy. Not like his smile, which felt more fake than real at this point. 

          “I figured I’d be fine once my feet where on the ground again, but--” Virgil clicked his tongue and jabbed an accusatory finger at the moon. “I can’t get the noise out of my head. War’s over, everybody says, but I still got some of it in here.” His finger lowered to tap at his temple. “Like the bombs just aren’t gonna stop going off, y’know?” 

          Virgil paused. Only then did it strike him as odd that he was pouring out any piece of his heart to a stranger. But she had asked and he supposed if he vented to anyone, it may as well be someone who won’t know him come morning.

          “So... baseball,” he finished. “It helps me think.”

   @17escapes 

     Virgil flinched and his baseball nearly smacked him in the face. He awkwardly tried to catch the ball, but fumbled, sending it bouncing and rolling to the woman’s feet. His hands were trembling.

         “Sorry,” he said, brows arching at her intrusion. “I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d toss my baseball around ‘til I, uh, ‘til I tired myself out.”

         By which he really meant ‘until these uppers wear off’, which he had no intention of allowing to happen. He may no longer have to stay up all hours of the night running or planning escapes, but that didn’t stop him from taking what tablets he had left. Virgil touched at the bottle’s weight in his breast pocket and exhaled.

         “I could ask you the same thing,” Virgil added. A charming smile was quick to tilt his lips as he stooped to pick up his baseball. “Can I help you with something?”

     A smile touched her lips at his response. She gently nudged the baseball towards him with the tip of her high heel. He made a good point, questioning what she was doing out this late.

    “I got bored.” Ann answered. “Sometimes I go on walks at night. My friends always tell me I shouldn’t go alone– I might run into some psychopathic stranger, they say. But you don’t seem like a psychopath. Even if you are, you probably at least deserve a moment’s chance.”

  “You do seem troubled though. I admit, I don’t go on walks alone at 4 a.m simply for no reason. Neither does one play with a baseball this late at night for no reason either.” she murmured. “I’ve given the ‘I couldn’t sleep’ talk before. Many, many times. You say it so well, I would’ve believed you if I didn’t say it just as good.”

[17escapes-blog]

Do me a huge favour and REBLOG IF YOU DON’T CONDONE SHIP SHAME/SHIP WARS

We all have ships we don’t like. A lot of us even have ships we hate- but that doesn’t make it okay to tell someone not to ship something, and it certainly doesn’t make it alright to send someone hate/shame them for what they ship!

Ship wars can really hurt people, and leave lasting issues with fandom/shipping as a whole, or even drive people out of fandoms entirely! Tag blockers exist for a reason- so please reblog this to let folks know your blog is a safe space, and you’ll use them instead of sending hate!

[17escapes-blog]

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RAF Squadron Leader Roger Bushell Leads the ‘Great Escape’

24–25 March 1944

RAF Squadron Leader Roger Bushell led the real 'Great Escape’ from German POW camp Stalag Luft III, on this day in British history, 24 March 1944. His ambitious plan involved digging three separate tunnels simultaneously, to give at least one a greater chance for success. After tunnel 'Harry’ was completed, 76 POW’s managed to escape on the night of 24–25 March 1944. Sadly, only three of them escaped Nazi occupied territory. The other 73 were recaptured, and in a reaction that is considered war crime, Hitler ordered 50 of them, including Bushell, to be executed without trial.

http://todayinbritishhistory.com/roger-bushell-leads-great-escape-24-march-1944/

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New on War History Online: “Great Escape” Dick Churchill - “My Name May Have Saved My Life!” http://wrhstol.com/1dLjxyq

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          “You could say that,” Captain rasped. He folded his arms and leaned back against the rock he’d been hiding behind, casual as you please. “I’m more of a wanderer now--everywhere is home.”

          Or the loosest definition of it. ‘Home’ felt so far away now. Intangible. Buried under centuries of rubble and radiation. 

          “But it’s nice. Just me, my motorcycle, and the open wasteland.”

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          “Call me ‘Captain’,” he said, and almost looked as if he was going to make a move to shake then thought better of it. “Or ‘Cap’, if you promise not to gut me any time in the future.”

The wariness softened off of Bezi’s face. He smiled, flashing his fangs at the humor, and shook his head.        “Oh, no- I only gut men when they deserve it,” he promised, “And I don’t think you meet the qualifications. It’s nice to meet you, Cap.”          As he spoke, his eyes- concealed behind sleek sunglasses- scanned the landscape. The last thing he wanted was to be surprised by any more radscorpions, especially when he had to look out for someone nuts enough to shoot at one with a gun that didn’t exist. “Do you live around here?”

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          Virgil held up his hands in surrender. He didn’t mind Hancock salvaging things, it was admirable, in a way, but he remembered Hancock’s junk trove back in the alley. He liked re-purposing old things as much as any other guy with an ounce of DIY interest, but there was fixing up free stuff and then there was clutter. Some things just weren’t worth the hassle of saving. Some things actually belonged in the trash. 

          “Sure, sure, but...” Virgil trailed off, eyes sweeping over the boxes of things Hancock had amassed. “What are you gonna do with all this?”

@17escapes​ || boop

         “Well, I can’t say you changed much,” Virgil said, shaking his head with a chuckle. Still, there was something almost pained in his eyes and the too tight upward turn of his lips. “You don’t need to pick through dumpsters, Hancock. Whatever you need– this house is just as much yours as it is mine.”

The Ghoul tilted his head, as if the thought was absurd to him. For starters- he felt even a little worse, in this world, taking things that weren’t his than he did back home. There would have been a time he would have welcomed hospitality… perhaps even taken advantage of it, but here, in this hand of plenty?         “With people throwing so much good shit out? You’d think they were pressin’ caps in their houses, the way they toss out stuff worth good money, or good use.”

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          “Can you blame me?” The amused glint in his eyes hadn’t left. Virgil had seen more men lose it while wasting away in a prisoner camp, but he’d never heard anyone claim they were a wizard before. 

          “If you’re a wizard, why don’t you turn the Kommandant and every one of his ferrets into toads?” he goaded. “And why stop there? I think the Führer would make a fine jackass.”

@17escapes xxx

       Virgil laughed. It was just an incredulous little snort, barely a cracking chuckle, and it quickly faded when he realized Rob wasn’t laughing with him. In fact, Rob looked dead serious, and Virgil hadn’t any clue how to take that kind of look with a statement like that.

         “Oh man,” he breathed. “You’re serious.”

Rob, who’d continued to look at the other evenly, sighed inwardly. He always hoped for the reaction he’d gotten from Lebau who’d just told him, oh yes, his sister had been sent to Beauxbatons but somehow that glorious moment had never been meant to repeat itself. 

“I’m serious,” he confirmed. “And you think I’m crackin’ up.”

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          “Mmhm...” Virgil picked at his lower lip as he listened. Already, the risk of Rob’s requests were bigger than what their demoralized camp might be willing to take. Still, whatever it was, it was a plan, something that Virgil himself didn’t have at the moment. 

          “There is one guy,” he began, slowly. “A ferret. Ah... Werner’s his name, I think. Hendley’s in good with him, and he seems to believe that old Werner’s only so loyal to the Reich as he’s afraid.” It was a long shot, but Virgil shrugged. “If anyone would know about that, it might be him.”

17escapes‌:

          An odd beat of silence skipped between them and Virgil could only gawk. “Oooh…” he groaned, shoving his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, this is suicide.” But there was no changing his mind, it seemed, and Virgil wasn’t going to let another man die trying to break the fence.

          “Alright, alright. Let’s suppose you don’t sound nuts, let’s suppose I help you. What do I have to do, then?” Virgil crossed his arms. “Theoretically.”

That was something. “I need information. A detailed layout of the camp, what times the guards are changed and most importantly I need all you have on the Kommandant. Anything you know, personal or military history, personality, weaknesses, what time he goes to bed, does he have a signed copy of Mein Kampf… anything, okay?”

[17escapes-blog]

“If nothing else, one day you can look someone straight in the eyes and say ‘But I lived through it. And it made me who I am today.’”

— Iain Thomas, I Wrote This For You

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headcanon: big x

After Roger Bartlett was reported as one of the many dead after the big escape, a meeting was held among the remaining prisoners and they decided to make Virgil the next “Big X”. Virgil turned down the title, both shaken by the number of dead and leery of the responsibility that came with officially leading any next prison camp breaks. Despite his refusal, the camp has still accepted him as their unofficial leader, partnered with Robert Hendley, “The Scrounger”.