bottlecapping

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folks saying charon doesn't use contractions when one of his first lines are "I. Don't. Care." and "Don't make me say it again."

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Charon

I uh,, didn’t feel like drawing his armor 

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❝ i think i might have accidentally just hurt myself again. ❞ - for charon (rip)

Charon stops mid-stride. Postured up straight; hanging by his sides, his balled up begloved hands.

Protocol suggests he about-faces, again, and investigate — that is just what Charon does. Back up and over the lab debris, into a dead end. An alcove, where she stands, made of three walls of screens, bulbs, knobs and tubes. Some kind of server, Charon thinks, but it looked long since unpowered. Therefore, in his review: utterly fucking useless.

Coming close to assess, the serious analysis of his eyes was on her quick and clinical like. Spotting an unusual mark: small, pinkened with irritation, Charon's first guess is that she's suffered, maybe, a mild burn.

His focus shifts, flicking mechanically in search around the panels of controls. His ruined mouth tilts in discontent, grumbling, "How are there any heat hazards in here?"

[bottlecapping]

prompts for muses who are Little Shits™

for all the muses out there who like to mess with others!! mainly meant for platonic relationships, but can be used for romantic & antagonistic relationships as well! feel free to modify any pronouns, descriptor words, & objects for your needs!

FROM THE LITTLE SHIT.

words. ❝ how'd you like the fake spider in your room? ❞ ❝ hang on a second, i'm gonna record this — ❞ ❝ i took 20 bucks out of your bag last night. ❞ ❝ alright, that's it, time for the tickle monster treatment! ❞ ❝ oh, yeah? and what are you gonna do about it? ❞ ❝ i think i might have accidentally just hurt myself again. ❞ ❝ what makes you think you can possibly take me? ❞ ❝ outta the way, i was here first! ❞ ❝ sorry, i lost that a little while ago. ❞ ❝ hey, come on! it was just a prank! ❞ ❝ i'm seriously thinking about forcing that secret out of you. ❞ ❝ wait, did YOU say you wanted the last piece of pie in the fridge? 'cause i kinda just ate it ... ❞

actions. [ SING ] — sender starts singing raunchy lyrics around receiver [ WRESTLE ] — sender attempts to start play-fighting with receiver [ FINGER ] — sender flips receiver the bird [ LAUGH ] — sender tries to make receiver laugh [ LEAN ] — sender puts their full weight on receiver [ COLD ] — sender puts their cold fingers under receiver's shirt [ DRIVE ] — sender begins to drive very fast with receiver in the car with them [ FOOD ] — sender steals a bite of receiver's food when they're not looking [ BLANKET ] — sender pulls receiver's blanket off them while they're half-asleep [ PRANK ] — sender pulls a prank on receiver (bonus points if a type of prank is specified!)

FOR THE LITTLE SHIT.

words. ❝ hey, stop that! ❞ ❝ careful, i just got that new furniture. ❞ ❝ okay, okay, i'll do anything, just please stop tickling me ... ! ❞ ❝ god, you're such an asshole! ❞ ❝ i swear, if you do that one more time ... ❞ ❝ i didn't actually think it was that funny. ❞ ❝ aw, dammit, you broke it! ❞ ❝ you can't go 24 hours without having some kind of accident, huh? ❞ ❝ you just cheated! i watched you! ❞ ❝ if you even think about messing with me today, i will end you. ❞ ❝ are you drunk or something? because that was some of the weirdest shit i've ever heard. ❞ ❝ okay, i won't lie, that was actually pretty funny. ❞

actions. [ HEADLOCK ] — sender puts receiver in a headlock [ CHASE ] — sender chases receiver around in frustration [ RUN ] — sender runs from receiver to avoid being pranked/scared [ NUDGE ] — sender briskly nudges receiver in response to a snarky comment [ IGNORE ] — sender pretends to ignore receiver [ PULL ] — sender is dragged into pulling a prank with the sender [ CLEAN ] — sender begins cleaning receiver's mess [ WIPE ] — sender begins cleaning receiver's injuries after pulling a stunt that doesn't end well [ LEAVE ] — sender storms off in frustration after being messed with by receiver [ REVENGE ] — sender pulls a revenge prank on receiver (bonus points if a type of prank is specified!)

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People who get sick from radiation exposure are faking it for attention, radiation is literally the divine light of creation and it nourishes those who are pure of spirit

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“Happy Fathers Day.” Jake tosses Charon a box of shotgun shells.

Charon, face ascowl, snaps the projectile from the air with his gloved fist — cautiously and urgently setting it down on the nearest available surface.

He takes a single long-legged side step away from the foreign object. Allowing a tense, brief moment to pass. Looking expectant: the bouncer's locked eyes on fist-wrinkled box. Standing taut. Gripping the back of a chair. Nothing happens.

Releasing the chair — reaching, instead, to lift the lid of the box, Charon investigates with a wary set of milky eyes and fixed-low brow. Confirming: it's just ammunition.

"You are going to run that bit to the ground." Charon had accepted, reluctantly, that discouraging Jake was not worth the effort, but still he won't be deprived of a gripe.

Unlatching, from his combat effects, a pouch for storing spare ammunition — it slouches when placed on the table. The shells are transfered to and arranged within, several pulled aside for a secondary inspection of their blemishes and markings before joining the others.

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she was never really the “lone” wanderer

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im coming back soon and nothing can stop me

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Jeannie. Her name rolls over Boone in a hot flash. The kind of heat that compromises rational thought. That reddens vision.

Boone remembers, summons the memory of Pip-Boy light on Jeannie's glasses. How the reflection made naive moons of her eyes. How he was the last thing she never saw.

"...Boone? Or would you rather have something more flashy?"

The hair on his forearms was bristled. His lips settled firmer. Working backwards from what he'd last heard, he cobbles together enough understanding to come up with a passable response.

"Dunno."

The small and simple life was enough? The Mojave would have people sell off their fellow men like cattle if it meant securing some slice of a life better than small and simple.

Boone clenched his teeth into the dismal thoughts; not letting them out. Concerning himself with the undue collateral damage.

He looked back out to the desert for muse. It's an uninspiring waste without enemies on the horizon. An unpleasant subject he'd rather avoid.

"What's so 'cute' about Novac?"

"it's small, & nice, & even a little cute." she knows this response to boone's question is strange, but it is, at the very least, honest. "ya know, before i came to the mojave, i thought i wanted to stick to vegas, get a job as a courier, find a place to live in the strip — or even freeside if i'm lucky — & relocate my family to a place i consider 'better' than the capital wasteland, but as i arrived here & bought the room from jeannie, i realized that small & simple is actually the life for me."

most people, especially people hailing from vegas, would probably consider the place a shithole, & at one point, she probably would've thought the same, but even vegas isn't all it's cut out to be. it's another shithole in the entire world full of shitholes. it's just more flashy & people can go there to forget about their troubles while getting drunk on booze, gambling, & sex workers. that's why ramona likes to hang around there, at least.

"i mean, who wants to live in a place full of creeps & dangerous secrets? maybe solitude is exactly what one's spirits need; it's probably what i need. still, i hope my family is still willing to leave the cage they live in for something with a little more open air & heat." the open air is polluted but it's still better than the oxygen breathed in a metal shell like rivet city.

"do you like novac, boone? or would you rather have something more flashy?"

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Pookie...

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my lone wanderer and CHARON (i love charon…so much)

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Lily and Leo

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"...What now?"

Now begins by wrenching a bullet out his chest plate with knifetip. It travels in a long, bloody arch before landing among the killing floor detritus. A caravan ran off the road. And strewn bodies, still warm. But nevermind them. Excluding himself, only one life was his priority.

The Employer. Malakai.

Charon lumbers with a single-minded focus. Turning the fallen over and searching their features for identification. For every raider he discovers, he blasts with a shotgun shell. An executioner's assurance.

A path of unloaded hulls leads to where Malakai was last seen: crated goods that look like wooden swiss cheese now. Impromptu cover. The ghoul bends out of sight behind it, spending several tireless (nevertheless, contract-obligated) minutes of attempted resuscitation — confirming what Charon's gut already knew to be true. He's officially unemployed.

A pit of emotions opens up within him. This relief from the bridle, the wrongness for feeling that relief, contrition for failing to protect his Employer. His lifeline is his discipline, and it urges him to recall the contract's rules. Knowing what must come next keeps him from sinking.

The caravan leader's corpse is laid across the flattest rock formations under the shade. Charon fists through the late Malakai's personal effects.

"Get outta this death trap first. Lose any tails," grousing, gun-smoke roughened. Have to check myself over, too. He keeps searching, turning pockets inside out. "My contract is nullified upon the death of my employer. I must search for new employment."

🌺 Starter for @bottlecapping's Charon 🌺

‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒ They inhaled sharply, vision blurring back into focus as they smelled the gun-smoke still lingering in the air.

Raiders had attacked from above the cliffs on the water caravan's route, something Yu-nae had stated outright was a bad idea and they should try to find a way up the cliffs instead, or at least have someone scout ahead first. They didn't volunteer to scout ahead. Nobody did. And now everyone in the caravan was dead.

Everyone except them, and the ghoul. Charon had made it a point to not engage with much conversation, gruffly instructing anyone to the leader of the caravan should one try to speak with him. After the first three days of observing this, Yu-nae decided they wouldn't bother trying to small-talk the big guy.

They were unsure how much of the blood on their vault-suit was theirs or their enemies, considering they recalled having to resort to their power fist after one raider got too close for comfort and they couldn't reload in time. They also had the raider's spine in their gloved hand-- they didn't remember tearing it out from his asshole, that had been a spectacle only those watching would witness.

Yu-nae turned to look at the wreckage, then back to the remaining survivor.

"...What now?"

[bottlecapping]

Jason…

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how fast i write in an hour

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ohhh ive never drawn him before anon, regardless have a pic of him and lily gathering herbs for medicine :)

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"Seen those." Those being the amalgamations she described; Boone's memories of them are mostly through rifle scope. Scavenging beasts, but who isn't in the Mojave? Nightstalkers (she called 'em) were only really trouble when they went sniffing too far from whatever hole they had crawled out of. And she's right - about them being frightening.

A relieving breeze circulates - Boone's turned on a desk fan guarded by a pair of souvenir Dinkies. Took a few tries of its corroded switch to get it going.

The snag in the conversation outlasts the task. It's just enough to reflect on the last time she came back after being isolated and swept up in the momentum of grand schemes.

At least she's talking this time.

Boone usually couldn't notice. There was no room in his head to understand anyone else. Only fire up there. Legion cleansing fire.

"I got you something."

"Me?" Flat: a breathy note of disbelief, uncertainty, and hesitance. Thoughts of the Legion linger; nudge his eyebrows together. They unnudge as his shades are lit up by the glowing bottles he was presented with. His rifle shrugs behind him, his hard expression unhelpfully consistent as he inspects her gifts.

"Not the collecting type."

The day's dust is handbrushed off the counter and the Nukas are sat on the clean(er) surface.

"Could drink them."

after  exploring  big  mt  to  its  fullest,   wisteria  travels  back  to  the  closest  place  she  could  call  home;   novac  stands  in  the  distance,  dinky  the  dinosaur  welcoming  her  back.  wisteria  knows  boone  is  standing  guard,  stopping  slightly   underneath  the  dinosaur  to  look  up  and  wave,  if  he  reacts  to  it  she  can’t  tell.   she  hurries  to  meet him  at  the  entrance  of  the  gift  shop  —  eager  to  tell  him  of  the  wild  adventure  she  had  been  on  (  one  that  happened  without  warning  too  ).  this  was  different  from  the  sierra  madre,  still  stressful  but  not  a  journey  that  left  her  as  traumatized,  one  she’s  not  afraid  to  talk  about.  she  sets  her  bag  down  with  an  audible  thunk (  carrying  who  knows  what  kind  of  mementos  from  big  mt   )   and  took  a  seat  onto  the  counter,  cliff wasn’t there to tell her otherwise,  finally out of the mojave heat.     ❝  i’m  so  happy  to  see  you  again !   you’ll  never  believe  this.  ❞ [ . . . ]

stop, what the hell are you talking about? — @bottlecapping.

boone  cuts  her off  mid  sentence,  retelling  the  encounter  with  the  nightstalkers  in   the  x-8  trials.  she  takes  a  second  to  process  what  he  had  asked,  not  sure  which  part  he  was  asking  about.  ❝  . . . the  nightstalkers ?  they’re  this  weird  coyote  and  rattlesnake  hybrid,  scary  as  shit  though.  ❞.  she  shrugs  it  off,  ❝  heard   rumors  that  they’re  around  the  mojave  too  but  i’ve  never  seen  them  till  now.  ❞.  her  legs  kick  back  and  forth  nervously,  the  sudden  realization  of  how  crazy  she  must  sound  right  now.  ❝  oh  wait !    i  got  you  something.  ❞,   she  slides  off  the  counter  to  rummage  through  her  bag.  ❝  tadaaa,  ❞  she  hands  over  two  bottles  of  nuka-cola,  one  victory  flavored  and  the  other  quartz.  ❝  isn’t  that  cool ?  never  seen  them  in  different  flavors  before.  ❞