nor-did-i-care-to-goodbye - Tumblr blog

[nor-did-i-care-to-goodbye]

The Auditor makes his appearance towards the end of the event. He sobers the crowd with a speech on posterity and rouses their ambition with a toast to the future and a reminder to make with what they leave behind better than what they bereaved on the surface.

or House crashes a Rapture new years party with a dress and a lecture on the consequences of bigotry.

This is set in my very alternate universe where, towards the end of his millenium tenure of supervisor over New Vegas, accidents happen and House finally passes the torch fully on to his exasperated courier and the safeguards they've developed over nearly 700 years of service, to go and fuck around with Andrew Ryan—or a version of Andrew Ryan.

[nor-did-i-care-to-goodbye]

Content Warning: suggestive image, implied/referenced non-con, discussions of fictional mob families and their unethical practices, unhealthy or inadvisable relationships, otherwise batshit and unrealistic things

stocked

finally she posts! first it was anxiety over punting this thing without the mature community label curtain. then it was a the posting limit she (i) hit on the other blog. then it was the general blog content warning she (i, again) forgot to post in favor of being an attention whore with no empathy for other people! (i'm working on that) what will she do next! (no please do tell me when i forget to tag things or tag things incorrectly or am generally being an asshole, thank you. the painfully aware presence that is not everything else usually catches it, but a shot to the knee is always welcome.)

now, onto house:

so as you have now probably gleaned (– and if you haven't, check the tags –) that the houses i write and draw are very au. very, very au, as my last attempt at fanfic or fan finagling with a piece of media has absolutely rotted my ability to not be au with it. he's still a bastard, of course - he's still robert edwin house, ceo of robco industries, sole proprietor of the new vegas strip. he's now just a little bit... other things as well.

he's Robert Edwin House, the mob wife of a mafia heiress Mary-lynn Lussier, and groomed since late adolescence to be so, partially of his own will, partially not since it's the mob, nevermind it being french, not entirely of his said mob spouse's full consent on the matter either, because 12 year olds will think anything is cool when it's a family thing and they're made to feel included, and she's protecting her nerdy twerp friend who's brother is a shit and who comes off as a mean snob when really he just doesn't get people all of the time, like her own one brother, of which there are several and think, that when she is sixteen and a prodigy at daddy's job, that her not-boyfriend sort of pet nerd, who made her a custom automatic baseball pitcher tailored to her and her needs, should also be tailored to her needs in turn and sex ed in fallout america is bullshit anyway, right?

he's also Robert Edwin House, long lost, now newly reacquainted and acquired in college, childhood friend of rancher and stable master's nephew Victor Keene, of the ranch just across the watering hole at hidden valley, that boards horses of the Lussier family as well as other people and is a rider and ranch hand himself, when he's not off pursuing his degree in geology. this pin-up is something from around that time. in the off season, when he is not off keeping the piece behind the scenes of the pitch, he's with vic and occasionally with a message from mary on some underground subject or rather. house is not fond of being made a pigeon, but he weathers it, because in spite of all that is duly sane and logical, he likes being around vic and being vic's (- though the latter was a bit slow with the shot, at first -), and mary's, to a broad extent, deeper than the physical aspects of anything, because you aren't this kind of childhood sweetheart without some kind of other understanding of each other, which they have, in every sense, developed over the years.

is it mean, to have house this way? to have his life have so little peace, to only find it in the sole and solid existence of his companions and the fleeting, barely there substance of the things he's worked for so long and so hard, that he can barely feel as more than heavy air surging up his fingers from time to time?

yes. undoubtedly. and believe me when i say: this might not even be the worst of it.

[nor-did-i-care-to-goodbye]

Content Warning

statement a/o Sept. 20 2023: should've made this when I made the blog—

This blog contains depictions of deplorable behavior enacted by fictional characters in a fictional setting.

The author does not support any of these behaviors being acted upon in real life.

This blog contains sensitive subjects - discretion is highly advised when interacting with this blog.

This blog is vehemently not for children or any persons of an impressionable mindset and the author does not support the recreation of any of the warned behaviors in a real life setting in act of harm against real life people.

This blog contains and will contain characters acting out and exhibiting the fallout of such behaviors as:

Manipulation

Harm against children

Coercion

Intimidation

Psychological torture

Physical torture

Unethical experimentation

Abuse

Murder

Negligence

Bigotry and stereotyping

Inaction (towards actions committed by Legion)

—as well as anything and everything in relation to the above aforementioned, including dubious consent or lack of consent element to any relationship, in implication or explicit writing.

The viewer will be forewarned as to the inclusion of these elements in the tags or otherwise.

statement a/o Sept. 20 2023: however tame it may seem now, you do not want to know what goes on in my head or what is to come.

[nor-did-i-care-to-goodbye]

jumpsuit

last of the sfw house pin-ups [although this really isn't as suggestive as the second and the hickey one] for now. reminder about the poll under the cut off of this one. let me know if y'all want more of these and what outfits. [ probably will get to them after my courier and another piece i'm working on in the bioshock flavor.]

as for the story: we don't hear much of house's past. any record of a lived life that he had before the bombs mostly pertains to his post-company founding life, and, though they are a substantial bit of character backstory, the obituary and his brother's records have and are limited to his home life, if that, and the context of his persona of ruthlessness. what he was like in college, for example, though we visit the institution he graduates from in fo4, is as much as an enigma as what happened after the gyrosphere crash or even the circumstances of birth, whether anthony calling him a bastard was playground insult or visceral reality. these are the gaps i'd like to explore at any rate. the picture above is sometime around his college years and the infancy of the company. a part time job at a garage or junk yard, to pay for housing and what not [link is for the story inspo i got that from], and with odd jobs for mary's family, as i eluded to in my previous post. i like to think he also did house calls for some other repair gig he did, and that he'd gain some return customers who would then be the first "investors" of his company and his first few inventions. i think it adds a nice wholesomeness to contrast the ruthless business he would become and a bit of tragedy, seeing as those jobs he used to do would be the same that he overtakes from other people with his robots down the line. if you've ever read Fallout: Las Vegas, well, that's the sort of house that i want after my courier and before the reality of war truly struck. ideallic, sure, but don't we all have our fantasies.

oh and another thing i forgot to mention: the colour glazing or overlay or palate or accents of all these solitary pieces of house are mostly from the palates and particular color stories i've chosen for each member of his friend group/spouses. for example: mary is blue, so that's why this piece has blue accents and there's a blue letterman crumpled up next to him. jane is pink going purple and this piece is supposed to be for the day they unofficially first met. victor is a warm red going into orange and yellow-orange and the accents and overlay of the hickey piece [warning for suggestive themes at this link] here is that colour. house himself has greenish things, with the colors to complement that. so, whenever you see him in one of my pieces with any bits of the colours mentioned above, those other three are who i had in mind when i put them there. likewise with this one, where there's a peak of pink, is because jane finds him very attractive when he's down and dirty covered in grease and exhaust and mud and what have you fixing up one of mary's family limos or victor's muscle car.

[nor-did-i-care-to-goodbye]

haze

They took pride in their craft. I don't think Omertas saw other people as people at all. Everyone else was just... prey. They reminded me of a certain criminal element Vegas used to attract.

i am one of those people very compelled with unsaid things. from the earliest days of spelunking into fandom, i've always been a bit of a rat getting into things, scrounging around for scraps of information pertaining to my favoured characters, until developed enough sense to just... fill the gaps myself. robert house is a man of generous empty spaces, and for my iteration, i've decided to ball certain clippings of dialogue and paper mache them into wood fill.

the omertas. one of his most debilitating oversights. why should a man so versed in history and so boastful of an enlightened sense of awareness deliberately cause bother for himself and threaten the longevity of all that he now lives for for something so flimsy as nostalgia? he cites routine, but that would imply either a previous altogether impressionable experience or a gross indifference for the sake of surface novelty. if you're seeing this, you'll probably guess i went for the former.

the context of this image, without a piccrew, is something pertaining to house's past. In short, how we got there in the first place, is that my courier is a despicable human being and, in the spirit of ensuring the prosperity of less despicable human beings, decided to take a spade to the meagerly fortified flesh of his cyclopean employer's brain and dig. what he was looking for, and indeed what he found, was the greater sum of what these pictures made; ephemera of a bygone era, locked away to safeguard from crude axes of time and faulty, overwrought software. traces of these had always been there, in the very hind of house's consciousness, behind a door his machine sense rationalized that, if existed closed upon his awakening after the bombs and the comma, must not be worth opening or to open would further cripple him in his already fragile state and there is so much work to be done. so he let it be and let traces of that phantom code influence his decisions and actions in a jagged, disconnected, deplorable fascimile of informed sense.

this is from the days when he was young. when the suits he wore bunched at his elbows and sagged at his knees. when, on certain weekends, he dressed in a less than modest fashion to exacerbate the merriment and nullify the rage of a certain enigmatic and rueful kith of his, an organized crime operator of french descent daylighting as a women's baseball captain on his college campus, whose relatives often called on him to assist in tech and machine related matters on and off business hours, one such occasion resulting in the unfortunate and making of informal acquaintance of an up and coming reno star and senator's daughter looking to enlist the services of the morally dubious and clandestine family. in this life of house, i put that the subconscious propagation that an organized crime element be present in new vegas came from here, although that and other falacies borne of the abominable and butchered nostalgia would soon be amended.

[nor-did-i-care-to-goodbye]

jersey

so. given that the full post of this collection of house sketches includes some at best risque and in implication dubious pieces, i should probably post the singles not so dubious and that i did in fact do daily for the past week as separate pieces. also because i'm an attention whore. ha.

anyway, like most of them there's lore behind this. piccrew under the cut, but essentially marylin - or mary-lynn, as i have in my offshoot meta au - is a baseball captain and she's a mean scary bitch, but when you have eight brothers and seven sisters and you're all barely human beings some days, she gets to be that way. house is her emotional support cheerleader - that is, when he's not busy with his robotics degree, which is nearly his entire existence at the era of this picture. you cannot get this man to leave his part-time boss's garage or the computer/tech labs or his apartment that he splits with both mary and victor for anything, unless you are the women's baseball team's pitcher, who is the unofficial co-captain, piling up the phone lines with calls to wherever he is because your actual captain is going berserk. or maybe you wanna smooth over a tie from a recent friendly. or whatever occasion. sometimes you'll even get lucky and he'll come over dressed up. it would have to be pretty bad tho.

had to change the color scheme a bit, because mary is blue, and the lace design, because I got lazy.

also here's a poll. vote for whether i should post the one with the hickeys or not, without the mature label, just a warning for suggestive themes and partial nudity.

[nor-did-i-care-to-goodbye]

repository

Rated M for Suggestive themes

so uh. i got sidetracked.

basically, y'know, the idea was to post a sketch every day. like one of those drawing challenges. but since i'm allergic to posting things until i'm absolutely conked out to do so or for my brain to perceive that obnoxious wavelength, i did not commit. to that last part. instead what we have is a pseudo collection of vaguely related pictures that became lore meta for my own fallout universe, that crosses over and mingles with bioshock, and very self-indulgently contains retcons and origami logic of my blorbos, because we roll like that.

and i still have to do. that thing with my courier. so. stay tuned for that.

also, most of these poses are shamelessly ripped out of vintage illustration ads.

[nor-did-i-care-to-goodbye]

(—and the post on my main blog with the headcannons—)

# 1

Hey there House nation! So, I've been working on a little something for my courier this past week that's taking longer than I thought it would (—as things usually do—) and to offset that, because this blog is a bit barren and my main account went a little wild on a piccrew a couple days ago (—and still might—), I thought I might just upload some coloured sketches of our favorite evil capitalist man in different outfits. Pin-ups (—basically—). Because we need more of that (—do we?—).

So here's the first one based off of this:

I probably should have added the flowers somewhere on the design and I changed the shirt to a more simple dual toned checker (?) design. Also, keep forgetting that my default canvas color comes off darker because of the paper texture I have on top of everything, so yeah he's a bit washed out. I'll have the link to the piccrew in a reblog if y'all wanna try too.

(—also he's a skinny skinny bitch just becuz and only in my specific courier Iosif's iteration of what goes down in FNV. what he looks like at any given moment to me outside of that, be it fan fiction or actual cannon tends to bounce. It's a similar thing to the crossover I'm plotting for them with Bioshock where Andrew Ryan is wildly not himself looking. Going to post the design process for that sometime and yes I know it's silly that I hadn't done that before I made my smaugust post, but hindsight is 20/20.—)

[nor-did-i-care-to-goodbye]

# 1

Hey there House nation! So, I've been working on a little something for my courier this past week that's taking longer than I thought it would (—as things usually do—) and to offset that, because this blog is a bit barren and my main account went a little wild on a piccrew a couple days ago (—and still might—), I thought I might just upload some coloured sketches of our favorite evil capitalist man in different outfits. Pin-ups (—basically—). Because we need more of that (—do we?—).

So here's the first one based off of this:

I probably should have added the flowers somewhere on the design and I changed the shirt to a more simple dual toned checker (?) design. Also, keep forgetting that my default canvas color comes off darker because of the paper texture I have on top of everything, so yeah he's a bit washed out. I'll have the link to the piccrew in a reblog if y'all wanna try too.

(—also he's a skinny skinny bitch just becuz and only in my specific courier Iosif's iteration of what goes down in FNV. what he looks like at any given moment to me outside of that, be it fan fiction or actual cannon tends to bounce. It's a similar thing to the crossover I'm plotting for them with Bioshock where Andrew Ryan is wildly not himself looking. Going to post the design process for that sometime and yes I know it's silly that I hadn't done that before I made my smaugust post, but hindsight is 20/20.—)

[nor-did-i-care-to-goodbye]

intrigue.

credit to @adifferenttime giving me brainworms since forever with their Andrew Ryan vs Robert House analysis post. flat version of red and transparent worm version of coloured under the cut.

[nor-did-i-care-to-goodbye]

we all make choices in life, but in the end our choices make us.

Happy Birthday Mr. House! I did you instead of my homework and am going to face consequences, but it was worth it.

without text and unedited under the cut —>

[nor-did-i-care-to-goodbye]

i live in the space between the stars and the sky

credit to @crystallizedmiracle for the song inspo, it is so him, and @adifferenttime for their headcannon of Jane being black. this style of painting does absolutely nothing for her, but hopefully i'll come up with something better in the future.

original and without text under the cut.

[nor-did-i-care-to-goodbye]

no more steps back, no more set backs