#*maxon knight

[mayzie-grobe]

maddox is so displeased to be growing up. i get it, man. i really do

beginning | next

[baddieladdie]

On Love & Loss

For mature audience, TW: Grief, Fear, mild gore

Chapter 4: Rules be damned, I will help her [part 2]

Description: Paladin Danse is called to the command bridge of the Prydwen to meet with Elder Maxson

Chapter 3 - Rules be damned, I will help her [Part 1], Chapter 2 - The Paladin, Chapter 1 - The General

Please read on my ao3! - per my housekeeping notice [here]

Continue Reading - Chapter 5: Brotherhood Might

[mllemaenad]

Why so anti-Brotherhood?

At their best (Roger Maxon, Elder Lyons, Paladin Danse) they're massively effective humanitarians; even at their worst (Father Elijah, Paladin Casdin) they posess admirable traits (valour and determination); and most of the tine they are somewhere in the middle (Arthur Maxon, Knight Maximus): flawed but ultimately well-intentioned men and women trying to stop humanity from repeating its biggest mistakes.

They helped out in the early days of California, and when the NCR began to start following in the doomed footsteps of the old world, the Brotherhood tried (unsuccessfully to stop them). On the East Coast, they helped to save the Capital Wasteland from drought, and they stood up to the reckless experimentation of the Institute. In Filly, Lucy Maclean would probably have died without Maximus's intervention.

They can be unsubtle, and heavy-handed, and sometimes almost arrogant, but they ARE good people.

Hi, Anonymous person.

It feels like ... maybe you have the wrong end of the stick here? It sounds like you think I've got some kind of specific grudge against every individual member of the Brotherhood. And I ... don't. That would be silly and unfair. The Brotherhood has existed for a couple of centuries now. People are born into it, or indoctrinated as children. That's ... sort of the point Fallout: New Vegas is making with Arcade and Veronica – the forward-thinking children who have to contend with the mistakes of their very backward parents.

My issue is with the institution, not some random guy in power armour.

I'm not going to go through that whole list, because that's a lot. But – well, Maximus, since the TV show is going to be the hot topic.

Maximus is a refugee from a recently fallen civilisation who joined up with the Brotherhood of Steel because he was briefly impressed by the image of a knight in very literal shining armour, whom he saw breezing safely through the destruction of his home.

Then he found out that they are a group of militant cultists who use brutal beatings and ritual humiliation to "condition" their recruits (and possibly force them to take on new identities, as Maximus seems to be a name they "gave" him). His friend Dane is so frightened of going out on a mission with one of these knights that they actively injure themselves to avoid it, and Thaddeus's experience confirms that Maximus's treatment is completely normal.

When he is assigned to a knight, he quickly discovers that literally all of Titus's dignity comes from wearing a helmet that makes his voice sound deep and commanding, and underneath all that armour he is a bully and a coward. Not just a bully and a coward, but the kind of bully and coward who can't figure out that specifically bullying the only guy who might be able to save his life is a really fucking stupid move.

Nothing in that series made me think "Wow! The Brotherhood are good guys!" It made me think ... "Get out now, kid. Run as far and as fast as you can."

It is true that Maximus steps in to protect Lucy. It is equally true that Maximus would have very much died of dead-battery-in-soldier-suit had Lucy not intervened to help him. I'm not sitting here wishing ill on Maximus. But this ain't a story about how the Brotherhood are worthy saviours of the wasteland; it's the story about two lost kids (and one embittered pre-war Ghoul) finding their way together through hard won trust and understanding, which are pretty much always presented as the hopeful counterpoint to Fallout's grim "war never changes" theme.

I mean ... Maximus also falls uncritically in love with Vault 4 because they give him oysters and slippers. This is his standard for joining up with anywhere. He is a starving refugee whom the Brotherhood exploited.

I have no patience for The Brotherhood of Steel because they are violent, bigoted, technology hoarding isolationists whose defining trait is their extreme arrogance. They treat every problem as a nail and themselves as the hammer, and even when individuals in the organisation are actively trying to do good it's astonishing how ineffectual they are. I'm not sure they've had a relationship with another organisation they haven't poisoned.

They are actively genocidal towards Ghouls, Super Mutants and Synths. Owyn Lyons is undoubtedly one of the more open minded members, but a) one of the reasons they are able to appear as "the good guys" in Fallout 3 is because the particular nature of the FEV disaster going on in the Capital Wasteland means that there are virtually no non-hostile Super Mutants b) even Lyons' people still just shoot indiscriminately at Ghouls, an attitude that is simultaneously so morally bankrupt and tactically stupid that it makes me tear my hair out every time I think about it.

Also: The Brotherhood of Steel kills Danse. I don't think you can reasonably put Danse on your list of reasons why they're worthwhile without also noting that they, you know, send you out to murder him because he's a Synth.

And ohhhhhh they are so very bad at everything. It's actually quite difficult for me to think of things they've done that don't piss me off.

In the original Fallout they're sending aspirants off to die in The Glow because they think it's funny.

Lyons may be the (relatively) benevolent protector of the wasteland in Fallout 3, but he's also responsible for The Scourge: the wanton slaughter of half the population of the Pitt, the looting of their technology, and the kidnapping of their children. Undeniably conditions in the Pitt were awful, but this was no mercy mission: it was more of their mutants-aren't-people-and-all-your-stuff-is-ours bullshit. And they leave a guy behind who starts a raider gang and is basically the reason slavery exists in any large scale form in the Capital Wasteland. I'm not sure it's possible to fuck up worse than that.

Even in Fallout 3 ... they are not what you'd call an inspiration. Half of Lyons' forces threw a hissy fit and went off to sulk in Fort Independence because apparently obsessively hoarding laser riles is infinitely more important than helping people. By 2277 no one's even looking at the water purifier. That situation gets resolved because James finally decides to get off his arse and finish the project (I respect the man's commitment to procrastination). They don't manage to deal with the source of the Super Mutants. They basically spend a couple of decades mostly adequately guarding GNR – while places like Big Town get overrun – and tinkering with their stupid robot. They don't even fix the stupid robot. You know what the answer to fixing the stupid robot was? "Hey, did anybody think to ask Madison how the power supply works?" Useless.

In Fallout 4 they roll in and start extorting the settlers, like those people don't have enough to deal with, and the things they say if you bring Nick or Hancock with you to visit them are appalling.

I've recently been reminded of them threatening their allies at gunpoint in Fallout 76 because they think they have the right to steal everyone's research.

Okay. Enough ranting.

What's my problem with The Brotherhood of Steel? They are the walking definition of "following the doomed footsteps of the old world". They are just about Vault-Tec: military edition.

So we have to grab every schematic, every holotape, every book, and every goddamned note that holds the building blocks of the Old World before it's too late. Our Scribes will hold onto them, preserve them, perhaps even progress beyond them. And the Knights will protect them. Like a hard shell around a precious seed. One day, when the time is right, that seed will grow. And a new civilization will be born. – Fallout 76: Preservation of Technology

They think that somehow they are the true last bastion of civilisation, and that they have the right to decide when the world will begin anew. They can't even deal with the idea that there are different kinds of people in the world these days that your standard homo sapiens. They hoard, and they look backwards, and for all their self-righteous we-are-protecting-the-world propaganda, in practice all that means is that they get to keep all the big guns and threaten everyone else with them.

But civilisation has always just been people choosing to collaborate and help each other. And they have zero right to interfere with that.

Also: I think power armour is stupid and no fun at all to play in, and I am sitting here judging the Brotherhood for their obsession with the stuff. :)

[typosandtea]

Got tagged by @irradiatedpiratebooty (Thankyou!) to post some wips…. 😅

No pressure tags for: @sirmanmister @acorncoffeeformysweetheart @charliesvarietyhour @fuzzydreamin @bokatan :]

I’ve got so many abandoned sketches / concepts and very few wips that make it past that because usually by the time I’ve hashed out the sketch I’ve figured out if I like it and if i have the ability to pull off what I am picturing yet ahahah and the ones past sketch are often abandoned for ‘I cant figure out why I don’t like this’ rip

(I’ve also tacked a half written danse fic on the bottom!)

Some active wips✨ (Danse like its 2015, silly comic based on this post, sketch of Murphy and Nathan)

Some I’ll hopefully come back too??????????? (Tacky mug, Danse and Frankie in Far harbor (based on Night Letter by @/watchyourdigits, I paused for falloutober and never picked up again sorry :/ ), Sweetbrew fallout 76)

Proper abandoned rip (Danse as a dnd paladin (a request that I didn’t finish since the vibes are bad, sorry @/never-gonna-danse-again :/), and a silly comic based on this screenshot of mine)

And some writing since I’m trying to figure out how to do that yay ⤵️

(Untitled, unfinished) Danse, 2nd person, Danse is kinda oblivious, ‘How does Danse deal with loving and being truly loved by a railroad sole, even after the events of rr fallout 4.. (poorly)’

Dawes, Worwick, Brach and now Keane. All good soldiers dead too soon, too young, under your command. With a heavy heart you know now that soon you'll watch as you lose Haylen and Rhys too, before succumbing yourself to the ever growing tide of ferals that has been ebbing closer over the course of the battle, it feels like an eternity has passed since you saw Keane fall to the abominations, time seemed to have broken, though you know that its only been half an hour at most. If you survive the onslaught you'll have to organise a proper memorial.. if..

Reload. Aim. Fire. Assess the situation, update tactics. Breathe. Reload. Aim. Fire. Godless heathens! Rhys is injured! Breathe. Reload. BREATHE. Aim. Fi- Fire rains down on the ferals from outside the compound. Reload. Update tactics with Haylen, while more gunfire and another molotov begins to part the irradiated sea of scum. Aim. You catch a glimpse of them. Fire. The remaining abominations are dealt with swiftly, and while thankful for the well timed assist you can't help but to be cautious of them after all of the opposition your team has faced in the commonwealth. You ask them about themselves and they ask about you in return, thinking back you never got a straight answer out of them but no time to think about that now. Leading the way, you fill the silence with a debrief of Gladius' disastrous mission here, after all they had seemed interested in the Brotherhood, even if the sunglasses clad man with them had frowned. Arcjet brings more surprises, in both the unwelcome form of gen 1 synths, and the strangers' apparent combat effectiveness and familiarity with facing them. Between both of your combat prowess, the dilapidated laboratory is soon devoid of any synthetic 'life'.

Choosing to debrief outside you stumble through attempting to compliment their outstanding combat abilities, for a civilian. You part ways after gifting them Righteous authority and an accepted invitation to join the brotherhood, much to the dismay of their companion it seems. On the walk back to the station you realise that you feel lighter than you have in months, if just a little bit crispier too.

Months pass and things have been going well for the soldier, their already good combat skills have been steadily improving, Maxon has promoted them already! They are turning into a model knight, albeit with some unorthodox choices sometimes, but you want them to succeed you know they can!

After a particularly gruelling day of clearing out yet another super mutant nest you mutually decide to camp out in a suitably defensible old house, "you're quite the soldier" you say for not the first time, casual conversation comes easily with them, easier than it has for you in years you realise with a pang. And so you tell them about Kreig and how you are pushing them the same way he pushed you, to grow into the potential you see in them, and then you apologise. For being like Kreig, pushing too hard without explanation or reward. The soldier is silent for a while, before replying, but you see a new glimmer in their eyes, of understanding. They take first watch, and you drift off to sleep easily for the first time in recent memory.

Much progress has been made in the brotherhood's hunt for the institute, with the both or you being assigned more missions near constantly it seems someone has noticed your effectiveness as a team. You've heard whispers of rumours and caught the occasional stares drifting around the prydwen, but you pay them no mind, speculative gossip has never been of any interest to you, especially not something so obviously false as those rumours, that would be inappropriate after all. Your thoughts drift to the soldier, and realise just how much they have come to mean to you and how little you've told them anything about you, how could you have been so selfish after they have bared so much of their soul with you? Their life prewar, the death of their spouse at the hands of the cruel institute mercenary, the hunt for a way into the institute and their overwhelming fear at what they will find there. How much pressure they feel from everyone to be the perfect soldier, you sigh internally thinking about that, you owe them an apology it seems. With your mind made up now you just wait for them to return and for a suitably private moment to present itself. The opportunity arises later that day, they have just returned to the prydwen after a week away, and much to your surprise beeline straight for you with a smile before even turning in their documents or missions. They seem to be oblivious to the stares and raised eyebrows of the mess's other patrons, and a round of suitably authoritative glares ensures they will remain so. Brandis just smiles, damn him.

You warmly accept their request to join them on a routine acquisition for Haylen, but you know by now that no mission will ever be ‘routine’ with them, not that you mind the challenge. En-route to the target zone you cant stop thinking about what you are going to discuss with them, how will you open such a sensitive topic with them? Its been a substantial period of time since you’ve spoken to anyone about back then, not that you could ever forget him, after all how could you when he haunts your sleep like some sort of sorrowful spectre of loss, guilt and pain.

Lost in your ruminations as you are you nearly walk right into the Soldier as they signal ‘hold’ and ‘danger’. Snapping back to reality while cursing yourself for your inattentiveness internally, you spot the obvious threat almost immediately: a roving band of super-mutant scum and worse yet, a suicider. Outstanding. Your friend signals for stealth and for a flanking manoeuvre, you never did understand their insistence on such quiet methods when you both have access to power armour, but you’ve seen enough of their handwork enough to trust their tactics, even with their continual overestimation of your lacking stealth capabilities. As quietly and you can in full power armour you move into position on the opposite side of the pack to them, shoulder your rifle and wait for their signal. You can feel your heart rate quicken in time with the warming thrum from your charging laser rifle as the anticipation and adrenaline flips the switch to combat mode. They don’t keep you waiting long as a well placed laser volley from them sets off the unsuspecting suicider right in the middle of the pack. As the stragglers stupidly turn in the direction of the apparent danger you fire on their backs with deadly accuracy. With the element of surprise now used to its fullest, you charge into optimal combat range as one of the remaining brutes correctly picks you as the bigger threat, Good. Its better if you are the target. A few more well places shots from the both of you and its over as quickly as it started, “Outstanding!” you complement their marksmanship and tactics as they walk over. You notice of the charred abominations still writhing nearby and you put it out of its disgusting misery with a well placed stomp.

The Soldier shows you the location Haylen specified on their pip-boy, its just on the other side of this small commercial district, if the mission goes smoothly you could be back on the prydwen by nightfall, sharing a whisky to chase away the taste of messes’ latest attempt at dinner. You both freeze as you hear the distinctive sound of laser fire nearby, one look and you both move towards the commotion weapons hot. At the first sign of creepy plastic and blue lasers you charge with an “AD VICTORIAM!” but you barely get a round in before mini-gun fire tears through the remaining machines. After ensuring that they were in the clear you join the soldier as they approach the heavily armed newcomer. You meet the strangers glare with a level one of your own, before they can say anything your friend asks what they are doing here, “kicking ass, though it looks like HQ messed up scheduling again” the stranger answers. Ah this must be one of their minutemen acquaintances, you had heard they were getting more active lately, and poor organisation is expected from the civilian militia. The strangely dressed silver haired minuteman explains that the subway has been overrun with gen 1 synths, your friend offers to help, “it would be an Honor to assist in exterminating these abominations” you agree, though this earns you a strange look from the minuteman. No matter. Unbeknownst to you the Soldier and the minuteman share a significant look behind your back. No pathetic synths stand a chance against the three of you as heavily armoured as you all are, you briefly considered extending the minuteman an invitation to join the brotherhood, though you reconsider when they lament the ‘deaths’ of the machines, such a naive outlook would never be allowed to continue in the brotherhood, don't they know how dangerous synths are? With the battle dust settled, “damn!, you’re one ass-kicking angel of death” the stranger compliments your friend as you all backtrack to leave the dingy subway, “agreed, outstanding work as always” you contribute, they are positively beaming at the combined praise. The minutemen leaves with more crude but positive words, its good to see that the minutemen have at least some capable fighters on their side, it is a noble cause.

The target artifact is soon acquired with minor resistance from some more mutants, but the hour is too late to return to the prydwen now. They suggest that a settlement nearby will be a safe place to camp for the night, you agree, and privately hope that the arrangements will be secluded enough for the difficult conversation you have planned. A short walk in the dark later and you both arrive at the small nursery and are immediately accosted by a group of hysterical settlers. Eventually the soldier calms them down enough to learn the location of the kidnapped one, an older man. The mutants are just across the road as it turns out, why on earth they have tolerated living a stones throw from these monstrosities for so long is a mystery, but at least the proximity makes for a brutally quick rescue, you both use the night to you advantage and the monsters are dead before they can even take up arms. The man is injured so you carry him, trusting your friend to have your backs on the way back to the settlement. You mentally resolve to make significant note of how much mutant and synth activity there is in this region in the next mission report. With the settler returned, sustenance and a semi-secure place to set up camp for the night acquired (to be continued oops, 1/4 affinity talks written, the 4th being romance dialog)

[abraxo-official]

HOLY FUCK I JUST REALIZED ARTHRR MAXON IS NAMED AFTER KING ARTHUR

proof:

Gay ass

is in command even tho is twink

knights and shit

has fancy weapon that’s so OP

wears cool clothes

is mad at bff for lying

gay

[rosemaryreaper]

“Are we the baddies?”

Another post-Blind Betrayal snip! Set earlier in the timeline than the last one I posted. At Listening Post Bravo, Haylen has a sleep-deprived identity crisis. Danse hasn’t completely worked out the finer points of this whole “emotional support” thing, but he’s trying.

Overall not too dark, but CW for death mention and a brief implied reference to a suicide attempt related to the canon events of Blind Betrayal. So with that, uh, enjoy?

* * * *

Obviously choosing his words carefully, Danse said, “You look tired.”

“Shift change,” Haylen said, deliberately not looking up from her task. “Half the station’s knights got sent to the front. It was supposed to be temporary. Just until we ‘won’.” She made air quotes over her shoulder. “Naturally most of them got shot. Or blown up. Not Cal. He got stabbed in the neck with a flag pole, for variety. I saw his body later. Points for creativity.”

Danse made an unintelligible noise in his throat. She knew she sounded unhinged. She didn’t care.

“Of course Rhys has been going on and on about how we’ll avenge them. We’ll make sure their deaths mean something. Like that’s even possible. Like that’s supposed to make me feel better.” She wrenched the plate off the suit’s arm with more force than necessary. It hit the concrete floor with a harsh clang. “Such a waste,” she muttered, driving the screwdriver between the exposed struts. “Such a waste. Who are we even fighting? Because it’s definitely not the Institute anymore. Maxon makes it out like we’re against some great enemy of the Commonwealth, and I would almost believe that—if they weren’t farmers. Not ferals or mutants or mad scientists—honest to God farmers. We’re fighting the people of the Commonwealth to protect the people of the Commonwealth. What kind of rad-addled nonsense—”

The screw refused to budge. She hit the screwdriver against it for no reason other than to make a sound. In the corner of her eye, Danse held a hand out in offering. She ignored him and tried again.

“I’m sure there’s more to it than that,” he said.

She exhaled through her nose. “There is. Of course there is. The Minutemen helped the Railroad. The Railroad helps synths. All synths are bad. That makes the Minutemen bad. End of story. Except, I don’t know how I’m supposed to believe even that anymore when you—”

She didn’t complete her train of thought. She didn’t need to when she met his gaze on a whim, just in time to see his raised brows lower and knit together. His hand was still outstretched.

She didn’t know how close she had come to losing him, when Delaney had tracked him to this bunker. I got there in time, Delaney had said. In time. How many seconds had been left in that time? Had the gun already been in his hand, the barrel already tucked beneath his chin? The example, not the exception, he’d said. All threats had to be eliminated, even if their only crime was simply existing.

But he was Danse. He had always been, pure and simple, Danse.

“I’m rambling,” she said, unnecessarily.

He stepped into her space, pulling the screwdriver out of her grip as he did so. By virtue of being a foot shorter and half his weight, she had no choice but to move out of the way. He took over the battle with the stubborn screw, which gave way bit by bit.

“You should rest,” he said. “When you’re tired, your work has a tendency to become…” The screw twisted free. He pinched it between his thumb and forefinger. “…uh, inefficient.”

She would have preferred he’d stabbed her with the screwdriver.

Her silence must’ve registered, because he looked up from his progress with the next screw. “You know better than to take offense to that.”

She did. She hadn’t—not to anything he’d said out loud, anyway. It didn’t change the fact that she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. Or vomit. Whatever would get rid of the hot, sick feeling that writhed all the way from the pit of her stomach up to the base of her throat.

“I don’t want to be a scribe right now,” she said quietly, before her brain had the chance to manually approve the words.

Too late, she realized they wouldn’t have passed peer review—because Danse looked at her like she’d grown two extra heads. But she couldn’t take them back now.

“Is it too much to ask for a single minute as, I don’t know…just a person?”

With a rare touch of wryness, he said, “You’re asking the wrong nonhuman.”

“You’re a person.”

“Not the same way you are.”

“I’m a soldier. Lately, it hasn’t felt compatible with much else.” Less and less so each day this pointless war went on.

“What do you want me to say, Haylen?”

She wished she knew. She had the horrible suspicion words didn’t exist to describe the horrible sick feeling, never mind to ease it. So, she did what she did best: she backpedaled, and she pretended like it didn’t matter.

“Nothing. I’m exhausted and angry and grieving. I’m not thinking clearly. Forget I ever said anything.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.” He hooked the screwdriver on his belt, giving her his full attention. “I’m concerned.”

She fiddled with her glove, not trusting the wrong words to stay put if she opened her mouth too wide. “Sorry.”

“Are you thinking of quitting? Leaving the Brotherhood?”

“No.” She said it too sharply. Danse’s brows raised, even as she softened her tone. “Of course not. The Brotherhood’s family. Where would I even go?”

[rotting-steel]

Remnants of the Past

"Elder Maxon was pleased you accepted his request to talk."

"Is it really a request if it's delivered with two vertibirds aiming their guns at me?"

The unarmored knight let out a loud laugh, readjusting the gauss rifle in his lap as he sat up straight a little more, looking to Allister who stared back.

"Why the name Bastard?"

"What?"

"I mean the name, Bastard, it's clearly an alias so why choose it did you not know your fath-?"

"I knew my father. He was a good and kind man. A man with the last name Bastard."

"Fuck me, what sewer did his family decide that family name in."

"When they came from overseas."

"No shit, your family is from the East? They ever tell you what it's like over there? I mean we get our whispers now and again, but nobody that has made the trip across has ever contacted back."

"It was a beautiful place, they were from Ireland, my father often told me about how amazing it looked to simply walk throughout the green."

"Green? Did they live somewhere unaffected by the bombs or was this nuclear green?"

"There were no bombs."

"Wait, are you telling me Ireland is a fucking clean zone?"

"No."

"Then what bullshit are you spouting?"

"It was a beautiful land before the bombs fell."

"Before the.. shit is your father a Ghoul now or something?"

"No."

"Then how the f-"

The knight finally realized what Allister was getting at, it wasn't the first time he'd met someone pre-war but typically it was a filthy Ghoul or a dweller that had been put on ice. Never did he think he'd find someone that was likely neither.

"Did you ever get to see it with your father, Ireland?"

"No."

"What happened to him?"

Allister turned his head away from the knight, looking out at the water as the vertibird was quickly approaching the little blimp they called home. They were smart to have it above water this time after his previous threats, but he'd still detonate a core before ever letting them have his suit.

"Executed. In front of me."

"Jesus, I'm sorry."

"It was a long time ago."

"..How old were you?"

"Seven."

"Not that I'm complaining, but why tell me all of this? Your records say you're incredibly tight lipped about your own past, why me?"

"You told the vertibirds to not open fire, I appreciated that. Also, if Maxson doesn't keep his hands to himself, I thought you'd want the last story you ever heard to be an interesting one."

Allister looked back to the man who had gone a bit pale, after all he could now see the glowing red hot armor on his bottom right side, where a fusion core was beginning to become unstable. He seemed completely unfazed by the heat pulsing into his body and simply stood as the vertibird came in to dock.

"It was a pleasure, Knight Callus."

[random-movie-ideas]

Another ship prominently featured in the second book, "Star Keepers: Knights of the Sky," is the Shining Star. While the Arrowhead was one of your standard run-of-the-mill Star Keeper crews, one among hundreds, the Shining Star is the personal Star Keeper crew under the Mediator, the closest thing the United Worlds has to a leader. The Shining Star crew run specific high-priority missions requested by the Mediator themselves.

Lansch Neptune (Captain) - A Leadikan in his late thirties, with golden hair and bright blue eyes. He served as Mediator Tuhizo's lieutenant in the war fifteen years prior, and his service earned him notoriety among the United Worlds and a reputation among their enemies.

The Druk (First Officer) - A Kyrajelian in his late fifties, or species equivalent. He is an expatriate of his species, who had defected from them during the war, and acted as an informant for the United Worlds. He now lives in exile, under the Mediator's protection.

Jekk Zortek (Combat Officer) - A former space pirate pressganged in his youth. Rescued by Lansch during a raid on the Vanture pirates. He is a Leadikan with dark skin and glowing golden eyes.

Layt (Diplomatic Officer) - Newly promoted to the position. He is a Zacellan in his mid-twenties with bright green feathers. He takes his job very seriously and tends to be a stickler for the rules.

Delamyst (Medical Officer) - A Forres Phantom invisible except under infrared light. He is friendly and warm, and especially good with children.

Dalee Duorakis (Chief Engineer) - An orphan Human who grew up on the planet Oreja, picked up by the Vanture pirates for her engineering skills. She joined Lansch's crew at the same time as Jekk Zortek, and the pair now live together on Uinde.

Doka (Computer Officer) - A robot installed directly into the main computer station of the Shining Star ship.

Maxes Maxone (Pilot) - A hotshot celebrity pilot famous for winning multiple space races around the galaxy. After choosing to retire, he agreed to become the pilot for the Shining Star. He is a Leadikan in his early to mid-twenties, with long black hair and red eyes.

Kedu (Communications Officer) - A new robotic artificial intelligence assigned to the Shining Star crew as a test run.

Malo Neru (Weapons Officer) - A Leadikan with purple hair and gray eyes. The childhood best friend of Maxes Maxone and his copilot during his racing days. Estranged brother of Qarian Neru.

Zakari Neptune (First Auxiliary Officer) - The younger brother of Lansch Neptune on his first assignment out of the Academy, training under his brother.

The ship is lacking a second auxiliary officer as of the start of the second book. It is filled by the end of the book, but the new crewmember's identity is mildly spoiler-y, so Imma leave that out for now.

And that's my second big batch of characters. As far as story relevance, Jekk, Maxes, Lansch, and Dalee are the most important characters, with Zack, Malo, and the Druk all playing notable secondary roles.

Star Keepers

Star Keepers is a story that has lived within me most of my conscious life. It has grown and changed, as I have grown and changed, and inspired me to become a writer, so that I might share it with others.

Two books are now written, Star Keepers and Star Keepers: Knights of the Sky, with a third on the way, title pending. Self-published, currently, but I'm striving for more. I'd like to share some of that with you here.

Star Keepers is a sci-fi, similar in nature and spirit to works like Star Trek and Star Wars, which greatly influenced my formative years. It is set in the far future of our own galaxy, where multiple worlds have come together under the banner of United Worlds, mostly allowed to govern themselves, and peace kept between them by the Star Keeper Corps.

The Star Keeper Corps steps in on matters of interplanetary quarrels, attempted invasions, wars, trafficking, and so on. In most instances, a ship will be sent to intervene, this ship commanded by a crew of twelve, each specialized for a specific need of the ship. These include:

The Captain - Overall presiding officer of the vessel.

The First Officer - The captain's second, advisor, and stand-in in times of the captain's absence.

The Combat Officer - Acting head in matters of warfare. When a fight is necessary, they take command of the ship and its officers.

The Diplomatic Officer - Acting head in matters of peace. In most debacles, the diplomatic officer will be given command first, to attempt to negotiate with the aggressors.

The Medical Officer - Oversees the health and well-being of the crew and any injured in a given assignment.

The Chief Engineer - Maintains the engine of the ship and ensures its continued function.

The Computer Officer - Runs all internal systems aboard the ship and monitors any and all problems.

The Pilot - In charge of flying the ship, both in peace and wartime situations.

The Communications Officer - In charge of all communications in and out of the ship. Often a linguist, and often working in close proximity to the diplomatic officer.

The Weapons Officer - In charge of all weapons and munitions aboard the ship, and controls the weapons array in a firefight.

Two Auxiliary Officers - Fill in any need wherever one may crop up, either acting as a stand-in for an officer otherwise occupied or as an extra pair of hands. Most other officers are also trained to act as stand-ins for other roles where the need arises.

These twelve work together to handle most situations that arise, calling in more ships as needed depending on the circumstances. Multiple will be summoned together in situations of fleet-based combat.

More to come tomorrow, if you are interested. My books are currently available on Amazon.

[kdramasforever97]

Me, watching another Kdrama knowing that it will break my heart again:

[sunnyinthecommonwealth]

[mayzie-grobe]

teamwork makes the dream work (in this case leveling skills)

beginning | next

[shitposts-a-pleanty]

Right so I just imaged Elder Maxson with Yellow Diamonds face after Peridot calls her a clod but I imagine he'd have this face if/when the sole survivor says they won't kill Danse. Picture it people. It's beautiful.

[mllemaenad]

You know what? That's fair. You never ssid you condemned individual Brotherhood members, I'm sorry I assumed that.

Addressing them as an institution, however...

I think they might still be a morr admirable group than you give them credit for. Yes, they have rather brutal hazing rituals for aspirants. At best, this ensures the unqualified won't go into danger, at worst, it's abuse. Bullying is absolutely wrong, I won't defend that.

However, on the charge of bigotry, I don't think it's entirely fair. Based on comments by Knight Rhys and others, I don't think tgey hate nonhumans simply for being nonhumans, rather they see it as a quasi-religious duty to remove the consequences of technological abuse. Ghouls, Synths, Super-Mutants... they didn't arise naturally. They are permanent (un-ageing) reminders of "technology that's gone too far". Think on Arthur Maxon's words in "Blind Betrayal". Danse's existence is intolerable to him because it is symbolic of a perversion of technology. Whether it's radiation, FEV, or whatever else, the Brotherhood is committed to opposing technological abuse.

In that context, their hoarding of technology is understandable. In 2077, mankind demonstrated that it wasn't capable of using technology in a responsible manner. Heck, given what Ulysses tried to do at the Divide, and what Hank did at Shady Sands, mankind arguably STILL isn't capable.

So what alternative is there but to keep that technology safe, away from the reckless hands that would abuse it, until humanity develops the maturity and restraint to show technology its peoper reverence?

The Brotherhood is also not without its reformers. This is explicitly why Maximus chooses to return to them! He speaks with Cleric Quintus about improving the Brotherhood, making it match the idealised image he once held. He no longer holds illusions about what the Brotherhood is, but he still believes in its mission, in what it could become.

Even when they have disagreed with one another, the Brotherhood has always shared a common (noble) goal. Christine Royce and Father Elijah didn't see eye to eye on how the technologies of Big MT and the Sierra Madre should be used, but they both shared the same ultimate vision; Rodger Maxon's vision, a vision of a world where mankind worshipped technology rather than misusing it. A better world.

Hi Anonymous person.

I mean, look. I'm not the Thought Police. You're free to like any Fallout faction you like, and I'm not going to hunt you down and bother you about it. But ... I mean, you've asked, and I'm really confused about what you're saying here.

However, on the charge of bigotry, I don't think it's entirely fair. Based on comments by Knight Rhys and others, I don't think tgey hate nonhumans simply for being nonhumans, rather they see it as a quasi-religious duty to remove the consequences of technological abuse. Ghouls, Synths, Super-Mutants… they didn't arise naturally. They are permanent (un-ageing) reminders of "technology that's gone too far".

I ... don't understand why you're putting this forward as a defence? This is kind of my whole point. If some individuals in the Brotherhood were bigoted, that might reasonably make them terrible – or at least misguided – people, but it might not say anything about the institution itself.

But the genocidal impulses are built into Brotherhood doctrine. Wanting to murder groups of people because they don't fit into your vision (religious or otherwise) of a perfect world is ... bad. I mean it's very bad. It's one of the worst things you can want to do. It's very much a despairing "war never changes" thing.

I know what Arthur Maxson says. I'm not disputing that the Brotherhood really, truly believes that mass murder is a good thing. It's just that my response to that is "Go fuck yourself, Arthur."

I genuinely do not understand why you're calling my assertion of bigotry unfair. I noted that I do not like the Brotherhood because they are genocidal toward mutants and Synths, and you have agreed that they very much are, and not only that but that this is a core part of their belief system. So ... that's that.

The Brotherhood is also not without its reformers. This is explicitly why Maximus chooses to return to them! He speaks with Cleric Quintus about improving the Brotherhood, making it match the idealised image he once held. He no longer holds illusions about what the Brotherhood is, but he still believes in its mission, in what it could become.

Huh? No he doesn't. Maximus very definitely does not do that.

For much of the show, Maximus lies to other people about his name and status in order to protect himself. He also lies to himself, somewhat, about what he wants out of life.

The fact that Maximus shows little investment in the Brotherhood's ideals is one of the things that keeps him sympathetic, even when he's stomping around in power armour (he calls the Brotherhood's mission "weird" when Lucy points out the inherent contradictions).

His time in Vault 4, combined with his exposure to Lucy, allows him the space to grow as a person, and to start telling the truth. Truth works with her in a way that it did not with Thaddeus, who was never going to side with Maximus against Brotherhood guns. What Maximus really wants is Shady Sands back: specifically a world where Shady Sands was never destroyed, and he could have eaten well and gone to school and lived a completely different life. Failing that, what he wants is peace. This is what he says "explicitly": that he wants to live in peace and not go to war.

Maximus returns to the Brotherhood with a decoy head to allow Lucy to complete her mission. He does this because one of the things he has to admit to himself is that the deal he made with her was bullshit. He simply doesn't have the clout to force the issue, and the Brotherhood isn't going to help out a vault dweller having a rough week for moral reasons.

Lucy is confused by this sudden change of plans: she only knows Maximus, so she thinks the Brotherhood must be "the good guys". Both Maximus and Thaddeus know better: they've lived through Brotherhood brutality.

One key problem that both Lucy and Maximus have is that they've never really delved into what the head is for, so whether it's safe or good to deliver it anywhere in particular doesn't factor into their plans. It's just a MacGuffin to them: Lucy needs it to rescue her dad; Maximus needs it so the Brotherhood doesn't murder him.

Consequently, Maximus is at least initially fine with using his knowledge of the head's location to save his own arse – moreover, leading the Brotherhood to the head will also take him back to Lucy. He confides to his friend Dane that he intends to flee with Lucy at the first opportunity; Dane laments that they don't believe there is a way to escape. I don't know where this "Maximus enthusiastically reforms the Brotherhood" idea is coming from. In his head, Maximus is already deep underground, wearing Vault 33's fluffiest dressing gown, and never hearing about any of this crap ever again.

However, The Beginning is largely about disillusionment. For Norm and Cooper, this means engaging in some espionage to uncover Vault-Tec's evil plans – and their loved ones' complicity in those plans. For Lucy and Maximus, it means recontextualising the childhood memories that shaped them.

As Lucy listens to Moldaver's story, she reflects on her childhood memory of standing in a cornfield with her mother. She realises that she really did stand beneath the sun in a rebuilt civilisation, and that her father's insistence that she was in the vault the whole time is a lie intended to conceal his own crimes.

As Maximus listens to Quintus's horrifying little speech about conquering the wasteland, he reflects on his childhood image of the Brotherhood as heroes and saviours. In the present, the Brotherhood has just forcibly occupied the town of Filly (this is bad!), has come very close to summarily executing him (also not what you'd call good!) and is about to force him to go to war against a group of people who have not at any point in the series threatened them, purely because they have some tech the Brotherhood wants (really fucking awful, if you think about it!).

If Maximus has any mission at this point beyond getting the hell out of there and finding Lucy – it is wresting control of the cold fusion technology from the Brotherhood's hands. Because Moldaver bequeaths her cause to him with her dying breath.

What do you suppose your Brotherhood would do with infinite power? Maybe you can stop them. Maybe you can't. Maybe all you can do is try. – Lee Moldaver, Fallout: The Beginning

Maximus is a child of Shady Sands. He's a citizen of the NCR. The expression on his face when the Brotherhood vertibirds open fire on the people fleeing across the compound is understandably appalled. He attacks Hank when he learns what he did to his home. Moldaver knows none of this. She just knows the expression on Maximus's face when the lights go on across the city – and she reaches out to him because that's enough to hope.

So ... no? Really no. Maximus does not explicitly return to the Brotherhood to embrace Quintus's bullshit.

Even when they have disagreed with one another, the Brotherhood has always shared a common (noble) goal. Christine Royce and Father Elijah didn't see eye to eye on how the technologies of Big MT and the Sierra Madre should be used, but they both shared the same ultimate vision; Rodger Maxon's vision, a vision of a world where mankind worshipped technology rather than misusing it. A better world.

I mean ... Dead Money is not a story about rational people making good choices. I don't think the "unhealthy obsession DLC" is a great example of anything but what not to do. Christine is a tragic figure. Her absolute best ending leaves her as something that is almost literally the ghost of an old-world film star, forever haunting the Sierra Madre. She's also clearly paralleling the fate of her lost love, Veronica: Veronica is keenly aware that the Brotherhood's ideology leads to an ugly dead end, but she can neither change them nor escape them and becomes a kind of ghost herself.

These are not pro-Brotherhood stories.

But I mean ... I'm not trying to somehow dispute that many Brotherhood members believe to some extent in Brotherhood ideals. I know how indoctrination works.

You're assuming the "noble" part. What I am saying is that I don't believe the Brotherhood's goals are noble, good, or helpful. I think they should stop doing what they're doing. I think the hoarding and the dogmatism and the genocide are ... well, wrong. I don't think Roger Maxson has a "better world". I think he and his men couldn't handle the guilt of being involved in unethical experiments themselves, and the Brotherhood has just been reacting badly to their collective trauma across generations.

It's not that I think the Brotherhood of Steel is absolutely incapable of change: in theory they could stop hoarding and murdering and generally being arseholes. But then they would not really be the Brotherhood of Steel anymore. And I think it is unlikely that that will happen, because the kinds of problems they cause are useful for the sorts of stories the Fallout series wants to tell.

So I'm probably stuck with them for the foreseeable future. And I still have no time for any of them.

[typosandtea]

IN THE PROCESS OF REDOING MY BLOG NAVIGATION, TAG SYSTEM AND PINNED POST!!

Hello there! I'm new here and it's been great so far!

Silly drawings! sometimes silly simple animations. I like to draw! NOW ALSO CROCHET YAY!

Mostly Fallout 4 at the moment

Always up for friendly interaction/asks/tag games/etc.!!

Fallout simple drawing requests: OPEN

The tag for finished requests is #typos drawing requests

Thanks for visiting!! Reblogs blog for most of the reblogs @typosandtea-reblogs

List of posts under cut :)

Newest posts added to the bottom of each list!

Various other sketches and drawings not listed here under the tag “#typos daily sketch” :)

\/\/\/ CROCHET \/\/\/

Finished objects:

Garchomp

Prototype Person 0.1, 0.2, 0.3

Prototype Person 0.4

Beotodus: keeper of the crochet

Patterns (coming soon!)

\/\/\/ NOT FALLOUT DRAWINGS \/\/\/

Tea-51b

Tea-52b (gif)

(Dwarf fortress) Raven Man swordsman stuck in a tree (Story Video)

Drawing is too slow for Brain Rot (Gif)

Dragon

Noir Coulson (following this style tutorial by Rad-Roche)

APRIL FOOLS 2024 BOOP!!

\/\/\/ FALLOUT DRAWINGS \/\/\/

Others OCs:

Henry Wilde (Fallout 4 sosu, @ Never-gonna-danse-again)

Falloutober 2023:

The Prompts

1. War Never Changes

2. Neon (gif/video)

3. Distant Glow

4. Daddy-O

5. This Thing Called Defeat

6. Monument

7. Midnight Ride

8. Faith, Hope & Love

9. Butcher Pete (tw blood)

11. Fallen Star (gif)

10. Terminal (gif)

12. Rust

13. Civilization (gif)

16. Lacrimae rerum

19. Feral

21. Mutation

28/31. Cold Dark / This Little Light (tw drowning)

General Fallout:

(Trick or treat 23) perfectly preserved pie

(Trick or treat 23) mirelurk snack cakes

Deathclaw running (gif)

X01 helmet looks like a weird bug to me

Fallout 4:

Everybody Gives Codsworth a Hat right?

Synth perspective

Knight-Captain Cade’s had enough.

Out of mr handy fuel

Vampire sole survivor (silly)

Winterised Paladin

Even Cozier Paladin

Gage’s New Year’s resolution

Let the old man sleep. Please.

The commonwealths most serious soldiers

X6 can’t find deacon, he’s too generic

If Cutler was around in 2287

Fallout 4 companions paint when I’ve reached max affinity with them:

Piper

Fallout 4 Reblogs:

Danse through the wall

Minutemen Radroach Settlers

Kellogg is the most judgemental guest

Stealth Danse

Maxon surprised by pikachu

Danse is Kenough

X6 thinks he’s cool

Danse being a menace

Val is now a vertibird decal (wastelandhell’s oc)

[zirawrites]

I love your blog and I'm so excited to see some of your new work. And to fulfill your let's say holiday wish from your followers, I've got the perfect reaction scenario. Do you think you could do the companions and sole having their first new years eve kiss? Thank you in advance 💜💖

Cait: Cait and Sole had gone absolutely feral at the Third Rail for Goodneighbor’s annual New Year’s Eve party. Sole jumped on Hancock’s back multiple times while he danced as Cait cheered them on between gulps of her beer. The two hopped over the bar and attempted to drag a squealing Whitechapel Charlie from behind it. Their laughter and drunken serenading drowned out Magnolia’s soft jazz. Then the unthinkable happened: Hancock kicked them out of the bar, chuckling as he told them to sober up and try again next year. 

“I can’t believe it!” Cait was more amused than frustrated, especially since the mayor let her keep her drink. “I don’t think anyone’s ever been thrown outta a business in Goodneighbor, except if they were trying to murder a fella, I suppose.”

As the two stumbled to the Hotel Rexford, Sole heard a muffled countdown coming from every building. They stopped in the center of town as settlers got down to the final numbers.

When a chorus of Happy Near Year! rung out around them, Sole turned to Cait and pressed their lips firmly against her own. The kiss turned into a giggling, tipsy mess; one neither would wholly remember nor forget come morning.

Curie: Curie was enamored by human traditions, so Sole couldn’t turn down her request to go to a real New Year’s Eve party. They chose the tame one thrown by Preston and fellow Minutemen at the Castle. It was a night of swing music, food vendors from local settlements and -- for the more daring -- moonshine Sturges had made in a Sanctuary bathtub.

When the countdown ringing in the new year ended, Curie pressed upwards on the tips of her toes and gave Sole a chaste peck on their lips.

“That is how the tradition goes, yes?” She was blushing, and Sole couldn’t help but push a strand of her short hair back behind her ear. “I’ve been researching, of course. I did not want to ruin anything for you.”

Sole reassured Curie that she could never be the cause of any ruin, and returned the kiss.

Danse: New Year’s Eve parties were always a little chaotic aboard the Prydwyn. It was one of the rare times Maxon let recruits let loose. Child scribes who’d never stayed up past their bedtimes snuck quick sips of wine from the kitchen. Someone had stolen gauze from the medbay and wrapped it around a suit of power armor, hanging colorful ornaments off it as if it were a Christmas tree. Even Knight Rhys had unclenched his personality long enough to dance with Scribe Haylen.

Danse seemed tense about the festivities. He wanted to participate, but felt it his duty to stay vigilant and sober in case of an attack. Sole coaxed him onto the makeshift dance floor with a promise they would de-decorate the holiday power armor before Maxon saw.

The two danced all the way up until the final countdown, and even then Danse stayed chaste and cordial. They rung in the new year like everyone else. It was only when Sole was taking the gauze down that Danse turned them around for a deep, heartfelt kiss.

When both finally pulled away, Danse’s usually furrowed brow was miraculously smooth. He seemed the lightest he’d been since Sole had met him. “Heard that was a pre-war tradition, but I couldn’t remember when I was supposed to do it. I hope I didn’t upset you.”

Sole laughed and tossed the spool of gauze at his chest.

Deacon: Desdemona had finally, finally let Deacon and Tinker Tom plan a New Year’s Eve bash -- under the guise it wouldn’t turn out like their Christmas party three years ago; something neither would elaborate on for Sole. Regardless, HQ was decorated in streamers and confetti and other paper products no one was sure how the men got their hands on. They attached a tray of drinks to PAM’s robotic pinchers for agents to grab throughout the night. Radio reception was never great underground, but where the songs cut off, Tinker Tom was quick to jump in with his own off-key interpretation.

Once Sole arrived, they had Deacon’s undivided attention. He lavished them with compliments on their elegant pre-war attire (”And hardly any holes! Did you dress up just for lil ‘ol me?”) and stories of what a bonafide New Year’s Eve party used to look like (”So Tom and I got it pretty right? Glad those ten caps I spent on ‘Anyone Can Throw a Party’ paid off.”)

By the end of the night there wasn’t a sober agent in the church. Everyone counted down the new year with giddy elation, swinging glass flutes and the miracle streamers around the room. Then they erupted in cheers, and Sole looked at Deacon with a warm smile that said he had planned one hell of a party.

Deacon leaned down and quickly pecked Sole on the lips. “For good luck, right?”

Sole rolled their eyes. They knew Deacon understood what the pre-war tradition meant. But he had been so sweet that night that Sole only wrapped him in a tight side-hug as they watched the other agents drunkenly celebrate.

Hancock: Hancock wasn’t just mayor of Goodneighbor; he was the self-appointed party prince of the Commonwealth. The Third Rail always threw a electric party of live music, free-flowing drinks and rowdy patrons. Half the bar didn’t even understand the pre-war tradition and just used it as an excuse for a generous serving of booze. But Hancock knew Sole would find the party important -- if not just for sentimental reasons -- and endeavored to make this the best bash yet.

Sole somehow found themselves as the star of the party. Magnolia sang any song they wanted. Whitechapel Charlie never charged them for drinks. Patrons moved from their seats if Sole lingered near their table for too long just in case they wanted to sit.

When Sole was finally able to pull Hancock away from the festivities, they asked why Goodneighbor’s settlers -- some of the baddest, seediest drifters in the ‘Wealth -- were being nice to them.

“It’s cause I told them to, Sunshine.” Hancock’s smile dominated his face, pressing the apples of his cheeks so high that Sole almost missed his wink. “Just wanted tonight to be perfect for you. I’m sure the holidays make you miss home.”

Sole shrugged dismissively, making Hancock’s grin momentarily falter. “Well, you’re missing one tradition. And that one’s my favorite.”

“Anything you want, Sole.” Hancock snaked a hand around their waist. “Just name it.”

Sole cut across the small distance between them with a kiss. Hancock chuckled into their mouth, and Sole finally pulled back with an equally as large smile.

MacCready: Sole had planned a quiet New Year’s Eve in Sanctuary, and MacCready wasn’t complaining. He usually liked celebrating the holiday somewhere boozier like the Third Rail or the Dugout Inn, but that was when he was a lone wolf with only himself to watch out for. Lounging on the couch nibbling on snacks Preston helped bake and watching Sturges unsuccessfully try to fix the radio was far more relaxing. And he knew Sole would stay safe... as long as they stayed away from the cookies Preston had overbaked.

“Having fun?” Sole curled up next to MacCready and handed him a Nuka Cola. “We ran out of booze when Cait got here. Sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for.” MacCready took the bottle but set it on the table in front of them. Then the radio kicked on -- much to Sturges amusement -- and MacCready stood to offer his hand. “Care to dance?”

The two spun in slow circles across the crumbling, war-torn living room of Sole’s old house. They danced past empty picture frames that used to hold photographs of Sole and their spouse cradling baby Shaun. Over the shredded carpet where Sole unboxed Codsworth over 200 years ago.

None of it mattered. They had each other, and that was plenty to celebrate.

At the end of the song, MacCready leaned in and kissed Sole. It was a soft, romantic kiss just like in the pre-war movies. And it was perfect.

“Couldn’t wait until the countdown,” MacCready chuckled. “Do I still get another chance in the new year?”

Preston: Preston wanted New Year’s Eve to be perfect for Sole. Not only were they the Minutemen’s most hardworking general and therefore deserving of some appreciation, but Preston’s biggest crush. He spent days finding something sparkling for Sole to toast to (albeit it was boozy Nuka Cola Quantum). Then several more days hunting for salvageable champagne flutes. By the time he had pieced together a charcuterie board of mirelurk meat, Takahashi’s noodles and Sugar Bombs covered in syrup, Sole hadn’t seen him since Christmas.

When they entered their quarters to see the food spread out across their table, Preston’s face was blushed nearly purple. “I thought you deserved a break,” he admitted sheepishly. “I know you like to work through the holidays. Someone has to, I guess. But if you wouldn’t mind counting down the new year with me tonight...”

Sole was happy to spend the evening drinking and dancing to Diamond City radio. Travis eventually rang in the new year while Preston and Sole were sitting on the desk littered with the remnants of Preston’s food spread. Sole leaned over and kissed Preston as soon as the croaky-voiced DJ said happy new year. When they pulled away, Preston ran his hand rhythmically across Sole’s back.

“Well, happy new year to you, too, General.” Then he leaned in for a second kiss.

Piper: Piper was awoken by someone tugging on her arm. She jumped upright in her chair with a gasp as the stranger shoved a glass of wine in her hand, then ran across the newsroom to turn up the Diamond City station on the radio.

“Wake up, Piper!” It was Sole, who was enthusiastically waving their own wine in the air. “You fell asleep editing again. You were going to miss the countdown.”

Piper pulled off a paper that had stuck to her forehead and tossed it unceremoniously to the floor. “You nearly scared me to death, Blue.” Her voice was tense but appreciative. She would have hated to miss the weird pre-war tradition her and Nat usually celebrated together. Her sister had fallen asleep on the couch hours ago.

“I think you mean you’re welcome.” Sole hopped themselves to sit on Piper’s desk, brushing their knees against the side of her chair. “Need to get your responses checked like Takahashi? I think your malfunctioning.”

Instead of a retort, Piper listened to Travis count down the new year. When it ended, the two friends both screamed happy new year! and clinked their glasses together, downing the respective drinks in one long gulp.

“What other traditions did you like to do back in the day?” Piper stood to refresh her drink, and Sole took her collar to pull her closer. They leaned upwards to catch her lips in a soft kiss, only pulling away when Piper placed her hand on their knee.

“Too much?” Sole chuckled and played with the stem of their glass. “That’s something couples do to ring in the new year. I know we’re not officially dating but --”

They were cut off by Piper returning the kiss.

Nick: Nick was an old soul, so there wasn’t any doubt that he wouldn’t have planned the perfect evening on New Year’s Eve. He decorated the agency and opened it to a small group of friends in Diamond City including Ellie, Piper, Nat, Vadim and -- of course -- Sole. The group drank and danced to the radio, swapping stories of what antics everyone had gotten up to over the past year.

Nick eventually pulled Sole aside and offered to fetch them a drink, which Sole politely declined. “I haven’t seen enough of you tonight,” they admitted, nudging his side with their elbow and eliciting a chuckle from the detective. “But don’t get me wrong: you’re a perfect host. I could have never pulled something like this together.”

“Perish the thought, Sole.” He took their hand and brought their knuckles to his lips. “You can do anything.”

“Can I get a New Year’s kiss?” Sole batted their eyelashes in a comically innocent way. 

Nick leaned forward to give them a chaste one, but Sole wrapped their arms around his neck and pulled him into something deeper. He chuckled against them, eventually pulling away when he could hear snickering from the other guests. “Weren’t we supposed to wait for the countdown?”

Sole shook their head. “New world, new rules.”

X6-88: As usual, X6 was leaned against a far wall observing the crowd instead of partaking in it. He had no desire to drink to the new year; as far as he was concerned, every day not working towards humanity’s future was time wasted. People’s incessant need to mark every milestone irked him, and he showed it by brooding far away from the New Year’s Eve party.

Sole saddled up beside him. His posture slightly deflated as he relaxed into Sole’s familiar presence. “So, what’s your New Year’s resolution? An old pre-war tradition. You vow to make some big change to your life and accomplish it by the end of the year.”

X6 took a moment to consider. “Improve the Institute by catching runaway synths.”

Sole shook their head. “No, it has to be something personal. For example, I made a pact with Preston to lose five pounds.” They slapped their hip, and the leathery sound brought a chuckle to X6′s lips. “Been hitting the Sugar Bombs too hard.”

“Your health is in an optimal state,” X6 assured. “But I suppose my resolution would be to... act on more impulse. Too much calculation can slow anyone down.”

“Trust your gut!” Sole encouraged, melding closer to him on the wall. “What’s your gut saying now?”

X6 leaned down and gave Sole a quick kiss. It was over nearly before it began, leaving Sole giddy and lightheaded. “Partake in more traditions,” he teased.

[viridian-forest-collective]

Blog Intro

Ok guys I may or may not have done this a while ago but here we go!

Hi I'm Chan! Here's the current frequent frontiers/hosts: Chan, Felix, Chorok, Casper, Michael, Sam Colby. There's a few more but eh.

System name: Viridian Forest Collective or Forest Collective

Body age: 19

Number of headmates: Unknown but its a lot

General system pronouns: all of them switching it up is appreciated

Collective gender: Fluidflux

Collective sexuality: Omnisexual, demiromantic

System hobbies: art, gaming, writing, learning random things, rick riordan, wings of fire, dragons, diy, witchcraft, anime, vikings, greeks, romans, etc.

Some of our system blogs: @seaweed-brain-bullshit, @mythomagic-nerd, @doctors-orders-death-boy (so far only the pjo fuckers have decided they want personal spaces on tumblr) (in the process of giving the moon boys a blog)

The other blogs we have that aren't system based are: @viridian-beetle (art blog), @forest-finds (forest themed and witchcraft central), @kip-kinstar (star wars but mainly mando blog)

See here for our stance on endos and syscourse

In terms of canonmates, doubles are welcome, we are looking for anyone and we mean anyone from the following sources:

-> Riordanverse

-> FNAF

-> Wings of Fire

-> The Selection

-> Throne of Glass

-> Divergent

-> Spiderverse

-> Moon Knight

-> The Mummy (original 2 movies)

-> The Stanley Parable

DNI: anti-mogai, anti-lgbtqia+, anti-agere (and the pet one), anti-pagan, anti-system, anti-fictive, anti-xenopronouns, anti-nounself pronouns, anti-neopronouns, anti-omni/pan, anti-ship, etc. You all know who you are.

Here is who we have from these sources:

-> Riordanverse

-> Percy Jackson

-> Annabeth Chase

-> Grover Underwood

-> Nico di Angelo

-> Will Solace

-> Hazel Levesque

-> Jason Grace

-> FNAF

-> Glamrock Freddy

-> Glamrock Bonnie

-> Glamrock Chica

-> Roxanne Wolf

-> Montgomery Gator

-> Sundrop

-> Moondrop

-> Adult Gregory

-> Child Gregory

-> Michael Afton

-> Phone Guy

-> Wings of Fire

-> Deathbringer

-> Glory

-> The Selection

-> Maxon

-> Throne of Glass

-> Dorian

-> Divergent

-> Four

-> Spiderverse

-> Peter Parker (ultimate spiderman)

-> Harry Osborn (mix ultimate spiderman and amazing spiderman 1)

-> Venom (ultimate spiderman)

-> Moon Knight

-> Marc Spector

-> Steven Grant

-> Jake Lockley

-> The Mummy (original 2 movies)

-> Tauhotep (oc)

-> The Stanley Parable

-> Stanley

-> The Narrator