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ghoul-foolery · 7 months ago

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Dirty Windows | 24

Hancock x Nora - A Fallout 4 Soulmate AU

Fic Summary:

Hancock never thought he would find his soulmate. Once a common occurrence, soulmates turned into a bit of a rarity after the bombs dropped. It was to be expected when there was an influx of people getting shot in the face on a daily basis. So when Hancock discovered that he had a soulmate he was ecstatic; all of the people in the Commonwealth, and he was one of the lucky few.

Too bad his soulmate didn't want anything to do with him.

[ 1 ] <- [ 19 ] [ 20 ] [ 21 ] [ 22 ] [ 23 ] - [ 25 ]

Two weeks had come and gone since Nora had taken up residence at the Slog, and she was sure that if she ever had it her way she’d never leave. The people were so willing to accept her into their social circles, and that in itself was borderline mind blowing. Striking up conversation with the Sanctuary crew felt so stilted, so forced. Perhaps it was because the expectations for her in Sanctuary were so high. The ghouls in the Slog didn’t expect anything out of her, but they were more than willing to teach valuable post-war life skills and Nora was an incredibly eager student. In the midst of it all, under Arlen’s gentle guidance, Nora was learning how to build a water purifier.

All it took was a passing complaint about Sanctuary and the water purifier debacle; about how they seemed to assume she just had that sort of mechanical knowledge, or would be able to magically procure one. It was just some idle venting as she visited with the older ghoul in his workshop; nothing more, nothing less. Arlen had hummed thoughtfully, then promptly guided her out of his workshop, telling Nora to go offer Jones and Holly some help in the garden. It was a couple hours later, as she was chopping tatos for dinner, when Arlen emerged from his workshop. He called her name, and once she reached him, he passed her a slip of ancient notebook paper. It was a schematic, a blueprint. In clean writing off to the side, he listed the required components, and what sort of machinery she could dig around to find them.

“If you want to get the parts, we can work on it together,” he had told her. His gentle smile was so fatherly, so caring. Nora couldn’t help it, she pulled the man into a tight hug.

It felt as if Nora had cashed in every ounce of good karma she had saved up. No one in the Slog would accept any compensation for their time, and tutelage. No one would accept caps as a thanks. It didn’t feel like it was nearly enough, but all they would take from her was her gratitude and on some days they made that seem as if it were too much. Or, Holly would just get a little fed up with all the thank yous, and would tell Nora to stop saying it…

Though Nora still experienced moments of extreme guilt when she realized how little progress she had made when it came to finding her boy, it was quickly quelled when she reminded herself that she didn’t know how to survive on her own. If she managed to find Shaun, she wouldn’t know how to take care of him, she barely knew how to take care of herself. Nora didn’t want to be the reason why her son fell ill, or went hungry. So she learned what plants were acceptable to eat. She learned how to harvest vegetables, and razor grain. She learned how they stored their meat, and how to keep it properly preserved. And with Arlen Glass’ help, she would learn how to create a source of clean drinking water. Baby steps were still steps.

After accepting the blueprint from Arlen, Nora finally ventured away from the Slog to hunt down the supplies that she needed to build the water purifier. Every morning, after helping with breakfast, Nora would set out to scrounge up whatever scraps and machinery that she could. She siphoned gasoline, she hoarded fan belts, screws, and bolts. She would haul bags of gear back to the Slog, depositing them on Arlen’s workbench before setting out again. In the evenings, after she got back, Nora would help with dinner and then take a shift at evening watch. In the midst of it all, as she worked, as she traveled, her and John got to know each other.

They would go through daily idle chatter (”How was your day, dear?”), then continue on with any number of things. They covered a vast spectrum of topics, from favorite colors and foods, to more philosophical things. John divulged childhood memories, and awkward teenage experiences, and Nora would follow suit. As the days went on, Nora found herself becoming incredibly fond of the man. He was charismatic, and he was a whole lot smarter than he gave himself credit for. He was loyal to the people he considered his, and as loyal as he was he was even more protective. Nate would have loved him. The more Nora got to know John Hancock of Goodneighbor, the more certain she was that Nate and John would have been fast friends. They were both stubborn and loyal to a fault. They were both strong, and capable men, and even though she had only known John for a short while, she knew without a doubt that both men would bend over backwards to make her happy. John had helped her with so many things. She owed him so much.

Bit by bit, she gathered the things on Arlen’s list and, after days of meticulous searching, she had everything that they needed. She stopped her daily wandering, and took up a spot in Arlen’s workshop where, together, they started constructing the water purifier.

“Sounds like all he wants from you is a chance,” Arlen said, passing her a pair of needle nose pliers. “When you’re ready, I think you should give that to him.”

Arlen Glass had become her best friend, her confidant. After giving her tea on her first night he had somehow become a post-apocalypse father figure. His guidance helped Nora rediscover her confidence.

“Nate would want me to be happy, but – Ouch!” she recoiled, eyeballing a small bleeding cut on her finger. Nora leaned in close to the chassis of the under-construction water purifier. She nearly stuck her head inside as she searched for what had done the damage. “But I’m… afraid, I guess?”

“Afraid of being happy, when you think you shouldn’t be allowed to?”

Nora’s eyes shot to Arlen’s in surprise. Arlen was usually a little more gentle with his advice. He would pass her the seeds, but he would let her plant and sow things on her own. He wasn’t typically so blunt, but having heard Arlen’s story, she understood where he was coming from. He’d had a family, a beautiful one; but he had sacrificed happiness for work, and then he lost everything.

“Well when you say it like that, it sounds dumb,” she grumbled almost petulantly. She turned her attention back to their project.

Arlen chuckled in that airy way of his as he said, “You smile when you talk about Nate and John, you know. I don’t know if you’ve noticed.

Nora’s gaze tore away from her project yet again. Arlen had settled back in the old chair in his workshop. It was his typical sitting place whenever he read his morning paper. Instead of reclining back in the chair he was leaning forward, knees on his elbows, with a small, knowing smile.

“You’re a smart woman, Eleanor. You should know that you wouldn’t be betraying Nathan by finding happiness again. If he was anything like you’ve said, he would want you safe, and happy. He’d want you to love and be loved.”

There was a sudden tightness in Nora’s throat. She did her best to swallow it down, and turn her attention back to the purifier but Arlen was suddenly at her side, cupping her face in his hands. They were hearty, weathered and overly textured, but they were also warm and grounding.

“It’s okay for you to be happy, Eleanor,” he said it slowly, deliberately. “It’s okay.”

Nora’s hands rested over Arlen’s as she warbled, dangerously close to crying, “What if I fall in love with him and—“

“Honey, I think you might have already. Even if only a little bit.” The statement was like a kick to the gut, delivered with a smile. It knocked Nora’s world off its axis. Arlen continued, “If there is anything that can be learned from loss, it’s that you need to love the people in your life as strongly, and as fiercely as you can, because we never know when those special people will be taken away. Just remember, he will never replace Nate. You have a big heart, Eleanor. There is space for John in there, too.”

“Okay,” she said, her voice tight. That’s all she said because that’s all she could muster.

“I’m not saying that you need to hurry up and stop mourning; and I’m not saying that you need to hurry up and fall in love.” The old ghoul placed a kiss to the crown of her head before leveling his eyes with hers. “But you need to know that it’s okay when you do. Grief doesn’t have an expiration date. If you wait for it to go away naturally, you’ll be waiting for forever and a day.”

“So it never goes away? It’s… This? Forever?” The guilt for growing fond of another man, the feeling of replacing someone she loved, the lingering dredges of hurt that hung around in her chest.

Arlen withdrew, turning his eyes to the in-progress water purifier, and then the pieces of an old Giddyup Buttercup. “They say that time heals all wounds, but it doesn’t. It just makes it easier to deal with.”

“Hey, smoothskin!” It was Wiseman’s voice, calling her from the front of the pool house.

Nora closed her eyes, swallowing at the lump in her throat, “Yeah?” She called out as Arlen picked up the needle nose pliers, and took over the task at hand.

“You got a visitor!”

The frown that had been marring Nora’s features deepened. Damn near every single person she knew who would want to visit her already lived in the Slog. Unless it was Preston for some reason. Or John. She was too aware of the way her heart leapt. Slowly, she peaked out of one of the broken windows to get eyes on the visitor. From a glance, it wasn’t anyone that she recognized from Sanctuary, and it most definitely wasn’t John. Nora’s hand immediately began to drift down to the pistol holstered at her thigh.

“Go on,” Arlen said. “I’ll finish up this bit, and we can pick it up later.”

“Arlen?”

“Mm?” He hummed, haltingly.

She placed a hand on his forearm, leaning in to kiss the older man’s cheek. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

He tossed his head and said again, “Go on.”

With no small amount of hesitance, she left Arlen’s shop, stepping out into the early evening air. It had been a warm day, enough so that Nora had unzipped the top half of her vault suit in favor of adorning an oversized t-shirt. The arms of the suit were tied securely around her waist, and her hair was tied back into a ponytail. Her hands were greasy, scraped, and she could make out the dark smear of oil across her nose. She wasn’t really dressed for company, but she supposed that she never would be.

Stepping around the building, Nora cleared her throat. The newcomer turned to face her. A smoothskin, like her. He wore an old conductor styled hat, a long coat, and he had a rifle hanging off his shoulder from a makeshift sling that looked to be fastened from an old belt. As she grew closer, she noted that he was handsome. Cheekbones that she could cut herself on, a proud, straight nose. Tanned, blue eyes, and a confident smile.

“Well,” he said at length, “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

Nora held her distance, fishing an old rag from her pocket so she could start cleaning her hands. The tenuous grasp on her emotions turned steely as she stared the stranger down. No one would know that she had been on the brink of crying (ugh, again) thirty seconds ago. She eyed him warily, “Do I know you?”

His smile grew, “No. But I know you.”

The man’s eyes followed her hand as it dropped down to her side, resting casually by her pistol. Off to the side, she could see Wiseman tense and reach for her own weapon.

Suddenly, the man laughed, “Calm down, girl! Shi-oot, I’m a friendly.” He’d almost said ‘shit’ but he had redirected. She didn’t know why, but that seemed important. She’d stow that away for later.

“You’ll have to forgive me, but I don’t believe you.”

“Why don’t you, uh…” his index finger tapped his temple.

At this point, the Slog ghouls knew that Nora had a soulmate. It was hard to keep things secret when the space was so open, and communal. Especially when they noticed just how much she seemed to talk to herself. She couldn’t find the ability to look any of them in the eye and just insist that she was a touch crazy.

Without breaking eye contact with the stranger, Nora opened her end of the bond and reached. “John?”

The answer was immediate, ”What’s crackin’, doll fa – shit, is that MacCready? Fuck, he works fast…”

“You know him?” she asked, feeling the tension drain from her shoulders. She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath. Wiseman waved his hand, catching her attention. He made a gesture, indicating that he was going to be inside. She nodded, mouthing a silent ‘thank you’.

”Yeah, I know him. He’s out that way runnin’ an errand or two for me. I didn’t expect for him to get to you for another week or so.”

“Wh-why didn’t you tell me that he was coming? I… God, I was getting freaked out.” It could have been another one of those sickos from the drive-in. It could have been someone much, more worse.

“Easy, angel,” the man known as MacCready drawled. “I told you, I’m a friendly.”

”Don’t you call her that, you little shit.”

Nora snorted, then immediately covered her mouth to stifle her laughter. She wanted to be irritated, dang it. The second he had made arrangements for someone to come meet her, she should have known about it. She composed herself, dropping her hand. “He said your name was MacCready?”

“Yep! RJ MacCready, and you must be Nora,” he held out his hand, and Nora reached to shake it. Only for her hand to be lifted, she watched with almost wide eyes as he pursed his thin lips to plant a kiss to her skin.

”Goddammit, MacCready!”

MacCready stopped, a mere centimeter from making contact, and then he snickered, giving her hand a firm shake. He was laughing, eyes glittering with his amusement. He seemed to be banking on John seeing the interaction, and had been aiming to irritate Nora’s soulmate for fun.

”Tell that little fucker that he ain’t gettin’ paid for shit!”

It didn’t matter how much she wanted to be angry, she couldn’t even manage a bit of irritation to shoot in John’s direction.

“He mad?” MacCready asked, his smile stretched from ear-to-ear..

Maybe it was the total relief that she felt, but Nora couldn’t help but laugh as she replied, “He seems to be a little annoyed, yeah.”

“Awesome.”

Tag List: @takottai / @a-little-pebbl / @yamatra

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camisoledadparis · 3 months ago

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THIS DAY IN GAY HISTORY

based on: The White Crane Institute's 'Gay Wisdom', Gay Birthdays, Gay For Today, Famous GLBT, glbt-Gay Encylopedia, Today in Gay History, Wikipedia, and more … January 30

January 30, 1965

Historical Context

Winston Churchill's funeral was on a scale befitting his place in history as the prime minister who guided Britain to victory during World War II. He died on January 24, 1965, having lived to the age of 90. The government had been planning extensively for his funeral in the years before his death, and it had to be revised several times as Churchill kept living, leading Lord Mountbatten to remark that "the pallbearers kept dying and Churchill kept living." It became the largest state funeral in history. Representatives from over 120 countries attended the ceremony in London, including Queen Elizabeth II, for whom Churchill was reportedly her favorite prime minister. The funeral itself was watched by 350 million people on television. After his death on January 24, the Queen sent his wife Clementine Churchill a letter saying "The whole world is the poorer by the loss of his many-sided genius while the survival of this country and the sister nations of the Commonwealth, in the face of the greatest danger that has ever threatened them, will be a perpetual memorial to his leadership, his vision and indomitable courage". Vast numbers of dignitaries attended the funeral, including wartime colleagues Dwight D. Eisenhower and Charles de Gaulle as well as several past British prime ministers.

1859 – Edward Martyn was born on this date. (d.1923); Martyn was the first president of Sinn Féin, the Irish republican movement's political party, which he co-founded with Arthur Griffith, serving from 1904 to 1908. He was homosexual and the son of a wealthy Catholic family from Tillyra Castle in County Galway.

A pillar of the Celtic Renaissance, in 1899 Martyn co-founded, with the poet W.B. Yeats, what became Ireland's famous national theater, The Abbey, the Irish Literary Theatre (1899), which was part of the nationalist revival of interest in Ireland's Gaelic literary history. He was a cousin and friend to George Moore, the Irish novelist, though their relationship was often antagonistic.

Violently opposed to British rule in Ireland, he was the center of a court case in 1905 as the result of an off-the-cuff remark in which he stated that "All Irishmen who join the English army ought to be flogged". He died in 1923, unmarried, and after donating his body to science, was buried at his own request in a pauper's grave.

Martyn was outed by his friend George Moore, a prolific novelist, critic, and polemicist, in his three-volume memoir "Hail and Farewell" (published between 1911 and 1914), which entertained its readers but infuriated his former friend. Moore himself said of these memoirs, "Dublin is now divided into two sets; one half is afraid it will be in the book, and the other is afraid that it won't".

Moore, who was attracted to the handsome young Yeats, later fell in love with the celebrated French painter Edouard Manet, who painted three portraits of him. Moore was influenced by the homosexual Oxford critic Walter Pater, and Moore's 1886 work, A Drama in Muslin, contained references to Lesbianism. Moore's 1887 novel, A Mere Accident, also has a homosexual theme and its central character is again based on Martyn.

1889 – Joseph Fielding Smith (d.1964) was presiding patriarch and a general authority of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS Church) from 1942 until 1946.

Smith was born in Salt Lake City, Utah, the son of a LDS Church apostle. He went to school at the University of Utah. In 1929, he married Ruth Pingree. Together they had 7 children.

At the age of 43, Smith was ordained a high priest and Patriarch to the Church on 8 October 1942 by Church President Heber J. Grant. He served but four years before it was reported by the church that he had requested to be released from his position. His request was granted by Church President George Albert Smith on 6 October 1946, with the church announcing that Smith was released for reasons of "ill health." After Smith's death it was discovered that the patriarch had been involved in a homosexual affair with a 21-year-old U.S. Navy sailor, who was also a Latter-day Saint.

After being released, Smith took his family to Honolulu, Hawaii, where he continued to raise his family. For a time, Smith was not allowed to hold any position in the church, but reportedly was "treated with compassion." In 1957, Smith was again allowed to serve in the church after he had forsaken his homosexual behavior.

1948 – Mahatma Gandhi was assassinated in New Delhi, India by a Hindu religious extremist. Gandhi had ended British rule in India through nonviolent resistance.

"Non-violence is not a garment to be put on and off at will. Its seat is in the heart, and it must be an inseparable part of our very being," he stated in 1926.

His teachings were used during many of the Gay demonstrations of the 60s and 70s and were a major influence on Martin Luther King, through his gay cohort and fellow organizer, Bayard Rustin, who studied with Gandhi and brought the idea of satyagraha (a synthesis of the Sanskrit words Satya (meaning "truth") and Agraha ("insistence", or "holding firmly to") back to the American civil rights movement Today, the Gay Christian group Soulforce continues the uses Gandhi's non violence practices in its demonstrations against Christian churches that discriminate against GLBT people.

1951 – A California appellate court upholds the oral copulation conviction of a man based on police looking into the window of a restroom.

1961 – The New Mexico House of Representatives votes 37-28 in favor of a revised criminal code that includes a repeal of the state's sodomy law. This is the first vote by a U.S. legislative body to repeal a sodomy law. This bill refers to sodomitical relations as "variant sexual practice," something unique in U.S. history.

1981 – Fernando Grostein Andrade, born in São Paulo, is a Brazilian filmmaker, director, producer, screenwriter, director of photography, and media entrepreneur. He is a columnist for VEJA magazine and the newspaper Folha de S. Paulo.

His best-known work is the documentary Quebrando o Tabu, which discusses alternative policies to the War on Drugs and features former Brazilian president Fernando Henrique Cardoso as well as former US presidents Bill Clinton, Jimmy Carter, infectologist Drauzio Varella and writer Paulo Coelho.

In 2012, in partnership with Sun Dog Pictures, owned by British entrepreneur Richard Branson, the documentary was adapted into an international version which was narrated by actor Morgan Freeman. The project has spun off into the largest online platform in defense for human rights, with over 15 million followers between Facebook and Instagram.

Abe, his most recent movie, was selected to the Sundance Film Festival in 2019, and stars Noah Schnapp and Seu Jorge.

Fernando was also selected a Young Global Leader by the World Economic Forum in 2019. He is a founder of Spray Media, which produces content for cinema as well as YouTube and branded content. Other works include the documentary Wandering Heart, with Caetano Veloso, and a number of publicity campaign for big brands such as Nestlé, Coca-Cola, and Volkswagen.

Fernando is the son of PhD urbanist Marta Dora Grostein and journalist Mario Escobar de Andrade, director of Playboy magazine in Brazil, who died in 1991. He is brother, on his mother's side, of the TV host Luciano Huck. He currently resides in Los Angeles with his husband, actor Fernando Siqueira.

2003 – On this date Belgium became the second country in the world to legally recognize same-sex marriage, with some restrictions. According to the Belgian Official Journal, approximately 300 same-sex couples were married between June 2003 and April 2004 (245 in 2003 and 55 in 2004). This constituted 1.2 percent of the total number of marriages in Belgium during that period. Two thirds of the married couples were gay male couples; the remainder were lesbian couples. On 22 July 2005, the Belgian government announced that a total of 2,442 same-sex marriages had taken place in the country since the extension of marriage rights to same-sex couples two and a half years earlier.

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object-vault-9 · 8 months ago

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Character Spotlight 1: EMF Meter's History

OOC: I was trying to plan more art or a narrative approach, but with the chaos upcoming in the next weeks in comic and my art program deleting the pens and textures I was using for this several times.... I'd like to go back and refine it better ! Its a little vague and weird in places but I didn't want to put off EMF stuff too much longer Anyway here's a summary of EMF's time at the vault, for people who missed his short duration here, plus his back story! Like always he's open for questions Under the cut since this was really long and wordy

The 18th week after opening the vault, EMF Meter was found with a severe head wound. He was discovered by Red Ball and Push Pin, and brought back to the vault to be cared for by Mousetrap. He wasn't able to determine what happened to him. Week 22 is when he regained consciousness. The exposed portion of his circuitry were still not healing over even as he started to recover. He was back on his feet by Week 24, though still suffered frequent headaches. He reported starting to see and hear things around the vault, but struggled to describe what exactly it was. His original electric field detecting capabilities became less effective, and he got a lot of false positives that messed with his perception. Being a very deeply spiritual person, he interpreted many of these things to be ghosts, and later, possibly demons. Especially after learning of the many losses the vault suffered recently, and prior to its opening. His time in the vault he always came off as quiet and secretive. He was really close with Mousetrap and no one else, and he didn't bring up his past much. He offered to help around the clinic, and to Mousetrap's surprise he was a trained doctor, and familiar with a lot of the pre-war techniques passed down from the vault. The clinic was extremely busy at the time, and some of the vault dwellers injuries were dire, especially Timer's infected leg after she had fallen from a cliff. With supplies dwindling, on week 30 EMF took off on his own to scavenge supplies from the boarded off hospital. To enter the building he climbed to the roof, but slipped on his way back down, surviving the fall but shattering the plastic casing making up his back. Having not told anyone where he had gone, it took the vault a while to locate him after his disappearance was noticed. He luckily made it back to the vault alive and in one piece. He survived a few more weeks due to Mousetrap's careful medical attention, but he wasn't able to make a recovery this time. On his death bed he urged Mousetrap not to blame herself. But how did he get here?

Many miles away from the vault, Emerald City, named after the fantastical city in The Wizard of Oz, is the one of the most stable settlements in the commonwealth. Known to many as simply the 'Walled City", it is notoriously difficult to get in and out of. Though well defended from bandits and wasteland threats, the city is rampant with deep rooted corruption. EMF Meter was born and raised there, and trained as a doctor. If he had stayed he'd have become an affluent figure, but he was really unhappy. The corruption that poisoned the city was prevalent in his family too, leading to both his success and his depression. Leaving behind his old life, he left the city. His journey led him to a church and cemetery. A huge, old world cathedral, barely damaged, and holding up well with its heavy stone foundation. As a doctor he was able to provide help for them that no one had been able to before. And without any survival skills, he felt he had lucked out finding a more genuine community out here, where he could really make a difference. While he provided the community with medical care, they guided him spiritually, with a strange religion unlike any of the beliefs held by objects pre-war. On the first day he was encouraged to throw everything he owned, besides the things he needed for his job, into the hole in the wooden flooring of the church. Freeing himself from its hold on him. He did so readily, believing fate had led him there. Even after leaving, he still believed deeply in things like fate, and more abstractly, demons.

He spent several years there, where he saw the group take in many more lost souls like him. Though he noticed, that as many people as they took in, the population size remained somewhat stagnant. A lot of his friends would leave without telling him. At night, the foundation of the building would groan, giving him nightmares. He was usually advised against using his electric field detection while there. When he did use it, like when assessing the health of other gadget objects like him, he'd pick up weird readings under the building. Despite being told not to approach the hole without another convert, one night he couldn't ignore it any longer. Layers upon layers of items filled up the floor of the cavernous basement under the floorboards of the cathedral. The bones and flesh of hunted animals, the possessions of the community, and...corpses. The whole church was built on a den of an enormous mutated creature, obscured by shadows. The whole church had been occupied solely to keep it dormant, at the expense of the resources, possession and even the lives of the people around it. The people who benefitted most were the high priests that took him in...and people like EMF who could provide rarer services. EMF's skills gave him a value the other passerbyers couldn't afford. He left that night.

EMF Meter was not a man built for survival in the wasteland. Generations of almost stable city life, even if the city was nothing like a modern one, and then further years where he was taken care of at the castle, he struggled a lot with finding food and fighting off beasts. He suffered a severe injury, and fell into a near coma. When he came to, he was a lot quieter and more solemn of a man. He was suspicious of the vault's intentions, and stayed mostly close to his fellow doctor and the person who remained by his side all that time, Mousetrap. For a final fun fact, in game they shared a mutual crush

#tw religious themes #tw cult #tw death mention #clangen #osc #object show #post apocalyptic #object #v9spotlight #emf meter

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quitealotofsodapop · 1 year ago

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Because ive been watching the Fallout series on prime, I shall share my Fallout player characters;

Fallout 3/Lone Wanderer: Calfuray Cole.

Vault 101's chaplin and extreme optimist. Has Morel Orel-level's of belief in people no matter how terrible the world seems. Her father, James, specifically sought out Vault 101 to raise Calfuray in, as she had been born with a genetic mutation that worsened with higher radiation levels. By the time she manages to activate Project Purity, she's a dead ghoul walking. Doesn't do chems or drink - even though she tries. Most likely to be manipulated into being the idol of a cult centered around her.

Song Inspos: Anna Kendrick "Get Back Up Again" + Captain Murphy "Diciples".

Fallout New Vegas: "Hildegarde" aka "

Looks an albino deathclaw with ringu-style white hair. Towers over all other characters. Possible mutant and/or Think Tank experiment. Speaks only with the "Terrfying Presence" perk. Ultimately believes that she must "be the bad guy" to force the people of New Vegas to unite and survive. Nevada cryptid. Responds violently to all Legion. Surprisingly, a friend to animals.

Song Inspos: Poor Mans Poison "Hell's Coming With Me" + 1 800 "Pain".

Fallout 4: Pivot-Blue "Blue" & DomUnique.exe

Variant of my Pivot oc - this one being a RobCo collaboration between Pivot's creator/"Father" and General Atomics to create a Nanny/Babysitter bot. Pivot-Blue (or just "Blue" as Piper calls them), was a baby shower gift to Nate & Nora to take care of Shaun while the new parents returned to civillian life. When Sanctuary Hills residents were corralled into Vault 111, Blue was mistaken for a missing assigned Vault resident and taken inside. Nate and Nora put Blue into "Sleep Mode", and told them to wait until someone came to get them. Blue witnessed Shaun's kidnapping, and once managing to "shut off" Sleep Mode, decided to try and find their charge + learn how to enact vengance for their adoptive-parents. Meets a sentient AI named DomUnique.exe ("Dom") who's been trapped in a Pip-boy replaying holotapes for the past 20+ years. Dom is Blue's built-in guide to the Wasteland + rude dialogue option that lives in their wrist. Blue has no idea how to approach the Human-Synth issue in the Commonwealth as they are a pre-war bot made to look and feel humanly as possible, and is suffering from Pinocchio syndrome. Dom doesn't care ("Pfff! Who needs a body? I'm all digital ba-by!") and openly mocks the issue. Blue ultimately wishes to help people, while Dom just wants to make sure Blue finds better music.

Song Inspos: Blue; Sarah Stiles "Drift Away" + Ray Charles "I Can't Stop Loving You". Dom; KIRA & Hatsune Miku "Digital Girl" + the entirety of Macintosh Plus - "Floral Shoppe".

EDIT: Added song inspos

#fallout #my ocs #fallout 3 #fallout new vegas #fallout 4 #fallout spoilers #pivot oc #dom oc #calfuray oc #hildegarde oc

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historynerdj2 · 2 years ago

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A Noob’s guide to Day of Infamy

This is Day of Infamy.

*ding*

This 2017 game made and published by New World Interactive using the Source engine, is a game that I am sad about. Not because it is sad, but because it is an interesting gem. It’s like finding a brownie shaped like a piece of turd, but it is made with the most exquisite of fudge and chocolate. It is a good game, even with a few flaws (we’ll get to those, don’t worry). In fact, I dare say that this had to be both one of my favorite first person shooters and my favorite World War 2 games. So here is a quick introduction and tutorial of how to survive this game.

First thing to know is that Day of Infamy is a multiplayer tactical first-person shooter, set in the European theatre of the Second World War. With different game mods, with most of them being some variant of finding a point on the map, and politely telling the enemy already there, to shod off. This gentle persuasion is achieved with the liberal application of both high explosives, and small automatic firearms. The maps range from The beaches of Normandy in 1944, the Streets Salerno in 1943, all the way to Crete in 1941. With such a breadth of time (6 calendar years), and a vast swath of maps (mostly France, Italy, and one Greek map), factions are vast, at the number of 3. The different factions play on certain maps, so don’t expect to see Americans at Dunkirk. Each faction has unique weapons, and units. These units don't affect gameplay all that much admittedly, as it is mostly cosmetic, but they are still nice. You can earn them through leveling up, or alternatively, you can just buy them.

First is the Americans, because of course there is.

With all the classic American WW2 weaponry, like M1 Garand, and Thompson, they will be familiar for many. As for units, once again, many of them will be familiar for those that dabble in WW2 history and/or media, such as the 101st Airborne, or the 1st Infantry Division (better known by the nickname “The Big Red One”). I also want to give a shout out, because I’m pretty sure that this is one of the only games that actually remembered that African Americans actually fought in WW2, in the form of including the 92nd Infantry Division, and the 761st Tank Battalion.

Next is everyone's favorite member of the second world war, the Wehrmacht (Germany).

I say Wehrmacht, because the vast majority of their units are Wehrmacht, such as the 272nd Volksgrenadier Division, or the 29th Panzergrenadier Division. The only exception is the 17th Panzer division, who while listed as Wehrmacht, were historically Waffen SS, so now you guys know which unit not to get. Again, most of the weaponry will be familiar for those who play WW2 shooters, such as the MP40, and MG42.

The last faction are the British… or should I say Commonwealth.

This is another reason why I like this game. You see, NWI remembered that the Brits in the second world war, had an empire, and they are willing to bring said empire into their scuffles. This means that while they do have British units like the famous/infamous Black Watch, they also have many units of Canada, such as the Princes’s Patricia’s Canadian Light infantry, as well as Australians (2/17th Battalion, who also happen to be my favorite) and Indians (12th Frontier Force Regiment). As for weaponry, most will be familiar… provided you are familiar with the British in WW2, such as the Bren, or the Lee-Enfield No. 4. They also have the one exception of where units do affect load out (we’ll get to that) with only the 2/17th Battalion being allowed to use the Owen Mk. 1.

Now that you have been familiarized with the factions, one must remember that as this is a team based game, it becomes like medieval Europe, where class matters. There are 9 classes, each with unique load outs, and purposes. Most of them also have limited slots.

Firstly, we have the basic class, the rifleman. The only class to not have a limit for slots, they are armed with a rifle. It should be noted that just because you are using a bolt action for the most part, you’re still deadly. With extra stamina, and access to rifle grenades, it is a very solid class.

Next is the assault class, who solves your issues at close range with the liberal application of an smg. Following that, is Support, who provides support by using a light machine gun, like a Bren or BAR. After that is the trifecta of basic shooter classes of Engineer (use explosives), Machinegunner (MOAR DAKKA!), and Sniper (one shot, one kill). Now the unique classes for the game starts now. After that, is Flamethrower, who decides that turning people into a barbeque is only a war crime the first time.

Now, here is the interesting part. You get one Officer, who has the ability to call support of any sort, from the innocent supply drop and smoke screens, to less innocent ones, such as artillery barrages, aerial strafings, and bombing runs. However, they can’t actually call these in, without a radio, which is accomplished with the last class, radioman. With a radio on their back, all they do is stand next to the officer, while they call in an artillery strike that will wipe the enemy team, and half of your team who were caught in the blast. (rule of thumb, you should always have both an officer and a radioman).

After choosing game mod, faction and units, and class, you have your loadout. Everyone has a primary weapon, secondary weapon, access of up to two different types of grenade, and a melee weapon. Furthermore, attachments to your weapon such as slings, bayonets, or scopes. Furthermore, you also have access to vests that can increase the amount of ammo you have. So what’s the catch? Well, weight is a factor, as in the more stuff you carry, the slower you are. Furthermore, your access to this is determined by supply points. You gain more supply points by playing the objective, so play. The. BLOODY. OBJECTIVE!!!

Anyway, items cost certain amounts of supply points, so this means you have to compromise about what you bring in. For example, if you play an American assault, an M3 Grease Gun with a sling, costs 5 supplies, while a Thompson M1A1 by itself costs 6 supplies. So, with this knowledge, prepare to compromise, especially with your first rounds.

After all that has been said, many of you might remember what I have said earlier about their flaws. Well, here they are. Map designs can be kind of poor, and lack of content update. They still support the game, but don’t hold your breath for new content that isn’t fan made (remember, this is the source engine. It’s super easy to mod… so I’ve been told), considering that the last update was back in December of 2017. This ties into the big elephant in the room… lack of players. Because of the lack of long term support, due to it being released just before another major NWI release, Sandstorm Insurgency (also a really good shooter), player counts can be pretty low. This is in spite of the fact that the vast majority of reviewers like the game. Many players often complain that the game is dead, but that isn’t quite the truth. A lot of the players for some reason seem to be on European servers. Of course, this is also the reason why I’m talking about this game.

So in summary, if you want to try a good team-based fps, or a good WWII game, I strongly recommend giving Day of Infamy a try. It comes cheaply too, being 15 USD for the base game, and 20 USD for the deluxe edition, and it can be cheaper during sales. Also, final note, this game also has amazing voice acting, of various types for the various American, German, and Commonwealth units, using a mixture of your typical fps voices, but also many witty, and genuinely funny lines (in that regards, shout out to the commonwealth voice actors, with my favorites being the Scottish and Australian voice) Many of these voices can be found on Youtube.

So take a dive into Day of Infamy, and this has been a Noob’s guide to Day of Infamy, which can be found on Steam. Enjoy the rest of your day.

#day of infamy #ww2 #wwiii #world war ii #world war two #world war second #second world war #video games #first person shooter #classic fps #humorous #review #tutorial #steam games #new world interactive #nwi

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nukavolkov · 2 years ago

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From the Fallout OC Questionnaire ~ I've just met em so I gotta know: 4. Give us a summary of their backstory. and 19. What natural alignment are they? (ex. Lawful Good, Chaotic Evil) For both your beans, please!

Oooh this will be a long one! I am still working on refining Beau so this won't be entirely set in stone for her.

Donovan would be considered Chaotic Neutral I'd say and as for his backstory. Im going to sum it up as best I can but theres a lot lol:

Donnie was born in Vault 101 and is younger than the cannon player character. His life wasn't amazing in there. A bit neglected by his parents who treated his younger sister like an absolute perfect blessing. He was a big scapegoat for almost everyone there. Getting the blame for so many things. It was east with how quite and awkward he was. He never really fought back. There were people who were on his side but the ones who weren't felt louder to him. He had particular disdain for Butch and the cannon PC. James and kid left the vault when Donovan was 15 and in the chaos he snuck out behind them. Looking for a better life than the one he had.

Immidiate regret on that. He found the Wasteland terrifying, hostile and cruel but he managed to make a few friends in Megaton and beyond. One being Moira as they worked on the Wasteland Survival Guide. Things were hard at first. He was afraid of everything, not very strong, lost a couple fingers and struggled a lot. But as time went on, he got stronger, taller and harder to kill abd developed a wild amount of skill with almost any gun he got his hands on. He was still afraid but he had more control. He also made some mistakes. And the cannon PC also got into some absolute bullshit that he pinned on Donovan. Being blamed for both their wrong doings earned him a real bad reputation in the Capital Wasteland. While he wasnt the most moral person around he wasnt full on evil either. He does genuinely care about people. But being labeled brutal, a monster, vicious. Every word they could come up with left him feeling bitter and as hostile to them as they were to him. His general demeanor, general expression and awkwardness didn't help at all. Just made it worse really. He's hard to read and comes across as rude without meaning to.

So he left the Capital Wastes at 34 with his reputation in unsalvageable shambles and made for the Commonwealth after Maccready (one of his few friends). He met Beau in Nuka World on his way there. Helped her clear out the Raiders then followed her to Sanctuary and eventually Diamond City where he settled nearby, got back to mercenary work and earned a far better reputation with friends to boot.

Now as for Beau. I'd consider her to be Neutral Good I think. As for her story. It's still a WIP but here's what I have so far:

Beau was and is a robotics and power armour enthusiast. Even before the war. She always loves tinkering, building and just making the coolest stuff she could. When she met Nate she was happy to settle down though she was plotting out where she could fit a workshop in their home and saving up to get her own Power Armour frame. She was happy to have Shaun and nestle in in Sanctuary until the bombs.

She hadn't trusted the Vault Tec lads from the beginning but didn't see much of a choice. When she woke to a dead husband and missing baby after being frozen, she didn't know what to do. She was scared, alone and confused. But after a couple aimless days she found her resolve. She moved out, helped Preston and reformed the Minute Men. Vowing to wear a suit of power armour with pride and protect everyone she could. Making the Commonwealth safe for her baby when she found him.

This is all I have so far but I'll give her more as time goes on 👍

#thank you very much for the ask 💚💚💚#i very much appreciate it

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therevelationofjohn · 2 months ago

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"The Christophan." From the Book of Revelation, 21: 5-8.

John's insight into a global economic circulatory system was astute. His suggestion of a spiritual counterpart to real money, a sort of central bank that does not run dry when humankind or the land is ailing is the mother of inspiration for the real thing, which is used liberally to help nations and communities and overcome crisis and survive. Contrary to popular gossip, taxpayers are not responsible for paying themselves back for basic services or government debt when it is regulated properly, especially where infrastructure and logistics, medicine, education, and defense are concerned.

All monies distributed under ther right terms from a central bank are debt free. Taxpayers are never held accountable for these funds, as they are designed for their benefit. There are a number of ways to handle this, none are difficult to manage.

Germany for example, is planning to go into debt to upgrade its infrastructure and defense capabilities. Any central bank could give the money to the German people to cancel the debt or pay for the projects outright. A few persons could do it, the King of England could do it if he weren't impaired, the Czar of Russia could do it if he were not defunct, the President of the United States could do it if he were not a War Criminal. War Criminals are unfortunately, not allowed access to central banking.

As we have discussed in the past, it is not the absence of science or money that holds us back from the onset of the Age of Reason, it is shitty crappy people and inaccurate and uneducated approaches to civil service and the government. We have a hole in our hearts and our heads and thus we have developed holes in our pockets. This is not the way God told us to approach the modern age.

He has told me and all of you in this document and others He wants a new Commonwealth to form, one that engages in master slave relationships with a central bank for the purposes of deweaponizing the world, cleaning up the air, the land, and the sea, ensuring basic services are global and equitably distributed and the guiding lights called the Court of the Assembly ensure war, poverty, depravity and all the vomit that cause them never curse this world again.

The persons that will benefit the most from this new world are the Russian people who as I said have perenially been sandwiched in between a cruel and callous regime and the responses of its enemies. They have no hope. One cannot casually say millions of young men and women are just going to be given over to the meatgrinder as it is called without feeling compassion.

So long as the Russians are not free, this planet will always amount to nothing but a prison yard. So the logical solution to all of our planet's troubles is the return of the Czar of Russia. Only this person one we can trust with signatory power within the Russian Central Bank can undo the damage the former personalities on this planet have done to this planet.

John adds to his recommendations, the full enforcement of the Beersheba, not in public, not in the pew or in the courts, but in the intellect. We simply must become more confident in our ability to very sexy, as sexy as we want to be and yet not commit illegal, immoral, distracting, or compulsive sexual acts.

A world that is well financed and has a balancing act, this John says will be reprieved and eventually be a sucess:

5 He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.”

6 He said to me: “It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To the thirsty I will give water without cost from the spring of the water of life.

7 Those who are victorious will inherit all this, and I will be their God and they will be my children.

8 But the cowardly, the unbelieving, the vile, the murderers, the sexually immoral, those who practice magic arts, the idolaters and all liars—they will be consigned to the fiery lake of burning sulfur. This is the second death.”

The Values in Gematria are:

v. 5: I'm making everything new. The Number is 11850, יאףן‎ ‎, yafen, "the beauty of the human race."

The verb יפה (yapa) means to be beautiful. It's used eight times in the Bible, mostly to describe the outward beauty of women (Song of Solomon 7:7, Ezekiel 16:3, Jeremiah 4:30).

Our verb comes with the following derivatives:

The adjective יפה (yapeh), meaning beautiful. This word is applied to women (Genesis 12:14, 2 Samuel 13:1), but also to men (Genesis 39:6, 2 Samuel 14:25; ergo, the ridiculous distinction between pretty for women and handsome for men doesn't exist in Hebrew). Our word is also applied to cities (Psalm 48:2), trees (Jeremiah 11:16, Ezekiel 31:3), and the human singing voice (Ezekiel 33:32).

The adjective יפה־פיה (yepeh-piya), which is a reduplicative form that results in a diminutive: pretty (Jeremiah 46:20 only).

The masculine noun יפי (yepi), meaning beauty. This noun is again often applied to women (Isaiah 3:24, Esther 1:11), but also to the king of Judah (Isaiah 33:17), Zion (Psalm 50:2) and trees (Ezekiel 31:8). The prophet Ezekiel applies this noun lavishly to the king of Tyre (Ezekiel 28:7, 28:12, 28:17)."

v. 6: I am the Alpha and the Omega. The Number is 8923, ףט‎ךג‎, efet‎techag‎, "revolve the circle, start the effect."

v. 7: Those who are victorious will inherit all of this. The Number is 7422, ע‎דךב‎ ‎, adhav, "pass over, return and repeat."

"Root עדד ('adad) describes a repeated passing by or over, or a repeated encountering. Noun עדה ('idda) describes any well-worn item.

Verb עדה ('ada I) means to advance or pass on. Nouns עד ('ad) and ועד (w'ad) describe the difficult concept of a future era advancing upon the now, or else the prey or booty upon which a predator advances. The conjunction עד ('ad) or עדי ('ady) means "as far as" or until.

The same verb, namely עדה ('ada II) is used to mean to adorn or ornament oneself — that is: to have items approach the canvas of one's bulk in order to testify of some social rank or perhaps the trade or order one belongs to. Noun עדי ('adi) means ornamentation: fancy or declarative things worn on one's body or clothes.

Verb יעד (ya'ad) means to meet, habitually and repeatedly rather than incidentally. Noun עדה ('eda) means congregation or some other joint collective. Nouns מועד (mo'ed), מועד (mo'ad) and מועדה (mu'ada) describe a place (or time) of meeting.

Verb עוד ('ud) means to return and repeat. Noun עוד ('od) denotes an addition, repetition or continuance. Nouns עד ('ed), עדה ('eda), עדה ('eda), עדת ('edut), עדות ('edut) and תעודה (te'uda) all mean witness or testimony in various nuances, and verb עוד ('ud) means to bear witness."

v. 8: But the cowardly will be consigned to the lake of fire. The Number is 12023, קךךג‎, kechachag, "now that's a holiday."

God says to put the pedophiles into the fire and have a revenge party. A party that ends with lions in an arena...

youtube

The first Gemara is God wants us to beatify the human race and end all of the manmade causes of suffering and respond to Acts of God with great compassion. He says this must happen now and there must be a cycle, wave after wave of schools of fish that are taught why and how this is done so we never revert back. The end of this cycle begins with the Revenge Party against the Republican Party and all faith based organizations responsible for the mess.

The secondary Gemara is יאףן‎ףט‎ךג‎ע‎דךבקךךג‎‎, =yefan efet techaga dechavakechachag, = "Japan flew away, celebrate the holiday, hahahahaha."

Japan= Yah's Phan, or "theophany"

A theophany is a visible manifestation or appearance of a deity, often used in religious contexts to describe an encounter with God or a god.

Here's a more detailed explanation:

Definition:The word "theophany" comes from the Greek words "theos" (God) and "phaino" (to appear).

Biblical Context:In the Old Testament, theophanies are often depicted as God appearing in human form, in natural phenomena like fire, clouds, or a burning bush, or in visions and dreams.

Examples:

God appearing to Abraham.

The burning bush in Exodus.

The cloud of fire in the wilderness.

Visions of prophets like Isaiah and Ezekiel.

Purpose:Theophanies are believed to serve as a way for God to reveal himself and his character to humans, often conveying important messages or insights.

Theophany vs. Christophany:While a theophany is a general manifestation of God, a christophany is specifically a pre-incarnate appearance of Jesus Christ.

Significance:Theophanies are considered a way for God to connect with humanity and make his presence known.

Other Religions:The concept of theophany also appears in other religious traditions, including Christianity, Judaism, and Hinduism.

As we mentioned in a prior frame, the new Commonwealth will be constituted by fliers, persons who are able to grasp the meaning of the scripture and are willing to learn and apply the secular sciences needed to make the Revelation into a reality. This is how God, or as the etymology suggests, Christ comes to us again and again.

We are told in the scripture not to allow an underclass to develop. Continual contraction of the lower class through proper investment strategies, like my suggestion to reprieve the Russian people from slavery to the military will solve all that troubles mankind. This includes birth control, robust spending on education, basic sevices, industry and hospitality with other nations and even in the church, which, when it functions as a not for profit can reach persons other eyes and hands might miss. I propose a legal limit on military spending not to exceed NATO requirements on arms and men. In addition all fissionable materials will be banned for use in weapons.

All of this awaits us once we begin the Mission of Mercy. He says it's a chance to slow the hurricane down to a breeze, we should not pass it by.

The Revelation is almost at an end.

#Youtube

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dataproviderindia · 3 months ago

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Plastic Container Manufacturers in India [Top Manufacturers]

The amount of plastic consumed every year is gradually increasing. Low density, strength, user-friendly design, manufacturability, extended life, low weight and low cost are all features that contribute to its rapid growth. Plastics are also considered lighter than other packing materials by consumers.

In the 1960s plastics overtook many other materials such as wood, cardboard and glass in packaging. In the 1970s plastics replaced many lighter alloys and metals and in the 1980s plastic production expanded and diversified and became one of the top industries in the world. The use of plastic products has increased dramatically in recent years, with many new businesses entering the industry and a greater variety of plastics being produced. Therefore, the top plastic container manufacturers in India mentioned below are able to survive and thrive in this market.

Original Source: https://kashyapbhaskar00.wixsite.com/best-database-guid-1/post/plastic-container-manufacturers-in-india-top-manufacturers

1. Essel Propack Limited

EPL has a global reach that allows it to provide fully coordinated solutions for all production demands. It ranks first as the top packaging manufacturer in the world, producing laminated plastic tubes for the FMCG and pharma space. They create packaging that is excellent in terms of barrier properties, visual appeal, ease and dispensability.

They have been driving innovation and improving their performance for over three decades to remain the preferred packaging partner worldwide.

2. Uflex Limited

Uflex Limited has built an impeccable name for shaping the 'packaging industry' in India and beyond over the last three decades. It has grown from a small start-up in 1985 to a multibillion-dollar corporation based on trust, customer value creation, quality innovation, and customer delight. With large manufacturing capabilities of packaging films and packaging products, Uflex has grown steadily, and has provided end-to-end solutions to customers in 150 countries spanning the United States, Canada, South America, United Kingdom, Europe, Commonwealth of Independent States, South Africa and other African countries, Middle East, and South Asia. It is India's largest flexible packaging materials and solutions company, as well as a leading global polymer science organization, with a strong market presence, and undoubtedly one of the plastic container manufacturers in India.

3. TCPL Packaging Limited

TCPL produces folding cartons, plastic cartons, blister packs, blanks and outer covers that are printed, and shelf-ready packaging. With the capability to manufacture printed cork-tipping paper, laminates, sleeves, and wrap-around labels, TCPL is a leading player in the flexible packaging business.

Note: If you want any types of manufacturing companies list visit our website 77 Data.

More links are given below:corporate companies in mumbai | manufacturing company in delhi ncr | manufacturing company in vadodara

#PlasticContainerManufacturersinIndia #PlasticContainerManufacturers #PlasticContainer #ContainerManufacturers #Manufacturers #Plastic

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grant-marketing · 7 months ago

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Industrial Marketing Is a Key Solution to Business Growth for Manufacturers

Every subject is thoroughly examined, offering insightful information. Additionally, the Boston Globe just published an article discussing a few of the difficulties in workforce development. The essay covered the potential effects of an aging workforce—Baby Boomers who are retiring—on manufacturing.

Controlling regulations effectively is always a political game, weighing the needs of the public against impeding business expansion. Moderating the "substantial financial burden that health care and energy place on business growth" is another goal of the proposal.

While issues like labor shortages, laws, and rising commodity prices are beyond the control of individual manufacturing firms, business development is entirely within your power and can be accomplished with strategic planning, as well as astute sales and industrial marketing techniques.

The blueprint discusses the necessity of "re-establishing the once close connection between innovative sectors of the economy and the commonwealth's base of advanced manufacturers" in the future, that is, right now. It encourages the development of a predictable and stable corporate environment that fosters entrepreneurship and allows for the success and development of all parties.

Instead of focusing on growing my business, I am spending a huge amount of time figuring out how to survive increased costs and regulations while operating in Massachusetts," is a remark from an employer in Massachusetts that aptly captures the current predicament.

However, how can you combine these two difficult methods—the way things should be and the way they are—while still being sustainable and fostering growth? Viewed through the lens of industrial marketing, which is what Grant Marketing does, it becomes evident to us that industrial manufacturers may lessen the burden these difficulties create by fostering new business development with the support of a solid marketing plan. We assist businesses in doing just that, therefore we are aware that this is the case.

Grant Marketing, including industrial marketing, has moved entirely online from the Don Draper Mad Men era of the past. Additionally, because the train has already left the station and you still have time to catch up, if you are not current with what is going on in the world of sales and marketing today, get on board right away.

Whether you refer to it as inbound, content, or internet marketing, the reality is that up to 90% of searches for the goods and services you offer are made online. (The B2B industry is affected by this.) This implies that before your prospects get in touch with you, you have to be a part of their discovery process. Your website must be able to work around the clock for you, and it should.

If you don't provide your prospects and customers with the knowledge they need to solve problems at their firms when they look for it—whether it's a short search at 5 a.m. before they start their hectic workdays or in an airport during a layover—your company won't even be considered. Make it convenient for them to find you, and they will.

Top 5 Industrial Marketing Actions You Need to Take Now:

A website that is updated, mobile-friendly, and has clear navigation as well as educational material and copy. SEO relevance is still given top attention to all content and copy.

Continuous update of helpful, contemporary information/articles in the form of blogs, case studies, infographics, white papers, and videos

generating leads from information searchers to qualified prospects who want to work with you by using forms, call-to-actions (CTAs), and landing pages.

Nurturing leads with scheduled monthly email campaigns

collecting all lead and visitor data to enable real-time, informed marketing decisions

Grant Marketing will guide you through the necessary steps if you'd like to find out more about how these inbound marketing techniques for industrial manufacturing can increase business and how you can use these practices in your organization. Actually, we lead workshops that cover these tactics. Our workshops cover a wide range of topics related to inbound and content marketing approaches.

Grant Marketing Workshop Topics:

Creating a content marketing culture

Building a content library

Industrial manufacturing: building sales in the internet era

Why you need content marketing and how sales depend on it

There are tools and techniques available to support your business development objectives. Contact us for an inbound marketing assessment. To achieve your goals, find out how to implement inbound marketing methods into your company.

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jimbleswrites · 1 year ago

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Nora, the Sole Survivor

Chapter 6: Sanctuary, Rebuilt

The walk back to Sanctuary was more lively than my initial walk. Between Preston and Sturges talking to each other about the long trip and Marcy and Jun tending to Mama Murphy, there was a source of chatter the whole trip. The dog even followed us back, although no one knew if he was a stray or not. Even Moe and I had a talk about some of the things I hadn’t been sure of. It turns out ghouls weren’t the only new species of human, there was another race of ‘super mutants’ that evolved somehow. They were very aggressive, not very smart, and constantly attacked settlements, looking for ‘green stuff’, whatever that meant.

Diamond City, on the other hand, was a large city in the heart of old downtown. Apparently the biggest in the Commonwealth and one of the oldest still surviving. Moe talked about it with scorn, but I thought back to what Mama Murphy had said about ‘a neon heart in a big city’. Maybe Diamond City was the big city she meant? I decided to help the group settle, and maybe Mama Murphy would be able to clarify once she woke up.

We walked past the red rocket station as we walked, with night falling just as we hit the bridge before Sanctuary proper. Preston finally broke off from Sturges, coming up to join Moe and I in the front. “So this is it. Hopefully no one has set up camp here.” Preston looked forward, the wood creaking as we started to cross.

“Yeah, the neighbors are terrible. An ornery old robot and a human ice cube.” Moe laughed as he punched my arm.

I laughed with him. “Yeah, I’ve lived here for a while. But you’re free to set up home wherever works best for you.” I explained to Preston, who seemed confused.

“I thought no one had set up here past Concord. Guess our intel was wrong.” Preston mused. Codsworth was hovering around, trimming hedges until he noticed us.

He waved as we got closer. “Good evening, Nora! You’ve found some friends out there!” His voice was as chipper as ever.

“These people are looking for a new place to settle. Codsworth, I don’t suppose you can help them get set up for tonight?” I asked.

“Of course, ma’am. Please let me help!” He rushed off, coming back with some sleeping bags and guiding the group towards the house across from mine.

We set up sleeping bags and mattresses where we could, and everyone got a little food from Codsworth’s stash. All of them were tired from the day and decided to sleep for the night. Soon it was just Moe, Codsworth, and I sitting on a curb outside in the chilly night air.

“It will be lovely to have people here again after so many years!” Codsworth cheered. “But I do hope your quest was successful in finding more information about Shaun, Nora.”

“It was… something.” I sighed. “The world is so different now.” I looked over to Moe. “About Mama Murphy, are psychics a common thing now?” Mama Murphy’s words kept rattling around in my mind.

Moe shrugged. “The radiation has done a lot since you got frozen. Plenty of unexplainable things happen all over. I mean, I shouldn’t even be alive. I wouldn’t worry too much about some old lady muttering random words though.” He yawned through the sentence. “Get some sleep, and you can figure out the rest tomorrow.” He patted my shoulder as he got up, walking back into the guest home.

Codsworth’s eyes whirred as he watched Moe walk away. “That ghoul seems oddly familiar.”

I chuckled to myself. I looked up at Codsworth. Him and Moe were the last ties to the pre-war world I knew. “Codsworth… are you going to be ok if I take a longer trip?”

Codsworth nodded, his center eye moving while the others kept watch. “You’ll find that I can deal with these guests with the best of them, ma’am.”

“No, I mean… I have to go find Shaun. And I may not be back for a long time…” I spoke slowly, processing the full extent of the trip I was planning to take.

“You've no idea the horror these past two centuries have wrought.” Codsworth suddenly interrupted. I looked up at him, all his eyes staring back into mine. “The initial destruction, not knowing if you and your family were all right. It was a relief just to find the entrance intact!”

I teared up a little. “I'm so sorry, Codsworth. It was so sudden. Not even time for goodbyes.”

“I understood completely. Family safety first above all else.” Codsworth continued. “And yes, while it was hard at first, I was able to eventually move on. At first it was work, busying myself day and night, and believe me, there was plenty of it.” He gestured to the trimmed dead hedges of the suburb. “But eventually, the work became light chores. What truly saved me was my memories. Memories of you and the hubby, and young Shaun. Of your love and kindness.” His voice changed from his neutral tone to a softer joyful one. “I soldiered on, fueled by hope that one day, if not you and the husband, that Shaun, or perhaps Shaun's children would one day emerge.”

“You don't regret it? All the waiting?” My tears flowed as I spoke. I couldn’t imagine the wait of 200 years, and the idea that Codsworth stayed here the whole time, with only a vague premise that maybe someday someone would come out of the vault made me feel terrible.

“Never! If you ask me, it was worth it. All 200 years!” Codsworth sounded happy, and gently put his claw on my shoulder. “I just wanted you to know how much I consider you family. I may be a mere robot to some, but I do hope you've come to see me as more.”

“I consider you to be family, too, Codsworth.” I cried. “That’s why I… I…”

“You don't have to say anything, mum. I just... felt you should know what you've come to mean to me. So you can imagine the distress I felt when the bombs fell, after you fled to the Vault. And when you returned, I was overjoyed! I admit I ran a full diagnostics scan just to make sure I wasn't malfunctioning.” His tone was serious and concerned. “But the news. The news of Nate and Shaun. Believe me when I say, it takes a true hero to live through that.”

“I'm no hero, Codsworth. Believe me.” I thought back to the raiders I killed. The absolute violence that this world needed of me.

“In such a bleak world as this, think of all you've witnessed, and all you've done. But you, Nora, you have remained the very model of what humanity should aspire to be.”

I looked at the guest house. There were a group of people there that I helped today. They may have died if I wasn’t there. I wouldn’t call myself a hero, but maybe I did some real good today.

“You don’t want to leave, but Shaun won’t find himself out there.” Codsworth spoke. “I have the utmost faith you will find him out there. I will do my best to take care of our guests, and you are welcome to come back whenever you need.”

I hugged Codsworth, awkwardly wrapping my arms around his waist. There was a pause, then Codsworth put his claw on my back. “I’ll stay here for a few days to help them settle in, but thank you. For everything.”

“Of course, ma’am.” Codsworth replied. We stayed out for a while, watching the stars from the ruined curb, enjoying each other’s company.

***

The next few days were busy ones. I offered to help the group set up, and they had some big plans to make this place a home. Today was all gardening, expanding from the two mutfruit trees Codsworth had to several different types of flora. Corn, razorgrain, tatos, carrots, and melons from the group's pack were planted into the ground, and slowly we built a full garden in the backyard of the guest house. Most of the flora I saw was a little off but alright, but the tatos really weirded me out. The outside was like a tomato, but the inside was brown and starchy like a potato. No one really seemed to like them, but they grew very quickly so nearly all farms in the commonwealth had them growing.

After that, it was all about building a water purifier. Sanctuary already had a river nearby, so Sturges came up with the idea of building a purifier on the river itself to save space. We managed to gather enough raw materials to build it, and I found myself and Moe connecting pipes while the others worked on the water tank and supports.

“Any thoughts on what’s next, Nora?” Moe asked while threading on some nuts on the bracket.

“Well, I was hoping to get Mama Murphy to clarify what she meant.” I looked over to Mama Murphy, sitting on a chair overlooking the river. The dog laid at her feet, watching the people working. “But she hasn’t really said anything.”

“I mean, Diamond City is the biggest place around. I think that’s probably the only place that fits ‘a big city’ around here.” Moe explained.

“I think so too. Probably set up everyone tonight and head out tomorrow morning.” I agreed.

“We should stop by Concord again too. See what’s left over that we can take with us.” Moe added.

I couldn’t say that I was comfortable looting bodies yet, but Moe was right. We’d need more ammo and more armor wouldn’t hurt either. “Yeah, and I’m sure that any larger stuff could get lugged back here.”

“Glad to see we think alike.” Preston interjected. He sat down next to me. “Just came by to thank you two for helping us again.”

“You’re welcome.” I remembered something. “I wanted to ask a favor, as long as you’re all settling in here.” I pointed over to Codsworth, who was cutting metal with his buzzsaw for the water tank. “Codsworth means a lot to me, and if you could just watch over him while I’m away.”

“Of course. He’s been a great help since we got here.” Preston smiled. “How long has he been here?”

I remembered getting Codsworth from the store with Nate a couple months after Shaun was born. “He’s been here since the bombs dropped.”

“Really?” Preston narrowed his eyes. “I don’t mean to pry, but he was talking about you earlier and mentioned you before the war. Did you mess with his memory at all?” He laughed as he continued. “I mean, obviously you weren’t around before the war.”

Moe flashed me a smirk. I sighed. “No, he’s right. I bought Codsworth before the war. I lived over there, a long time ago.”

Preston laughed again, then paused on seeing my face. “Come on, I mean, you’re not a ghoul or anything. There’s no way you’re pre-war.”

“I was frozen in a vault until a few days ago.” I stated.

“Nearly 200 years on ice.” Moe added.

Preston looked in awe. “I… That explains why you looked so confused when we talked. And why you were so comfortable around a pre-war ghoul.”

“Hey, be nice.” Moe snarked.

“It’s been a transition for sure.” I shrugged. “But I feel like I’m finally getting a grip on how things work.”

“You said you were going away. What’s out there you need to find?” Preston asked.

“My son. He was taken away and I need to find out what happened.”

“Wow, that’s a lot.” There was a pause. “Listen, not to add on to your journey, but could you do me a favor?”

“Depends.” Moe responded. I looked at Preston for more information.

“Just past Concord, there’s a little shop in a Drumlin Diner. I got a call for help for the minutemen. No specific details, just needing help. Thing is, no one has responded yet. I think I might actually be the last minuteman, and I can’t abandon these guys while they still need help. Would you be willing to stop by and help?”

“The diner next to the drive-in?” Moe asked. Preston nodded. Moe put a finger to his chin in thought. “It’s on the way, but the boss will have to decide.”

“Of course we can.” I nodded.

Preston sighed in relief. “Thank you. Trust me, I’ll be back on the grind after they’re all settled here.” He clapped my back as he walked back to the others.

“Boss, huh? That’s a fun title.” I teased Moe.

“Hey, you technically pay me to watch your back.” Moe countered. “Now, hurry up with those, looks like they’re ready to set up.”

I looked over to see them moving things towards the river. Moe and I grabbed our supports and walked down to join them. Despite the non-stop labor today, It was the best I had felt since I was unfrozen. We managed to get the purifier set and running, so food and water were set. I told the group that afternoon that we were heading out, and they gave Moe and I the spare rations they had in thanks for all our help.

I was packing my bag for the trip when the dog came up and barked. I tried to pet him only for him to knock my hand away and look towards the river. I looked to see Mama Murphy still watching the running water. The dog wanted me to check on her, I guess? I walked down, eventually standing to her. She was still watching the water, wrapped in a blanket.

“Hey, Mama Murphy.” I crouched down next to her chair. “The dog wanted me to check on you.”

“Dogmeat.” Mama Murphy whispered. It was the first time she had spoken since she talked to me at the museum.

I looked at the dog, curled in Mama Murphy’s legs. I guess Dogmeat is what she named him.

“Right, Dogmeat. Are you feeling better now?” I asked.

Her voice was soft, like she still felt weak. “The Sight really knocks me out. But I need to tell you more about the journey.” She whispered.

“Please, tell me what you know.” I wanted all the info she could offer me.

“Diamond City holds answers, but they're locked tight.” Her eyes opened wide, suddenly talking at a louder voice. “You ask them what they know, but people's hearts are chained up with fear and suspicion. But you find it. You find that heart that's gonna lead you to your boy. Oh, it's... it's bright. So bright against the dark alleys it walks.” Her eyes shut, her voice lowered as she continued. “That's... that's what you need to do, kid. Follow the signs to the bright heart.”

She began snoring softly, apparently tired from her Sight. I sat on the ground next to her. Dogmeat moved from Mama Murphy to my side, lying next to me. I pet Dogmeat as we watched the water moving, feeling better than ever about my journey ahead.

#fallout 4 #writing #fanfic

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gravitascivics · 2 years ago

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VIABILITY OF THE LIBERATED FEDERALISM, VII

With this posting, this blog continues to make its viability statement regarding the mental construct, liberated federalism. The construct is proposed by this blogger to guide the efforts of civics educators in selecting the content they present to secondary students in American classrooms. To date, the blog has described how the construct measures up to Eugene Meehan’s criteria[1] – the criteria’s first six concerns – and this posting will address the seventh, predictability, and eight, control.

The criterion, predictability, asks: Does a construct predict conditions associated with the phenomena in question? There are two key predictive statements that can be made regarding the use of the liberated federalism model. One, effective political behavior is conducted by associations, not individuals.[2] Two, that dysfunctional social behavior will be lessened by shifting from an individual to communal political culture orientation.[3]

As this blog has related in its historical account of past and present political views (an account that starts with its posting, “Parochial’s Comprehensiveness,” April 1, 2022), the American society has moved from a more communally oriented perspective of the parochial/traditional federalism view to the individualistic, natural rights perspective, and consequently has experienced a drift to a more crime-ridden and uncivil society.[4]

The model presented here is a compromise between the older versions of responsible citizenship and the liberated individualism the nation has adopted as its prominent political view. Yes, this synthesis also includes ideas from critical theory – mainly its concerns for the underprivileged – but in the main, liberated federalism incorporates the communal concerns federalism promotes and the de-parochialism natural rights favors.

And this posting has room for the last of Meehan’s criteria, that being control. That criterion asks: Does a construct imply ways to control the phenomena in question? That is, does it have purpose? The presented model identifies the relevant variables affecting both the communal harmony and the moral decision-making as pursuant to the analysis Philip Selznick[5] provides and is congruent with the ideas advanced by Amitai Etzioni,[6] Daniel Elazar,[7] Donald S. Lutz,[8] Robert D. Putnam,[9] and Michael J. Sandel.[10]

In general, these writers provide ideas about how a communally strong, federally organized, functional society operates and maintains itself. Insofar as their ideas are contained in the presented model and are true to their purpose, the model presented implies ways of controlling the phenomena in question: through effective and moral political behavior. This is placed in priority since, as often claimed in this blog, in the long run societal survival depends upon these qualities.

The next posting will add two criteria to Meehan’s list. They are the criteria, abstract level, and motivation. These last two more directly address the concerns of teachers.

[1] For readers wishing to read the previous postings relating these viability claims that the blog is making, they can read the last six postings found in the online site http://gravitascivics.blogspot.com/. As for Meehan’s criteria, see Eugene J. Meehan, Contemporary Political Thought: A Critical Study (Homewood, IL: Dorsey Press, 1967). To date, the blog has reviewed comprehensiveness, power, precision, consistency/reliability, isomorphism, and compatibility.

[2] Philip Selznick, The Moral Commonwealth: Social Theory and the Promise of Community (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1992).

[3] Michael Walzer, On Toleration (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1997). The predictions this model would make are qualitative because the model does not provide quantitative values to variables it identifies.

[4] As for individualistic view being dominant, see Jean M. Twenge, Generations: The Real Differences between Gen Z, Millennials, Gen X, Boomers, and Silents – and What They Mean for America’s Future (New York, NY: Atria Books, 2023).

[5] Philip Selznick, The Moral Commonwealth: Social Theory and the Promise of Community (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1992).

[6] Amitai Etzioni, The Spirit of Community: Rights, Responsibilities, and the Communitarian Agenda (New York, NY: Crown Publisher, 1993)

[7] Daniel J. Elazar, “How federal is the Constitution? Thoroughly.” In a booklet of readings, Readings for classes taught by Professor Elazar (1994, 1-30) prepared for a National Endowment for the Humanities Institute. Conducted in Steamboat Springs, Colorado.

[8] Donald S. Lutz, The Origins of American Constitutionalism (Baton Rouge, LA: Louisiana State University Press, 1988).

[9] Robert D. Putnam, Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community (New York, NY: Simon and Schuster, 2000).

[10] Michael J. Sandel, Democracy’s Discontent: America in Search of a Public Philosophy (Cambridge, MA: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1996).

#liberated federalism #social predictability #social control #moral policy #natural rights #communal vs. individual perspectives #civics education #social studies

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trashcanwriting · 6 years ago

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Commonwealth Survival Guide

Chapter 2: All I Have To Do Is Dream

Summary:

Released from her own personal torture, Evangeline is now forced to try and escape the Vault on her own- now trapped in complete isolation.

Song to Inspire Title: All I Have To Do Is Dream by the Everly Brothers

Previous Chapter: America Of Tomorrow, Yesterday!

She was imprisoned back into her cryogenic pod the moment she had tasted freedom from being locked away, the moment the child felt they were being released, her mind was brought into the unconscious state she could only vaguely remember. It was a blurring experience, feeling like a dream she couldn't remember the morning after.

Inside her mind for so long, she did not dream, create fantasies or a life for herself in her mind. Memories, things she remembers, is all that floated through her head on a constant repeat. So, she was frozen, where her memories continuously played, with no escape in sight.

The memories felt real; she thought she was still in Aunt Nora and Uncle Nate's house. She felt the hugs and kisses and playing with Louis. One memory she always seemed to gravitate to was the first time she had ever seen her birth mother. The memory was bitter-sweet, almost surreal moment in on itself. It was odd to her that was the point in time that seemed so important to her; it felt so minor to everything else.

Aunt Nora had sat her on the couch, showing her the family albums. Uncle Nate was still in the war, and she had found out some months back her father was dead. She didn't understand why the war was happening, but she hated it. She hated she had not seen Uncle Nate for almost six months, she lost her father to it, and now her Grandmother had refused rights of her.

Aunt Nora must have seen how upset she was, as Eva now sat with a Nuka cola in her hand as Aunt Nora lazily flipped through the pages.

She knew the usual pictures, the ones of her Aunt and Uncle's wedding, her first days of school, Aunt Nora in college, and even some of Uncle Nate and her father in their youth. She was used to these photos and seeing her father made her heart sink more.

Just as Eva was going to close the book, Nora had begun to turn past the pages she was so used to, adventuring to photographs she had never seen. Her Father and Uncle in college, of her Grandmother and Grandfather before they divorced- things Eva had yet to see. If she didn't feel so glump, she would have felt excitement.

"Do you know who this is?" Nora turned her head towards her, smiling warmly. Eva’s eyes followed towards her long fingernail tapping on a photograph.

The photograph was a baby and a woman, and what looked to be her father. The baby had a wisp of jet black hair just as hers, with her icy blue eyes. Her father gripped the shoulders of the woman, so tightly the fabric had been wrinkled by the force.

The baby was hanging off the hip of a young woman; scrawny with straight-leg cigarette pants and a tight, black turtleneck. She had one arm holding the baby, with the other hand making a peace sign. She had her tongue out in a toothy smile.

The woman had a happy grin, an expression so bright it looked like a child's face. "No.. it's not you."

The woman's blonde hair was so long it went all the way to her back- she had never seen a woman have hair that long.

"It's your mother, Betty." Nora was rubbing up against the child’s arm, as Eva tensed. She was never allowed to know who her mother was, the adults in her life avoided the question with either gentleness or simply changing the subject. Her father shut down on her once for asking, locking her in her room for thirty minutes but never said why she was in so much trouble.

She wasn't ever allowed to see her, her hesitant fingertips reached, and gently touched the flat picture. Her mother was holding a baby version of her- and Eva had a fistful of that long, shimmering blonde hair in one grime covered hand. The baby was only half interested in the photograph, sufficiently engrossed in the long mane of the woman.

"She looks different." She glanced back up at her Aunt, who chuckles, going to another page to show Betty sitting on a counter at some restaurant, hands up in an excessive shrug as she grinned, her hands flat at her shoulders on each side. Her legs were crossed, looking off to the corner with that same innocence from the first photo. Her father was in this one also, looking young and without the scars he had gotten from war.

He sat on a bar stool, facing the camera with a stiff posture. He didn't radiate the life or fun the woman did. Evangeline felt a ting of grief as she never got to know this woman.

"Oh, she was, a poetic activist... The only woman who told your father when he was a tight up meanie." She coos, making the child look back at the photo for the second peek- her father looked as he did in the photo albums from years ago. He had the same stern, stoic countenance he had when she knew him. A gloved hand was on the thigh of Betty. He wore his military attire- he always did in formal situations.

Vincint was always dignified; his short black hair had been combed in a precise, clean cut. His attire was always pressed; without wrinkles, without a stain. That uniform was his pride. It was hard thinking of his memory, now that he was gone.

"This was their pregnancy photo, it’s based off the first ever picture of them together."

Nora taps the photo on the next page, showing a much younger pair of the two, Betty was sitting on the same counter, holding a full glass of wine as Vincint had his hand on her knee instead of her thigh. Betty was wearing dungarees pants, a black and white striped shirt far too big for her, and a plain pair of white flatties. He wore a dark button-up cardigan and beige khakis. His posture was perfect- everything of him was neat and organized.

"Your mother loved poems. She named you after her favorite one." Aunt Nora pets her hair quietly as Evangeline continued through the pages of the album.

Eva began to have a big love for poems. It made her feel close to the woman in the pictures and stories. The laughing, happy woman who applied lipstick in the reflection of power armor and fought against the mistreatment of people in America. Aunt Nora fully embraced this new found love and gifted her a poem book on her seventh birthday.

Eva cherished the book full of poems, with an attached ribbon bookmark, the cover was thick, made of leather. She felt so adult when she read the lyrics or carried it around the school. It was her show-and-tell five times in a roll. Those memories, of her mother, seemed happy. Her mother left behind an idea of a perfect woman.

Memories of her father were more bitter. She has memories of being yelled at for not making her bed correctly or getting grounded for getting B's in schools. He wanted perfection from a five-year-old, and she could never provide that. He was so stoic until she did something he didn't enjoy, and then he would become so angry.

It sent a wave of sorrow across her family when he was officially dead- his stream of holotypes had dried, the usual reports, that felt like an official document, where he stated how many he had killed, what weapons used, and what he ate.

Only in passing did he ever mention he missed his daughter or his mother, but that was usually as a side note. He was an abrasive man, when not shipped off on the front of the war, Eva would dread his homecomings and stay with him. He had a strict schedule, which had to be followed precisely.

Even out of the battlefield, he wanted it, he had been raised as a military brat, and he wanted that childhood for her also. He expected high performance for everything she did, and she would feel drained by his visits. When shipped off somewhere, Grandmother Ethelyn or Aunt Nora would care for her. She rathered them much more.

Aunt Nora lived in Boston, and her Grandmother lived on the coast of Maryland. So the only times she would see Aunt Nora was if Grandmother Ethelyn was going for surgery, requiring someone else watching the child, or holidays when the family would all gather together. She hardly knew Aunt Honora at the time.

Grandmother Ethelyn was an acerbic woman, and she was not gentle or kind like other grandmothers in television or books she had read. She couldn't call her Granny or Grandma like other children; she was to be referred to as Grandmother Ethelyn, even before she could pronounce it correctly, she would have to attempt to say it- even if it was more gibberish at that point.

She was similar to her father but much more watered down on the strict expectations and the life she had to suffer through him. She expected Eva to be independent: Eva was taught to cook, clean, and care for herself once she could walk and form a sentence. She was no-nonsense and expected Eva to be a little lady always.

The rules, the chores, the studying that she had to do, she never felt unloved or not enough. Grandmother Ethelyn told her she was a brilliant child, that she would do amazing things as an adult. If anyone bullied Eva, Grandmother Ethelyn would wait outside the child's house more fired up than a guard dog on a trespasser. Unlike her father, she never felt she could lose her Grandmother's love.

Grandmother Ethelyn was the strongest woman she knew. She could intimate women and men alike. Eva would always feel so protected by her Grandmother. She was a strong woman, who did heavy lifting and labor even in her older years despite her relatives pleading for the old woman to slow down.

She was tough and said everyone needed to be tough in times of wars. She expected Evangeline to be so strong, even if Evangeline couldn't be like her Grandmother, who could lose so much and still be so strong, who could watch her sons go to war and always love her country.

She had never seen Grandmother Ethelyn cry before her Father’s funeral, and if she didn't see it, she might not have believed it. She had seen the woman with a broken leg drive herself to the hospital, cursing and angrily shouting the entire way.

Aunt Nora told her emotional pain was worse; saying she lost her family, and that hurt worse than any physical pain. Evangeline knew that was true, as when they lowered her father into the muddy ground, the senior woman sobbed and screamed, falling to her knees. Grandmother reached for the coffin, and one of her distant male relatives had to grab the poor, grieve stricken woman from jumping in after the coffin.

Her Grandmother screamed and wailed. She kept saying the coffin was empty; her son couldn't have been buried in the soil of the country he loved so much. Evangeline was never allowed to know how her father died, but reliving that memory, the memory of Aunt Nora squeezing her hand so tight it felt it would break, she realized how this is what broke the family, the close-knit community the Clawsons made across the states.

When the worst day of Eva's life was over, Grandmother Ethelyn refused to care for Evangeline. She declined to share a hotel room with the child, and she had to bunk with her Aunt. She left for Maryland soon after and told Nora to get the child's possessions, including her dog. Aunt Nora was happy to gain rights of the six-year-old. Grandmother Ethelyn hadn’t looked at Evangeline the same anymore. She felt she did something wrong, but she never knew what.

Nora stopped going to the Holiday events and begun to refuse contact with Ethelyn after abandoning the child. Evangeline didn't know how to feel about it, but she was happy she got her dog back when Aunt Nora collected her things.

Those memories, the memories of her father's death, her dog running away and Grandmother Ethelyn's abandonment, it was the hard ones, she always seemed to cry harder each time. She wanted to remember only the happy, because still faintly, at the back of her mind, she recognized what was happening outside.

Her favorite memories were Uncle Nate's homecoming, her dog and the days they brought home Shaun, then Codsworth. She always wanted to relive those, the tight hugs she got from Uncle Nate when he scooped her up in his arms, the dinner was still Drumlin Diner. He would order a big burger and fries; because he says, that is what he misses the most.

The memory of when Shaun first came home, and she was allowed to hold him was always so peaceful. He was so little, soft. He wouldn't cry as much, and he would sleep all the time. He was like a baby doll, and Eva never stopped treating him like one.

The year where Shaun was born, when Uncle Nate returned from the war and Aunt Nora found work was the best memories of her life. She could vividly remember the taste of smoky burgers that Uncle cooked on his grill in the backyard, she could almost feel Louis' tight grip on her wrist when he dragged her off to play, the way Codsworth would lift her by the underarms with his grabbers when she kept running.

She remembered sitting in her Uncle's lap, listening so excitedly to the Silver Shroud stopping bad guys. She could remember her Aunt's tender hands holding her cheeks in her hands to plant a kiss on her forehead, she even remembered long drives through Boston with Shaun in his car seat hung over the seat, with her dog's head on her lap. She had never felt so calm and loved before that year.

In these memories, she was safe; she didn't have to remember her Uncle and cousin were stolen, how she was left behind. Maybe she was dead, and this was heaven. By the constant stream of dreams, she was never able to think upon this situation thoroughly. Her body was not her own. Her voice was not her own, it only acted out what she remembered. Like a corrupted recorder, she couldn't break from the cycle.

She couldn't change the past, and no matter how much she tried on that test, when she came home, she was still smacked and yelled at by her father.

She was reliving another numbing day of school when everything went black, it was sudden, without warning and she was drowned in darkness. She couldn't feel herself breathing, nor could she move, the panic set into her mind before her eyes shot open, snapping the daze of unconsciousness as all the memories fade, her mind drew blank of all the time she had spent reliving those memories.

Her lungs took heavy inhales, causing the poor girl to cough as the icy air poorly settled in her lungs. Her body felt weak and beaten, her fingers numb from the ice that surrounded her, that laced her jumpsuit and flesh. The pod releases the door, causing her body to slam against the hard flooring below.

What happened when she was refrozen was bleary, but she had stood and tried to bang on the door of the pod. Which caused her to fall over once the seal had been broken, lifting the metal flap of the clamber. She curled on the hard surface; She was so overwhelmed, her body ached and shivered, her heartbeat felt so slow. She couldn’t think straight past how freezing everything felt, how soaked her jumpsuit was.

She curled, her knees pressed to her chest as she tried to regain her warmth, huffing her lukewarm breath on her redden knuckles. It was such a contrast her mind was blank, attempting to recover.

The ice slowly melted off her, only causing her to become more cold, she held onto her soaked sweater, sniffling quietly. She shut her eyes tight, pretending her Uncle had scooped her up in his warm arms like that winter night when she had fallen in the snow.

She was only semi-conscious, drifting in and out of sleep, her body felt weak with exhaustion, but she didn't want to sleep, she had slept so long- why was she so tired? Her fisted hands were to her mouth, trying to soak in the warmth of her quiet whimpers and breath. Before her, she saw the doll she had been trapped with- laying right beside her. Her hands extend, slowly pulling the comfort item to her chest.

She recovered slowly, her head lifting to see the pod of her Uncle's- emptied. She stampers up, on her feeble knees and hurried across the room to the pod. She had tried to slam her fists against the window, but her eyes caught the lever.

She pulled it down, panicked and moving erratically. The door unsealed, slowly opening. She shoved her head inside once the door had opened wide. The icy water still dripped from the chair, where no one sat. The room was cold, so cold she couldn't stop her trembling. She stood, on sore feet towards the pod that was next to her. Aunt Nora was still inside, feeling a flicker of hope, she trudged towards the glass window of the shell.

Her arms were tightly wrapped around her, her thighs pressed together, panting as she looked to the lever, reaching a meek hand out and pulling it downward. It rang a noise of error, making the young girl released a choked cry of panic.

'Malfunction in Cryo Pod manual release override.' The child had no concept of what the voice meant, panic beginning to fill her senses as the door would not open. She kept slamming the lever handle upward, then down, trying to force it to work. The same error noise came, making her grip tighter against the switch.

She tried the other clambers, gaining the same response. "-Hello? Anyone!?" She yelled, hearing her voice bounce off the walls, her only answer was the humming of machines and the leaking icicles.

Eva couldn't stay calm, she was a child, alone, in a place she didn't know. She started to bunch her fists in her black bob, beginning to pull downward. It was a nervous habit, her doctor said, she missed the rough hands of her Uncle's who pulled her wrists so gently away from her hair, and how her Aunt would run her thin fingers through her hair, humming a calming tone to get her to untense.

But Evangeline didn't have this comfort now, she had to begin her breathing methods to calm herself down- she needed her Uncle, or a scientist, to get her Aunt out of the pod. That wouldn't be hard, she found adults all the time where she thought there were none. She removed her hands from her hair, gingerly, as she saw all the black strands on her palm. She narrowed her eyes as she realized what she had done.

She had pulled her hair again, that wasn't good- she hasn't done that since her father died. She waves the strands the best she could, but her clammy hands kept the strands glued to her skin. Frustrated, she just rubbed her hands against the skin-tight suit. She felt so constricted in the blue suit, wet and cold. It was like a constant hose of cold water sprayed over her.

Walking past the sleeves of chambers, the echoes of her footsteps reminded her of how alone she indeed was. When she breathed, soft wisps of clouds left her lips, the constant sound of dripping water followed her in these metal, blue walls. She hated it. She missed her warm house, where her stuffed toys and blanket were, where Codsworth was.

The bay door slides apart as she began towards it, letting out a soft noise of relief as she saw the emptied corridor. The hallway was once filled with people and scientists, but now all that laid was a scattered toolbox, and a few other miscellaneous possessions laid alone. She longed for the steady hand that guided her this far before, and the voices that echoed off the metal shell of the Vault.

Now all she heard was her heavy breathing and the spattering of the dripping water. Everything was cold and foggy, making everything even more uncomfortable. She felt as if a monster, maybe the rubber-skinned one that took her Uncle away- would be here any minute to snatch her up.

Clinging to her damp stuffed companion, she stood before the tall door, tilting her head when it wouldn't open. She placed a hand upon the chilled metal, feeling a shiver journey from her palm to her spine. Eva gulped, realizing the entrance would not open for her. She looked about the short hall, two doors stood opposite the wall of the other.

She held onto the doll tighter, brushing her cheek against the head of the thing as she attempted the next door beside her, watching it open before her. She exhaled a breath she had not realized when she saw the next room. Her chest heaved with sudden excitement, as she knew adults must be close. Someone who help children like her find her Uncle or get her Aunt out of those cold pods- any adult, who could fix what was happening to her.

That was what adults did. Uncle Nate had taught her to go to adults for problems, from scraped knees to feeling lost on a math problem. The sight before her came alive as the door slid upward into the wall, a long, blue staircase stood before her.

The stairsteps had minor aging, some of the yellow paint had chipped, as the metal beneath her had rusted from the constant moisture in the air. She felt she would slip and fall from the slick texture of the flooring beneath her feet. Her black boots squeak as she held onto the saturated railing, using it as support as her other hand pressed tightly against the doll on her chest.

Her steps echoed, intertwining with the other noises- she couldn't help but feel the isolation. As she entered the new area of the Vault, she noticed the fog was less dense here, in this small room, yet outside the window, she could still see the thick fog that lingered where the pods had been. Eva's eyes were unfocused, simply roaming as she strolled her way through before she saw a large, darkened spot on the window.

Tilting her head, she attempted to get a closer look- only for the spot to crawl down from the window, towards the metal floor. Her heart sank, beating against her ribcage to a painful degree. It was some giant bug! The biggest she had ever seen! Her free hand went to the collar of her sweater, taking a cautious step back as the bug seemed to take more interest in something else, flying off the window- she realized it had been on the other side of the window pane.

She stood there, struggling to recover- she swallowed thickly as she squeezed the comfort item, evening her breath. Her hands were holding tightly on her sweater so she would not pull her hair again- Uncle said it was a bad habit and she needed to learn to stop. She bit her lip, chewing at the inner flesh of her lower lip until she felt a calm wave over her once more. She inhaled, releasing all the tension in her body.

Moving forward, she took a moment to scan the layout of the lower section she had indentured to- the small place only had one sliding door, so, she began towards it. Her eyes glance back to the higher zone she had just departed from, she had no idea of how large this vault was so she may might get lost.

Eva made a mental note as she walked through, she wished she had some chalk, she had some in her room, but she was rushed out so fast, she couldn't have brought anything but Booboo. The next door was just as the others, unadorned with the yellow label of '111' upon it. The door opened for her when she stepped forward, allowing her to travel further inside the maze she had been stuck in.

The long, curling corridor had beige paint to it, perhaps she was near the end! The lights dimmed, this room had no fog, but the dust was flowing inside the room inside the rays of shining illuminations. Her pace quickened, finding yet, another door in front of her. She was becoming sick of the sight of doors and new rooms and then another door. She looked down to Booboo.

She tried to soothe her nerves humming a song, humming a quiet tone her Aunt would play while she read over a case. It was a song her mother used to love when she was younger, as she was told. She swayed her head to the tune in her mind, as the next sliding door released her from the room, revealing the next one.

Blue returned to this room, it was much larger with a table only a few feet from her, when she scanned over her surroundings, she saw an opened kitchen area and another door. Her hand grazes across her torso, feeling the sudden realization of how hungry she was. She had been dreaming of food she almost forgot she hasn't eaten for a while, maybe a week.

Her mind perked at the idea of food, she first went to the table, hoping for a clue to find an adult with. The surface had been barred of possessions other than a simple Beaton, the one with those guard used in those news footages she wasn't allowed to watch. She held it, it felt a bit wet, almost hard to use with such a lanky handle in her tiny hand.

She had only a moment to think, as she heard the slithering of something on the hard ground, rolling her heels to see another huge bug, and it was coming towards her! She tried to step back, newfound fear and panic slowing her speed to sluggish pace, as the roach lurched forward, it bit her ankle, and despite the thick layer of her boots, she felt the painful pinch of the bug bite.

The attack pierced the flesh, she screamed, swinging the new found weapon as she banged it over and over the now crushed corpse of the insect. She flopped backward on her backside, looking to her bloodied ankle- the fabric was torn as around the newly opened wound was becoming painted with red.

She wept there for some time, in frustration, in pain, in fear. She slammed her fist against the floor, having a fit as she couldn't take it anymore. It felt like a nightmare, big, scary bugs, all alone, and the creepy noises that followed her in this vault. She slammed her feet against the metal floor, crying heavily, yelling until her throat was sore. This continued until her cheeks were streaked with salty tears, her voice was rasped and her eyes were dried from crying them all out.

After a moment of rocking as she held her doll, she sat back up, going towards the kitchen area. Though, despite searching thoroughly, there was no food to be found. She felt so hungry, so thirsty, how could there be nothing? She went through the bedroom with the bunk beds, but it was bare. Everything was so bare.

The rooms were stripped, and without a sign of life but in the littering trash. She felt slighted, she just wanted to eat! She just wanted her Uncle and Cousin safe, or for her Aunt's pod to open! Why wouldn't anything work? She rubs her face in exasperation, letting out grumbles and murmurs. Leaving the room, she came to the next one. This one had some lighting shooting out from the large, box-like structures in the center of the room. This room was large but looked to the only house whatever these large, lightning boxes were.

Being soaking wet, she knew she didn't want to get a shock. She presses to the wall, sliding past before she heard the same crawling from before. She barely had time to smack the head of the thing with her Beaton before it flew up again. She hated that those terrible things could fling itself at her.

When she got to the next door, she found what looked to be an office of some sort, everything was muddled and messy, like the rest of the vault. The decay was still here, and she found something in the chair of the long desk. Her eyes fluttered at it; mind drew blank before she came to the sense it was a Halloween skeleton. It was October! She kneels before what she had presumed was a prop.

She stood back up, turning as she took a full look at the room.

"Hello? Anyone!" She shouts, she had wandered inside the Overseer's bedroom, finding yet, another emptied room. She looked through the locker, only to find a box of bullets and a single messager bag, thick blue leather with Vault-Tec's logo embedded on. She slid it over her shoulder, she promised to return it to the owner when she found them.

Eva grunts, trying to keep herself from boiling over again. Was she really all alone here? Vault-Tec was supposed to help her, keep her safe. She returned to the main office for the overseer, guns scattered alongside the surface with some needles-like weapons. Her eyebrows furrow, knowing what this was, a stimpack. She hated stimpacks! She had to take one when she broke her arm riding a bike, Uncle shoved it into her arm and pressed the button. Something foreign, wrong, entered her, going through her bloodstream.

But her broken arm healed on the way to the hospital, they were so fast and when she grew used to the feeling, painless. They came commonly in first aid kits and even Aunt Nora had some stored in the bathroom's mirror cabinet. She grabbed one, stabbing the needle into her shoulder as she pushed the chemicals into her bloodstream. She felt them course, making her fingers curl in reaction.

The wound on her ankle, the minor bruises of being tossed out of the pod and frostbite faded from her skin. She grabbed the next two, placing them inside the emptied bag as she continued around the room, anything that looked interesting she would take. For a child, anything shiny or unique to her world view.

She saw the gun on the counter; Uncle Nate would be so angry if he saw her with a gun without adult observation. He had taught her faintly how to hold one and aim, but she wasn't truly shown how to use one. She held the gun. It was so much more massive than one would think, the trigger didn't seem to have hesitation as she did; a quivering finger could kill a man without a thought.

The pistol laid a new weight in her palm, holding the handle tightly. The idea of shooting a roach up gave her more peace of mind than that Beaton that she had stashed away in her newly found bag- she would return it to whoever it belongs to when she found an adult. She tried to make her way out to the next door, seeing it not opening like the other one. Her hand presses to the door, but still, the metallic door would not budge.

"Dang it!" She shouts, stamping her feet as she was met with another locked door. She crosses her arms, taking the sight of the small room once more. The room but bare of everything but the terminal that still laid on the surface- she had taken everything else.

Moving the Halloween prop, She sat the comfy seat up. She seated herself as it creaked in old age. She attempted to start up the poor thing. The computer outer layer was full of decay of time and tears. Her caregivers had a family terminal so she could understand the general layout.

Her eyes perk at the option to open the tunnel door. She clicked it within seconds of reading it, before happily crawling off the chair and hurrying off towards the door. She lifted her shoulders, grinning with glee as she opened the door all on her own!

She ran towards the door, only to find the population of roaches that were on the wall. She moved slowly, lifting the pistol in her hand and aiming the barrel at the first.

She pulled the trigger, she felt the wind knocked out of her, the bones in her hand trembled. Evangeline cried out, stepping back and recoiling in sudden pain. Her ears rang as she used the hand holding her doll to grip against her earlobe.

She had only used a BB gun before; a real gun was so much worse. She barely had time to recover when the same creeping of insect feet filled the air. How in the world was there so many? With little time for thought, she had begun to bang the barrel of the gun as a weapon.

Each slam of the metal against bug made a disgusting crushing of guts and innards. She shivers at the sound, stepping back at the dead bugs she had just slaughtered.

The gun was now coated in bug remains, she gagged, tossing the dirty thing in her bag as she went for her Beaton again. Luckily enough, the gun did the job as a Beaton and got rid of the rest of the disgusting things. She stepped past the crushed spatters, going towards the next door.

Another beige room was what she was met with, she felt the tingle of hope drain from her form as she trudged forward, feeling near tears. She follows the curve of the room, holding the handle of her Beaton tight. She was going to get out, she would escape. She would find Vault-Tec workers and get her Aunt out, she would find Policeman who would get back her stolen loved ones. She felt so exhausted, so mentally and physically tired from running about the small Vault, she didn’t know if she believed that anymore.

She couldn't go much longer, she wanted to go home. To see Codsworth, and if Ducky had been found yet. She came to the next door, releasing a breath she had not known she was keeping in her lungs and walked forward to the metallic pane to see if she was finally out.

The door slid apart, to display the room that seemed she was in only a moment prior with her Uncle. The room was cold, with a moist fog that lingered. The room smelled of stale water and something rotten, Evangeline couldn't put her finger on the odor. She moved forward, feeling the fatigue placing weight on her shoulders.

The roach came forward, barreling towards her before she swung the Beaton a single time, hearing the scream-like squash as it laid motionless, crushed to death in one smack. It was getting easier to kill those things, and she was happy for that, she couldn't handle another thing hurting her.

She sidestepped the props that littered in the floor and the sideways table.

She walked to the platform, and tried to remove the plastic cover of the button, grunting in another wave of frustration washed over her, she had begun to bang her fist on the plastic lid of the electric board. She stomped her foot once before she felt an object bounce off the blue, rusted floor. Evangeline glanced down, to find a Pip-Boy in the wrist of a decor skeleton.

Her Uncle wanted one so badly, but they could never afford one. Aunt Nora said he should have been gifted one for being a War Hero, she kneels, lifting the dusty thing to her face. She drew a smiley face in the dust covering the screen, she knew this would be a great present for her Uncle! She snapped it to her wrist, flicking a couple of the buttons until it came online.

She smiled at it functioning, wiping off the rest of the dust with her sweaty palm. The smeared screen still allowed her to see the Vault Boy holding a thumbs up at her, making her instinctively copy his gesture back at the screen. She copied the Vault Boy's thumb pose when she saw it- her Uncle would laugh when she did it. Her face fell as she tore her eyes from the screen, finding herself isolated with only the hums of the machine to be her friend.

Evangeline was happy for a new toy, but she still needed to get out of the metal cage. She felt the hanging cord from the Pip-Boy dangling and bumping against her stomach, she grabbed it and glanced over the metal piece meant to connect to something. So, she inserted it inside the hole of the board, joyous as it entered, and the plastic lid flew upward.

She nearly jumped in pure joy for how fast that was- she was almost out! Almost to adults! She slammed her palm against the button. Her reaction was cut short only seconds in her celebration by the sudden flashing of lights.

'Vault door cycling sequence initiated. Please stand back.’

The Vault suddenly became dim, with only flashing white lights being the source of electricity. An orange circling spotlight began to activate- so much happened at once that Evangeline covered her ears, whining at the surroundings becoming slurred and different.

The Vault door was unsealed by the box machine that hooked from the ceiling moving forward, connecting to the door and pulling it side, so she was quick to hurry and climb atop the gate platform. The machine shook to action, beginning to connect to the Vault door slowly. It squeaked and whined in protest as it was rusted and time withered, barely able to make the journey to get her to the other side.

There, she was met with the same steps she was forced up with her Uncle, the same water dripping and robotic hums she had grown used to. The paint was rusted and peeled, giving the place an abandoned, aged appearance. The metal husk of the bunker was silent other than what she did, how her footsteps echoed, how her voice traveled through the halls. The total isolation was bringing her closer to panic. The lack of adults and live made her so nervous, she couldn't wait to get out of the Vault, to see adults and Louis.

The adrenaline was fading, she could feel the weakness in her legs and the wear of her mind. She could imagine nights of falling asleep on her Uncle's lap while listening to the Silver Shroud, where she would be half awake as she was carried to her bedroom, then tucked in. She would be given a kiss on the forehead by him, his warm palm running over her cheek. She ran her petite hand over her cheek in the same fashion, hoping for the same effect- but her chilled flesh didn't give the same comfort.

Nights of being sung British nursery rhymes from Codsworth and Aunt Nora's silky voice filled her tired mind as she made her way down the steps. The echoes of her own feet almost mocked her by how loud it was, how the dripping water rang in her ears, it was silent, lifeless.

Where were the adults? They were everywhere before, filling the rooms to the brim but now, now it was so quiet. Quieter than waking up at night in her suburban home, quieter than locking herself in her room after school to read books and poems, the silence was numbing her brain.

She stepped onto the elevator, and without her having to so much as lift a finger, it began to close the metal barring, trapping her inside. The child chose then that she was freed and safe, it was time to allow herself to give in to all the overwhelming emotions she felt. She allowed her legs to give out on her, flopping down on the floor below her.

Eva rested her legs, rubbing her calf as she glanced around her new surrounding. The shaky machine was slowly lifting her upwards. She hugged her knees to her chest, taking a moment to breathe- no adults were in the vault, they were all frozen, but she couldn't get them out. Maybe the rubber-skinned monster and her Uncle were in the surface, up above. But, that big explosion… what would that mean for everyone?

She covered her face in her knees, beginning to sob lost in her thoughts, of the realization that maybe she was all alone.The welling of tears finally beginning to pour. She whined meekly, allowing her shoulders to quiver and slack against her frame. She just wanted her Uncle, she wipes her nose, maybe Codsworth was still there, he always knew what to do, when she scraped her knees, when her caregivers weren't home and she needed a permission slip signed and it was the day of the field trip.

The darkness swallowed her, this time, she wasn't encased in strong arms and a soothing hand on her head. She was alone, shivering quietly, as she saw the entrance of the vault slowly open, sliding apart as rays of light shined through. It burned her irises, making her cover them at first as she was brought face to face with the outside world once more.

The warm washes over her frozen skin, her hand lowers from her eyes so she could see the beauty- all she saw a barren wasteland of death. The grass was dead or gone, the trees were stripped of life, and the prop skeletons from inside scattered the world surrounding her. It was so much more warm but louder, less welcoming than the vault. As her eyes roam the new realm she found herself in.

Evangeline could only wonder what new monsters laid awake for her here. The cold wind hit her flesh, as she slowly steps off the hard floor. "Hello!?" She called out, to anyone to hear her. She walked towards the gate, "Louis?" She cried, walking past the gate’s entrance towards the dirt path she knew so well.

The dirt path seemed more ominous than the last time she had been down this road, and the times she and Louis had been playing in the borderline of the forest. The way they could run from the curves of the trees, using leaves and sticks as ammo, and chasing each other from one side of the forest to another were some of her best memories.

Now, the leaves were gone from the bark; the wildlife she had loved was withered and gone. Leaving a pit of a feeling she could not describe, a lonely, isolated emotion. A feeling of being the only thing alive in such a place surrounded by death. On the new lonely road, she headed to the place where she thought Codsworth would be.

Her home, Sanctuary Hills.

#FanFiction #Writing #Fanfic #Fallout #Fallout 4 #Vault Tec #Child Sole AU #Child Sole Survivor Au #Evangeline #Oc #Original Characters #Canon-Typical Violence #Mentions of Abuse #Commonwealth Survival Guide

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