#Robert MacCready figure

[shatinn]

Fallout 4 - Merry Christmas 2023

merry christmas/season's greetings/just have fun/festive wishes to all who follows me or who might come across with these cuties

[neon-tigre95]

i do love me some mac and cheese

[atombonniebaby]

Look who got FO4 to work again! Whoo!

And I'm taking a full-on Nuclear Winter approach to my mod list, and OMG, the winter clothes I've found for this little dude. 😍

Bonus shot

I was too busy concentrating on getting the smoke looking all awesome and shiz that I failed to notice something wasn't quite right, until I ramped up the lighting...

I think my exact words were, "Mac...buddy, where are your eyebrows!?"

He must have peeved off the Deeks again...😅

[hrefna-the-raven]

Heart for hire

Fallout masterlist - main masterlist

Summary: It has been some time ago since MacCready and you found each other when you first stepped into the Third Rail. On the same day, after a year, you met again, same spot, same time to cherish in the memory of your first encounter.

Warnings: none I think...

Notes: slightly off canon and I haven't played MacCready's affinity arc yet and no review, this was typed and posted^^ living on the edge despite constant anxiety *whoop whoop* xD

Part 1

Robert spotted you as soon as you walked down the stairs, wearing the exact same blue vault suit you had donned a year prior when you first stumbled into Goodneighbor. A genuine grin unfurled on his face as you casually ambled towards him. The notion that, after all that happened with Lucy, he was fortunate enough to discover love again, still seemed surreal to him. But he knew better than to turn away from the blessing that slept 210 years in a vault only to find him shortly after waking up. Your steps halted in front of the table he was sitting at, humming innocently to yourself as your gaze trailed over his figure. From his seat, MacCready lifted his gaze, his eyes squinting marginally as he mustered all his fortitude to maintain a neutral expression.

"If you're preaching about the Atom, or looking for a friend, you've got the wrong guy. If you need a hired gun… then maybe we can talk."

A soft chuckle echoed within you as he reiterated the same statement he had flung at you one year ago.

"What makes you think I'd be an Atomite? And who knows? Maybe you'd want me to be your friend?"

He snorted softly, the corners of his lips curling into a familiar amused smile from back then. His little vault dweller sauntering through the Third Rail, tossing back her audacious retort with the same bravado.

"I don't make friends", he threw back at you playfully, followed by a flirtatious wink, "I fear we'd get too close and our lips might accidentally touch."

Innocently, you shrugged, drawing a chair beside him and settling down. You evaded his look as if it were a blazing inferno, fearful of being consumed by its flames, incapable of continuing the little teasing game the two of you were playing.

"Oh you know, I was told that accidents tend to happen quite a lot in the Commonwealth."

Grinning devilishly, you reached for his beer, took a hearty gulp before putting it back on the table, finally holding his gaze. His face contorted into a mock surprise, melodramatically placing a hand over his heart.

"The nerve of you!"

You signaled to Whitechapel Charlie for another round and shifted closer to MacCready, inhaling deeply to steady your nerves as you savoured the unique blend of Gwinnett pils and gunpowder that marked his scent.

"You seem a little young to be a hired gun. Tell me your story and the next few drinks are on me."

Charlie's interrupted you, the robot hummed cheerfully as he placed the beverages on the table and disappeared again. Robert exhaled sharply, consuming half of his beer in a single gulp to steady his nerves.

"First you're drinking my beer, and now you want to hear my life story… What's next? My social security number?", he quipped.

You chuckled at his comment, your heart almost melting at the fact that he would remember the little things you told him about the life you lead before the war.

"I'm simply intrigued by this handsome man sitting all alone in a place like this, plus I have no other engagements for tonight, so if you'd be so kind and satisfy a lady's curiosity", you whispered enticingly, your fingers playing around the bottle's neck, moving up and down before taking a drink.

The more your fingers played with the bottle, the more MacCready found himself fixated on them, suppressing an urgent groan that welled up in his throat.

"Handsome man, huh? Well, there's not much to tell… stuck in Little Lamplight, never knew my parents."

He finished off his drink, releasing a contented sigh as the mild buzz from the alcohol gradually spread through his body. A calm evening, no impending disaster in sight, there was no other place in the whole Wastelands he'd prefer over this very spot.

"My, my, what a tragic story", you gently stroked his shoulder, your fingers leisurely tracing a path down his torso, "but the poor handsome merc hasn't told me his name yet. Or is that as mysterious as his past?"

Your hand settled flat against his chest, sensing his heart rate quickening beneath your touch. His lips quivered subtly under your gaze, struggling mightily to suppress the temptation to kiss you.

"That's a mystery for you to figure out", he leaned closer to you and whispered, "but I have that very close friend who calls me Mac."

A soft laugh escaped your lips as you recalled the moment you had chosen that nickname for him when he first revealed his name. It took him some time to get used it, persistently expressing his displeasure at the moniker you had chosen until the day his heart succumbed to your affection. Since then, the once hated nickname became the song your heart sang to his each day, a tender tune he would never tire of. MacCready felt the threat of drowning within the craving sea of his desire for you, the screaming of his longing for you grew deafening, making it impossible for him to continue denying your lips. His arms wrapped around your waist, drawing you from your seat to his welcoming lap, as his lips passionately locked with yours. Only when breath became a necessity did you part, gasping and laughing softly as you affectionately rubbed your nose against his.

"Having met you, having you this close to me has made me happier than I've ever been before", he murmured, his face nestled in the curve of your neck.

A year ago, he lingered alone in the Third Rail, drinking to numb his mind, a desperate attempt to escape the sad truth of a dead wife and a son in the merciless grip of an unknown plague, well aware that the gunners might show up and finally put a bullet through his head to end his despair-ridden existence. But instead a different kind of trouble found him that night, the kind of trouble that would plant its roots in his heart, flourishing and growing into the most beautiful thing he could have never dreamt of. It took him quite some time to finally see the true blessing of you choosing to annoy him that night, stubbornly clinging to his side and dragging him along while fighting for the freedom of the people in the Commonwealth and to free your son from the clutches of the Institute. You were the silver lining on his horizon, the sunshine he had eagerly waited for after enduring numerous calamities in his existence. His thoughts fleetingly flitted back to the silver ring he had spotted in Fallon's basement shop back in Diamond City. Maybe he'd quickly drop by tomorrow, praying that it had not yet been purchased by someone else in the meantime. He had not yet planned on how exactly he'd ask you How he would propose was yet to be determined, but his conviction was unwavering - he desired, no he needed, you to be his wife, being bound together in love. Eventually, he dreamt of a time when your sons both would reunite with you and in good health, finally enabling you both to enjoy the serene family life that both of you longed for.

Feel free to reblog if you enjoyed the story :)

[velvet-verve]

my updated fic list for perusal at your convenience <3

{ listed in alphabetical order cause i'm just sexy like that }

Blue Moon

deacon x male sole survivor

Deacon is a man who has lived through so many ends of the world. At least a handful, surely. He's gotten used to anticipating them. Timing them out, even. Then, he meets a man who has lived through a couple of atom bombs, and he feels an itch to check his watch. And it takes that man disappearing in a sci-fi bug zapper for shit to actually start to happen between the two of them. What a couple of stubborn pricks.

Cat Scratch Fever

butch deloria x female lone wanderer

Butch Deloria had always had bum luck. A little troubled, a little snarky, and quite possibly doomed. Everybody knew it. Janie Weissman had always been a little out there. A little temperamental, a little odd, and quite possibly suffering from a minor chemical imbalance. Everybody knew that, too. What the people of Vault 101 don't know, however, is that's just the shavings off the top of a very large iceberg. In a Vault that seems to shrink with every passing year, two restless spirits find they're more similar than they ever gave each other credit for. But will that newfound connection, the one that made underground life bearable, survive when a crack is found in the thick walls of Vault 101?

Dogfight; Mk II

deacon x female sole survivor

A woman out of time. A man out of options. And their story told out of order. Deacon has lots of rules. Rules, not to live by, but simply to stay alive by. Rule Number Twenty-Six: Never break character. Rule Number Five: No leather pants in the summertime. Rule Number Nineteen: If it's gone green, you must intervene. Rule Number Two: Never underestimate the enemy. And finally, Rule Number One. Never let your guard down. But in the end, aren't all rules doomed to be broken? It's ironic, really. All that pining over Vault 111, and when the Morningstar emerges, she seems intent on burning herself out.

Fugue State

rj maccready x sole survivor

Miriam Braxster. That's what it said on her driver's license. That's how conductors introduced her. It's a name she'd hoped one day would be printed on a brass plaque on a door in some prestigious conservatory. And it's what it said on the very top of sheet music the world didn't even get to listen to before it destroyed itself. Mac's pretty sure the only place Robert Joseph MacCready has ever been written down is on the note tucked into the basket his parents left him in.

Strange Fruit

noir! rj maccready x sole survivor

Boston. 2080. A city with as many shady secrets as it can hold, and maybe even a few more. The wealth gap keeps widening, crime isn't cleaning itself up anytime soon, and dark conspiracies run through banned papers in underground speakeasies. As if the threat of the Chinese atom bomb isn't enough. A stray comes in from the rain, and R.J. MacCready is sucked into a twisting, sordid mystery that sinks to the depths of Boston's most well kept secrets, all centered around the last girl you'd ever expect to have so many monsters in her closet. But, as Nick Valentine likes to say, one should always expect the unexpected. And looks can be very, very deceiving.

Solace, Part I: Ask Me No Questions, I'll Tell You No Lies

deacon x female sole survivor

Two souls marred by grief. She is a public figure. To the Commonwealth; a symbol of freedom, of resistance and strength. A prewar savior. An image He painted. He is a faceless, nameless man. A spy for an underground militant organization hanging on by a thread. A shadow of his former self. Their connection cannot be denied, even as subterfuge and paranoia runs rampant. They both have enough secrets to drown in. And they're struggling not to fall for each other.

Unobtainium

rj maccready x female sole survivor

It's often been said that R.J. MacCready has a bad attitude. He owns it. He flaunts it, at times. But when the Minutemen's growing influence leads to an encounter with General Preston Garvey himself, he's introduced to a woman who might give him a run for his money. Because Sabrina Minor, Doctor Sabrina Minor that is, is also famous for a very bad attitude. She's brilliant, and she's a pain in the ass. And unfortunately, she's about to become MacCready's problem.

pssst. green means active!

[fallout-new-mudkip]

Edges of a Coin

May, 2288

Another quiet, peaceful night.

Goodneighbor's mayor kicked back in a cold plastic lawn chair on his balcony and observed the sparkling sky above. Mayor Hancock popped a mentats tab and let out a sigh. It was the third night, almost in a row, with no riots or disputes in his neighborhood.

Is it something in the stars? A cosmic power allowing the drifters and outcasts to act more rational?

Hancock's near-quiet was interrupted when he recognized two voices to his right.

"Looks like Daisy closed up shop for tonight." said the taller figure.

"What? No, I can't wait! Duncan can't wait!" wailed the shorter, slimmer man.

"Maybe she's still awake." Nathan sounded hopeful. "It's a little late for visitors but she might understand."

"Ugh, Nate, she's like 280 years old! Old people go to bed early!" Robert Joseph MacCready peeked into his jacket's interior pocket to make sure the vial was still there: the supposed cute for his son's terrifying illness.

"Her caravan doesn't leave until 8am anyway." Hancock pointed out, now about three steps behind the pair.

"What the frick!" Mac spun around and jumped almost fast enough for his green cap to fly off.

Nathan softly chuckled. "Good evening, Johnny."

"How'd you? Oh, nevermind. You're right. Tonight or first thing in the morning, this isn't getting to my boy any faster." Mac sighed.

"That's right. Feel free to crash at my pad, I got some sleeping bags upstairs that are free." Hancock offered.

Nathan smirked. "Got one that'll fit RJ and I together?"

The merc elbowed him. "Funny."

Hancock at least found it amusing. Of course MacCready has his humorous and flirty side, but when he had a mission, such as curing his son, that part was switched off. Nathan was the opposite. It took his friends helping him lighten up and the pure insanity of the wasteland to allow Nate to let himself go once in a blue moon. Around people like RJ MacCready and John Hancock, he could let his guard down for a moment.

Nate laid down his sleeping bag just close enough to MacCready's that he could hold Mac if needed.

"Nathan, I don't know if I'll be able to sleep!" The merc squirmed about in his cocoon.

"I know, love. Luckily for you we're at Hancock's. I'm sure he has something that'll knock you out."

[unrepentantweirdo]

I’m going to be attempting the February prompt challenge by @creativepromptsforwriting, mostly if not completely in Fallout 4. This is a little late but better late than never!

Side note: I wrote the majority of this in the early hours of the morning, so it isn’t my best work. I hope you enjoy it regardless.

Pairing: RJ MacCready/F!Sole Survivor (Andi Miller) (not canonical to the big story I’m working on)

TW: a little swearing, that’s all.

February Prompt, Day 1: Love Letter

RJ,

Robert,

Don’t worry. Even though I’m calling you by your actual first name, you’re not in trouble. Honestly, it’s the opposite. It’s been a month since you left for the Capital Wasteland, and I miss having the best sniper in the Commonwealth at my side. Hopefully you’ve made it there safely by now, and have Duncan in your arms. God, I hope the medicine works. Please let me know.

It’s been quieter here without you. It feels like it was yesterday when I met you in the VIP room of the Third Rail, not the year it’s actually been. When I first met you, I originally thought you were a bit of an ass with how you greeted me. In your defense, it was Goodneighbor and you were the first mercenary I’d ever met. Your shooting saved my ass more times than I could count in those early days together. You helped me get better at it, and we became a damn good team. I’d been wanting to pay you back for it, so when you told me about the Gunners, I figured that would be a good opportunity. We tore through them, and I still say I had one more than you on my tally. I think that was the day we became friends, though I already considered you my friend sooner than that. You gave me back the caps I hired you with and told us we were even, that you didn’t like owing debts. But I would have done it for free.

We were in Diamond City and I had just haggled with Moe about a pay increase for the baseball stuff he wanted when you asked to talk to me. I guided us to Takahashi’s and we talked over bowls of noodles. You opened up to me for the first time there and told me about Little Lamplight. How you were the mayor of a cave of children (I would have loved to be a bloatfly on the wall to see the stuff you would have gotten into), and left at sixteen. Just another thing we share, although I was kicked out by my parents. I think that was the day I started to see you as something more.

When we stopped in Goodneighbor to get more information about the runaway Cabot daughter, we called it a night and lounged in the VIP room I’d hired you in months ago. It was there over a glass of whiskey that you told me about your family. Your wife Lucy, and your little boy Duncan. How Duncan was so sick, with a disease from the Old World. I’d only heard about it from my brother when he was researching it, and how Med-Tek was working on the cure for it. That cure was exactly what you needed. At first, I was disappointed to learn you were married. Confused the hell out of me at first. But, I was also happy for you because of the way you looked when you talked about her. Love like that was hard to find before the bombs dropped, probably even more so now. Besides, who wouldn’t want to be with you?

That’s why I made it my mission to get that medicine, no matter what happened to me. You both deserved to have your son healthy, have a chance at a family. I barely remember anything from when we took that place on, mostly because I’d ended up injecting myself with enough Psycho to take down a yao guai by the end of it. We were covered in blood and bits, and I’d screwed up my left arm by the time we got to the sublevel. One of the ferals had started working on your other duster sleeve, thankfully it didn’t break skin. But everything we went through was worth it when I placed that cure in your hands. I’ll never forget that expression as long as I live, the sheer relief and happiness on your face. Then you hugged me. For the first time I could remember since I had gotten out of the vault, I felt safe. I felt like I was home.

It took a couple of weeks for the caravan to get to Goodneighbor, and we spent it doing odd jobs. The last big job we did was taking back the Castle. I thought we weren’t going to make it a couple of times, the damn overgrown lobster wouldn’t stop dousing us with acid. But the tide turned when I dragged out the rocket launcher that was half buried in one of the rooms. You looked like you were having the time of your life shooting it once it was on its last leg, any fear you’d felt gone. In the aftermath those ocean blue eyes of yours sparkled when you talked about how that was going to be one of the best stories for Duncan yet. That night after the mirelurk boil, you brought me to the top of the fort and we sat there under the stars. You gave me the figure that Lucy carved for you, and told me about her.

My heart broke for you when you told me how she died, and how some days you wished you’d died with her. I understood that feeling more than anything, but it was important that you knew that I was glad you were still here. It ended up coming out as it counted for something that you saved your son. When you told me that I helped you like Lucy did, I wanted to tell you how I felt. How I still feel. But you were going to leave the next day, and it didn’t feel right. That, and I’m a bit of a coward sometimes. But now, I have to go somewhere I may not come back from. And I have to go alone. It may be selfish, but I need you to know this before I go.

I love you, Robert.

I love all of you, even the parts of yourself that you hate. You are honorable, kind, and strong. I can already hear you fighting me on the first two, and it’s not going to work. Because it’s the truth. You changed from who you were, you’re no longer that person. And it’s been an amazing thing to watch.

A part of me will always love Nate, just as I imagine a part of you will always love Lucy. But I know that Nate wouldn’t want me to spend the rest of my life mourning, and he’d want me to be happy. He said as much before he was sent to Anchorage. I’m ready to move on. If you aren’t, or you don’t feel the same towards me, that’s okay. Just know that no matter what, you’ll always be my best friend.

Hopefully this letter makes its way into your hands. By the time you get it, what I’m going into will be over, for good or bad. I hope to hear from you soon, and that I’ll be here to read it.

Yours always,

Cassandra Miller (Yes, I’m using my first name.)

MacCready had read the letter three times now over the course of the journey, and was starting on a fourth when a man’s voice brought him out of the focus he was in.

“Coming up on Goodneighbor now, just letting ya know.”

Giving the caravan leader man a nod of acknowledgment, he carefully folded the slightly worn letter back up before placing it in the inner pocket of his duster. What was she thinking, going somewhere so damn dangerous by herself. It had been six weeks since MacCready had gotten that letter, and he’d been slowly going insane ever since. Lone told him to go, and he only agreed when she told him that they would all follow after they finished packing. He’d planned on moving to the Commonwealth for some time, it was a lot better than the Wasteland. More stable, and safer. He was just waiting until Duncan got enough strength back to travel. Safety, and the woman he’d come to love was there too.

MacCready didn’t know when he’d fallen in love with Andi, but he had. It scared the hell out of him at first, because he didn’t think he could love anyone after Lucy. He also feared losing another person he loved and cared for. But there was one major difference between her and Lucy: she knew how to fight. Lucy could fire a handgun pretty well, but that was it. He’d had to teach her how to shoot, but it hadn’t saved her that rainy night. But Andi? Good god, she could fight. He could picture her in his mind, leaping into the fray with her combat shotgun and nailing anything that got in her way. When she was disarmed, she was able to hold her own pretty well in hand to hand. And after he taught her how to snipe, it became her preferred method. He could still see the look of joy on her face when she hit the center of her first long range target, how her auburn hair looked like fire with the sunrise hitting it. She wasn’t perfect at combat, but she was far from defenseless. The caravan coming to a halt right outside Goodneighbor’s gate pulled him out of the memory. Grabbing his rucksack, he gave the leader some extra caps as thanks before starting towards the door.

MacCready hadn’t wanted to leave her, he wanted to help her find Shaun. But he had to make sure that the medicine got to Duncan, and she had agreed. He didn’t trust anyone else to put it in the right person’s hands. Well, one other person, and it was the woman who wrote him that letter. He wanted to tell her how he felt after Med-Tek, but it wouldn’t have been fair to tell her and then leave. But if he knew she was going somewhere dangerous, he would have stayed. Put the vial with Daisy for safekeeping, then continued traveling the wasteland at her side. He would have told her exactly how he felt about her, just how much he loves her. Damn it, why didn’t she say anything to him? The thought of her no longer being here made him feel numb. But there was no way she was gone, he refused to believe it. She was too stubborn and strong to go down, not without one hell of a fight. Those were part of the many things he loved about her.

He needed to give her a reply, and in person was the only way he would do it. As he heard Daisy greet him when he walked through the gate, he just hoped that she was still here to hear it.

[felassanis]

Fallout 4 boys

"The big three for predicting people: caps, beliefs, and ego. Get a handle on what's driving someone and you know where you stand." - Deacon

"Look lady. If you're preaching about the Atom, or looking for a friend, you've got the wrong guy. If you need a hired gun... then maybe we can talk." - MacCready

"Hey, chin up. I know the night just got darker, but it won't last forever." - Nick Valentine

"Gettin' too damn old for this runnin' around. Don't know what's more sore, my back or my feet." - Old Longfellow

[minutemens-incorrect-files]

MacCready: I'm tired of everyone treating me like a kid!

SoleSu, watching him use his bed like a trampoline: ...

[just-another-wasteland-merc]

Em Gets Buck has me intrigued!

Hhehehehhe yes!

Dogmeat translates to Buck here

-

She typed out a few replies to messages from people, then pulled up her text history before she handed her phone to Mac. Em couldn't see his face, but he could tell he was either upset or angry at the way his breathing changed, and the arm around her tightened. She wanted to shrink away, but she hugged his bicep. He eventually handed her phone back to her and sighed.

"I'm sorry, Em," he said tightly. "You don't deserve any of that. The name calling, the threats, none of it."

She couldn't bring herself to say anything, so she just nodded to acknowledge that she heard him. She felt him shift a little, then again, but then her phone vibrated in her hand.

"I sent that link Maya sent to me. I really think you should do this, now that I've seen what he sends you." Mac's other arm rested around her as she pulled the link from the message to her browser. The mission statement caught her eye, and the pictures helped convince her.

"I didn't know civilians could adopt retired military dogs," she murmured.

"I didn't either. Maya said a friend of hers adopted one and felt safer ever since. I don't know if it was just the added security of their prior service or something, but I know a dog would protect you if I can't."

👀

[chemghoul]

I switched Hancock’s and MacCready’s outfits for fun and I’m not sure why, but @galoogamelady‘s boy Buttons seemed a little uncomfortable :v 

[dono-harm-totonystark]

oh boy, what have I done...

changed my icon is what I did! and the cover pic, both an effect of boosting my obsession with these two fuckers with lovely and delicious @atombombbagel

now go read my story ‘Abnormal’ here! (...if you want)

[rowancousland]

“You’re messin’ with the best!”

Coming at you from the Commonwealth is Robert J Macready, former Mayor of Little Lamplight and merc for hire!

I made him myself with the head of a Chekov pop from Star Trek, and the body of Leon Kennedy from Resident Evil. His coat and hat were sculpted from oven bake clay and painted accordingly.

Up next will probably be my sole survivor to go along with him. :3

[atombonniebaby]

Yay, I've been modding! 🙌🏻

So, I've posted Duncan stuff before, but it's always just been a random NPC I've spawned in and used...well no longer!

I've been playing around in FO4Edit and cross referencing other NPCs to figure out how to make this little guy!

I still need to figure out how to make Duncan spawn after 'The Long Road Ahead finishes', I did set up some stuff, but it's not working... yet...BUT it does have him spawning into Sanctuary Hills, so I'm halfway there! 😏

Dunky does use a generic npc child voice, but he's copied from one of the farm kids...and since Mac had a farm, well, it kinda works!

I'd like to try and add some idle chatter between him and Mac, dunno if I can pull that off, but I'm gonna have a crack at it!

I do have his and Mac's relationship set to father and son! You can never see that in game, but I'll know 🥺 (Like Hancock and Fahrenheit being father and daughter!)

Mac spawns in with some tweaks, some scars, a couple freckles, etc (blood type) and his usual goatee, but with some stubble and side burns and bluer eyes!

I also Made Beth into an NPC, and can have her as a companion by using "Liga of my Companions" I even edited the meshes and combined my two fave hair styles and gave her a custom do! 🙌🏻

Beth and Duncan have their own outfits now and I've made custom items for the 3 of them. I'm also gonna give the kid a fallout 3 teddy with a custom name too. Oh, and I gave him a car, because "Duncan's toy car" is a thing in Fallout Shelter Online 🙌🏻

I did Mac's inventory ages ago, and he's been 'Robert Joseph 'RJ' MacCready' in my game (RJ for short) for ages now! 🙌🏻

Might edit Sturges, name him Beau, give him some spectacles! 🙌🏻 (and maybe even get him yelling "Woo Boy!" every time Mac walks past 🤣🤣🤣🤣)

I'm still figuring things out, but I may release in the future if this works out! 🙌🏻

[radioactive-reactions]

May I ask for the Fallout 4 companions discovering that the owner of Robco is still alive?

You may! I know Bethesda doesn't really like referencing the West Coast games all that much, particularly New Vegas, but I did appreciate the tiny shout-out Mr. House got in Fallout 4...

Cait furrowed her brow- it took her a bit to recognize the name, but she got there eventually. "...RobCo? They're the ones that made those fuckin' scrap heaps we're always knee-deep in, yeah? I'd like to introduce him to a goddamn bullet just for that."

Codsworth's General Atomics programming kicked in at the mention of Mr. House, activating a hardcoded disdain for all things RobCo. "Well! That's hardly impressive, is it? You and I are still alive as well, after all, and neither of us were billionaires."

Curie, much like Codsworth, felt an initial pang of distaste, quickly circumvented by her synth brain. "Oh! And we will ask him 'ow he did this, yes? Surely, he will share? Such technology could save many lives."

Danse nodded, not seeming surprised in the slightest. "I don't doubt it, soldier. House was one of the men who led the world to ruin- in other words, the type to avoid the consequences of his actions until the end. I hope I'll get to ask him if it was worth it one day."

Deacon exhaled heavily, turning away from Sole for a moment to look out over Boston. "...Whoa. That's pretty heavy stuff. But I guess it explains why those robot override codes don't work, right? Three hundred-whatever years old, and still a pain in the ass."

Hancock chuckled to himself, not moving from the couch he was draped over. "Yeah, yeah. And Bradberton had himself frozen, and Eden was a computer the whole time, and Ronto got nuked by aliens. C'mon, you gotta stop puttin' so much stock in this conspiracy shit."

MacCready gave a low whistle, more impressed than anything else. "I mean, it makes sense, right? The guy had, like... a million caps or something. First thing I'd do with that is make sure no one else could touch me. Smart guy."

Valentine had to do a double take, clear disbelief on his face. "The Robert House? ...Well, if a lowlife like Eddie Winter could figure out how to make it through the long night, it's not much of a leap to imagine someone of House's means doing the same. Hope he was able to keep the mustache if he ended up going ghoul."

Piper immediately dug for her notepad, wagging a finger at Sole. "C'mon, Blue, you can't just drop a bombshell like that and not expect me to want more! How'd he do it? Where is he now? Oh- is he accepting interviews?"

Preston was taken aback for just a moment, but proved to be as unflappable as ever- outwardly, anyway. "Jesus... Two hundred years? How do you even... stay human through all that? Let me guess- you don't."

Strong hefted his hammer, preparing himself for battle. "WHEN SUPER MUTANTS GET OLD, GET BIG AND STRONG. ROBOT MAN VERY OLD. STRONG FIGHT BIG ROBOT MAN. STRONG BECOME BOSS OF ROBOT GANG!"

X6-88 was stoic most of the time... but news like this was enough to get a shocked stare out of him. "...Oh. Oh, you're serious. However he managed that, we would be very interested in speaking to him. Could you imagine a Director at the helm for centuries?"

[nightingaelic]

I was reading your "Fallout 4 companions meet Arcade Gannon" reacts when I had an idea. FO4 companions reaction to visiting the Mojave Wasteland with the Sole Survivor.

"She was Boston, I was Vegas

She was Crêpes Suzette, I was pie

She was lectures, I was movies, but I loved her."

- Frank Sinatra, 1981, "I Loved Her"

Cait: "I've never been much of a gambler, but where there's gambling, there's usually a good time to be had."

While Cait finds the casinos of the Strip a little too ritzy for her liking, she rather enjoys the smaller, satellite venues: The Atomic Wrangler in Freeside, the Vikki and Vance casino in Primm, even the saloons in Goodsprings and the Mojave Outpost (the latter of which being where she foolishly engages in a drinking contest with Cass and happily gets her ass kicked). Her greatest enjoyment, however, comes upon discovery of the Thorn in Westside, with its arranged bouts between wasteland critters and the opportunity to go a round yourself if you're feeling lucky. Instead of the trapped horror she felt when the Combat Zone was taken over by raiders and she was forced to fight, Cait revels in the glory she reaps when choosing to face off against a fire gecko, a night stalker or a cazador with her trusty baseball bat. By the time the visit is over, she and Red Lucy have grown close, and the Thorn's mistress is going around openly calling Cait "my hunter."

Codsworth: "Ah, Las Vegas! Why, I can recall when you considered a quick getaway to this paradise just before young master Shaun's arrival. It appears we aren't too late, after all."

Codsworth is somewhat comforted by the lack of overt nuclear devastation in New Vegas, but that feeling wears off as soon as the first set of thugs in Freeside tries to corner him and the sole survivor and take their caps. Once the would-be muggers are laid out on the ground, Codsworth abandons his rose-colored glasses and puts his quippy, dismayed personality back on. Still, he loves the Strip, particularly the Ultra-Luxe with its refined guests, decor and hygienic practices, but he quickly sours on their hoity-toity attitudes. Instead, Codsworth turns to the presence of the NCR as a sign that civilization is creeping back into the wasteland. He's also tickled pink by the Kings and the Chairmen, but not the mobster-esque Omertas: They remind him too much of the pre-war mob activity in good old Boston.

Curie: "Excusez-moi, but what is that structure there? The tallest one, with the blinking lights."

Curie is thrilled to be out in the desert, observing the local populace and documenting their survival techniques, social structures and power struggles. She's fascinated with the area's history, and drags the sole survivor along to seek out the Mojave's most (in)famous individuals to record their stories for her research into post-war civilization. This lands her in quite a few questionable situations, but her general attitude of perseverance and wide-eyed wonder about the world open a lot of doors for her. She makes a lot of friends at the Old Mormon Fort among the Followers of the Apocalypse, though most of them assume her frustration about her own "biological reactions to extreme living conditions" is just her complaining about the heat like everyone else. Arcade's pretty sure she's a robot, though he's too polite to ask about it outright.

Danse: "We're close now, to the birthplace of the Brotherhood of Steel. This is an honor I never thought I'd experience."

Though it's boiling hot inside his power armor under the desert sun, Paladin Danse is overjoyed that he's accompanying the sole survivor on this journey into the cradle of the ideology that he's devoted to. He's heard about the Mojave from Brotherhood of Steel veterans, those who traveled with Elder Lyons when they initially came to the Capital Wasteland and those who accompanied Elder Maxson when he was just a Squire, and he keeps spouting off random trivia about the area. Any run-ins with disillusioned Scribe Veronica might leave him a bit put out, but it's overall a fun trip for him through a part of the continent that's a little less smashed to rubble than the rest of the world. He especially enjoys visiting the NCR and Brotherhood military outposts, if only to offer critiques and suggestions to any soldiers that give him the time of day.

Deacon: "Sheesh, visiting the Mojave almost makes you wish for a nuclear winter, am I right?"

Deacon has been here before. Well, he doesn't actually say he's been here before, but he keeps dropping hints to the sole survivor that he's somehow on a return trip. He knows the legends of the Sierra Madre and the Blue Star treasures offhand, he has a whole conversation with the Securitrons guarding the Strip about what happened to Robert House, he even knows how to competently play Caravan. Every time the sole survivor asks him about how he knows so much, though, Deacon just grins and keeps chugging his Sunset Sarsaparilla. Obviously no one recognizes him by face, but he does have a setting-appropriate wardrobe along that includes NCR bandoleer armor, a coat-tailed tuxedo, top hat and White Glove Society mask, and a black leather jacket to go with his pompadour wig.

Dogmeat: [curiously sniffs everything]

Dogmeat can't figure out why this place is so dang dry, but he's on his best behavior for the sole survivor as they make their way over the dusty roads of the Mojave. He politely greets each other traveler on the roads, who keep asking his companion where they got "a non-cyber cyberdog." For the most part though, the trip is pretty in line with everywhere Dogmeat goes: Big rodents, big bugs, tired people and plenty of ruins to explore. Dogmeat's one outstanding adventure comes in the form of an attempted kidnapping by some of the Kings, who think their leader needs a new dog after Rex hit the road with some fool. The King doesn't take kindly to this, and graciously has the dog returned to his friend.

Hancock: "Oh, man, how does anyone live out here? I'm drying out, I feel like a radroach husk."

Hancock is having the time of his life in the Mojave, apart from constantly complaining about how he prefers the Commonwealth's weather. He's chummy with everyone, but especially with the ghouls he encounters. He buys Raul a bunch of drinks and asks him about his past, he suggests future career paths and hobbies for Calamity, and he is absolutely enchanted with Beatrix the dominatrix. He's also rowdy enough to attract the ire of nearly every casino in New Vegas: The White Glove Society seethes when the sole survivor points out that his Revolutionary War outfit technically meets the dress code, the Omertas howl when he starts encouraging the strippers and sex workers to band together and take over the casino, and the Vault 21 dwellers keep asking if he's liable to turn feral. The Chairmen, however, treat him as something of a novelty and gift him with a seersucker suit to go with his jaunty personality.

MacCready: "You know, I played cards with a guy from out here once. He tried to teach me a game called... what was it, Candyman? Kilogram?"

MacCready has the barest smattering of knowledge about the Mojave Wasteland, and he keeps injecting it into conversations no matter how inaccurate it is. He's fascinated with the sole survivor's recollections of what Vegas was like before the Great War, and his expectations are sky-high by the time they arrive on the city's outskirts. Those expectations are absolutely met once inside the Strip, even if the sole survivor's are let down. MacCready is just tickled by the existence of a city that is solely dedicated to parting you from your caps, and he settles into each new business for the express purpose of people-watching. He only tries gambling once, and immediately quits after he loses all of his pocket change.

Valentine: "Good old Las Vegas. Somehow, I'm not surprised it's still got a reputation as 'Sin City,' even this long after the bombs."

The Nick Valentine of old never visited Las Vegas, but he certainly knew about it well enough for the Nick Valentine of today to draw on those impressions. He's extra-wary about the city as a result, an attitude not helped by the many people staring at him because of his detective getup, jagged edges and golden eyes. Some people are polite enough to walk up and ask what he is: Others offer to buy him off the sole survivor directly, much to Nick's chagrin. When James Garret offers him a thousand caps for "one night of his services," Nick puts his foot down and starts glaring at everyone who so much as walks up to him and the sole survivor during their trip. The exceptions to this rule are Veronica, who is extremely polite and non-invasive with her questioning; Arcade, who is too polite to even mention Nick's synthetic state; and Raul, who finds the whole thing hilarious but admits that his ghoul status has landed him in some similar situations.

Piper: "I've heard plenty of stories about this place, and if even a quarter of them are true, I ought to get a good travel piece out of just about anyone we pass on the street."

Piper's on a mission to track down the history of New Vegas, which, like Curie, sends her on a path toward its biggest political figures. Aside from them, she's particularly interested in the services of the Mojave, like the Gun Runners, the Crimson Caravan Company, and especially the Mojave Express. Piper gets along swell with just about everyone, and she basks in the widespread acceptance that she lacks back home due to her chosen profession. She desperately tries to get Johnson Nash to ship a case of Sunset Sarsaparilla cross-continent for her, but he gently turns her down and tells her that the only courier he knows crazy enough to undertake a trip to the Commonwealth is too busy nowadays.

Preston: "They're not too friendly to outsiders here, or so I'm told, but there are always good folks to be found if you know where to look."

Preston, true to form, offers help to every little settlement he and the sole survivor come through on their journey, which delays their path to Vegas quite a bit. He makes a beeline for the Old Mormon Fort as soon as he hears the Followers of the Apocalypse have a base there, though, and spends most of his visit picking the brain of its leaders about the best ways to aid those in need in the wasteland. He and Arcade get into some spirited debates about the pros and cons of having a civil service force focused on military matters versus civilian matters, and the Minutemen leader leaves the Mojave with a lot of new ideas to carry home to the Commonwealth.

Strong: "Strong not looking for 'good time,' puny human. Strong looking for thing that make super mutants stronger."

Strong hates New Vegas, but that's nothing unexpected. The sole survivor tries to limit their time in the city and take him around the desert to locales where super mutants are more likely to be found, which brings them to Jacobstown. Surprise surprise, Strong hates Jacobstown - at first. Little by little, through talking with Lily, the other nightkin, and Marcus, Strong starts to realize that the super mutants of the town are doing exactly what he values and sharing their resources among each other for the good of the community, just minus the usual violence associated with super mutants. He struggles with this alternative way of life for a bit, but eventually comes to accept that to be a super mutant, you don't have to constantly attack those around you to show off your strength.

X6-88: "Be careful. The Institute's records about this area indicate high levels of theft, murder, and unsavory characters. It would be best to keep our guard up."

Like Nick, X6-88 greets everyone in the Mojave with open suspicion, and can hardly be convinced to leave the sole survivor's side for their entire journey. His dedication to this task leads those around him to joke about him being "a human Securitron," which the sole survivor finds amusing: X6-88 does not. Still, the ability to hire and maintain a professional-looking bodyguard while visiting New Vegas doesn't go unnoticed, and most people assume that means the sole survivor has a lot of money to spend or be separated from by force. Criminals are more likely to be ruthless, hell-bent on stealing the loads of caps the sole survivor surely has tucked away. Business owners, on the other hand, are more polite to the pair on their travels, giving them better service and goods that ingratiate X6-88 a bit more to the common people aboveground.

BONUS!

Ada: "Jackson brought us out here once, when Zoe decided she wanted to try acquiring a Securitron. The leader of the Strip turned us down."

While Deacon is playing coy about his experience in the Mojave, Ada is completely open about hers. She hasn't been to the Strip, the dam, or any of the Mojave's "fun" destinations, but she remembers the Crimson Caravan Company headquarters, the 188 trading post, and many of the small towns along the way. Her fondest memories are of scavenging around the ruins of the REPCONN test site, the Aerotech Office Park and HELIOS One. She also recalls that her caravan friends came to visit primarily to find a Securitron to take apart and repurpose, but won't say exactly what happened when they tried to do so, other than warn the sole survivor "not to invite the wrath of the House."

Gage: "Now this is a town that knows how to run a successful racket. We need to find out who's in charge, see if they can give us some tips."

Porter Gage walks right up the steps of the Lucky 38 as soon as he finds out that someone inside is running the Strip, and demands that the Securitrons let him in to "talk to the boss." The robots aren't impressed, of course, and toss him out straightaway. Gage, not one to be discouraged easily, tries to find information among the nearby raider gangs instead: Fiends, Vipers, Jackals or Great Khans, he's not too picky. The current state of the raiders in the Mojave quickly informs him that they're failing one by one against the power of New Vegas, and he renews his efforts to find the recipient of the endless streams of caps. Thwarted at every turn, he and the sole survivor retire to Gomorrah, where they bemoan their bad luck while the courier sits a few seats down from them, listening in and smirking.

Longfellow: "Just point me to the nearest saloon. If I can't cool down, I'll try to forget I'm hot."

Longfellow parks himself at the nearest watering hole and does his best to avoid the scorching Mojave heat. The Maine-born grandpa is pretty miserable during the daytime hours unless he's sitting in front of a fan with a cold beer, swapping stories about Far Harbor critters with the bar regulars. At night he's a bit more open to adventuring with the sole survivor, when the desert cools down and he can see the sights by moonlight. Although he's not a fan of the hustle and bustle of the Strip, most of the large casinos there have air conditioning thanks to the Lucky 38, so he claims a table in the back and glares at anyone who disturbs him and his drink. He gets along with most of the New Vegas crowd though, if they agree to pick up the tab.

Maxson: "We came this way, when the Elders sent me to the East Coast. I wonder if the chapter here is still persevering."

Elder Maxson is surprisingly reluctant to visit the two things that the sole survivor would've thought he'd be interested to see in the Mojave: The Strip, or the Hidden Valley bunker. If pressed, he'll admit that he's not the type to cut loose and gamble, drink or participate in general debauchery as a result of his upbringing and position of authority, but neither is he keen to drop in on the dying Western chapters of his order and become stifled by protocol and ass-kissing. He prefers to wander the desert itself, seeking solitude among the cacti and under the stars. Given the chance, he'd probably nip off to Quarry Junction and anonymously solve the NCR's deathclaw problem, if it hasn't already been taken care of. He refuses to wear his uniform for the entire trip.

Desdemona: "The Mojave probably wouldn't know what to make of our mission, which is how you know it's a good place to hide. I wonder if any of our rescued synths made it out this far."

This is by far the most relaxed the sole survivor has ever seen Desdemona, and why wouldn't it be? She's so far removed from her usual sphere that she drops her usual, tight-knit demeanor and embraces loosening up. She's still not talking openly about the Railroad's operations, but she is more likely to answer questions both personal and professional. Like Deacon, she knows a bit about the Mojave, but not so much that she can blend in completely. Instead, she embraces being a tourist and does all the usual things that go with it: Visiting the Strip, the Sunset Sarsaparilla headquarters, the Thorn, and especially Hoover Dam. When she's looking out over Lake Mead, with the sun getting caught in her hair as it sets on her left, she almost looks happy.