#ganger in the white suit

[vibe-stash]

Tampopo (1985) dir. Juzo Itami

[sempsimps]

doppelgänger Francis x reader

sooo this is totally sfw within the age rating of the actual game, obviously. also might be inspired by the yagami yato of this man, maybe, slight chance, it definitely gave me some fuel to finish at least, i got over this brain rot quickly and well this took more time than i would of liked so yeah. sorry if my writing sucks :)

tags

mentioned death

mentioned cannibalism

two sides of the same one sided love (kinda)

blood (yep shock horror)

hoon man getting the love he needs <3

a bit of inexperienced writing (oh lord the horror)

sexual tension i guess (but not really)

Heather's the musical reference

British language so scary

it was late at night and door duty is slow like usual, the thing about the job was that 12 hour shifts suck, but in this time where the fear of being replaced by man eating monsters having a roof over my head and a job was quite reassuring, and well despite the company not really caring I'm glad that i didn't have to do more work then i could be awake for also my co-worker Emily she is amazing and could make a banging cup of tea, and well she likes the fact there's not nearly that many doubles at day, less work obviously. the night is tougher, way more doppelgängers at this time some were very convincing and did make me want to scream on the inside becuse of the anxiety it caused..... but i did like a challenge. also, i knew that most of the apartmenties were inside as Emily ticks them off the list and added the names who had a reasonable excuse for not being on there, and hey, i haven't died. yet despite my complaints there was a golden reason why i liked this job, and that was the resident tired eyes Francis, but he never really talked that much and it kinda made him ideal mimic bait, so i cant get attached i mean i really shouldn't as they really did try him the most for some reason.

i yawn as i relaxed into my office chair stretching my arms with a stratifying click 'mhhh almost over its 10 45 so 1 more hour and franci-' caught in my thoughts so much but the white uniform snapped my attention 'speak of the devil-! wait...' and as quickly as it came it left, as i seen the deep sunken abyss of "eyes" and a smile 'ah, i see its hoon' he really did try to get in, acting normally handing the papers over with an almost correct ID and entry form but just ya know slightly off on the looks and all he says is hoon is kind of revealing. i smiled and waved in greeting.

"Ah, hello there, nice try hoon, but i can see you. Good try though, almost nailed that ID too."

"hoon hoooon!"

"ill take that a good response"

i politely gave back the ID and smiled, throwing the entry form in the bin with the rest, so it isn't as easy to get in. Also, some of them are funny anyway. back to it i found this particular one almost as enduring as the original i was found of him so to speak, but if he got too good then off he goes and that might be a toxic trait but ill entertain him for now.

"Come on man, you know the drill, i caught you. You walk away. Have a good night though."

"hoon..."

he held his head down in disappointment and trudged away, when i was sure he left i called the D.D.D,the emergency shutters come down and footsteps can be heard by the men, i knew hoon wasn't there but to keep up the appearance to not get me fired, i had to make it seem that he keeps escaping, and not me letting him do so nooooo. the shutters come up, and the hazmat suit explains the situation in that boring tone like always.

"The clean up is complete, but the company will search for that double ganger that got away......"

yep, the same stuff zoning all that out. 'blah blah blah Jesus Christ, so much talking, just leave, please.' i kept smiling with zoned out thoughts as they spoke.

"You can continue your job"

"mh hm thanks"

the clean-up crew left slowly, god so slowly, like today, so slow. i looked over to the clock 'uuuuhhh 11 15 a half an hour till Francis gets here from delivering milk. poor soul to be fair he was half a workaholic' picking at my nails as a distraction from the boring day i seen another white milk man uniform i smile as i seen Francis, immediately going to work as he passed his paper through. but if i looked at the clock, only a few minutes passed.

"hi there"

i politely greeted, giving a small wave like i do for him 'wait it might not be him.' My face turned serious quickly.

"hm hello..."

'Huh, is he tired, or is that voice lower?' Suspicious, but i checked over the entry form, and that looked all good. now the ID 'logo yep date uh huh spelling' with the file i looked back and forth 'okay looking good finally number lets see 2 3 5 5 6' i look at the ID '2 4 5 5 6. wait 4?' Looking back over the file 'that's wrong damn doppelgänger. welp gotta kill this one he's too real.' i passed back the papers roughly, my face turning sour.

"welp, here ya go Francis, any last words?"

i didn't let him finish becuse as soon as i passed the paper through roughly i reached over with my other hand and pressed the emergency button, and speed dialling the D.D.D to get this near replica out of here, the shutter that came down was rattling from the force of the doppelgänger hitting it trying to escape, which was normal. and then silence as the shutter comes up, the now comforting yellow suit began to talk.

"The clean-up is complete. You can continue your-"

The hazmat suit slammed into the glass making a small crack, a gradient green hand with black claws dug into the back of the head, blood seeping out and staining the yellow suit my eyes followed the arm to the doppelganger of Francis i had just delt with 'oh shit this is a fucking problem' the yellow hazmat fell to the ground the hand returning to "normal" and that face comes into view. blood dripping of the perfect features, his voice lower than it should be its unnerving 'and hot- nope nope stop there wrong.' opening the desk draw digging in it for a neatly written number to only be called if the D.D.D fails. 'Where's that post-it note' a loud thud broke my thoughts, and I cautiously looked up to the double of Francis. his hand against the glass smearing some blood on the clean surface some spilling into the small crack made a few seconds earlier.

"Oh darling, how come you didn't let me in? My appearance is flawless. Entry form has nothing wrong with it, I know I'm on the list today."

He looked confused 'cute wait no evil' since I passed the papers through he picked up the slightly crumpled ID and gave an amused smirk flipping it around and pressing it to the glass so I could see it.

"Ah, I see you did read that silly ID number. You're not like the others, you're smart, and that makes me want to devour you even more."

My hand starts to tremble as I kept looking for that stupid note. The doppelganger tuts lightly with a small chuckle.

"Come on~ your phone friends can't help you. and you wouldn't want to create more of a mess~ look honey! all those delicious bodies already here"

He licked his lips cleaning them from the blood giving a satisfied hum 'oh shit that's hot- nope nope not the time' i couldn't bear to look past him at the amount of people dead, opting to keep looking for the number i knew was in this stupid desk 'come on, come on where is this fucking thing' my hand touches the gun at the back of the draw 'I shouldn't have to use this'

"OPEN THE DOOR, please open the door. Can we not fight anymore, please come on, open the door? You're scared i see that, I can set you free come on let me inside open the door open opEN OPEN!"

Teeth beared now sharp and tinted yellow eyes the same shade. His hand slammed down on the glass with an open palm he realised it wasn't working, quickly far too quickly, and he used his fist rattling the pane in its hold the crack getting bigger every thud my movements speed up 'shit shit shit shit shi- ah! there I got it.' I gripped the paper roughly and slammed the emergency button and dialled the never before used number

"DARLING YOULL NEVER KILL ME IVE BEEN WATCHING YOU FOR WEEKS ILL COME BACK"

"Hello you have contacted the-"

"YES I KNOW SEND HELP D.D.D AGENTS DOWN"

"Don't worry .... we have dispatched people to your area" BEEP

The slamming of fists and that sickening sound of flesh tearing. its the noise doppelgangers make when they lose their disguise, it made me nauseous my head dizzying from it I heard the glass smash but the metal kept me safe it was barely dented before I heard the screams of the beast and gun shots my breathing uneven my legs to my chest in the chair arms wrapped around my body in attempt to comfort myself it all went silent my heart drops in my chest but as the shutter came back up a more human looking hazmat suit greeted me rather than the round ones another one putting a new pane of glass replacing the broken one.

"Thank you for contacting us. we will inform the D.D.D of the deceased agents and give you good reference. Unfortunately, the doppelganger got away"

"Wait, what!?"

They left quickly, some carrying black bags, not saying a word 'he got away. How?' I slowly came out of my shell I had built temporarily, taking in some deep breaths. unwrapping my arms and lowering my legs back into my chair. 'I'll have a breakdown when I'm off the clock.... oh speaking of how long till Francis is here 11 55 he's late.... of course just making my day wors- never mind night is better' there he was passing an ID and entry form i already had his folder out and checked it over intensely giving a little sigh.

"mh, hello doorman you seem worked up tonight"

"haha yeah just some difficult doppelgängers, ya know"

"ha yeah uh.... I've been meaning to ask, would you like to get food sometime"

i opened the door for him and smiled wearily giving the correct paper back to the real Francis.

"yeah that would be nice have a goodnight Francis"

okay finally over Jesus Christ this took way longer than i wanted it to take becuse i have got another 3 fics stacked and schoolwork so I'm glad its over but i still don't know how to end this shit sorry if my writing sucks :]

extra note: brownie points if people spotted the heathers reference

[another-corpo-rat]

Prompts: Born to Die Adam Smasher/OC Warnings for mentioned injuries and violence Summary: Smasher’s AV is hit by Animals jacked up on Juice. Victoria gets injured, he doesn’t handle it well.

.

Violence in Night City rarely had a glimpse of reason to its existence; families gunned down because their car just happened to be between a gang and their target, lives lost or ruined because someone somewhere had a chip on their shoulder and were determined to make the rest of the city pay in blood. Sometimes there was a stupid amount of eddies up for grabs, others they were bored and had access to big fucking guns. Senseless and boringly familiar – Night City’s grime was a thin layer compared to the shit Adam had been knee-deep in when he was a fleshy still running the streets of New York.

Screams and wails, a small voice begging for their dead momma to wake up. Shouting over the gunfire, orders to push up. Secure the AV. His AV.

It all seemed distant, further than it actually was.

In the midst of it, he’s still. Standing sentinel over his netrunner’s prone body, watching the stain on her ridiculously expensive suit-jacket grow, her blood crawling through fine threads. The white one, because of course she wore white today. Anything to spite him.

He had nudged her, heard the too-sharp breath and immediately pulled away. Not for the first time did he curse her lack of metal; titanium ribs wouldn’t have shattered so easily, and syn-lungs were increasingly difficult to puncture. He had heard the crunch of bone when gravity yanked the AV down by the nose, tossing him right on top of her. She was lucky he had braced otherwise he would’ve crushed her completely.

It wasn’t the first time she had made him pause recently. He couldn’t figure out why. Why the roll of her shoulders commanded his eye, why that stupid accent of hers drew his ear and held his attention better than any barked order, threat, or insult throughout his life ever had. Why he felt warm when she smiled at him, mind buzzing in a way it hadn’t for a while. Not since Michiko. Her smiles had been stupid things too.

Maybe he knew something would happen. That some bullshit would tear her from his hold.

Another AV rumbles above him, a siren blaring. Trauma Team. Fucking finally.

“Took your sweet fucking time.” He growls as they surround her, guns pointed at him. The one closest trembles, the shaking to their fingers slight but there. He ignores them, glaring straight at the EMT that rips open her shirt to get at her injuries. He could hear Victoria’s complaint, almost voices it for her: ‘It has buttons for a reason you bloody gonks.’

A glint pulls his attention to her face. Her optics were open but dim in their golden glow, hazy focus on him.

“A-Adam.” Her voice is weak, wet with blood. Quiet enough that even the EMT hovering over her doesn’t hear it. He does. He’s heard her say his name before – plenty of times. When she was particularly annoyed she’d follow it up with an insult that was too pretty in her accent for him to take her seriously.

Maybe his brain got rattled in the crash. Scrambled enough for her to sound so precious now. For his own words sound wrong in his head.

“TT-070 to Control. Patient NC721156 secured—”

Her vitals were steadying. She fights to keep her eyes open, to keep them on him as the team lifts her for extraction. It’s a battle she loses.

A bottle shatters where she was moments ago. A ganger yells ‘fucking Trauma!’ behind him. Fucking pricks.

He turns from her pool of blood, from his crashed AV.

He’d get a new one. A new AV. Not a netrunner – because Victoria will be fine. She’ll survive or he’ll tear into the gates of Hell itself and drag her back kicking and screaming. He’d get her a new suit, as many as she could possibly want.

“They’re tryna take off!” Trauma Team’s AV rumbles heavily, its engines lifting the armoured mass steadily and quickly. Its turrets focus on those coming in from the front. Oblivious to the RPG-toting dickhead re-loading, readying for the order from an even bigger dickhead further back. “Keep ‘em down!”

 Julio had been with the Animals for a while now – since Sasquatch herself picked him out of the gutter by the scruff of his neck and told him to stop being a leech on his mother’s already thin purse. He wasn’t the strongest, and god knew he wasn’t the smartest either. But he had good aim, could keep himself steady where his mates were a bit shaky from the juice.  It’s why Bull let him be the one to fire on the Arasaka AV. But steady hands and a keen eye didn’t mean jackshit when the RPG was torn from his grip, his wrists almost pulled with it.

The point of the grenade was shoved into the meat of his stomach, ripping through skin and muscle from force alone.

All he can hear is his pulse in his ears. Deafened to his own scream as a titan of dark chrome and piercing optics twists the launcher. Its finger hovers over the trigger.

“Count yourself lucky, boy.” The heavy voice shakes his bones. Or maybe that’s just him. Trembling like a coward. “The rest of you won’t die half as quick if she does.”

He pops. An explosion of viscera and shards.

The metal of his implants are little more than shrapnel, lodging deep into the skin of his fellow Animals. It merely glances off of Adam’s chrome as he tosses the RPG aside, flexing his fingers as the rest of the pack finally realise what just happened. The hum in his circuitry is familiar this time, it builds in his arm, cannon ready before the panels fully slide back.

Animals they called themselves. At least they knew they were meant for the slaughter.

[prvtocol]

@badtrigger ( Santiago to Vez ) : ❝ the world isn’t always black and white. there are shades of grey. ❞ | wednesday starters ( selectively accepting )

Noise. No matter the square footage and reinforced fire walls dividing sections of Brianne’s grandiose North Oak estate, the rowdiness of the small crowd that moved their night’s revelries here makes it such that she’s not going to block it out completely. Apparently this happens on occasion. Vaas invites over whoever’s at the gang’s clubhouse to use the place’s resort-style amenities, raid the cellar and wet bars, and leave the grounds trashed by morning. It’s a strange sight. Motorcycles lined up from the front door to the front gate. Dirty combat boots on fifty-thousand eddie rugs. No one in a proper bathing suit.

Introduction is given to another who seems keen to be on the outskirts of it all. A good place to observe so she ends up there too. She’s resolved to call herself Bri’s sister rather than look like another useless Arasaka security guard told not to engage. The man goes by Santiago. She recalls the name. The gang’s second in command. The one Bri says is level-headed. Calm. Presumable attributes stated in contrast to the leader. An obvious enforcer by the looks of the bulk and the chrome. Armed well enough too. All of them are. Before departing her guest room, Vez tucked her pistol in the back of her trousers. Just something about the city street literally being inside one’s home you shouldn’t trust. Already noted is her sister’s nowhere to be found, nor is the gang’s president. Not that she’s worried, yet.

Who knows how the conversation got philosophical. Maybe it’s a bid for understanding. Brianne’s voice to all this exploitation is a quiet one; she goes with the flow. Vez is more willing to call bullshit where she sees it. Chrome fingers flick the ash from the end of her French cig whilst giving the big fellow a once over; thought given to the murky divide he sees.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” A non-definitive answer phrased in her habitually coarse voice, an unplaceable accent with it. Not French. Not British. Something in between. “It’s still haves and have nots. Rich and poor. Corpos and gangers.” The contrast of the latter stomping through a space not built for them. “When those two collide, the aftermath hardly looks grey.” More like red, blood red. “My sister might agree with you though. She’s the type who can see light where there is dark. I still tell her she’s blind. Especially with this,” hand gestures to the revelry at the poolside, “This isn’t grey, man.” Destroying her property, taking her money, abusing her (though the latter she says is not the case). “Extortion is as black and white as it gets. A bloody business. And one that began at knife point, I hear.” From Brianne’s retelling of the how this scheme started in the back of her cab, her driver and guard disposed. “It never ends any better.”

[elvislover69]

All fallout new Vegas factions ranked by how easy it would be able to beat them (not dlc included I'm lazy)

*First some rules I have the power of a whole army with me with training... I'm not just a single guy that way they would beat my ass fast, this is solely my opinion also based on how much i hate some factions, also I'm following the faction Wikipedia page so i may just say some towns, thanks

Main factions

The legion:

it would be a fight that will take long and i might be defeated but eliminating Caesar will make my fight easier, the whole legion would no longer have a leader and they will end up falling like my sand castle over the time and me coming with my army would be like the ocean also coming to destroy my castle....... 9/10 nice fight

New California republic AKA NCR:

Horrible fight, lots of deaths, it would be a war that would last lots of time but with enough planning my army would take over the dam and from that they would ending debilitated, i win and keep them as pets/j 10/10 really fun

Robert house:

Easy clap, securitrons would he a horrible pain in the ass but not indestructible, i would have an opportunity by destroying the massive securitron army then it would be the easiest fight in my entire life, call Robert a rice krispie because he will snap, crackle and pop, 6/10 only because securitrons

Yes man/independent new Vegas:

The new super powerful securitrons would beat my mans ass but at one point my army would destroy the securitron army which is probably really small since you need to destroy house's army, lots of my army would be wiped out and it would be a sad thing but i would at last win, 9/10 the boss would be really weak since just one human

Minor factions

The kings:

They have no military training it would be like a teen bullying a bunch of kids 0/10

Van graffs:

Really small faction, some of my men would get turned into goo but it would be worth it, easy clap 2/10 because hehehe men goo

Followers of the apocalypse:

Not to be mean but i don't think any of my men would die 0/10

Great Khans:

Cool fight but them being as small as they're would give me a great boost 1/10

Enclave:

Easiest clap ever -10/10

Boomers:

I would try my best to beat them but their military equipment would beat mine, my men would get blown up, blood and pieces of people everywhere but once I reach the gate is the end for them, they defeated most of my army but not all of it. 10/10

Brotherhood of steel:

They already defeated themselves, they would put up a fight but my men have more experience in a non bunker setting, their weapons and armor would give me a disadvantage in a war setting but at the end they wouldn't be able to keep up with my gigantic army, i win 6/10 expected more

The chairmen:

They're a bunch of men in suits what are they going to do seduce me? Cuz it would work 2/10 but because i would get seduced easily

Omertas:

They would put up a good fight but against my army they're nothing, i would make fun of them for being Italian constantly talking to them in a stupid fake Italian accent 2/10

White glove society:

Easy. Unless they go and start bitting me then i would die 0/10

Westside militia:

Who? 0/10

Powder gangers:

Men would get blown up but i would win fairly easily 1/10

State of utobitha:

It would be kinda difficult since I'm fighting a bunch of super mutants but i see myself winning, my men would accidentally kill Raúl thinking he's an enemy and i would cry on top of his corpse like a little baby 4/10

Primm:

Primm. 0/10

Jacobstown:

Lots and lots of supermutants that would probably kick my ass and eat my body for breakfast but since i have a bigger army than they do i would be able to survive 6/10 unfair since I'm not super nor mutant

Bright brotherhood:

I see those guys dead everywhere 0/10

Novac:

What you gonna do against my army? Sell my wife to the legion? 0/10

Goodsprings:

Easy pete would kill some people 1/10

Greasers:

I would put them in a blender and turn them into grease 0/10

Scorpions:

Get out of the chems and then talk to me 0/10

Vipers:

Easy 0/10

Fiends:

They can be a pain in the ass but i don't like the smell of my own blood, so 2/10 they have some lasers and cool armor i gotta give them points

Jackals:

Where is the hard part of beating all this people down c'mon give me a challenge fallout new Vegas 0/10

Gun runners:

Nice guns, but not enough power 1/10

Mojave express:

C'mon don't mess with the mailmen 0/10

--------------------------

The end result of all this battle would be only the chairmen surviving since i feel in love with every single man that would pop a tit in front of me, then while i sleep after having gay sex one of them would kill me and take my place, the chairmen won. That's all minor factions are too easy to beat gg.

[thetakkyacampaign]

Meet Your Match Part 1

Marshal Amark Hemming “The Wolf of Takkya “

Skin Color: Olive, and well-wrinkled around the face; his arms scratched and scarred, covered from shoulder to fingertips in tattoos that tell the stories of his greatest battles.

Hair: Greying Brown, and so much of it that you would not be faulted for mistaking him for a Beastman

Height: 6′3 (1.9m)

Weight: 190lbs (86kg)

Age: 50

Armor: Much of it is the same as the rest of the Takkyan Blackpelts, with few exceptions. His armor is more gold and red as opposed to it’s traditional green hues, and his shield has a built-in conversion field as opposed to traditional refractor fields. The most noticeable difference, however, is that as opposed to traditional members of the Takkyan Blackpelts, rather than the synthetic Takkyan Wolf pelt that gives the regiment their name, The Wolf sports a genuine pelt, gifted to him personally by Lord General Martius Laroe when he was promoted to Major.

Weapons: Frag and Krak Grenades, A Plasma Pistol, and a Power Spear.

“When I was a young boy, my father gave me his rifle, and told me to clear out a bunch of gangers that had taken residence in my town; and I did it. I didn’t question him. I didn’t ask why, or how. I marched to that building, and without hesitation, I fought. For fourteen long, bloody hours, I fought, clearing it room by room and killing every single ganger there. And by the end of it, I returned home, spent rifle in one hand, the head of the boss in the other. I know now he meant for my death, but then, at the time? It taught me the power of faith, that with nothing to your name but a rifle and your belief, that you can do anything.”

====

Aun’El Yo’vai Or’ra

Skin Color: Traditional Blue

Hair: Long red hair, pulled back and braided.

Height: 5′5 (1.65m)

Weight: 130lbs (58.9kg)

Age: 38

Armor: Your traditional XV22 Stealth Battlesuit, though it has been outfitted to sport a more powerful powerplant, and featuring a much more resilient shield system. Or’ra rarely keeps the same combination of Drones, instead choosing to swap between multiple different combinations, though he always maintains at least one Heavy Gun Drone by his side.

Weapons: Haywire Grenades, a Burst Cannon, and a Flamer

“Us Ethereals often have our own arguments and pettiness. Most think they are settled with such fancy displays as our honor duels; and publicly, they would be correct. However, there are always many, many unfortunate accidents, as well as disinformation leading to more accidents. There is, truly is, a reason I wear this suit for as many waking moments as possible. I have defeated many in these frivolous duels, and have turned more than a few heads the wrong way; and as such it is many of these that claim I should have been born of the Fire Caste. I’ve always ignored them, but at this point, in this campaign, perhaps they do have a point.”

====

Archon Grizamass

Skin Color: A sickly teal-almost white skin.

Hair: Long blue hair, pulled back and braided, with many concealed knives within it.

Height: 7′3 (2.2m)

Weight: 240lbs (108.8kg)

Age: 3,716

Armor: A standard Raidmaster variant of Kabalite Armor, personally modified to include a particularly virulent Holo-field, allowing him to not only distort his shape, but fully displace his appearance; and to his foes, appearing as if he was perhaps five meters away from where he actually is. Furthermore, should any foe manage to actually strike a lucky blow, the effects are mostly negated as his various auto-injectors fill his body with all manners of drugs, numbing the pain and accelerating the healing.

Weapons: Plasma Grenades, a Blast Pistol, and a Huskblade

“Imperials, Orks, those fools who worship Khaos, really, it doesn’t matter to me who I take. See, as my dear mother always said, ‘Son,’ she’d say, ‘Son, the best slaves are those with nothing to lose!’ Really, I never knew what she meant by that, but as I grew and learned my way about Commorragh and the intricacies within, I figured it out. See, no one really has nothing to lose, it’s little more than a lie they tell themselves, because once you get them to that point, then once you dig that knife in deep enough, you find what it is they still can lose; and there, and then... that's when the real fun begins.”

[cyberpsycho-for-eurodyne]

Tag Game: Character Bios

Tagged by @kerrybearodyne​

Thank you for inviting me to join this tag game~~~

General:

Name: Valence Easton

Nicknames: Val, V

Gender: Male

Age: 34

Birthdate:  June 10, 2043

Place of Birth/Hometown: Charter Hill, Night City.

Sexual Preference: Homosexual

Occupation: Life long ganger and lovin’ it (▀̿Ĺ̯▀̿ ̿)

Appearance:

Eye colour: Grey

Hire colour: Grey

Height: 187cm/6' 1"

Scars: left eyebrow, right upper lip, left chin, neck just above left collar bone, wrist/ forearm (self harm scars.)

Favorite:

Colour: Blue

Hair colour: White or Brown

Song: *secret lover of 80s music don’t tell anyone (►__◄)

Food: 'Ganic Wagyu Beef

Drink: Whiskey 

Have they?

Passed university: Didn’t go, too busy raising younger siblings.

Had sex: Yes

Had sex in public: Yes

Gotten pregnant: No

Kissed a boy: Yes

Kissed a girl: No

Gotten tattoos: Everywhere that can be covered by a suit will have tats

Gotten piercings: No

Been in love: Yes

Stayed up for more than 24 hours: Yes, when worrying about his family or bf

Are they?:

A virgin: No (¬‿¬)

A cuddler: yes!

A kisser: Absolutely

Scared easily: No

Jealous easily: no

Dominant/Submissive: Dominant

In love: For sure!

Single: No

Random Questions? (TW Self Harm/Suicide Mention):

Have they harmed themselves: Yes

Thought of suicide: Yes, after his S/O was kidnapped (thought he was murdered.)

Attempted suicide: Yes

Wanted to kill someone: All the time. Violent boi.

Have/had a job: Is crime a job? 

Have any fears: Yes, losing his siblings or his s/o

Family?

Sibling(s): One younger brother (Vincent), and a younger half sibling (Haven). Raised them both as his children after their father died. 

Parents: Only know both mom and dad worked for Arasaka.

Children: *See siblings above

Significant other: Jinx

Pet(s): bf’s cat. 

[theironwarsmith]

A little something that has been sat on my desk for possibly a year? I don't know when I started this but here is a different squad of Chosen.

Their backstory is that there were forcibly recruited from a divided world that was annihilated by the XIV Grand Battalion, being of age. They are the sole remnants of that forgotten world, made into the brutal killing machines that are Astartes, they carry little memory of their home.

The Champion, carries more memories of their home than the others. Possessed of a strong will, certain images cloyed to the edges of his mind, a woman singing gently in a white room, a well-cared for suit of armour on display in his home, snow falling. Then screaming, fire and thunder. A man, who feels important to him, is wearing the armour that was on display. The helmed face is that of a skull. He charges an Iron Warrior, there is no fear in his voice as he issues a challenge at the giant. Within a heartbeat, the giant moves forward and the man is punched through a wall and his armour ruined, a cratered hole in his chest.

The Champion runs to the man, only a child then, who speaks his dying words to him in a language that he can now barely understand. He picks up the man's sword as the Iron Warrior approaches, like the man, he feels no fear as Iron Warrior thuds towards him, each step cracking and buckling the floorboards. A slight tilt of the giant's head and his hand reaches out, then darkness.

Also here is an Escher Ganger too. A friend of mine is picking up Necromunda soon soooooooo. Let's get some bounty hunters painted.

[thelittlesttimelord]

The Littlest Timelord: The Death of the Doctor Chapter 15

TITLE: The Littlest Timelord: The Death of the Doctor Chapter 15 PAIRING: No Pairing RATING: T CHAPTER: 15/? SUMMARY: The Doctor’s death is looming on the horizon and Elise is growing every day. What the Doctor doesn’t know is that he has 200 years to teach Elise all he knows. Amy, Rory, and River let Elise in on their secret, because River knows she will keep it. What will Elise do when he’s gone?

Loud music played through the speakers in the console.

It was some rock song that Elise had never heard by a human band she’d never heard of. Elise decided she didn’t like Rock n’ Roll.

Amy and Rory played darts while Elise was sitting on the stairs sketching Idris while the Doctor stood in front of the monitor.

“Forty six. Rubbishy, rubbishy, rubbish,” Amy told Rory.

Elise rolled her eyes. She’d never understand human games. She and the Doctor played football sometimes when the Ponds were sleeping and she wasn’t too tired.

“Hello? It's a double top,” Rory argued.

“Wrong side of the wire, mister.”

“You're on the oche, Red.”

The music abruptly cut off.

“Who wants fish and chips?” the Doctor asked.

Rory raised his hand. “I'll drop you both off. Take your time. Don't rush.”

“Er, and you?” Rory asked.

Elise had once again been forgotten. Maybe she needed to speak up more.

“Things to do. Things involving other things.”

“Well, we'll stay with you. We'll do the other things,” Amy said, joining the Doctor on the platform.

“Nope.”

“Whatever you're up to, I'd personally like to be a part of it.”

The Doctor looked at her apprehensively.

“What?”

An alarm went off and the TARDIS lurched.

Elise was thrown from stairs. The Doctor grabbed her before her face could slam into the console.

“Solar tsunami. Came directly from your sun. A tidal wave of radiation. Big, big, big.”

The Doctor pulled levers as he tried to direct the TARDIS.

“Oh Doctor, my tummy's going funny,” Rory moaned.

“Well, the gyrator disconnected. Target tracking is out. Assume the position!”

“What does that mean?!” Elise yelled.

“Do I what do,” Amy told her. Amy ran to the jump seat and put her head between her knees.

Elise copied her.

Rory knelt down on the platform and did the same.

The TARDIS landed and everything was quiet.

The Doctor jumped up. “Textbook landing.”

They made their way to the TARIDS doors and the Doctor threw them open. “Behold, a cockerel! Love a cockerel.”

They all stepped out.

“And underneath, a monastery. Thirteenth century.”

“Oh, we've gone all medieval,” Amy commented.

“I'm not sure about that,” Rory told her.

“Really? Medieval expert are you?”

“No, it's just that I can hear Dusty Springfield.”

There was indeed music coming from the monastery.

The Doctor knelt beside a hole with an exposed pipe. “These fissures are new. Solar tsunami sent out a huge wave of gamma particles. This is caused by a magnetic quake that occurs just before the wave hits.”

“Well, the monastery's standing,” Amy said.

The Doctor took a snowglobe out of his jacket and shook it. Elise failed to see how that helped anything. “Yeah, for now.”

“Doctor, look,” Rory told him.

“Yeah. It's a supply pipe.” The Doctor scanned it with his screwdriver. “Ceramic inner lining. Something corrosive. They're pumping something nasty off this island to the mainland.”

“My mum's a massive fan of Dusty Springfield,” Rory commented.

“Who isn't? Right, let's go. Satisfy our rabid curiosity.”

The Doctor and Amy took off for the steps leading to the monastery. Rory and Elise cautiously followed after them. The steps led to a courtyard.

“So where are these Dusty Springfield loving monks, then?” Amy asked as the Doctor scanned their surroundings.

“I think we're here. This is it.”

“Doctor, what are you talking about? We've never been here before.” Rory said.

“Hmm?”

“We came here by accident?” Amy reminded him.

The Doctor turned to face them. “Accident? Yes, I know. Accident.”

Rory reached out to touch one of the pipes, only to yank his hand back. “Ow!”

“Acid. They're pumping acid off this island. That's old stuff,” the Doctor reassured him, “Fresh acid, you wouldn't have a finger.”

Amy inspected Rory’s hand as the Doctor walked off.

“Intruder alert. Intruder alert.”

The Doctor walked back to them. “There are people coming. Well, almost.”

“Almost coming?” Amy asked.

“Almost people.”

Amy and the Doctor ran off.

“I think we should really be going,” Rory said.

Elise nodded, agreeing with him.

“Come on!” Amy yelled.

“I'm telling you. When something runs towards you, it is never for a nice reason.”

Amy grabbed onto his jacket, pulling him after her.

Elise ran to catch up with them.

They ran into a room full of people in harnesses.

“What are all these harnesses for?” Amy asked.

“The almost people?” Rory guessed.

“What are they, prisoners, or are they meditating, or what?”

“Well, at the moment they fall into the “or” what category,” the Doctor told them.

“Halt and remain calm.”

“Well, we've halted. How are we all doing on the calm front?”

A group of people, the same people in the harnesses, came running into the room. They were all brandishing spears of some kind.

“Don't move!” a man told them.

“Stay back, Jen. We don't know who they are,” another said.

“So let's ask them. Who the hell are you?” Jen asked.

“Well, I'm the Doctor, and this is Amy, Elise, and Rory, and it's all very nice, isn't it?”

“Hold up. You're all. What are you all? Like identical twins?” Amy asked them.

Two people in odd looking suits came down a set of stairs.

“This is an Alpha Grade industrial facility. Unless you work for the military or for Morpeth Jetson, you are in big trouble,” the woman said. She seemed to be in charge.

“Actually, you're in big trouble,” the Doctor said, pulling out his psychic paper.

The woman snatched it out of his hand.

“Meteorological Department? Since when?”

“Since you were hit by a solar wave.”

“Which we survived.”

“Just, by the look of it. And there's a bigger one on the way.”

“Which we'll also survive. Dicken, scan for bugs.”

“Backs against the wall. Now,” one of the men in the orange suits said.

The Doctor, Elise, Amy, and Rory did as they said.

“You're not a monastery, you're a factory. Twenty second century army-owned factory,” the Doctor said.

“You're army?” Amy asked.

Elise smirked as she remembered Amy in Churchill’s bunker.

“No, love. We're contractors, and you're trespassers,” the woman said.

“It's clear, boss,” Dicken told her.

“All right, weatherman, your ID checks out.” She held out the psychic paper as the Doctor came towards her. “If there's another solar storm, what are you going to do about it? Hand out sunblock?”

The Doctor took it from her and laughed. “I need to see your critical systems.”

“Which one?”

“You know which one.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The woman, named Cleaves, led them into room with a vat full of a milky white substance.

“And there you are,” the Doctor said, wonder in his voice.

“Meet the government's worst kept secret,” Cleaves said, “The Flesh. It's fully programmable matter. In fact, it's even learning to replicate itself at the cellular level.”

“Right. Brilliant. Lost,” Amy said.

“Okay. Once a reading's been taken, we can manipulate its molecular structure into anything. Replicate a living organism down to the hairs on its chinny chin chin. Even clothes. And everything's identical. Eyes, voice…”

“Mind, soul?” the Doctor added.

Elise’s eyes met his. She narrowed them, wondering what he was up to. What was he thinking? She knew by the way he was acting that they hadn’t landed there by accident. An idea hit Elise. Was this to do with Amy? She’d seen the Doctor scanning Amy for pregnancy, but the monitor couldn’t make up its mind.

“Don't be fooled, Doctor. It acts like life but it still needs to be controlled by us, from those harnesses you saw,” Cleaves told him.

“Wait, whoa. Hold it. So, you're Flesh now?” Rory asked.

“I'm lying in a harness back in that chamber. We all are, except Jennifer here. Don't be scared. This thing, just like operating a forklift truck.”

“You said it could grow. Only living things grow,” the Doctor said.

“Moss grows. It's no more than that. This acid is so dangerous we were losing a worker every week. So now we mine the acid using these doppelgangers. Or Gangers,” Cleaves explained, “If these bodies get burnt or fall in the acid…”

“Then who the hell cares, right, Jen?” Buzzer, one of the men, asked.

“Nerve endings automatically cut off like airbags being discharged. We wake up and get a new Ganger,” Jennifer said.

Rory nodded, understanding.

“It's weird, but you get used to it,” the other man, Jimmy, commented.

“Jennifer, I want you in your Ganger. Get back to the harness,” Cleaves ordered.

Jennifer left as the Doctor scanned the Flesh.

“Hang on, what's he up to? What you up to, pal?” Buzzer asked.

“Stop it.” The Doctor jerked his hand back and pocketed his screwdriver. “Strange. It was like for a moment there it was scanning me.” He placed his hand on the surface.

“Doctor…Get back, Doctor! Leave it alone,” Cleaves told him.

He finally pulled his hand back. “I understand.”

“Doctor? Are you all right?” Amy asked.

“Incredible. You have no idea. No idea. I mean, I felt it in my mind. I reached out to it, and it to me.”

“Don't fiddle with the money, Doctor,” Cleaves said, her tone patronizing.

“How can you be so blinkered? It's alive. So alive.”

It finally dawned on Elise.

“You're piling your lives, your personalities directly into it.”

There was flash from outside and the monastery shook.

“It's the solar storm. The first waves come in pairs. Pre-shock and fore-shock. It's close,” the Doctor said.

“Buzzer, we got anything from the mainland yet?” Cleaves asked.

“No, the comms are still too jammed with radiation.”

“Okay. Then we'll keep pumping acid until the mainland says stop. Now why don't you stand back and let us impress you?”

Elise did not like Cleaves one bit.

[verdigrisonamber]

Courier Six

Fallout New Vegas is my absolute favourite Fallout, because it’s fucking amazing. I only wish Obsidian had had longer to make it so they could flesh it out even further. The Legion don’t deserve to be the ‘straight up bad guys’ (especially when the NCR are so fucking hateful). And ED-E is my best friend ever. Here is some blurb about my Courier, Dolores. Name: Dolores Urquhart Nickname: Dolly, Aeris (Latin for Copper – Eye colour, hair colour being like verdigris.) Age: 28 Height: 5’7” Specials: STR 5, PER 5, END 7, CHR 8, INT 8, AGI 7, LCK 6

Eyes: Hazel Hair: Mohican, dyed teal Ethnicity: Caucasian Gender: Cis Female Body type: Athletic Sexuality: Bisexual Relationship Status: Friends with benefits/ Lovers Partner(s): FWB: Red Lucy, Jack (Great Khans) Lover: Vulpes Inculta. Family: Deceased. Mother (Jessica) & Father (Frank) were both Doctors (which is why Dolores is proficient in medicine). Dolores was 14 when they were murdered by raiders (looking for chems) that the NCR should have protected them against. No siblings or extended family.

Languages: English (first language), Spanish (asks Raul to help her become fluent) Disabilities/Illnesses/Injuries: Likely brain damage from being shot twice in the head by Benny. Multiple scars from injuries sustained whilst travelling. Scars: Forehead (left) scarring from when Benny shot her x2 and from Doc Mitchell’s surgery. Chest, head and spinal scarring from the Think Tank’s surgeries (the Auto-doc can only do it’s best to minimise these). Various limb & torso scars from buckshot & bullets, knife wounds to arms, scarring on knuckles from fist fights. Clothing: Regulator duster, Recon Armour, Stealth Suit MK II (the AI drives her mad and she is extremely grateful when Raul manages to silence it), Authority Glasses, Party Hat, Pre-War Spring Outfit, Sexy Sleepwear Fashion Style/Lifestyle: Wears Light armour to aid agility & movement, when relaxing likes to feel pretty (also likes to dress nicely for her lovers). Enjoys people’s reactions to wearing silly clothes especially if a situation is serious/tense. Weapon of Choice: Melee: Combat knife/Baseball bat. One handed guns: That Gun/A Light Shining in Darkness. Two-handed Guns: Hunting Shotgun/Sniper Rifle. Rarely uses Energy Weapons but likes Pew Pew. Doesn’t use Heavy Weaponry (she’s agile rather than strong). Skills: Proficiency with Repair, Lock-picking, Medicine, Speech. Has good endurance and athleticism (essential for Couriers). Will use Speech & charisma before resorting to violence. Weaknesses: Sarcastic, impatient, kleptomaniac Faction: Yes Man Friendly Factions: Caesar’s Legion. Due to relationship with Vulpes, she is able to trade with the Legion & visit the Fort. She saves Caesar’s life by scrounging parts for the Auto-doc (she isn’t proficient enough in medicine to perform the surgery herself). She carries out several requests by them but stops short of fully allying with them because of their treatment of women, her distrust of Lenius and her fears over the safety of Vulpes should Lenius take over the Legion from Caesar. Boomers: She realises they could be a great asset so clears out the ant’s nest and charms the kids with teddies, dinosaurs and rockets and finds herself readily accepted by the rocket-loving Boomers. Great Khans: Approves of their lifestyle & probably would have joined them if they had more power & influence. Enjoys a very casual relationship with Jack (until she meets Vulpes). Followers of the Apocalypse: Admires them greatly. Wishes she was a good enough person to join them. Attempts to aid Freeside because of them. Wishes Arcade would join with her, but he declines due to her reputation with Caesar. The Kings: Loves to visit The Kings to see Rex (H/C that The King & Rex are reunited once Rex gets a new brain), also enjoys the stage shows. Aided the Kings vs NCR because fuck the NCR. Hasn't as yet cashed in The King’s ‘favour’. Enemies: Is very careful to appear friendly to all factions, though loathes NCR. She thinks they are ineffectual, weak and will cause the collapse of New Vegas if they ‘win’. Hates bureaucracy & sees them as little more than ‘Enclave lite’. Of course blames them for her parents death. Fiends/Vipers/Jackals: Tries to keep far away from these groups as you cannot reason with them. Powder Gangers: Idiots with dynamite. Neutral Affiliations: Gomorrah: Despite herself, she finds Cachino charming, so helps him rid the casino of Big Sal & Nero. Warns Cachino that if he abuses any more women she’ll castrate him. Also aids Joana escape with Carlito. White Gloves: Stopped the cannibalism, would have burnt the whole place to the ground if she didn’t think the Strip needed the casino. Likes: Blamco Mac & Cheese, reading, repairing electronics & weapons, singing (badly) along with ED-E to the radio, dogs, Nuka-Cola, sleeping, exploring, hiking, hacking pre-war technology, swimming, fresh fruit, listening to Vulpes tell her tales from the Legion whilst they cuddle Dislikes: Cazadors, NCR, having your brain removed without being asked, stones under her bedroll, feeling cold, sleeping alone, litter/rubbish (can spend hours tidying before feeling comfortable somewhere. Both her parents were fastidious to the point of neuroticism and demanded cleanliness in the home as well as in their clinic, if Dolores is nervous or stressed she exhibits similar ‘clean freak’ tendencies to her parents.), bureaucracy & saluting. Friends: ED-E, Raul, Lily, Vulpes Inculta, Red Lucy, Jack (Great Khans), Rex, Fisto, Boomer kids Acquaintances: Boone, Veronica, Arcade, The King. Former friends: Cass (Cass disapproved of her relationship with Vulpes and her friendliness with the Legion, Dolores got fed up with being threatened by Cass so told her to fuck off, & wasn’t surprised or saddened when Cass did just that.) Enemies: Benny (feigned seduction, then stabbed him in the throat with a concealed switch-blade. Shot him in the head with Maria to make sure he was dead.) Personality: Sarcastic, dry sense of humour, intelligent, open, cheerful, charming, happy to help if she believes you are good for the world and her, sexually open. Trusts her gut feelings and easily becomes mistrustful; particularly after almost being murdered (you have to be or you’ll end up in a shallow grave), gets a thrill from stealing & finds it too hard to stop.                                   ______________________ Other info: Adores ED-E. Cried for a week after the Lonesome Road and wishes she could go back and blow everyone up to try to save ED-E #2 (Even though this doesn’t actually work in the game, you sadly lose the little dude no matter what you chose). Has Raul set up a long range radio receiver on ED-E #1, so she can find new radio stations because if she hears ‘Johnny Guitar’ just 1 more time she’ll kill someone. Loves travelling with Raul. He’s non-judgemental, funny, and she loves his Vaquero outfit. He helps her with her Spanish & repair skills, she helps him feel useful again. They make a great team of gunslingers. Raul moves from his cabin to live in Jacobstown in one of the spare cabins. Dolores is so happy she gets to visit Lily AND Raul when she visits Jacobstown. After Hoover Dam Doores is given one of the cabins meaning she can stay whenever she likes. Misses her ‘Grandma’ Lily and visits often when she feels it’s safe enough to return to the Mojave. Travelled with Boone to REPCONN but was terrified he’d kill her if he found out about her and Vulpes/The Legion, so let him return to Novac. Travelled with Veronica for a while. After returning from the Sierra Madre she tells Veronica about Christine, and together they return to the hotel so Veronica and Christine could be reunited. Knows she’s playing a dangerous game with the Legion and worries she’ll end up enslaved, and knows one day she’ll have to betray them. She is terrified of losing Vulpes or worse, that he’ll kill her or she’ll have to try to kill him. Tells Vulpes of her concerns re: Legate Lenius and begs Vulpes to leave the Legion & California before he’s murdered by Lenius. Vulpes disappears before the battle at Hoover Dam. 8 months later, Dolores can be seen travelling with a blond haired man and ED-E (the Playing Card set you can get from the Special edition has Vulpes with blond hair so this is why I h/c him bleaching his hair at the end as part of his disguise). Greatly enjoys being a Courier. She loves to explore and see other lifestyles and meet new people. The events of New Vegas take their toll on Dolores and she can feel her normally cheerful personality being whittled down. She becomes short tempered and judgemental, resorting more and more to violence. To try to temper this she spends time talking with Arcade. She knows how he feels about her affiliation with the Legion and is glad he still keeps friendly with her (despite declining to travel with her). Whenever she’s in Freeside or nearby, she makes a point to visit the Followers to not just add to her medical skills, but to spend time with those worse off than her so she can see how others are affected by the Legion & NCR. This helps her make up her mind to go with Yes Man.

[vibe-stash]

Tampopo (1985)

Director: Juzo Itami Cinematography: Masaki Tamura Production Design: Takeo Kimura

[fallout-fallen-knight]

#1-#10 and #12-20 for your courier 😺✨

Oh my gosh this is so many! I’ll try to do the best I can.

1. Faction: Technically she’s aligned with Yes-Man, but she’s Followers all the way. She’s too optimistic and idealistic to be anything else.

2. Preferred Armor: she can use power armor after getting training from Judah Kreger, but after it broke down in the Big MT, she chooses not to. Right now, her “uniform” is Mobius’s Labcoat and the Gannon Power Helmet. I really like how they look together, it gives off a “Rocketeer” vibe. (Sorry for no pictures, I’ll try to get some as soon as she’s out of the Sierra Madre)

3. Weapon type: she’s a pacifist except when absolutely necessary, at which point she uses Energy Weapons.

4. Highest Skills: she’s a talented doctor and scientist, meaning that Medicine and Science are her highest skills. She also has a high speech skill (it was the only way to recruit Arcade), although this often translates to “says endearing things that make people like her” rather than the typical smooth talker. During OWB, she upped her stealth skill in order to better avoid robodogs, nightstalkers, and lobotomites, at least until she got the Stealth Suit. She’s working on Survival and Repair in the Sierra Madre right now. Her lowest are Barter and Guns.

5. SPECIAL: S 6 P 9 E 7 C 6 I 10 A 4 L 6

6. (Important) Perks: Cherchez la Femme, Big Brained, Comprehension, Computer Whiz, Educated, Four Eyes, Good Natured, Swift Learner, Lessons Learned. Obviously that’s not all of them but it’s the ones that matter most to her character.

7. Companions: She’s very close with Arcade, Veronica, and Christine, and loves her pets/robot friends Rex and Ed-E. God gets on her nerves, but she pities him more than anything else. Dean’s a bastard, but he’s a useful bastard, and so she deals with him and tries to stay in his good graces.

8. Relationships: No romantic partners, no. Most women aren’t interested in a gal covered in someone else’s blood, and the ones who would be are usually disinterested when they learn that the other person is still alive. She did harbor a mini-crush on Veronica when they first met, but that stopped cold when they first talked about Christine.

9. Demographics: white lesbian.

10. She was born and raised in Freeside, helping her mother in and around the Old Mormon Fort. They had a small apartment near Mick and Ralph’s.

12. I’m going to modify this question, and answer “How did the courier affect her?”. To that end, I don’t think she ever wanted a bigger life than a Wasteland medic, because a) it suited her and b) she knew she was doing real good in the Mojave. But when she was mistaken for the courier and saw what House was planning, she realized she had to step up and do what had to be done, for the good of the Mojave.

13. How did she deal with Benny: regrettably, she had to abandon him in the Fort, as there was no way for her and Arcade to fight their way out. It’s entirely possible that decision will come back to bite her eventually.

14. NCR/Legion rep: I think by this point she’s certainly a blip on their radars, especially the Legion, considering she visited their leader’s camp. She was stationed at Camp Golf briefly as a medic, but they haven’t connected the dots of her former life to her current. Besides that, her only direct interaction with the NCR thus far has been fixing the solar panels at Helios One and creating a redundancy in case the dam fell. Once she returns from the Sierra Madre, though, she’s going to start forging alliance across the Mojave, and that’s going to get their attention.

15. Freeside Rep: to them, Sophia is a shining example of what a kid from Freeside can grow up to become. The Kings all love her, especially after stopping a war between the gang and the NCR and fixing the King’s robo-dog. Mick and Ralph watched her grow up and always give her discounts on whatever she needs. Even the Garetts and the Van Graffs admire her from afar, and she often buys ammo for her weapons from the Silver Rush. And obviously, she’s in very good graces with the Followers of the Apocalypse.

16. Goodsprings/Novac/Primm Rep: not a lot, honestly. She stopped in and fixed Johnson Nash’s broken down eyebot for him, but other than, she doesn’t visit them very often.

17. Minor faction Rep: she actually hasn’t met any of the factions besides the Khans yet. While recovering at the Old Mormon Fort from her adventures in the Big MT, she discovered that the Followers had helped the Khans in the past, which encouraged her to reforge the alliance. She’s never interacted with the Brotherhood directly, only with its agents: Veronica, Christine, and Father Elijah, which has given her a … mixed reaction. I think she’ll like the Boomers once she gets to know them; they’re good people if a little weaponry-obsessed. The Gangers can rot.

18. NV Strip Rep: House isn’t fond of Sophia, but his opinion doesn’t matter much anymore. After installing Cachino in charge of the Omertas, she’s made sure that they won’t make any trouble with her. The Chairmen vaguely recognize her as “that doll that made Benny wig out and disappear” but don’t really know much beyond that. She knows something is up with the White Gloves, but she can’t figure it out. And the NCR Military Police are a little uneasy about the new faces on all the Securitrons, but they haven’t let it bother them yet.

19. Motives: originally, she just wanted to stop House out of fear that he would use the newly-upgraded Securitrons to take over Freeside. But she quickly realized that a power vacuum on that scale would only lead to the collapse of New Vegas and the surrounding area, allowing either Caesar or the NCR to move in and take over. Her ideal government is a loose syndicate of mutually-cooperating communities, with a newly-assertive Yes Man to defuse situations, using Securitrons if necessary. The NCR is welcome to remain in the Mojave, but they have to leave the greater New Vegas area alone and stop conquering absorbing communities - if they want to make a nation, they have to do it themselves. The Legion can, again, rot.

20. Theme song: I think there’d be a different one for each period of her story. (Note: not all of these are period correct, but I tried to fit the Old West vibe). When she’s just a wasteland medic, I think Ain’t That A Kick In the Head by Dean Martin fits her outlook on life and optimistic personality. From her trip to the Fort to just after assembling the Enclave Remnants, Short Change Hero by the Heavy fits how she’s panicky and suddenly realizes the enormity of her place in the Wasteland, even though she doesn’t want it. Throughout the Big MT, Devil at the Door by the Highlonesome encapsulates how she feels: scared, alone, surrounded by enemies and an expendable pawn for greater beings. But once she gets her brain back from Mobius and realizes the truth of why she was brought to the Big MT, her theme song changes to The World Ender by Lord Huron as she comes back from the brink of death and despair to become an unstoppable juggernaut of revenge, tearing down first the Think Tank, then tracking Elijah and Christine to the Sierra Madre to find out who Elijah is and then kick his ass for putting a bomb collar on her and Christine. If there’s another theme song for post-Dead Money, I haven’t found it yet.

Thanks for all the questions OP! It was really fun to think of answers to all of these.

[ben-j-man]

Secret War- Chapter 4

According to my wrist chron the wait in the line lasted only fifteen minutes, but for me, it felt like a whole frigging hour, did I say I hated waiting in lines? I did? Good so now it's doubly emphasised.

When we stood in between slight steps, I tapped the tip of my shoe on the rockcrete and the whole way I smoked Lho as my attention darted around like quicksilver. About halfway through the line, Elandria hissed at me: "really could you stand still for more than three seconds?"

I blew out smoke and replied simplistically, "no."

She kept quiet after that, perhaps Elandria was smarter than I gave her credit for perhaps she was aware it was an intended ironic echo of her own catchphrase and then I made a mental note that I should make use of her "whatever" more often.

Once we had finally made it to the end of the line, I whispered in Elandria's ear, "let me do the talking."

"Whatever," she hissed back "just be careful not to knock out the Moody Hammer with one of your nervous twitches."

I pursed my lips, that actually wasn't a bad idea I had yet to come up with a decent plan for starting this brawl. Just looking over the line alone I decided that this task would be easier said than done, sure I could pick a fight with one patron easily enough but initialising the needed chaos would be a challenge. The majority of the patrons were upper-class dandies who I doubted had ever taken part in a full-on bar brawl in their pampered lives. If it was a lower hive bar, well enough said really.

We approached the colossal hammer standing at the door, that despite his low browed, vat-grown, square-jawed appearance that a lot of his kind has his hooded, beady eyes gleaned a slight modicum of intelligence. He wore a suit not dissimilar to my own, and he held a data slate in his huge, meaty paw. I quickly noted the large, black tattoo on his neck which showed he belonged to the "Greasers" a local gang who was one of the first our intelligence had reported being reeled into Brutis Bone's little alliance. The holstered las pistol barely was hidden under his blazer, the Microbead in his ear and not just that but two more huge hammers standing inside the shadowy entrance to the club.

The Hammer smiled a surprisingly welcoming, toothy smile and gave us both friendly nods, "Sir, Mamzel may I ask that you state your names please."

"Indeed," I said, I may have put on a hammy performance earlier for Elandria's sake but as Glaitis taught me the true art in undercover acting is subtlety. To not get carried away and not let stereotypes rule your mindset, but that is of course unless the role calls for it "I am Autius Davian-Meggs, and this lovely young woman is Riculia Harviad."

As I said this, the Hammer scrolled down his data slate, "...Sir Autius Davian-Meggs and mamzel Riculia Harviad you are indeed on the list. Welcome to the Twilight bar and may you enjoy your time here."

"Thank you and we will," I smirked slightly as Elandria, and I turned into the club. I was not surprised at the doorman's professionalism and politeness it would be a given for a club this high up and well known but the colleagues in the entrance way did not share the doorman's friendliness I could feel them glare at us, suspicious and unyielding with bulky arms folded in an "intimidating" fashion.

I pretended to ignore them, and I assumed that they wouldn't treat their regular customers in such fashion (or else that their "bar" would have closed down a long time ago) evidence so far was pointing to this being more and more to be a Brutis Bones operation.

This could also prove that our rival organisation knows our faces at least.

I glanced over my shoulder at the doorman and saw him talking intently, his index finger placed against the microbead in his ear.

We followed through the three-metre-wide corridor; the hologram planning had proven right; the hallway curled subtly to the north-west. The steel walls dulled down into a dark crimson, metallic sheen and the walls trembled in time with the bass line. The way the building little advanced is that the main entrance's corridor splits the club in half starting from the south-east and ending in the northern corner, according to the information gathered the west side of the building was the private area for the VIP's and the east general club and bar.

"So? Do you have any kind of plan yet?" Elandria hissed right in my ear her soft voice causing me to start slightly from my thoughts.

"Some semblance..." I said twisting my pinkie finger in my ear.

"Which means nothing?"

"No it means what it means "some semblance," I'll think of something, I'm...Adaptable."

"Adaptable? Is that what you are calling it now?"

Before I could make a reply, my pocket vibrated, and swiftly I reached in and slid the small listening device in my ear.

"We're in," I said, though I knew that they would already know.

"Good work," Castella's voice came from the tiny speaker, "Where are you now?"

"Still in the corridor, not yet through the second security station the one with the metal detectors," I said "I find this place very interesting this is, very...Pretentious I can almost smell the pretentiousness in the air."

I heard Castella giggle on the other side, "what do you expect when it's called the Twilight Bar?"

"Well I expected that the main corridor would be darker and be more of a reference to its namesake, perhaps the building itself hates what it's called so much, so somehow, through sheer force of will, rejected it."

Again Castella laughed, "Alright, alright you know the drill you have four of these devices make sure you drop one in this corridor and another at the second station on your way in the other two keep with you and Elandria so we can communicate with you inside "

"Yes we know, we know didn't you just say that I knew the drill yourself?"

"I did, but as you know one can never be too careful, you know, just in case good luck and may the god-Emperor's virtue be with you."

Then she cut the link.

Immediately I halted my walk, slipped off of Elandria, pulled one of the listening devices out from my pocket. Took off the back adhesive and stuck it against the wall. Immediately the advanced, little piece of tech camouflaged its self in the wall's colour, texture all but invisible to the naked eye.

"One down and just one to go," said standing back to full height and offering my arm back to Elandria, "may we move my dear?"

Elandria begrudgingly took it and growled "if you call me "my dear" one more time-"

I sighed, "Yes I know, I know I will be sorely lacking my head, I know."

We walked through the detectors without consequence the listening devices were made from a rare and expensive Plasteek that was all but invisible to most scanners.

The two huge hammers posted at the checkpoint were just as affable as their colleague at the door and with the combination of my quick hands and the aide of Elandria I was able to place the listening device at the checkpoint successfully. When we entered into the club itself, dozens, upon dozens of dancers jumped and leapt to the music a massive orgy of activity which seemed to move like white caps on the sea, rising and falling, rising and falling. It was almost entirely dark the only light source lasers beaming down onto the countless cavorters, projecting patterns, numerous different patterns changing from flowers to even the Imperial Aquila, it was quite an amazing sight to behold.

Quickly I changed my tact, glancing over the crowd my brow hooded in concentration and noticed three more gangers straddled through the crowd each eyeing both Elandria and I with distinct suspicion, and I barely held back a sigh. I knew they are low hive gangers; I knew that they were muscle, but they wouldn't know subtlety if hit over the head with "A Guide to Infiltration and Espionage." Though it is an utterly terrible and pretentious book which the author (whose name I cannot recall) he blatantly did not do the research, it would help these idiots' skills in that field by leaps and bounds. That wasn't saying much of course.

Then it hit me, it frigging hit me and the realisation caused me to sigh and place my face into the palm of my hand if these gangers were this pathetic and it has taken this long for Taryst's "elite" to find this place.

I didn't want to begin to think about it; it was depressing just damned depressing.

But, actually, perhaps that was it. This "bar's" security was so stupid and sloppy that it wouldn't stick out from the rest of its ilk, or was I just over analysing it?

I didn't know, and I didn't care anymore.

"What the hell is wrong with you now?" demanded Elandria her raised voice heard barely over the music, but I could listen to her well, her words enhanced by the bud in her ear.

"I hate my job," I groaned, my voice muffled into my hand.

"What?"

I dropped my arm back to my side and said instead, "These guys are complete idiots."

Elandria smirked, "Please, do tell me something I don't know," she said, "I see three Hammers in the crowd, two armed with laspistols, one with a high calibre auto pistol all in torso holsters right?"

"Hmmm, interesting," I said.

"What?"

I gestured with a lazy hand; a small indistinct movement aimed toward the Hammer with the Auto pistol.

"See? His Pupils are dilated, and even in this terrible light it is obvious his skin is a shade lighter than his norm, that Hammer is scared, very scared."

"Scared of what?" asked Elandria then a big, evil grin spread across her symmetrical face, "scared of us?"

I shrugged, "hmm perhaps, that seems logical. He may be a survivor, a survivor of one of our many skirmishes against Brutis Bones' organisation over the past months he may even be the one which they had learnt our identities from."

Elandria grimaced in utter disgust, "a survivor! We were thorough! We let none escape!"

"See! It is that exact attitude that would have allowed for his escape in the first place but this we can turn toward our favour, though it also looks like we will have to reevaluate our plans."

"Why?"

"Because we will both die if we don't. If we make one wrong step, even try slightly to start a fight he will shoot us, he's as twitchy as a frigging Obscura addict on withdrawal."

"Even shoot through a crowd of civilians?" she smirked.

I sniffed and glared at her sidelong, I knew she was ruthless, but I was hoping that there would be some line for Elandria.

"Perhaps, but that is one risk I am unable to take, at first this was to be innocent fisticuffs against other club goers but if we are to do anything we will have to take care of that Hammer first."

"Kill him?"

I grimaced, "if it comes to that but-"

Suddenly the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and a cold shiver slid down my spine. The air temperature dropped dramatically, and the once enthusiastic crowd halted its partying as everyone shook in instinctive terror.

I had felt this before, and I knew what it was.

Elandria turned to me, her eyes white with animalistic fear, "psyker!"

My earpiece suddenly came to life, and Castella's uncharacteristically urgent voice erupted over the mic.

"Attelus! Attelus! Cough if you copy damn it!"

I quickly complied.

"Good! We have two new additions to the line outside and-and the people they are just-just parting, letting them through, I!-I can't make out their faces but-but-!"

The line began to fizzle and crackle, warping Castella's words into indecipherable syllables then entirely descended to nothing but static.

I felt my heart beat a thousand miles a minute and the fear! Oh, the fear! The adrenaline pumping! But still, I shivered in the unnatural cold and then I noticed Elandria who looked at me utter terror, whose lower lip shook and her body wavered.

"Why-why are you smiling?" she stammered.

"I'm smiling?" I asked, genuinely bemused, "well I guess I would now that everything is going according to plan, to my plan anyway."

I don't know if you had thought I had forgotten about Taryst's little psyker cadre or you had forgotten, but this, this I had actually seen coming, yes.

I knew I had to act; perhaps that time was short so I moved. Dodging and weaved through the frozen club goers within milliseconds I reached the Hammer with the auto pistol; the ganger was never able to react to my advance as his glazed eyes stared dumbly to the ceiling, his mouth gaping open in severe shock.

I smashed my elbow straight into his solar plexus which impacted in a sickening "crunch!" and the Hammer let out a feeble gasp for air, his torso bending in under the force. I gritted my teeth and followed on, punching him in the kidney then the ribs and finally finishing him by sliding to his flank and delivering a brutal, low side kick snapping his knee inward and causing the Hammer to let out a strangled howl of utter agony. I now had his Auto pistol in hand (which unsurprisingly already had the safety off), and I fired one round into the ceiling yelling out at the top of my lungs, "down everybody down!" Luckily the crowd were not so frozen in fear that they were unable to acquiesce to my request and with frightened yelps they did as told, all accept the two remaining bouncer Hammers who were only just now numbly reaching for their weapons.

I shot them both, one through the head and the other in his chest the shots accompanied by even more screams of terror.

"Damn it what the hell are you doing?" demanded Elandria as she retrieved one of the corpses' Las pistols and raising it to cover the entrance way.

"Improvising," I replied.

"Didn't-didn't you just say that "everything is going according to plan?"

"All according to one plan, yes."

"Then it isn't improvising then is it?"

"Whatever," I sighed, and I found the unconscious Hammer's three backup ammo clips and I slipped them into my pockets.

"So what is it that you improvise now oh you magnificent bastard you?"

I looked over my shoulder at her shocked, was that an actual joke? A backhanded compliment perhaps? Or something else entirely?

"Cover the door for me, would you. I have unfinished business to attend to."

"Then what the hell will I do when that Psyker gets here then?"

"Prey to that Emperor of yours!" that was my reply as I turned into the corridor leading to the VIP area, my confiscated Auto pistol raised and ready as I advanced.

I had not forgotten about Taryst's psykers, I had an idea in the back of my head that this little independent operation of Glaitis' would have been tracked, but that also begs yet another question, why would Glaitis have played this move?

She must have known of Taryst's psychic allies and was aware without taking the proper precautions that we would have been found out, and I could hazard a myriad amount of guesses as to why but now was not the time to-

As the corridor began to curve southward, I heard it, sudden and deafening, gunfire which reverberated within the passage. I gritted my teeth, risking a look and what I saw made my eyes widen in fear. One Hammer had lost his mind, he fired his stub automatic limply and indiscriminately into the crowd of terrified, screaming VIPs, two of which already lay dead.

The man was grinning mindlessly, foaming from the mouth and his body moved loosely like a marionette. This was defiantly a psyker's work, and this would have been nightmare fuel unleaded if I had not seen it many times before. Without breaking stride I shot him, I shot him straight through the face, the back of what was once a Human's skull exploded out into a cone of gore, the thick, red matter coating anyone near and the body dropped like a sack of spuds.

I left the corridor and out into a cacophony of cries as the VIPs all saw the small skinny bastard who held a smoking auto pistol walking right through their midst.

Are you really scared of me? Didn't I save all your hides? I thought Glaitis had once said that being a hero was overrated and once again she proves to be right, and I kicked the corpse as I walked through, "shame about the face," I muttered.

I came to the door which led into the "restricted" area and studied the lock, it was one of your atypical passwords encoded things and to the consequential cry of many an onlooker I raised my pistol, turned away covered my face with a forearm and blew out the lock with one deafening pull of the trigger.

I kicked the door open then was forced to throw myself back into cover mere milliseconds before the torrent of Las fire cut through the air. I had managed a glimpse of the lone Hammer, the lone Hammer with crazed eyes, who stood six metres down the corridor and who still kept spraying on full auto despite my absence and who's insane screams of fear I could hear well over the rounds, he had no cover, nothing.

I only had to wait for several seconds for the fire to stop and to hear the familiar hiss of overheated Las weaponry then I stepped out. "You idiot!" I roared as I put two rounds through his torso. Of course, his idiocy and the other's fear could be explained by the psychic presence. Now I could see my breath steaming and the ice on the walls, I grinned, thank you Taryst you are making this way to easy.

I kicked open the door at the end of the corridor and entered into what I remembered from the schematics a larger room and found it was a recreation room one that was already held and makeshift fortified buy three more of Brutis' Bones mooks. I was almost caught completely unawares, not prepared for an organised defence and was immediately forced back into hiding as they opened fire. I had accounted for the psyker's presence to be more lasting and at times like this, I would kill for a grenade or manstopper rounds they would easily blow fist size holes through the table which they had turned over. It looked like it wasn't going to be so easy after all.

I briefly leaned out and fired off my last three rounds which forced the Hammers to duck behind their table. Ejecting the empty clip, slamming a fresh one home and without hesitation, I leaned back out. Even now I am not sure if it was skill or luck which was the cause of me managing to scalp one of the Hammers as he rose from hiding but either way, it shocked his comrades into submission long enough to allow me to sprint the distance and shoot them both through their faces at point blank range.

I vaulted over the table and retrieved a las pistol from one of the corpses, after checking the charge gauge was full, I moved on now with a big grin on my face.

The shots reverberated in the confined corridors as I fired two point-blank rounds into the Hammer's chest and my front kick followed on colliding into the limp corpse and propelling the dead Hammer into the next of his colleagues in line. Both bodies fell to the floor in a mass of writhing limbs and screams. While lunging over the screaming Hammer and the corpse pinning him to the floor I shot the next ganger as he was bringing his stubbrevolver to bear but the forth ganger in line was thinner and more nimble than the others as he slid past his collapsing ally and lunged into a hook punch intended on smashing in my head. I blocked the fist with a forearm, an inner-outer block which pushed the attack off course, augmented his momentum and caused his punch to connect straight into the rockcrete wall instead. His hand broke with a sickening crack, and the Hammer bellowed out in of utter agony a bellow which was abruptly cut short as I pistol whipped him in the base of the skull causing his forehead to follow after his fist in cracking against the hard surface.

He also wasn't much taller than I was so hence an effective human shield and just in time I hooked my arm around the man's neck, turned the limp form to face the next aggressor as he opened fire. The human shield took three rounds from the Hammer's auto pistol (I could only thank the Emperor that none of them wielded shotguns) Jarring the corpse with each and almost caused me to let go before I managed to shoot the hapless team killer over the shoulder of his murdered work mate.

The next Hammer, an older and horrifically scarred monster attempted to follow my example as he roughly shoved his traitorous allies corpse toward me to mask his advance, but I slid out the way, pushing my back against the wall and the two dead men collided into each other falling to the floor in a heap. The large ganger was on me and threw a deceptively fast hook that I barely managed to back peddle out the way from, he was actually pretty good much to my surprise and my attempt at bringing my pistols to bear was interrupted by his follow-on, a right jab that I swayed under and then an uppercut I narrowly sidestepped. The next attack was a lunging back fist that sent me back peddling even further and almost made me trip over the corpses that I had left in my wake.

The Hammer stopped his assault and glared at me balefully, one of his eyes milky white the other a piercingly clear blue

"Put those pistols away," he grunted as he cracked his knuckles "I see you are a worthy opponent so let us truly see who is the better fighter."

I sighed and complied dropping both my pistols to the floor with a clatter.

"Hmm right," I said, "but first, just one question, are you by chance Brutis Bones?"

"No, I am-"

Before he could continue any further I knelt, picked the pistols back up and shot him five times, the first exploded out his guts; the second blew a ragged hole in his chest. The third burst open his right bicep, the fourth hit him in the thigh, causing him to spin around so his back was facing me and the last ripped out the base of his spine, and he fell straight to the floor, flat on his face. I knew it was overkill but these "Honour Before Reason" idiots were usually tough bastards and that was the only way I could make sure he wasn't ever getting back up. Taryst wanted Brutis Bones alive so I would have made an effort if it was him.

Sighing again and wondering how the hell such an idiot could have lived as a Ganger. I casually lowered my Las pistol and put a neat black hole through the forehead of the Hammer who was still struggling to escape from under his dead ally.

I felt dirty; sure I was sure I could have beaten the idiot eventually if I had done the honourable thing and fought fair but that would have wasted time and time was one thing not on my side.

As I moved through that maze of cramped, brightly lit corridors the closer I came to the area I guessed was Brutis Bones' quarters. More and more a feeling of unease grew at the pit of my gut, that almost the very air disturbed my very being and with that feeling, it became more and more evident the lack of any psychic activity around me. Only one thing off the top of my head could explain this phenomenon, the presence of a blank. A person whos very existence nullifies the activities of the warp around them dissipating all psychic abilities at a certain radius. It would explain a lot, Taryst's apparent need of an army to track down this enemy even with the cadre of psykers at his beck and call. But there had to more to it than that even with the blank here making this place all but invisible why hadn't Taryst just captured a lowly Hammer and had one of the psyker's delve into their mind? Was Taryst so paranoid at having the activities of his psykers found by the local authorities so frigging overwhelming?

That also begs the question how the hell could Taryst know my thoughts so well that he could tell of my doubts about my job, perhaps the answer lies in the "blocks" placed in mine and all my fellow mercenaries minds, perhaps they allow the psykers to read our thoughts without giving off any hint? Was that even possible? I didn't know. But if it was true, then it only confirms that Taryst didn't want anyone outside of his organisation knowing of this hunt and the complicated precautions he was prepared to take to keep it that way.

Then "paranoia" was a frigging understatement.

But this "answer" was just fuel for many more questions; why was Glaitis willing for her apprentice and many of her employees implanted with these things? Why would Glaitis have both Elandria and I along to this operation if Taryst could have his psykers read our minds? And I will not say that it was "because she didn't know" idiocy, she knows, she knows everything I can say that with an amount of conviction that I hadn't felt in ages. Perhaps she wanted to have Taryst reveal his organisation by forcing his hand? But then why would she want Taryst to show himself in the first place? Could Garrakson know more than he lets on as well, he was our leader and longtime senior in Taryst's company?

But most importantly what was the cause behind all this paranoia and why the hell was so much effort going into tracking down this low life gang leader?

The answer to that I could hazard a myriad amount of guesses upon.

I reached the end of yet another corridor, stopping at the edge I pushed my back against the wall and glanced around the corner.

Two Hammers stood guard at the doorway situated halfway down the next hall both were bulky men both held Auto Guns, and both glanced about with nervous expressions.

Without hesitation, I stepped out and vacated the nearest ganger's brains out the side of his skull with one auto pistol round. The other turned to me in almost admiral discipline, attempting to bring up his auto gun to fire. He managed it half way before my Las shots killed him, one blew through his ribs, and the other blew out his neck.

I ran on, unloading and reloading my smoking pistols on the move then pushed my back against the wall next to the already open entrance. It was then I could not help but think to myself that perhaps this was a little too easy and you also may be wondering, why I am doing this? Why it is simple, and it is not what you may think if it is that I bring in Brutis Bones finally Glaitis will see me worthy and promote me to full assassin-hood? Well, that would be a bonus, but no. I am and have never been a particularly ambitious person I have no dreams of ascending Glaitis and taking her blood-soaked throne (the metaphorical one of course but at times I have wondered) No I just wanted to have this frigging job done, finished so we can move on to something else. I hated this crap and was frankly sick of it, that is why I am throwing myself blind into the Wolves Den, killing anything and everything in my ways like a Hitman on heat. The poor Hammers who stood in my way were just the instruments for me to take my anger and aggression out on, almost like Vex was.

I physically winced at the thought and felt the guilt I had suppressed over the earlier hours boil back to the surface. I swallowed hard and forced it back down. I still had plenty more frustration to go around, Now, with that finally explained I took in a huge breath and slipped through the doorway. My pistols raised and covering the interior. The room I emerged into was large at least eight metres in length and fifteen in width, a brightly lit rockcrete cave. Barren to an extreme and there were twelve thick, square pillars, six along the diameters of the room. It was empty except for the one figure who stood in sight, right at the epi-centre, he had his back facing me but I could see the heavy carapace armour he wore.

"Brutis Bones I presume?" I said, covering him with my guns.

No answer, the man just stood deathly still and stayed silent.

"Hmm right. I'm not going to bother to say for you to surrender. This place looks like it's been built specifically for a firefight isn't a coincidence is it?"

Again he replied with silence.

Something inside me snapped, and I cocked my pistol, "don't you give me the frigging silent treatment you bastard! Do, you, have, any idea the crap, I have been through to find you!"

"I can't believe that so many of my guards killed single-handedly by a kid," the man said abruptly, "a foolish kid playing at games far too large and complicated for him to even begin to comprehend."

I wasn't sure how to reply to that, what he had said had hit quite close to home.

"And nope, sorry kid I am not your Brutis Bones, he is, in another castle, you could say."

I gritted my teeth, widened my eyes and tightened my hands on the grips of my pistols.

"How the hell do I know that you actually are him and not just lying?" I asked, struggling to keep my voice neutral, if this wasn't Brutis Bones then Glaitis' intel must have been misled, no I sincerely doubted that. If this were Brutis Bones, she would know, and if this man who talked to me now isn't him, then it would just reinforce that this as one of her feints used to force Taryst to show his hand.

The man shrugged, "you can choose to believe or not to believe, kid, either way, its the truth, now I may not be him, but that doesn't make me want to live any less so..."

Then he spun, as quick as lightning and he held a stub revolver raised and firing.

All I could do was a lunge, diving behind the nearest pillar just in time. But I was not fast enough to dodge the one round which skimmed my left shoulder, the sharp pain erupted up my arm, and I yelped out as I hit the floor.

Getting into a crouch, I pushed my back against my pillar cursing savagely. I had his back wholly covered, and yet the bastard still got the drop on me!

A few more shots rang through the vast room; then there was silence, the only sound the ringing clatter of empty shell casings falling to the floor.

"You really are him aren't you?" I said.

"Maybe, maybe not," the man replied.

My reply was me suddenly leaning out slightly and wailing off four shots in his general direction.

"Well, either way, you're fighting me now and either way you are going to pay the consequences!" I said as I lunged out into the open, my guns blazing.

I ran, sprinting sideways and fired my pistols at my opponent who ran with me. The bellowing, rudimentary consistent and combined sounds of our weapons discharging over and over echoed throughout the interior with a horrible, deafening cacophony and tore into the decor, which wrought in a new and far more interesting scenery of bullet holes in the rockcrete walls and pillars.

Making it to the next pillar and leaving the clatter of spent shell cases in my wake I pushed myself up against my cover. I lent outlet off a few shots with my Las pistol then I spun to the other side rockcrete cover and neatly caught my enemy off guard as he attempted the same manoeuvre. The man barely made it behind his colonnade as I opened fire. Then without hesitation, I moved, running toward the other side in an attempt to bridge the gap while I wailed away with my pistols to keep the bastard pinned to prevent his reconciliation.

Without hindrance, I found the other side of the same colonnade that my opponent cowered behind, pushed myself against the pillar then slid out, pistols raised and found the man had gone.

I snarled out a curse, turning just in time to catch him as he came around the other side of the pillar and desperately knock his raised Stub Revolver's aim off course. The round once meant to cave in my skull shot off, its fate only to create yet another smoking crater in the wall and I followed on, kicking out viscously at the man's groin. The man sidestepped the attack with almost contemptuous ease and attempted to bring his gun to bear on me again. My inner-outer block smashed the shot aside after which I opened up with my auto pistol.

Despite the shot being point blank the man still managed almost to dive out the way, instead of to explode his ribcage the round impacted against his shoulder guard, it's kinetic force caused him to turn in mid-lunge, and he hit the floor clumsily, I could clearly hear him gasp out his lungs ejected air with the impact.

I didn't hesitate, shooting once! Twice! Hitting him as he rolled across the floor but that was all I could muster before he made it behind the next pillar and my pistols clicked empty.

Sliding around the first colonnade, I knelt and began reloading; I had six clips left, four for my auto pistol and two for my las. Along the way of my massacre, I had pilfered them off the corpses of my many victims, and I could also hear my opponent following suit along with his pained gasps and grunts as he performed the task.

"You know," I said as I slammed home a fresh clip into my auto, "you would be dead if you weren't wearing that carapace."

"I know," he replied, and I could not help but be surprised by the sadness in his words, "your good kid I'll give you that."

"I know," I echoed back.

"Perhaps even good enough to kill me," he went on, "and that I actually wouldn't mind, I have lived a long life kid, killed a lot of people I really wouldn't mind. Going out with one final blaze of glory."

I grinned, "well if your so keen to die why don't you just step out and make this easy for me?"

The man sighed, "you and I know I can't do that, your boss, Taryst wants me alive, doesn't he? There is more at stake here than one old man and his lowly life; my mission demands that I live amongst the populace of Omnartus to complete it so I can't give up, I can't let you kill me or anyone else."

It was my turn to sigh, "and what the hell is it that is exactly at stake?"

"More than you could imagine."

Something in those words made sudden indescribable fear crawl up my spine, fear even more potent than the presence of the blank, fear even more potent than the psychic activity of earlier.

"W-what do you mean? Who the hell are you?" I managed.

"I'm nobody, no one. But I know who you are, you are what I said you were earlier, nothing but a kid, a kid caught up in games far too complex and adult for him. Just some poor, innocent kid who's been thrown into this mess and for what I am about to do I am truly sorry."

I gritted my teeth, somehow the fear was even more potent than before, my heart shuddered in my chest, and my hands began to shake uncontrollably.

"Sorry? W-what the hell are you sorry for?" I demanded.

"For this."

I heard a beep, the brief pure sound of a press of a button, small non-descript but somehow it held more weight than any of his words.

I flinched in fright as I heard a nearby, small section of the wall slid open revealing the darkened room beyond and what stepped out from its depths made my heart turn to ice.

"I am truly, truly sorry."

It stood at three metres tall, its enormous bulky body utterly corded with a musculature not at all possible for a normal human being. It was naked except for a torn old loincloth, it's pink, the swollen skin was covered all over with countless hideous scars, both its hands had been severed at the wrists surgically replaced with two huge, razor-sharp axes and its teeth where filled into ugly incisors.

The Arco Flagellant didn't make a sound, no roar from it's smiling maw as one would expect from such a monster and that somehow made it even more terrifying, silently and with grace belying its bulk it turned it's attention to me then lunged for the kill.

Despite my utter terror I still managed to dive out the way of the Arco Flagellant's charge. I landed and neatly rolled into a crouch and turned in time to see it practically eviscerate a frigging three metre thick solid rockcrete pillar with just one swipe of its huge Axe. It then shoulder barged straight through carrying on as though it was nothing. The wanton destruction showered the surroundings with chunks of rockcrete and an explosively ejected cloud of dust.

This was one enemy I couldn't defeat, this, this thing was so far out of my league that even if I was full equipment with armour everything I would be nothing but a spec to it, even less of a nothing than that damned pilaster it had just destroyed with nought but its forward momentum and its shoulder.

I crawled to my feet, a clumsy and hard action as my sweat-slicked hands almost slid out from under me twice. The task of getting up must have taken me no more than a few seconds but felt like a lifetime, any second I expected the thing to bear down on me to deliver the killing blow, but it never came and once up I turned, and I ran. I ran like the coward I am.

My heart beat so fast my chest hurt, my whole body shook so hard I was in utter agony I sprinted as quickly as my aching legs could go, but still, I never felt it was nearly enough.

I made it out the door and turned right, the way I had come and barely a millisecond after the Arco Flagellant crashed the entrance way.

I never looked back; I didn't dare. I just ran and ran as my arms flailed about like curtains in the wind, my breaths came out as agonising rasps. Every step I made felt like a million more, and I never looked back, but I could feel its presence behind me, tailing me, descending on me like a predator about to pounce upon its prey and with every step I took I expected to feel it's Axe cut through me.

Those corridors seemed to go on forever these were the corridors which mere minutes ago I had slaughtered my way through, and I now ran for my life through them. Terrifyingly I almost tripped over many of the dead Gangers I had killed. Even in my fear fueled state I was able to see the irony that falling over one of them meant falling to my demise.

When I finally made it out of that maze, my body almost physically ejected itself out the door, out into the club beyond and the relief that washed over me in reaching it here was completely and utterly unjustified.

But despite myself, I slid to a stop and turned to look back and found the monster wasn't there, that somehow, someway I had lost that inhuman thing in the maze, as the corridor behind me was completely and utterly devoid of life.

Perhaps it wasn't as manoeuvrable as I was through those sharp turns so it had lost its way? And I was to busy mindless in my flight to ever notice?

I glanced around and to my complete horror found that the partygoers hadn't moved an inch since my earlier exit, they all stood gaping and staring at me with terror milked eyes.

Something deep down inside me said that the Arco Flagellant would never be lost, that it would hound me until I was dead or it was, I knew soon, very soon that it would come down that corridor and massacre anyone and anything in its path, these people included. I could leave them, run and run, leave them to be slaughtered delaying it further so I could have a slighter semblance of a chance to escape.

And why not? They were nothing! The sons and daughters of haughty, arrogant, corrupt aristocrats and bureaucrats! Whatever the galaxy would never mourn them, they were nothing just dozens of lives among trillions more.

But yet they were innocent, these people, these men and women they had come here to dance to enjoy themselves. To forget their worries and find some slight joy in this Emperor-forsaken universe, every day millions of people die whether killed by the numberless Xenos that ravage humanity on every front or those of our petty species, the insignificant members of humanity like myself. Perhaps I could conquer my cowardice and work for once to prevent even just a few of those millions of souls instead of being a contributor. That if I died and even one of them survived, that they would remember the small skinny bastard who gave his life to protect them, that my sacrifice would mean something for someone.

I was wrong, I was the nothing I had died inside almost a decade ago when war had ravaged my world, my country, my home. When war separated me from my mother and forced me into a world of ruthless scavenging, a life toiling away for survival amongst the ruins among the rest of the beasts I-.

It was then that I noticed that despite everything I had kept hold of my pistols.

I smiled bowing my head and felt the tears abruptly swell in my eyes and roll down my cheeks, this was the first time I had cried in a very long time, and boy did it feel good. I thanked the Emperor that I had my answer and seemingly almost on cue; I heard the repeating, quick-fire plodding sound of the Arco Flagellant's running at the end of the corridor.

I raised my pistols and cocked back the hammer of my auto, perhaps this was the retribution for what I had done to Vex, perhaps this was my vindication for my selfish cowardice.

The smile never left my face even as the creature bared down upon me and my shots fired ineffectually off of its thick hide.

A voice, a womanly, low soft beautiful voice spoke in the impenetrable black, a familiar voice. One I felt I knew well but could not recall to who it belonged to. It came off somewhere distant, far, far out in the blackness.

Was this death? Was what the church of the Ecclesiarchy taught about death complete crap, was death just this black void of nothingness?

I had never believed. My mother was highly religious but I never was, we were opposites. We were so similar in our personalities but different in our beliefs, we would clash countless times, verbal fights of stunning ferocity on both sides and now I think back at it, it was a miracle that the Ministorum never found out about my Heretical words. That my mother loved me enough never to tell them.

I believed that the Emperor was never the god that people proclaim him to be, but a great man whose wisdom and power was indeed God-like. But how could he ever have wanted this for us? All the suffering all the death? The rampant poverty, the chaos, the mindless religious fanaticism in his name, the millions of planets dedicated to the hives of organised chaos and the meek, brainwashed bureaucrats who knew nothing but their small boxes and the Cogitators at their fingertips our whole encompassing bureaucracy?

If this was indeed death I wouldn't mind, I felt safe here, I felt truly free just floating in this black, in this nothingness and that voice, that beautiful, beautiful soft voice oh I could listen to that voice forever.

Slowly though the voice came closer, as if whoever, the voice belonged to silently walked toward me through the black.

I wasn't scared, never was I scared and I could start to make out the words which became more explicit as the voice came closer what was it that it said? It sounded like a prayer of some kind, the prayer like the voice felt familiar, but I couldn't quite recall what it was.

Then it stopped, the voice; gone and my heart emptied at its absence, was I supposed to spend the rest of eternity without its comforting words, without its company?

Wait, my heart? What?

"Attelus," whispered the voice in my ear, "open your eyes."

Without hesitation I did as told, and found myself alive, lying in one of the many beds in Taryst's medicae facility and that the voice had belonged Castella who sat at the end of my bed her hands clasped together in prayer and pushed against her forehead with her elbows leaning on my duvet.

She was so beautiful and to see her there filled me with such indescribable joy at being alive.

I tried to open my mouth to speak out to her through my dry, crack lips but all that I could manage was a pathetic rattle as though my body had forgotten how to talk.

She stopped her praying and looked to me, her eyes were red with tears, and it hurt me to see such beauty marred. But her smile oh her smile it was a smile of indescribable happiness, one of great relief, a smile which showed the weight which had left her shoulders.

I tried to move my hand to beckon her closer, but my whole world is racked with pain at the effort, utter agony which made me close my eyes and grunt out in response.

It took me until then to realise I was covered from head to toe in bandages and to see the drip cord which fed into my arm.

But she got the hint and leaned closer, nearing her ear toward my mouth for me to speak and I said, "Stop praying, I'm trying to sleep."

Castella threw back her head and laughed out loud; it was a sweet sound a beautiful sound from a nice person who seemed to utter nothing but sweet sounds.

She laughed so hard she had to wipe a tear from her eye, and she sat back down on her chair.

"It's good to see that you are still yourself Attelus," she said.

I tried to smile but even that hurt.

"You have been out for a long, long time my friend," she carried on.

"How...Long?" I fought to say.

Her eyes widened into a pained expression that told me I really didn't want to know.

"I...See."

Her perfect face suddenly curled up, and tears ran down her cheeks. The change in emotion was so fast that I didn't know how to react.

"Th-thank you," she squeaked.

I couldn't manage to ask what she was thankful for but she still answered.

"Thank you for proving to me that you still are a good person. Ever since I had first met you, I knew you weren't like the rest us, that you weren't evil, that you still cared for more than just yourself. Thank you for proving to me you still are human," she sniffed heavily and wiped away her tears with her forearm, "after-after what you did to Vex I began to doubt you, I had begun to believe that you had devolved into the monster, but I see now that doubt was unfounded. You stood alone Attelus, against an impossible enemy, you willingly put yourself on the line for the good of others, you-you."

She couldn't continue her sentence as she teared back up again.

"And-and thank you that now I know no matter what happens, no matter how hard it is you will still be that good, kind, compassionate person inside. I just regret that we couldn't have got there in time to save you earlier and for that, I am sorry Attelus, I am truly, truly sorry."

Even if I had been able to speak then, I couldn't have, I was taken aback at her emotional outburst, never in all my career that I would have ever suspected that Castella cared for me so much, never.

She was always a friend, the only person who I could talk to with humour and trust, who saw me as a person and not some know nothing apprentice.

But then I realised something; I couldn't recall at all what had happened in that club after the Arco Flagellant had charged me, how the hell had I survived? Had any of the club goers escaped? What exactly had happened?

Castella sniffed again, and as if reading my mind she said, "you did it Attelus. You held off that monster for long enough that those people could escape, you went one on one with an Arco Flagellant long enough that Elandria, Hayden, Darrance and I could stop it before it could cause any more damage. If you had died Attelus your sacrifice would not have been in vain and I swear I'm telling you the truth, I know you aren't the most trusting person in this world but believe me on this, be proud Attelus."

She sniffed again but this time it had humour in it, "when we took you to Taryst's medicae facility, they said there was no way you would survive, that you would die within hours but I knew you were stubborn and you held on, you lived and-and most importantly, thank you, thank you for living, thank you."

Oh how I dearly wished I could reach out and comfort her or even thank her but everything was so hard, so, so hard, couldn't keep my eyes open, anymore, anymore, I blinked, once then twice, then I embraced the sweetness of sleep.

[zacklover24]

It’s all over but the crying Chapter I

It's all over but the crying, seemed fitting in a way for Lt. Hank Anderson was a decorated First lieutenant and served with the 108th Infantry Regiment, he was also a lieutenant with the Cambridge police. But now he was just Hank Anderson a man looking for his wife killer, and the jackass who stole his son. And maybe finding love again. A Detroit Become Human fallout 4 crossover that no one asked for but got anyway enjoy.

Rating: T for teen for now 

Pairings: Hank and Connor, and Reed and RK900

Tagging: @nykamito, @mandakatt, @luntian-berdengguhit, @itshaejinju, @moonraccoon-exe, @rikusqueenofhearts

When Hank had left his vault in search of his wife killer and the fucker who stole his son, waking up with a hangover from hell with sumo licking his face was not it. Hank was a former pre-war detective for the Cambridge police station, frozen the day the bombs dropped and he felt out of place.

“What the fuck?” He groans pushing up from the old dirty mattress. It had been a hell of time getting here.  After helping out the minutemen and learning from their old lady (who Hank knew was a drug abuser)  that someone in diamond city could help him.

Diamond city (was just Fenway park but with a shanty town in it. Hank was impressed that people had managed to build a safe home here.) However the mayor a pompous asshole told him that a detective could help him. A detective like him.

“Fuck.” Hank groans pitching the bridge of his nose. He would kill for a prairie oyster but he had a feeling that the bartenders didn't know what that was.

Hank stood but, as the room started to spin, he stood there trying to wait. As the room stopped spinning he looked around for his stuff. He wore the vault suit, with his old dark brown coat, boots and his old service revolver. (A small miracle that any of his prewar stuff lasted as long as it did. He really did owe his bot a thank you.) Hank did his hair in a sloppy yet neat small ponytail, pre war he use to keep his hair short due to being in the army and then becoming a cop. But now his hair was growing out.

“Come on sumo.” Hank grunts patting his leg and leaving. Hank let the inn and asked around and was told to follow the neon. The neon in question was located behind a store selling baseball bats. The neon was a tacky bright pink, it was in the shape of a heart with an arrow going through it and in the middle were the words,

‘ Valentine detective agency.’ Hank heart stopped, could he be alive after all these years? Two hundred years, maybe he was ghoul like that minuteman said. Hank couldn't move, he wanted to but couldn't. Sumo gently nudged Hank forward, and began to walk  towards where the agency was, the door was a little hard to find. Wedged between two walls and the dimly lit neon but Hank found it. The citizens were chatting around him and plain ignoring him.

Inside was a stander office, in the back was a young woman with short brown hair, wearing a pink poodle skirt and white top. She muttering as she did her paperwork.

Hank coughed, and then spoke, “Excuse me miss, is the detective here?” He asks, the woman let out a sad sigh.

“Great another stray coming in from the rain, asking for his help, I’m sorry the office is closed. I’m  traci.” She tells him turning around and clutching a bundle of papers to her chest.

“Hank, I’ll come back once your open.” Hank tells her turning on his heel to leave.

“No, the detective you see is gone. We can’t stay  open without him. And unless he’s found this place will have no choice to close. And I can’t lose this job.”  Traci tells hank, Hank could see the tears in the young woman's eyes.

“Maybe I can help.” Hank offers, his voice was soft and gentle. Traci perked up a little,

“Really? You would?” She asks.

“Of course, can’t have a pretty lady crying. Now what can you tell me?”

“The detective was looking into a ring of red ice dealers, lead by a ganger named Carlos ortiz, he was small fish, nothing to worry about. But a month or so ago, he became big, he got himself a gang and that’s when it got bad. Like real bad.” Traci tells him taking in a deep breath,

“Rumor had it that ortiz found an old vault, and unfinished pre-war vault. Apparently the vault had everything he needed to make red ice.”  Hank felt a weight settle in the pit of his stomach, red ice was it still around even after all these years? Fuck.

“Where is the vault?”

“Park street station, it’s called vault 114. The detective is wearing a faded tan trench coat and a tan fedora. Can’t miss him. And thank you.”

“Your welcome.”

******************************************************************************

Hank and sumo left the shanty town and headed for the old park street station, it wasn’t hard to find. Hank took out a few dumb raiders that got to close and didn’t know any better. But they made it right as the sun was going down.

Hank took in a deep breath and pressed a finger to his lips, sumo took the hint as they entered the station. The station was loaded with mobster wannabes, they were easy pickings for hank and sumo. The duo made there way down into the loading area picking off more of the mobsters soon coming to the vault, there were two mobsters waiting for them at the entrance nothing that hank couldn’t deal with.

Hank let out a whistle, “Fancy, right sumo?” Hank asks the dog as he loaded his gun. The dog let out a park and attacked a ghoul mobster. The further they went into the vault the more mobster they meet. And then it got quite, Hank made his way to overseer’s office. Hank stopped when heard voices, from where he was standing hank saw someone in front of the office.

“How you doing in there valentine? Feeling, hungry want a snack?” Came the first voice in a mocking tone.

“Keep talking meathead. It’ll give ortiz more time to think how he is going to bump you off.” Hank was frozen that voice, it couldn’t be. Hank slowly walked over to the stairs, listening and waiting.

“Don’t give me that crap, valentine. You know nothin’, you got nothin’.” Meathead snorts.

“Really? I saw him writing your name in that black book of his. ‘Lousy cheating card shark’ I think were his exact words. Then he stuck name across three times.”  Valentine tells him. Meathead didn’t say anything but when he did you could hear the fear the god in his voice.

“Not that black book, I got to make this right.” Meathead ran, Hank smirked and shot in him the head.

“HEY YOU! I don’t know how you are, but we got three minutes before they realize that muscles for brains ain't coming back. Get this door open.”   Hank could make out a human like silhouette in the office, it looked like Connor but didn’t what the fuck.

“Yea, yea hold your damn horse.” Hank barks as he opened  the door. With the office opened, hank could only stop and stare. It was but wasn’t Connor.

The fake Connor had the same soft short brown hair, doe brown eyes. But the fake Connor was missing part of the ‘skin’ (if you wanted to call it that)  along the right side of his jaw and check and neck, the ‘skin’ on his left hand was all gone leaving a metal one behind. He was wearing a white button up shirt with a loose dark blue tie and tan pants, and shoes.  His coat was in tatters and the hat did nothing to hide the hair. Connor reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled a cigarette and light it, those hank had feeling it did nothing for him.

“Ah my knight in-shining-armour. But the question is, why does he come all the way down here looking for an old private eye.” Hank could only stare, words were lost on his tongue.

“What are you?” Hank asks swallowing the lump in his throat. Connor snorted,

“I'm a synth. Synthetic man. All the parts, minus a few red blood cells. Names’ detective Connor Valentine, and who are you?”

It was hank turn to snort, “Lieutenant Hank Anderson, I came here on behave of Traci.” Connor blew out some smoke,

“I owe that girl a rise. I came here looking for ortiz trying to put end to his red ice making they caught me. So why do you need me?”

“My wife was killed, my son was stolen.” Hank tells him.

“And you need an angel of vengeance. That’s fine, you help me I help you.”  Connor tells him.

“That’s fine let’s go.” Hank tells him leaving the office. Connor stood there a moment as he stamped out his cigarette, who was this man?

End of line

[warsofasoiaf]

Fleet-based Astartes chapter comes by WoI&F. From where do they recruit? Somehow I doubt the orphans of Flea Bottom meet the standards of underhive gangers (OTOH, Dunk), but maybe some wildlings or other folks might suit? Does learning about the Others cause the Inquisition to order Exterminatus on the world as irreparably tainted by Chaos? Children of the Forest are obviously xenos filth, but are giants & Ibbenese & brindled men mutants or accceptable abhuman deviations?

First off, Dunk would make an awesome Lamenter.

Anyway, Feral Worlds typically look for pre-steel societies to recruit from, so the wildlings and mountain clans of Westeros would be a good choice, the White Scars would recruit exceptional Dothraki khals and bloodriders. Sothryosi humans appear to be homo erectus, though someone with a better knowledge of early hominid would know better than I.

Thanks for the question, Anon.

SomethingLikeALawyer , Hand of the King

[justabadasskid]

@patriopsy​

robin knew he gave up the impression that he didn’t give a fuck but checking into these small motels in the middle of nowhere always made him feel uncomfortable.  he especially felt uncomfortable when drew wasn’t with him to add a buffer of whiteness to make these small interactions run smoother. he stood there, having rung the little service bell twice. the clerk was somewhere in the back though a motel this small he wasn’t such how much of a back there could possibly be, but still. he shifted awkwardly on his feet, giving a ganger to the wall with its mounted moose head which gazed back at him with vacant eyes. a woman revealed herself, young & plain probably hovering somewhere in her mid to late twenties. her eyes widened for a moment before the mask of hospitality snapped into place. robin was keen enough to notice the shock but familiar enough not to be bothered ( much ). he was sure this motel didn’t get many residents much less those of color, especially one’s not clad in some sort of flannel.

 “h-how can help you sir?” 

she smiles politely even if it seemed a touch strained. he wonders what else he could need near eleven o’ clock at night other than a room. 

“like a room please.” 

she nods & moves to get him a key but not before engaging in him small talk much to his displeasure.

  “i’ve never seen you before. new around here or passing through?” the musles in his shoulder tense at the prospect of small talk that he had to indulge otherwise he’d hurt her feelings & be caterogized. he kept his responses brief hoping that she’d get the message & stop. 

“ passin’ through. um, i’d need-”   “ passing through? from where? ”  “new york city.” “new york city?!,” oh that seemed to impress as it did everyone small town person he’d come around. “ oh i should have guessed. never been there before i bet it’s magical. ” he nods & exhales a small chuckle. he tries to make his body as open as possible & it pains him. he just wanted the damned key for a two bed room. 

drew pushed his way though the door with his foot in hand a number of boxes that robin felt would be better suited for the car but drew insisted were “too sensitive” to be left unattended.  the clerk’s attention immediately shifted to drew, offering a warmer smile. 

                                  “i’ll be with you with you a moment sir.”

 she tried to pass off the keys, which robin clenched in his palm. ( didn’t get to say we needed two beds. ) he reminded rooted in the spot as drew shuffled to the frontdesk, flustered. 

“can get you a room right away sir.” 

                     drew opened his mouth to speak but robin beat him to the punch. 

“he doesn’t need a key.” the clerk looked confused & probably took the slight edge in his voice personally. “excuse me sir?” “he doesn’t need a key. we’re together.” her lips curled in a small ‘o’ as she paused for a moment before nodding twice, putting the second key away. this interaction took a turn he wasn’t anticipating as she warmed again to them both. 

   “ oh together! ” Greasewood’s small but there’s a bar just off 70th that you boys would be interested in.” 

                   robin’s eyes blink rapidly. she thought they were together.