#he's not like. talking to ANYONE about vault-tec and why that all went to shit

[radiaking]

coop is so funny bc while he super duper hates secrecy, he does also obviously understand why there are things that just need to be kept secret. and anyone who is just out there spilling the beans about literally fucking anything is immediately sus to him. this can be from something big and important to something mundane as gossip lmfao. he's just like. if someone told u something in confidence, keep to that. especially if you're just talking just to talk w/o any action behind it. if you wanna spill secrets in an effort to dismantle something, okay, that's different. but if you're too cowardly to do that and are just leaking secrets hoping someone else will do the leg work for u, he hates that.

[urbanqhoul]

Coffee For Your Head [Fallout 4- Nick Valentine & John Hancock]

sSOOO

this is is kinda my first attempt at writing short lil fanfiction, I’ve written before for video’s n such but I’m by no means great at it so plz dun stab me I just wanted to write some fluff for my fav ship quq.

This takes place in my prewar AU- aka fallout 4 companions if they existed before the bombs dropped n all that fun stuff

---

“Think ya really need to work on impulse control, kid.” Nick said flatly as he carefully tried to keep John from falling over in his drunken state well they stumbled back home.

“To hell with that...! Those assholes were practically begging for it...” The smaller man grumbled as he almost tripped over his own feet, causing them both to stumble forward before Nick corrected it. 

They’d both had a painfully long week with a particularly bleak case to solve involving a missing spouse. 

It was by no means out of the ordinary but something about this one specifically had stuck with him and he decided to distract his brain from it with a visit to the local pub.

 As always John insisted on tagging along claiming it was “To help him home” afterwards when they both knew full well who was more likely to get passed out drunk. Predictably the night had proceeded with some banter well Hancock sporadically got side tracked by challenging other patrons to drinking games. 

It was during one of these ventures that ended in Hancock roughed up, bruised with a bloody nose followed by getting kicked out of the bar. 

“...You know I’m pretty used to you getting into a tussle or two- But usually it has a reason. Care to tell me why you tried to knock the daylights out of a stranger?” Valentine prompted, raising an eyebrow.

His response was simply an annoyed groan as he wiped blood from his mouth, “Can we just take a fuckin’ bus or something- its too damn cold and I think the cunt fractured my knee…”

Ignoring it then, alright…

“Think they might call the cops if they see you like this, Really don’t need to end the night in the drunk tank with Danse starting us down like a bunch of roaches. Sides we’re almost home.” Nick said tiredly before carefully taking on more of John’s weight to keep him off his bad leg. 

---

“Sign up now and prepare for the futu-”

The television was promptly turned off leaving the only sound in the room, the gentle buzz of the coffee maker, and a snort of irritation from Hancock as he laid flopped over on the couch.

 Nick had just finished tending to his injuries and left him in the kitchen, well he prepared something to combat the inevitable hangover.

“Can’t tell you how sick I am of seeing vault tecs trash everywhere. Like hiding away in a hole in the ground is an amazing alternative and not a slower, more boring death.” He shuffled through the endtable’s drawer before pulling out a thin can of mentats- only to have it promptly snatched away by Nick and replaced with a warm coffee.

“Really looking to just lose every last bit of grey matter you have left tonight aren't you?” The detective chided as he sat next to him, paying no mind to the glare he received before John reluctantly sipped his drink.

After a moment of silence he spoke up again, “...Are you ready to talk about it?”  He asked slowly. “It isn’t like you to pick fights with folks who didn’t earn it.” “He did.”  Came the sharp reply before being cut off by an irritatingly loud slurp as he chugged the rest of the coffee. “Piece of shit- he was talking a load of garbage about you.” John muttered quietly, indignation clear in his tone. “About Winters and...Jen…”

At the mention of his long passed fiance, Nick felt his heart drop into his stomach. A familiar emptiness that came anytime her and the bastard that took her away were brought back to the forefront of his mind. 

John avoided eye contact, gripping the coffee cup with such force it was a wonder it didn’t shatter. “...He went on and on about how you must’ve been so traumatized by everything to have taken up with some street rat druggie. I can deal with that type of shit towards me- it's basically my entire life but using...everything you went through as some petty fucking insult- You don’t deserve that.” 

Nick started to say something before cutting himself off, his half hungover brain trying to process everything he’d said. 

Thanks to the high publicity of the Eddie Winters case, he’d become well known within diamond city. 

Though he took the high road and ignored it, he knew how much people loved to talk about him. About the broken man who’d lost everything trying to catch Winters only for him to get away scot-free. 

It’d been several years since all of this transpired but the moment he was found to be in a relationship with Mayor Mcdonough’s brother- everyone of course started to talk again. 

A stoic old private eye who lost to a crime boss, taking up with a drugged up vigilante was far too ironic for the public to resist. It baffled him how much free time the tabloids had to waste on him, exploiting the tragedy of his past and ‘scandal’ of his present.  

 Hancock had a way of hiding how much things bothered him. Most who were unfamiliar with him would say he was an overly confident arrogant jackass. And well there was a certain truth to that, those who knew him better would find that it was a façade. 

Nick could see it slipping out right now. The brash part of him that was quick to fight a judgmental prick fading away, revealing the hurt man underneath. The part of him that became tough because life didn’t give him any other choice. The part that needed him right now.

Unsure of what to say, Val reached over and pulled him into a tight hug that seemed to have caught him by surprise. 

“...You know I don’t give a damn about what anyone else thinks right?” John tensed up before relaxing in his embrace, nuzzling tiredly into his shoulder. “I know...It's just- Feel like I’m makin’ life harder for you. You’ve already gotten more than your fair share of bullshit from the world.”

“Doll they can talk all they want. I’m lucky to have you, Mayhem n’ all~ ” Nick couldn’t help a faint smile when Hancock’s hold on him tightened followed by a snort as he peeked up. “Ya need to give yourself more credit, you’ve been the best thing to happen to me in a long time…” 

“You’re real fuckin’ cheesy you know that?” John teased planting a soft kiss on his neck, “Do me a favor and take me to bed already, I need to sleep for at least the next year. That asshole was a shit fighter but he did manage to get a few decent bruises in on my legs.” He insisted, letting himself fall over into Nick's arms. “Think you just might be lookin’ for an excuse to not walk a few feet.” With a tired chuckle, Nick lifted Hancock up with what seemed like no effort at all.

“Ya know you’re surprisingly strong for being such an old fuck~” 

“Mm, think it might have more to do with you having the body weight of a starving cat, but that's just an educated guess.. “ 

[danseinthefallout]

the art of danse - two

a paladin danse fanfiction

story warning; this story contains strong language, adult themes (such as violence, smut/NSFW themes, drug use, and other harsh themes) and canon and un canon language and story plots of Fallout 4 and Fallout 3. 

summary; yea, the bombs may have fallen, but art and love have not. and of course, people still tell white lies

~~

word count; 3.5k

chapter two; synthetic childhood

Everything went back to normal, as best as things can. It’s been around three days since Stella’s adventures out in the Commonwealth. That wasn’t going to stop her, she was planning on making way back to the police station in a couple of weeks. Luckily, the signal at the police station was now strong enough that Stella’s Pip-Boy cough their signal, so she could communicate with Haylen. She found that out last night while she was working on modding her guns, a strange voice came from it. At first, she was concerned, but when Haylen stated it was her and she realized she left the signal on her Pip-Boy, she was happy to hear from her. Haylen was happy to talk to someone other than people who were apart of the Brotherhood, and Stella was happy she could talk to Haylen, maybe she could get a signal elsewhere.

“What’s the craziest thing you fought?” Haylen asked to throw the speaker as Stella was tinkering with the gun she was making for Danse as a thank you. Stella sat back and thought about her question. Haylen snuck away to talk to her before Ryhs or even Danse would find her. Haylen has so many questions for Stella, about her crazy adventures she had. 

“At 16, I fought two Deathclaws in the middle of a Gunner shoot out. For some reason, the Deathclaws didn’t attack me, but they did help me kill the Gunners… then they tried to attack me so I shot one square in the head but it did manage to rip my gun in two before it blood out… so I had to try to kill the other Deathclaw with my combat knife. It took a while before I confused the Deathclaw and I ended up crawling on his back and slitting its throat… I should have just taken one of the Gunner’s gun and shooting them, but that thought didn’t cross my mind,” Stella said through the mic. “I know it sounds so untrue, but I have the scar to prove it,” Stella stated as she felt the scare on her neck and chest. It was nasty and when she got it, she swore she was going to die right then and there and be a Deathclaw’s dinner.

“Jesus…” Haylen sighed, baffled by Stella’s story “I think with that, you have Elder Maxon beat…” Haylen laughed. Stella blushed.

“You think I’d be a good Elder?” Stella laughed. “Ah, just kidding, you shouldn’t answer that,” Stella stated. Stella could hear someone walking in.

“Hey, Haylen, who are you talking too?” A familiar voice was heard. It was Danse

“It’s- It’s Stella, Paladin. The signal was strong enough that I’m able to contact Stella,” Haylen stated. Stella’s cheeks where flushed, thinking about the Paladin.

“Hi, Danse!” Stella cheered. 

“Hello, soldier, nice to hear from you again… Haylen, Ryhs needs to talk to you,” Danse spoke with seriousness in his tone.

“Oh… okay. Bye Stella!” Haylen cheered.

“Bye Haylen. Talk to you soon okay?” Stellas asked.

“Of course,” And with that Haylen disconnected from the channel. Stella smiled as she looked at the loose pieces of the rifle she was modding. 

Stella got up from her desk as she went to the kitchen in her quarters. She lived with Lucas and Joanna and their quarters were rather large. However, tonight, she was home alone. Lucas and Joanna went to the ‘night club’ for some free drinks, but Stella wanted to stay behind to do some modding and to talk to Haylen of course. 

Stella went to the fridge as she grabbed an ice-cold Nuka-Cola. Endcliff was a freak about pre-war foods and actually being edible, so their scientists and chefs would get together to make them. It was nice. 

She took a sip, and sat down, unsure of what to do next of her rifle, maybe a suppressor? Ah, who knows. Stella just decided to move her little gun project back in her locker and pull out her typewriter, might as well finish that play she was writing for Cosmos…

The thing with Endcliff, is that they value education and the most important art and anything creative. That’s why it’s such a perfect fit for her. Stella always valued things like crafting, music, writing, painting, and dance. It would help heal wounds that were never physical. She remembered when she ran off to Goodneighbor in hopes of a memory wipe, she would sketch all the emotions she felt in her notebook. Luckily, before anything could happen, Nick Valentine busted in, helping her cope with her emotions, with her friends by her side. She realized that maybe she could learn from this and make art to express the awful feeling that flowed throw her veins. Or where they veins? 

Yea, the past 4 years have been difficult after her little disappearing act, but who could blame her? The women just found out she’s a fucking synth prototype and everyone is after her? Was her mother really her mother? Or just a vessel for a synthetic baby? All her childhood felt so real, but was it real to everyone else? 

Vault-Tec and the Institue? What a cluster fuck for disaster. 

What scared her the most is that the Institue still is after her. Even when she was captured at 19, she managed to wipe her entire file and flee. She was safe for now… but she keeps wounding when her time will run out and there will be a ninth attempt on her life. 

She kept that all to herself, the only people who knew her true self where her family and Nicky. She was happy about her new friendship with Valentine. He was fun and treated her with such care. He was like a father figure to her new identity and well, Nick felt comfort when she was around. A prototype. Just like him.

It was cruel what they did, telling her that she’s just a science project to those fuckers at the Institute on her 18th birthday, making her life crumble and saying her time was up. She couldn’t do that. She had to find something or someone else. Leave, forever. She realized she didn’t want that. Fuck the Institue.

The funny thing is, Stella, remembers her childhood like everyone normal child can… or as normal as one can get. Her oldest brother being in a gang and harassing everyone that crossed him and playing with anyone but the kids her age. The vault was never supposed to open. That’s what the Institute wanted. They thought that if they grew up on in a vault, they can easily get information, but now she’s here, in the Commonwealth where their little labs are. I guess she always knew something was off with her. She was anxious all the time and thought nothing she did was normal. She questioned her sexuality and her place in the world. It hit her too that she liked everyone, even ghouls and synths. She just didn’t care. Pre-war days, they would have a name for that. 

She was lucky she made way to Little Lamplight after she lefts her life behind. She never really cared for the vault, no one ever cared for her. She did question if anyone ever tried to look for her, but she didn’t look for them, so it was whatever.

 Stella never saw the world until she was 12. Broken… lost… She saw pictures of it before the bombs fell and she’d hope something of that life was still there. It was the Mayor of Lamplight that befriended her, they where close. He was the only one she talked to before she up and left again. Robert MacCready. Stella heard a rumor he was running with Gunner’s now and he made way to the Commonwealth too. She’d hope to bump into him at some point, maybe without the bloodshed, of course

Stella traveled everywhere in the Capital Wasteland before she made way to the Galaxy News Radio station. It was a blur at that time of her life. Brotherhood of Steel soldiers were doing their business. They were kind enough to let her stay there. Maybe that’s why she’s so drawn to the Brotherhood, even if they wanted to hunt her down now. Or maybe it was the fact that her first kiss and even doing that for the first time was with a Knight. She was 15, 2 months before she was planning on leaving and she had a crush on a new Knight… Knight Micheal. He was 17. The two hung out a lot and well… one thing leads to another and she was no longer a virgin. But that’s neither here or there.

Stella sat there, staring mindlessly, caught up in her thoughts. For a machine whose every waking moment was supposed to be programmed, she sure did think a lot. Quite honestly, with everything that happened since she got the news about herself, a lot of shit happened and well… she somehow saw the positive in it all. Even when the Institue did capture her only a year later. She learned a lot about herself in that time slot. She saw a lot of things she wishes she could be programmed to forget, but maybe… it was there for a reason. No matter what people say… no matter what the Brotherhood says or those bastards at the Institue, she is human.  People forget what human even means in this climate. 

Stella’s relationship with herself and other synths are always off and on, but to be fair, no other person outside Endcliff knows, it was the ones who were mindless under orders, jealous, almost towards her. She never understood why. Maybe the fact she remembered her childhood, had a real mother and father… but underneath it all, they were apart of the experiment all the same. She did feel bad for those wishing to have that loving mother or father, but that was never up to her. Nothing was. Besides her escape, of course.

The Institue was stupid enough to have every track record of there captured and escaped synths and there every move. Just on a terminal for anyone that can get their hands on it. They didn’t know she was going to escape with a few others, but she overheard a few idiots talking about it and so she found her file and deleted it so that when she’s back home, they won’t have a clue where she was. LV-32. Gone. It was a stupidly complicated yet simple plan with a lot of waiting. At least someone helped her. The Railroad. 

Stella always heard about The Railroad even before she found out about being LV-32. She knew someone in The Institue was dancing with them. She owed a little bit of her freedom because of them.

Stella had no clue who was apart of there secret cool kids club, or anyone from Endcliff. When she got back from here escape, a new resident, Athena, moved in. Stella always thought she was odd, but she respected it. They talked every now and again when she went to Cosom’s. She ended up working costumes and was a fantastic seamstress. She could make anything you ever wanted to wear, amazing for any production Cosmos would put on. Athena would always ask Stella questions, not invasive questions if Stella had any, she was a pretty open person after all (besides her synth nature to outsiders)

Stella and Athena bonded a month after everything. Cosmo wanted to put on a production of a play he worked on called Poison of Creature he wrote with the help of Lucas. Stella played Noble, a woman who was a witch. Athena did all her costumes and hung out a lot backstage with Stella. It was no Lucas or Joanna to the level of trust and closeness, but she was glad she made a new friend. 

It wasn’t until closing night she got a chance to meet… Deacon… and Glory and Tinker Tom. Athena invited some “friends” from her old settlement to watch the play and come to the little after party back at Cosmos’ place. Stella hit it off with Athena’s friends and well… months later told her everything or enough that Dez wouldn’t skin any of them alive. Just like the Brotherhood, she didn’t join them, but she did befriend them.

Stella was kicked off out of her through as she heard her radio coming on, someone was trying to contact her. It was probably Haylen again.

“Haylen? Is that you?” She spoke, leaning into the mic.

“No. This is Paladin Danse. Scribe Haylen is on a mission, she’ll be back in a few hours… I… I hope you don’t mind, but I wanted to speak to you… if you have time, that is,” Danse voice was husky and Stella couldn’t help but swoon. She was so happy to hear from him again.

“I always have time for you and your team, Paladin,” Stella spoke with professionalism.

“Please, call me Danse… I just wanted to properly thank you for helping us. It has been a stressful time and I would have left for the Prywen by now but I have to stay with my time to make sure they are good. I’m happy Haylen has continued to keep in contact with you,” Danse said, honestly.

“I’m glad to help out… sometimes we forget to help others… speaking of which, I’m making you something as a thank you, will you be at the police station in a week?” Stella asked. Danse chuckled, you could hear him blushing.

“I’m supposed to go back to the Prydwen in a few days, but I can always tell the Elder I need more time… that’s very thoughtful of you, soldier…” He paused as Stella smiled. Oh boy, she could feel that crush feeling crawling in. Not in this climate! “I’m glad you picked up, I wasn’t sure who or what I’d be talking to with Haylen’s radio,”  Danse chuckled.

“I’m glad you contacted me. I have a million things I should do, but no inspiration is hitting me at the moment,” Stella admitted as she looked at the empty page of her play and the loose screws of her gun. Ugh, creation block.

“Inspiration for what?” Danse asked.

“I’m writing a play and modding something special… usually, I’ll have the first scene of my play done and the rest just come naturally, but… I think I can’t get my mind off of what happened. I can’t write about our loses or my adventures ether. It’s been the plot of my last 3 plays. Love? Murder? Synthetic lies?! Ah, sorry for rambling…” Stella stumbled over her words as she thought of another generic plot point.

“You’re a writer? We don’t have many of those nowadays. I always wanted to go to a play, but I’m always busy for the Brotherhood. Maybe write something that could have happened before the war… Baseball or country music. Simple. Peaceful…” It was clear that Danse, too was trailing off, but Stella listened to him carefully. She didn’t know a lot about things from before the war. She only knew of this life.

“You’re more than welcome to come to Endcliff, we usually have productions of plays that our friend Cosmos puts on. Sometimes it’s someone else. He’s currently running around like a madman, putting up a rusty set. And yes, I’m more of an artist, you could say. I paint and dance and sometimes I bang on tables! Damnit that sounded… sexual, ah… you know what I mean,” Stella laughed, completely making herself sound like a fool. Danse laughed at her, enjoying the conversation they were having.

“I’ll try to find a way to Endcliff, and I think I have an idea of what you mean. I heard stories of Endcliff, it sounds like such a strange place, the Brotherhood could make use of such a place,” Danse replied.

“I’d hope you’re not planning on raiding us… you’re making me nervous, Paladin,” Stella joked. “And yea, Endcliff is about education and art. A lot of settlers and traders and people of all walks of life come here, some live here. Mayor Kinnojo kept it safe and the same since his father passed away. We don’t keep people out, but you do have to pass security and Benji takes his job seriously… expect for the raider ambush… poor Benji is still trying to hold himself together… Anyways, hows Brotherhood life? And don’t worry I’m not trying to get you to tell me all your secrets,” Stella laughed.

“The Brotherhood is an honor to be in. I’ve works hours with my brother and sisters, saw many good soldiers come and go. My whole life is dedicated to the Brotherhood… but you can say it’s more than that,” Danse let out a comforting sigh. “Have you considered joining the Brotherhood? After taking care of yourself, you seem to be what the Brotherhood is looking for,” Danse asked. Stella thought about it for a moment. 

“I ride solo, only really ride with Lucas and Joanna and for the people in Endcliff. It’s funny, back in the Capital Wasteland, I was around with a lot of Brotherhood soldiers but never would want to become one myself. I’d rather just do things my way, help people I want to help. I’m unsure why people always ask me to join their clubs… I mean, it’s nice that people think I’m good enough for them, but… it’s all bullshit,” Stella spoke with honesty. Maybe she should join one of those ‘clubs’. “I traveled with many people before I meet Joanna and Lucas, I was working with a raider gang, fixing their guns at one point. Hated every second of that gig… And of course the kids at Little Lamplight and the soldiers at Galaxy News Radio… but none of it felt like me. Yea, sure it gets lonely as hell when all you do is run with two people or even by yourself, but at those times I remember why I do it. To find clarity,” Stella looked at the blank page in her typewriter. “I suck… sorry for my life story… I really need to take it easy on the Nuka Cola,” Stella awkwardly laughed.

“It’s okay, soldier. I understand. I hope you change your mind and join us down the line,” Danse stated. If only he knew what she was… “I’m sorry to cut it short, but I have to go, Haylen and the team is back. I hope to see you soon,” With that and two goodbyes, the channel on her radio lost signal. She looked at her Pip-Boy. It was now midnight.

Stella got up and put on her coat. She wanted to go to Vista’s for a drink and some fucking food.

Usually, sitting at a bar, by yourself at midnight would be pretty fucking sad, but it’s Vista’s and tonight Kamilia was working. Stella sipped her whiskey as she listened to Liza Bush do her set. For such a popular hot spot for drunken mistakes, it was pretty fucking quiet tonight.

“Come here often?” Stella heard a recognizable voice next to her as she shifted her body. She prayed it wasn’t Danny… she would hate herself if it was… She took a sip as she looked to her left to see Deacon. She smiled and rolled her eyes as Deacon moved to sit next to her.

“Yes, all the time… What brings you back to Endcliff? Forget a disguise of ‘Pretentious Art Snob?’” Stella asked, making Deacon laugh.

“That would be such a good disguise for a place like this… but no… I came here to talk to you,” Deacon had some seriousness in his voice as Stella tilted her head in concern. 

“Deacon is everything okay?” Stella asked.

“Yes… and well… no. Remember that man who was with me last time I visited Athena? F8-L9 or Gray we called him?” Deacon asked, catching Stella’s mind up.

“Oh yes! He had a passion for the arts, a perfect fit for Endcliff. Is everything alright with him?” Stella asked.

“He was supposed to be here with me so he could get a residentship here after speaking with Mayor Kinnojo, but Glory said he went all cuckoo and fleed to Goodnaighbor for a memory wipe, I’m afraid the Institute is after him and he just had a memory wipe before his visit,” Deacon explained the situation. Stella took another sip of her drink.

“That sounds like a hard deal… two memory wipes in that short amount of time can be dangerous and afar from the Institue goes, you guys always got that part covered,” Stella stated.

“You’re going to hate me, but we need your help,” Deacon spoke. Stella raised her eyebrows.

“Why me? I’m not even an agent,” Stella reminded Deacon.

“Because what I’ve gathered, Gray really likes you and your art and maybe you could tell him something that could convince him. We don’t have to leave until tomorrow evening… Please, you owe us this much. And besides, don’t you miss traveling with this face?” Deacon asked as he batted his eyelashes, but of course, couldn’t see with him wearing sunglassed in a dim bar.

“Fine, but we’re going to Cambridge Police Station, I have to give a Paladin something for helping me,” Stella explained.

“Okay, deal… Thank you, Stella,” Deacon smiled as he got up and left. What happened with running alone?

Authors Note; This has been really fun writing and I have a whole plot for this story. Don’t worry, I won’t flood your timelines with only this story, I’ll post other junk too. Hope you enjoyed and my asks are open for anything x

[deityofforsakenfates]

Fallout OC interview (My first fallout 4 character)

1. What is your name?

“Alice Everett, but you’ll call me Queen if you know what's good for you.”

2. How old are you? “30.”

3. What do you look like? “shaved head on the side, long red hair on the top. I'm pretty built and average height.”

4. Where are you from? Where do you live now? “From Vegas, the first one. been to New Vegas since love the atmosphere hate the military that hangs around. the Silver Rush had this robot though.....anyway what was the question? ”

5. What was your childhood like? “Shit, what do you think? you don't come from white picket fences and how was your day honey and end up a blood-soaked killer”

6. What groups are you friendly with? Are you allied with any factions? “Operators and Disciples know their place if that counts.  Mr. House, maybe he did like what I could do with a fission battery and his power module. The institute I guess, don’t talk with them much being their leader was boring as hell.”

7. Tell me about your best friend. "Only one I can really trust. Keeps my bed warm and knows what love means, no one could replace him. isn't that right Dogmeat?”

“Bork Bark”

8. Do you have a family? Tell me about them! “Husbands dead, Sons dead, anyone else ever knew or loved was atomized when the bombs dropped. Next question.”

9. What about a partner or partners? “I’ll occasionally get with Nisha. That is more of a physical thing though. don’t know how something serious would work out these days. Maybe one day.”

10. Who are your enemies? And why? Preston Garvey. He and his Minutemen love to take shots at the men I send out their way. Pretty much anyone, to be honest, raiders don't make many friends.

11. Have you ever heard of the Brotherhood of Steel? What do you think about them? "Brotherhood are raiders with better equipment. Just like the Gunners, they parade around with their rules, regulations, and uniforms. they're just as bad as us maybe worse at least we’re honest ”

12. What about The Enclave? “Who?.”

13. How do you feel about Super Mutants? “A pain in the ass mostly, they are dumb as rocks yet think they're the next step in evolution.”

14. What’s the craziest fight you ever been in? “I’ve been in a lot of fights, a lot of them worthy of retelling but it has to be that damned Hallucigen building. Whatever gas they cooked up is worse than any chem trip. I know the Gunners were there but once that shit hit my system i saw ghouls, mole rats, family, friends, nightmares... I shot until I didn't have any more rounds. I cut through anything else with my knife. Normally being covered in blood and gore doesn't bother me but that..that is a feeling I never want to feel again.

15. Have you ever fought a deathclaw?

“Plenty they’re the wastelands apex predator, hinting them really gets me going. Gatorclaws, on the other hand, I can’t stand they hide in the water just waiting like lazy Brahmin for prey to walk by. Deplorable.  ”

16. Do you like fighting? “Oh, I love it there is nothing better! The feeling of power and fear mixed together is unlike anything else.”

17. What’s your weapon of choice? “a sharp knife is always good, but the feeling of an automatic Handmade. The sound, the vibration, the way it rains lead. unbeatable. ”

18. How do you survive? Your wits, your charm, your skills, brute force, some combination? (a.k.a. what’s your S.P.E.C.I.A.L?) “Skills mostly, I was a Surgeon before the war. Once I entered the wasteland it all slowly came to me. Learning how to survive was actually a lot like med school now that I think about it. struggle, pain, and in the end a vast amount of knowledge that can save a life or end one. ”

19. Have you ever been in a vault? What do you think of them? “I've been in enough to know they're sadistic death traps. don't get me wrong I kill people for fun but Vault-tec chose to experiment on people before the world went to shit.”

20. How do you beat all the radiation around here? Has it affected you? “I have easy access to Radaway but a few years back I got exposed pretty bad during a rad storm and had to take cover in a cave full of this fungus that glows in the dark. I didn't know that they radiated radiation too ate a few out of desperation and all that radiation mutated my optical nerves, I can see in the dark now. cool huh?”

21. What’s your favorite wasteland critter? “Radscorpions, their vicious nature and lack of fear is so badass. Plus they’re really cute!”

22. What’s your least favorite wasteland critter? “Bloodworms. End of story, it is just the way they wiggle. Makes me gag just thinking about them. I send men to take out their nests regularly.”

23. How do you feel about robots? “They have their uses but I don't find them very reliable in the field. The only ones I really care to use are those Assaultrons. ”

24. How many caps do you have on you right now? "uh I think I have around a thousand but I have a ton more around the place.”

25. Nuka Cola or Sunset Sarsaparilla? “I run Nuka-World I think my choice is obvious. Sunset is just gross how anyone drinks it is beyond me.

26. Do you do chems?

“Pycho/Med-x on occasion but only when I think the fight is going to be difficult. They get in the way in most situations.”

27. Do you ever think about the Pre-War world? “Some nights ill think about it. About Nate, about my family, the world before but its gone and nothing can change that. I like who I am now I know that the world can’t be saved and people are not worth charity. ”

28. What’s your biggest regret? What would you do differently? “God that's a long list. Despite what you may think its really simple. Going into that damn lounger thing in Goodneighbor, reliving my husband's death and the theft of my son all over again and have someone else see it firsthand along with me was the worst. I'm glad Kellog died slow.”

29. What’s your biggest achievement? Or what do you hope to achieve? “Honestly I want to love someone again....”

30. What do you want for the future? For yourself? Your friends? The world? “Get richer, maybe retire old but if that doesn't work die for something worthwhile.”

Tagged by @baphometprince​ (thank you, sorry for the way late reply it has been a hectic few weeks.)

Tagging @illumimommy​ and anyone else who actually read through and wanna do it.

[wilddragonflying]

Fallout OC Interview

Stolen from @red-flare-art :p

Rules:

1) Choose an OC

I’m gonna do Kaili, because I love her, and I’m also going to do Anna’s responses as well, because she’s the newest one!

2) Answer questions as that OC

3) Tag 5 people to do the same

Er... I don’t know 5 people in the Fallout universe soooooo..... If you see this and you want to do it, consider yourself tagged!

1) What is your name? 

K: My name is Kaili Swesson; pleasure to meet you!

A: Name’s Anna Levine.

2) How old are you? 

K: Well, I was born on February 29, 2032, and it’s now almost October of 2289... So around two hundred and fifty-seven! Of course, I was cryogenically frozen from October 23, 2077 to October of 2287, so technically I’ve only lived for forty-seven years.

A: Old enough to know better than to ask people their age, Jesus.

3) What do you look like?

K: Oh, I’d say I’m a little taller than average, lean. Black hair, usually keep it in a bun... I do have some pretty distinctive scars. Mirelurk Queen acid is pretty damn painful. And I had an... exciting military career, Pre-War.

A: I look like one of those things that regularly tries to eat people, just with a bit more sanity in my eyes. I’m a fucking ghoul, the hell do you expect me to look like?

4) Where are you from? Where do you live now? 

K: I was born in Boston, actually! I split my time now between Goodneighbor, Nuka-Town, and Sanctuary Hills, though, as far as ‘home’ goes. Generally I’m out wandering the Commonwealth, doing my General duties.

A: Some no-name town in California. Ended up in the Mojave area long before it was a nuclear wasteland. I’m a Courier now, so I don’t really call any place ‘home.’

5) What was your childhood like?

K: Oh, quiet enough. I had a few friends - Meg, actually, is a ghoul now! It was so shocking to find out she survived, especially living in the Glowing Sea as she did.

A: I spent more time with technology than people. Stayed true through my adult life, too. Not much has changed. 

6) What groups are you friendly with? Are you allied with any factions?

K: I’m the General of the Minutemen, so I’d say that I’m pretty allied with them! The Railroad and I get along well, and the Brotherhood of Steel and I... Eh. Maxson and I have, ah. Discussed things. We came to an understanding.

A: Only alliance I have is with the guy who used to be my boss, is now a decrepit living corpse tucked away in an old casino. NCR and I are on friendly enough terms, I suppose, but we don’t do anything but business. I don’t trust anyone from any of the Strip families as far as I can trust them, though.

7) Tell me about your best friend. 

K: Oh, that’s tough. My best friend growing up was Meg, absolutely. Always had a weird thing for technology, smart head on her shoulders! Nate and I... we were basically platonic soulmates, honestly. Only people we could trust after we mustered out was each other, so we ended up tying the knot. Now... Well, I’m friends with Gage, Hancock, and Preston, obviously. And Piper, Strong, Nick, Cait, and Curie. Deacon and I are as friendly as two people can be when one’s a pathological liar. I honestly couldn’t say who I would consider my best friend!

A: My best friend? Shes hanging on my back right now. She’s the ah.... silent-but-deadly type, if you catch my meaning. Her and the other friend strapped to my thigh, they both are. As far as living friends go, Veronica’s like a daughter to me, and Arcade and I get along well enough. Boone is my kind of guy, though. Like him a lot. We understand each other.

8) Do you have a family? Tell me about them!

K: Well, there’s Nate - he died, protecting Shaun. Shaun himself grew up to be a dick, so I don’t much like talking about him. Right now, all the folks I listed above, they’re the ones I consider family, honestly. I love them.

A: I... Don’t have a family now. Had one, back before the bombs dropped. Only recently got closure on what happened to her.

9) What about a partner or partners?

K: Oh, well. That’s a bit of an involved story? Preston, Hancock, and I, we’re all together. But while I was taking care of Nuka-World and the Raiders that inhabited it, I ended up falling for Gage, my right-hand man, and he fell for me. Things were complicated for a bit, but we eventually sorted them out. He doesn’t feel the same for Hancock or Preston as I do, though. 

A: Cassidy and I got drunk together once, woke up naked in the Lucky 38 penthouse’s master suite together. We’re still friends, but I wouldn’t call us ‘partners.’ I guess closest I’ve got to that is Boone. Nothing’s happened there, don’t know if it ever will, but. Like I said before, we understand each other in a way no one else can. 

10) Who are your enemies, and why?

K: Oh, definitely the Institute, considering that I blew it up. Raiders and Super Mutants, too, obviously. Anything and any one that poses a threat to any settlement or settlers in the Commonwealth, really. 

A: Anyone who wakes me up before sunrise. Also Dean Domino, carried a grudge against that prick for two hundred years, finally got to take his ass out.

11) Have you ever heard of The Brotherhood of Steel? What do you think about them? 

K: Yes, I have. I think that they could do an awful lot of good for the Commonwealth if they weren’t a huge bunch of racist, species-st, elitist dickbags. They learn to play nice with others and pull that giant stick out of their ass about technology, maybe we’ll get along better someday.

A: Heard of ‘em. Traveled with a couple of ‘em. I think they’re okay, depending on who’s in charge. Barely managed to talk Rob out of destroying their bunker, waiting for a chance to collect on that favor.

12) What about The Enclave? 

K: I think they’re delusional, honestly. It’s been two hundred years. There’s no going back now, if there ever was. All we can do now is move forward, build anew.

A: Fuckin’ nuts, the lot of them. The fuck they think they’re gonna be able to do with the way tech is right now? The way the people have gotten used to the wasteland working?   

13) How do you feel about Super Mutants? 

K: I have... mixed feelings about Super Mutants. Mostly, they’re annoying, but easy enough to deal with when you’re as good with a rifle and shadows as me. But the suiciders? I’ve got... issues with them.

A: The lot up at Jacobstown is nice enough, and long as they don’t go making trouble, I don’t much care about them. Start making trouble, though, and I’ll be more than happy to drag Boone out and help take care of the problem. 

14) What’s the craziest fight you’ve ever been in?

K: Well, I don’t exactly get into fights anymore, honestly. Not since my last Hostage Retrieval mission, back in the Pre-War days. Taking back the Castle with an albino matriarch Deathclaw was pretty crazy, though. Oh! One time, I sniped a raider on top of a skyscraper in the Financial District while I was on another skyscraper, and his body went cartwheeling through the air! That was pretty funny.

A: Hm. Well, board meetings back in the day used to be fucking insane, verbal fights to get funding, almost literal fistfights to keep another department from getting the funding mine needed. Nowadays... Big Empty had some weird shit in it.

15) Have you ever fought a Deathclaw?

K: As Sturges likes to say, I still had frost in my hair when I fought my first one! I tend to avoid them now, though, and they’re happy enough to avoid me. Except for Pipsqueak and Larry, but they’re special cases. Did you know that Deathclaws imprint? Like big scaly ducklings!

A: Ugh, yes. Can’t live in the Wastelands for two hundred years without fighting at least a dozen. Luckily the shitheads can’t climb, or it’d be a lot harder to fight them.

16) Do you like fighting? 

K: I like sniping, taking out enemies without being seen myself. I don’t like hand-to-hand combat, though. I’d rather use Deliverer or a knife in close quarters, like in a building.

A: You don’t get to live this long without fighting, so it don’t really matter whether or not I like it. I’ll tell you what I do like, though: Outsmarting my opponents. 

17) What’s your weapon of choice?

K: Tinker Tom built me a special rifle; I modded it a little to make the scope better, let it take more powerful ammo, but I love that rifle. Deliverer is great, too, and so is the blade Pickman gave me for not killing him. The guy was killing raiders, and I check up on him every so often, make sure he hasn’t moved on to settlers.

A: Silenced rifle or a blade. Best damn weapons for stealth you can have, and let me tell you: The Courier who moves quickest and quietest is the one who gets the package delivered.

18) How do you survive? Your wits, your charm, your skills, brute force, some combination? (a.k.a. what’s your S.P.E.C.I.A.L?) 

K: I’m quick, quiet, and I can shoot the wings off a fly. I’m also good at talking, though usually I’m just talking sense. Unfortunately, that seems to have been lacking in the past couple of centuries.

A: Oh, I’m a talker - if you manage to see me, that is. I climbed my way up to Rob’s right hand woman, his head of R&D, you don’t get there without your mouth being able to back up your ideas.  

19) Have you ever been in a vault? What do you think about them?

K: I fucking hate Vaults, I hate Vault-Tec, and if I ever meet someone who managed to survive who authorized any of those damned experiments, I’m shooting first and asking questions never. Vault-Tec preyed on innocent people, people who were looking for safety. I hope they all burned in nuclear fire.

A: RobCo got some pretty good contracts out of them, but... Well, I can’t condemn their experiments without also condemning myself. Be pretty hypocritical of me, considering I designed a lot of the tech that went into those Vaults. Nice to see it held up after 200years, though. Better than anyone else’s except WesTek and their Power Armor.

20) How do you beat all the radiation around here? Has it affected you?

K: Rad-X, RadAway, keeping an ear on my Pip-Boy’s geiger counter, and occasionally a suit of Power Armor or a hazmat suit if I can’t avoid the radiation.

A: Darling, no offense, but what the fuck kind of question is that? You got eyes, ain’t you? I’m a goddamned ghoul, that’s how it fucking affected me, and that’s how I beat the radiation, now. I still try to avoid it because I’d like not to lose any more of my sanity than necessary, but by and large, it’s not a problem I have to worry about anymore. 

21) What’s your favorite wasteland critter?

K: Pipsqueak, definitely. And Larry, Pipsqueak’s son. They’re the only Deathclaws that haven’t tried to kill me, but only because they imprinted on me and treat everyone at Sanctuary like family, now. Dogmeat’s cute, too; first friend I made out in the Commonwealth.

A: Rex is an absolute gem and anyone who touches him will answer to me. I also like Nightstalkers; I can admire something that can move as quietly as they can, even if they are a pain in the ass.

22) What’s your least favorite wasteland critter? 

K: It’s honestly a tie between Radscorpions and Yao Guai. 

A: Cazadors, the fuck kind of question is that? No one in the Mojave likes those overgrown wasps. 

23) How do you feel about robots?

K: Well, one of my best friends is a synth, Codsworth is a Mister Handy, Curie used to be a Miss Nanny but now she’s got a synth body... I like them. Long as they aren’t trying to kill me.

A: I like them, and they’ve got no choice but to like me. Bow down before the mind that created you, and all that. 

24) How many caps do you have on you right now?

K: Um. A lot? I don’t know, I tend to do more bartering with goods than with caps.

A: Enough to get by.

25) Nuka Cola or Sunset Sarsaparilla? 

K: Nuka Cola, definitely.

A: Sunset Sarsaparilla; you get tired of Nuka Cola after two hundred years with little else to drink.

26) Do you do chems? 

K: Medical only.

A: Nah, not really. The occasional stimpak if something catches me off-guard, but other than that, I stay away from them except for bartering with them.  

27) Do you ever think about the Pre-War world? 

K: A lot. I grew up in this area, you know? It’s hard to walk around what’s here now and not compare it to the world I used to live in.

A: Sometimes, usually when I’m cursing out a broken terminal, wishing I had the tools I had back when I was head of R&D. Otherwise, I tend not to think about it too much. Why dwell on the past?  

28) What’s your deepest regret? What would you do differently? 

K: Hm, that’s tough. I don’t - You learned quick in the military that you can’t have regrets, because they’ll eat you alive. I suppose the only thing I would do differently is maybe try harder to find a way to reconcile the Institute with the Commonwealth, see if I could find a way to use their technology for good.

A: That I didn’t go looking for the Sierra Madre sooner. Maybe if I’d gone there right after the War... But that’s two hundred years ago. No use dwelling in the past, like I said. 

29) What’s your biggest achievement? Or what do you hope to achieve?

K: Even though it’s my deepest regret, taking down the Institute. As much as I wish I could have found a way to reconcile the Institute and the Commonwealth, they were a threat. A big one. With them gone, the Commonwealth is a lot safer. 

A: Kicking the NCR’s sorry ass out of the Mojave, honestly. The look on that general’s face when I faced him down with half a dozen upgraded Securitrons after having kicked the Legion right off the Dam? Priceless.

30) What do you want for the future? For yourself? Your friends? The world? 

K: I want to make Nuka-Town into an even larger trading hub, start establishing lines of trade and communication with the rest of the continent. I want to push us further towards rebuilding, because we’ve survived for two hundred years - now, it’s time to live. Maybe one day I’ll hand over the reins, but for now, that’s what I want to do.

A: I... honestly haven’t thought a lot about it? For years, I was focused on surviving, then finding out what happened to Vera... And then I got swept up in Rob’s plans for New Vegas. I never looked any further than this, you know? So. I honestly don’t know what’s next. Maybe it’s heading into the Divide, finally seeing if I can’t meet up with this other Courier, the one I’ve been tracking and who’s been tracking me for months, maybe even years now. 

[purkinje-effect]

The Purkinje Effect, 34

Table of Contents

“Christ, Geek, you’ve got thrill issues.” Hancock stared down the hole at him. “I’m not afraid of heights. There’s jumping down from someplace, and there’s falling. This is definitely falling.”

“Great, now we have to see this to completion,” ‘Choly moaned. “Angel’s hydraulic thrusters can’t handle that sudden a drop. Not that it matters since I’m not about to leave it behind, but I’m not so good for climbing.”

“I wouldn’t trust me to catch you, either,” Geek snipped with a shit-eating grin. “Guess you’re just gonna hafta double back to that first door an’ see if y’can’t put y’brains together t’break it open.”

“Aren’t you two floors under us?” Hancock continued, increasingly mad that Geek had forcibly divorced himself from the group in such a way, increasingly stressed that the vault was more labyrinthine than any of them had anticipated, and increasingly convinced this was Geek’s way of seizing some kind of control over the situation. “Something tells me there’s a good chance it doesn’t lead anywhere.”

“Well, for your sake and mine, you’d better hope it does. I’ll be fine. I did all kinda a repair work on the maintenance tunnels in 82. I can find my way around without gettin’ caught. Goin’ it alone for now, swear I’ll play it stealthy. Oh hey, there’s another terminal down here.”

“Somethin’ tells me ‘Geek’ and ‘stealth’ don’t belong in the same sentence,” ‘Choly quipped, wanting to wait around to hear what the terminal had to offer.

“Tell me about it,” Hancock agreed, starting into a cigarette and pacing.

Geek shrugged it off, and opened a confidential file paradoxically left unprotected by password. In it summarized the scope of the resident interview process, as it pertained to Vault 114′s planned social experiment. Great. He rolled his eye. Never gonna find a vault that didn’t use the folks for guinea pigs.

“Wow,” he narrated up the shaft aloud. “It wasn’t just Todd Gates. Everybody slotted t’live here was cherrypicked from the rich, the political, and the famous. This one ran an experiment on its people like all the others, but this one was psychological. They sold these rich snobs first class, but would’a sardined ‘em into coach. An’ their original Overseer was supposed to have as little leadership experience as possible, with as strong a hate for authority as possible.”

The chemist bounced his eyebrows once, deadpan.

“So you’re saying that there’s no way to predict just how poorly adjusted these residents’ descendants are.”

“Sounds like the whole tin can could’a used a lifetime supply of Jet, provided the experiment ever got off the ground,” Hancock joked. “From what I understand, though, the only thing we’ve gotta worry about is a mob of Triggermen. They’re bad enough, but also just about as predictable as it gets.”

“What do you mean, ‘from what you understand’? You know about this vault?” ‘Choly glared at the delinquent ghoul, getting to his limit with the situation himself.

“Then it wasn’t weird, that the admissions list didn’t confirm intake of any of the residents. Y’telling us the Vault never opened for use.” Geek stalled in place, everything clicking in that moment, and he slowly picked his head up to glare up in a near-rage at Hancock, who immediately shied from the top of the shaft to pace away from the pink ghoul’s line of sight. “Vault 114. You told me about this place back at the Vault-Tec office. Just how drunk was I that day, not to put it all together until now? You knew. You knew what’s down here. You’re bein’ clean cut straightforward with the two of us right. Now. We deserve it.”

“I’m starting to think both you and Bobbi had the same bad habits.” ‘Choly sniffed with a dismissive sneer. “Come on, Bobbi. Out with it. What were you two doing at a Vault-Tec office?”

“I--” Hancock flustered at the comparison and pursed his cigarette in his lips to shove his hands in his jean pockets stiffly, eyes wide. “I’d hoped you’d catch my drift a lot sooner, is all. I haven’t been lying, just... misleading. Didn’t think I’d have to spell it all out, to be fair. Don’t be too hard on yourself for not rememberin’ everything from the Vault-Tec office, Geek. It was a lot of information to take in at once. Really, I only know what Nick’s told me. It’s not like I had a key inside before now. He and Skinny have history. I think he just finally got unlucky enough to get on Skinny’s bad side.”

“...Hey, nerd.” Geek ate his cigarette filter while he eyed the stuff in the room he’d jumped down into. “That wristwatch keep good time?”

“It’s eighteenth hour,” ‘Choly replied, convinced their entourage had failed.

“Oh, good. We’re in sync.” He dropped his Pip-Boy arm to his side again. “I don’t know how your vault was set up, but I know in my gut that door at the start’s gotta be the main entrance. Gimme two hours with y’all tryin’ t’get it open quiet-like before you go an’ do anything louder, yeah?”

“We’ll give you one,” Hancock insisted, hating the idea of leaving him on his own that long.

“Ideally, we’ll get in easily,” ‘Choly agreed. “If we get in before you get out, meet us in the Overseer’s office. If there is one. Okay?”

“Into the labyrinth.” He blew Hancock a kiss and traversed deeper, down a hall, and through a pocket door around the corner.

Geek found a box of Abraxo Powder on the ground near some lockers, and he picked it up to absently crack open the corner with a jammed-in thumb. Hancock’s juryrigged fence-muzzle thwarted the attempt to pour some in his mouth and he growled to himself as the soap went everywhere but. With a huffed grunt, he tucked the box open-end-up into his jumpsuit next to his heart and zipped back up.

A glance out the window in the wall showed the first real fixture of a true vault which anyone encountered upon entry: the Atrium, a large open social area with a ceiling at least two stories high. Cafeteria bench tables and unpacked shipping crates littered the floor space at the bottom, and a balcony ran the full perimeter of the second floor. He nearly wondered if he were down here all alone after all, but overheard a one-sided conversation taking place. The pink ghoul crept around the corner hall and out onto the second story balcony, and eavesdropped on a man on the third story balcony, arguing with someone behind a porthole. That has to be the Overseer’s office. Slowly, he crept up the stairs.

“--Feelin’ hungry? Wanna snack?” The Triggerman in a black trilby jeered. The response sobered him, and he sneered. “Don’t gimme that crap, Valentine. You know nothin’, you got nothin’.” Another pause hushed him. “Three strikes...? In the black book...? But I never-- Ohh no. I gotta smooth this out, an’ fast!”

The Triggerman bolted for the stairs, and Geek reflexively jutted his foot out to trip him. With him face-down, Geek grabbed him by a fistful of hair and from behind slashed his throat with Cronus, then tossed down the body and stood back up. From inside the locked office, the sound of a brassy, gruff Chicago accent cut off the pink ghoul’s relieved sigh.

“Hey, you. I don’t know who you are, but we got three minutes before they realize muscles-for-brains ain’t comin’ back. Get this door open.”

He peered through the porthole, to find very little light and the silhouette of a figure in a trenchcoat and fedora. The terminal beside the locked door required a password, and he didn’t trust his luck. Looking for a holotape key, he patted down the Triggerman who’d kept watch on their captive, and snapped his fingers in success before returning to the terminal with it to instruct the computer to disengage the lock. The vertical pocket door slid up and down in two pieces, and Geek stood there a moment taking in the presence of the person he was bailing out. The detective lit a cigarette, but the smell didn’t mask the familiar lubricants and coolants which belied a human silhouette. He stared into the synth’s glowing golden eyes.

“Gotta love the irony of the reverse damsel-in-distress scenario,” the detective quipped wryly. “Question is, why did our hero risk his life and limb for an old private eye?”

“Call... it a favor for a friend.” Geek consciously endeavored to steady his breathing, and he’d already begun to salivate. Damn my luck, that I found him before Hancock and ‘Choly did. Feeling like some kind of feral animal, he squirmed that he could only stare at the exposed armature of the detective’s right hand as it drew the cigarette up to his lips to take another hit. He swallowed his own cigarette butt and shuddered, unable to determine whether nicotine did a thing for a construct that didn’t even have lungs. Let alone that a good bit of the smoke escaped through a gap in the cheek flesh. “Y-- y’not like that other synths I’ve met.”

“One of a kind, he shined with a wink. “The name’s Nick Valentine. To whom do I owe the pleasure of my freedom?”

“I’m the Geek,” he blurted out. “An’ a certain mayor led me, another guy, and the guy’s robot down here under the hunch we’d find you here.”

“Look, I know the skin and the metal parts ain’t comforting, but it’s not important right now.” Out of jaded habit, Valentine tried to distract Geek from the jarring artificial appearance of his weathered, damaged shell leaving swaths of his armature exposed throughout the left side of his face and all down his neck. “I’ve been cooped up in here for weeks. Only so many times a body can listen to the same three holotape interviews. ...Turns out the runaway daughter I came here to find wasn’t kidnapped. She’s Skinny Malone’s new flame, and she’s got a mean streak. Like I said, though, now ain’t the time. Let’s blow this joint. Then we’ll talk.”

“G-- g-- good idea. Nnnowait. I. I. I need t’do somethin’ first.” Shakily, Geek sat at the C-shaped Overseer’s desk and browsed the terminal for a moment. He pocketed the three aforementioned holotapes from the desktop, and stood right back up in frustration. “Damn, it’s just a welcome note for the Overseer. Dunno what I expected. Damn vault never opened for residence.”

“Well that certainly explains why Skinny didn’t have to clear out the previous tenants. An empty vault. Perfect hideout.”

“When they locked you in here, they patted you down, didn’t they?” Geek asked on the way out.

“Unfortunately,” Nick replied. “Hopefully you can keep it hot enough for the both of us.”

“Well, if you’re good with a gun.” Geek handed over a box of .44 bullets and his bull barrel pistol with a sly boredom. “I negotiate with my fists, personally.”

“A pleasant surprise. Appreciate the insurance.”

“Don’t sweat it,” the ghoul grinned.

Geek let Valentine show the way, and the synth detective cut back the way Geek had come, then continued down to the bottom floor to the Atrium. Shipping crates littered the balcony and the space under the stairs, and were piled high against the Atrium walls. Suddenly, Valentine crouched and whispered,

“How do you want to play this?”

The pair peered at the five Triggermen who’d ambled out to investigate the brief commotion from before. Geek let it speak for him, to don his knuckledusters and slip out to dance. Given the element of surprise, he and Valentine dispatched them with the slightest scuff. While Geek caught his breath, he wandered the area and eyed the labels on the crates. One of them had been marked ‘Vault 111: decompression chamber coolant’ and his head tilted askew at the cryogenics warnings all over it. Three rows down, he stopped dead and stared. ‘Vault 82: hydroponics bay kit.’

“Hard and loud, huh? Well, gets the job done. Too bad for whoever cleans up the floors.”

“--Aw fuck me, Hancock owes me a nuke. I told him they never got to 82, half or all.” Geek popped off the lid and looked inside. He peered at the various parts which would have become elevated gardening trays. “Not that it does any good now.”

“Something tells me you came down here for more than little old me.”

“Guilty. If anything else labeled Vault 82 catches your eye, tell me.”

“So some wires got crossed, and shipments ended up unintended places. Not remotely surprised. In case you hadn’t noticed, construction of this place must have been overseen by the Grandchester family.”

“You’ve been to Nuka World!” Geek’s head whipped up with the childlike wonder of a toddler, and he stared at Nick. “Oh man I haven’t been since I was nine!”

“You don’t say.” Valentine clicked his tongue in affirmative. “I’ll keep my eyes peeled. Vault 82.”

As they continued on through the utility section of the vault, Geek felt very small and very distracted. He decided to pop a holotape into his Pip-Boy to listen to one at random. When Nick gave him the stinkeye, he turned it back off with sorry on his face.

“At least you picked the one interesting narrative among them. Got them all memorized, with them being the only thing to keep me sane locked up in the Overseer’s office. That’s the interview with the individual they selected as the Overseer. Soup Can Harry. Thought taxes paid for Illuminati free mason sex parties. Refused to wear pants. And ate soap explicitly to spite the ‘not for consumption’ label. They really picked a diamond in the rough with that one.”

“Part of the Vault-Tec experiment was to put the most infuriating and unrelenting idiot in charge of the vault. Hate to say I halfway fit the bill, if what you said describes the guy accurately. I could’a run the damn place.”

They passed the Depot and Geek detoured at the smell of more soap. The string of lockers that lined all four walls lay open and mostly empty, barring four boxes of Abraxo spilled around a skeleton which looked like its owner had crawled into the locker to eat to his heart’s content. The pink ghoul took one sealed box, but let the poor soul have the rest.

“You, too, huh?” Geek quipped, melancholy, as he shook the box. “Guess I was wrong about none of the residents ever makin’ it here.”

“Come on,” Nick hushed in agitation. “I just got the door to the stairwell open. It was malfunctioning, but we can keep moving now.”

Past the lavatories and showers, they cut to the stairs, to be met with a variety of directional arrows, which indicated to take the stairs if one so desired the residentials, laundry, cafeteria, nursery, or exit zone they sought. Nick hugged a door frame to shoot a Triggerman who’d been seated with his feet kicked up. Geek ambled up to the body to collect the comic he’d been reading, and his eyes lit up again as he skimmed through it.

“‘The Man Who Could Stop Time!’ Ohh man, this is one of the ones I never got. I used t’have a real big Astoundingly Awesome Tales collection.”

“Heh, it’s all yours, kid.”

They cut through the Residential zone, the layout of which connected rooms in such a way as to provide zero privacy and also house as many heads per room as humanly possible. Just the thought of as many as ten people being forced to live in the same tiny room together made Geek’s skin crawl, but the synth seemed to have his mind too much on escaping undetected to hypothesize how the vault experiment might have played out given the chance. A few Triggermen napped on the bunk beds, and the pair eliminated them easily before any woke to the intrusion.

“More stairs?” Nick scoffed as they took another flight. “Who built this damn vault, a fitness instructor?”

Finally, he got a laugh out of Geek, and the tension cut a bit.

Another hallway with the laundromat and storage closets yielded all manner of loot for Geek, who spent hardly any time or hesitation absconding with anything pocket-sized. He stepped into the cafeteria last, disappointed to find it was little more than a restaurant kitchen with an a la carte window. He turned the cafeteria upside-down when he didn’t find a single paste dispenser, and pocketed all the flatware he could put his hands on. Rejoining an exasperated Valentine, he patted his chests contentedly just to hear the fistfuls of utensils jangling together.

“You sure have deep pockets.”

“Deep pockets, and an appetite that won’t quit.”

“Skinny Malone and the rest of his boys are waiting for us, somewhere. The names, uh, ironic, but don’t let that fool you. He’s dangerous.”

Geek frowned. Surely they wouldn’t be ambushed by dozens of Triggermen.

They hit a dead end with another malfunctioning vertical pocket door. When Valentine announced he’d get it open with little effort, Geek inspected the various Vault-Tec shipping boxes for mailing labels which might have indicated anything further. The pink ghoul didn’t find anything but a pair of royal blue vault suits labeled on the back in large bold gold letters ‘114.’ With an eye roll he stuffed them into his jumpsuit along with the Abraxo, and flattened them down down without crushing the boxes so he could zip up. He started pacing and snacking once he no longer sufficiently felt he could distract himself.

“Okay, got it. But I head a big commotion on the other side and everything went quiet. This door was jammed, not locked, so whoever’s out there might have had the same trouble getting in as we are gettin’ out. Once we step through this door, get ready for anything.” He glanced up to catch Geek slipping table knives through the fence-muzzle gaps to swallow them, and the pink ghoul froze red-handed. “I take it the name’s not ironic.”

“I eat when I’m nervous.”

“Suppose that’s fair.”

“--Did y’say a buncha noise out there then silence?” Geek clenched his teeth. “I really hope that’s not the door I think it is.”

“Only one way to find out.”

[fallout4holmes]

Journal 32

Valentine and Hancock took the opportunity to catch up on each other's respective cities as we walked to Goodneighbor. Danse was silent at first, encased in his armor, but after a while asked, “Holmes, the ghoul - er, Hancock - mentioned you traveled with a super mutant?”

I explained how I met Rex Goodman and Strong. Danse was incredulous. When I went on to explain that Strong was now travelling between Minutemen settlements with a seamstress, he was nearly furious.

“You assigned an unarmed civilian to accompany a delusional abomination?!”

“Of course she’s armed, and Strong isn’t going to eat her, Danse. If he tires of humans, he’ll just leave.”

“You can’t be certain of that! How can you trust a super mutant?”

“He was stationed at the Castle without incident, and then in the western settlements after. He never attacked any human that didn’t attack him first. Hancock and I traveled with him, and I am certain he is blindly dedicated to his quest for the milk of human kindness, which means he can’t go around killing every human he sees.”

“This is insane.”

“It’s not as though I’m opening the gates to any super mutant who wants in. Strong is an exception. He is an… aberration among his kind. He likes Macbeth, for heaven’s sake. He is brutal and barbaric, but not an immediate danger to any human. He has no qualms about fighting his ‘brothers.’”

“Brothers?”

“That’s how he refers to other super mutants.”

“Speakin’ of Strong’s brothers…” Hancock said.

Sure enough, the sound of automatic fire and super mutant shouting could be heard over the blast of a laser rifle in the distance. Danse moved forward, “I’m on point, you three fall in behind and to the sides. Stick to the shadows; I’ll draw fire.”

No one argued, though Hancock cursed when he saw who the super mutants were fighting.

A Brotherhood Scribe tended to a fallen Initiate while a Knight fired upon the mutants across the street. The cavalry came in the form of a vertibird, quickly shot down to crash between skyscrapers, its pilot crawling from the wreckage, miraculously alive for the moment. Danse and I didn’t hesitate, attacking the mutants directly and creating a second front. Valentine made his way toward the pilot, shooting at a mutant hound before it could finish the wounded man. Hancock joined us, firing his shotgun point blank at every mutant he could, leaving a bloody mess in his wake. The Brotherhood Knight continued his attack with deadly accuracy, though I suspect he also wasn’t too concerned with not hitting us as well.

When the last mutant fell and the dust settled, the Knight was less than thrilled to see who had lent a helping hand. “Thanks for the assist… what the hell?”

A panicked cry came from the pilot. Valentine was on a knee beside him, his hands up in an attempt to be non-threatening. “Easy friend. I know the face ain’t comforting, but I promise I’m only trying to help. You’re in bad shape.”

The Knight stormed toward him, “Get away, you abomination.”

“Well, good afternoon to you, too,” Valentine stood slowly. “He’s bleeding out and both his legs are broken. You gonna let me give him a stimpak or leave him to suffer?”

“We don’t need help from freaks,” the Knight said, turning to encompass Hancock in the insult.

“Watch your mouth, friend,” Hancock snarled, “it's getting you in trouble.”

Danse knelt by the pilot, to everyone’s surprise. Valentine handed him the stimpak, which Danse promptly used to stop the man’s bleeding. “Does your Scribe require assistance,” he asked in a quick monotone.

“He’s keeping Initiate Nelson alive,” said the Knight.

“That isn’t what I asked.”

“Unless you’re a doctor, there’s nothing else you can do here.” The Knight surveyed the soldier before him as Danse stood up. “Didn't think Minutemen use armor.”

“I prefer it. The General approved.”

I stood beside Danse, “Indeed, why shouldn't any Minuteman who can salvage a suit put it to good use?”

The Knight looked at me. “Strange coincidence, an armored soldier joining the Minutemen after the synth you were supposed to kill is conveniently disintegrated.”

“Are you suggesting that Elder Maxson is a fool, or a liar?”

“Ooh,” Hancock chuckled from his position behind us, “dissension in the ranks.”

The Knight was unamused, “He doesn't have to be a fool to be fooled. It's no secret he and the traitor were close. If a devious false brother planted the evidence he wanted to see, he might not look as closely at the lie as he would any other time.”

“Awful lot of ‘ifs',” Valentine lit a cigarette, “not to mention a pretty clear picture of who that false brother would have to be.”

“Why do you find it so much more likely that I faked Danse's death and ran,” I challenged, “rather than the fact that Danse is dead and I couldn't stomach Brotherhood philosophy any further? Paladin Danse was a loyal soldier to the end. He did nothing to betray the Brotherhood except exist, and confronting him about his true nature was one of the most difficult things I have ever done. Maxson was there; he followed me because he doubted I would finish the deed. Either I am the best liar in history, or your Elder himself would have to be complicit in this ridiculous conspiracy. If you haven't any proof to support your paranoia, we have nothing further to say to each other. Shall we, gentlemen?”

We made it a few paces before the Knight shouted, “Danse!”

“With you?” Hancock called back, “No way I'm high enough for that!”

Once we were a few blocks further, Hancock nudged Danse's arm, “Shit, crew cut, they really got your number. What the hell did you see in a bunch of racist bastards anyway?”

“Hope for humanity and a chance to make a difference in the world.”

Hancock scoffed, “Don't see why hope for humanity means killing all the freaks like me - or you.”

“It made sense at the time.”

Hancock paused a moment before he said, “Look, brother, I get that ain't you anymore. I just can't wrap my head around it. Plenty of folks wanna make life hard for people just tryin' to survive. I'm not willing to stand for that kinda shit.”

Danse was skeptical, “Does that extend to your own citizens?”

“Got a real simple policy in Goodneighbor. If someone needs help, I help 'em. If someone needs hurting, I hurt 'em. It's not hard. Folks know what they're getting into when they walk into my town, and if they don't, then they learn real fast.”

It was nearing sunset when Goodneighbor’s neon sign greeted us. Danse stared at it a moment and said, “With all due minimal respect, Hancock, what the hell?”

“I know, wasn’t my first choice for colors, but do you have any idea how hard it was to rig that thing?”

“I was referring to the fact that there is a giant sign announcing the presence of your den of criminals in the first place.”

“Hey, not all of ‘em are criminals. Drifters, outcasts, freaks, anyone who doesn’t have a home to call their own. Besides, who the fuck are we supposed to be hiding from? Someone wants to take us out?” He smiled sinisterly, “Just let them try.”

We went inside, and Hancock sighed, “Home sweet home. Oh, crew cut, friendly tip. Security here is strictly ‘do it yourself’... but I'm guessing you won't have to worry about that. Everyone’s welcome as long as they play nice. Goodneighbor is of the people, for the people, you feel me?”

Though it was impossible to tell, I'm certain Danse was scowling at his surroundings. “Understood,” he said.

“I'm gonna head up to the office, take care of some ‘pending mayoral business.’ Look around, I'll catch up to you later.”

As Hancock went inside the State House, I said to Danse, “At the very least we should restock on ammunition and supplies. Then there's a friend of mine I'd like to check in with.”

“Affirmative… a friend? Here?”

“More of a former business associate. First things first, for ammunition you'll want to talk to Kleo, and for everything else see her neighbor, Daisy.”

Daisy was more than happy to meet the man who put Trashcan Carla in her place for insulting a ghoul, and pleased to hear Al, “the Vault-Tec ghoul,” was doing well. Apparently gossip travels among the caravans. Kleo unsuccessfully flirted when Danse expressed interest in some of her heavier weaponry, but ultimately he decided to simply stock up on fusion cells. Our supply needs met, I led the way to the Memory Den.

The proprietress was lounging in her usual position. “Good evening, Irma, is Kent in?”

“Where else would he be?” She smiled, “He’ll be happy to see you, sugar…” she stood as her attention drifted to the two men behind me, “... well, well! Hello, Nick.”

Valentine grinned, “Irma. Let me introduce the Lt. Colonel of the Minutemen.”

Danse removed his helmet, “Ma’am.”

“Welcome. And call me Irma, dear. Of course, if the rest of what's under the armor matches the eyes, you call me whatever you want.”

“I… appreciate the compliment. Exactly what sort if establishment is this?”

Irma laughed, “Relax, sugar, I'm harmless.”

“Wouldn't say that,” Valentine muttered.

“Oh hush, Nick,” she playfully scolded.

I left her to the explanation of her business while I looked in on Kent. He’d just finished introducing an episode where the Silver Shroud encounters a villain called “The Mechanist,” and greeted me with a smile. “Shroud! Long time no see. How’re things?”

“Doing well, Kent. Remarkably busy.”

“I bet. After destroying the Institute, being a General and all, and a detective, I bet you don’t have a bit of spare time.”

I laughed, “Some days it seems that way. Word has spread about the Agency?”

“There was a story in Public Occurrences a while back, that’s how I knew. Sometimes Diamond City Radio mentions you too. What brought you back to Goodneighbor?”

“Passing through, escorting your wayward Mayor home.”

“I sure do appreciate you stopping by. Is the suit still working ok? Oh, but I guess you don't use it a lot these days.”

“I do not, but it is still perfectly intact and functional. You did some impressive work, Kent.”

He smiled, “Thanks.”

We heard Hancock's voice from the other room, “There's two of you. Where'd Trouble get to?”

“Mayor Hancock,” Irma intercepted. “I don't often see you in my parlor.”

“Nothin’ personal. Just not my kind of high.” I could imagine; dwelling on the past held no appeal for that man.

“A moment, Hancock,” I called and turned to Kent. “I should be going. It was good to see you.”

“Sure thing Shroud,” we shook hands, “same to you.”

I joined my companions, we bid a good night to Irma, and followed the grinning Hancock out the door. “Come on fellas,” he said, “drinks are on me.”

“Which means they're on the house,” Valentine said.

Hancock shrugged, “Well, yeah, I own the joint, so same thing.”

As we descended into the Third Rail, Valentine said to Danse in a low voice, “Watch your caps in this place. Folks behind the bar are as likely to rob you as those in front of it.”

“You don't have to be a detective to see that much,” Danse grumbled back. Valentine chuckled.

An intoxicated patron made some comment about the “king of the ghouls” being back in town, prompting Hancock to smile, “It’s good to be home. What's worth drinkin' today, Chuck?”

The uniquely Cockney Mr. Handy behind the bar swiveled in surprise. “Mayor Hancock! I'm so sorry. I didn't know you'd be coming in today. We're out of your usual.”

“Don't sweat it, Chuck,” Hancock leaned against the bar. “Just gimme whatever tastes the least like it's been aged in a shoe.” He was handed a glass of something that might have been beer. “Here,” Hancock attempted to pay, but he was refused.

“Please, Mayor Hancock. I can't take your money.”

“Can't say I didn't try,” Hancock laughed, “Thanks Chuck. Oh, those three are with me.”

“What's the word, Charlie?” Valentine said as we joined the Mayor.

“Valentine. You actually gonna buy something this time?”

Valentine was amused, “It'd be a chilly day in hell before I buy any of your swill. So, anyone new in need of finding?”

“None that didn't want it or have it coming.”

This was clearly a routine between them. “Always the humanitarian, ain't ya, Chuck?”

“Set the humans up with whatever the hell you gave me is,” Hancock said with a grin, “and put it on my tab.”

You could almost hear a pained sigh. “Comin’ up.”

Danse, realizing he was taking up a large amount of limited space, moved to a corner to exit his armor. We joined him as Magnolia took the stage. Hancock and Valentine enjoyed the show while Danse and I spoke quietly.

“General, I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier. I didn’t mean to usurp your command. I shouldn’t have let my emotions override my duty.”

“You mean when we were fighting mutants? For heaven's sake, you are far better equipped than I to issue battlefield instructions. As for your reaction to Strong, I expected as much. You have every reason to hate mutants, and to doubt my admittedly questionable judgement concerning this one.” I managed a swallow of the poor excuse for beer I was holding before setting it on the table and switching to a cigarette. “Now. What’s really troubling you?”

“Is it that obvious?” he asked, chagrined.

“Only because I know you,” I assured him, and waited.

“… I used to sound like that. The Knight.”

“‘Get away, you abomination?’”

He nodded. “He didn’t react the way I expected.” 

It took me a moment to realize to whom he was referring. “Valentine? He’s had a century of practice maintaining dignity in the face of hate.”

Danse took a large swallow of his beer, grimaced, and set it next to mine. “It was difficult to hear, now that I’m one of those abominations.”

I put my hand on Danse’s shoulder, “As Hancock said, ‘that ain’t you anymore.’ And if he can see that, anyone can.”

Magnolia finished her performance to rousing applause. “Hey, Holmes,” Hancock grinned, “should we try to set the soldier up?” He nodded toward Magnolia.

Danse rolled his eyes. “No, thank you.”

“Not your type,” Hancock nodded, making mental note, “got it.”

“Hancock, stop trying to make me relax.”

“I’m concerned! Can’t be healthy having posture that good all the time.”

“The possibility that you would be at all concerned with what’s healthy and what isn’t is laughable.”

“Alright you two,” Valentine stood. I noticed he wavered a bit, the effort greater than it should have been. “Hancock, the humans are gonna need a place to sleep.”

Hancock scoffed, “Hotel Rexford belongs to Marowski. Not even my charm can crack those rates. Of course, there's always the couch in my office,” he leered at Danse. Danse didn't try to hide his disgust, prompting a wicked laugh from Hancock. As Danse entered his armor, he asked, “Seriously though, crew cut, when was the last time you got laid?”

“Five days ago, before I left Sanctuary.”

Hancock was thunderstruck. “Shit, seriously?” He chased after Danse as he left the bar, “A tin soldier is getting more action than I am?! That just doesn’t seem right. Course, I was on the road with your General…”

I held Valentine back a moment, “Are you alright?”

“Just a couple gears acting up…” he sighed at my frown. “I’ll be fine. Let’s catch up before Hancock annoys Danse enough to say something he’ll regret.”

We secured the sole available room at the Rexford (not even the Mayor dares push the patiencel of Ms. Hutchins, the elderly receptionist - a deathclaw would be cowed by her glare.) Hancock bade us goodnight and good luck on our journey to the Castle in the morning.

Valentine is running a diagnostic; it's taking longer than usual. He assures me he's perfectly capable of making the trip to the Castle and then Murkwater, but I can't help but worry. I have to put it from my mind and try to rest.

[madman-of-amargosa]

Sole Party 2.0

hosted by @hawkfurze

Days 1 & 2, May 2017 (smooshed together into one because I can’t get my shit together for more than a day at a time)

May 1st: Like always, introduce your Sole! What’s their SPECIAL, their likes, dislikes, are they romanced, what faction are they in. Tell everyone a little about them!

May 2nd: The Party has started and your Sole has just arrived! What are they wearing? How was their arrival and did they bring anything to the party?

(This is the first I’ve written pretty much anything in almost 2 years.  Thanks for the inspiration @hawkfurze.)

Also posted @ A03

A Special Ray of Sunshine, part 1

Goodneighbor, The Commonwealth  2287

The atmosphere of excitement was palpable in Goodneighbor as the sun went down behind the State House.  There was going to be a party.  Oh yes, there was going to be a huge party.  Parties were not uncommon in Goodneighbor.  That evening there was more reason for celebration than the usual reason of  ‘its a day of the week ending in ‘y’’, and the the good mayor of Goodneighbor was not one to pass up any reason to celebrate.

There had been no invitations nor RSVPs, but somehow the residents of Goodneighbor all knew where they needed to be as dusk settled over over the most infamous neighborhood in the Commonwealth.  The event had been weeks in coming.   It started when a mysterious hero in black descended upon Goodneighbor and single-handedly dispatched some of the community’s most reprehensible criminals, leaving only a calling card; the calling card of the Silver Shroud.  An assassin, a drug dealer, and a murderer had been eliminated one-by-one.  But that wasn’t the only reason for celebration. That day, the Silver Shroud had taken out the leader one of the most ruthless raider gangs in the Commonwealth, Sinjin.  The Mayor had once said of Sinjin, “Raiders are ruthless… But Sinjin, he’s in a whole different class.”

As dark descended, the residents of Goodneighbor made their way to the underground, past Ham, the dapper bouncer, and into the The Third Rail.  The former subway station turned hooch parlor was the business venture of Goodneighbor’s mayor, John Hancock.  Whitechapel Charlie, a Mr. Handy robot, served  drinks, and a gilded lily by the name of Magnolia crooned in her sultry, saccharine voice about being a good, good neighbor.  Most of the residents of the town were there, drinking, socializing, chemming, and waiting. ��The good Mayor had not yet arrived, but it was early, and he had always been one to make an entrance.  

Each time someone descended the stairs into the station, heads turned in hopes that John Hancock had arrived.  No more attention than a cursory glance was paid when a newcomer entered the station.  He was tallish, youngish, with strong arms and broad shoulders.  He was a little doughy around the middle and a little round at the bottom.  He was unusually kempt for a wastelander. His short blonde hair was clean and as neatly combed as his cowlick would allow, and his square jaw was covered in a closely trimmed maguire.  His straight long nose propped up a pair of thick eyeglasses, and even behind the Nuka bottle lenses one couldn’t help but notice his shockingly blue eyes.  His attire was simple and mostly clean; a flannel shirt and jeans.  Like most wastelanders, he was armed.  An ancient but well maintained pistol, military issue, hung below his left arm in a worn leather shoulder holster.  No one greeted him or asked his name.  If anyone had, he would have told him his name was Vidcund, but they could just call him Vid.

Vidcund crossed the room to the bar.  He spoke a few words to Whitchapel Charlie, who responded with familiarity and accepted the small handful of caps handed him.  The newcomer took the beer and whiskey Charlie provided and requested the robot keep the drinks coming.  He found a table in a secluded corner, away from the others where he, too, drank and waited.

A short time later, he was joined by a diminutive marksman by the name of Robert Joseph MacCready.  Knowing MacCready was strapped for caps, he signaled to Charlie to bring them both a round of drinks.

“I was beginning to worry that you weren’t going to show,” MacCready said.

“For a while, so was I,” was his response. “Is this place usually this busy,” Vidcund asked as he glanced around the packed establishment.  He hadn’t yet had enough alcohol to begin feeling comfortable in such a crowded location.

“Not like this,” MacCready told him.  “They’re all waiting to see Hancock. They want to hear what he has to say about the Shroud thing, and hang around to see if he buys everyone a round of drinks.”

Vidcund chuckled.  “No wonder he was elected.  His constituents were all drunk.”

MacCready laughed.  “Who told you Goodneighbor was a democracy?  Hancock sure as heck wasn’t elected, but he’s the best darn mayor in the Commonwealth ‘cause he actually gives a crap.  Not like that jerk MacDonough in Diamond City.  Hancock doesn’t care what you are, as long as you’re not hurting anyone, you are welcome in Goodneighbor… even an ex-Gunner like me.”

Vidcund sensed that he had touched a nerve.  MacCready, like the few other residents of Goodneighbor he had gotten to know, seemed to be fiercely loyal to their ghoul mayor.  That was good to know.  Tyrants and dictators usually didn’t earn such loyalty from their subjects.

MacCready drained his bottle of beer and set it on the table.  “You still buying?”

Vidcund smirked and flagged down Charlie for another round.  He was finally starting to feel comfortable.  Whitechapel Charlie delivered, and the two men drank in silence for a few minutes.

MacCready eventually succumbed to the pressure to make small talk.  “I was mayor once,” he announced, “and I was elected.”

Vidcund tried to stifle a laugh and succeeded only in making beer shoot out of his nose.  “I’m sorry,” he said through his tears as he wiped the beer from his face.  “I didn’t mean to laugh, but seriously, how old are you?  Like twenty?”

MacCready looked hurt.  “Yeah, yeah.  Go ahead and laugh if you want, but it’s still true.  Besides, it’s not like you’re that much older than me.”

“Vidcund laughed.  “I’m a little older than you probably think.”

“Well why don’t you tell me why you’re so great, then?  What’s your story, grandpa?”

Vidcund felt bad for having laughed at the little mercenary.  As he and MacCready were going to be spending a lot of time together on the road, it was best to just get it out of the way so they could focus on finding Shaun.   “Okay,” he agreed.  “Which version do you want to hear? The one that’s true, or the one that’s believable?”

“Which one’s more interesting?”

“The truth it is,” Vidcund said, ending on an anticipatory note.  He took a long draw from his beer, almost draining it, and then a deep breath.  “I came to Boston after I was discharged from the army…”

“Wait, what army?” MacCready interrupted.  “There hasn’t been an army in about 200 years!”

Vidcund half glared and half smiled at him, eyebrow raised.

“Sorry,”  MacCready mumbled, chagrined.  “Please, continue,” he said.

“It was a medical discharge, from the US Army,”  he emphasized.  “I served with a detachment in Alaska protecting the pipeline until my eyesight go too bad for the army to keep me. I got a job offer from the sister of an army buddy and came to Boston where I worked as a apartment building super for a couple of years in Back Bay.  That’s when I met my wife, Nora.  We were only married a few of months when she got pregnant with our son.  Shaun was just about a year old when the bombs fell.  We made it to the vault outside of Sanctuary Hills just as they hit Boston.”  Vidcund paused for a drink, and for dramatic effect.  It turned out that home-stilled whiskey and skunky lager were a pretty good social lubricant.  The adventures of the Silver Shroud that afternoon had also proven to be a great boost to his spirits.

“If you were in Alaska during the occupation, that would make you,”  MacCready paused to do the math in his head, “at least 230 years old. I call bullsh…crap.  I thought you said this was the true version?”

“Yeah, yeah.  Call bullshit if you want,” Vidcund teased.  “It’s still true.”

“You’re full of it,”  MacCready said as he sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest.

“I’m serious,” Vidcund told him as earnestly as he could muster in his inebriated state.  He leaned forward across the table, toward MacCready.  “And that’s why I hired you, Mac.  Vault-Tec neglected to tell us that we weren’t going to be living in the vault, but were going to be test subjects in a clinical trial for human cryogenic suspended animation.”

“Human cryo-what?”

“Cryogenic suspended animation.  Vault-Tec tricked us into being frozen alive.  Every one in that vault died, except for me, and my son Shaun.  I need you to help me find him. I need someone to be my eyes because these one I have don’t work for shit.  Thanks to the US Army, I’m soon going to be blind, and if you are are sharp as you say you are, you are the eyes I need.  I’ve been out of that vault long enough to know I can’t do it on my own.”

“Jesuh… holy crap.  You aren’t making this crap up, are you?”

Vidcund shrugged and sat back in his chair.

“But you said your kid was just a baby.  What happened to him?  How’d he get out of the vault?”

“Someone opened the vault and started the cryostasis reversal.  When I woke up, I was still locked inside the cryopod.  I could see the pod across from mine, with Nora and Shaun inside.  A man and woman opened their pod, and took Shaun.  Nora fought.  She fought hard to keep Shaun, but they killed her.” Vidcund swallowed hard.  The memory still haunted him, still tore him apart inside. Not even intoxication could kill the pain. He cleared the lump from his throat before continuing, “I watched them kill her and take my boy, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to stop them. Then, for whatever fucked up reason, instead of killing me too, they put me back into cryostasis.  The only reason I’m here is because of a error in Vault-Tec’s system that thawed me out again.  I don’t know who took him, or why, or even how long ago, but I have to find him.”

“I believe you,” MacCready said quitely.  “Maybe I’m crazy to believe you, but I do.  I’ll do what ever it takes to help you find your boy.”  He forced a smile.  “But I think I’m going to need another drink first.”

[tumblunni]

AAAAGH internet

Cmon maaaaan give me a breaaaaak

Im STILL wasting loads of money on mobile internet cos this is TWICE ive called them and they said theyd send a repairman and ive waited abd then no repairman and i call them and they say "nope no record of booking a repairman here"

This is now my THIRD ATTEMPT and its been a week and im officially 100% broke thanks to this

And i barely even have any mobile internet left and i dont have any more money to buy more until the 25th aaaaagh! I KNEW it was bad to do something for my birthday, i knew i should have just stayed at home like a sad sack and saved the money just in case...

AUUUUUGHHHHH

And now i just found out i dont have anyone giving me a lift to the Integrated Autism Team meeting on wednesday and i cant afford a taxi and itd be SO STRESSFUL on the bus because its like three buses to a place ive never been before and then a mile long walk thru twists and turns to find this place and GAHH i wouldnt eveb have taxi money in case i get lost AND my mobile data will probably be gone by then so i cant even use goog maps...

And ive asked to borrow money from my friends SO MANY TIMES LATELY so i'd feel so awful doing it again! And i havent even paid back the last 15 bucks a friend gave me for that stupid situation where i got lost at 2am and needed a taxi home.

aAAAAAAGH

But on the 25th i get my Big Main Monthly Payment and hopefully all this shit will be sorted by then so i wont have any more Huge Spending Out Of Nowhere Moments and i can just finally pay everyone back! Like man i cant even give u guys fanart as thanks cos no internet means i can only badly photograph stuff on my phone and i cant give you a Big Cool Coloured Version

But aaaaagh at least i accomplished a one thing today i guess?? I talked to the Scary New Support Workers and they turned out to be Really Nice Actually. A team called FORT which stands for something something THERAPY probably maybe. There were two of them and they were Super Cool Young Doods named Bryony and Evan. And it was stressful having to talk in big detail about my childhood abuse AGAIN and my ptsd AGAIN to new people who needed to ask EVEN MORE invasive questions. But they were just SO nice about it! They straight up actually asked my gender pronouns and were supportive when i explained it to them and just aaaaaa *sigh of relief so huge i straight up melt into atoms and blow away on the wind*

I like.. Actually got to talk to them about how it added a huge extra level of stress at park road that people were really inconsiderate and quite prying about my LGBTness ans such. And how absolutely great it is to meet some medical professionals who care about being welcoming to diverse patients! Like i absolutely understand people not understanding my gender, i mean i am a minority within a minority after all. But god its so refreshing to just be able to..like..explain it rather than defend it? I dont have to "prove" it exists?? Constantly with different people every day?? And be told that its too difficult for them to remember?? Just getting basic levels of consideration was so great and i feel so much more able to trust them.

Also Bryony had really cool style like the sort of "librarian chic" i always aim for. And she was the main support worker while Evan was her assistant so i didnt talk to him much, but he's a Cool Gamer Dude and we had a fun small chat about how the Ps4 is a terrible beast machine that chugs along with train noises that almost block out the game XD and he was wearing a cool vault tec company logo thing and is excited about the new fallout, so yay! Neither of them play pokemon but they listened to me babble about how the new game lets you give pikachu LITTLE HAIRCUTS and Bryony was like "wow technology has come so far" and i think i actually got her a little interested in getting back into the series, haha? Anyway it was just nice to end a stressful conversation about illness and trauma with a few gaming babbles, lol.

Still have a huge stress headache tho and i wish this wasnt so early in the morning cos now its kinda left me exhausted before the day's even begun. But i feel proud that i was able to do the stressful THIRD TIME CALLING THE DAMN INTERNET GUYS right after this other stressful thing! Tho i did manage to handle it but i think maybe it was too much at once and thats why the big headache. Hope these pain meds kick in soon! I need to finally have my late breakfast cos maybe having them on an empty stomach is why theyre so slow? I aint know science!

So umm yeah that went mostly okay and im hopeful that these new support workers will be good because they said theyre focused more on extracurricular activities like classes and voluntary work and social groups to meet other people with similar mental illness. They left me a few leaflets to look through so hopefully i can understand it all a bit more then? But i feel proud of myself cos it wasnt too long ago that i was too scared to have meetings with anyone inside my own living room, and now ive done it a grand total of twice! And also spoken to annoying tech support on the most stressful phone conversation three wholee times! Just..please dont make it four ok...

Ok now bunni go lie down again. Instead of making breakfast. Because seriously this day has already felt too long and its only been two hours...