#institute laser pistol

[sysig]

Special Counseling (Patreon)

[biitchcakes]

Ideas for a FALLOUT verse :

i'm gonna ramble here but i wanna get What I'm Thinking out.

OPTION 1 :

Jessica's Fallout story is very similar to how her life starts now ⸺ only, instead of Hydra that's employed her parents, it's the Institute. Researchers in genetics that would be very interested in some Big Brain Biologists like the Drews. Perhaps they're wanted for their research into irradiated spiders ( we don't see any mutated spiders iirc?? so like, maybe they survived pretty unaffected, stayed normal, and maybe that's why they're being researched on? 🤷‍♀️ ), or perhaps not and they're just normal biologists and one of them is more than willing to use their daughter as a genetic guinea pig.

She's poked and prodded at as a child, perhaps even still while she's developing within the womb. She's got a slight immunity to radiation ( decently so, but not entirely safe from it as i'm not looking to Ghoulify the gal ).

Does this make her some sort of mutant by Fallout standards? Just lacking the FEV? Something instead of the FEV, really. I suppose, sorta kinda. And I might touch on that.

OPTION 2 :

I mean, I mean, look at Fallout 4's main storyline and look at what's happening to her in her comics right now ⸺ her son is abducted by an evil organisation, goes on a wild hunt and stops at nothing to find him. ( Replaying the game rn with her as a character, and every time she sadly says something like "I need to find my son, they've abducted my boy" it's a GUT PUNCH ⸺ TOO REAL RN )

I'd make her married to someone random, and I'd rename Shaun to Gerry.

If I go this route, a more Fallout 4-esque story not a one for one, I'm gonna work her being a detective for Nick Valentine in there somehow. I can't not do that. Everything else is so perfect already, how can I leave that out too? ( in his Raggedy Ass Columbo Jacket and all <3 )

Either way, some KEY THINGS I wanna hit:

She's a bounty hunter.

Her weapons of choice? Modified biker gloves charged with fusion cells, looks like lil electrified balls firing as she uses them. As well as a pistol fitted with a laser attachment that she's affectionately named her Venom Blaster. ( Think Pew Pew from FO:NV. ) I was gonna go with knuckle dusters but I like the biker gloves more. Suits her. Plus that means she's got some sort of range on them like she would her real venom blasts. How do they work technically? I'll get there.

In lieu of her pheromones, she's got high as all hell charisma. Could charm the dew right off a honeysuckle. And, if possible, some way to work in the Black Widow perk from New Vegas, 3 & 4.

She'll be younger than she is now ⸺ instead of being typically 28 - 32, I'm taking her down to 24 - 28.

There's a brief, and I mean very brief, period of time in the comics where she smokes. I'm bringing that back for this verse. Pay her in caps, or depending on the job, a pack of smokes. If you wanna gain some points toward her good side, bring her a pack out of the blue.

Still from London, but her parents move to the States at some point before the bomb.

[danses-with-dogmeat]

☠️🦖 "All you do is lie" for Deacon x f!sole?

Hurt me so good please. Congratulations!!

Well, you can't get much more perfect than this line for this character, so thank you for that!

And I will do my best. Again, I love Deacon, but I also love making him feel a little shitty. 😈

I hope you enjoy!

"Deacon? W-what are you doing here, are you... Were you following me?"

Deacon's jaw set, the action formally damning him as the hurt in Sole's eyes turned to embers of fury.

"What happened to you being busy? What happened to not having time for your partner, for having to 'go it alone?' All this time, you were just tracking me? Spying on me?"

Sole was nose to nose with him by the end of it, so close, they could make out the cool blue of his eyes beneath his darkened shades. As well as the guilt that shone within them.

"Danse," Sole turned their head slightly to the side, their gaze refusing to leave Deacon's as they spoke to their other companion. "Why don't you head into the airport. I'll be right behind you."

Even without looking, they could feel the Paladin's eyes narrow at their request.

"Very well, I'll do as you ask, just... Be careful. I don't trust this one."

"Yeah..." Sole said, more to Deacon than to Danse, "I'm starting to think I shouldn't either."

The heavy steps of Danse's power armor-laden form grew distant as he trekked back to the Brotherhood HQ, but still, the Railroad spy firmly held their gaze.

"All you do is lie to me, Deacon!" Sole burst out, their arms flailing in frustration, "Everything you said the last time we spoke, it was all just bullshit! Does this mean nothing to you?" They gestured to the pair of them, one finger poking uncomfortably into his chest as they did so. "Everything we've been through, all this time working at each other's sides, doesn't it make you feel like shit? Not having a friend in the world? Not having anyone you can trust? Anyone that you can actually be honest with? Or are you even capable of honesty anymore?"

"Trusting people is dangerous, Sole." Deacon spoke firmly, almost completely monotone. And Sole wasn't sure why, but that pissed them off even more. They opened their mouth to let him know as much, but Deacon continued before they could voice a thing.

"That's what I've been trying to teach you all this time. Can't you see that? It's because I- I care about you that I want to protect you from anyone that might try and take advantage of you," He gestured broadly to the large airport behind them, his meaning clear. "Anyone who might put you in danger, even unknowingly, and that includes me. But it also includes your laser pistol pals in the giant metal flying nightmare."

"This isn't about them, okay? I'm not just blindly trusting the Brotherhood, but after you blew me off, what the hell was I supposed to do?" Their voice rose an octave, a testament to their desperation, "You wouldn't help me, Deacon, and I need to get into the Institute, I need to find my son, and sever that horrible organization's hold on the Commonwealth for good. I thought that's what we both wanted, but then you made it clear you had other priorities."

"Sole, just because--"

"Other priorities that, I guess, included spying on me." They spat the word at him, and Deacon flinched at the malice. "You didn't need to sneak around, okay? I know it's what you're used to now, and all your anti-trust monologuing probably means you wouldn't believe me at all, but you could've just asked me what I was doing with Danse and the Brotherhood. I would've told you, and, because I'm not you, I would've been honest about it."

"Ouch, okay, I get it." His voice sounded stripped, like the overused scratchiness of an old holotape. "Just ask, yeah, that's always worked in the past."

"You didn't know me in the past, Deacon." Sole's tone wilted, the anger slowly draining out of them as their companion began to yield to their fury. "I'm not a cunning master of subterfuge and stratagem. I'm not your enemy. I'm your ally, and whether you say it or believe it or not, I'm your friend, too. I know this goes against everything you preach, but you can trust me."

He nodded to them without a word, and Sole couldn't help but notice the way something appeared to catch in his throat as he swallowed thickly.

"I-I know." He finally said after a long pause, where the dangerously electric energy in the air between them seemed to sizzle out into a pleasant hum. "That's what scares me about you. I'm not... Not used to it, is all."

One hand came up to rub at the back of his neck, a small grimace still present in his expression as he looked away from his companion's still-intense gaze.

"But I can try, you know? Can maybe give it a go again. This whole 'friendship' thing." He said with air quotes around the word that, coming from his mouth, sounded like a forbidden swear word.

"I'd like that..." Sole smiled at him, their expression finally soft enough for the spy to chance another glance into their bright eyes without fear of being burned.

"So then... if what you say is true, and I really can just ask you. What are you doing hanging out with these jarheads?"

"You were the one spying on me," They said with a teasing grin, "Why don't you tell me?"

"Okay, yeah, I deserve that." He chuckled, his shoulders finally relaxing from their previous tenseness. "And while I did have a few theories, I think I'd rather get it straight from the source. Save face, and all that, you know."

"Yeah, I think that's probably best too." Deacon grinned at that, an apologetic thing, but also one of familiar amusement.

"Really," You continued, "I just needed to borrow some power armor from them. I have a lead on how to get into the Institute, but... Yeah, it requires me not dying of radiation poisoning first, so..."

The Railroad agent chuckled a bit at their tone, the way their sarcasm rivalled even his own.

"Well, if it's power armor you want, that Paladin Danse guy sure as hell looks like the one to get it from."

[yangxiaolongstan]

ok on my previous blog i did a few posts about fixing the things i didn't like about Fallout 4. not because i hate it but because i love it and want a better version. this time, weapon and armor tweaks.

first off, the problem children: power armor and heavy weapons. the real issues are that power armor is too all purpose and easy to access, and heavy weapons are too niche and situational. the minigun is practically useless after you kill the deathclaw in concord because you will never have enough ammo for it. on the other hand the power armor you pick up in the same quest is way too strong and there's absolutely no reason to ever not use it. if you know what you're doing you're not likely to run out of fusion cores past the super early game and there's no skill locking it off. the fix for power armor is super simple, reintroduce the idea that you need special training to use power armor and reduce the number of fusion cores in the world substantially. this will gate power armor off and make it a mostly late game item that you need to be careful with. the minigun should have somewhat higher damage, slightly lower fire rate, and also should not be present in concord at the start. maybe replace it and the power armor with a grenade launcher and some nice combat armor in a locked chest in the airship or something like that. and make them optional to the quest of saving the Minutemen. most of the explosive heavy weapons are pretty good but it's weird that there's no grenade launchers or anything like that. the gatling laser is fine if a bit op but i think there should also be other heavy energy weapons like tesla canons and plasma casters to complement it. the fat man is ridiculously strong but given that it takes either cheats, an absurd number of caps, or a long time to get one it's fine. the junk jet is great and i will hear no arguments.

for unarmed weapons there needs to be a greater variety and more to separate them than just damage. maybe damage type can vary more. the deathclaw gauntlet is super under powered compared to the powerfist so amp its damage and maybe give it a dangerous bleed effect. and let the player either incorporate unarmed weapons into their power armor or use them while wearing it.

energy weapons need their rifles and pistols separated at minimum. why can i turn a tiny laser pistol into a huge sniper rifle? the institute models should be sleeker and less boxy. don't let them take up a third of the screen. they should be as powerful as the standard laser weapons plus an effect unique to institute weapons, maybe they drain power armor or shut down robots with enough shots. and institute plasma weapons should probably reduce armor condition more than standard plasma. gamma guns are great as is.

speaking of armor condition, bring back equipment durability. it's such a good mechanic and it would fit great with Fallout 4's expanded crafting system.

single piece armors need to be stronger to match the multi piece sets. particularly for faction soldiers. it's absurd that coursers have worse armor than the gen 1s they fight with. Combat armor and Synth armor need more to differentiate themselves and Synth armor needs a complete redesign to not look like absolute shit (except the helmets, those kick ass) the Marine armor also doesn't look great and it's way way too heavy to be useful but it's very effective and could be good with a slight redesign so it didn't clip like crazy and slightly lower weight.

for melee weapons the fast swing speed group needs a significant expansion and a damage boost so they aren't completely irrelevant, the medium needs to have at least 1 proper energy blade, the slow is mostly ok but my god why the hell can you just make a rocket sledge? it makes the standard super sledge completely redundant. more variety in legendary effects too. they'll have their own section but for now, it's weird that pickman's blade is just a weaker throatslicer, Kremv's tooth looks awesome but the effect is terrible, Atom's judgement on the other hand is just incredible 10/10 no notes.

for guns, i want a better variety and a larger ammo variety. i don't necessarily have a problem with rifles using .45 ammo but it's weird that it's so common whereas the only pistols that use it are pipe weapons. maybe the combat rifle could use 5.56 or 5mm instead and we could have a combat pistol that used .45. combat pistols could have a similar skin to the deliverer only larger and silver instead of black. in fact, make the deliverer one of these. the hunting rifle needs a damage boost to function as the game's go to ballistic sniper, and should start off with a stock. the shotguns are really good but there should be 20 and 12 gauge versions. ive never been able to make myself give a single fuck about the assault rifle but it definitely needs a different model and some way to differentiate itself. maybe slightly higher rate of fire than the combat rifle but slightly lower damage and it automatically comes with a reflex sight like New Vegas' marksman carbine. i think giving it a model similar to the radium rifle would be good, but without all the weird extra bits slapped on. that way we can tell the radium rifle was made by altering the assault rifle. the handmade rifle needs a new name but otherwise i like it, especially the fact that depending on how good you are with bashing, automatic weapons, and non auto rifles you get different upgrades.

finally legendary weapons and armor. not gonna sugarcoat it, these SUCK. ive played over 2,600 hours of Fallout 4 and ive found maybe 4 good random legendaries across all my playthroughs. and all 4 were completely broken. most legendary effects are either borderline useless like ghoul slayers or exterminators, or absolutely absurd like explosive, instigating, and 2 shot. and even the best effects are entirely dependent on the weapon you find them on. explosive and never ending are probably the best examples. explosive turns an otherwise terrible weapon like the submachine gun into an alright weapon like the spray and pray, a great weapon like the radium rifle into a fantastic one with the kiloton radium rifle, and a pretty good weapon like the combat shotgun into a completely game breaking meat grinder. it's way too powerful. Never Ending is the opposite problem, with one glaring exception. for most weapons, Never Ending just makes you never have to reload. this is ok for early low capacity weapons like the double barreled shotgun, but completely useless on anything with a decent clip size or high damage, which is literally everything after the super early game, and on one weapon in particular it's completely broken. because of a weird glitch Never Ending gives the Gatling laser *literally infinite ammo* and since the gatling laser is already one of the most potentially powerful weapons in the game, this combination is also completely game breaking. I'll be honest, I don't really know how to fix legendaries, other than to remove the glitches and make at least some of them removable and craftable.

[minuteminx]

2, 4, 8, 13, 14, 18, 19, 22, 24, 27, 28, 29 (sorry i am just very curious)

Oh please do not apologize! I am so excited to have an opportunity to talk about my GORL at length. Thanks so much, non!

2. What are their opinions on factions?

Charlie is with Minutemen through and through. She appreciates that they’re trying to help everyone in the Commonwealth and make it a better place. She understands that they have their flaws, but they have personally been so helpful with her and haven’t asked for a ton in return.

She likes what the Railroad is trying to do, but struggles with their approach to people in need who aren’t synths. She gets frustrated very quickly trying to jump through hoops to prove that she is on their side.

In her canon, Charlie does not learn too much about the BoS. Her first interaction is helping Danse at the police station, but she does not join up. Her next real interaction with them is when she chooses to let them in on the Institutes plot at Mass Fusion. It’s a lesser of two evils situation and it’s ugly. She gets locked in a reactor room and Ingram is more concerned about the tech than her, so after that she’s really done working with them.

She really wanted to like the Institute, and she gave it a good old college try to have some sort of relationship with her son. However, their attitude toward the people of the commonwealth, people she came to know and befriend and love, really put her off. She blows them up.

4. Do they build up settlements or outposts?

Oh yeah. Charlie likes to ensure that settlements are not only functional but comfortable. It’s one of her primary focuses after she is done with the institute.

8. Do they like robots?

Loves them. Some of her favorite people are robots.

13. What prewar thing do they miss most?

The luxuries she took for granted: the food, running (warm!) water, not worrying about sprouting a third arm randomly.

14. What are their hobbies?

Charlie enjoys building things and tinkering, but she really loves photography. She’s always on the lookout for working cameras and film.

18. What are their opinions on ghouls?

She is not a fan of the feral sort, although she does feel sorry for them. I’ll mention this in her history section, but she finds them fascinating with regard to their cognitive decline because of her occupational background. As far as non-feral ghouls? They’re people. Just like anyone else.

19. What are their weapon choices?

Pistols, either 10mm or laser and modded to high Heaven

22. Give a brief history lesson of your OC.

Charlotte “Charlie Elise Smart is approximately 30 years old (plus 210). Before the war she was a neuropsychologist who specialized in Neurocognitive Disorders (think like Alzheimer’s, TBIs, etc). Shes panromantic demisexual and married her childhood best friend and only person she’s ever been with, Nate. They didn’t plan on kids, but Shaun was an accident she was very happy to have happen. Her life was really just getting started when the bombs fell and she is traumatized, heartbroken, and angry as hell.

24. Did they enjoy the Shroud Quests or think they’re stupid?

Charlie had a blast. She was a fan of the comics before the war and was happy to do something nice for Kent.

27. Who are your OCs favorite companions?

Preston is her romance and MacCready is her best bro. She also enjoys spending time with Valentine, Piper, and Hancock although they’re not as close.

28. Does your OC have main home?

She stays at Sanctuary Hills but may weekend at the Castle or Quincy every once in a while.

29. Give us a picture/screenshot/description.

[softlyapocalytpic]

Character Profile: Mae Ishikawa, The Sole Survivor

Pre-War

Post-War

*Not featured: Scarring from being frozen, as well as misc. scars from general wasteland mishaps,

Full Name: Eleanora-Mae Ishikawa (Maiden Name; Hishiro)

Birthday: Spring of 2037

Legit just can’t find the day/month right now, but it could be May 11th. Will update later when I find it.

Age: Through the story she goes from 30 to 50+ (this goes from 10 years before the war to the years after it).

Family: (I’ll get all their names when I find them)

Takeshi Ishikawa; her husband and ultimate house husband. Used to be a firefighter and there’s a calendar to prove it. Childhood friends. Her first love, although they didn’t get together until adulthood.

Ren Ishikawa; she first child and her pride and joy. They’re incredibly intelligent, sassy, and ambitious. Also neuro-divergent like their mother. Is 17 when they get frozen. They’d just started college.

Father Hishiro; she takes after him as far as being more reserved, but also his patience. A very dedicated man if not a little weak-willed when compared to others in the family. Grief irrevecobly changed him. Was alive at the time the bombs drop.

Mother Hishiro; Mae’s grace, kindness, and ferocity come from two people and her mother is one of them. Endlessly patient and understanding of her daughter. A good person with a strong will. It’s what got her killed. Died shortly before/during the beginning of highschool.

Lin Hishiro; Mae’s twin sister and the more energetic of the two. Takes on the family business much to Mae’s distaste, and despite all the arguing they are die hard for each other.

Grandma Hishiro; the head of the family after her grandfather died, and acts with all the authority that grants her. A poised yet terrifying woman with a huge soft spot for her family.

History: Mae grew up in Queens, New York alongside her twin sister as second generation Japanese-Americans. Her family moved during mass immigration from Japan to New York and settled there due to family friends, the Ishikawa’s, haven already settled.

Their lives were hard, but they enjoyed a slightly better life-style by taken advantage of corruption to protect their own little pocket of the neighborhood. Back door deals with corrupt cops and the local mafia made the Hishiro’s the leaders of their part of the neighborhood, a fact Mae and her sister remained blissfully unaware of until the death of their mother. Their mother was killed by a young hot shot, and their Grandmother went on a warpath.

In the end, the Hishiro’s ended gaining a lot of power and influence in the area, and built a successful business as a front to more illegal activities. Mae, ever the morally righteous, left home at 18 and swore off contact with her family. She was able to get scholarships and pay her own way through college and university by working and eventually promising herself to General Atomics. She had a child and got married her first year into grad school and then graduated the Commonwelath Institute of Technology in 2066 with a PHD in AI Theory and minor in pyschology. She worked briefly at General Atomics before the DIA recruited her for The P.A.M Initiative where she worked for the next ten years.

Interests: Her hobbies/interests include botany/gardening, chess, jigsaw puzzles, and reading/watching any detective noire (this includes the Silver Shroud).

SPECIAL:

Strength - 4

Perception - 10

Endurance - 4

Charisma - 6

Intelligence - 10

Agility - 8

Luck - 5

Combat Abilities:

Generally speaking, she’s a non-combatant relying on other skills to get out of a bad situation. However, if the need arises she’s good with pistols, some rifles, and laser weaponry.

If I had to pick some perks for her I would say her main ones would be: Awareness, Local Leader, Hacker, Science!, Robotics Expert, and Sneak.

Comments: My sosu has changed a lot since I first started this blog and here she is now in all her updated glory. There’s a lot left out since her story is on-going on ao3. Like her history is such a skimmed version of events and doesn’t really get to go into the fleshed out nuances of everything. Hope to post more about her in the future!

[nuka-bolt]

3, 18, 26, 30, and 32? (Dealer’s choice on OC)

Thank you!!! 🧡

Fallout OC Asks

3. What is their SPECIAL?

Alicia - S3, P4, E3, C8, I6, A3, L5

Evie - S4, P8, E6, C8, I5, A8, L7

Aidan - S4, P9, E4, C3, I4, A9, L2

Lucille - S5, P4, E6, C5, I6, A5, L5

18. Do they have any disabilities, mutations, or implants / enhancements? Do they have any chronic illnesses?

Evie and Lucille are both Synths so they are both resistant to radiation. All 4 have some form of chronic pain from the build up of injuries. Aidan has had the longest exposure to radiation of all of them

26. How would others describe them / their disposition?

Alicia - Kind but reserved. Outside of the persona she puts on as General Clarke she is quiet and thoughtful, but blind to anything involving her family

Evie - Friendly and passionate. Perceptive ones would get the feeling she's trying to hide something.

Aidan - Blunt and Loyal. Bleeding heart buried deep deep down. Those who are close to him are all that matter and he would die to protect them

Lucille - Timid but good-humoured. In combat she is ruthless.

30. What decisions have they made or actions have they done that affect their canon wasteland? (Did they blow up Megaton, have they killed/spared any major characters, etc.)

Derailed takes place before the events of F4. Its events lead to Boomer becoming the leader of Outpost Zimonja and certain events aid Evie and the Railroad in Liar Liar’s timeline, such as the awareness of the fall of Augusta safehouse.

Alicia is the Sole Survivor and completes Acts 1 & 2 and all that entails (saving Nick, killing Kellogg, Entering the Institute etc) and also helps with various side quests and companions (Nick, MacCready etc)

Whilst the Institute is suspicious of Bunker Hill, M4-29 (later Evie) confirms Railroad activities there and leads directly to the eventual Battle of Bunker Hill, though her own self-preservation means that the Institute never gets names or faces. She completes the Railroad quest line from Boston After Dark onwards, whilst Alicia completes the Institute quest line.

There's more but that'd be spoilers (and even more of a wall of text)

32. What is their go-to weapon or weapon class?

Evie - Deliverer

Alicia - at first it was her 10mm, modded to all hell. Then once she joined the institute she favoured laser weaponry

Aidan - back during his raider days he shared a .45 rifle with the rest of the lookout team. He has an allocated pipe pistol from the gang at Outpost Zimonja but has a secret 10mm that he keeps for emergencies

Lucille - Lucille has a scavenged 10mm she bartered from Tenpines Bluff. After the events of Derailed she favours a shotgun

[preppernewstoday]

Today is coincidentally the birthday of three gun designers: Eliphalet Remington (pictured, October 28, 1793 – August 12, 1861). He designed the early-generation Remington rifles and founded what is now known as the Remington Arms Company. Wilhelm Bubits (born October 28, 1954), an Austrian handgun designer and creator of the Caracal Pistol and Steyr Mannlicher M and S Model pistols. Horace Smith (October 28, 1808 – January 15, 1893). He was an American gunsmith, inventor, and businessman. He and his business partner Daniel B. Wesson formed two companies named Smith & Wesson, the first of which was financed in part by Oliver Winchester and was eventually reorganized into the Winchester Repeating Arms Company. — I have set sale prices on all of our shootable replica black powder revolvers at Elk Creek Company. Note that no FFL is required to order, and that cartridge conversion cylinders are available for many of these models. This sale will end on Tuesday, November 8th, so order soon! — SurvivalBlog Writing Contest Today we present another entry for Round 103 of the SurvivalBlog non-fiction writing contest. The prizes for this round include: First Prize: The photovoltaic power specialists at Quantum Harvest LLC  are providing a store-wide 10% off coupon. Depending on the model chosen, this could be worth more than $2000. A Gunsite Academy Three Day Course Certificate. This can be used for any of their one, two, or three-day course (a $1,095 value), Two cases of Mountain House freeze-dried assorted entrees in #10 cans, courtesy of Ready Made Resources (a $350 value), A $250 gift certificate good for any product from Sunflower Ammo, American Gunsmithing Institute (AGI) is providing a $300 certificate good towards any of their DVD training courses. Two sets of The Civil Defense Manual, (in two volumes) — a $193 value — kindly donated by the author, Jack Lawson. Second Prize: A course certificate from onPoint Tactical for the prize winner’s choice of three-day civilian courses, excluding those restricted for military or government teams. Three-day onPoint courses normally cost $795, A SIRT STIC AR-15/M4 Laser Training Package, courtesy of Next Level Training, that has a combined retail value of $679 Two 1,000-foot spools of full mil-spec U.S.-made 750 paracord (in-stock colors only) from www.TOUGHGRID.com (a $240 value). Two Super Survival Pack seed collections, a $150 value, courtesy of Seed for Security, LLC, A transferable $150 FRN purchase credit from Elk Creek Company, toward the purchase of any pre-1899 antique gun. There is no paperwork required for delivery of pre-1899 guns into most states, making them the last bastion of firearms purchasing privacy! Third Prize: Three sets each of made-in-USA regular and wide-mouth reusable canning lids. (This is a total of 300 lids and 600 gaskets.) This prize is courtesy of Harvest Guard (a $270 value) A Royal Berkey water filter, courtesy of Directive 21 (a $275 value), A transferable $150 FRN purchase credit from Elk Creek Company, toward the purchase of any pre-1899 antique gun. — More than $750,000 worth of prizes have been awarded since we started running this contest. Round 103 ends on November 30th, so get busy writing and e-mail us your entry. Remember that there is a 1,500-word minimum, and that articles on practical “how-to” skills for survival have an advantage in the judging.

[dognames]

fallout institute guns

so look i finished this - i really need to be making these faster i think.. anyway i enjoyed this a lot, the barrel was my favourite part

[blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms]

Help- Paladin Danse

Pairing: Danse  x Reader

Characters: Danse

Warnings: N/A

Request: N/A

Word Count: 413

Author: Aaron

“Excuse me?” You coyly approached the war-stained man who had hunched himself over the large, heavily chipped table and was staring intently at a large map of a Boston that you failed to recognise. You stared at the map trying your best to understand, but despite your many years living but a mere bus ride away it was so different from what you knew. With almost empty eyes he stared up and before you had even realised, he had drawn a well-kept laser pistol and had it calmly pointed at your chest.

“What do you want?” Instinctively you rose your hands into the air and slowly backed away. “Did I say to walk away? Tell me what you want before I sink a fusion cell into your chest.”

“I just want help… I think I’m lost. Don’t shoot me please, I just want to find my son.” The suspicion from his eyes failed to cease as he ushered you into a dusty, rusted seat with a slight lift of his chin and a wave from his gun.

“What happened to your son?” He asked as he returned to the table to thoroughly search through a docket of information. “Do you think it was the institute?” He asked, looking at you from under his eyebrows.

“What’s the-“

“Before your son was kidnapped had you noticed any… peculiar behaviour? Anybody following you or seeming a little bit too interested in what you had to say?” He cut you off before you could ask.

“What’s the Institute?” You asked again leading to a scoff and a raised eyebrow from him.

“Please tell me… I’m sorry I never seemed to take your name, how unprofessional of me. I’m Paladin Danse of the Brotherhood of Steel. You are?” A wave of emotion rolled over you. Paladin… Brotherhood… Institute, what does it all mean? None of this meant anything.

“Y/n. Look can you help me find my son or are you going to keep throwing these nonsensical words at me?”

“Nonsensical… look y/n, I understand that you’re going through a hard time, but the looming threat of the Institute isn’t the joke some idiots think it to be. But of course, apart from those people stealing bastards it could have been ghouls, super mutants, the common raider or to be honest just about any other scum that trawls this hell hole. Oh… sorry, yeah, I can do what I can but don’t get it my way, I’m very busy.”

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Fallout 4 characters (who've been to the capitol or at least heard about what happened there) react to sole survivor finding a tunnel snakes jacket and/or meeting butch and the lone wanderer who came to the commonwealth to meet sole survivor and co. after the railroad ending

Sorry if I made it too complicated

Thanks so much for the ask! This was a super interesting prompt! I only did a few companions (including Danse despite this being a railroad ending because I just couldn't help myself) but if there's someone I didn't include that you still want to see, just let me know! I hope you enjoy :)

Danse:

Danse stopped in his tracks, forcing Sole to halt in place a few paces back. They peeked their head out from behind his tall, power-armored frame, looking for signs of danger. In the distance, two figures made their way towards them, and Sole raised their sniper rifle in preparation, curious as to why Danse made no sudden moves to ready his own weapon. Sole held the scope of their gun to their eye, trying to find a good shot in case the pair turned out to be hostile. Noticing their action, Danse turned his head, bringing a large hand up to push the barrel of the gun roughly downwards.

“Hey!”

“There’s no need to have them in your sights, soldier. These civilians are no threat to us.”

“How do you know? What about exercising caution?” Sole adjusted the grip on their rifle, still not completely convinced that they weren’t in danger.

“I know because I’ve met these people before."

“You can tell who they are all the way from here?” They squinted their eyes at the figures in the distance once again, trying to make out any discernible features, but failing to do so.

“Yes, look at their vault suits.”

“Okay,” Sole started, “I know it all turned out fine with me, but not everyone wearing a vault suit is automatically a good person.” Danse closed his eyes for a moment, a bout of air escaping his nose in an expression of his annoyance.

“I know that. But look closely,” His voice lowered a bit as the two strangers in vault suits grew nearer. Now, Sole could almost make out the general features of their faces.

“Their suits say ‘vault 101’ on them.” Danse said the words with a weight that left Sole feeling as though they should know what he was talking about. He turned to look at them expectantly, almost confirming their theory, before noticing their distinct lack of recognition at his words.

“Vault 101 is in the Capital Wasteland," he explained, "only three people I know of have ever left that particular vault; I know one to be dead, and the other two travel the wastes together, performing selfless acts to aid the settlers in the Capital. One of them is called Lone, and they were once a great ally to the Brotherhood of Steel; they walked beside Liberty Prime in our war against the Enclave ten years ago.”

Sole furrowed their eyebrows, their gaze still trained on the blue-clad pair as they drew ever closer.

“And you’re sure this is them?” Danse nodded his head as he looked towards them, Sole continued, lowering their voice even more as their gaze rested on the approaching vault-dwellers, “And they’re no threat? If they’re still allied with the Brotherhood, that could be an issue, Danse.” They said the last bit rather softly, hinting at the ex-paladin's now severed relationship with the faction he was once so devoted to.

“I suppose we shall see.” Danse said, and Sole looked on as one of the pair acknowledged them with a wave of their hand, their partner behind them keeping his pistol lowered reassuringly.

“Greetings, civilians.” Danse said, effectively outing himself as a (former) member of the Brotherhood, as if the power armor hadn’t already helped with that a bit. This is why I do the talking. Sole thought as they let out a breath, trying to release some of the anxiety they felt building up in response to this strange situation.

“Hello.” One of them said, their eyes slightly narrowed in suspicion of the soldier and his companion. “Nice outfit,” they nodded towards Sole’s own vault suit, but before Sole could respond, Danse took another step forward.

“Do you still go by ‘Lone’?” he asked, and the one in front snapped their gaze up to look him in the eye, their bewilderment plainly written on their face.

“Hey!” said the man in the leather jacket behind them, “how do you know Lone’s name?”

“So, I suppose that’s a ‘yes,’ then.” Sole interjected. Lone looked back, flashing a perturbed look at the man behind them, and Sole’s gaze went up to Danse, hoping he would explain more. For both their sake, and for Lone’s.

“We haven’t met, but I was at the Citadel when you arrived after the Enclave took over your father’s water purifier.”

Lone's eyebrows seemed to raise slightly at that, as they nodded in remembrance.

"So, are you still with the Brotherhood, then?" The air seemed to sizzle and crack around Danse at the pressure Lone’s question exuded on him. Should he lie and say that he is? Or has Lone since cut ties with the faction as well? There was certainly no physical indication that they were still allied with the Brotherhood, but…

"Not currently." Sole answered for the ex-paladin, "I don't know if you've heard, but the chapter of the Brotherhood that was stationed here was wiped out." They felt Danse tense at their words. Now Sole was taking the risk, mentioning an event that had nearly demolished their relationship with the former Brotherhood soldier, but they had to say something. And this way, they weren’t giving away their position in relation to the Brotherhood.

"So I'd heard. It's a shame, really."

"I’ll tell you what’s a shame,” Lone’s companion spoke up, “that they lost their sweet ass ride. That's what I think. Never seen anything like it, now the whole damn thing’s been blown to smithereens."

Danse’s eyes seemed to glaze over at the mention of the destruction of the ship he once called home, and Sole knew he wouldn’t be much help to them now.

“So, you’re from the Capital? What is it that’s brought you out here?” They asked in an attempt to veer away from this troubling subject. Lone narrowed their eyes slightly, and Sole could practically see the gears turning in their head as they thought through what sort of information they wanted to divulge to the strangers in front of them.

“Wait, slow your roll there. We might kinda-sorta know this guy," Lone's companion gestured to Danse, "but who are you supposed to be, huh?” Sole noticed the man’s hand remained firmly grasped around the 10mm pistol he carried, and they wondered if perhaps Danse had been wrong about these two. It has been 10 years, these people could have changed. They could be anyone by now.

“My name is Sole.” They said simply, unsure how they should further embellish their title, given their uncertainty surrounding the pair in front of them. But, as it happens, it seemed they didn’t have to, for as soon as their name left their lips, Lone turned abruptly to their companion with wide eyes.

“You’re Sole?” Lone asked, their gaze turning to fall heavily on Sole, their eyes round in recognition.

“No way we just bumped into them like this. No way.” Lone’s partner shook his head in disbelief, and Sole looked up to see Danse’s stare break from the nothingness he’d been focused on to rest upon Lone’s perplexed face.

“I-- well, yes, I am. How do you…?” Sole trailed off, not sure what exactly they were trying to ask.

“Well, you asked why we came here.” Sole nodded to them, “It was to find you.” At that, Danse raised his laser rifle from the restful position it had held throughout the entire exchange thus far, as the possibly threatening words left Lone’s mouth.

“Easy there, sergeant major. We’re just gabbin’, no need for a defensive position.”

“And that’s exactly why I’m taking one. Always best to be prepared, civilian.” Danse looked down at Lone’s companion with furrowed brows, hands holding steady in their poised position on his rifle.

“Alright, everyone, let’s calm down. We just want to talk to you, Sole.” Lone said, hands slightly raised in an inoffensive gesture.

“Why?” Danse said, utterly unconvinced that the pair meant no harm. My, how the tables have turned so abruptly. Sole thought, I’d like to tell him I told him so, but something tells me now’s not the time for that.

Lone just smiled as Danse glowered down at them,

“If all I’ve heard is true, Sole is a hero." They said, "my aim is to find out what really happened with you and the Institute, and maybe, if I like what I hear, we’ll have a few favors to ask of you.”

“Favors?” Sole spoke up, “What did you have in mind?”

“We’ll go into more detail later, but let’s just say that the Capital Wasteland hasn’t exactly benefited from the Brotherhood’s… change in management. For now though, I’ll leave it at that. And we should get moving if we’re going to find shelter before sundown. I hear it can get pretty chilly up here at night.” Sole nodded as they considered all that Lone had said, and as their eyes found Danse’s, the pair silently decided to trust the Lone wanderer and their partner. For now, at least.

“Sole,” Danse said, “why don’t you take point.”

“Good idea.” Sole moved to step ahead of the others, heading north along the dirt road they had been following, before glancing back at the sound of Lone’s voice.

“Butch, why don’t you take up the rear.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” Butch turned to Sole and winked before doing as Lone had suggested, and the group set off to find shelter for the fast-approaching evening.

MacCready:

“Holy crap, where the heck did you get this?!” MacCready held up the leather jacket in front of him, eyes widening in awe. Sole looked over from where they stood outside their house in Sanctuary, squinting their eyes at the seemingly inconsequential jacket.

“That’s not mine.” They told him, turning back to unloading the scrap they’d acquired from the mission they and MacCready had just returned from.

“Do you even know what this is?” You looked back at him with a cocked brow,

“Does it look like I do?”

“This is a Tunnel Snakes jacket!” MacCready held the jacket with one hand, the other gesturing animatedly to the artwork on the back of it, Sole’s expression remained devoid of recognition, so MacCready felt the need to continue, “The Tunnel Snakes! It’s a gang. They’re from the Capital Wasteland. I’ve only ever seen one of these jackets once, and--”

“Oh, and what have we here?” A man in a vault suit with slicked back hair stepped out from the side of the house, flicking a cigarette butt to the ground, “hey, come check this out! Told you the Tunnel Snakes’ name got around.” The man gazed proudly at the jacket, a smug expression formed on his face as another stranger rounded the corner of the house. They also donned a vault suit, an amused smile playing at their lips as they rolled their eyes at their companion. The new stranger was odd, despite their age, they had an air of knowing about them. They were young, but their eyes seemed old, light lines shown on their face, telling the story of a life fraught with loss and tough decisions.

“Butch, we’ve been over this.” They said, “There’s like three people in the gang, and two of them live underground. The guy probably just thinks it’s a cool jacket.”

“Then how did he know the name, huh?”

“It’s on the jacket, Butch.”

“No!” MacCready interjected, “I do know you guys! We’ve met before, remember? Little Lamplight?”

Sole was now to the point of utter bewilderment as their head darted back between Mac and the two strangers. What the hell is going on here? Who are these people? Has MacCready ever mentioned a ‘Butch’ before? The stranger looked hard at MacCready, taking a few steps towards him, before recognition sparked in their eyes. Sole took a few steps forward in response, uncomfortable with the strangers’ proximity to their companion.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” They whispered, just loud enough for Sole to hear from where they stood beside the group. “I wouldn’t forget those wide, blue eyes. Look at you, little mayor MacCready, how’s it feel to be a mungo now, huh?”

“Holy shit!” Butch exclaimed, moving closer to MacCready to get a better look, “It’s the little mayoral punk from the kid cave!”

MacCready just laughed, his hand still clasped firmly around the leather jacket, as Sole stepped towards them.

“The hat’s changed a bit, but I see you’re still fond of sniper rifles.” The stranger nodded to MacCready’s rifle that lay on the ground next to where he stood. “Tell me,” they continued, “you still an asshole?”

Sole opened their mouth, only to be shut down by a glare from MacCready.

“You’re not allowed to answer that.” He pointed at them as he said it, and Sole rolled their eyes at him. MacCready then looked to the strangers, as if to answer their question, but before he could utter a word, Sole stepped forward.

“Okay, hold on, before anybody else says anything, I need to know what’s going on here. So, you going to introduce me to your friends, or what?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, of course!” MacCready seemed to jitter with excitement as he bounced over to them, and Sole wondered who it was they saw energetically bobbing around in front of them, this certainly wasn’t the MacCready they knew. And judging by their befuddled expressions, Butch and the stranger thought the same.

“Sole, this is Lone, the one I told you about, who helped with the mutants at Little Lamplight? And purified all that water for the people in the capitol? Yeah, that’s them, and this is their partner, Butch, he was from the same vault and was an OG Tunnel Snake.”

“Yeah, the OG Tunnel Snake.” Butch said, bringing his hands up to flick his collar up, before realizing he wasn’t wearing his jacket. He smoothed his hands over his chest awkwardly instead as Lone looked on, a mix of disappointment and amusement playing on their face, before they turned their attention to Sole.

“So, Sole, you’re the one everyone’s been talking about.”

“I-- I am?”

“Yeah, you’re the reason we came all the way up here. The vault dweller from before the war, the legendary railroad agent, and the one who brought down the Institute. You're a hero, even down in the CW. But it's strange, you’re younger than I thought.” Sole blinked, and smiled a little bashfully, unsure how to respond to such praise coming from Lone, who certainly was a legend in their own right. Instead of speaking to them directly, Sole turned to MacCready,

“You told me that Lone was dead.”

“What? No, I--”

“No, MacCready, you said they gave their life for the people of the capitol, in that water purifier thing.”

Lone chucked from beside Sole, shaking their head.

“It’s okay. You’d be surprised by how many people think that's true. Anyway, you’ve clearly heard my story, but we’re here for yours, Sole. What do you say we go inside and talk?”

Sole nodded, gesturing for them to head inside the house. They glanced over to MacCready, who made an attempt at handing the leather jacket back to its owner. But Butch just slapped him on the back,

“Tell you what, daddy-o, you keep it. I’m always happy to meet a fan. Plus, I got plenty of those back home.”

Deacon:

The pair entered the memory den and Sole nodded to Irma as they made their way towards the stairs leading to the basement. As they headed down, Sole heard Deacon’s footsteps behind them falter. They turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised,

What is it? They asked him silently, the words written in their expression. He took a few steps closer to them, keeping his voice low as he answered.

“Do you hear that?” He asked, and Sole held their breath as they listened for whatever it was that had their companion concerned.

“Voices?” they whispered back, and he nodded.

“I don’t recognise them. Better let me do the talking.” Sole nodded to him, and stepped aside, allowing Deacon to take the lead. They were coming to escort a recently mind-wiped synth to their new home in the Jamaica Plain settlement. The only ones meant to be present were Dr. Amari and the synth, Charlie. Deacon and Sole had helped the synth, designation C1-44, all the way from Mercer safehouse to Goodneighbor, so they knew his voice well enough at this point. Sole had hoped that, with the Institute effectively gone, processes like this would become much less common, and the existing synths could live their lives in peace, with their memories intact. But C1 had specifically asked for a mind-wipe, the Institute’s depreciating thoughts and acts towards him had left him with an abhorrent self-image that he felt he needed to escape from. Deacon had been right, it seemed, even without the Institute, the Railroad’s work was never done.

Sole might’ve waited to peek around the corner before entering the room, but Deacon sauntered right in while they held back in the hallway. They had always admired the spy’s confidence, but how many times had he warned them about waltzing into a situation without preparation? They seemed to recall a number of instances…

“Bullseye, you comin’?” They rounded the corner at the sound of their Railroad codename, a little alarmed, only to find the room devoid of both Charlie and Dr. Amari. Instead, two strangers stood beside the memory pod in the room. One stood in front of the other, at the ready, while the man behind them leaned against the back of the memory pod.

“Where..?” Sole started, turning to Deacon, but he was looking back at the stranger in combat armor,

“See, Lone? Told you I knew them. I don’t always lie, despite what you seem to think.”

The one named Lone rolled their eyes at him,

“You may not have lied about bringing them here, but I seem to remember you describing them as much more… well, not quite as they are. Say, Bullseye, how tall are you?”

Sole opened their mouth to respond, but Deacon cut them off before they could voice a thing.

“Is that really what matters? So, I may have exaggerated a few details about their appearance, but everything else is true. They really took down the Institute after working undercover for months without detection, and they've saved well over a hundred synth lives.”

“Deacon.” Sole said, their uncertainty keeping them frozen in place by the entrance to the basement, “who are these people? Where is the-- ah, where is our client?”

“Oh, where are my manners?” Deacon brought a hand up to his chest dramatically before approaching Sole, throwing his arm around their shoulders, and urging them forward before gesturing to the people in front of them.

“This is Lone, the famed Railroad ally from the Capital wasteland. And you two have quite a bit in common, cuz, you see, Lone has also managed to take down a potentially world-destroying organization that happened to be bigoted, and inappropriately sanctimonious and self-obsessed. So I thought it’d be cute for you two to spend some time together, you know, swap war stories and pre-war recipes, stuff like that. You had pre-war food in vault 101, right?”

“It’s good to finally meet you,” Lone said, ignoring Deacon's attempt at humor, “I’ve heard so much.” Sole went to properly introduce themself, but was once again interrupted, this time by the man in the leather jacket behind Lone, who cleared his throat loudly.

“Oh,” Lone moved slightly out of the way so that Sole and Deacon could better see their companion, “This is my partner, Butch, he’s also from the vault.” Butch cleared his throat again, frowning at Lone.

“And? C’mon partner, you’re not telling me that’s all I am to you?”

Lone frowned slightly, appearing unphased, as though this were a common occurrence for them, “Butch also helped me take down the Enclave, and he assists me with the Railroad missions I’m involved with in the Capital.”

“Butch, pleased to make your acquaintance.” He said, walking forward and extending a hand towards Sole, who shook it tentatively.

“There, now we’re all on a first-name basis, why don’t we get moving? If we’re going to reach HQ before sundown, we’d better go now.” Deacon withdrew his arm from Sole’s shoulder, and started towards the door. “Hold on a moment, Deacon. What about our mission? You never answered me,” they continued, lowering their voice at their next question, “and now we’re taking these people to HQ? Does Des know?” Deacon looked at them with a disappointed expression,

“You’re killing me here, where’s the mystery if I explain everything? Where's the fun in that?” Sole flared their nostrils at him and heard Lone snicker from behind them.

“Really, we’ll talk when we get to HQ.” He said, turning back towards the stairs, “And of course Des knows.” He called over his shoulder, “I would never presume to waltz right into HQ with a couple of perfect strangers without her permission. Who do you think I am? Who do you think I think I am?” Sole caught the smug grin that spread across his face as he turned to take the first step up the stairs to the ground floor.

“Don’t worry,” Lone said, walking up from behind Sole, “We know Des. I’ve worked with her more times than I care to count, though I never have actually met her. That’s why we’re here, actually. To meet her, and the others I’ve heard about. And to meet you. Believe it or not, I’ve heard the most about you.”

“I suppose that means I’m not a very good agent.” Sole said, a little laugh escaping them as Lone’s words gave them some peace of mind regarding this odd situation they found themselves in.

“Eh, who cares about that. The Institute’s gone, so I don’t know why we’ve gotta still be all secret-y now anyway.” Butch’s voice came from a few steps down the stairs, and Lone shook their head at him, their exasperated expression seemed to mirror the one Sole usually had upon their face when Deacon opened his mouth. Maybe Deacon was right, they thought, as they reached the top of the stairs and the group made their way to the exit. Maybe Lone and I do have some things in common.

[theterribletenno]

so I had an

E X P E R I E N C E

while playing fallout 4 today

and it didn't even involve a gamebreaking bug

So I'm on the quest where you go to escort your first Synth for the railroad, which I happen to have put off until I was like level 30 mostly because I couldn't find the railroad.

I am sneaking through Boston - as one does - listening to the sounds of perhaps-not-distant-enough gunfire - as one does in Boston - and I come across a pile of meat giblets.

Upon closer inspection the meat giblets are - what used to be - raider scum. As I was picking over his largest chucks for caps and ammo I thought to myself "I wonder what it was that reduced this raider to pasta sauce?"

And as I looked up I saw - NO MORE THAN 25 FEET AWAY - a deathclaw. Just idling. It was facing away from me and hadn't noticed me because I am good at sneaking. And I am like "OH GOD" and I stand there just staring at the back of this deathclaw which had - possibly barely moments before - just ripped this man into confetti.

When I hear a noise from behind me. Another raider scum runs right past me to fire her 9mm pistol at the FUCKING DEATHCLAW that had recently sent her friend to the shadow realm and is now popping caps at it while STANDING RIGHT NEXT TO ME!

As the giant mutant reptile lunged at the 120 pound bag of warm meat that had just opened fire on it, I used a combination of sprinting and shitting myself to make a serpentine route towards the shoreline, putting some buildings between me and the miniature Godzilla who was about to make a human smoothie.

Somehow the Deathclaw was too busy turning radiated Bostonians into salsa to notice me slip away as I very quietly made my way closer to the dead drop for the "package from the Institute..."

And am confronted by some very defensive drug peddlers who were just standing in the middle of nowhere. They weren't aggressive. They just wanted me to buy something or leave. So I left. And I didn't warn them about the dystopian fursona painting the town they were about to walk into red.

AND THEN as I am rounding the corner of the building I hear a fracas nearby, and I am seeing a lot of laser beams. This piques my curiosity because after the raiders, deathclaw, and drug dealers I wonder what fucking else could be going down in Boston tonight.

I assume the Brotherhood of Steel is ridding the world of some bomb worshiping cultists or something but no there is a dozen robots of random and assorted types all fighting each other to the death just far enough away as to not draw anyone else into their game of lasertag deathmatch

So I slip into the old church, shoot a few more raiders in the head, and before I have time to say "Just like the real Boston" I am having a lore-heavy conversation with a man in a suit and a man who is a robot.

And as I am chatting with these two quest NPCs... I see something outside the window... It's the deathclaw from earlier now skulking and prowling around JUST OUTSIDE THE CHURCH. I genuinely believed it was going to come inside and interrupt our conversation but surprisingly... it didn't... and seemed to disappear.

I thought that maybe there was some quest script that scrubbed out extra hostiles before beginning the escort part of the mission; I was wrong.

We make it to the end of the block where we are attacked by raiders. And supermutants. At the same time. And who comes barreling in from behind a badly parked truck that I was about to use as cover? THE DEATHCLAW.

I dispensed a large amount of hot lead from my beloved heavily modified shotgun, used VATS multiple times, and blew up a truck. And then things were nice and quiet for a while.

[disneyat34]

Treasure Planet at 35

A review by Adam D. Jaspering

In 1883, Scottish author Robert Louis Stevenson published his most famous work, Treasure Island. By his own admission, it was a story for young boys. It omitted literary elements commonplace in adult literature of the era. Concepts such as love stories, philosophical themes, and romanticism were discarded. Unlike trenchant, allegorical ocean-bound novels, such as Moby Dick and Robinson Crusoe, Treasure Island would be a straightforward adventure. It would be to-the-point, for the sole purpose of entertaining children.

The strategy paid off. Stevenson’s story is not only the seminal work of the swashbuckler genre, it’s one of the most frequently adapted works in all fiction. Disney first adapted the story in 1950. 

While the film isn't an immortal classic, it has its place in film history. For starters, it was Disney’s first live-action film. More noteworthy, it features actor Robert Newton's exaggerated West Country accent. His performance as Long John Silver is so iconic, his delivery has become the de facto pirate accent in all pirate media.

Over 50 years later, Disney Animation released their version of the story. Treasure Planet is the third film in Disney’s unofficial sci-fi genre crossover trilogy. Atlantis: The Lost Empire was science fiction crossed with an adventure movie. Lilo & Stitch was science fiction crossed with a family drama. And Treasure Planet is science fiction crossed with a swashbuckler. 

Treasure Planet is the story of Jim Hawkins, a young man in the distant future on the precipice of adulthood. Desperate to escape his dreary and stifling home life, he serves as cabin boy on an intergalactic galleon. Following a much-coveted map to a planet full of lost treasure, Jim ventures across the cosmos. Unfortunately, the trek is more perilous than he expected as pirates threaten the voyage and the lives of everyone onboard.

Treasure Planet basically follows the same plot of the book. The key difference being, it’s set in outer space instead of the ocean. Piracy and sailing were interests from another century; spaceships and aliens were interests of the modern era. Transposing the setting and genre was Disney’s attempt to revitalize an outdated concept. As with all adaptations, the key issue is what to keep, what to change, and what to omit.

Conceivably, Treasure Island could have been converted fully into a science fiction film, doing away with the swashbuckler genre altogether. Replace the galleons with rocket ships, and all would be fine. But half the appeal of a story like Treasure Island is its iconography. It would be a disservice to deprive audiences of its charm. If you’re adapting a classic story, don’t throw out the classic story.

The filmmakers instituted what they called “The 70/30 Rule.” Whatever appeared onscreen, 70% had to be reminiscent of Stevenson’s original story, and only 30% could be futuristic. This results in spacecrafts resembling merchant ships. Aliens wearing tricorn hats. Flintlock pistols firing laser beams. It creates an interesting hodgepodge of steampunk and retrofuturism.

While this rule creates a specific look that's unique and engaging, it does nothing for the story. Treasure Planet is in a constant struggle of trying to be its own unique version of Treasure Island, while also being faithful. What gets changed and what remains faithful is decided almost arbitrarily.

In the novel, Jim is accompanied on his voyage by two men: Dr. Livesey and John Trelawney. Dr. Livesey is a soft-spoken man of letters who's knowledgeable in medicine and worldly wisdom. Trelawney is a nobleman who, though eager and well-intentioned, is hopelessly out of his element throughout the story. Treasure Planet fuses these two into an original character: Delbert.

Like Dr. Livesy, Delbert is educated in all manners, proven to be both learned and erudite. But he's quite stuffy and painstakingly meticulous. Like Trelawney, he’s eager to adventure, being sheltered by privilege his whole life. As a result, he's gullible, naïve, and far too trusting.

Delbert embodies the negative aspects of both characters without demonstrating enough of their positive traits. He is not afforded any dignity or competency. Throughout, he’s stumbling, bothersome, or completely incompetent. His entire purpose as a character is to make everyone else look better by comparison.

Captain Amelia is the stand-in for the book’s Captain Smollett. The decision to change the captain’s gender is an obvious one. Treasure Island is a serious boy’s club. The subtitle of the novel was literally “A Story for Boys”. Gender exclusivity may have been a marketing tactic in the 1880s, but not in 2002. Deliberately ostracizing half the potential audience is just bad business.

A woman needed to be added to the cast. The novel's only female character of any significance is Jim's mother. Mrs. Hawkins was barely more developed than a stock character and irrelevant to the plot. Her character is developed further for the film, but to no purpose. She disappears once the story begins. One of the major themes of the film is importance of a father figure. Featuring a strong mother is counterproductive to the intent.

The story’s focus on father figures means neither Jim nor Silver could change gender. Making Delbert a woman would make his incompetency seem like a commentary on gender. By process of elimination, the only remaining character was Captain Smollett.

Why her name was changed from “Smollett” to “Amelia” is anyone's guess. Maybe it’s a tribute to aviator Amelia Earhart. Maybe Smollett sounded weird when said aloud over and over. Maybe “Amelia” tested well as a friendly, elegant, mildly uncommon girl’s name that would serve well in merchandising. Supplementary material refer to her as Captain Amelia Smollett, but her surname is never mentioned in the film. 

The captain possesses a stern, forthright competency. She takes her position very seriously, but never to the point of antagonism. She has a sarcastic and pompous sense of humor, making her an affable leader and colleague. Her bold and engaging personality matches her power and prestige. She may be the token female character, but she rises to the occasion.

Long John Silver's appearance is also overhauled. Disney had been turning pirates into family fare for years by this point. Simply being an ordinary pirate no longer indicates treachery or danger to audiences. As such, Silver is now a pirate cyborg. In place of a traditional peg leg, he has a piston controlled prosthetic foot. Instead of a hook, he has a bionic arm, which can reconfigure from mechanical fingers to weaponry. Instead of an eyepatch, Silver has an artificial eye with infrared vision and a HUD.

Like Amelia, the name “Long John Silver” is grandfathered in exclusively by reputation. At no point in the film is he addressed by his full name, only "Silver," or "Mister Silver." Even in the film’s credits, he’s identified only as “John Silver.” It's an incredibly odd decision on Disney’s part. Why adapt one of literature’s most famous villains, with one of literature’s most recognizable names, and not use his name? The inherent benefit of adapting a famous story is the marquee value. Audiences will be already familiar and thus invested in the property. Forgoing this benefit is either cocky or myopic.

The design of Silver is grotesque, and not in the stylized way one expects animated villains to be. His entire appearance is overcomplicated. Not even his prosthetics, his organic body is too detailed for his own good. His bulbous body results in layers of fat rolls on his chin, diverting attention. The eyes are the most expressive part of the body, and instead we’re stuck focusing on his neck waddle. His nose takes up half his head, broad and flat as if eternally pressed against glass. Coupled with his ridiculously tiny ears and his two-toned skin, his whole physique is just baffling.

While Treasure Planet's largest appeal is its design, it stops short of its characters. Most alien creatures are indistinct blobs, looking as though they were sketched on a cocktail napkin two minutes before a storyboarding session. But Silver, Amelia and Delbert, are somehow worse. They're each a hybrid species: Half human, half something else. Amelia is half human, half cat. Delbert is half human, half dog. Silver is half human, half... something.

It’s not obvious what animal Silver is supposed to be sharing traits with. My initial guess was some sort of English bulldog, but that wouldn’t account for the bulbous nose. Various sources insist he’s part bear. I’m forced to take their word for it, because staring at his appearance, I can not find a single design element that resembles a bear.

What we’re left with is a human who’s not quite human. However, he doesn’t look enough like anything else. Therefore, we defeatedly accept he looks human enough, and cease further questioning. However, that little niggling uncertainty bothers us every time Silver appears on camera. He's vague, undefined, and always looks wrong. Three things which should always be avoided in animation.

Delbert and Amelia are defined and recognizable, but that doesn't automatically make their appearance better. The hybrid characters are very awkward looking. Disney has been making animals with human characteristics ever since Walt himself put pen to paper. But Treasure Planet approaches the task backwards. They aren't animals looking like humans. They're humans looking like animals. 

Everyone is an uncanny valley representation of human. Delbert’s big nose and floppy ears don’t make him look like a playful dog, they make him look like a melting wax figure. Amelia’s tight face, big eyes and small mouth don’t make her look like a cat, they make her look like she’s had too much plastic surgery. These are not the kind of character designs kids want in coloring books and on school supplies. Forget Treasure Island, they look like characters from Disney's version of The Island of Doctor Moreau.

Which is probably why the animators overcompensated with our protagonist, Jim. Every single aspect of Jim's appearance looks like the result of a focus group, designed by committee. He can’t just be the hero of the movie, he has to be the definitive teen hero of a 2002 animated action film.

Let’s run the checklist. Leather jacket? Check. Ponytail? Check. Earring? Check. Combat boots? Check. Introduced to the audience participating in an extreme sport? Check. Background music featuring electric guitars? Check. The only thing missing is a can of Mountain Dew in his hand.

Disney is once again bending over backwards to appeal to its young audience. They must be cool and reflective of popular culture. They must escape their reputation of infantile entertainment. And just like their previous attempts, it’s embarrassingly transparent. It all leaves a bad taste of desperation.

Instead of making a quality picture audiences would want to see, Treasure Planet is a film they imagined audiences were asking for. Nobody could have possibly asked for this. There’s an alien on board who speaks entirely in fart sounds. Delbert communicates to him, making fart sounds. The two go back and forth for twenty seconds, making a long series of fart sounds, hoping the audience forgets this was the same studio who made Cinderella.

Treasure Planet is desperate to sit at the cool kids table. Look at the soundtrack. One of the rare Disney films to be absent of musical numbers, Treasure Planet does have a montage featuring a song from rock musician Johnny Rzeznik. To say this song is awkward is underselling the moment. It’s a blatant herald of teen angst, almost to the point of parody. But its played absolutely straight.

The film places its themes on the table, practically spelling everything out. Through flashback, we see a young version of Jim watch his father take off, abandoning him and his mother. Since then, the void has left Jim desperate for a father figure. Unfortunately, the only adult male in his life is Delbert, who the film has firmly established cannot be a father figure because of how unforgivably dorky he is. How could someone as cool as Jim possibly respect someone as horribly uncool as Delbert?

Silver is the first role model Jim ever encounters. He’s strong, knowledgeable, confident, and he appreciates adventure. He's everything Jim wants to be. If it weren't for the fact that Silver was a treacherous pirate, only biding his time until a violent mutiny, everything would be golden.

Because the novel was narrated from Jim's perspective, we're never certain where Silver's priorities lay. There's a great duality to the man, being both a loyal mentor and a treacherous backstabber. His intentions and desires were eternally in flux, changing at a moment's notice. He's impulsive, changing his priorities based on hunger, opportunity, and scorn. If forced to choose between riches and Jim, it's never clear what he would decide.

The original Treasure Island did feature a father/son dynamic. Jim finally finds the hero he's been looking for all along. Silver sees a reflection of himself. He's willing to share a lifetime of knowledge and experience. If not for greed and corruption, they’d both have a happy ending.

This interplay was one element of each character, defining their interaction, especially in the book's first half. It complicated Silver's motivations. It made him question his buccaneer allegiances and actions, making him dangerously unpredictable to hero and villain alike. It made Jim vulnerable and uncertain, willing to ignore red flags. Even after learning of Silver's true nature, he continues to trust the man, preferring a version of the truth he wishes to be true. 

Disney's film plays up the dynamic to the point of irritation. The relationship is punctuated with heartfelt moments so repetitive and cloyingly saccharine. You fully expect Jim and Silver to grab a pair of fishing poles and enjoy a day on the lake.

Treasure Planet takes a supplementary aspect of the novel and turns it into a primary focus. Doing so undercuts the ruthlessness of Silver as an adversary. We never feel afraid of him. We never question his loyalties or fear what he's capable of. We know he'll never truly harm Jim. We see him exclusively as a paternal figure who is momentarily tempted and led astray.

Upon arrival at Treasure Planet, our heroes encounter B.E.N., a robot castaway. He was a crewmate on the ship that left the titular treasure of Treasure Planet before being abandoned. As a precaution, his hard drive was removed from his chassis. Doing so rendered B.E.N. incapable of telling anyone about the treasure's location.

Comedian Martin Short voices B.E.N., lending his frenetic delivery to the frazzled robot. Short’s entire schtick is playing bombastic, over-the-top characters. The outlandish attitudes are frequently paired with outlandish body language. Something completely lost in animation.

The effectiveness of Short's style of comedy is contingent on what it’s paired against. Sometimes it's in reaction to something mundane, making his enthusiasm seem ridiculous in its excessiveness. Other times, he's a broad, farcical character to compliment another comedian’s dry wit. Either way, he needs a straight man to pair off against. He's like a liquid; he needs a structured vessel to contain him.

Here, Short is just aping and mugging to no one in particular. The story doesn’t need a comic relief character at this juncture. Tensions are high, and the conflict is imminent. Trying to inject humor here only undercuts the intensity. How can one be on the edge of their seats when the film is encouraging everyone to laugh?

This of course assumes B.E.N. is actually funny. Most of his dialogue is just yelling. Not clever dialogue. Not plays on words. Not humorous observations. He just screams at Jim and flails his arms. It’s framed as though its supposed to be funny, but he doesn’t actually say anything humorous.

B.E.N. isn’t telling jokes, B.E.N. is acting insane and irrational. Being a piece of machinery, his temperamental attitude is caused by a hardware malfunction. His literal state of being is that he’s physically damaged, unable to control his actions or volume. He’s a liability to the heroes, and no one likes him. But because he’s an essential element of the plot development, no one can ask him to go away either. Everyone is forced to tolerate him at the story’s insistence. They don’t think he’s endearing, or charming, or quirky. They think he’s annoying.

And that’s the danger of putting a deliberately annoying character in your script. No matter how well written they are, an annoying character will always be annoying. If the characters in the film think he’s a pain to deal with, the audience feels just the same.

Treasure Planet makes many changes from its source, both thematic and stylistic. But is it all worth it? Despite the outdated CGI animation, the visuals are stunning. Putting an 18th century frigate in outer space could easily be irredeemably ridiculous. But Disney's animators pull it off. There’s something magnificent about seeing a tall ship sailing across a cosmic background. Seeing the sails illuminate, revealing themselves to be solar cells is a clever bit of whimsy. A long zoom shot, revealing a crescent moon to actually be a high-orbit dockyard is genius in both design and reveal.

But story wise, its nothing more than a gimmick. There is no scene in the movie where the contrasting genres work to the film’s advantage. Some scenes are a standard pirate-themed adventure which incidentally take place in space. Other scenes are plain science fiction which happen to feature pirates. The concept never comes to full fruition. It’s one story made from two different patterns, sewn together with glaring seams.

This would be bad way to treat any swashbuckler story. But this is an adaptation of Treasure Island, the definitive swashbuckler. The filmmakers looked at the luminary example of an entire subgenre, and rejected it as a concept. They saw a long-standing, popular concept, and felt obligated to jazz it up. As though audiences would never watch a Disney movie about pirates.

The grand irony involves Disney’s live-action department. Seven months after the release of Treasure Planet, Disney released Pirates of the Caribbean, a much more traditional pirate film. There were fantasy/horror elements to it, but nothing out of place in a pirate feature.

The difference is night and day. One movie tried to hide behind a flimsy mask. The other integrated new ideas, creating a mixture of the classic and the modern. Pirates of the Caribbean was not only acclaimed and popular, it and its ensuing sequels were among the highest grossing films of the decade. Treasure Planet was the biggest financial loss in Disney Animation history.

While the idea of pirates may have been outdated in 2002, it wasn't irrelevant. It only needed a fresh take to differentiate itself from the abundance of predecessors. The right characters, the right story, and the right ideas could revive the concept. Injecting the genre with an artificial serum of attitude wasn’t going to do that.

The authenticity and heart that defined Disney’s golden ages were now scorn-worthy flaws. The films of the new millennium were attempting to distinguish themselves as a modern Disney. Disney had to be cool at all costs. It would be the defining flaw of Disney Animation for the remainder of the decade.

They did so with films that were less traditional and more postmodern. They were referential, sardonic, parodic, and tongue-in-cheek. All of this at the expense of honesty, integrity, and unfortunately, craftsmanship. It was the beginning of Disney's third Dark Age.

Treasure Planet attempts to reinvigorate a timeless adventure story by removing the timeless elements. Instead of a story for for the ages, it's a story for one specific age, which has long passed. The classic seafaring adventure is crammed with superficial sci-fi elements that offer no benefit. The characters are poorly designed, poorly written, and sometimes annoying. The visuals are great, but hardly compensate for the bevy of flaws. There's a big 'X' marked on this movie, and it doesn't indicate a buried treasure chest.

Beauty and the Beast Fantasia The Lion King Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs Cinderella Alice in Wonderland Sleeping Beauty Mulan The Little Mermaid Aladdin Lilo & Stitch The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh Pinocchio The Jungle Book Robin Hood The Sword in the Stone Bambi The Emperor’s New Groove The Hunchback of Notre Dame The Great Mouse Detective 101 Dalmatians The Three Caballeros Lady and the Tramp The Rescuers Down Under Atlantis: The Lost Empire The Fox and the Hound Fantasia 2000 Peter Pan Dumbo Hercules The Black Cauldron Melody Time Oliver & Company Treasure Planet Tarzan The Rescuers Pocahontas Saludos Amigos The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad The Aristocats Dinosaur Fun and Fancy Free Make Mine Music

[scatterbrain-and-jinx]

Scatterbrain, also known as Turquoise-Rosey, "Tu-Qu Ro", and Mivera Alto: [20]

Mivera was born into a wealthy Zaunite Piltover family as the youngest and brightest child. At the age of 6, she was a skilled tinker and engaged in all sorts of programs and projects at her school. But when she accidentally caused an explosion that nearly killed her mother, her parents stopped supporting her dream of becoming an inventor. This resulted in Mivera becoming rebellious as she matured, lashing out at her parents and sister, causing problems at school and in public. When her parents finally had enough of her antics, her father disowned her, causing the young teen to snap and attack him, and she was sent to a mental institution. After two years living in the institution, suffering from mental breakdowns, hearing voices, seeing hallucinations of her parents, and spiraling down the path of insanity, Mivera lost herself and became scatterbrained, hence her new nickname. When the nurses were giving her medication, Mivera broke out and never returned to the institution or her family. Now, out in the streets living her best life eating junk food and dark chocolate, inventing her personal weapons of mass destruction, and reading news about Jinx and her own crimes, Scatterbrain doesn't plan to ever return to her old life soon, not even after running into her older sister after helping Jinx with a "prank" and getting arrested. Light tan skin, crazy light blue eyes, and long, flowy and soft turquoise-to-pink twin pigtails. She dresses in a "rebel" fashion, and wears pastel gothic makeup. Although she unhinged and unpredictable, Scatterbrain would get a "tick" once in a while, her old self resurfacing, uncharacteristically sobbing or reflecting on what she did wrong. Scatterbrain met Jinx again after being escaping from prison and they soon started dating, falling into a "I love you and I trust you to never aim a gun at my face" type of romance. She invented a pair of rocket roller skates that help her move faster when escaping from the police, a hextech katana that slices through almost any material called "Chopper", twin laser pistols that have adjustable scopes and fuzzy dice AND both can expand and merged into a sniper rifle called "Twinsies"/"Birdie", a portable machine gun named "Tick", and a hextech rocket/missile launcher that she named "Pig Fryer".[Bisexual/Asexual] (League of Legends/Arcane)

[pumpkinov]

Where the Dust Settles

This chapter is a little weird, but there's lots of things I need to set up. Bear with me, I promise, we're heading somewhere with this!

You can read Chapter 1 here

Portia Collins, the sole survivor of Vault 111 has lost more than most. With the Institute defeated, she sets her sights to the next big jobs - unification of the Commonwealth wastelands and the large warship docked at the Boston Airport. More work for the General of the Minutemen, who is finding herself increasingly alone as her companions move on with their lives. John Hancock, the Ghoul Mayor of Goodneighbour is struggling to find his footing in the new political climate of the Commonwealth, and is finding a surprisingly vocal supporter in his local Minuteman General.

Chapter 2. I can hold a grudge like nobody’s business

There is an important meeting, Piper chain-smokes and Hancock climbs a heavy set of stairs.

He fucking showed.

“Well, fuck me.” Portia exhaled in surprise, as the red figure approaching her across the quiet square held his arms out wide. There was an interesting leap in her chest as he grinned. Fuck he was smug. But it was hard not to smile back, despite the almost constant urge to hit him.

Mayor Hancock was an anomaly.

“Good morning, General.” He whipped his tricorn hat off his head and held it to his chest as he dropped into an exaggerated bow.

“Good morning, Mayor.” Portia offered him a cigarette, which he accepted. They stood in silence for a moment, their breath fogging between them. It was still in the square, it had snowed overnight and the ground beneath their feet was covered in a soft powder that would no doubt turn to a dirty, watery sludge by midday. The air was crisp, and Portia’s nose and cheeks were already turning red. The sun lay in bars across the ground as it rose through the buildings.

Hancock exhaled smoke. “You’re surprised to see me, aren’t you?”

Portia raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t pick you for an early riser.”

He shrugged, flicking the ash off the tip of his cigarette. “I don’t sleep much.” He paused, then grinned wickedly, “Bed serves a different purpose these days.”

Portia opened her mouth to scold him, but was interrupted.

“General?” She turned to see Preston walking down the steps of the Rexford. He was in better shape than she expected, honestly. He had a dark hickey on the side of his neck, but his eyes weren’t bloodshot and he wasn’t swaying.

“Good night, Preston?” Portia asked, reaching to adjust his scarf. He grinned broadly, and batted her hand away.

Hancock snickered, and pitched his cigarette butt into the gutter. “Should we get this freakshow on the road?”

Preston hummed in agreement, slinging his laser musket across his shoulder.

Portia’s rifle was strapped to her back, her pistol strapped to one leg, and her combat knife strapped to the other. She eyed Hancock, who appeared weaponless. He waved an arm towards the entrance of Goodneighbour. “After you!”

The streets of Boston were quiet this early in the morning. The regular patrols of Minutemen and traders helped keep the path between Diamond City and Goodneighbour relatively safe, though all three kept their heads on a swivel as they made their way through the shell of the city.

Hancock moved slightly ahead of them, and Preston fell into step next to her.

“How did you convince him to come?” He asked, quietly. Preston had spent a good hour trying to convince the mayor to accompany them to the council meeting the day before.

Portia shrugged. “I appealed to his better nature.”

Preston hummed a little, “You wore him down.” Portia knocked her shoulder against him, causing him to sway a little. He grinned back at her, before adjusting his hat. “I’m glad he’s here. I know he’s a pain in the ass, but-”

“He’s a wildcard.” Portia muttered. “I’m not sure if he’s going to dazzle them all, or stab them all.”

Preston shrugged. “It’s the Commonwealth, General. That’s a risk we’re always taking.”

Hancock stopped, spinning on his boot heel. A shotgun had appeared in his hands, and his face was serious. “If you two are done gossiping, we have company.” A bullet whistled past Portia’s side, and she heard the garbled cry of the supermutant who had shot it. The angry green face attached to the cry peered out from the side of a building just up ahead. Portia whipped her rifle off her back, as Preston cranked his laser musket. She aimed and fired off a shot, clipping the mutant in the shoulder. He cried and stumbled, before letting another bullet fly, at Hancock this time. The mutant’s aim was off, and Preston dispatched him with ease.

Another mutant appeared in the doorway of the building, running headlong at Hancock. She heard his rough laugh, before he unloaded a shell into the green creature’s face. He disappeared from her view in an explosion of blood and gore, both Portia and Preston breaking into a run to reach him. He was standing over the headless body of the mutant, his face pulled into a snarl that made him almost unrecognizable. Portia reached for him, her fingers brushing his coat.

“Hancock, are you-” She faltered a little, his eyes were wide and wild. There was a flash of memory, Portia; fresh out of the deep freeze and entering Goodneighbour, Hancock sliding a knife between the ribs of a man who had threatened her. The face was the same. Hancock took a breath, and adjusted his hat. The fierce look started to melt out of his eyes as he looked at her, his breath rising hot in front of his face in the crisp air.

“I’m fine, sister. And you two?”

“We’re fine.” Portia realised she was still holding onto his sleeve, and released it. Preston clapped Hancock on the shoulder.

“Excellent spotting, sorry we were late on the draw.”

Hancock smirked a little, looking more like himself. “Lucky I have my cat-like reflexes, Garvey.” Preston grinned ruefully, “Look I’ll take that. I’ll spot the next ones.”

“Good man.” Hancock gripped Preston’s wrist tightly, eyes shining.

The rest of the way to Diamond City was uneventful.

There were two familiar figures standing at the gates to the city. Piper was smoking furiously, pacing back and forward. Nick Valentine stood straight and still, watching for their arrival. Portia’s chest warmed at the sight of the pair. Preston raised a hand in greeting, and when they were in earshoot Piper pitched her cigarette and broke out into a jog, colliding with Portia and smacking a loud kiss on the side of her head. “Blue!” Portia laughed and wrapped her arms around Piper, lifting her feet a little off the ground. Piper reached for her battered red hat to stop it sliding off her head, “Put me down!” she shrieked. Portia released her as they moved forward, keeping a hand on Piper’s arm as she staggered a little.

They reached Nick, who shook Preston’s hand warmly before enfolding Portia in a hug. His metal hand pushed briefly between her shoulder blades before he released her. His yellow eyes landed on Hancock, who stood slightly aside from them.

“It’s good to see you, John.”

“Likewise, Nicky.” Hancock rasped, his eyes crinkling again at the corners. Piper pursed her lips, another cigarette already clamped between them. Portia squeezed her hand, before turning her attention to Preston.

“Are we ready for this, Garvey?”

Preston met her gaze. He looked nervous, but resolute. He nodded. “Yes General, I think we are.”

Portia smiled a little, trepidation twisting through her stomach. “Right, let’s get this over with.”

Hancock hesitated at the steps. He watched the welcome party climb the stairs ahead of him, talking excitedly. He took a deep breath - the place looked almost unchanged. His sense of smell wasn’t the strongest these days, but he could still make out the smell of Takashi’s noodles, the scent of paint and dirt. Diamond fuckin’ City. He never thought he’d come back here. He took a deep breath, and stepped onto the first step. The rest were easier to take.

McDonough’s old office had been stripped bare. There were chairs gathered in a semicircle, with Piper set up at the desk in the corner. There were settlers clumped in groups around the room, Hancock stood to the side, leaning against the wall, observing. Trying not to notice the bloodstain in the corner where the synth (his brother?) had died a few months previously. The floor was wet from the melting snow off everyone’s shoes. His eyes followed Portia as she moved around the room, greeting people. She was smiling, touching people, remembering names and faces. He didn’t really recognise any of the people in this room, except for Wiseman, who ran The Slog. Their eyes met, but there was no flicker of recognition in the old ghoul’s eyes. Wiseman remembered a different John, in a different lifetime. Eventually Portia arrived at the front of the room, and it fell quiet. She cleared her throat, and glanced up. Her eyes met Hancock’s for a moment. He felt a smile stretch the corner of his mouth up, and she bit down on her bottom lip, smiling in response. There was warmth in those eyes, despite how cold she could be. Lady will be the absolute death of me he thought idly, his eyes drifting down her frame as she started speaking.

“Welcome, everyone. This is the first time in a long time we’ve had a meeting like this. The people in this room represent the settlements of the Commonwealth, and for anyone in this room who may not know me, I am General Collins, leader of the Commonwealth Minutemen. This is my second in command, Preston Garvey, and I’ve bought you all here today to discuss the future of Diamond City, and the future of the Commonwealth as a whole.”

Portia had been right all along, Hancock mused to himself, this meeting had been important. And deeply, deathly boring. They discussed trade routes, infrastructure, and people brought up grievances both imagined and real. He tried to listen, he really did, but similar to his brief foray into education he found his mind drifting. He slid a box out of his pocket, and placed a mentat on his tongue. As he was trying to surreptitiously close the box again, he glanced up and caught Piper’s eye. She frowned at him disapprovingly, and he fought against the childish urge to poke his tongue out at her. He glanced out the window and saw that the sun was already heading back down again in the sky, how the fuck was it late afternoon already? His gaze fell down to the market below them, watching the small smudges that were the citizens of Diamond City go about their business. It looked the same from when he was younger. Except it wasn’t the same. Not anymore.

Portia was still standing in the front of the semicircle of chairs. She had tied her long brown hair back off her face while Hancock had been staring out the window, and he realised he’d never seen her with her hair up. The back and sides of her head were shaved. He wondered idly how those shaved parts would feel against the palms of his hands and grinned quietly to himself. He felt the mentat starting to work as it melted in his mouth, he was finding the words coming from the General a lot easier to follow. She was discussing the upcoming election for the new mayor of Diamond City.

“I think we’ve probably covered enough for one day,” she smiled, rubbing the back of her hand across her eyes briefly. “We’ll meet up again tomorrow, to discuss the Diamond City election a little more before this meeting is completely adjourned. Are there any questions before we call it a day?”

There were murmurs as a negative response to her question from the rest of the settlers, but Hancock found himself pushing his upper body off against the wall and stepping forward.

“I have a question, actually.”

Portia’s eyes met his from across the room. Her eyes were no longer warm, they were tired and guarded, but she still inclined her head.

“The floor recognises Mayor Hancock, of Goodneighbour.”

Heads turned to stare at him, and he found himself smiling, not in a particularly pleasant way. He fixed his stare on Geneva, sitting in one the chairs closest to Portia, his idiot brother’s old assistant.

“I’d like to know what plans are in place to remove the Anti Ghoul Decree of 2282?” He swirled the mentat around his mouth languidly, feeling it spike in the back of his skull. “Since both myself and Wiseman here are standing in the former mayor’s office, I would assume it has been retired at least in a non official capacity?”

Geneva looked at Portia, then Preston, then met his gaze. “Diamond City currently has only a small council, no changes to policy can be made at this time.”

Hancock raised a bony ridge where an eyebrow would be. “And is there discussion to remove it once there is a new mayor?”

“I - uh -” Geneva trailed off, looking back at Portia for assistance. Portia sighed, and stepped forward.

“That’s an excellent question Mayor, let’s table it and add it to the agenda to discuss tomorrow?” Her eyes met his again, this time pleading.

“I’d really like an answer now.” He smiled. She took another step forward.

“Mayor I don’t believe anyone has the capacity to answer this -”

“It’s a simple question,” he stepped backwards, opening his arms wide and looking around the room. “I just want to know if there’s any plans to allow the ghoul’s who used to live here to come home? The ones who survived, of course.”

The silence was heavy in the room. No one would look at him except Wiseman, whose face was emotionless.

“Good to know.” Hancock returned his gaze to Portia, and smiled. “Good to know. That’s all I had General, thank you.”

[solesfalloutstuff]

Fallout 4 OC: Caleb

Caleb is a former raider that got caught up in some good old fashioned human experimentation performed by the Institute, resulting in his physical abilities being enhanced but his mental stability and previous memories being rather fucked over.

Physical: 5'8", lean physique, platinum blonde hair in an undercut, natural eyes are blue but the left eye is replaced with a synth eye. Some facial scarring from Yao guai attack with significant scarring over left eye and some scarring from laser blast. White.

Notable skills: Good lockpicker and hacker; proficient with robotics; skilled hunter; exceptional runner. Novice cult leader.

Combat style: Sniper at range, pistols up close, and knives up close-er. Some skill with explosives.

Personality: Typically appears cool and collected, distant in "professional" relationships. Is deeply spiritual and a devout follower of his own 'god', eventually recruiting others into his spiritual group (cult). Holds a deep hatred for the Institute and dedicates a good deal of his efforts towards messing up everything for them. Has severe issues recalling any pre-Institute memory. Will sleep with virtually any consenting adult outside his family.

SPECIAL

Strength: 8

Perception: 8

Endurance: 6

Charisma: 5

Intelligence: 9

Agility: 5

Luck: 3