#inthisfire-ifindrain

[rotting-steel]

@inthisfire-ifindrain liked for a starter.

An abandoned suit of power armor in the wastes was a valuable haul, even if you didn't have a core to take it all a single piece could set you up for quite awhile. That slumped over posture which was a dead giveaway for an empty suit, practically everyone knew it, and that was what stood in front of the stranger right now. It made no noise nor made any movement, the suit also seemed to be protecting a bag full of goodies, even the morally neutral may be tempted to take a snag.

It could be ill intent or curiosity but as the stranger got closer the suit suddenly jumped to life. In one swift movement it slung a plasma rifle from its back around and aimed it forward at hip level.

"Sorry, but I've the same rules as brothels. No touching unless you pay."

[cicero-the-assassin]

@inthisfire-ifindrain

"Open your eyes."

'Satisfying' couldn't begin to describe what Cicero felt in this very moment. Those sharp eyes locking with dulled yet pained ones as he led Fiona from behind up a small hill. Hands over her eyes.

'A surprise' he told her. A surprise for his 'favorite girl'. Unknowingly to her at this moment, all this wouldn't be possible if not for her. Her trusting nature- her yearning for love and attention from those who could lift her stature.

Cicero was a step down from Vulpes no longer, not with him being revealed to her nailed to the cross before her. Bloody and beaten- wheezing and pathetic. He much preferred him this way- sitting atop his fucking throne he deserved.

Hands no longer over her eyes, they travelled to her tiny shoulders. Claw like nails kneading into her flesh, in adoration as well as a way to keep her in place. Though he'd done everything he could to pull Fiona from her husband and right into his clutch, he was sure there could be some residual feelings left lying around in her heart somewhere. Despite his constant poison turning her against him.

"Surprise," He rumbles against her temple, his eyes never leaving his 'Master'. To Fiona, it may have been display. To Cicero, it was an affront.

'You should've known better you fuck- You should've killed me when you got the chance-

You stupid fucking cunt- now look at you. Everything that was yours-

Is mine.'

"Caesar, unfortunately, has found your husband guilty of treason. Such a sad fate, no? To be forgotten like that- you know-

The way he forgot you."

[distantpagesandpapercuts]

Drinks - from Fiona

ORDINARY THINGS THAT FEEL INTIMATE

[ drinks ] sender brings receiver a drink from a bar/their kitchen

"I didn't even know you had a place outside of the Fort."

Kira makes idle conversation, the shack they're in isn't much, but it's a little respite. Fiona had invited her, perhaps a small housewarming. Should she have brought a gift or something? Was this a Legion safehouse or something?

A moment passes and a drink is slid into her hands.

"Ah- thank you. What is it?" Kira asks cautiously, taking a sniff or two of the cup.

@inthisfire-ifindrain

[courier2lw]

[ closed starter for @inthisfire-ifindrain ]

West hadn't said anything, catching Fiona outside behind the house, praying to gods he thought she had left behind in Caeser's camps. He hadn't disturbed her at all, waited until she was done and quietly walked around to the front door again, waiting until she was back inside to "come home early". It wasn't the surprise he was willing to upset. He kissed her and just went about their usual day. Fiona said nothing about it. Neither did West.

He wasn't upset she was hiding this from him. He was upset with himself that she felt that she had to.

This wasn't the same as her occasional blood lust and ruthlessness. It was a slightly different shade than West's could be and he didn't fault her for that. Her learned hatred of ghouls and synths was something he didn't tolerate, arguing with her over that "Legion thinking". West could compartmentalize and pick and choose what to love about her and what to ignore and what to show her was a better way of living...

But something like this he felt was his fault. How much did she really trust him? Maybe she was afraid of him, in a way, not that he would harm her, but that he would without love or leave her entirely.

He couldn't see a world where that would happen. He thought of it, imagining the absolute worst thing Fiona could do, reminding him of her past, her 'old ways' but it was always Fiona leaving him because he couldn't handle or accept it. That he was too weak. Not the other way around.

The book he had found because he'd gone looking for it in some old abandoned library he liked to scour on occasion. The Dewey Decimal system was a bit hard to suss out with the faded signs, but he managed. West didn't want to just confront Fiona about what he'd seen that day, her little ritual that she probably did when she knew he'd be gone for a stretch. That felt like some kind of betrayal or secret, too.

"Hey, babe?" West called to his wife one morning as she had ventured out of the bedroom, letting him dig in the dresser, under his clothes, pulling out a book wrapped in torn fabric. A present. It was a book of Greek and Roman mythology.

"I found you something yesterday."

[catmanradio]

[ Send “cloth blindness” for a starter where my muse is wearing a blindfold. Sent by @inthisfire-ifindrain. featuring @standingxbear ]

"You dumb sons of bitches, you think you're hot shit? I know you! I was you!" Cary had been going on for a good while in the middle of the raider camp, tied up and blindfold. Of course he had worked through his gag and if there had been any raiders left alive, Cary probably wouldn't be.

Standing Bear needed a minute. It was one thing to take on a gang of raider with your friend. Fiona was more willing to get her hands dirty than West these days, sometimes Betty tagged along, but he was lock step with West about the research and clinic and all those things about modded guns and robots that Standing Bear, and probably Fiona, too, kind of stop listening to when they went on...

It was one thing to kill a bunch of raiders. It was another to find your teenage best friend their prisoner. Someone he hadn't seen in nearly 40 years. Apart from a little gravely texture, Cary Robinson sounded exactly the same. The news that he had been a raider was a little surprising. But... after the White Legs War, well...

Standing Bear was overwhelmed. Would Cary even want to know him? He had found Two Rivers years ago... His own sister didn't want to remember that life. Nevermind he'd spent 30 years looking for her. Nevermind that he loved her, that he knew she still loved her big brother. You couldn't just erase that. You couldn't just forget that. Bear wrote to her. But she never wrote back.

"You think I haven't killed? C'mon, I could take any of you in a knife fight. Bunch of chicken shit punks... Hello?" Finally Cary figured out he wasn't actually speaking to anyone, hands tied behind him, ankles chained to a large piece of arched rebar in a road side slab of concrete in the middle of the camp. It was getting dark, the fire cast odd shadows on Cary's face.

Standing Bear cleaned off his knives against the dirty bandana he took from one of the corpses. A little too diligently. He was nervous. No, he was scared of getting rejected again. He was scared of Cary not remembering him, or their band, their friendship. He was scared of seeing that same cold look on his sister's face: I have a new life now, why should I need you?

"Talk to him," Standing Bear whispered to Fiona, off handedly as if he were too busy to do so. Normally, he would have insisted, or just been the one to handle the sociable situation as Fiona was a little more blunt. "He's a friend. But-- Nevermind, just make sure he's not a threat."

[cold-steel-eyes]

❝  we’re gonna have to keep ice on that.  ❞

soft caring sentence compilation

He tried stifling a pained hiss through clenched teeth. The ice pack she had placed on his bruised knee had caused a sharp, stinging sensation, but thankfully it was only for a brief moment. The older man had managed to trip over some loose carpeting while he was fiddling with his pip-boy, the accident resulted in an injured courier and a panicked Fiona to come rushing in, prepared for the worst as soon as she heard him cry out so suddenly. Initially, he tried to laugh it off, reassuring her that it was nothing he couldn’t handle, but the willful woman was having none of his excuses.

“I’m sorry about that Fiona, I didn’t mean to frighten you. It was my own fault for not minding my step. I should have been more careful…” He chastised himself with a surprisingly soft-spoken voice. His embarrassment was noticeable by the red shade on his cheeks and ears. The faint flicker of shame was visible in his lowered eyes. But that flicker was then extinguished and instead was replaced with pure gratitude. 

“Still, you have my thanks.” 

[the-last-command]

5 11 14 24

5 - would you hug your muse?

I would certainly hug Ares. That sad and angry ghoul needs some hugs every now and then.  

11 - fluff or angst?

I really love writing Angst. Then again, I also love writing fluff. So frankly, I enjoy writing both subjects. Sometimes, sweetness and bitterness go hand and hand.

14 - ghosts or monsters?

Honestly, I’ve had more experiences with Ghosts.

Simply, The Law of Conservation of Mass states matter cannot be created or destroyed. It can, however, change forms. I think this applies to humans, to our souls.

That's all I have to say about that.

24 - share a funny story

Years back, my brother and his friend decided to detonate tons of old, possibly unstable fireworks. I was invited along, as we dressed up in military camo and proceeded with our “mission”. That mission involved detonating them in a nearby rock quarry. We pretended we were Army Rangers, sent to destroy a terrorist encampment.

Sneaking through suburbia and the city park, which by "sneaking", I mean we basically did this. We piled the fireworks underneath some sheet metal and soon lit the fuses. Running like Hell, we hid behind cover as the fireworks detonated. The force of which sent the sheet-metal flying through the air, landing further down in the quarry. The sound of was loud, louder in the rock quarry too.

We laughed. We celebrated. We soon heard the sirens of the sheriff’s department. Everyone in town heard the explosion, everyone called the sheriff’s department.

We started running like Hell through the woods. The sirens were closing in and we were screaming and running. Eventually, we reached our house and my brother’s friend went home later.

Tomorrow, at school, everyone was talking about it. Hell, it was even reported in the town's newspaper.

It was a really boring town. It kinda sucked there, like a lot.

[ratherxintense]

Huh? What? I'm awake, I swear! - from Fiona

lack of sleep starters [open]

"Let me take you to bed, beloved."

Maybe the book was a bore, but the hour was late regardless. Fiona needed some rest; she had spent hours in the desert sun, managing their garden, and had then talked her way into helping him cook. Better for her to finally rest while he turned his focus to the stack of new reports on his desk upstairs.

Setting the book face-down, mid-chapter, Vulpes leaned in to lift Fiona in his arms.

"No more work for you." A quick kiss and then, apologetically. "I would like to say the same for myself, but not tonight."

[seraphimazriel]

A very late birthday present for @inthisfire-ifindrain ! A bit of a standard ref sheet and then seven different outfits! [And a censored version of Fiona in her birthday suit. ;) ]

[hellcab]

🔪

{ The man was burnt to a crisp. More ashes than burnt flesh at this point. The smell of burnt flesh loomed over the area. Stomachs were turned. }

{ Yet Roth acted like nothing was out of ordinary. Eating his iguana bits, Roth looked upon the horror. His appetite clearly wasn't disturbed. Coincidentally, Roth was familiar with the man. He was a bully. A braggart. An unfaithful man who slept around. }

{ He also had drama with Roth. Something about cheating at cards. Gambling debts. }

{ Now he was dead. Burnt alive, when green flames were summoned from within. Clearly, the death was unnatural. Roth was there, with his little green notebook. He said something before. Some chant. Some strange incantation. }

"You want a bite?"

{ Roth asked Fiona, who was nearby him during the entire ritual. He could care less if she heard him. He expected her to take this to heart. Soon his nose started bleeding. Annoyed, Roth cared for it. }

[brokenreality--x]

Which Aesthetic™ colour are you?

    lavender

You have a soft heart. Your home is full of little sentimental nick-nacks you've made, been given, or picked up on your travels, and anyone who enters is immediately put at ease by your comforting energy. Your friends know they can turn to you for a cup of tea and a tight hug, or, if necessary, a kick in the ass. At times, you find yourself tending to others more than you do yourself, and you often take on more than you can bear of others' sadness. Just remember-- you are worth the same kindness you show the people around you. They would want nothing less for you.

tagging : @courier2lw , @thx-lost-yxars, @inthisfire-ifindrain​ 

[cicero-the-assassin]

Send ⌚️ from fiona

Send ⌚️ to interrupt my muse while they’re working

She was indeed a nosy type of thing.

"Prying eyes beg to be freed from their stems, Fiona," His voice sort of rumbles quietly through the air, cutting through the heavy whines of the putrid man before him.

It's obvious he's been working on this one for days. Removing things, keeping them uncomfortable as possible. Currently, this poor being is bound by rope on the concrete floor. Bared knees supporting the full weight, hog tied and neck stretched unnaturally backward. Angling his face towards his captor. A face slowly becoming unrecognizable through the pus filled wounds.

This wasn't Cicero's job. Cicero's job was to kill. This was sport.

"Fiona-" His head turns, eyes boring straight through her. His free hand patting his knee.

"Come have a seat. Perhaps a woman's intuition is just what I need."

@inthisfire-ifindrain

[distantpagesandpapercuts]

“ Don't give up, try harder. ” - From Adira

5-Word Sentence Prompts

"Listen lady- I'm a scientist at heart. Not a miracle worker. It's not so much a matter of 'trying harder' as it is 'beyond my scope of supplies and equipment'. Besides-"

Kira suddenly drops a hot beaker, chemicals and all into the sink and wipes her hands of it. Figuratively and literally. She's frustrated.

"It's all shit- all fucking shit- I need a break. I'll regroup, see what I can do better. If you want something done right, ya do it yourself yeah? I'll make a run myself, see if I can find better equipment that can identify this 'goo' you've brought me. Real strange it is though, I can't make heads or tails of it."

She taps her cheek repeatedly with the tip of her finger.

@inthisfire-ifindrain

[courier2lw]

OH LOOKIT @inthisfire-ifindrain 😉😍🙃

PS if you guys want me to make your character in my Fallout Shelter, let me know LOL

[thx-lost-yxars]

Post your picrew! Link Here

Muse: Scratch.

Tagged by: @brokenreality--x {{ Thanks! }}

: @cajunspoons​ / @distantpagesandpapercuts​ / @cicero-the-assassin​ / @redheadrecon​ / @grandzealot​ / @daggersandsparks​ / @inthisfire-ifindrain​ and whoever sees this post! 

[dimasexual]

@inthisfire-ifindrain​ sent...

❛ what’s a life threatening quest without a bit of music? ❜ 

“Well, I thought we were going to be stealthy about this operation... So...”

Faraday hoped there wasn’t any one or any thing currently in the giant warehouse. Although he’d known Fiona long enough now that he didn’t think he should have been surprised at this. Both her and West had a tendency to be a little... rash about certain things. Maybe even reckless. But West was a doctor and a good repairman. And Fiona made the best damn cookies he’d ever tasted.

“Just until we’re out of the building?” He tried asking gently.