#sosu figure

[shatinn]

Fallout 4 - Merry Christmas 2023

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

[irradiated-radiance]

Woe, angst be upon yee

Think about this plot for more than a minute and it'll start to fall apart probably but just uhhh please don't think about it too much😞🙏

So Sosu has been frozen for over 210 years, they came from a world that wasn't as irradiated as the Commonwealth is currently, so, why not give them radiation poisoning?

They feel fine when they first step out but even still, they can just feel things are different, everything, even the air, feels contamimated. Over the many years, most of the radiation has disappeared, people of the Commonwealth have grown a tolerance to the low amount of radiation that still persists, but Sosu being completely new to this world has no such tolerance and even with a radiation suit slowing the process, the poisoning still seeps into them, slowly starting to kill them. At first it's barely noticeable but the closer they get to their goal, the weaker they seem to get.

First true problem presents itself, the Dimly-lit desert- I mean the Glowing Sea. Even with the power armor taking most of the radiation, by the time they get to the insitute, they're severely ill. The fatigue, the effects of the radiation, it's all obvious. Despite never knowing them it pains the Father to see them in such a way, perhaps it was cruel to let them out of their frozen prison.

Nonetheless the institute is smart, has people to deal with what radaway can't heal, and so with time Sosu is cured but it's made clear to them; any trips to Commonwealth are risky, simply put their body can't handle the radiation.

Obviously there are companions that want the Institute destroyed, but I wonder how they'd react to this? Going off of the assumption that they're close to Sosu, just how willing would they be to write their death sentence by demanding them to destroy the only thing that can help them stay alive? The thing that'd let the companion keep their close friend, maybe their lover, alive? How willing would they be to sacrifice the person whose been there for them this entire time, despite Sosu having their own struggles to deal with?

And with X6? Oh with X6 just think about it. Time passes and he's, dare he say, attached to the future leader. Slowly, without his notice, he's started to truly care. How would he take it, hearing other companions, or faction leaders, demand that Sosu does the "right thing" and destroy the Institute, destroy the only place where they can roam free without a hazmat suit, without having to worry about radiation?

He'd be kinda angry about it I think

[fuzzydreamin]

OC Interview

Got tagged by @krokaxe @bokatan and @leavingautumn13 I've already done this for Nora and Al, but I figured I'd do it for some of my other characters... So, Nate and Jack below.

Name: Nate Sosu Nickname/Alias: Charmer (Railroad) Gender: (slightly GNC but mostly in private) Cis man (he/him) Star sign: Aquarius (February 18, 2045) Height: 6’0” Orientation: Bi + poly Nationality: American (white) Favourite fruit: Cherries and Pineapple Favourite season: Summer Favourite flower: Dandelions Favourite scent: Grass Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate: Coffee Average hours of sleep: Not enough. He has trouble sleeping due to PTSD. Dog or cat person: Dog person, because he loves to play with them. Dream trip: Nate's the kind of person who cares less for a location specifically but more for who he is with while visiting. He'd love to go just about anywhere if he could do it with someone he cared for. He probably would have dragged the family to Nuka World when Shaun was big enough to enjoy it. Number of blankets they’d choose to sleep with: One or two, depending on how cold it is. Random fact: Considering he went right from school into the army, this man had no idea what he'd do for an actual job. Probably would have looked into mechanics. He knew he'd love to coach little league, though.

Name: Jack (No last name yet) Nickname/Alias: He doesn't have any unique nicknames or code names (yet?). Gender: Cis man (he/him) Star sign: Taurus (1st May, 2058) Height: I dunno exactly yet, but he's quite a big boy. Over 6ft for sure. Orientation: Gay Nationality: American (white) Favourite fruit: Cranberries and Blackberries Favourite season: Winter Favourite flower: The kind that grow on melon and gourd plants. Favourite scent: Petrichor Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate: Tea Average hours of sleep: 6-9 hours, depending on the time of year and if he needs to get up earlier to feed his chickens or something. He'd happily sleep in more if he could. Probably the best sleeper of my OC's. Dog or cat person: Either. He can't own a dog though, so I guess it defaults to cat person. Dream trip: Jack travelled all over every corner of Appalachia a lot during the years after getting out of vault 76, and doesn't have much incentive to want to go anywhere else, since he had so little life experience before going in and so much to do after getting out. He doesn't really think about travel on a wider scale. He also can't be sure how people would react to his unique mutations, so he feels safer sticking close to home just for that alone. If you asked he'd probably say something simple and sappy like hiking up to a high, nature filled point to watch the sunrise or some shit with a very unenthused Beckett. Number of blankets they’d choose to sleep with: One. He generates a lot of body heat so he's all good on that front, and his house tends to be pretty cozy. Random fact: He came from a large family, and several of them did survive past the bombs. Still figuring out if he ever actually meets any of them again though.

[techmomma]

whilst I am sick in bed, I want to put something out here before things start getting wild with conspiracy theories about this whole submersible debacle. because I think we will start seeing a lot of conspiracy theories starting up. some irrational, but some rational!

also note that I have no educated experience on these matters, just 33 years of living and a special interest in both the titanic and maritime disasters. so take everything with a grain of salt(water).

and while yes, if they’re dead, I genuinely think every navy and coast guard already knows and has known since like the first three hours since the sub went missing, I also genuinely do not think this was out of malicious or subversive intent, or trying to hide some big secret, and I will explain why:

underwater explosions/implosions make a very characteristic sound. this is called a bubble pulse: multiple booms being the result of initial explosion, followed by water pressure collapsing the gas bubble.

the major powers of the world, certainly the US with SOSUS/IUSS, have underwater listening stations. this is a system of underwater hydrophones and listening devices originally meant to track soviet submarine activity and underwater nuclear tests. this system was already quite powerful in the 60s, and its capabilities by now in the 2020s are classified but likely even moreso powerful. this is not me saying THEY’RE LISTENING TO US AND PUTTING TRACKERS IN US this is me saying “by the early 90s they could track a single whale over the entire Pacific for several years.”

if the submersible imploded--and I am leaning toward it not being built well enough to withstand four days of 375 atmospheres worth of pressure--then this was almost undoubtedly heard by listening stations across the atlantic

so why not tell the public?

despite having declassified much of the program, SOSUS/IUSS still has many parts that remain classified. to reveal that they heard the implosion would be to also reveal potentially delicate information such as station positions (figuring out WHERE a classified station might be based on the fact that it picked up the sound, and figuring out the minimum capabilities of such a system).

we’re already in kind of a weird proxy war with the Russians, again, so the government’s paranoia about not letting anything leak to them Russkies is, again, at an all-time high. I will state though that classified information is actually like, at the bottom of my list of “reasons why they may not have said anything immediately.”

this is an incredibly... unique situation. while I have no doubt they heard the implosion, they may not have been able to concretely confirm that it was an implosion, and an implosion of a civilian submersible, until after the story of the missing sub had already gotten out to the public. one of those “it looked like a duck and quacked like a duck so I’m pretty sure it was a goddamn duck, but I technically need to run tests to make 100% certain that it was in fact a duck, because if I’m wrong that could mean big trouble.”

in addition, to 100% confirm an implosion, typically the debris field has to be actually spotted on the sea floor, in addition to all the previous criteria being met. they have been trying to find a debris field... in a bigger, messier debris field.

they need to do this, because if there’s even a .0000000001% chance that they are still alive and you left them for dead, that would be... bad, for a lot of reasons

because the debris field has not been found and there IS a .0000001% chance that they could be alive, they still need to TREAT it as a rescue operation. this is standard procedure for like. everywhere.

even if they WERE still alive, they were going to die. every rescue party out there right now knows this. just planning to recover debris from that depth often takes months if not years of planning, let alone a sub about to run out of air in four days, max. in these situations, where the rescuers know the victims are alive but will, without fail, die, you have to still TREAT IT as if they are able to be saved (while also, quietly, making sure no one else is going to be further hurt). for the sake of the victims, their families, and the public at large. for the basic dignity of the victims. yes, out of compassion.

a comparable situation is when an EMT arrives to the scene of a traffic accident and knows, immediately, that this person, while not technically dead, is absolutely not going to make it. the EMT is still going to attempt to do everything they can to save that person, for their dignity and for the slim chance that maybe, by some miracle, they can help. you don’t give up until you know they’re actually dead. this is standard procedure and also like. a basic human compassion thing.

this is also likely why, if you’ve been watching any news about this, we’ve not seen any illustrations of “potential ways to rescue the sub,” or how authorities think they might do it, only diagrams and illustrations of where the sub might be or the depth it might be at. ideas have been floated around, but nothing concrete. because there is nothing concrete. at least, that’s what I’ve seen but that’s probably confirmation bias.

so yeah. in the coming days or years or whatever, I think it’ll come out that rescuers have known all along what happened and kept that little part quiet. but I also think it’s for the most boring, mundane reasons possible: standard procedure technicalities and human compassion while having to navigate a sticky situation between the media and the public.

[perfectlypreservedpie]

MacCready Fanfiction Recs (Fallout 4)

hey everybody, nobody asked for this but in the midst of writing fallout fanfic I was feeling a special kind of love for my favorite fo4 fanfics and wanted to recommend them in case you hadn't read 'em. Because they are VERY GOOD and writing fanfic is hard, so you gotta give props to those who sweat for your comfort fics.

I'm gonna recommend my top three finished fanfics, and then two more bonus fics that are being updated rn. As a clarifier, these are all Maccready fallout 4 fics. so. keep that in mind.

im tagging the authors and also anybody who wants to join and share their favorites too!

3. THE FATHER(S) AND THE SON(S) on ao3 by @sirmanmister

I'm going to preface this rec by saying this: there is Fanon MacCready. There is canon MacCready. And then there is ascended!whatBethesdawishesitWAS MacCready, which exists solely in this fanfiction. The characterization of Mac is so well written. He is snarky, he is vulnerable. He desperately wants to grow up but doesn't know how. He has the most sick character arc in this story!!!

It's not a romance but instead a coming of age story where the sole survivor becomes a de-facto parent to Mac. The heart of the story is about how to raise a child while you're still trying to grow up yourself. The apocalypse setting lends itself well because the Wasteland is a place where NOTHING is beautiful, but the way that M!Sosu and MacCready care for their sons is beautiful. Which makes it special and worth fighting for.

As a fun fact, I read The Road by Cormac McCarthy for class a week after finishing this fic and I was thinking about this fic the whole time because the themes of fatherhood during an apocalypse hit a lot of the same beats. Maybe my professor would kick me in the teeth by comparing fic to McCarthy, but @sirmanmister YOU ARE MY CORMAC MCCARTHY <3

2. WORKING CLASS HERO on ao3 by @bluegrasskitty

This is the kind of fic you take with you to toilet, to work, in-between classes. It will suck you in. AND THERE'S A SEQUEL TOO YOU GUYS‼️

The sole survivor in this story is the model for the Nuka Cola girl. You know the hot lady in the spacesuit? SHE HAS A BACKSTORY. AND YALL IT MADE ME WEEP. During some point of the story, I sort of stopped rooting for MacCready to be the narrator and just wanted Nora Cabot to take the reins. When I tell you I think of this oc every two to three business weeks. She's an incredible leading lady. I can't look at Nuka Girl posters in the game without thinking of Nora Cabot, my beloved.

the sequel IS SO FIRE. It's the best reimagining of 'what happened after the institute blew up' that I've ever read. im gnawing at the bars of my enclosure actually.

A VERY GOOD PLOT TWIST I CANNOT MENTION TO NEW READERS BUT IF YOU'VE READ IT YOU'LL UNDERSTAND. AND IF YOU UNDERSTAND DM ME I HAVE TO TALK TO SOMEBODY ABOUT IT. HHh.

The amount of world building that @bluegrasskitty puts into this story is insane. They ARE Beth Esda.

As a fun fact, I didn't know that radchickens were canon in fallout. I thought it was a plot device made up by this author to excuse the ability to make cake in this book, but radchickens ARE real. When I was playing Far Harbor last year, I found radchickens and thought that @bluegrasskitty manifested them into existence because they had that kind of power.

that being said, I still think this author has that kind of power.

1. Atom Bomb Baby on ao3 by @starlightwrites

I think you dropped something....my jaw.

fellas. fellas. this is my comfort fic. You ever had a comfort fic? Something you come back to at least once a year to reread to feel something? the fiction equivalent of chicken noodle soup? this is what Atom Bomb Baby is to me. this is peak literature actually. if I ever figure out book binding, im doing this one first.

Plot wise, it's a retelling of Fallout 4's main story through the perspective of MacCready. But (and im wheezing as I say this) it's also so much more THAN THAT.

this fic author understands that MacCready is not a womanizer but is in fact a touch starved loser. and they are CORRECT.

MacCready spends the entire fic like 'uuuhhhh I dunno about this one, boss!'

ITS BEST FRIENDS TO LOVERS RAHHHHHH

it also has a nostalgia feel to me too, because reading it gives me the same feeling as what it was like to play the game for the first time, years ago. maybe it's because I've read it so many times over the years, but reading it feels so satisfying.

The author spends 10 chapters at the end solely dedicated to an epilogue. I wish more stories did this. They go through the wringer in this story, and it's so deeply satisfying to see how cleanly everything gets wrapped up. MacCready and the Lola work really well together as a couple, so it's awesome to see how they work together after the battle is done.

6 out of 5 stars.

BONUS FICS !! aka fics that are still updating! I squeal with joy when I get an ao3 email about these: 1. Best Laid Plans on ao3 by @druidgroves - Georgia Tate is an incredible character and sole survivor! She was a teacher prewar, so it's really fun to get her perspective on the world. She cares a lot about education and libraries and I find her really relatable and endearing. It's a cool thing for a character in an apocalypse to care about! It also makes for fun tension with Mac, who's written as a pragmatic survivor. A great take on familiar characters and their dynamics. - And It's a great slow burn! I'm really enjoying reading it. 2. Long Time Running on ao3 by @twosides--samecoin - If you've ever thought that Med-Tek was too convenient an option for Duncan's cure, this fic was written with you in mind. - RJ goes to Canada and im obsessed with it. - If you're interested in fallout lore, specifically the bit where the U.S annexed Canada and wished that there was more info about that, I would highly recommend this fic. Twosides--samecoin put in THE WORK. The world building they do to explain Canada's side of the Great War is so fun!!! its genuinely such a thrill to read!

I'm tagging the authors who I mentioned, if you all have favorite fics (fallout or otherwise, I'd love to hear em!) Thank you for making good art!

[ghoul-foolery]

Dirty Windows | 1 | Female!SoSu x Hancock

A Soulmate AU

-

Hancock never thought he would find his soulmate. Once a common occurrence, soulmates turned into a bit of a rarity after the bombs dropped. It was to be expected when there was an influx of people getting shot in the face on a daily basis. So when Hancock discovered that he had a soulmate he was ecstatic; all of the people in the Commonwealth, and he was one of the lucky few.

Too bad his soulmate didn't want anything to do with him.

\\

Notes: I was writing a Ghoulcy Soulmate AU, and then I was suddenly drawn to this after years of not touching it. Originally posted on Ao3

\\

Hancock took a steady pull of his cigarette. Perched on the rotting sill of his open office window located in Boston’s State House, he relaxed into the gentle chill of an early spring evening. Goodneighbor had gone quiet some hours ago. He would be concerned if the town’s uncharacteristic early evening if it wasn’t so pleasant. Goodneighbor going to sleep was a rarity, and he chose to enjoy the downtime with several cigarettes and a couple canisters of jet as he attempted to master the art of blowing smoke rings. He would ultimately discover, after smoking through nearly entire pack of cigarettes, that it was a feat that required an embouchure that he didn’t have the lips for — or he was too fucking stoned to do it right.

Flicking the still smoldering butt out into the night, Hancock returned to one of the two limp couches in his designated office space, and flopped down. He reached for the mentats tin on the rubbish-covered coffee table. Why not end the night on a high note?

Hancock snickered to himself, amused at his own drug addled thoughts, “On’a high note.” Because he was high. Ha-ha.

He fumbled with the old tin, eventually managing to lodge the blunt end of his thumbnail into the lip of the lid. The little tin box opened with a satisfying pop. He placed one of the white tablets on his tongue. It immediately began to dissolve, coating his tongue in chalky grit. When he eventually swallowed he was already feeling pleasantly fuzzy. The tingling was in his toes, his fingers. It danced along his teeth and the grooves of his brain. The ghoul sank further into the couch, glossy black eyes staring up at the ceiling, his mouth ajar as his thoughts stumbled from one to the next. He thought about starting a community garden; it would be tucked away from the main thoroughfare but still sizable. He remembered and clung to an old poem from an old book he had stashed away in his desk. He pondered the essence of the whole fucking cosmos. Or perhaps not, actually. He was blitzed and keeping his thoughts in line was becoming more, and more difficult.

When he started to hear whispers he thought nothing of it. On a livelier night he would have assumed that it was regular ol’ street noise. In the uncharacteristic silence of the night he figured it was a hallucination. This wasn’t his first rodeo. He’d experienced visual and auditory hallucinations before. They weren’t typically triggered by mere mentats, mind you, but it had been a long and drug-fueled day and he was content with riding the wave until he crashed.

The whispers belonged to one person. It started as a weak, warbling, like he was hearing someone talk from behind a closed door. Then the voice abruptly grew in volume; suddenly shrill, like he was standing next to a woman as she screamed for all she was worth. 

“Nate! No, Nate, please! Honey, please wake up!”

The ghoul’s brows furrowed. The voice was frantic, desperate as she cried for help.  Phantom hands — smooth, delicate, small — swam in and out of his vision. They moved in front of him as if they were his. The vision ebbed when he tried to divert his attention; it went beyond superimposition when he focused on it. Hancock could feel the sensation of the blood stained Vault-tec jumpsuit chafe under his palms as smooth hands gripped and pulled at the material. He was peering up at the face of a dead man, his body heavy and limp, slumped in some sort of pod that reminded him of Goodneighor’s Memory Den. 

“Nate! Please — please don’t do this! NATHAN!”

He’s dead. He’s gone. Fuck, if his heart wasn’t breaking. It was shattering into millions of pieces, leaving him more numb and empty than he had ever felt. And goddamn, it felt fucking real. As real as the jumpsuit under his palms, as real as the chill that had sank into his bones, as real as the couch he still lounged in. 

A sudden hand on his arm made his body jolt. The vision of the dead man was abruptly ripped from him and in its place was Fahrenheit’s stern face. She was blurry, swimming in a lake of wavering tears. He was crying. Fuck, he was sobbing. His shoulders heaved, his lungs hungrily taking in air in short, frantic gulps. For all of a moment, Fahrenheit looked on the brink of amusement. Her right eyebrow was curled upward and the corner of her mouth was lifting into a smirk as she readied to deliver some snide remark, but then her expression changed. The almost-smirk vanished, the haughty brow lowered, and then a look of awe lit her features. Hancock sniffled, the tears that had been cascading down his ruined cheeks came to an abrupt stop as if the well had run dry. The ache in his chest was gone. So was the dead man in the pod. So was the frantic, begging, voice. He blinked. He took one more big gasp for air to steady himself but it was shaky. He was shaking.

“S-sorry,” he rasped. His voice was weak and frail at the edges. He cleared his throat. “Sorry. That was, uh— that—”

Though he wanted to blame it all on the chems, he knew that that wasn’t the case. That was something else. Something he never thought he would experience in all of his lifetime. For some goddamn reason, the Powers That Be decided to gift Hancock with a soulmate. He was shocked. He was elated.

Fahrenheit’s voice was barely audible when she said, “You found them.”

“It’s a woman.”

“What does she look like? What’s her name? Where is she?” 

Soulmates were a rarity these days, because that’s what happened when nuclear bombs fell and annihilated the majority of the world's population. Fahrenheit was still missing her signature scowl. It made him uncomfortable. Hancock shook his head, reaching for his smokes that were in the breast pocket of his coat — anything to stop the shaking of his hands.

“I dunno. It’s exactly how they say. Y'see through their eyes. All I saw was her hands. And I heard her voice.”

“Whose Nate?” When Hancock glanced at Fahrenheit she added, “You were saying his name.”

There was no way for Hancock to know who Nate was, and yet he did. Hancock knew exactly who Nate was. Nate was his soulmate’s dead husband. Hancock swore, chucking the pack of cigarettes to the floor in a fit of irritation. So much for that high he had been riding. Coming out of the vision, he felt debilitatingly sober. Leave it to the universe to give him one of the best gifts anyone could ever receive, and then somehow make it completely awful.

Fuck you, too, universe. Fuck. You. Too.

-

[ 2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ]

[sealz888]

Gage for the ask me anything! If you don’t do DLC characters then Nick Valentine please and Butch from FO3❤️

Thank you for requests! Another Anon sent me an ask with 2/3 of the characters and with Old Long Fellow so I'll post that soon for them. In the meanwhile, please enjoy. CW for Butch: Child abuse. Triggering content below the cut.

Nick Valentine

Ever since he was a young boy he's had a knack for investigating.

First got into introduction to it was family game night, where they had one of those fake investigation game thingies. He got it pretty fast, much to his families dismay. They got some more, and he only got better.

Started to watch detective and crime shows and movies and he'd often pick up on the culprit quickly. Listened to true crime radio shows too.

When he was 16, his neighbour hired to him to investigate if her husband was cheating on him. He found out and got photo evidence. The husband was cheating and he got paid handsomely for finding out.

Frequently corresponds with DiMA,  exchanging letters and parcels. He tries to visit at least once a year. DiMA still tries to convince him to stay. 

One time while they were staying, DiMA found  one of those investigation games. A whole bunch of Synthes and DiMA tried to figure it out, Nick sat there watching and helping whenever he could. He ending up bringing it back to the Commonwealth with him.

Pre-War Nick was pretty close with Jennifer's nephew, becoming an uncle figure. There bond only got got stronger after Jenny got murdered. Nick and Little Shaun now share this bond.

His internal fans speed up and get really loud when he's flustered of caught of guard. If it's really quiet and you get up nice and close you could almost hear a mechanical heartbeat.

Porter Gage

I haven't played or watched too much on Nuka-world, so forgive me if I have anything off.

Gouged out his own eye. He was dared to prove his courage, loyalty and balls.

His brother is Red-eye. They were both adopted into the same raider family. They also have sister and another younger brother who were birthed into the ranks. The Sister and brother died in one of the raids, but Red Eye and Gage made it to Nuka World.

Doesn't like the taste of Nuka-Cola, drinking it so much as made him miserable. He's so tired of using it to marinade meat. He's so tired of the same fizzy texture. He's so tired of the taste, the colour, everything.

Tends to help out with agriculture and farming considering his roots.

Is debating betraying the SoSu considering their status with the Minutemen, dissatisfied at the recent information. He's also planning a full scale invasion of the Commonwealth.

He also wanted Nuka World too himself as well, so he has Red-Eye spy on SoSu.

Butch DeLoria

Content Warnings for Child Abuse the cut.

His dad ran off to Vegas. Growing up his mother would warn him about gambling, Chems and alcohol. Also bares a striking resemblance to his father, his mother resents him for it.

When he was a young child, he'd often ""run away"" from their room and ask to sleep for the night. He'd end up frequently having sleep overs with other kids and spend more time at theirs than his'.

Was really hoping to get a mechanic on the G.O.A.T and absolutely hated being a barber at first. However, he really like doing his hair and got really good it, so he excelled in his training much to his dismay.

Opened his own barber shop in Rivet City and people from all over, and I mean all over come to see him and to get a haircut. His skills are insane.

Listens to a lot of Elvis and can do a few of his dance moves.

Big comic book nerd despite bullying a lot of kids in the vault about comics. He's a grognak kinda guy I reckon.

Helps MacCready out too and knew him as a kid. He often visits little Duncan and brings him lollies, sweets, sodas and comics. He'll read Duncan the letters MacCready sends him in silly voices to get him to laugh.

Big ol' softie, wants a wife and to settle down in a family but his past experiences and absent father makes him second guess himself. He has a dog though.

He got counselling from James to deal with his trauma. Also apologised to the LW and Amata too.

Happy to leave the vault and never come back!

Continued below cut

He'd run to the guards and overseer and tell them about everything, most of the guards wanted to help him and would let him stay around them. They did everything in their power to get him help.

but when the overseer confronted his mother about she denied everything and said that he was lying.

He was not. Could you hear it.

[edaworks]

How it's going vs. how it started:

After hearing me bitch for a good hour about how much of a pain in the ass it is to produce Gothic masthead-style calligraphic text in MS Paint (there was a reason I was using MS Paint, I promise), @twosides--samecoin has now figured out what album cover I'm ripping off spoofing so I'm now free to wip post. Here's her SoSu, Jack Ward.

[xenodidelphis]

Minutemen vs. Nuka-Raiders

So, I have to get this out before the edible kicks in so lets go.

I'm going to break this down into a couple of sections. Tactics, Equipment, and Allies.

For any of this to make sense, I will be operating on the premise that the SoSu went with the MM or the Railroad, and is no longer in the picture. Instead, there is a General that took over after. Additionally, the premise for the Raiders will be that there is a new Overboss that is good at keeping the factions together.

We will also have to work on either the premise that the Raiders or the MM are invading. Seeing as I do not have the attention span for both, I'm going with the Raiders expanding into the CW.

Let's go.

Tactics

With the Raiders working together and a strong leader, I think that they could really work to the strengths of each gang. If you sent in the Operators first with their low profiles and "tame" personalities, then they could go after the artillery and at least slow down the heavy shelling. They would do this before the MM even knew an invasion was happening. Once the MM DO realize that they are being invaded, it would be much harder to keep ahead of shelling, so most of the time they would want to keep fighting very close to settlements to keep that from being an issue. Wave 2 would be mostly the Disciples and a mix of Pack/Operators. This would satiate the Disciples blood lust and give the most aggressive pack members something to do while the rest of the Pack hunts down any runners. If everything goes well, this will be the final wave.

However, the MM are not pushovers. I think that the MM would just have an inadequate amount of members per settlement to fight back effectively if they tried to brute force it. They have the home terrain advantage, though, and so would be much better at falling back to regroup than the Raiders would be at realizing how many of them had slipped out to get reinforcements the moment the first Disciple came over the horizon.

Once the MM in full knew what was up, they could start to turn their artillery on the road leading into the CW. By this time, they would almost certainly have a way of fast cross-CW communication. I would bet it would be a Pony-Express style relay from wherever the nearest MM radio is to wherever the information needed to be.

This alone would mean that they could be so much better about out-maneuvering the gangs. That is until the gangs figure this out, and start targeting the radio towers.

Once the MM marches enmasse, however, the tide almost certainly could turn in their favor because they are so much more organized than the Raiders, and less prone to majorly breaking from plan or backstabbing each other on the field.

Now,

Equipment

This one is going to be short, I think. The MM have fucking artillery. They have access to more advanced technology that isn't scavenged, and they have the bonus of (most likely) dedicated people putting together and repairing their gear. With a MM ending, there may be quite a few sets of Brotherhood PA that are painted over with a MM flag. Big advantage there. The Raiders have chemical warfare and are not afraid to use it. [Ooap, it's kicking in.] Plus, their weapons are very module and low tech, meaning they can improvise on a dime with someone eles's gun if a piece of their's breaks. All together less armor, but they have the advantage of being almost to a member hopped up on something that makes you feel no pain, and so can outlast if nothing else.

Allies

The biggest advantage the gangs would have is caps-flow and not having scruples with using Gunners and Slaves to fill their ranks. They may also get some other smaller gangs to run with them easily enough- even if that does add in another potential power grab and a plethora of backstabbing.

The MM wouldn't use slaves of Gunners- but they would have the advantage of WAY MORE allies within the CW. The Raiders wouldn't have a place they could rest without fighting hard to take it, and there is a MM waiting on just about every damn corner. If there isn't a MM, there is a settler or a trader that will run and tell the next MM they see. (Again- this is a stable MM ending with the intention of bringing everyone under the protection of them). Plus, if they need expert subterfuge and sneaky-sneaks, the Railroad could most likely be tapped, or individual members of it if it basically mostly dissolved after the Institute went kaput.

The long short of it in my mind is that they would be a match for each other and it would come down to the brass-tack details of each side to determine if the MM can run the raiders off/wipe them, or in the Raiders decimate the MM and win the CW for themselves.

Hope the last couple of sentences made sense, because they rook me over a half hour to write.

@chempack @failedphlebotomist

[bardic-inspo]

3 23 26 for the fic writer asks!!

Thank youuu 💜💜💜

[Fic Writer Asks]

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?

Usually grief and/or recovery figure somewhere in what I'm writing. Survival, too. I gravitate towards main characters who need to come into their own in some fashion throughout the story. Maybe they are already badass at some things, but they're shying away from that potential for Reasons to be revealed (like my Tav, Naomi), or the skill set they do have isn't the one they need for their circumstances (like my SoSu, Natasha, who initially can't shoot for shit). I enjoy showing the struggle and build over time of those characters making choices and developing different abilities that lead them to becoming altogether different people than who they used to be.

I think my writing style tends be very sensory/immersive. If the scene is on a beach, I want you to feel the sand under your feet. I think part of that is writing in present tense, which helps put the reader more directly in the moment/situation.

23. What’s a trope, AU, or concept you’ve never written, but would like to?

Fake dating! It seems fun and rife with tropey potential, but I've never been struck by an idea in that vein before, and forcing it feels, well, forced. One day, maybe!

26. Would you rather write a fic that had no dialogue or one that was only dialogue?

Only dialogue! I wouldn't have always answered that way, but I think I'd enjoy writing something like that more, now, than something without any dialogue at all.

[monterraverde]

"Sosu, let's give 'em a show, yeah?"

The Drop and catch was such a daring maneuver, one not many riders- let alone their pokemon are trained in, but her and her ride pokemon for this race had formed such a close bond, she figured he was more then prepared for it.

Sides, if Sosu didn't catch her, Adniel would.

So she's sure to make a giant spectacle of what she was doing up on the mountainside facing Sunyshore city, where most people were gathering for the rave, flying up onto an outcropping of rock that was just long enough to get a vaulting leap off of.

She pets Sosu's nose a few times before whistling and instructing him to prep for the dive...

And then she runs full tilt for the edge, and leaps.

Inhuman speed sends her hurtling off the edge and into a total free fall dive off the side of Mt. coronet, head pointed at the ground as Sosu came around the side and met her speed, the two falling in unison as only sync'd trainer and pokemon could... And right before they both collided with the ground, Sosu swoops beneath her and catches her on his back, Rika landing prone on him and clinging to shoulders and back fin as they soared right over the gathering crowd, a small gust of wind following behind them.

Even if she was standing in 6th place currently, she fully intended to give these people a show. She didn't spend 11 years training Garchomp to not show off just how graceful and powerful they were.

Sabrina chose her for a reason, she's not about to let that be in vain.

[casualblacklight]

Kinda randomly posting this buuuut I'll probably share Fallout/Saints Row crossover-Fanart in the upcoming time 🥺

SR has been my main fandom the past 3 years and I can't (and especially don't want to) let go of my fave characters so I feel like making an AU for Fallout 4... bcs I am so insanely into playing it currently 🥺👉👈

And yes for sure I remade my custom Boss in FO and... I think it really works well? 🥺

And no, Boss is not the Sole Survivor. Boss is.. the Boss xD simple

But he'll join the SoSu Nate from time to time on his journey 😇

I'm currently thinking over how I could possible connect SRIV with FO4? I mean we have some weird stuff existing in SRIV that I could use for the Saints to come to the Commonwealth... but ah I'm still figuring out things 👉👈

But anyway, I have alot of fanart planned already eh 🥰

Some screenies under the cut bcs I'm obsessed over the thought of Nate and Playa meeting xD

[commonwealthoccurences]

Companions(+others) React: Sole has Amnesia (Part One)

Request: Companions(including Gage, Longfellow and MAYBE DiMA if you can, because I miss him ;;) +romanced!Nick react to SoSu losing their memory??? I'm feeling angsty today :P Part Two

Word Count: 3,200

Content: Brain injury as a result of falling, traumatic head injury, surgery mention, inaccurate science, companions dissociating, medically induced coma. Companions other than Nick have an ambiguous relationship with Sole. Panic attack (Deacon)

The Beginning Scenario (minus Curie and X6-88):

Looking back, Sole’s companion of several years could pinpoint the exact moment they watched it all go wrong. Sole, in all of their reckless glory that came with being one of the most prominent figures of the Commonwealth, were balanced precariously atop a building of several stories in an attempt to get ahold of a device they’d been chasing to the ends of the Earth.

The mission was a wild goose chase, thanks to a machine that they desperately needed up and running and the part being rarer than a Commonwealth resident that’d never encountered radiation. Sole and their companion were worn out at that point, at their wits end and ready to put the chase behind them. They weren’t thinking straight. They weren’t taking the precautions they normally did, weren’t looking out for themself– they just wanted the hunt to be over.

And then they were falling.

The rest was hazy for the companion. They’d hauled Sole back to safety– they knew that. There was blood on their hands, their clothes, underneath their fingernails and everywhere they knew they’d be scrubbing for hours to get rid of it all. But they were seeing it through a haze, vision clouded and distant. It couldn’t be them in this situation, there was no way Sole wasn’t fine.

Sole’s companion never passed out, but they felt themself come back to where they were sitting, waiting, like surfacing from an ocean of panic. Curie had emerged from the back room she had been working in, also covered in blood and looking more exhausted than they felt. She collapsed into the chair next to them, elbows resting on her knees, head bowed. “I have done the best I can.” Her voice cracked.

The ocean pulled them back under again. Through the haze they listened to Curie explain how they should’ve been in pieces, and nearly were, but thanks to Institute technology that had reached the Commonwealth, she managed to put them back together. There was, however, a catch.

She wasn’t sure they were going to wake up, and what the consequences of the damage would be if they did.

Their companion waited out the weeks-long medical coma in the same drowning silence, at the end of their hospital bed. Of course, the one time the companion stepped out for more than a few minutes, they came back to a solemn looking Curie. The conversation lasted far longer than they cared for, considering all they wanted to do was shove past Curie and finally see Sole. Then, the world stopped. They won’t remember you repeated like a mantra in their head.

Sole had no idea who they were anymore. All of those years, down the drain.

Cait:

The walk into Sole’s room felt like a death march more than anything. Cait wasn’t sure what to expect– she had seen Sole, of course, over the past week, but this was different. The bandages wound around their head wouldn’t be able to disguise the fact that they didn’t remember anything since waking up in the vault. It was all gone.

And there was something particularly hard about the pleasant, but confused smile that they greeted Cait with as she walked into the room. She could see it already. They didn’t recognize her. She was a stranger to them.

The first couple of weeks were hard– Cait had to abruptly leave many times just to gather herself and not show Sole how upset she was, though they weren’t stupid. She could see the knowing in their eyes, the way they watched her with a warm sort of secondhand-sadness. But still, they didn’t recognize her. So Cait told them stories about all of the things they’d gone through together, the many times they’d saved each other's lives, and Sole recounted stories that she’d heard before a thousand times. She never interrupted them.

Curie:

There was something particularly horrifying about holding together the brain of someone you knew so intimately, just for them to not recognize you upon waking. Curie had known it was a possibility from the exact moment she saw the state of Sole, but it didn’t sting any less when they awoke and asked where their child was. Despite her expertise, there were some things Curie couldn’t put back together.

She watched Sole withdraw. They processed the trauma of coming to in a world devastated by radiation and humanity all over again. Curie had to explain to them exactly who their child was and what he had done, and the sobs that had wracked their body when they found out he was dead would haunt her for the rest of her life.

But she watched them refind themself. The memories never came back, and so, because of their resilience, they decided to make new ones. They were hungry for the stories other companions had. Not stories just of them, but of the things the companions had seen and experienced. Likely, they would never be the Sole she had known again, but they were alive.

Post BB!Danse:

Danse wouldn’t dare argue that Sole was better off with the Brotherhood and their technology. He’d been willing to swallow his pride and accept the idea that he may die for asking the favor of saving them, until he watched Curie start working. She performed miracles with blood-soaked hands. Despite the nausea prickling at the back of his throat, he’d insisted on staying during the entire procedure. He’d seen worse happen to the people he cared about, and he was determined to stick it out with Sole the entire time, even if they weren’t conscious to realize.

If they started crashing, he wanted to be there for the end. Sole had done the same thing for him when confronting the Brotherhood, and he’d never considered leaving them in a moment so similar. He was on their side till the end, whenever that may be.

The weeks that crawled by with them unconscious left him pacing in their room, arms crossed, from sunrise to sunset. The only time he slept was propped up against their cot, gun within arms reach in case someone got the bright idea to come after the Minutemen General while they were vulnerable. There was something instinctual, beyond paying a debt, in the way he was so determined to prove that he could protect them.

Maybe it was guilt.

Regardless, the moment that Curie told him that they had no memory of anything they’d been through, he had to step outside. The injustice of it all had him reeling, braced against the porch railing of Curie’s clinic. Maybe Sanctuary citizens stopped and stared, wondering what was going on with their leader and why their companion looked so broken, but Danse didn’t notice. The world would have to stop spinning first, and he doubted that would happen anytime soon.

When he finally did go in to see Sole, they shattered his heart with the way they gave him a soft, confused smile and welcomed him in. The first question they asked was, “So who were you to me?”

Were. They soothed him ever so kindly when he immediately choked on tears, turning away from them to try and hide it. Of course, even with every memory of him gone, they knew. Sole patted the chair next to the cot and asked for every bit of information that might remind them of who they were to each other. A task. Yeah, he could cope with that.

So they spent hours and hours together, Danse recounting every bit of how they met, and he was blatantly honest about the whole thing, the way Sole would’ve wanted before. He told them how he was uptight and admittedly brainwashed, and how they saw the person behind that, the person he would become thanks to them. They laughed and cried and ended in a sorrowful silence, Danse wondering if he’d ever see the person he knew again and Sole wondering just how much they were missing.

Neither of them had answers.

Deacon:

Deacon had seen it all over the years he had been in the Commonwealth, and even before. He’d watched worse, helped nurse worse. He’d buried countless Railroad members, watched every expectation and hope he’d had for those people shattered, and still, he thought watching Sole hit the pavement would be the thing that would haunt him the longest. He was right.

He should’ve been there. They should’ve known better. Should’ves rendered him useless, head in his hands as he waited for any news. Other companions milled about the waiting room, popping in and out as they asked if there was any update and were met with a resounding no by one of Curie’s nurses. Deacon didn’t move.

It could’ve been one hour. It could’ve been twelve, or twenty four, or years. Deacon would never know with the way the time blurred into one big, messy blob, only interrupted by Curie coming to break the news.

Denial was an easy, familiar friend in the situation. Deacon liked to think he was pretty good at rolling with the punches and accepting situations as they came along, but this wasn’t something he could accept. There was no way Sole didn’t remember him. There was no way it was all for nothing, everything they fought for. God, even after all this time the wasteland could devastate him with its injustice. Good people just didn’t survive there, and that was a fact he was finally absolutely sure of.

He swiped away angry tears, thankfully ignored by Curie, and braced himself to speak with Sole. She let him into the room with a look that held every feeling that was cycling through him– the anger, the guilt, the sorrow, and the longing for someone who was potentially long gone.

When he sat down, Sole studied him for a moment with a look that was hauntingly familiar before they spoke. “No bullshit. How bad is it?”

Deacon laughed, but it came out more like a choked sob. “Pretty damn bad, Sole.”

“So you know me.”

“Yeah. I know you.” Like the back of his hand. He would never be able to forget them.

“Tell me how? God, I don’t remember having all of these scars before.” The joke was met with silence and a nod.

He pointed out every scar they had and told the story behind them. They were all mapped out in his head, seared into his brain. Every story they told him about the scars he wasn’t there to witness he recounted back to them in a way that felt so wrong. Every story he was there for, he didn’t dare embellish, but he still fought to make them laugh. The first time they did, he broke. 

The fear that he’d never hear them laugh again had been so overwhelming it had suffocated him, sent him into a panic attack in the clinic bathroom. But now that he’d heard the light ring of their laughter, he knew it’d be okay. It’d take months, years even, but even if they didn’t get their memories back, they’d figure it out. They always did.

DiMA:

DiMA had fought to get Sole transferred back to Acadia. It wasn’t that he doubted Curie– he’d witnessed her talent over and over again, but saving Sole felt like a battle. It was pure strategy and familiarity that had a hold over him, urging him to protect them from somewhere familiar. If they were in Acadia, he could protect them better. If they were in Acadia, this wouldn’t have happened. He wouldn’t have failed to protect someone he cared so much about again.

Curie had gotten riled up for the first time he’d ever seen, spitting fire at him about how she was the best chance for Sole and she’d be damned if he’d get in her way. She was right, he knew. He couldn’t let his own instinct get in the way of Sole’s wellbeing, and so he accepted things as they were.

And there was something so ironic, he thought, about the way he’d spent years perfecting the ability to keep all of his memories just to find out that Sole would be left with none of their time in the Commonwealth. It was bitter, and he knew if this had happened even fifty years earlier, he wouldn’t have had the mental fortitude to keep himself together.

Sole’s first reaction upon seeing him was pure surprise. Not fear, or disgust, but gentle and kind curiosity that they expressed with respect, and he was reminded all over again why he always knew there was just something about them. Down to the bare bones of their personality, with no memory of the Commonwealth and exposed to something so unreal to what experiences they remembered, they were still the open and warm-hearted person he knew. It nearly crushed him.

He settled into the chair somewhat hesitant– where would he even start. “Do you have any questions?”

“Oh, several.”

“Go ahead.”

“... does all of the food really taste this bad?”

Tension broke as DiMA threw his head back and laughed. Yes, they were still them. “I would not know.”

“Oh. Yeah, should’ve guessed that. So… how do we know each other?”

Gage:

So maybe Gage didn’t handle the news as well as he would’ve liked, but considering the news, he figured the fact that since he didn’t strangle someone with his bare hands, he handled it pretty damn well. Curie was far more patient than she should’ve been with him, though the exhaustion on her face was enough to tame his temper in itself. 

When he resettled in the chair next to her, worn out by his own rage, Curie dropped a hand on his shoulder and he didn’t bother shrugging it off. It was something Sole would do, he thought. Would they still do it, after they got reacquainted? Would they keep the painkillers he insisted he didn’t need with them for when the weather triggered the stinging pain in his bad eye? Would they be the same? Did it matter? 

The twisting feeling in his gut told him to run. It was too much to handle, he didn’t want to be around to see the crumbled remains of the person he knew. But he couldn’t. Sole had been given the option to run an infinite amount of times, and every time he expected them to look at the battles he was fighting and get the hell out, they stuck by him. Even without that, he couldn’t imagine leaving them behind.

This was exactly what he didn’t want. This was exactly why Gage had been so distant. He was protecting both of them, and look how that turned out. Did he even deserve to be sitting in that chair, waiting for them to awake, like he was important to them? Like he was family? Curie stumbled to her feet, “Stop moping.” Tragedy brought out the brutal honesty in her, apparently, “You are not the one to be pitied right now.”

And, as always, she was right. He didn’t matter right now– all that mattered was Sole. Dread ate at him when he found out they were awake. Of course he wanted to see them, but he wasn’t sure what he was going to see in the first place. 

Gage stepped into the room and met their critical gaze with ease. It was one he had been familiar with, when they were getting used to each other. They were assessing a potential threat, and when they had deemed him passable, as they had all those years ago, they sighed. “So this is pretty fucked up, huh?”

“Yeah. It’s pretty fucked up.”

Sole hummed. “Wanna tell me about yourself?”

“Nah. Not right now, don’t think I could handle that.”

“Alright. Wanna sit and be pissed about this whole thing?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”

Sole nodded, though they winced at the motion and he winced at the state of their injuries. Sitting into the guest chair next to their cot and kicking up his feet beside them was easy enough. The evening passed in comfortable silence, both of them gazing out the window at the Commonwealth. There was time to figure out who they were to each other another day. For now, he was just grateful that he was able to sit beside them and be angry that they didn’t have their memories. At least he still had them.

Hancock:

Hancock wished he’d gotten time to bond with Curie over something other than crying at the state of Sole, but that was the nature of the Commonwealth. There was never enough time, and he felt the fear thrumming at the base of his throat and turning his heart, reminding him with every breath. That could’ve been it for them. What would he have done if that was it for them?

Of course, selfishly, the fear that his appearance would make a poor first impression itched at the back of his mind. Of all the things to worry about, he scolded himself. He remembered the easy way they had introduced themself the first time, the way they’d taken everything in stride and simply accepted that things were different from before, but he had no way of knowing how they’d react now. Sole’s brain was brand new, essentially, with only the scraps from before the war, and God knew what that would mean.

So when they stepped into the room and their eyes widened, he cringed and braced for one of the distasteful comments he was used to. They didn’t hurt so much anymore, but he knew it would sting coming from Sole. “Nice coat. Haven’t seen shit like that since history class.”

Oh. There they were. Even without their memories, they were so intrinsically them. And Hancock felt foolish to think for even a second that they could be anyone but the Sole he knew. Sure, things would be different now, but that was them. Relief would be an understatement for the emotion that washed over him as he settled down next to their cot.

Sole asked a few basic questions about who he was and what he did, and the pangs in his chest were bittersweet. Then, they asked how they met.

“You stabbed him?” They exclaimed, trying to muffle the laughter that rang out of them with the palm of their hand.

“Yeah. Listen, I told you. I don’t take disrespect in Goodneighbor.” He pointed a finger at them goodnaturedly. “I was serious, Sunshine.”

“Sounds like he deserved it.” They mumbled, contemplating for a second. “Sunshine. I like that.” The look they gave him was curious.

“Yeah? I’m glad.”

“Did you always call me that?”

“Yeah. I did. I do.”

Sole hummed. “Lucky me.”

[twosides--samecoin]

Something I HC about the Institute - they know exactly where the Railroad are at Old North Church. If they figured out the Switchboard, I see no reason why their surveillance, coursers and anyone with a history book at CIT are going to figure out a red line on the ground. They're going to hear "follow the freedom trail" and laugh and sit on the information until it's useful to swoop in on HQ.

I mean, if the Institute is watching the Sole Survivor as they follow the canon path to finding the Railroad? Then the SoSu leads Shaun straight to Old North Church anyway. Sure the player needs a fun narrative means of finding the Railroad but whatever the opsec was for the Switchboard, this is ostensibly worse

[sunderedandundone]

UrGoh and SkekGra have a dream about their former self and companions:

It’s not hard to find the Academy hall; all GraGoh has to do is hurry in the direction of glory. The sounds radiating and echoing down the corridor are rapturous, almost ravishing, and so multifaceted — whenever they turn their head even slightly, notes glance off the walls at different angles like shafts of reflected light, forming ever-renewed counterpoints and harmonies. It rotates like an orrery graphing the heavens. It is the work of masters…or rather (as they allow themselves to think very, very quietly), *a* master.

The fact that UrSkeks float means that the Explorer has no need to worry about making too much noise as they glide up the ground-crystal aisle that terminates at the first curved row of the Academy Choir. The choristers are exerting themselves almost as hard as Homeworlders ever exert themselves, but they show no signs of fatigue. All eyes and ears are trained on what at first appears to be an unassuming figure placed not quite halfway along the first row. Conductors are an exotic concept to UrSkek society; only the very youngest of their kind have any trouble keeping the collective momentum within their spirit, following the almost-invisible visual cues from those who have been assigned to serve as leaders (supposedly always temporarily — though in practice, GraGoh has noticed that there are *certain* wells their fellow UrSkeks tend to go back to by a silent common consent).

The music swells at last to its climax, bursting upon them all and then hanging in ringing echoes for quite some time after. This is a rehearsal, so there is no murmur of approval or answer of appreciative audience improvisations. All allow themselves for just a brief space to exult in it, even as their heads modestly bow.

Then the leaderly figure looks up and spots the Explorer, and delight suffuses their features. SilSol the Musician, as they were back in the old days before everything went so hideously wrong: a softly-incandescent churn of enchained chakras running the length of their form; an immediate smile that always seems somehow *particular*, as though whoever it graces is the one person in Crystalgate City they have been waiting all unum to see. GraGoh feels their own chakras rise in sympathetic resonance. All is beauty. Everything is good and right.

“So kind of you to come and sample the incomplete product,” the vision says. *Product* is an odd, foreign word, but GraGoh cannot but let it pass as they fall into a twosome leaving the choir behind. None of the others *seem* to mind.

“It was *magnificent*,” GraGoh gushes, in a somewhat shamefaced whisper.

“‘Magnificent,’ really?” The Musician's head cocks in genuine if pleasant surprise. “Well, don’t let anyone else catch you saying that.”

“But it’s true.” GraGoh is still too overwhelmed by the talent of this UrSkek — so much their elder and (let’s face it) superior, who nonetheless deigns to treat them as a good friend — to be rebuked. “I only speak the truth.”

Another brilliant smile, quickly submerged like the glow of fading coals. At such moments, their mutual love and devotion for Master SoSu notwithstanding, the Explorer feels as though they would do anything to earn another of those lip-crooks. They are suddenly reminded of the forum last unum, when a good-natured debate between the Master and the Musician had begun to flow very deep and a tad rapid, and the Master had gently said “SilSol. Let the others catch up a little,” and GraGoh had heard themselves blurting, as though from afar, “No, don’t, SilSol.”

A shocked silence and many stares greeted this — not least, that of the Master themselves. What happened to GraGoh then was a thing they couldn’t seem to stop from happening again and again, many times for an Age and an Age afterward: having rashly thrown their lot in, they were now determined to act as though they had meant it all along. This was a circle of heretics, after all, the most trusted of SoSu’s followers and intimates, so they let their chin lift just the tiniest amount. “I want to learn,” they went on earnestly. “As you do, as all my fellows here do. I have so much catching up to do, I don’t want anyone to have to slow down for me. I would the Musician were allowed to be *themselves*. I would far rather fly to keep up with their genius than slink after like a…like a…well, a Rigger of low education.”

It was at once clear that the Explorer had made the Musician very, very happy with their words. Happy, and once again surprised, and perhaps even…touched. GraGoh certainly knew why. To find the ‘overindividuated,’ mysteriously scandalous traits that everyone else seemed to disapprove of — traits SilSol hid so well in public with their mask of humility, appropriate to a celebrated musician — not only accepted but seemingly even *approved*…that moment could be overwhelming in its beauty. GraGoh had come to love that feeling supremely, here among their fellow transgressors, the UrSkeks they adored most in all Homeworld, where so many things were at long last *permitted*. Where they didn’t have to agonize about throwing shadows upon anyone else by the fullness of their own light, or drowning out the music of others with too passionate a solo.

(Indeed, the Explorer had come to suspect that part of SilSol’s success lay in their music’s ability to subtly, gently evoke a sense of that forbidden uniqueness. Always within the unvoiced societal bounds, but often *just barely* within them.)

SoSu, though greatly taken aback, had at last nodded and bowed to let SilSol continue, saying to GraGoh as they did, “Very well, young one. If you aspire to fly so fast, it is not my place to fetter you.”

It was a joyous day, a Wonderful day, one of the best of their entire miserable existence.

[sinnohlunarfestival]

^^^ CLICK TO LISTEN TO THE BROADCAST OF THE RACE!

Transcript from the Second Segment of the Lunar Race:

Good morning everyone! My name is Kinsey, with Sinnoh Now in conjunction with Goldenrod Radio.

It's a chilly, windy day up here in the Floating Isles brought you you by Lysader Labs, Macro Cosmos and Devon Coporation. Mankind truly has gone above and beyond indeveloping all kinds of amazing technology, haven't they?

The racers are lining up at the starting line right now and the crowds taking spots on the various isles are cheering and screaming. I can see flags from various regions flying up. From my vantage point I can make out flags from Kanto, from Paldea and Unova! Loads of fans are making their support known.

Our two pinch hitters, Yris and Hilary, are doing some stretches alongside their Garchomps.

Miss Rika is looking pretty confident beside Sosu. Despite being a Ground Type Specialist, she seems pretty at home up here in the sky.

Alistair is pumping up Daisy with a good pep talk. Must be a holdover from his days at Pokestar Studios, eh? Heard the stars there really bring each other up.

Brian is getting his equipment ready for his ride with Chelsea as well as Auwa with her mount.

Giacomo seems to be riding without his signature hat. A good choice; the winds up here will be pretty brutal. Wouldn't want to lose his hat and never see it again.

Green and Blue are both looking pretty confident in themselves. Which of these flyboys will get ahead? Can we expect another win from Green Oak?

Ashe is talking with Kumiko, looks like they're still sporting their colours together. Looking fashionable with your bandannas, you two!

Hassel and Ghetsis are pretty quiet, such stalwart figures. Ghetsis looks so regal and composed and Hassel so calm. Dragon experts really are something else. Considering how they placed last time, will this be their redemption arc?

All right, everyone is getting into place. Unlike the the Water Track, the Sky track is high up in the air. Last time, the Water Track left off at the Pokemon League and that's where our racers will be kicking off! Starting from one of the Floating Isles above the League building, our racers will dive off their platforms and into the sky, headed towards the first marker at Veilstone City! After that it's a straight shot through Solaceon to Hearthome, with several obstacle hoops to fly through in between, and then touching down just outside of Eterna City.

There's quite a bit of danger involving this part of the race, but no worries! We have several members from the Pokemon Centers ready to go as well as many air marshals riding on their own Pokemon in case they need to catch our riders and their dragons.

Now...let's cheer on our racers and pray for their safe journey.

*1....2....3....GO!!!*

And they're off to a great start!

Diving headfirst into the air below, Hilary and Yris are leading the charge, followed by Alistair and Giacomo. The others are following suite and – oh, Team Luxray has gotten off to a bad start! Instead of diving off spectacularly as they had some days ago during a display of Pokemon and human bonds, both have tripped up and tumbled off of the starting platform instead! They're catching themselves up, though, Rika holding on fast to her mount and they're joining the rest.

The air is full of racers flying majestically through the clouds. We are now following them via Pokemon Taxi to get the best view and the best sound! Courtesy of the Safari Zone for volunteering these amazing Pigeot carrying the team safely along the track beside the racers.

Up ahead a large flock of Starly are incoming! Rika and Sosu dove under them, losing a bit of altitude, but gain distance and speed. Racer Hilary and Green Oak have veered to the side, avoiding the huge group of little birds. The rest of the group isn't so lucky and some have been pelted with the incoming bodies of little Starly. Oh, the marshals have caught the little ones affected by the impacts. Don't worry folks, they're all right! The Racers aren't in danger either, flying ahead to catch up.

Not to be outdone by his fellow Paldean, Hassel has caught up and surpassed Rika. Team Mamoswine is soaring ahead, leaving behind Team Luxray in their dust. On his tail is Green Oak of Team Girafarig. Keeping up a good pace is Yris of Team Bidoof, with Hilary and Aluwa coming in behind them. The others are starting to lag behind with Brian at the end of the pack.

We are headed towards Hearthome, but before that, we have the special aerial obstacle course which will prove the bond and maneuverability of each team.

Famed racer Aluwa is shining here, weaving through each loop like threading through the eye of a needle. Doing rolls in mid-air and whirls – what a show off. How graceful. Hassel is no slouch, either, moving through the obstacle with equal grace on top of Rosso. King Ghetsis is following Hassel's every move, gracefully going through the air as well, almost seeming to make a ballet in mid-air with Maryse and Team Mamoswine as their dance partner.

Blue seems to be having trouble, they've bumped into the loops more than once. Oh, Brian and Chelsea seemed to have selected a loop much too small for them to go through and have gotten stuck! The air marshals are flying over to help them get detangled safely and off they go again! Come Team Garchomp, you can do it! Go, go, go!

We're getting past Herathome and into the home stretch.

Currently Giacomo has shot to the forefront on Tyrant, leading the pack to the finish line.

He's followed by Ghetsis, then Aluwa and Green. Next we have Hassel slowing down a little, with Alistair, Yris, Blue, Hilary, Ashe and Brian. Looks like getting stuck in one of the loops cost Brian a lot of time!

We are losing altitude now as we near the finish line and the winds are getting a bit rough as a result as she change the distance between ourselves and the ground. Everyone is making the preparation for landing in front of Eterna City, but a few racers are struggling.

Oh! Aluwa and Hassel's safety harnesses have failed. They are hovering just a bit above their Garchomps, but they are holding onto dear life. Unfortunately it's not easy to make Garchomp turn around, though the other racers have noticed what's happened and are calling out in concern. Oh, the air marshals are coming in to keep an eye on the situation. They should be getting there in time – oh! Oh, no! Another harness malfunction! Hilary of Team Bastiodon has been completely thrown off of his mount! They have separated and the marshals are diving to go help him. The Team Bastiodon Garchomp is also diving to try and catch his rider. Down, down, down...CATCH! Great going guys! Hilary is back up and holding on – phew, that was a close one, but he's on his way again.

We can see Eterna City now! Alistair at the forefront now, Team Bidoof flying beside him. Will this be another photo finish? Oh, but wait! Coming from behind, zipping past Giacomo and Green, Ghetsis and Hassel are now outstripping everyone in the last few seconds. Just zooming ahead like bullets! It's coming down to the last couple of yards and we have A CLEAR WINNER!

GHETSIS HARMONIA HAS CROSSED THE FINISH LINE WITH HASSEL IN SECOND PLACE AND ALISTAIR IN THIRD!

Followed by Yris, Giacomo, Green, Rika, Hilary, Aluwa, Ashe, Blue and Brian. Guess that mess up in the air really cost him his placing. That's okay, Brian, you and Chelsea did your best!

Well, that was an exciting race two out of three for the Lunar Race. Last time we saw Ghetsis Harmonia in 8th place, but he's shot up to 1st! How amazing, what a comeback.

Thank you for tuning in everybody. I hope to see you again January 21st, for the final leg of the race.

This is Kinsey of Sinnoh now, signing off!