#whispers of a scavver

[villains4hire]

Always been you

"My name is Clarenci Von Polkawitz of the Bon'ta family and I deserve everything in this world and more."

A recording accidentally playing on a distant planet, playing alone in a room as smoke came from a leftover cigarette, the scrap planet was desolate these days, other than the chores and vermin piling up as it continued, "I deserve all my treasures, all my riches, the sixty-seven planets of my Empire I built in the name of the Bon'ta family as my father did, and his father did before him. I had it all in life, but I earned it all from scratch as they did, I earned all of it. My brilliance shined like a beacon in the universe, and I took everything I ever wanted and threw away anything that was useless to me. But I always recycled, at least, I'm not a monster."

The camera panning, it seems Clarence was getting ready to leave, "Yet from the families I've torn apart, seeing my enemies quiver at my intellectual might. It used to fill me with so much glee when they realized they've been outwitted, outmaneuvered and outgunned by me and me alone."

"How my weapons of destruction were prized among countless lives, how the Ventrexians and Tryvuulians fought like dogs for what I had to offer, much to my own amusement seeing how they wanted me so. And how even my advice to Lord Commander's engineers did not go unnoticed, the top dog himself inviting me for dinner once. He seemed pleased by my eagerness, but that dashing retch was only a tool as well." Clarence with a broken stare was taking his tablet, looking at the image of his children, saying nothing as this continued.

"Yes, how even he became just another asset to me, ALL to me. How I stood on top of the universe as the con-man to end all cons, beyond what any of my father and forefathers could ever dream of, that I, Clarenci had done the family name proud, that everything was in my grasp, but one thing, one thing still eluded me as every King needs still remained."

"An heir. A family."

"But not just any, no, nothing but the best would do, something I could mold. So I took in two, demented adult orphans on my travels, searching far and wide of whom might be the best candidates, one a war-torn child, a Tryvuulian that had grown old enough to earn retirement, decorated from his service and best of all? Broken, loyal, immature enough to where he called me his father as a grown man, but he would serve well in being more than just a pawn, I would shape him as well, a honed edge with direction, not wasted in the meat-grinders that poor boy found himself in, but a primate obeys, a Tryvuulian conquers and I would make him greater than he could ever imagine. He was such a loving son, far more than I could have wanted and great muscle to boot."

"Then the other? A Serepentian girl, an exotic find, but not just any, no. The powers she had? Oh yes, I could see the 'Dark Queen' angle she had going and said as much, perhaps one day even giving the Lord Commander a run for his money, but that might be a hopeful dream. I would relish the thought of him kneeling to me, however, though she was a bit silly and naive, she'd grow out of it one way or another. Yet her sweet eagerness for violence, torture and... to do whatever she wanted for me, gave me pause, the stories and certain topics she told me made my stomach churn. Yet, they still smiled through it all, if not outright unhinged or dreary from being easily bored at times, I'd teach her slowly of how a Bon'ta acts... and to maybe have a few she mentioned killed if they weren't dead already from her own hands. Oh, I was always so proud of my sweet little murderer."

"We were such a normal family, the best that money could buy. All I needed now? Was a wife to seal the deal and I'd truly have it made, maybe make a blood heir or two, as if something happened to me? My children would be around to look after each other."

"But they both adored me even at first when they had nothing, before I had even given them money or things, strange, but oh so such a great deal, and oh the things I taught them, all the ins and outs of the cons, every trick in the book I knew. I was going to even have my well-honed killer orphans learn the ways of my trade with a bit of schooling, and oh how we laughed and made memories together, but then... then... well."

"He came."

"His selfishness, every move he made was made to DESTROY ME. To turn my children against ME. Me. Me-me-me-ME, from ME. But I DESERVE IT, I DESERVE EVERYTHING AND MORE." A slam on the desk, some things were thrown around, his voice a rasp yet nothing could be seen.

"Look- LOOK AT WHAT HE DID TO ME."

"How I jump at every shadow now, blasting at whatever moves in the corner of my eye."

"How the sleepless nights with a pistol clutched at my side, the unsung apologies for the people he's wronged, never enough in the thousands of recordings I've made, the donations. That wherever I walk? I'm reminded by what were my greatest treasures, now of the Hell he created for me now that they're gone."

The voice drawing out, venom laced, "That I'm expected to be waiting here, waaaiting, for things to die down. While everything he did still ruins my life."

"His greed."

"The people he's destroyed for his own gain."

"And that every whisper? Is him trying to plot my end.... by people I don't even know."

"And worst of all? How he almost killed my only son."

"That of all the people he's wronged, that no matter how much I try, the guilt surrounds me, closing in. It was always him, it had always been you... always been me. Me... I created this nightmare, I've been eaten alive by that shame..." Sniffling could be heard on the recording somewhat, though it was clear with a straightening up, the recording Clarence found his resolve.

Meanwhile present Clarence was adjusting his goggles in a mirror, he'd leave to get into his ship before leaving to activate the gate. Knowing he'd maybe need his tools to fix the dodgy thing, checking his tablet for good luck.

"My name is Clarenci Von Polkawitz of the Bon'ta family and I deserve everything in this world and more... and that honestly? I'm surprised it hadn't caught up to me sooner, looking back. But I'm done running, that whatever comes to me, I'll meet with a smile just like they did. I'm going to wake up... and face the world with my own two eyes again."

"And now to my beloved children? I deserve your resentment, as everyone deserves redemption, but when you dip too deeply, taking far more than you should, consequences be damned of all that you bring down to ruin with you?"

"That what you've done, comes back to haunt you, take it from me, even if it's at the very end.... of well, everything? You can't escape it."

"I learned that?"

"The hard way."

Falling against the terminal behind him, Todd had pointed the gun in his face, the gun charging up as Clarence's panic began to build inside, thinking of Fox, of Ash, Todd smiling sadistically, "There's honor in failing." A KVN bot would suddenly impale him, declaring 'Clarence is ours' before being shot as he fell down, still pointing it at him, surprised but determined. "I didn't see that coming."

"You can't be free of your own pain, can you?"

"I don't have any pain!" The ragged man ripping the robotic arm out of himself.

Holding the gun to his face, making no attempts to fight it. "I lived a life hinged on stealing and dealing. In that kind of life, you learn to read people. What were their names? The love you lost?"

Shocked to silence for a moment, something in Todd opened up, "Holly... and Jet."

"They would probably be ashamed of what you've become. I lived in that shame, betrayed the only people that cared about me. You... don't want this. It destroys... every piece of you."

A grunt, slowly coming to terms as he saw Clarence's wounds, "I-I'm sorry, I've… I've killed us both!"

With a smile, 'Well, I probably had this coming in some way, let's… let's just call it even, as I have my son and daughter to save, so rest now.... alright?" Watching Clarence begin that persistent tread away, only to stumble, taking everything he had to crawl forward, Todd almost moved himself to help him, but found his legs unable to get up. Horror slowly dawning on him of what he's done as he began to shake, but with the last of what would carry him? Clarence had made it to the terminal, slamming his fist down upon the button.

"Turn... on!"

Relieved, Todd... would be finally going to his family, his regrets... now gone, muttering under his breath a 'Thank you... but I'm... going home' as life left his eyes.

The gate activating as it lit to a blue glow, the machine blasting a large beam as Clarence smiled to himself, looking at his tablet one last time of what he treasured the most.

....And yet, not soon after, a link was wishing to be established. It was Ash, after all this time? She had kept his frequency to what her and Fox got him and themselves all one for his birthday, what seemed like years ago. He hesitated, but rubbed his mouth clean before allowing the comms to connect, after all, he did just open the gate did he not?

Ash would be on the other end, smiling, "Hey!... I'm really... surprised honestly, thank you, thank you so much, Clarence. Maybe, after this is all over, we could meet-"

Clarence couldn't hold it in any longer, "Ash wait! I... I want to give it all up, I left you and your brother everything, all sixty-seven planets in your names. Every single riches and coin I've earned, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for what I did to you both when you needed a father, not some conman teaching you the trade." Grunting, he'd keep a strong face, "And that even if you don't want me in your life anymore? I want you both taken care of, so you never have to worry about anything again, that so long as both of you are okay, I'm fine with whatever happens now. I- I even left you recordings, thousands, and even used state of the art AI holograms of me or even other people so you could have what I could never give as a father... or, you could even burn all of it, that... that might be fun, maybe a bit cathartic even." Giving a small smile as he tried to keep the ruse up, she didn't need to know, him quietly disappearing was fine enough.

Gaze averting as she looked shocked he even cared that much, something had to be said, "...Clarence, Fox... Fox didn't make it."

At first nothing, but then a hitched, "O-oh.... I- s-see." Then finally, he could hold back no longer as he let out a wounded, pathetic noise as he sniffled, though it'd be interrupted with violent coughing, blood coming up as the camera violently shook.

Ash's eyes growing wider, she had seen enough, the glimpse of his injuries, "Cl-arence! Hold on, I'm coming, I'm going to get to you, just, just sit tight. I can be there in no time now."

Subtle panic starting to build, she'd be stopped by Clarence who pleaded in a sudden resolve, "Ash... stop, it's okay, it's okay dear, it's too late for me. But not you, you changed me, you all did even when I didn't realize it. That out of every riches I've stolen or conned, you two were the greatest thing to ever have happened to me, and I love you and the memories we had, and I'm sorry, I'm so sorry it took so long for me to see that... you were my greatest treasure. And that, and that- it's always."

"Always been you."

"Always."

Choking up a little, so many conflicting feelings dwelling within, welled up, but this was probably the last time she'd see him, tears starting to flow, "I- I love you too, dad."

A small final smile given to her in response to hearing that, he began to fade rather quickly as Ash quietly let out a pained noise, clutching herself as she remained alone in the room.

->In a distant, far-away place, a tendril would press a button as a recording played in the background of what was hidden away<-

[falloutconfessions]

"Having completed both the main and side quests in Fallout 76, I have been just logging in for some dailies now and again.

Until recently, however.

I've found that the location of my CAMP (North of the Giant Teapot/Charleston on I-59) is a rather nice ambience location. Storms usually roll down, sure, but no Radstorms which is nice. And the view!

From here you can see the Ash Heap, you can hear the wind whisper through the mountains, not many Scorched or Super Muties head out this way, and it's just...

Bliss. And calm. And I've just been enjoying relaxing there with my various Allies, listening to the world roll on. It's been so nice.

And if any newcomers happen to pass by on their way to the Teapot or Charleston, please help yourself to the Nuka-Cola and give Sweets the Mr. Handy my regards. He's been a wonderful neighbour.

Also, watch out for any fool trying to restart Power Plant WV-06. They tend to get loud down that way."

Fallout Confessions

Photo of Watoga, Looking East - Taken by L.Thompson, Scavver

[callsignbaphomet]

Okay, so I finished all three WIPs so I'll upload them one by one. I'm uploading them in "order" so it makes better sense. These don't have titles because like I've said before I am absolute trash at coming up with titles. As usual TWs are at the top and if I forget any I'm sorry, it's not my intention so kindly let me know if something needs to be tagged.

☆★☆★→Link to google Doc←☆★☆★

In case someone prefers to read it there than here.

Trigger warnings: firearms, weapons, death, drugs/chems, alcohol, sexual themes, sexual content, panic attack.

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“Dagny, vent på meg.” Jelani called out to Dagny as the little night stalker sped up and climbed up on top of a ruined and blown up car and stared off into the distance, her ears were perked up, her body was stiff and her tail was still and alert.

“La oss gå, Dag.” Jelani said as he walked past the vehicle and continued to walk. He was in no mood for games, not when he was operating on less than two hours of sleep and heavily craving another shot of Calmex. The night before was bad, bad enough that he used up the last two Calmex he had left and he wouldn’t be able to get his hands on another batch for another five days. The nightmares were getting worse.

Dagny looked back at Jelani and let out a quiet bark to get his attention. As soon as he turned around to look at her Dagny kept her eyes fixated on him, her body was still and stiff though he noticed her left ear twitched and bent to the side. He sighed and looked to where she’d been staring and as soon as he did Dagny gave a subtle wiggle as if celebrating the fact that Jelani looked in the direction she wanted him to look. Jelani saw nothing, just tall dry grass as far as the eye could see and several miles away were some ruins and half destroyed buildings.

“A’ight.” Jelani walked over to the car and climbed it to see if he was able to see what had gotten such a strong hold of Dagny’s attention. As soon as he was on the roof he knelt beside her and looked in the same direction. “Hva er det, jente?”

With a better vantage point Jelani could see a little further away. About fifty feet away he could make out what looked like three people struggling or fighting, it was hard to tell from that distance. He retrieved a pair of binoculars from his backpack to get a better view of the situation. There were actually four men. Three of them, who appeared to be farmers, were fighting a fourth man. It was hard to tell what the fourth man was, he could’ve been a scavver, a random settler or anyone else really. Jelani looked up to see the position of the sun, it was still early and he was close to Jamaica Plain, a little detour wouldn’t hurt given how early he decided to take off.

“Kom igjen, Dag.”

Jelani and Dagny made their way to the quartet as fast as they could and once they were about twenty feet from the group both of them slowed down and hid amongst the tall grass. Now that he was closer Jelani could see each of their faces clearly, three of them he’d never seen before but the fourth one, the one the farmers were attacking, surprised him. It was that raider that saved Dagny from drowning when he’d been jumped by the Bunker Hill raiders. Jelani knelt as he grabbed his sniper rifle and once he positioned himself he pointed to Dagny with his left index finger and as soon as the little night stalker saw his hand he then brought up the same hand and pointed to one of the farmers, specifically the one holding a wooden bat, with his index and middle finger. Once he was sure Dagny understood her instructions he then held up his middle, index and thumb. While crouching Dagny took a few steps forward and patiently waited for Jelani.

“Get your bitch hands off me!” Angelus yelled as he struggled to break free but the farmer holding him pulled out a switchblade and pressed the tip to his neck.

“En.” Jelani whispered as he took aim. His crosshairs sitting right on the farmer’s left ear. Dagny slowly brought forth her right foot and set it down on the dry ground.

“From now on we ain’t waiting for no goddamn Minutemen. We’ll take care of you scumbags our own damn selves.” The man holding the bat said as he brought it up behind his shoulder and gripped it so hard his knuckles were turning white.

“To.” Jelani inhaled as he carefully wrapped his index finger around the trigger. He made enough contact with it to apply some pressure though not enough to pull it yet.

The other farmers yelled in agreement. Their frustrations were justified and their anger had made a lot of them bolder than even most of the Commonwealth raiders. Something happened in the last year that offset the balance within raider ranks. New groups and gangs were slowly filtering in little by little into the Commonwealth, these gangs were far more aggressive, destructive and far more dangerous than the raiders that had called Boston their home for years now. At first it was nothing the newly reformed Minutemen couldn’t handle, in fact, some of them seemed to enjoy the challenge, especially their new general. However, the Minutemen’s push back only managed to come off as a challenge to these new raiders and before long the Commonwealth was yet again thrust into war. Many people from both sides had been killed and the Minutemen’s numbers were suffering because of it. With the fight against the Brotherhood of Steel and the Railroad once again focusing on fighting the Institute, a new group that had swallowed the Triggermen and were making a play in the metro area of Boston meant the Minutemen were stretched thin and everyday citizens had had enough. Most were arming themselves and taking to killing anyone they suspected of being a raider. Some thought it was about time but others had grown accustomed to the new general’s proposition. She wanted to do things the way the old world did: leave the raiders, thieves, murderers and other less than pleasant people of the Commonwealth in the hands of a force that was dedicated to taking care of those problems and serving up their own brand of justice dependent on the severity of the crime.

“How ‘bout we kill this bitch and put his head on pike, boys? That way his buddies know not to fuck with us.”

“Tre.” Jelani exhaled slowly as the word left his mouth. Once he felt his lungs empty and right before he inhaled again he pulled the trigger. At the same time he pulled the trigger and the .50 bullet flew out of the silenced barrel of Gungnir Dagny took off with such speed and power her hind legs kicked up the dirt from beneath her paws. The bullet pierced the farmer’s head, the entry point being his left ear and before his body could hit the ground Dagny had pounced on the man holding the bat, the man Jelani had pointed to. She snapped her jaws around his throat. With the momentum she’d gathered as she ran she managed to bring him down to the ground where she proceeded to bite down as hard as she could and pulled so hard her claws dug into the man’s flesh. An almost gross orchestra of her vicious snarls and the man’s gurgled screaming filled the air.

The third man had turned to run but Angelus quickly moved to pick up the switchblade the other farmer had pressed against his neck and tossed it as hard as he could. The blade sunk into the back of his head, he was dead by the time he hit the ground. Angelus then turned around and saw a familiar face emerge from the tall grass, he was still tense from the ordeal but as soon as he recognized him the raider relaxed a bit.

Jelani reached into his coat and took out a silenced .22 pistol. He aimed it at the man Dagny was currently mauling and in a serious tone said, “Gi slipp.” As soon as he said it Dagny released the man and walked over to Jelani, she sat right by his feet while he took aim and shot the farmer in the head.

Once the last of the farmers was dealt with both Jelani and Angelus stood still and stared at each other in silence, it wasn’t awkward by any means, it was more like both of them were carefully analyzing the situation they found themselves in.

“Well, this is a surprise.” Angelus broke the silence once he gathered Jelani wasn’t a threat to him, he figured if he was there to kill him he would’ve been the first one he would’ve shot just to make sure he wouldn’t get away. “Didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“You okay?” Jelani asked as he put the .22 away.

“Yeah, yeah. Just…assholes caught me off guard, you know?” He waved off the mercenary’s concerns, mostly out of embarrassment that he’d been jumped by a pack of farmers. Pissed off farmers but farmers nonetheless.

“Where you headed?”

“I was uh…hmm…” Angelus was actually on his way back to Nuka World from Egret Tours, a settlement he’d befriended some time ago, but he wasn’t about to give that information out to just anyone. It was a tumultuous time to be a raider in Boston, even worse if you were a raider from outside of Boston. Angelus was in no hurry to get back to Nuka World so he smiled and said, “Wasn��t actually going anywhere in particular. What about you? You look like you’re getting ready to cause some serious damage.”

“Contract.”

“Not much of a talker are you?” Angelus chuckled as he relaxed a little more.

“Nope.” Jelani looked down at Dagny who happily looked back at him and snapped his fingers while saying, “Kom igjen.” Dagny stood back up and walked beside him as both headed south.

Angelus watched as both of them kept walking to wherever it was that they were heading and stood still. He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t wanna stay in the Commonwealth a little longer. Life in Nuka World was beginning to feel stressful with the gangs getting worked up over Colter ignoring everyone’s pleas to expand their territory into the other parks. Plenty of people guessed it was only a matter of time before war broke out between the gangs and while some welcomed it others like Angelus were worried. He had friends in other gangs that he’d rather not kill over some bullshit started by unrest because of Colter’s lazy ass. The less time he spent in Nuka World the lesser the chances of him being involved in an all out war. Now, he could go back to Egret, he was free to come and go as he pleased, but as he looked at the mercenary another idea crawled its way into his head.

“Hey!” Angelus called out and the mercenary and the little night stalker both turned around to look at him as he ran up to them. “Mind if I tag along?”

Jelani jerked his head back as he stared at the raider in confusion, “Why?”

“Well, I’m in no hurry to be anywhere specific and maybe I can help since you helped me with those guys.”

Jelani slightly tilted his head sideways and furrowed his brow as he looked at the raider. He then looked at Dagny who looked up at him and as if she was somehow trying to voice her opinion she let out a yap and wagged her tail while rhythmically stomping her front paws on the ground and panting excitedly. Jelani shrugged as he turned back to the raider and Dagny made her way to greet him.

“Angelus, right?”

“Yeah.” Angelus answered with a pleasantly surprised tone. He doesn’t remember ever introducing himself to him, not now and much less the first time they met. However, the girls that stitched up the mercenary’s injuries did call him by his name so he guessed he picked up on it and remembered. He was honestly impressed. But then again Angelus was really bad at remembering names so someone remembering his name after hearing it once a few weeks back made him smile.

“That’s Dagny.”

Angelus crouched down to pet the little night stalker who happily wagged her tail as Angelus scratched her behind her ears with one hand and rubbed her chest with the other while cooing at her.

“Pretty name for such a pretty girl. Yes, you are.” He gleefully squealed as he continued to pet her, he then looked up at the mercenary and while still petting Dagny said, “What kinda dog is she anyway?”

“Technically she’s not a dog, she’s a night stalker. Most people just refer to her as a dog anyway.”

“Makes sense, I mean she looks a little like a dog and acts like one too. Where’d you get her?”

“New Vegas.”

“Goddamn, you’re a long way from New Vegas. The hell brought you to this dump anyway?” Angelus looked up and saw Jelani’s expression shift ever so slightly. He was still serious but there was something else behind his expression, mostly in his eyes, that Angelus couldn’t quite put his finger on and soon realized he may have asked the wrong question. He quickly stood up and in an attempt to move the conversation to another direction, and still get a little bit of information out of the mercenary, he quickly said, “Okay, so this is Dagny. What about you?”

“Jelani.” He whispered as he lowered his gaze and turned around to continue walking south. Angelus thought it best to stop asking questions for now even though he was tempted to but he knew better.

The three of them made their way south and after almost forty minutes they were nearing a large settlement called Jamaica Plain which peaked Angelus’s curiosity. With how well armed Jelani was he was sure the contract he was fulfilling was a hit so he prepared himself for a fight. However, instead of walking directly into Jamaica Plain Jelani veered off to the west several yards from the settlement and kept walking. Angelus curiously followed behind him. He was about to ask why he was heading in that direction but his question was answered when Jelani began to climb up part of the broken down highway. It was a bit of a steep climb but both of them made it to the highest point of the highway that comfortably overlooked the large settlement. Once in place Jelani put his backpack and sniper rifle down beside him and sat down as he looked over the settlement. He seemed at ease so Angelus figured he’d sit down too. He walked over to Jelani and Dagny and sat close to Jelani and silently looked over the settlement though his eyes would occasionally dart over to the mercenary. He was as easy on the eyes as he remembered him. At one point Angelus looked him up and down and felt the corners of his mouth hike up to form a smile. It wasn’t so much that he was easy on the eyes, he found him exceptionally pretty. From the very moment he first laid eyes on him he couldn’t help but be taken aback, the only reason Angelus helped him was because he was almost instantly smitten or at least that’s what he tells himself just to convince himself he’s at the very least somewhat decent. Had Jelani stayed in Egret that night Angelus had planned to make a move on the mercenary if his head injury permitted. Even now he wanted to make a move but he was sure he’d be turned down while he was yet to finish the contract so Angelus was left with fantasizing and imagining what was hiding under that coat.

“So…” Angelus began as he averted his eyes, “What uh…what are we doing here?”

“Waiting.” Jelani answered as he looked back at Angelus who gave him a look as if waiting for him to elaborate on why they were sitting on a broken highway. He sighed as he came to terms with the fact that his current companion was a lot more talkative than Jelani was comfortable with. He wasn’t angry about that, in fact, he saw it as an opportunity to relearn social skills he’d lost in the few months he’d been in Boston. Since he got there he hardly spoke or socialized with anyone. He had so many fears and so much anxiety and paranoia that it made it hard to even talk to people, even now he was fighting back against the intrusive thoughts he’d been haunted by since the day after his father found him in that basement. He looked down to see Dagny curled up and asleep next to him, he took the little night stalker’s relaxation as a sign that the raider next to him was safe for now so he gathered up his courage, inhaled and indulged the raider’s curiosity. “Ex-Gunner turned Minuteman. Was contacted through a friend who introduced us. Guy abandoned his post and joined the Minutemen so now this Gunner’s looking for some payback.”

“And why are we waiting? Why not just go down there, lure him out and kill ‘im or are we waiting for nighttime to sneak in there and kill ‘im in his sleep?”

“Nah, too much trouble. His shift usually starts at 1400, he patrols the north road where the diner is. That entire road is his until his shift ends at 1900. Take him out once he’s out there.”

“1400? What’s that?”

“Another way of saying 2:00 pm. Twenty-four hour format or as some people say military time. There’s NCR and Enclave with a little bit of Brotherhood of Steel in my family history.” Jelani was hesitant sharing that information and he immediately regretted it though there was nothing he could do about that now. He made a mental note to be more careful going further.

“Wait,” Angelus began to chuckle, “You’re an army brat? Oh, my god, that is hilarious and makes so much sense.”

“How so?”

“The way you took out those two farmers! I never even heard you approach us and that was a clean shot. I’ve never seen shit like that before. Not to mention how well trained your dog is. Also you’re, like, serious all the time.”

“Um, I guess.”

Jelani lowered his gaze and turned to look at the settlement below. He was starting to feel uncomfortable with the way Angelus was staring and smiling, he was well aware that he wasn’t going to hurt him but his mind was wandering to a place he didn’t want to go to, not now that he was feeling relaxed and surprised that he was actually interacting with another person. He focused on a brahmin and watched its movements carefully as he took deep breaths and exhaled as a way to calm himself in order to avoid another panic attack. With every breath he could feel his heart rate slowing down. Surprisingly the preparation he did whenever he was getting ready to make a long range shot on his sniper was exactly what helped him to calm down. Despite the rumors snipers don’t have the ability to stop their heartbeats, however, they can do specific breathing exercises to relax their bodies, slow down their breathing and maintain a type of control over their heartbeats that allows them to pull the trigger at the exact right moment to avoid movement even microscopic ones.

“So where you from?” Angelus asked almost absentmindedly and as soon as he realized what he asked and remembering Jelani’s earlier reaction he sort of flinched.

“Capital Wasteland. Was there till I was around eleven or twelve.”

“Really? Wow, I heard that place was messed the fuck up.” Angelus was surprised his question hadn’t caused any discomfort and was relieved to see Jelani was starting to relax around him.

“It is but then again what place isn’t nowadays. What about you? From your accent I figured maybe from somewhere in the south.”

“Yeah,” Angelus’s face brightened as a huge smile formed on his face. Not many people could make that connection, “from some bum fuck middle of nowhere town in Mississippi. Not a very nice place, full of just mean people, mean critters and a big ass radioactive stinky river full of some foul ass shit that will kill you if you get too close to it. Kind of miss it.”

“Sounds charming.” Jelani chuckled and smiled.

Angelus couldn’t help but stare at him, he was gorgeous and his pale blue eyes seemed to light up when he smiled. Angelus caught himself staring and as he felt his cheeks flare up he looked away and said, “Noticed you have one too, an accent I mean, it sounds weird. Not a bad weird, I mean just weird weird. That wasn’t English that you spoke to your dog earlier was it?”

“No, it wasn’t. Turns out that before the war some family came here and were trapped once the war started. Two hundred years later and I’m the last in that line.”

“Do you know where they were from?”

“Norway.”

“So is that language from where your family’s from?”

“Yeah, they kept passing it down and my dad taught me how to speak, write and read it, Norwegian by the way, before he taught me English so I learned English the same way he was taught.”

“We might have something sort of in common. According to my mom my dad was some caravan trader whose family was actually from Russia, they’d actually made it here some thirty something years before my dad was born. I don’t know what Russians spoke though. Only Russian word I know is my last name: Malakhov. So is it just you and your dad and your dog?”

“It’s just me and Dagny…my dad’s dead.” What Jelani really wanted to say was that his dad was dead because of him but given that he wasn’t ready to come to terms with that he simply left it at that and lowered his gaze as his smile faded and his expression turned somber.

Angelus picked up on the sudden change and he moved closer to Jelani till both of their shoulders were touching. Jelani jumped at the feeling of coming into contact with someone else. His immediate instinct was to pull away but he didn’t, he turned to look at Angelus who had a sympathetic look on his face and in a soft tone said, “My mom’s dead too. She got really sick and just kept getting worse and worse until she died. I later went to live with an old raider turned merc until one day he just didn’t come back home, figured he died out there somewhere. It’s just been me ever since. Hell, I don’t even have a dog.” He pointed at Dagny and then looked back at Jelani.

“Technically…” Jelani started, he waved off the need to safeguard himself by not revealing anything about himself to anyone, “my dad was actually my brother.”

Angelus coughed as he tried his hardest not to laugh so he bit his lips and said in a strained voice, “Oh, sweet pea, you sure you ain’t from the south?”

It took him a few seconds but Jelani started to laugh once he realized that the sentence had come off as a little strange and he needed to elaborate otherwise it would look like his family tree was going in circles. “Ja, pretty sure. What I mean is that my parents died when I was almost two-years-old and my brother who was seventeen at the time took care of me. I honestly don’t remember my parents, sometimes I can sort of remember little details but not enough to form an actual memory of either of them. I think it’s better that way, how are you gonna grieve someone you had no attachment to? So my brother raised me, he’s been the only parent I’ve actually known so I started calling him dad and it just stuck. I used to forget he was my brother and not my actual dad but neither of us cared. Now he’s gone. Irony of it all is we both lost our parents at the same age.”

Jelani was surprised at himself, he revealed a lot more than he had anticipated and it was the first time he thought about Loke without breaking down into hysterics and the first time he spoke about him since he died. He couldn’t explain it but talking to Angelus about it felt like a weight had been lifted off him, ever since Loke died he felt like he was pinned to the ground by a massive boulder that got heavier and heavier as the days passed but talking to him about it alleviated it, or at least some of it. He took a deep breath and let out a nervous sigh, or maybe it was a sigh of relief, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps that sensation was what Loke and the caravan doctor had talked about when they told him he needed to talk to someone about what had happened that night but he hadn’t been ready, he still wasn’t sure if he’d ever be ready to relive that horrible experience that ripped away something from deep inside him.

Angelus stayed quiet for a few minutes and just watched Jelani. He couldn’t put his finger on it but he thought there was something else that he wasn’t telling him. His tone and words felt genuine yet he could tell there was something he was holding back but he didn’t dare to push the subject matter, not now that he was getting him to open up to him. He went from one word answers to full blown sentences and didn’t wanna scare him into shutting down again so he did what he knew best and decided to distract him.

“So, Jay, have you heard about the Jamaica Plain treasure controversy yet?”

“I’m sorry, the what?” Jelani turned and gave Angelus the most confused expression he could muster. That sentence was one of the most ridiculous ones he’d heard since he reached Boston.

“Oh, sugar, you’re gonna love this. For a very long time there was a rumor that there were riches hidden in Jamaica Plain. What was it? No one knew, some people said it was a building full of caps, some people said there was a secret hidden vault around the place. Other people said that before the war people hid powerful weapons somewhere down there and some said that there was gold. I don’t know what the blue hell gold is but it got some people’s underwear in a tussle.”

“Wait, who started that rumor?”

“Hush your pretty lips. Now, there were some people that thought it was all bullshit and said it was probably a trap to lure morons to their deaths. About three years ago when the Minutemen picked back up there was a group of settlers who came to JP and well, settled! That got everyone up in arms, you had raiders trying to find the treasure, had Gunners, Triggermen, farmers, mercs, ghouls, humans, Diamond City folks left their little safety nest for goodness’s sake! And those bitches are too scared to go anywhere! Everyone came down here to fight the settlers and claim the treasure. Sure as the sun sets there was a mini type of war with hundreds of people searching every fuckin’ building for the treasure or at the very least clues. Now, you see that building down there? The one with the blown up statue in front of it?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

“Okay, so everyone was looking everywhere except for that one. This farmer goes in and looks all over the place, another one sneaks in and people start to notice and soon everyone is running for that building and they’re trashing the place looking for the treasure. Someone finds a door to a basement and they manage to break it down and now you got hundreds of people trying to make their way in. Supposedly there were hundreds of traps everywhere and people start dyin’ or getting injured but they push on anyway ‘cause they figured that the traps mean they’re getting close. So after fighting through traps, hacking security systems, fighting off crazed robots and each other they finally make it the treasure.”

“It was real?” Jelani asked with a dubious tone and expression.

“I shit you not the treasure was a room full of some old world junk put up on display as if it was the greatest fuckin’ thing since unguarded caps. There were hair brushes, some clothing items, junk, a pretty much useless terminal and the most “useful” item there was a wooden bat. Someone even left a holotape that had an inventory of all the “treasure” and someone actually wrote a goddamn speech talkin’ ‘bout how these were special items that people back then used and shit. Well, shitfire, we still use them! Sort of!”

“I legitimately hate it here…” Jelani replied with a monotone voice and an incredulous look on his face as he blinked at Angelus as if somehow trying to make sense of the entire thing. “I’m almost afraid to ask what the fuck happened after they found that shit.”

“Nothing. Nothing happened. Everyone just quietly left the building and went wherever the fuck they came from. The wounded were tended to in the settlement and the dead were buried and everyone went home. Soon as word got out about what happened everyone denied being there, hundreds of jackasses and all of ‘em deny ever being anywhere near Jamaica Plain. Everyone that participated outright denies they were ever even here looking for that shit. Honestly? I think it’s pretty fuckin’ funny. Motherfuckers back then had a nasty sense of humor for sure.”

“What the hell is wrong with everyone here?”

“Oh!” Angelus excitedly said as he playfully hit Jelani’s arm as he remembered yet another story he picked up while in Egret. “Have you heard of the haunted quarry yet?”

“That’s it, I’m getting the fuck out of this fucking place.”

“It’s true! Or…at least they say it’s true. Pack of Minutemen had gone in to clear out the raiders that were in that quarry but supposedly the raider leading that group lost her mind and killed all the other raiders. The terminals were full of really weird entries about voices, visions, quakes and something about the light. Only one of those Minutemen came back and he ain’t been right since. He’s up in Sanctuary ‘cause he didn’t wanna live anywhere near that quarry. To this day he says there’s something ancient and super evil living down there. I forgot the name of the quarry…something sun or maybe dumb itch?”

Jelani’s eyes widened in horror as the two words sounded eerily similar to the name of a building with a less than spectacular reputation back in the Capital. He’d only heard stories and every time he asked Loke about it Loke would quickly change the subject. For a few seconds he couldn’t remember the name but repeating the two words Angelus said in his head instantly made him remember so he turned to Angelus and in an almost deadpan tone said, “You mean Dunwich?”

“That’s the fucker’s name!” Angelus said in an excited tone but then quickly turned serious. “How did you know?”

“Uh…back in the Capital there was this old building people talked about with that exact name. It was weird, every time us kids would bring it up all the grown ups would just change the subject and if we kept pushing they’d just tell us to drop it. There was this old man that lived in the area and he used to talk about it if we brought him beer. According to him, that building was sitting on some gateway or something. Apparently a lot of people that went in either died or came back wrong and there was something about some vault dweller and a book.”

“Ew, that’s…a pretty creepy coincidence.”

“I kinda wanna see this quarry.”

“Well, you’re shit out of luck, sugar. Minutemen have that thing locked down.”

“Hva i helvete? Why?”

“That was kind of a recent development and it’s up for debate as to whether it was to keep the curious out to avoid people getting hurt or lost in the quarry but a lot of us think it has something to do with the Children of Atom. Something kind of weird is happening within their ranks. A lot of ‘em have been turning up dead by their own members. A lot of them are relocating to the Glowing Sea and the few that are left have stopped being really hostile and have turned reclusive. I think they’re up to something.”

“Those quacks are always up to something. There was a lady in Bunker Hill that was keeping track of ‘em and said they’re all avoiding the coastline. Apparently there’s something in the water that they don’t like.”

“Don’t blame ‘em. Probably Ol’ Peg.”

“Oh, that is not real.”

“Lemme know when you have some free time and I’ll take you to Salem. Something…interesting…happened there four years ago.”

“A’ight, but it better be as interesting as you’re making it out to be.” Jelani teased playfully as he pointed at Angelus and smiled. He then reached over to his backpack and retrieved some binoculars as it was close to his target’s shift and he wanted to be ready.

“Promise. And if it turns out to be a dud I have a pretty good idea of how we could salvage the day.”

Confused and a little weirded out by the way he said it Jelani turned to look at Angelus who had a particularly mischievous smile on his face. It didn’t feel malicious but the implication, which Jelani picked up on, sent a cold shiver up and down his spine. He honestly didn’t know what to say so he gave him a forced smile that quickly left his lips and turned to focus on the job at hand.

On the other hand Angelus didn’t pick up on Jelani’s uneasiness and chucked his lack of a response to getting ready for the target. He moved closer to Jelani and watched him eagerly as Jelani scoped the area below them for the target. He wanted to say something but he didn’t want to distract him and cost him whatever caps were promised for the ex-Gunner. His eyes slowly darted from his face, down to his shoulders, his back, hips and down his legs.

“What?”

“Nothing!” Startled by Jelani’s question he looked up to see Jelani looking at him and somewhat frowning at him as if he’d caught him red handed in what he was doing. He thanked whatever was out there that he couldn’t hear all the shit he was thinking as he traced his body with his eyes. “See him yet?” Angelus misdirected the conversation to avoid the awkwardness from building further.

“Not yet.”

“And how do you know what he looks like? I mean, I never really thought about how mercs know what their targets look like.”

“Descriptions for the most part. Very few people have access to working cameras and they give the target’s picture if they’re able to get a shot of them. Even dealt with one very pissed off caravan guard who had a recorder and showed me video of the target. Some old world stuff still works if you manage to fix it. Sure, the quality isn’t what it used to be but it gets the job done.”

“Yeah, old merc I used to live with had a wrist watch that, according to him, his great grandfather found after he traveled east. Managed to fix it and passed it down. Of course, knowing him he stole it and fabricated the story to go along with the watch. Guy was a bit of a compulsive liar, it was hard to get the truth out of him if you didn’t know him. I still have the darn thing but it doesn’t work anymore, somebody told me the gears got stuck or something like that.”

“I actually know of someone that can help with that. Some old caravan merchant I worked for for a few weeks has a contact that can fix literally anything. Pretty sure he can tackle a simple watch.” Jelani said as he lowered the binoculars and looked at Angelus who was smiling at him.

“Really? That’d be great! Can’t tell time for shit but it’d be nice to have the thing working again.”

“It ain’t hard, I can show you.” Jelani stopped mid sentence as he slightly jerked his head back. He seemed pretty upfront about making plans with this raider he barely knew, he couldn’t take back what was already said so he decided to reel it back a bit. “If you want.”

“Sure.” Angelus replied as his eyes softened as he looked back at him.

Both of them stared at each other for a few seconds. Angelus was slowly inching closer and closer and as soon as Jelani noticed he loudly cleared his throat and said, “Guy should be out on patrol soon.” He looked into the binoculars once more and began to search the area for his target.

Angelus kept staring at him and smiling as he said, “Is it 2:00 already?”

“Yeap,” While still looking through the binoculars Jelani pointed forward as the target left one of the buildings close to the old church, “and there he is.”

Jelani handed the binoculars to Angelus and directed him to where the target was. As Angelus watched him make his way to his designated area Jelani looked at Angelus. At first he was listening to what he was saying but the more he looked at him the more his voice faded away as he looked at him. His eyes traced over his sharp jawline, then his neck and throat, his arms, his chest and stomach until his eyes settled on his thighs. A thought crossed his mind, one he didn’t think he would have ever again but as his eyes trailed up his thighs towards his crotch Jelani shook his head and turned to look at the target. Panic was starting to rise within him so he focused on the task at hand as to avoid yet another panic attack.

“You okay?” Angelus asked as soon as he looked at Jelani.

“Ja, I’m fine.”

“So what now?”

Jelani didn’t answer. He grabbed his sniper rifle and while still keeping an eye on the target he laid down on his stomach while aiming the silenced rifle towards the target. Once he was comfortable he inhaled, held the air in his lungs for a few seconds and then exhaled. This was something he always did right before taking a shot but now he was doing it to calm himself as well. There were a lot of caps riding on this job and he didn’t want to screw it up over a panic attack from staring at the man sitting next to him. He continued to breathe in the same manner as he looked through the scope, one of his fingers was carefully coiled around the trigger while he adjusted the scope with his other hand.

Angelus watched in awe at the intricate and almost ritualistic manner in which Jelani prepared himself. He wasn’t exactly good with guns, all he knew was to aim and pull the trigger in the hopes that the bullet would hit whatever he wanted dead or injured. For most of his life he was the type to rush down his victims and beat them to death with a crowbar, any blunt object he could get his hands on or a gun that was out of ammo. His strengths mostly lied in hand to hand combat which he was pretty good at. He knew his strengths and weaknesses and used that knowledge to his advantage. However, he had a huge admiration for people who could handle rifles and bigger weapons especially sniper rifles. He watched carefully as Jelani made very subtle adjustments in his position as the target moved. He kept looking at him and couldn’t help but smile as he looked at Jelani lying on the ground flat on his stomach with his legs spread open. The temptation to reach out was getting to him so he turned to look at the target through the binoculars Jelani had handed him while occasionally looking at Jelani with the corner of his eye.

Jelani had managed to calm himself down and was tracing the target’s movement. He lazily walked from what he assumed was his home towards the diner from the backroad of the huge settlement. Once Jelani adjusted to his speed he managed to keep his crosshairs on the target’s temple. The backroad was empty now that the guard patrolling the area had turned to patrol the adjacent road. Now was the right time to take his shot as it would take a few minutes for people to notice the body giving him and Angelus plenty of time to get a head start to leave the area. The target was now about thirty feet from reaching the diner road where plenty of people were. He’d been able to keep up with the target’s speed and height, as he did he calculated the speed of the wind and the humidity in the air to come up with the best time and angle to fire so the bullet could hit the target.

Jelani inhaled as he moved the crosshairs a few inches in front of his target’s head, at the same time he tightened his grip on the trigger. He exhaled as he blinked once and as soon as the last bit of oxygen left his lungs he pulled the trigger, the recoil from the anti-material sniper rifle made his entire body shake. But as soon as Jelani regained control he looked through the scope to confirm the kill. The ex-Gunner’s lifeless body hit the ground as half of his face was gone and turned to a bloody sludge on the asphalt.

“Goddamn, Haakonson!” Angelus cried out in awe as he kept staring at the body and the blown out head on the ex-Gunner.

“Keep quiet and move!” Jelani said as he folded the bipod on the rifle and flung the carry sling over himself so that the sniper could be carried easily and his hands were free. He grabbed his backpack and took out the silenced .22 and as soon as he had it he put the backpack on his back and nodded to Dagny who quickly got on her feet and stuck close to him.

Angelus quickly put the binoculars in Jelani’s backpack and ran next to him. He wasn’t sure why they had to run but he obeyed. Both of them made their way down the broken highway and as soon as they reached the ground they ran as fast as they could.

The day before Jelani had scouted the area for the best exit route. He’d come up with three different escape routes that depended on different outcomes. He didn't have time to think of the others, since they hadn't been caught and it seemed like the body hadn't been found yet he focused on the one route he had for his current situation. Jamaica Plain was a massive settlement and escaping the reach of the settlers would prove a challenge if anything went wrong. Worst part was that University Point was a few yards away, it was a sort of sister settlement founded after Jamaica Plain faced an overpopulation problem before it expanded.

Jelani ran north, as he had planned, making sure to steer clear of University Point and sticking to staying under the highway that was between both settlements. The three of them ran as fast and as quietly as possible but as they neared University Point they were startled when the unmistakable sound of an alarm siren went off. Jelani stopped in the middle of some shrubs and got low to the ground. Out of instinct he grabbed Angelus' hand and pulled him down as he watched the guards at University Point scramble to look in the direction of Jamaica Plain. They still hadn't been spotted but Jelani was watchful in case the guards noticed them.

“They found a body with his head blown off in Jamaica!” One of the guards yelled at another guard.

From the front gate of University Point a group of armed and armored guards ran as fast as they could towards the settlement. The boys saw they were running in their direction and out of panic Angelus motioned to move but Jelani squeezed his hand. Angelus looked at him with panic in his eyes but the young mercenary quietly shook his head. Angelus looked up and saw the guards running past them, they never even noticed them hiding in the shrubs. When he could no longer hear the guards' footsteps Jelani stood back up, still holding Angelus’ hand, and ran west occasionally looking back in case they were spotted but they managed to make a clean getaway.

They stuck to the south of the nearby Boston Military Checkpoint and avoided Big John’s Salvage as it had been overrun by raiders after the pack of Super Mutants that had taken it over were killed off. Jelani wanted to move as fast as he could, the checkpoint was usually full of Minutemen and while they were constantly at war with the Minutemen he wanted to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. The area south of Boston was always dangerous but it was even more dangerous now than it was four years ago thanks to raiders and Gunners expanding their reach. Jelani, Angelus and Dagny carefully made their way towards Shaw High School though Angelus was nervous. Everyone knew the Gunners had expanded their territory beyond the Gunner Plaza. It took them well over half a year but the Gunners took over Fallon’s Department Store, West Roxbury Station, and the Milton General Hospital for themselves as their numbers increased over the last two years with raiders and ex-Brotherhood of Steel soldiers joining their ranks once the Brotherhood was defeated. The old high school had been turned into a warehouse of sorts after it was taken back from the Super Mutants who’d set up a trap to lure in unsuspecting victims with a recorded message. Angelus was nervous about the direction they were headed to but he didn’t question it, he just followed Jelani and Dagny.

Once the high school was in sight Jelani deviated to the broken down building across from the school. It barely had any real cover and felt exposed but Jelani walked to the back of the building and sat down on a chair looking across the way towards the entrance to the high school and lit a cigarette.

“C’mon. We might be here for a while.” Jelani said as he nodded to the chair next to him.

Angelus walked over to the chair next to him and sat down. Jelani offered a cigarette which Angelus was more than happy to take and stared at the scenery before them. He was still nervous about the area they were in but seeing Jelani so relaxed and calm was indication enough that nothing would happen. Even if something did happen he just witnessed him make one of the cleanest kills and smoothest escapes he had ever seen in his life. He was already impressed with him but the way he calmly handled the situation made a huge impression on Angelus and given the life he’s lived so far he’s not that easy to impress.

“What are we waiting for this time?” Angelus asked.

“Gunner that hired me said that as soon as the job was done to wait for him here. Said I didn’t need to bring back evidence; he’d know when the target would be taken care of. Not really sure how but hey, easier for me. Guy’s supposed to be in the school today and as soon as he finds out he’ll come over with the caps.”

“Thought Gunners didn’t hire outsiders to handle their own shit.”

“Well, usually they don’t from what I’ve seen. Guy wasted no time in threatening me if I said anything. He didn’t want his superiors to catch wind of a recruit he recommended turning into a Minuteman so he got in contact with a contact of mine.”

“I gotta admit, that shit was impressive. I mean, the way you handled yourself? I woulda been shot dead had you not squeezed my hand. The way you handle your sniper is crazy. I can barely hold a gun right and you’re out here blowing skulls in half. How long have you been at that?”

“Oh…like…eleven years now. My dad let me handle the damn thing since I was seven-years-old. I used to joke that I wasn’t raised, I was trained.”

“Hey, better than most of us. Your dad tried to prepare you for everything out here. You’re out here earning caps on your own, killing people from a mile away and making some of the smoothest and cleanest escapes I’ve ever seen. You know what my dumb ass was doing at eighteen? I was in the back of bars blowing guys’ backs out and getting drunk as shit and probably high as shit too.”

“I guess.” Jelani chuckled, however his smile faded as soon as he saw the front door to the school open and from the building emerged a rather rogued and miserable looking man dressed in Gunner attire. He looked around before making his way to the broken down building where Jelani and Angelus were waiting.

As soon as the man approached them his expression turned even more sour than it already was as he stared at Angelus and then at Jelani. Dagny quickly stood up, she quickly made her way towards Jelani and stood in front of him and as soon as the man saw her he took a step back though his expression remained the same.

“I thought you worked alone, Haakonson.”

“I do. He’s one of my contacts; told him to meet me here.”

“Fine. Here’s the caps.” The man reached into his jacket and pulled out a cigarette cartoon, the unmistakable sound of caps crashing together jingled within it. “There’s a little gratitude bump in there too for being discreet about it.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, and an acquaintance of mine might reach out to your contact in two to three weeks depending on some circumstances. We’ve kind of got some Minutemen problems at the moment, I suggest you steer clear of the area around Corvega. Might get a little intense.”

“Will do.” Jelani replied and made a mental note of the information to pass along to Varg as soon as he was able to contact him.

The Gunner turned around and walked back to the high school where he was stationed for the day and as soon as the doors closed behind him Jelani turned to Angelus and the three of them carefully made their way out of the area.

As they walked on Jelani noticed it was getting late and Angelus was still with him. Normally he wouldn’t care what time it was, he never brought anyone back home with him, the only person to know where he was currently living was Varg because the bunker was originally found by him and since he had no need of it he handed the keys to Jelani. However, Jelani admitted he had a pleasant time with the raider and part of him felt bad about leaving him out to dry at sun down. If the wasteland was dangerous during the day, it was worse at night and he didn’t want Angelus to find himself in the middle of a dangerous situation by himself. As nervous as it made him, Jelani offered for Angelus to stay the night as he wasn’t sure how far off he was from the area they were in. He could’ve offered to go with him but he learned years ago that traveling lonely roads at night by yourself was a bad idea and more often than not a fatal one.

As they approached the bunker, which was at the base of a relay tower Dagny barked excitedly and ran ahead of them. Angelus watched as the little night stalker sniffed around the area and after circling the outside and the main door she sat down by the door and looked in their direction as she wagged her tail.

“Checking for intruders.”

“What?” Angelus replied in a confused tone as he then looked at Jelani who was smiling at him. He’d noticed he was staring at Dagny as she checked the perimeter and answered his question before he asked it.

“She’s checking the area in case there’s any intruders around.” Jelani realized how it made him sound paranoid so he turned to look ahead of him. Before there was a chance for Angelus to ask a follow up question he shrugged and said, “Eh, just in case.”

Angelus didn’t think anything of it, in fact, he thought it was down right brilliant. Big John’s Salvage was teeming with rowdy raiders from the southern parts outside of Boston, to the south were the Gunners that had expanded their territories, Fairline Hill Estates was taken over by some rather disturbed Children of Atom, Jelani was surrounded by all sorts of nasty groups and the least he could do to keep himself safe was use his dog to scope the area and not get a surprise ambush. However, the truth was a little less ideal. Ever since the assault Jelani was paranoid that any of his attackers would’ve found him and snuck into the bunker or someone else with the same type of intention was waiting around the corner to jump him so to keep him from becoming too paranoid he taught Dagny to check the bunker for unfamiliar scents that lingered. So far, the bunker has never been broken into. Angelus was gonna ask a question but when he turned to look at Jelani he saw he had a bit of a solemn look on his face so he dropped it, he was still curious but he figured he could ask it later when Jelani seemed a little more at ease.

They made it to the bunker and once inside Angelus looked around to see a security gate with a heavy security door in the corner of the ten by fifteen bunker. Inside the security gate was a lone console. On the other corner was an elevator though he noticed the panel was ripped out and he wondered how it was supposed to work without it. His question was answered when Jelani reached into his jacket and took out an old rusty key and opened the door. He quickly got on the console and after a few seconds Angelus was startled by the sound of the elevator door creaking open.

“Go on, I’ll be there in a second. Just gotta lock up.” Jelani said as he fiddled with the console.

Angelus walked over to the elevator and waited inside, behind him was Dagny who sat at his feet and looked up at him as her tail wagged. Angelus smiled wide as the strange little dog looked at him. He always loved dogs and to see one, or one that looked like one, acting so friendly towards was pleasant. When he heard Jelani locking up the gate he looked up and saw a large panel on the inside wall of the elevator, there were over a dozen buttons and he wondered how many floors the bunker had beneath it. After Jelani locked up the security gate and the main door he made his way into the elevator where Angelus watched him press four different buttons, the last one he pressed twice in quick succession. After that the elevator began to descend.

After a few minutes the doors opened to reveal a short stretch of concrete and pipes lit up by red light bulbs along the roof of the hallway. At the end was a heavy metallic door. Jelani and Dagny left the elevator and walked down the intimidating looking hallway and Angelus followed close by. Less than a minute later they got to the door and next to it was a keycard reader which Jelani used to slide a keycard he had in his jacket and as soon as a small light lit up in a brilliant green color the heavy metallic door opened. 

Angelus watched Jelani turn right as soon as he walked past the door. He set his backpack down in front of a shelf that was full to capacity in old but readable books, the top of the shelf had five small pots with plants growing out of them. Once he set down his backpack Jelani kept walking towards a door past the shelf, it was small enough for Angelus to assume it was some sort of closet or storage area and seeing as how he walked in there with his sniper rifle and handgun but came back out without them he figured he was right. In front of the shelf was a black sofa, on the floor in front of it was a square black rug and pushed up against the wall next to the sofa was a small black couch. Next to the shelf was a small mattress, it was small enough to have once belonged to a baby or a toddler. On the mattress was a familiar toy, it was the blue teddy bear that one of his friends had given Dagny the day Angelus ran into Jelani for the first time. He couldn’t help but smile as he remembered that day. The way Jelani hugged Dagny when Angelus gave her back to him safe and sound was the most endearing thing he’d ever seen. Jelani was bleeding from the back of his head and all he did was worry about his dog who was soaking wet but otherwise unscathed. Angelus continued to look around. Next to the small couch was a door and further down was a very short hall and at the end of it was a drawer. He then turned to his left and saw a small but fully furnished and functioning kitchen. On one wall were several cabinets and at the base of those cabinets were two very clean bowls, one full of water and the other was currently empty. Dagny was currently drinking some water out of her bowl. In front of the bowls was a small table with two chairs facing each other and next to the table was a wall with a door. Given its position he guessed it could’ve been a pantry.

He then looked forward and saw a longer hallway, though not as long as the one they crossed to get to the actual bunker itself, on the walls in front of each other were two doors and at the end of the hall was a shelf full of trinkets and items. curiosity to get a closer look at the items was overwhelming but he’d do so later. Overall the bunker was small but cozy. The thing that stuck out to him the most was how clean and sterile everything looked. The kitchen was spotless and nothing was out of place, the cabinets, sink, fridge, counter and stove were clean. The kitchen table was clean and the chairs were actually perpendicular to each other and he’d dare even say they were perfectly aligned. The sofa and the small couch, the rug and even the small mattress, which he figured was Dagny’s bed, were so clean they looked brand new. He couldn’t see a single spot on them and whatever wear and tear they had were meticulously taken care of. Just like the kitchen table and the chairs these items were also perfectly aligned and he took notice of all the doors being closed. Not only was the bunker squeaky clean but everything was neatly put away and in its place. The place looked cleaner and better organized than that one working vault near Diamond City.

“How did you find this place?” Angelus asked as he continued to look around.

“Varg. Said he bumped into this place some twenty odd years after the bombs fell. Cleared it and has maintained it ever since. Let me stay here for as long as I want.”

“I take it Varg’s a ghoul?”

“Yeah, he is. He’s one of the pack of ghouls that lives in that massive ship to the south of Boston near Poseidon Energy.”

“I’ve heard of it but I haven’t seen it.” Angelus said as he moved over to the shelf full of books. He couldn’t read but books still fascinated him nonetheless. He looked at the letters along the spines of the books and wondered what they said, wondered what the books were about, and wondered if they were fun. Judging by the full shelf Jelani seemed to enjoy them. An idea crept into his head as he reached out and touched them along the spine and hoped he was correct in his assumption, otherwise his idea would be in vain and admittedly a little embarrassing.

“You read?” Jelani asked as he made his way into the kitchen.

“No. I actually can’t read.” Angelus responded truthfully and for the first time in his life he felt shame over the fact that he couldn’t read. It was funny, he never gave it a second thought but standing in front of that shelf and looking at the books and then looking back at Jelani a few things about him made sense. He wasn’t just smart he was what he and other raiders called “smart smart”, usually book smart people were easily taken advantage of or barely lasted out in the wastes by themselves but Jelani was proof that it wasn’t always the case. He was smart, highly trained, capable of surviving even on his own, obviously more than prepared for most anything that could come his way and as Angelus turned to look at him he admitted he was easy to look at too, certainly soft on the eyes, especially his face. He could easily sit around all day tracing his facial features with his eyes and not get bored.

“From the look of this shelf I’m guessing you do?”

“Oh, ja, that's pretty much all I do in my spare time. Every time I find a new one I haven’t read I take it or buy it or trade for it. Merchant I worked for some time ago stops every so often when she gets books in her inventory and I add ‘em to the list. If I know I’ll be gone for a while I leave a few caps hidden at the entrance and she leaves the books.” Jelani smiled at the end as he remembered his last interaction with the old merchant. She was a very sweet old thing that he grew fond of. She had a habit of finding and hoarding books just for him and thanks to her his collection grew more and more over time and he was thankful for it. On really bad days he often looked for any excuse not to lock himself in his room and put the barrel of a gun in his mouth and pull the trigger and as trivial as it may seem to others he sometimes told himself that if he went through with it he would be abandoning Dagny, wouldn’t see the old merchant again, and would not feel the thrill and joy of sitting on the sofa late at night as Dagny sat on his lap and he enjoyed a book he hadn’t read before.

“Speaking of which, that’s your half.” He said as he walked towards the table, he reached out and grabbed a small bag and tossed it to Angelus who caught it and looked at it in confusion. He then looked at the table and saw the cigarette carton that the Gunner had hidden the caps in.

“Half? But…why? I didn’t do anything.”

“Kept me company.” Jelani shrugged.

“That is nothing compared to what you did. You did all the work.”

“Hey, if those guards would’ve found us I wouldn’t have made it out by myself.”

“I highly doubt that, sweet pea. You look more than capable of handling some lowly Minutemen knockoffs.”

“Kan være…but either way, you were there with me and you didn’t have to.”

“Didn’t have to but, thanks, sweet pea.” Angelus said as he put the small bag of caps in his back pocket. He then walked up to the table as Jelani opened the door in the kitchen and turned on a light. Angelus could see several boxes, bottles and cans. His initial guess was correct, it was the pantry. He saw him come back out with several items, among them was a can of dog food and as soon as Dagny saw it she rushed over to sit by her bowls and patiently waited for her food.

Jelani laughed as he saw her and after setting down the items he grabbed a knife and opened the can of dog food and carefully poured the contents into the bowl. Once he stood back up he nodded towards the food and Dagny began to eat her meal. He chuckled once again and under his breath he muttered, “Flink pike.”

He then turned to Angelus and asked, “You hungry?”

“Enough to steal Dagny’s food.”

“A’ight, give me a few minutes. You okay with brahmin?”

“Absolutely! As bloody as you can, sweet pea.”

“Hyggelig!” Jelani exclaimed as he laughed.

Preparing dinner took about thirty minutes and as soon as it was done both boys sat down to eat. Angelus mostly poked at the vegetables while Jelani insisted it was a good idea to eat them and not feed them to Dagny. Aside from frowning at the vegetables and biting into them while making faces, Angelus kept regaling him with more stories about the Commonwealth. Some were as ridiculous as the Jamaica Plain one, others were more serious and others seemed more like exaggerated rumors that were made up. Every time Jelani laughed and smiled Angelus could feel little flutters in his chest and his cheeks lit up as he looked at him. There was something in the way he laughed that made Angelus feel like he did when he was a kid holding hands with a boy he liked, there was no denying it any more, he was falling for him and hard. The more he heard him talk the more he wanted to reach across the table and kiss him as deeply as he could though he restrained himself somehow. After they finished their meal Angelus volunteered to clean up while Jelani took a shower. The temptation to follow him into the bathroom almost felt like some type of test but once again he restrained himself. When Jelani was done he sat on the sofa and played a little with Dagny while Angelus took a shower. He really appreciated the fact that the bunker had a comfortable setup along with working pipes and plumbing, it was hard to find something like it in Nuka World. He may be a raider but he was very partial to being as clean as possible especially that night.

Once Angelus was done he sat on the sofa next to Dagny who was asleep next to Jelani with her head on his lap as Jelani absentmindedly caressed the back of her neck with his thumb. As much as he enjoyed playing with the small night stalker she was currently in his way. Regardless he sat down on the sofa and gently scratched her back. He looked down at Dagny and couldn’t help but smile. She was sweet, highly intelligent, loving and best of all there was nothing else like her in all of Boston.

“You really like dogs, don’t you?” Jelani broke the silence as he looked at Angelus and smiled.

“Yeah.” Angelus replied and as he did he looked up at Jelani and followed that up with, “Among other things.”

Angelus kept staring at Jelani. It hadn’t been till now that Jelani noticed his eyes were a shade of light gray, he hadn’t noticed before or at least looked at his face long enough to register his eye color. He was starting to feel some pressure build up the more Angelus kept looking at him and lightly smiling so in order to break it he said, “Huh, hadn’t noticed you have gray eyes.”

“Yeah, yours are pretty though.” Angelus said as he placed his right arm on the backrest of the sofa and leaned his head on his shoulder as he continued to look at him.

“Oh, please. It’s the second most common color.”

“Really?”

“Ja, blue’s the second most common eye color. Not sure why people make such a fuss about it, it’s just a lack of melanin in the iris. Yours though, that’s really rare.”

“What does melanin mean? And how do you know all this?”

“It’s what determines hair, eye, and skin color on people and animals. When my dad and I left DC we spent a week waiting out a storm in a university and I practically lived in the library for that whole week. Went through a lot of books which were mostly from the science department. After the storm let up I took as many as I could and over time traded them for ones I hadn’t read yet.”

“Fair but yours has my favorite color so I’m a little attached. That and they’re just really pale, they look a little weird.” Angelus moved closer to Jelani to get a better look at his eyes. He was being genuine, blue was his favorite color and the first thing that stuck out to him as soon as he saw him were his eyes.

“Weird?” Jelani questioned. He noticed Angelus was getting closer and part of him was nervous about someone else being that close to him. He figured he wanted to get a closer look at his eyes and even if that was all that he intended he still felt a little uncomfortable, he moved a little back and as soon as he moved Dagny got up from the sofa and made her way to her bed. Jelani didn’t fault her, she had a long day and was probably exhausted but she’d been acting as a sort of wall between him and Angelus and now that she moved he felt exposed.

“I didn’t mean that in a bad way. You know…I never thanked you for helping me out with those farmers.”

“Oh, you’re welcome.” Jelani said as he smiled as he looked at Dagny who was asleep on her bed.

Without warning or hesitation from the raider’s part Angelus jumped at the opportunity and grabbed Jelani by the chin, turned him towards him and kissed him. Jelani froze in place as what was happening was slowly registering in his head and as soon as he felt Angelus’ hand move up to his cheek he began to tremble. He shut his eyes out of nervousness as he felt Angelus’ thumb gently caressing his cheek and felt as he pulled him closer to him, as he did Jelani stiffened his body which only made Angelus move closer to him while he continued to kiss him. He could feel himself tremble a lot more to the point where his hands, that were pressed against the sides of his body, were starting to shake. He felt his heart beating faster and more intensely and his joints locking up making his body very stiff, he could hear his breathing intensify and it all accumulated in a single loud gasp as soon as he felt Angelus’ tongue slowly rub against his.

“You okay?” Angelus asked as he backed up a little and looked at Jelani who partially opened his eyes to see what he was doing.

No, he wasn’t okay. He was everything but okay, he really did not want to be doing what he was currently doing or better said what he thought he was being forced to do but he was afraid to tell him to stop. Jelani lowered his gaze out of fear and nodded as he said in a low whisper, “You just caught me off guard.”

“You sure?”

Instead of asking him to stop or arguing against it Jelani leaned forward and returned the kiss. He told himself that if he was the one to continue he’d be the one choosing to go through with it and it wouldn’t be the same as the night of the assault because in his head it made more sense to willingly go through with it even if he didn’t want to. It was irrational and illogical but somehow it made sense to him.

They kissed for a while and even though Jelani was starting to relax a little he was still stiff, nervous and forcing himself not to cry. Angelus completely misread Jelani’s reactions to being nervous due to lack of experience and he wasn’t wrong about that but his reaction was also due to something else he couldn’t possibly imagine. As they continued to kiss Angelus carefully pulled Jelani closer to him and then slowly and gently pushed him down so that he was laying on his back on the sofa and he was hovering over him. He placed one hand on his neck gently caressing him and used the other to slightly lift up Jelani’s shirt. He fumbled a little but eventually he found his belt and undid it, he then moved his other hand to undo his pants all the while still kissing him though much more intensely than before.

Jelani was starting to notice what was happening and he let out a barely audible whimper as he kissed him back using more tongue than he was before. He was starting to get nervous again but he was still too afraid to speak up so he countered it by trying to convince himself that this time he wanted this to happen. As soon as he felt Angelus pull his pants down his entire body went stiff and his eyes went wide, feelings and memories, sounds and sensations from that night flooded his mind all the while he was trying his hardest to contain his emotions though they were teetering on the border. As Angelus pulled on his pants he kissed him along the jaw, his neck and went further down, Jelani remained frozen in place until he felt his breath between his legs and his fear intensified. Angelus gently grabbed him with one hand and dragged his tongue along the shaft which caused Jelani to sit up.

“No, wait! Wait! Angelus, wait!” Jelani cried out as he looked at Angelus who propelled himself up to look back at him.

“You okay?” He asked as he looked at him. He seemed breathless and wired like he was afraid instead of aroused.

“Wait…uh…just do whatever you want but not that. Please?” Jelani pleaded as he looked intently at him, hoping and practically praying to no one that Angelus would at least avoid that particular activity. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep himself intact if he did what he was about to do and the last thing he wanted was to have a meltdown in front of him since he didn’t know if he would stop if he asked him to. Being assaulted again was one thing but being forced to beg and be ignored would’ve sent him somewhere he wasn’t sure he’d ever come back from.

“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard a guy say no to that…are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yeah, I just–I’ve never…” Jelani lowered his gaze. Part of him felt like he was lying, that he could no longer make that claim, not after what was done to him.

“Never?” Angelus picked up on what Jelani was trying to say, his behavior aligned with what he had just said and he felt a bit awkward for moving as fast as he did. Angelus lifted Jelani’s face with his hand and as their eyes met he gave him a warm smile and said, “It’s okay if you’re not ready, sweet pea.”

He wasn't sure if he was or if he wasn't but the fact that Angelus backed off without Jelani really asking him to stop made him feel strange, it was hard to describe, he felt alleviated, nervous, confident and somewhat aroused all at once. He’d be lying if he said he wasn't interested in him but all the noise in his head took even the most innocent of thoughts and twisted them making them all about that night. Quite frankly he was tired of it. Despite the fact that he hadn’t planned on having any other company aside from Dagny that day he actually enjoyed having Angelus with him. He enjoyed the conversations they had before he took out that ex-Gunner turned Minuteman. He enjoyed the walk from the high school to the bunker and he certainly enjoyed having him around the bunker. Before he kissed him Jelani hadn't felt like he was in any danger and even after he kissed him he didn't really feel like he was in danger, it felt like his traumas were bleeding all over him yet again and ruined what would have otherwise been a pleasant experience, one that made him nervous, but pleasant nonetheless.

Jelani made up his mind and acted on his impulse before his head could catch up and ruin the moment again. With both hands he reached out, grabbed Angelus by the shirt and pulled him into a kiss, a bit clumsily at first as he was internally trembling yet again. He was still nervous so he was a bit stiff but he was far more enthusiastic now than he was before. Once he felt more comfortable he himself laid down on his back all the while still grabbing onto Angelus’ shirt which prompted the raider to lie on top of him. They continued to kiss as both pressed their bodies together; Jelani then wrapped both arms around Angelus’ neck.

“Are you sure you're okay with this? You really don't have to if you're not ready, sweet pea.” Angelus asked between kisses.

As a response Jelani finished pulling off his pants and pushed them off the sofa all while still keeping his arms wrapped around Angelus' neck and kissing him. Angelus placed a hand on Jelani’s thigh and used the other to remove his shirt but as soon as Jelani noticed he pulled down on the shirt.

“Don't.” He said between kisses.

“Okay.” Angelus replied as he let go of Jelani’s shirt. He lifted that same hand up to his mouth and inserted both his index and middle finger in his mouth. After a few seconds he began to kiss him again, deeper and a little more intensely this time. He moved his hand down and with the other spread Jelani's legs open a bit more. As he continued to kiss him he couldn't help but smile a little when he heard Jelani moan as he teased him with his fingers. He slowly circled his hole while occasionally pushing in the tip of one of his fingers but pulling the tip back out. The teasing only caused Jelani to moan louder in his mouth and when Angelus figured he had enough he carefully shoved his middle finger inside him. Angelus was slow and steady at first but he sped up when Jelani began to kiss him in an almost desperate manner. After a while Angelus pulled out and as he positioned himself better he kept both his middle finger, ring finger and index finger together and pushed all three inside Jelani who gasped which caused Angelus to go a little faster. He kept increasing speed and going deeper the more he became aroused due to Jelani's reactions.

Angelus kept going and eventually moved his head down and licked along Jelani's neck and given how much more and louder Jelani was moaning when he kissed along his neck he zeroed in on his neck while he went harder and deeper inside him. At some point Angelus moved his free hand and grabbed Jelani by the hip to pin him down to go faster and as deep as he could.

Jelani opened his eyes wide as he felt a hand on his hip and suddenly he was flooded by memories of that night. He began to hyperventilate as he felt like his entire right side was on fire, he began to tremble as he remembered details both small and big of that night. He swore he could hear their voices, their grunting, the noises they made when each had their turn with him. He could swear he could suddenly smell whiskey and he couldn't help but start crying. He wanted to scream but found he was breathless and all he could do was gasp as he kept being bombarded by those awful memories that seemed to still haunt him.

“Please…” He managed to whisper and when he noticed Angelus didn't stop he couldn't help but cry a little more.

“What, hon? Harder?” Angelus confused his pleading for him to go harder, so he did, not knowing that wasn't why Jelani said what he said.

“Stop! Please stop! Please!” Jelani managed to cry out almost hysterically.

Angelus immediately stopped and looked up to see Jelani crying with a look of sheer terror on his face. Confused but above all concerned he very carefully pulled out and said, “I didn't hurt you, did I? Are you okay, sweetheart?”

Jelani didn't answer. He remained frozen underneath Angelus while hyperventilating and looking directly at him. As soon as Angelus realized that something was wrong he backed away while keeping his eye on him and staying as still as possible, mostly as a reaction to his own confusion. He didn’t know if he had hurt him or did something that he wasn’t ready for though he was taken aback by his reaction. He looked him over and saw Jelani was frozen on the spot. He’d shuffled away from Angelus and was staring at him with his eyes wide open and was hyperventilating while staying as still as possible, he then noticed he was grasping the sofa hard.

“Sweet pea? Are you okay?”

After a few minutes of watching Jelani remain frozen in place Angelus got up and went to the kitchen to grab a bottle of clean water. He washed his hands in the sink and rushed back with the water and sat down as he reached his hand out and gently placed it on Jelani’s cheek. As soon as Jelani felt his hand he let out a loud yelp and backed away from his hand, Angelus frowned but he quickly realized that it was most likely a bad idea to touch him at the moment. His concern for him grew due to his reaction.

“It’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you.” Angelus whispered as he looked at him and brought the bottle of water closer to him. He wasn’t entirely sure if water would help him, it was a knee jerk reaction. He’d seen so many people get water to people that were hurt or scared so many times he unconsciously incorporated it into his response to injury or fear. “Relax, sweet pea, it’s okay. It’s okay, you’re okay. Nothing bad’s gonna happen. Have some water, it’ll help.”

Angelus grew worried when Jelani didn’t react to anything he was doing or saying and he wondered what he’d said or done to cause this. He felt he may have pushed him too far, maybe he wasn’t as ready as he thought he was even though he insisted and the thought of being responsible for Jelani's current state made him sick to his stomach with guilt but he wanted to focus on making him feel better.

“Please, baby, talk to me. What’s going on?” Angelus insisted, his tone was growing desperate enough for him to have noticed himself. “I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong.”

Jelani made a sound as if he was trying to form a word though it got caught in his throat, he began to gasp as if somehow struggling to calm himself, breathe and talk at the same time all while scared out of his mind. Angelus stopped for a moment to look over Jelani and realized that he was panicking, he’d seen that before, it was a long time ago but he remembered seeing it. The water could help but he looked around for a blanket or a big jacket or a coat, anything that he could wrap him with. The bunker was spacious but it wasn’t large either, he could see the kitchen, the closet that he saw was full of weapons, ammo and other items that weren’t related to what he was looking for. He knew where the bathroom was so he walked over to it after he told Jelani that he was going to find a blanket. He wanted to communicate with him as clearly as possible to prevent further panicking and to establish some form of understanding so that he could focus on something instead of panicking. He went to the bathroom but didn’t find what he was looking for. Once he was back in the hall he noticed a door on the opposite wall and figured he could check it out. He opened the door and walked in, the room was dark so he felt around the wall for the switch and as soon as he found it he flipped it.

It was the bedroom and just like the rest of the bunker everything was clean, perfectly aligned and perfectly set up. The bed was made up so well that he couldn’t find a single wrinkle. At the sight of it Angelus scoffed and laughed.

“Army brat…” He chuckled as he went over to the bed and grabbed the blanket. It was almost a shame to ruin the bed but there were more pressing matters at hand than to lament a perfectly made up bed. He rolled up the blanket and tucked it under his arm to free up his hands. He figured he’d bring over some pillows as well so he could get him as comfortable as possible. There were several pillows so he grabbed as many as he could carry. When he lifted one of them he dropped everything he was carrying when he was startled by the sight of blood underneath one of the pillows and a switchblade neatly tucked underneath it. The blood on the knife and the pillow as well as on the bed was dry though it didn’t look like it had been there for too long as it still had that bright red hue to it. He looked at the pillow and was worried as it was a lot of blood, he couldn’t possibly imagine what could’ve happened nor did he want to sit there and ponder about it as he needed to get the blanket and pillows back to Jelani though he made a mental note about it to ask him later. He put the bloody pillow back exactly how he found it and put two of them back alongside it almost as if trying to feign that he hadn’t looked through the bed long enough to have found the blood and the knife to spare Jelani knowing he found it.

Angelus rushed back to the sofa and found Jelani hadn’t moved at all, he was upset but he focused on the task at hand.

“Okay, sweetheart. Let’s just try to get you warm and comfy.” Angelus wrapped the blanket around Jelani, after that he placed a pillow between his head and the backrest of the sofa and tucked another behind his back.

“Can you hear me?”

Jelani didn’t answer but he looked directly at Angelus and even though it wasn’t an answer Angelus smiled as at least he wasn’t looking through him which meant he was responsive.

“Do you wanna stay here?”

This time Jelani nodded and it seemed like he stopped crying though he was still breathing heavily and Angelus wanted to focus on that. “Okay, sweet pea. Do you want some water?” Jelani nodded again and Angelus opened the bottle and handed it to him and watched as he took little sips from it and smiled as he watched him.

After a few minutes Jelani set the bottle down and sighed as he looked down to look at it, his breathing was almost back to normal. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

“Nei, you didn’t. I wanted to but…” Jelani began to cry again.

Angelus got up and carefully pushed him forward so that he could sit behind him and hug him from behind. To his surprise Jelani grabbed on to him and just cried. Angelus rested his head on his and kept reassuring him that he was safe and that it was all right all while still wondering what happened to him to have made him have a panic attack but more importantly what could have triggered it so that he could avoid it in the future. He replayed what they did in his head and nothing stuck out to him. After some time passed Angelus heard a very faint and subtle hum coming from Jelani and as he looked down he noticed he’d fallen asleep in his arms and a very big and admittedly goofy smile formed on his face as he whispered to himself, “Oh, no…he’s adorable.”

It was around noon that Jelani was woken up by Dagny when she climbed up on the sofa and yipped at him to get his attention and when that didn’t work she began to lick his face until she woke him up. Seeing her snout so close to his face startled him a little but as soon as he sat up and got his bearings he got up and looked through his backpack for a watch he always carried and saw the time. He slept for almost twelve hours. He stood back up and realized that he’d actually slept through the entire night and as far back as he can try to remember he didn’t wake up from a nightmare or a night terror, he hadn’t drunk any alcohol or taken any chems. He was almost worried, ever since the assault he’d have a nightmare every time he fell asleep for more than three hours but last night he slept fine, he even felt rested. For the first time in months he felt like he had a good night’s sleep.

“Malakhov?” Jelani called out to Angelus but he got no response.

Jelani looked around and didn’t see him so he figured he must have been in the bathroom so he walked over and knocked on the door but there was no answer. He knocked again and again was met with silence. He opened the door only to find the bathroom was empty, after he closed the door he went into his bedroom and saw it was empty as well. He walked back to the sofa and stood in the middle of the bunker and realized he was all alone and for the first time in months it left a sinking feeling within him. When he came to terms that he was alone he turned to the kitchen to get Dagny something to eat as he figured she must have been starving he noticed some items on the kitchen table and frowned. He was one hundred percent sure he’d cleaned up everything in the kitchen after he and Angelus ate dinner the night before so he went over to it to take care of it but as he got close he noticed what it was.

On the table was a plate of food, cold by now, a fork next to it, a bottle of clean water and a holotape recorder with a holotape labeled in faded black ink “Launch Codes” sitting on it. Jelani recognized both items as both were in the bunker when he first moved in. He sighed deeply and put the holotape into the recorder and hit play and after a few seconds of static Angelus’ voice came on.

“Hi! I’m sorry I left without saying anything but I didn’t wanna wake you up. Hope you don’t mind but I took another shower and made us some breakfast. Now, I ain’t the best cook but I hope it’s okay. Oh! And I fed Dagny this morning so you don’t have to worry about feedin’ her whenever you wake up. Let’s see…um…I’m gonna be out of Boston for about a week and when I get back we can take that li’l trip to Salem and see some weird shit. I promise, it’s worth it. And…listen…I don’t know what happened to you at some point in your life but I am so sorry that I triggered that panic attack. I don’t know how it happened but I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that to you. You know, I may talk a lot but I’m pretty good at listening too so if you need to talk to someone I’m all ears. Anyway, I had a good time with ya and yeah, I’ll see you in a week, sweet pea.”

Jelani shuddered as he tried his hardest to keep himself from crying but by the end of the recording he was sobbing as he wrapped his arms around himself. There were so many thoughts racing across his mind at the moment and he felt emotionally overwhelmed and ashamed of his panic attack the night before. Angelus actually felt good and so did he and for once he managed to keep his fears in check but it seemed like being grabbed a certain way and in certain areas was too much for him. For reasons unknown even to him he wanted to tell him that his panic was sparked by him grabbing his hip but the more he thought about it the stupider it sounded and he felt embarrassed by it. He couldn’t understand why but he missed him already and part of him felt like if he knew where Angelus was headed he would’ve run after him just to be near him and it both confused and scared him. He was never one to be dependent on another person but he wanted to be with him at that very moment and the fact that he wasn’t there and would have to wait a week to see him again felt rancid. He rewinded the holotape as he laid his upper body on the table and played it again just to hear his voice.

[dndeceit]

It was already a hard fight not to think about writing a Fallout AU for the sides before the show came out. Now I feel like I'm at the losing end of a long battle...

(I have so many WIPs for SaSi and for Fallout, already. I can't be doing this... But then the devil on my shoulder starts whispering to me about FEV!Mutant Janus keeping his nature under wraps well enough to become warlord of a lawless little town called Darkside, and about Roman and Remus as a synth and the man he was supposed to replace (though which one is which?) running away together to live as brothers, and Virgil as a world-weary scavver guiding two upstanding Vaulties on their journey and all of them meeting up and I just... I'm weak.)

[hellhound-wrangler]

I have made the immensely foolish decision to dip my toes into the “writing fanfic” waters and I’m now regretting all my life choices. I have weird disjointed chunks of a story, some more edited than others. Also I apparently have a masochistic streak, because I’m writing fic for the game that aggravates me on almost every level, instead of one that isn’t actively maddening.

Anyhow, if you, too, have an inexplicable fondness for the garbage fire that is Fallout 3, I bring you a small offering of irradiated trash.

A week later, Charon shoved open the door of the Ninth Circle, a moaning drunk with broken hands draped over his shoulder (“Now take out the trash Charon, there’s a good boy” Azhrukhal had said before turning to the fool’s terrified friend to settle the briefly-disputed bar tab), and a slouching smoothskin leaving Carol’s Place took three long strides and caught the door, holding it open for him without comment. He spared a brief hard stare for the human, who looked back blandly. Unarmored, no visible weapons save a 10mm on their hip, torchlight glinting off their battered glasses, hair and skin and clothing all in unremarkable shades of gray and tan, just another scavver looking for oblivion in the shittiest bar in the end of the world. He wished he could warn the wastelander off before they poured more caps into Azhrukal’s safe and wound up robbed or dead or beaten or sold or whatever sick whim the old rat had in store, but standing orders strangled any warning he could offer in his throat (“Stop scaring off the customers, Charon”). 

When he came back into the bar, he briefly thought that the smoothskin had had an attack of good sense and left, until he realized that the customer deep in conversation with Azhrukhal at the bar was not the injured ghoul’s partner after all. The colorless wasteland clothing was the same, but the line of the shoulders was too relaxed, the body on the barstool too long and slouched and balanced to be the stocky frantic drunk Charon had last seen sitting there, the voice too low and calm to be a strung-out fool trying to spare themself a beating.

He didn’t want to hear whatever trap Azhrukhal was weaving for another stupid tourist, and he concentrates instead on the music of the radio, the morbid calculation of how long it would take until the ceiling fell in, the low burn of a two-day thirst in his throat. Sinking into his misery, he let the sounds of the Ninth Circle wash over him.

��-keeps hackin’ and whackin’ and smackin’-”

“-unfailing, unflinching, until the day - “

“-drinks are foul-”

“-he finally met his fate/ But when they came to pay-”

“-a liability, the dog-catchers are coming-”

“-yesterday...I found one of Patchwork’s fingers-”

“-civilization is a thing for me to see -”

“ - must be kidding-”

“-bottle imp, Azhrukhal, will you be carried-”

“-how they coax him I’ll stay right here - “

“-need just a little bit of jet, I’ve got the shakes-”

“-never see him after tonight-”

“-what I do all year round-”

The sound of caps pouring onto sticky wood seizes the attention of every patron in the bar, and the refocusing of their bodies, rather than the sound itself, pulls Charon back to the present. The smoothskin drops an empty bag like garbage, a long messy pile of caps lying on the bar between them and Azhrukhal. The bartender draws in a single rattling breath and hastily shoves a filthy envelope across the bar to the human, eyes already on the treasure before him.

“Fine. Take your dog and get out.”

The human nods once, slipping their glasses from their face and tucking them into the neckline of their shirt. They stand smoothly, slouch vanishing as they rise. They open the envelope as they walk over to Charon, fishing something out. Their eyes are an eerily pale brown, catching the torchlight like an animal’s as they open their mouth to speak. Abruptly he recognizes them, the height (tall for a wastelander, though not compared to him) and the gleaming eyes - it’s the merc with the mottled armor. Ambush predator, he thinks again.

”Talk to Azhrukhal” Charon snarls, cutting them off. Whatever idiot deal they had entered with the bartender, he wanted as little to do with as possible.

“You are no longer under contract to Azhrukhal.” The smoothskin slides his folded contract from the envelope and extends it for him to see, looking absurdly as though they were offering it to Charon. One corner of their mouth curled up briefly, a snarl or a smile, there and gone again in an instant. “I promised him that tonight was the last time he’d see you.”

“You purchased my contract from Azhrukhal? So, I am no longer in his service. That is good to know. Please, excuse me.”

Dazed, wondering if he’s dreaming, Charon brushes past the smoothskin, closes the distance between him and his former employer, as Azhrukhal sweeps cap after cap into a box he pulled from beneath the bar. The bartender’s head jerks up, glowering, his mouth opening to spit some final insult but Charon’s shotgun is already in his hands. He had meant to confirm his change of employment, hear the old ghoul seal his fate by acknowledging that Charon was no longer bound to him, but suddenly the thought of hearing the bartender’s rotten voice even one time more is unendurable. Before Azhrukhal can speak, the spray of buckshot silences him forever. Charon watches the headless body fall and fires again, blowing apart the chest (head and heart, big boy, a woman’s memory whispers, if you want them to stay down). He considers shooting the corpse again, reducing it to scraps of meat and bone and buckshot until he runs out of shells, but decides that this is sufficient and slips the shotgun back into its sheath.

Over the startled screams that marked the patrons’ reaction to Azhrukhal’s death, his new employer’s voice comes clear and steady. “Do you need anything out of here before we leave?”

Charon snorts, rolls his shoulders to feel the press of the shotgun in its holster across his back, shakes his head. “No.”

[deacons-wig]

hi i’m starving for deacon content nowadays and i’m just wondering if u have like any headcanons for him? like what sort of things he likes or dislikes, things he’s done, headcanons about him being buddies with the sosu, anything thank u ily sm

Hello dear, allow me to present a random assortment of Deacon headcanons:

Personal:

The nerd taught himself French from scavenged schoolbooks, just so he could read Proust in the one legible copy he found.

Besides practical reasons, Deacon loves to sew. Sewing is an honest and useful way to keep his nervous hands busy. If the wasteland has yarn, I imagine he is a competent knitter and makes goofy hats and fun socks for Sole, Companions, and his Railroad pals.

Since Deacon has a hard time with honest words, he is big on giving gifts and doing things that make Sole’s life easier. He gives them clothes and food, teaches them about the wasteland’s quirks and how to cook.

Speaking of food, he doesn’t like sugar or very sweet things, but he finds pre-war snacks and stashes them for Sole, who has a hard time   going from a high sugar/processed diet to what he calls “Wasteland Organic.”

He goes out of his way to find fun things for Sole to do so they can get some R&R. Think things like a bowling alley, a library, silly robot museum tours, maybe even dancing together at Magnolia’s shows.

Feel like crying? Barbara is not actually dead. The Railroad got her out of the Commonwealth! Deacon tells a lie that breaks his heart in order to protect her. He will take that secret to his grave, no matter how close he and Sole get. Anyone who may have known is now dead, a casualty of the Institute, so not even Dez knows.

Deacon is demisexual! Pining for Sole hits him especially hard because he hasn’t experienced sexual attraction in a long time.

Deacon is nonbinary. He uses he/him pronouns but doesn’t like when people refer to him as a man, and he confesses to Sole that he hates when people refer to him gendered words like man/dude/guy.

Deacon 110% has the “Child at Heart” perk. Shaun thinks he’s the coolest and Deacon helps Sole tutor him in reading and writing! If romanced, Deacon absolutely embraces being a parent. He teaches Nat how to recognize sketchy Institute activity and she shakes him down for caps in exchange for gossip. Piper would kill him if she found out. He is also endlessly amused by Bunker Hill kid who likes to grift newcomers.

Work-related:

He and Tommy Whispers were as close to friends as one could have in the Railroad. It was only after the Institute was destroyed that Deacon realizes how much he misses Tommy and opens to Sole about being grateful for having another friend.

Deacon’s favorite town in the Commonwealth is Bunker Hill. Traders are a great source of gossip, it’s a good place to make caps, and he has a trusted Tourist in Old Man Stockton. You couldn’t pay him to go up in the monument though. At least not until Sole drags him up there…

Deacon is very attentive to the state of his nails, skin, and teeth as part of his disguises. He hates having dirty nails though, so he suffers when trying to pass as a farmer/drifter/scavver.

In the game I know he wears glasses 24/7, but I think he only wears them in public and at HQ. In private with Sole or by himself he takes them off, and won’t wear them at night for practical reasons, like uh... needing to see??

Still, Deacon’s eyesight is not great. After the Institute, Sole convinces him to get glasses. The wasteland does have advanced medicine, so there’s no reason someone hasn’t figured out how to make prescription glasses??

Wearing glasses is a great transition from sunglasses because he feels naked in public without something on his face.

Deacon has a horrible relationship to sleep, but traveling with Sole helps him regulate a little. More on that here!

[ir0n-angel]

Five Favorites

I was tagged by @crackinglamb to share five favorite bits of writing. Thank you, dear.🤍

Tagging @st0nergh0ul @madangel19 @the-desert-dancer and anyone else who wants to play.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to write, so these are oldies. Hopefully Lamb won’t mind that I copied her format. Mine also got really long, so under the cut it goes.

From War Cry (Fallout 4):

Nora tightened the belt around her waist, making sure that each device was secure. She systematically flipped each ones' switches on and off again, satisfied when each light blinked then cut out.

"It really doesn't seem like a good idea to arm those things when they're wrapped around you like that." The power armor's speaker distorted Deacon's voice to the point of being unrecognizable.

Nora smiled at him, wrapping a long strip of cloth around and over her middle like she'd seen some of the scavver women wear. Wasteland deprivation, for once, had it's perks. The devices were virtually unnoticeable. "Careful, Dee. You almost sounded like you cared for a moment there."

"Absolutely not."

It was probably the worst lie she'd ever heard from him.

--- Trying my hand at telling a story with flashbacks for the first time, this one is a very strong contender for being my favorite to have ever written. Unfortunately, it’s my least popular Completed fic. ---

From Blue (Fallout 4):

On his third circuit of the perimeter, he was startled by the sounds of splashing down by the southerly side of the river. He crouched low and made his way to the crumbled stone wall, laser musket at the ready.

The splashing continued, then "GodDAMNit!", followed by groan of metal and a ba-whoosh of something large hitting the water.

The lady sure had a mouth on her, he thought to himself as he lowered his weapon and stood.

It would have been comical to see Nora sprawled on her ass in the swallows if the half moon's light didn't throw her look of misery into such sharp relief. It worried him more that he could hear the faint clicking of her Pip-Boy's Geiger counter, yet she made no move to stand back up.

--- Before I lost my heart to a certain ghoul, Preston Garvey was (and, really, still is) my sweetheart. I had a lot of plans for him. Sadly, this is the only one that made it to post.  ---

From Things We Can’t Say (Fallout 4):

"Hey, Yo Go... Yao Gooey... Yogurt! Sign says don't feed the bears!" he shouted. A second hard hit nearly knocked him off his feet again, causing him to slip and fall with his back against the door.

Regaining her wits, Nora jumped up and threw herself against the door as a third hit nearly had it open, knocking Deacon's glasses askew. She scanned around frantically for anything to fight with when she noticed the bar latches on either side of the door. She managed to slide both into place as the fourth hit rattled the hinges.

Five. The door held, not giving an inch. Six, but less forceful this time. Pause. A growl. Seven, eight... Weaker still.

"I think it's getting tired," Deacon huffed. "Or dying. That'd be nice. Wouldn't get our hopes up. Buckshot does fuck all against You-goo hide."

--- I had way too much fun with parts of this one, even though I eventually had to hand it over to my bestie to help me finish it after it stalled for two years. Deacon as a character is... well. Yet I’ve been given very high compliments that I keep him in character, so that’s nice. ---

From Have A Drink On Me (Fallout 4):

The woman was too stealthy, he thought as without warning her hand was on his arm. "Did I do something wrong?" she whispered when he refused to turn to look at her.

Correction: This was a terrible idea.

"No, but I might," he confessed, running a hand over his tired face. "I should leave."

When he opened his eyes again, he found that she had slid between him and the door. "Do you really want to?"

It'd been well over two hundred years since he'd seen eyes so blue, or so... full of lust? Surely not.

"No."

"I don't want you to, either." She slid her hands up to the buckle of his leather jacket, loosening it and pulling the strap free before moving up to the zipper.

The armor slipped from his grip and clattered to the floor as she pushed the jacket off his shoulders. "Nora, please..." he rasped. "I'm a ghoul, but I'm also just a man. You need to stop."

The jacket joined his armor. "Do you want me to stop?" she asked, her hands going still at the hem of his undershirt as she looked up to meet his gaze. Her eyes were sharp and clear. One beer wouldn't have been enough to impair her judgment like this, and she showed no signs of chem use.

"No." He leaned forward, crowding her against the door, and rested his forearms against the wood at opposite sides of her head, caging her in. A reminder of his size and a show of his strength to scare her off. "But I don't want to stop, either. Nora, look at me. You can't want this."

Her brows knitted and she tilted her chin up defiantly. "Edward Deegan, you and I are both from the old world. I know how this works just as well as you do. I would not have invited you up to my room if I didn't want this."

--- YEARNING. The start of my maddening spiral into Rare Pair Hell that resulted in my epic series Beer and Benefits. Just... *dreamy sighs* ---

From an Untitled WIP (Dragon Age: Inquisition):

It started with a simple, unconscious gesture so subtle that if he had blinked, he would have missed it.

The moment Cassandra had mentioned he was an apostate, the prisoner had angled slightly to put herself between him and the Seeker.

--- Take a wild guess. ---

[deepwoundsandfadedscars]

ohh okay what about Electrocution with (ugh i cant choose) Amos or Holden and/or Caught in an Explosion with Cal? 👀

Helllooo friend, thank you so much for your patience!! It’s only been like... two and a half months since you submitted this HAH I’m sorry lmao but hey, shit has really hit the fan in the past two and a half months, ya know?

(Here’s the link to the Electrocution with Amos and Holden story if anyone is looking for that one!)

So here we go! Caught in an Explosion with Cal! Which wound up approximately 2,000 words longer than I intended, so it’s going under a read more!!! The link to this story on Ao3 is at the very bottom)

Cal hit the ground running as soon as the ramp of the Mantis lowers, Merrin fast on his heels. 

“The scavver ships are taking off,” Cere’s voice came over the communicator, “There’s movement in the hanger to your left, looks like villagers. We gotta take off again before these guys blow a hole in us, we’ll swing around to get you after we take out some of these ships.”

One of the scavenger ships screamed overhead as the Mantis took off, blaster bolts gouging into the cement and sending shards of rock flying into the air. Cal ducked his head and leaned forward, sprinting for the shelter of the hanger, BD-1 beeping excitedly from his shoulder.

Once inside the door, they ducked behind some crates as the ship took another pass, skimming along to fire in through the hanger door before buzzing past. It was gone for now, but they could be back in moments for another pass, so they had to act fast.

Cal peeked around the edge of the crate to investigate the group of people in the middle of the hanger towards the back wall. There were about a dozen of them, various ages and species, all haggard and exhausted looking, their clothing torn and smeared in dirt and oil. They were all gagged and hands tied, unable to free themselves but some were trying to loosen the knots on the person next to them, unable to see as they fumbled with the ropes and cables with their hands tied behind their backs.

“Cal, Scavvers on the ground coming your way!” Cere said.

“Go help the hostages,” Cal said to Merrin, “I’ll get the Scavs.” 

Merrin nodded and silently slipped into the shadows, disappearing in a green mist.

Four Scavvers came blindly charging into the hanger, yelling wildly until the lead was silenced in a flurry of orange lightsaber. The body hadn’t even hit the floor before Cal dispatched the next two in the same spin, the blade slicing them both cleanly in half. He finished the move with a flourish, deactivating the secondary blade and gripping the hilt with both hands while leaping into the air to take out the last Scav in a downward slash.

Before he made contact with the Scavs helmet, his lightsaber was intercepted by the blade of a vibrosword. The impact vibrated up his arms and he staggered backwards as the Scavver pushed back hard against him. As Cal stumbled, the Scavver, a large human that towered head and shoulders over the young Jedi, swung the vibrosword at Cals head. He ducked under the attack, rolling on his shoulder to evade and get into a flanking position away from the vibrosword. As he popped to his feet again he lunged forward, driving his blade into the Scavvers torso. 

The big man roared in agony, his limbs flailing at anything he could reach. Unfortunately for Cal, his head got in the way of a fist and he took a glancing blow across his temple. He fell to one knee as pain exploded in his head, his vision tilting to the side for the moment. He closed his eyes and breathed heavily, shaking his head as though that would stop his head from feeling like it would roll right off his shoulders. He could hear BD-1 trilling in his ear, but he couldn’t even focus on what the little droid was trying to say.

“Cal!” Merrin’s voice broke through and he realized she had called him several times already. She sounded panicked so Cal forced himself to his feet, opening his eyes finally as he turned towards her voice. It took a moment to focus on her. She stood over a crate, holding the lid in one hand and staring down at its contents. One of the hostages had her gag hanging around her neck, likely removed by Merrin, and she kept yelling the same thing over and over. Bomb. 

“Merrin, get back!” He yelled, reaching out with the Force to grab the crate, yanking it away from her and closer to himself. From where it settled a few feet away he could see the lit up display on the face, where once there had been about ten bars were now only two and as he watched, the second line blipped out and left only one. 

Calling on the Force again, he picked up the crate and with a scream of effort heaved it towards the hanger door. Just as the final line extinguished, he spun on his heel to run in the opposite direction, towards Merrin. Before he could take two steps, the bomb exploded in mid-air, the blast throwing Cal off his feet and then everything went black.

~~~

“Cal!” Merrin screamed as the Jedi was hurled through the air, limp as a rag doll when he hit the ground, shrapnel from the crate and even the ceiling of the hanger raining down around him. 

She was already scrambling to his side before the dust could settle. He lay on his front, his head cradled in the crook of his elbow. The back of his leather vest was shredded, blood already seeping from too many holes to count and she could see several pieces of shrapnel that were still embedded in his skin.

“Cal!” Cere’s voice crackled over the communicator, “Whatever that explosion was, it scared off the Scavvers. Are you guys ok?”

Merrin tapped the button on her own device. “Cere, land immediately. Cal is injured.”

She could hear Greez yelling loudly in the background, asking if he was going to be alright, but she ignored him as the human hostage that had warned her of the bomb dropped to her knees beside the Nightsister, her hands still tied behind her back. 

“I’m sorry,” the hostage whispered, “Please just untie me, that is all I ask. Let me free the rest.”

Merrin hurriedly pulled the ropes off before returning her attention to Cal, unsure of what to do to help until the Mantis returned. “Where will you go?” She asked the woman, not taking her eyes off Cal’s still form.

“If the Scavvers are gone and haven’t found it, we have a ship hidden in the forest. And if they found that, another of ours was to return tomorrow.” She placed her hand on Cal’s leg, looking over the damage. “I’m sorry you got caught in this. But I thank you for saving us.”

“He is unconscious, he cannot hear you.”

“It was meant for both of you,” the woman said. Someone from the group called out to her and she dipped her head in Merrin’s direction before rejoining the others and starting to remove their bindings.

Outside, engines roared as the Mantis settled on the cement, as close to the hanger as Greez could manage, the ramp almost extending all the way to the large door. Cere was at Cals side opposite from Merrin a moment later, her hands immediately reaching for Cal’s throat to feel for a pulse and any bones out of place. She nodded to herself, finding everything to be as it should before leaning over to look at his back. 

“Cal, can you hear me?” 

“We need to get him to the ship,” Merrin said when there was no response from Cal.

“Yes, give me a hand.”

Cere lifted Cal’s arm, draping it over her neck as she got her hands under his chest to lift him from the ground while trying to avoid touching his back as much as possible. He groaned as his head lifted from where it had been cradled against his arm, a large red pool revealed that was already staining his sleeve. She put her hand on his chin, tilting his face towards her to inspect the wound on his temple and the blood that trickled out of it. 

“Cal?” She gently tapped her fingers on his cheek. His eyes flickered weakly behind closed eyelids, but he did not rouse.

 Merrin took his other arm, draping it over her own neck so he was supported between them. Cere thanked the Force that the young Jedi wasn’t significantly larger than his female companions and if they didn’t need to be so mindful of his wounds she doubted either of them would need assistance carrying him on their own. 

“Let’s move,” she grunted as she looped her arm around his torso, low on his back where there were fewer visible pieces of shrapnel. “Greez! We’re going to need the table clear and get the med bag out!”

“On it!” 

With Cal limp between them it took a few moments to pick their way through the debris littering the ground, but finally they made it through the door of the ship just as a pile of plasteel plates that had been on the kitchen table crashed to the couch below as Greez hastily cleared off the table. The last few cups landed in the terrarium as Cere and Merrin dragged Cal up the steps and deposited him on the table, laying him on his stomach. 

“Greez, where’s that medkit?” Cere called over her shoulder as she started removing layers, revealing pale, blood streaked skin. BD-1 bounced onto the table next to Cal’s head, beeping worriedly. He looked up at Cere and extended a stim canister to her with an inquisitive trill. “Not yet, BD-1. I need to get the shrapnel out first.”

BD-1 snapped his stim compartment shut again and hunkered down to watch Cere work until two ticks later when he had to move again as Greez came barging into the kitchen with the med kit, slamming it down on the table where BD-1 had just sat. 

~~~

At the noise and vibration through the table, Cal jerked awake. He tried to push himself up and his yell of surprise turned to a groan of pain as he collapsed again, his arms shaking.

“Cal! Hey kid, stay still,” Greez’s hand was on his arm and he could feel other hands on his back pushing him down onto the cold surface. He turned his head to see who was holding him down and finally relaxed when he recognized Merrin and Cere standing over him, the familiar scene of the Mantis’ kitchen behind them.

“What happened?” He asked, closing his eyes and letting his head flop onto the table again. 

“Bomb hidden in a crate, you didn’t get out of the way fast enough.” Merrin said. Cal opened his eyes when he felt a hand on his face and found his own wadded up poncho being offered as a pillow, which he gratefully accepted, allowing Merrin to help him lift his head off the table and shoving it under. He tried to move his arm to hug the makeshift pillow, but stopped when the movement sent pain shooting up and down his back.

“Stop moving,” Cere said. She was digging through the medkit, laying out bacta bandages and other ointments until she produced a pair of small tweezers. “I’m sorry Cal, but this is going to hurt.”

“Just get it out-” his words turned into a scream as Cere started to dig into one of the multiple wounds on his back, fishing for the wooden shards deep in his skin. He writhed on the table, trying to get away from the pain. Merrin placed her hand on the back of his neck, gently encouraging him to stay in one place. He tried to focus on the cool touch of her skin, anything to distract himself from the agony of his back. He could feel each piece being plucked from his skin, a strangled cry tearing through his throat with each shard.

Finally the pain became too much and he let himself be dragged into the darkness again.

~~~

Everyone in the kitchen sighed in relief as the young Jedi finally went limp again, surrendering to the relatively painless realm of unconsciousness. 

“Hurry, before he wakes again,” Merrin said.

“Only a couple left,” Cere nodded. “Use that cloth and start cleaning the wounds for me, we need to get his back covered as soon as possible.”

Merrin picked the cloth up and started gently wiping away the blood, cringing a bit every time the movement caused one of the many wounds to seep more red onto his pale skin. 

Soon Cere was also helping her clean him up and then draping strips of bacta bandages across his back. 

“Ok BD-1, your turn.” Cere said, opening her hand towards the little droid crouched on the back of the couch. He popped up and shot a stim canister into the air, where Cere snatched it as it started to fall towards the table, sinking it into Cal’s arm in one smooth motion. 

Cal sighed in relief as the stimulant rushed through him and he slowly blinked his eyes open again.

He lifted his head and flexed his jaw, the muscles aching from having it pressed to the impromptu pillow and cleared his throat. “Are we done yet?”

“Yes, we’re done.” Cere placed her hand on his head, gently rubbing circles in his hair with her thumb. “Try to go back to sleep, we’ll let the bacta do it’s work for a while and then get you to bed.”

“Oh but why, this table is so comfy,” Cal said, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he closed his eyes and repositioned himself on the poncho-pillow, trying to ignore the now dull pain as his back muscles stretched. He heard Merrin snort in laughter and squinted one eye open at her where she leaned against the kitchen counter. “You all should try it, it’s great.”

“Or we’ll just keep using it as an eating surface, thanks.” Cere gently flicked him on the ear before turning to start putting things back into the medkit. “Or we will once we sterilize it about twenty times.”

“Sounds like a you problem, I didn’t put myself here,” Cal yawned and closed his eyes again.

“No one is sleeping on the table after today,” Cere raised her voice to talk over him, a laugh floating around the edge of her voice, “I’m glad you’re feeling well enough to joke, but go to sleep, Cal.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, stifling another yawn. Seconds later he was out, lulled to sleep by the hum of the engines and quiet conversation between his little family that he had found.

Read on Ao3!

[fallout4holmes]

Journal 44

A return to business as usual was interrupted by Danse contacting me. I presumed at first he would have opinions regarding the recent attack on Jamaica Plain - Gunners, though they retreated and haven't been seen in the area since - but my friend surprised me. He wanted to remind me of my promise to Billy Peabody that he would meet other children.

Jamaica Plain would have been an ideal location, but with the recent attack, Danse suggested The Castle as an alternative. Ms. Shaw might not care for children running around her fort, but it would be a goodwill symbol and the children would be impressed. Most importantly, it's safe.

I agreed, and sent word to the Peabodys, MacCready, and every other family I've met who have a child. The invitation was extended to all the children of Diamond City as well, though I didn't expect much of a response. The Castle may be safe, but the journey through Boston is not, and so Valentine and I found ourselves escorting only our son and Nat Wright. Piper joined us, and Dogmeat of course.

MacCready and Duncan were there, and late in the day came Matt Peabody and Billy. Roger Warwick and his son Wally also made the trip north, which I was particularly glad to see since they live the closest to the Peabodys. Mr. Warwick was a bit… startled, to meet my partner. There was a clear moment of fear at seeing a second generation synth for the first time in a year, and he didn't bother to hide his confusion when Valentine spoke to him.

“Don't worry, friend, the Institute and I weren't on speaking terms even before they were blown up. I'm a prototype. I got out.”

Warwick processed this and shook Valentine's hand. “Then I'm pleased to meet you. Ah. Has Holmes told you -”

“About you?” Valentine grinned, “Secret's safe with me, don't worry. Did you meet Matt? You two are practically neighbors, or would be if there wasn't a factory full of super mutants in the way.”

That was something of an exaggeration, but Mr. Warwick and Mr. Peabody immediately set to discussing trade while I introduced MacCready to Ms. Shaw. He's made it perfectly clear that he's not a Minuteman, yet, he's only working for us. Shaw found that simultaneously annoying and amusing, but welcomed the help. Piper started interviewing the Minutemen stationed at the Castle about the success of the Minutemen and the history of the location. They humored her, though she did manage to strike up an in-depth conversation with one who once lived in Diamond City as a very young girl.

The children, for their part, hit it off instantly. Shaun showed no hesitation beyond a quick, “wow!” when introduced to Billy. Given that one of his fathers is mechanical, it's no surprise that physical appearance means little to him. Nat and Duncan followed their friend's lead, and Wally, not wanting to be left out, joined in the fun. They started with tag outside the door under the watchful eye of Dogmeat. The Minutemen on guard were there as well of course, but they had their duties to attend.

Some Minutemen thought this event was simply the General performing a public relations stunt; others thought it was good for kids to see what the Minutemen are like up close, in case they ever need them or want to join. A few Minutemen even started trying to come up with a way to safely transport more people here. Stealing a Brotherhood vertibird was floated as a possibility, but I silenced that with a glance. “Just a joke, General.”

I smiled, “How would you fly it if you did manage to steal one?”

They frowned, and went back to brainstorming.

The day went very well, a chill night wind sending the children inside. The children and their families shared space in the barracks overnight, and in the morning it was time for everyone to return home. Billy was effusive in his thanks, and told me to thank “Mr. Danse” as well. Mr. Peabody echoed the sentiment. I told them I would, and they headed south with the Warwicks.

MacCready and Duncan followed us west. When Piper found out MacCready is from the Capital Wasteland, her questions didn't stop until we parted ways. MacCready, clearly attempting to flirt, was more than happy to answer until it was time for he and Duncan to move further north.

After our safe return home, life finally returned to its usual routine - as much of a routine as a private detective in a post-apocalyptic wasteland can have. Much like before the war, there are always people who need help. Unfortunately, also as it was before the War, many of their problems are dull. Valentine would scold me for referring to them as such, but that is the best description. Now that I’ve grasped the finer points of life in this century, now that I can distinguish a scavver from a trader from a farmer by the patterns of mud on their knees, much of the mystery of the world is vanishing. It’s difficult to keep myself occupied.

And so it was that one afternoon Valentine came home from the office to find out why I hadn’t joined him there yet. He found me lying on the sofa with an arm draped across my face. He spoke to Codsworth in the hall, as if that would be far enough for me not to know what they were talking about, and strolled over to me.

“Any way I can help?” he asked.

“Murder someone and do a marvelous job hiding the evidence.”

I could hear the smile in his voice, “How about something less gruesome?”

“Burglary, blackmail, anything. As long as it’s stimulating.”

“Mhm. Here, move your legs… alright, I’ll move them for you.” My legs were suddenly pushed over the side as Valentine sat down, resulting in my body shaped like an ‘L’. “Now sit up.” I did not. He sighed, “Come on, Holmes, what’s wrong?”

“Depression triggered by the futility of a banal existence,” I answered flatly.

I heard the strike of a match as he lit a cigarette, “I sure hope existential ennui isn’t hereditary.” I scoffed at his attempt at humor before realizing he might have been in earnest. “Codsworth told me you haven’t eaten today. At all.”

“Food. What appeal could that possibly hold?”

“At the very least, it’ll help keep the folks who love you from worrying so much. You gonna be lying here like this when Shaun gets home from school?”

“Possibly.” I fully recognize I was being petulant now, but at the time I only knew I was bored.

Valentine smoked in silence for a few moments. “How do you feel about ghosts?”

The question was so outlandish I brought my arm down from my face, “What?”

He tried not to grin at his miniscule success at gaining my interest, “Rumor has it that the old Museum of Witchcraft up in Salem is haunted.”

I frowned, “Valentine, my feet remain firmly in the realm of reality, no matter my mental state. Ghosts need not apply.”

“They do when the alternative is this,” he gestured to my position. “I’m getting you out of the house, and away from any potential, uh, temptations.”

I was annoyed, “I haven’t taken anything.”

“But you’ve thought about it.”

He wasn’t accusing, there was no malice or judgement in his voice, just a simple fact and all the consequences it implied. I would have been remarkably irritated if he didn’t love me so much. “Salem is at least a two day walk,” was my rather pathetic attempt at argument.

He laughed. “Since when has that stopped you?”

The outside of the museum resembles a Gothic style church, as fitting a setting as any. The main door to the building was chained shut, so we searched for another way in. Near the cellar door on the side lay the body of a Gunner, torn apart. Quite literally.

“Goodness,” Valentine muttered as I inspected the remains. “What do you think got her?”

“This might shed some light on the matter,” I said as I held up a holotape. The Gunner had been recording when she was killed. I played it on my Pip-Boy, and listened to this Private Hart speak to her commanding officer about hauling luggage from Lynn Woods for a robot butler named Wellingham.

“Wellingham?!” Valentine was shocked. Wellingham, I recalled, is the name of the Mr. Handy that works at an Upper Stands taphouse in Diamond City. “What the hell sort of business does that bartending bot have with Gunners?”

The tape continued, revealing the Gunners were being pursued by… something. Whatever it was, it was enough to have the commander in a mild panic. Everyone hurried inside the museum… except Private Hart, who was caught before she even knew what she was supposed to be running from.

A cold wind rattled the dead leaves on the trees and ground. “We goin’ in?” Valentine asked.

“My dear Valentine, this excursion was your suggestion. We would be remiss to turn back without investigating the ‘haunting.’”

“Thought you’d say that,” my partner grumbled and readied his gun. Together we descended into the basement.

We found the body of the commanding officer dismembered and beheaded on the floor, two of his squad in similar state close by. Something very large moved across the floorboards above our head. “Well, I don't think it's a mole rat,” Valentine softly muttered.

“Indeed.” I started to move toward the stair up to the main floor, the light of my Pip-Boy casting them in eerie green. The body of a dead Gunner hung through a gap in the dilapidated boards overhead. We froze as something pulled it out of sight.

“My god,” Valentine's voice betrayed a trace of fear. I couldn't blame him as a chill went down my own spine.

We could have turned back, but now I was curious. We crept up the stairs and entered the museum. The main floor of the building had been demolished, with little to indicate that once it had held any sort of exhibits or historical value. A low growl came from the back of the room as we hurried across the front, a massive scaled shape roaming the debris, its horned head turning as if looking for something.

We ran through the next doorway. “Front door’s chained shut,” Valentine whispered, “and getting that rusted lock off’s gonna make a lot of racket… what on earth?”

We’d stumbled upon a Gunner corpse in the museum’s bathroom. Scattered among his remains were gigantic eggs, their shells cracked or crushed. The man’s log provided an explanation - the Gunners were hired by Wellingham to bring him a nest of deathclaw eggs. The senior officers knew the mission, but the men, this sergeant and the private dead outside, and likely every other corpse in the building, had no idea what they were carrying.

I spotted a single undamaged egg and carefully picked it up.

“Letting a deathclaw see you carrying her egg ain’t the best idea,” Valentine muttered as he kept watch out the door.

“I have no intention of letting her. The nest is somewhere near Lynn Woods. We’ll have to make quick work of that chain on the door, or sneak out past -”

“Partner, I gotta admit, exactly how we’re gonna find a deathclaw nest without getting ripped apart escapes me.”

He had a point. “Still, it’ll be a cold day in hell before I let that glorified liquor cabinet use this to feed his pampered customers.”

“Ah, spite. Few motivations are so great.”

“You think this is insane.”

“Nope. I always like the idea of returning stolen goods. Hey, now’s our chance. Let’s move.”

We managed to escape that place without drawing the deathclaw’s attention and headed for Lynn Woods. “You are certain you want to come with me to return this egg?”

“I'd rather it be me doing the returning, simply because I probably won't die if a deathclaw rips my arms off, but the idea's a good one. It's not easy to do the right thing for something that seems so evil, but everyone deserves their fair shot.”

His sincerity brought me up short. “Mr. Valentine, sometimes you are astounding,” I said with full affection.

He was amused, “Not bad yourself, Mr. Holmes.”

“I'm perfectly serious. The amount of compassion you maintain in the face of this world is nothing short of incredible.”

“Ain't always the case,” he cautioned, “and my patience for folks gets pretty short when they waste their chance to do good.”

“Be as humble as you like, I stand by my statement.”

He laughed, “God forbid I argue with your ridiculously high opinion of me.” His hand briefly brushed my lower back, “Come on, let's get that egg back to the nest.”

Having left the presumed mother of the eggs in Salem, it was something of a surprise when the other parent stepped out of the darkness as we crept toward the nest. We froze, the egg in my outstretched hands. It growled, but didn’t attack.

“Think it knows what we're trying to do?” Valentine whispered.

“I don't want to stay to find out,” I muttered, and gently put the egg in the pile of vegetation and dirt. The deathclaw took a single step forward as we slowly backed away, watching our retreat until we were willing to attempt turning tail and running as fast as we could away from that place.

“You know Holmes,” Valentine joked, “I think ‘no ghost stories’ might be a good company policy after all.”

[suchwastelanders]

James “Jimmy” Adams

(blog)

Basics

Full name: James Adams; 0V-3R Nickname: Jimmy; Override Gender: Male Race/Ethnicity : American; cybernetically enhanced human Date of Birth: August 13th Birthsign: Leo Age: Approximately thirty-six physically; over two centuries old in reality

Sexual orientation: Heterosexual Relationship Status: Single City or town of birth: Montauk, New York Current location: Wandering the Commonwealth, though can frequently be found in Goodneighbor Job: Mercenary; scavver Factions/Affiliations: None Religious beliefs: None Character alignment: Chaotic Good Fighting style/Weapon of choice: A multitude of weapons, although he has a penchant for both highly accurate (i.e. rifles) and explosive weaponry.

Appearance

Height: 6'0" Weight: 170lbs General Health: Healthy Figure/build: Toned Hairstyle and color: Brown, currently hangs just above his shoulders, but he has been considering getting it cut as of late Eye color: Blue-green Skin color: Olive-toned Tattoos: Serial number underneath hairline on back of neck labeling him a courser; courser code just below serial number Scars: Multiple along body: most prominent is a scar through his right eyebrow, along the left of his jaw, and the scars on his left shoulder and side from the accident that required his arm to be amputated Piercings: None Clothing: Dark clothing, usually; either dressing for comfort or tactical use; cargo pants, flannels, boots, thick jackets, etc

Personality and Family Likes: Sweets, baby animals, accuracy-based or explosive weapons; “using his hands” (building, tinkering, repairing, etc) Dislikes: The Institute; Diamond City; people controlled by fear Fears/phobias: Being ‘recovered’ by the Institute; hurting someone; rejection; intimacy Hobbies: Repairing weapons; reading up on other mechanical repair Known for: Currently, he’s not known by anyone for anything - and he prefers that; in the Institute he’s a whisper to the synths, a threat to ‘be good and behave’

Parents: John Adams; Marsha Adams Significant other/s: None Siblings: Joseph Adams; Christine Adams; Jane Adams Pets: None

Faceclaim: Sebastian Stan

[ask-jaghatai-khan]

Dogs of the 41st Millennium

By special request, I’ve made a sequel to Cats of the 41st Millennium. This time for dogs.

Already a diverse and closely symbiotic species before mankind ever left their cradle of Terra, the common dog has undergone numerous changes throughout the millennia to adapt for both its own needs and the needs of humanity. Certain breeds have been created, gone feral, been domesticated again, and bred into new forms in short enough time to be observed by singular long-lived humans in the galaxy, to say nothing of all the changes ten-thousand years bring. The domestic dog continues to be both a fearsome predator and a loyal companion, no matter the allegiance.

Imperium

More breeds of dogs may be found in the Imperium than there are worlds within its domain. From small and adorable breeds beloved by aristocrats to fearsome killers as deadly as some Tyranid strains, dogs are a mainstay of certain Imperial cultures altogether. Not only the common dog, but the ancient wolf has also been brought to many worlds, ensuring that these canine predators are a ubiquitous threat in the galaxy. Imperial law enforcement often makes use of various breeds of “Battle Mastiff” that have been specially bred for the brutal warfare inherent to the far future. When situations are too intense for even large and trained war-beasts, cybernetic enhancements may be used to create cyber-familiars that are even more sturdy and loyal. These creatures are used by near every branch of the Imperial armed forces in some capacity, even among some chapters of the mighty space marines. In the underhives, wild dogs can be found, mutated and hungry for any morsel they can scavenge up. If a scavver can keep one of these beasts obedient with the promise of food, they can make for excellent scroungers and guard-animals.

Chaos

Everything, living and sometimes not, is affected by the radiation of the Warp, and the whispers of Chaos. Chaos warhounds can be found among many groups of the damned, mainly those traitor guard regiments who made use of dogs to begin with. Chaos taint produces creatures faster, stronger, more aggressive, and host to many mutations that can make them even more dangerous, such as acidic saliva and supernatural abilities. The downside being that the hyper-aggression inherent to Chaos makes the bonds between these beasts and their masters less stable. Chaos hounds released into the wild may still survive despite the hindrances of mutation and pack infighting, however, due to the sheer hardiness of these dark creatures.

Nurgle

Nurglite warhounds are among the most sociable of the Chaos dog breeds, forming larger packs, showing better cooperation, and getting along very well with their owners. Yet these creatures mirror the Beasts of Nurgle native to the Plaguefather’s domain; a Nurglite hound deprived of affection become progressively more aggressive until little can sate its wrath. If a Nurglite dog is killed while in this mood, their body will often explode into a swarm of angry daemon-flies which carry the dog’s neglected emotions, seeking revenge. Nurglite dogs are host to many diseases, having squat and sturdy forms that hide the great speed they can still muster. Though ugly, plague cultists love these beasts so much they’re almost remiss to send them into battle.

Slaanesh

Slaaneshi hounds are serpentine and surreal beasts that still would not look out of place in the court of an Imperial noble, as many are mutated to have long and graceful forms suited to fast-pace hunting. The melodic howls of Slaaneshi dogs can inspire supernatural fear in their prey, and are considered pleasing to the ears of the Prince’s followers. The claws, teeth, and spines of Slaanesh’s warhounds inflict hallucinogenic and excruciating venom, and they are quite cruel for a dog breed, preferring to run their prey to exhaustion before the kill. Even great Chaos Lords may enjoy the presence of a loyal warhound, as they make for impressive pets, and are fond of brutalizing foes and underlings to spark their master’s admiration.

Khorne

Khorne’s patron animal is often considered to be a hound or wolf, and the daemonic beasts known as Flesh Hounds are made in partial likeness to dogs. For this reason are warhounds popular amongst the ranks of the Blood God’s chosen. Despite their extreme aggression and strength, far outstripping most mutant animals, Khornate dogs are surprisingly receptive to training. If a beastmaster can survive initial attempts to gain the pack’s trust, Khornate warhounds have an almost supernatural sense for who their master wishes dead. It is believed by some heretics that Flesh Hounds and mortal dogs have some connection, and that if a pack can wreak sufficient carnage it may inspire the Blood God to send his own hounds to join the hunt. Khornate hounds tend to be used for flanking maneuvers, harassing infantry or running beneath armor with strapped-on bombs, all for the purpose of keeping the enemy cowed and central, so that the great warrior-charge may break them. These dogs are also fond of chasing down any who flee, whether they be cultists or enemies, teaching them the price of cowardice. When not in combat, Khornate dogs will search desperately for fights and food, sometimes eating mortals bones and all in their ravening.

Tzeentch

Tzeentchian dogs come in many forms befitting of the God of Change. From the grim hell-jackals of the Propserine graves, to the bird-hounds of the beastling covens, there are many breeds of Tzeentchian dogs suited for various purposes. Often they serve as psychic amplifiers, and make for good familiars to sorcerers. These dogs hunger not only for meat, but for souls, and can be used in the tracking of enemy psykers and the pursuit of wayward ghosts, making them good for keeping starships clear from unruly daemons that do not fall into a Chaos Lord’s plans. Amongst the Tzaangor, strange bird-dogs are used as classic hunting beasts, who may seek out prey with an innate precognition, being able to track their quarry across time. Tzaangor shamans may divine the birth of a great foe if his hunting pack starts howling in the night, or divine that it is time to join with a Space Marine warband if his dogs won’t stop staring at a particular star. Many Tzeenchian hounds can also cast magic, teleporting, enhancing their abilities or debilitating their prey, or even shooting bolts of energy with their barks.

Eldar

The Eldar do not make much use of normal dogs, though their mythology contains references to xenoforms that fill a similar role, such as the “Hounds of Kurnous”. Eldar combat maneuvers require extreme speed and precision, making war-beasts uncommon, except as psychic familiars—a role most often filled by the cat-like Gyrinx. Dogs may actually be found in the presence of Dark Eldar and Corsairs more commonly, where they are kept as fancies or sometimes altered into forms more suitable to the xenos’ tastes. The Corsair King Alaich had a pack of dogs that he used to flush hiding civilians out of buildings during his raids, the dogs having had their skin replaced with chitinous armor by a Haemonculi, but retaining a disturbing amount of playful exuberance

T'au

The Tau made use of doglike xenos in their distant past, but many roles a combat-animal might perform are now replaced with drones. When the Terran dog was introduced in its many forms during the Spheres of Expansion, it gained more popularity as a pet than a working animal. However, T’au law enforcement on a local level may make use of dogs to sniff out contraband, though even then they are not expected to hold their own as combatants. The Ethereal Aun’Dai was gifted a dog as a peace offering at the Emancipation of Levan II.

Orks

Orks do not make great use of dogs in any capacity save for the occasional snack, as their squigs tend to be more suited to the tasks required of them. However, Orks inhabiting territory that has not been fully taken over by the xenos infestation have had run-ins with wild dogs, which have sometimes succeeded in killing sizable amounts of the greenskins. Feral Orks may make use of wild dogs, as they tend to favor taming wild beasts as opposed to developing technology. Ork-trained dogs are often angry, hardy, and prone to killing anything that looks at them the wrong way, accustomed as they are to sudden danger. The feral Orks of Astrelis used large packs of hunting-dingos, which were later encountered in battle after the Astrelis Orks were press-ganged by WAAAGH! Ghazghkull. On the backwater world of Cairn Terminus, groups of upstart Gretchin took to riding giant wolfdogs in order to gain an edge over their Ork enemies.

[villains4hire]

Clarenci Von Polkawitz

I have no big disclaimers about this character other than he manipulates and betrays people he doesn't care about. But he can grow to care about your character in his own way.

I am aware Polkawitz is an altered name of canon and that's intentional.

->Final Space Disclaimer<- for my characters (placeholder)

Do I want them to die: He has his own ending and I use mostly the canon one, but with a little tid-bit added onto the end for his continuation. Will I have/get icons: I have them. Tag: always been me (canon s2 verse, I won't be using his redeemed version since he dies alone other than talking to Ash) | whispers of a scavver (continuation verse past his ending) - Clarence has left behind recordings, AIs, using his vast fortune to make amends with the people of his family he's wronged after his death. He has countless stashes, contacts, information and an AI that updates himself to give advice if people need his past knowledge or help. Though it clearly isn't him, yet sometimes, his hologram AI is a little too real for how it responds even if the ex-conman has been dead for a while. It's suggested to have Ash with your character for this verse considering it's pretty much dual-muse required. Age: Nearly a century old. Sex: Alien in nature, his species reproduces through spores. Gender: He/him identifying. Race: He's a type of fungus toad alien. Sexuality: Preferably 'women-like' beings but would be fine with men. Personality traits: I will not be covering his recordings verse as this covers purely his canon personality and my extended verse. Is rather nerdy. Rude. Thinks lesser of certain species like humans and refers to them as primates, albeit there are exceptions such as Sheryl who's probably only because she's 'strong'. He is fine with having 'indentured servants' as he calls it. A businessman. Has near insane, convoluted schemes. Arrogant. Betrays people a lot or manipulates them. Somewhat perverted at times though not extremely over the top thankfully? Prideful. Prides himself on his intelligence. Cares in his own way. Insecure. Very controlling. Holds a grudge but doesn't let money get in the way of that. Talks rather intelligently and often comes off as condescending. Narcissistic. Is a thief. Bad Influence. Likes to recycle. Bit of a collector and is a major hoarder. Tends to screw over the people around him on accident or sometimes intentionally. Can be rather cowardly or pathetic at times. Mental traits: Is a genius of many kinds. Physical traits: very small, around 3'5 to 4'0 as he's even shorter than Ash by quite a bit in canon. Powers: 1. Master of all things mechanical, electronic or plasmid. While he'd give the Lord Commander's engineer and technicians a run for their money with his brilliance? He's still very much just one guy at the end of the day, so a team of scientists working together would easily outclass him, but could still defer to him for his own knowledge for most likely a consultant fee. Now while he could learn Arachnitect technology? He doesn't have access to it in canon nor does he ever really learn about it other than vaguely in legends, writings, so he could probably point in the direction of where they are in their light fold webs, but that's about it. 2. Uses drones, robots or his children Ash and Fox to fight for him. Ash Pre-Continuation Verse and Fox Pre-Continuation Verse are both on here before Fox dies and Ash becomes what she does for my ending for her. So expect at least one of his kids with him and some robots probably if choosing to attack him. 3. A.V.A is his AI before her death on his ship the Crimson Light, she listens to him and flirts with him until Gary comes along and eventually wins her over. 4. Weapon Use - he does use things like a plasma pistol but will also use things like Ash's poison or spit on blades or droplets to put in peoples' food he keeps concealed. It depends if he wants them dead or to have a dehabilitating diseases that slowly kill them. And yeah he was probably tempted a few times to try this on Gary. 5. Knows how to hack rather easily. 6. Knows the universe and all the players in it like the back of his hand when it comes to the crime world or needing to find something. 7. Furthermore, has an extensive list of contacts when it comes to his ventures. 8. Extremely rich.

Motivations: To make money and build his empire | post betrayal, to make amends for all he's done and leave his recordings and AIs to help those that cared about him. Then make amends with his children. Backstory: Pretty much just all of canon yeah, not much is needed other than a little addition I added which I thought he at least deserved one final talk with Ash.

->Always been you<-

[tvrxnt]

"Are they dead? Did you kill them?" with Antonio and Jane

FROM A MEME I NEVER REBLOGGED LMAO. 

From thick stormclouds above the earth of Nyrox Alpha, torrential rain falls to cleanse the equatorial forests from the blood which had been spilled within the once beautiful grounds. Where trees and shrubbery had dominated the landscape, the bodies of the fallen lay scattered alongside the hollowed wreckage that had once been the war machines utilised both The Autocracy of Tritilian and The K’byak Hegemony. With both warhosts both leaving the skies of Nyrox Alpha at the conclusion of planet operations nearly 8 days prior, it had only been a matter of time before scavver parties would arrive and relieve the dead of any worthwhile equipment.

Despite a desire to keep his distance from the conflict at hand, an unrelated contract had boughten the mercenary Antonio Vazquez to train a group of freelance commandos. In spite of an otherwise perfect lesson, and a stealthy escape from the battlefield, a rival from another faction within Antonio’s guild had arrived with mercenaries from both the Autocracy and the Hegemony. While Antonio had survived the attempt on his life, he could not defend the lives of the students under his wing. Exerting himself more and more as the commandos fell, Antonio falls to the ground in a crumpled heap as the life bleeds out of the final hostile contact.

In the single day before his armor’s remaining systems forced Antonio into suspended animation, the mercenary drags himself to the bodies of his fallen comrades. Storing their dogtags in a hidden compartment in his armor, Antonio offers his final goodbyes as he takes steps to protect their legacies. The carrion birds and scavvers could strip what they could off the commandos, but they would not take the identities of the fallen. Resting himself against the hull of a bombed out APC, Antonio does nothing as darkness overwhelms his senses.

When sensation and color return to Antonio, the mercenary finds himself still in the forest, still undner the rain of Nyrox Alpha’s quadruple moons. However, the din of fires and the moans of the dying are replaced by a soft, soothing, and familiar voice. From underneath his polyadmantine helmet, a smile forms as brown irises make out the shaky profile of Jane Geibbs. Under normal circumstances, Antonio would have smiled at the aspect of being awoken by his blood bond, yet this was not right. With his students dead, and his body strained from the rigours of combat (three broken ribs, a shattered right forearm, and bullet fragments in the weak areas where his armor had shattered) any sense of warmth was swallowed by a sense of overwhelming emptiness: a pyrrhic victory.

Raising a left hand to undo helmet latching, Antonio finds his sluggish hand prodding away at the latch for a second before Jane’s hands swat Antonio’s manipulators aside. Undoing the pressure seals at the sides of his helmet, Jane pulls Antonio’s helmet to reveal bloodshot eyes and cracked teeth. Staring up at Jane, an awkward, knowing silence is shared before Antonio hears his blood bond growl a single inquiry.

“Are they dead? Did you kill them?”

For a single moment, Antonio finds himself taken aback and completely stupefied by Jane’s tone. Akin to one of a cornered predator, Antonio had never known Jane to harbor such intensity in her tone or demeanor. Refocusing his eyes, Antonio realizes Jane’s trembling is not the fault of Antonio’s concussed vision, but the byproduct of Jane’s caged emotions.

“Are you o-”

Before Antonio is able to complete his inquiry, Jane restates her inquiry, impatience injected harshly into her tone.

“Are they dead? Did you kill them?”

Startled by Jane’s tone, and unusual aura, Antonio nods softly, and uses his head to gesture to the carnage surrounding the pair.

“I did.”

Antonio’s words leave his lips as little more than a hoarse whisper, filled and fuelled by a reluctant sadness, Antonio nods as crimson tears begin to stream down his face. With the battle long over, and the dust settling, Antonio finally allowed himself to feel the full weight of anguish that came with the loss of his pupils. While the time for healing and recuperation would come at with the passing of time, Antonio would utilize the moment alone with Jane to weep and mourn, for their tears to fall with the rain on Nyrox Alpha.

@variative

[oedonretired]

It had seemed so easy, at first, when his heart was still aflame with the desire to find Shaun. Awake and alive and so inflamed with pain and separation and the desire for justice, it had seemed so easy to take on the entire Commonwealth -- raiders, scavvers, radroaches, yao guai, and all -- for such a pitiful ragtag band of do-gooders who so obviously needed his fire.

It had gotten even easier when Preston Garvey smiled gratefully at him and called him General, trusting him, needing him. He was on fire, after all, and a flame loved to be fed.

But Noah Kingfisher has been to the Institute, now. He’s been to the belly of the beast, and the flame is guttering; it is no longer easy.

The glittering energy in his eyes begins to dim, the lines in his face deepening. There’s confusion in his gaze now, as he stares at the expanse just over Preston’s shoulder; and, later, the confusion disappears, too.

The first time he comes back from the Institute, he is distraught. He rages, yells, berates the skies, and finally weeps. The second time, he simply weeps.

“How are you?” Preston asks after the third time, his gaze keen as he studies Noah’s inscrutable expression, but Noah just glances at him and shrugs before turning away from Preston’s comforting hand.

With every new thing revealed-- Shaun’s identity, Shaun’s distance, Shaun’s numbered days-- Noah’s fiery heart weakens. Though the flame had seemed to devour him, it is better than what awaited when the flame died out. Beyond the fire is only darkness.

The Minutemen don’t believe in Noah anymore. Preston is the last holdout, and even then only because he’s held Noah’s burning heart in his hands and pledged to care for it-- whether Noah himself knew the truth of this or not.

And besides this, even as he prepared to meet the Courser, to do what his son bid him, he’d muttered one thing to himself, one thing that no one else but Preston heard-- “This will not be. It won’t. I won’t let it.”

He doesn’t know what Noah is planning, but for an instant, that fire had flared hot-- the fire that burned away all that did not serve it. The fire that burned White, the fire that burned true, the fire that Preston could touch without being burned, because it knew him, and loved him.

If Shaun Kingfisher and his Institute did not serve it, it would burn them, too.

The Railroad was raring to go, but Preston hung back, his heart so loud that it drowned out every other sound. Noah noticed. It surprised Preston, because where once Noah had known his every mannerism and idiosyncrasy and the stories behind them besides, he had stopped acting upon that knowledge. He had begun to withdraw.

Today, on the precipice, Noah is wearing the General’s coat, and he takes Preston by the hand, and in his eyes the fire flickers briefly. “You don’t have to come.”

“I would not let you go alone,” Preston clarifies, because he’d learnt Noah’s every mannerism and idiosyncrasy and the stories behind them besides. “Never mind me, I’m just nervous. Big day. --Let’s go. I’m right behind you.”

Preston loses Noah in the melee, for a while. But he looks up now, as the battling on the main floor ceases for a time, and on the mezzanine above him, a synth of formidable proportion grasps Noah by the skull. Noah freezes, his eyes wide and blank, and the synth wrenches his head around to stare down at the rebels, Railroaders, and lone Minuteman below.

Noah raises his revolver, the simple but scarily deadly gun that he would never relinquish even for a better weapon.

Preston stares up at it, as frozen in its sights as its bearer is frozen in the synth’s mind-bending thrall.

The moment seems to stretch, in that uncanny way it always does as the spectre of death looms closer. Preston unthinkingly lowers his own weapon, thinking nothing, because the weight of what he felt could not be wrangled into words.

But Noah, his revolver trained on Preston’s chest... his mouth starts to move, and his hand starts to tremble, and Preston nods-- he doesn’t know why he nods, exactly, any more than he knows why the spectre of death seems to balk, then recede, cowed into submission.

Noah’s soundless mouthing becomes a mumble, then proper speech-- and then a strangled shout as he swings his gun arm in a vicious arc, slamming it into the synth’s shoulder joint, disconnecting entirely the robotic arm that previously held him captive. He discharges the revolver into the synth until it is spent, all the while still shouting-- “Kill if you will, but command me nothing! Kill if will-- command me nothing! Kill me! Command me not!”

It is finished.

The Institute becomes a ruin-- as above, so below. Shaun Kingfisher, the man, dies with it... but there is a new Shaun now.

Likewise, there is a new Noah-- the shell left behind when the fire burnt out. He stumbles on for a few days, until Preston corners him in their Sanctuary dwelling.

“Babe,” he starts, quietly, stepping up behind him as he stands staring numbly out of the window, and that’s when he notices the revolver on the window sill.

Even as his blood chills in his veins, Noah says lowly, “Take it. It’s yours. All of it is yours.”

“What are you talking about, Noah?” The fear is unmistakable in his voice.

“The child, too. The Minutemen. All of it. It was yours from the beginning.” Preston grabs his arm just under the elbow, trying to get Noah’s attention, his gaze, but Noah continues to stare out of the window, unresponsive. “So was I. But I died with Shaun.”

“Doesn’t look like it.” Preston’s voice is trembling now. This is as much a precipice as the showdown in the Institute was, as the trek through the Glowing Sea was... as the moment when the sole survivor of Vault 111 showed up at the Museum of Freedom with nothing but a fuck-it smirk and a revolver that sounded like thunder. But leaping from those precipices into the unknown served them all well, better than well in some cases. Beyond this precipice was only void.

“Don’t play dumb, Preston. I’m leaving. You. The Commonwealth. Maybe my destiny lies in the Glowing Sea. If not, at least it’ll be quiet--”

"Shaun didn’t need you,” Preston interrupts, gritting his teeth so his voice wouldn’t tremble so badly, “but I do. You don’t gotta care about the Commonwealth, or the Minutemen, or all the good you’ve done and can keep doing. Care about me. Because I’ve gotten damn used to you--”

“You’ll get over it.”

“Let me finish, damn you!” He could steel his voice, but he couldn’t check his tears. So be it. “I swore that I would stick with you until I drop dead and can’t no more. So if you goin’, I’m goin’ with you.”

Noah’s numb gaze flickers. “No, you ain’t.”

“I said it, didn’t I? The Glowing Sea, you said? No rad suit? I’m with you.”

“I have to do this. You don’t.” There is indignation in Noah’s voice now, and a furrow in his brow, and Preston’s heart leaps.

“Why not? I swore before God -- whoever or wherever he is -- that I would never let you walk into darkness alone. Don’t matter what the darkness is. With you until the end, is what I said. Ain’t this the end, then?” The quiver is back in his voice, and so’s the accursed bad grammar that both he and Noah lapse into when they’re struggling to express themselves, and he squeezes Noah’s arm until he’s sure it must hurt. “Ain’t I still here?”

Noah doesn’t go to the Glowing Sea, after all, and so neither does Preston.

Time passes, as it does, even in worlds that have moved on, and eventually they are too old to do much more than reminisce on their glory days-- and not-so-glory days, too. In those last days, as the spectre of death demands its due, all the past seems glorious.

“Ain’t I still here?” is the last softly-whispered phrase Noah hears before he falls asleep, not knowing it is the last time-- but knowing, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he’s glad.

[dylan-hague]

Chapter 3

“Captain? Cap--Van!”

Van jolted up in his chair, his head shooting up with pain nearly as sharp as a blaster bolt. What did Slaan put in that beer?? “What’s up, Beenine?”

“Ice, that’s what! Pulling us out of lightspeed!”

“What? That doesn’t make any--” Van nearly smacked into the console as the ship’s warp engine cooled down, the primary engines firing back to life. The blue swirl vanished, once again revealing the expanse of pitch darkness interspersed by points of white light. Indeed, the Bird was moving towards a mass of bluish-white haze thick enough to obscure the path forward. Any ship caught in that at lightspeed would likely be smashed to dust before they realized there was even an obstruction.

“Bee, gimme the controls!” Van began frantically throwing switch after switch, activating sensors and settings all over the ship. The pilot clamped his hands down on the flightstick that emerged between his legs, and hit the brakes as hard as he could. The Bluebird lurched as it slowed to a near stop, drifting ever-so slowly into the cloud. “That doesn’t make any sense, we’re in-lane! These lanes are supposed to be clear!”

“Oh, trust me, I’m already drafting a complaint to the Travel Commission! If we’re to stay on the lanes to avoid pirates, they’d better be karking clear!”

The girl slid into the passenger seat, buckling herself in. “What’s happening, Captain?”

“Ice in the lane,” Van said through grit teeth. “Nearly killed us.”

The girl frowned, peering into the cloud with keen eyes. Van shook his head; this was going to set them back at least an hour. “Listen, this is going pretty rough. If you’d like a partial refund, I can give you back 200 credits to make up for it.”

“Keep the money, Captain… something seems…” the girl shook her head. “This is wrong. This lane should be clear.”

“That is the point of a hyperspeed lane, yes,” said Beenine.

“Bee, don’t be rude.” Van scratched at his jaw, flipping a few more switches. “Route some more power to bioshields, and raise the sensitivity of the sensors to filter out the mist. I’m gonna have to navigate with the holo.”

This was an expense Van was glad to have made. As the holo emerged in front of him, the display showed him a red-tinted field of ice chunks he couldn’t see through the windscreen for the fine haze of frost crystals. Van pressed his lips together into a flat line; it was thick as an asteroid field out there. Van had flown through such debris fields before, but never strictly on holo. This was going to be exceedingly difficult. “I have a bad feeling about this…”

Van carefully guided the Bluebird through massive hunks of ice, some the size of freighters, some even larger. Each time one passed, the pilot and his passenger could see its shadow in the windscreen as it loomed by.

“Beenine, how far does this cloud go?”

“Another 3000 meters… Honestly, I would have gone around.”

“No,” the pilot replied. “This is too sketch. I’d bet my left eye there’s a team of Jockies waiting on the edge of this cloud.” As this thought crossed his mind, Van flipped a switch on the flightstick, then rested his fingers on its dual triggers. From beneath the cockpit, a humming emerged as the twin cannons began to heat up.

At once, the passenger’s eyes opened wide. “No,” she whispered, “not pirates.”

Van felt his mouth go dry as the angular form of a massive ship loomed through the cloud. He didn’t need to look down at the holo to know what the ship was. No one aboard the Bluebird needed help recognizing the warship.

The sight of an Imperial Star Destroyer was not one that was easily forgotten.

“Beenine… scan for life.” Van swallowed hard. “... Please.”

The console hummed quietly for a moment as the ship did its work. “There are one-hundred-fifteen lifeforms aboard the Destroyer,” Beenine answered, “but the ship itself appears inactive.”

Van leaned back in his chair and sighed. “Scavvers,” he said. “She’s prob’ly dead-in-the-water.”

The girl shook her head. “Why is a Star Destroyer sitting in the middle of the lane?” she asked.

“Perhaps it drifted into place?” said Beenine.

“Nah, the Commission has people to keep that from happening,” said Van. “But then that leaves another question, doesn’t it?”

“Maybe they couldn’t get to it for the ice?” suggested Beenine.

“No… no, this is by design,” said the girl.

Van turned to his passenger then. “What are you talking about? How could you possibly know th--”

Van lost his words when a familiar screech echoed through the haze. Every muscle in his arms tightened. A quick glance at the holo confirmed his fears.

TIE fighters. Three of them. Headed their way.

“Aw, hell. Hang on!” Van punched the accelerator as hard as he could, jerking the Bird into a furious roll. His eyes darted back to the holo as the ship spun through ice chunks, plotting a path through the ice field as quick as he could.

“Captain, I don’t think you can do this!” Beenine whined.

“It’s either I get us outta here, or those screamers splatter us across the ice!” Van shot back. “Help me out here, get me an opening to jump!”

“Calculating!”

The fighters screamed and swirled behind the Bluebird as the four ships tore through the ice. Van could feel his ship rock as showers of blasted ice chunks battered the Bluebird. The TIE fighters were taking shots in the ice field. Were they mad?? TIEs were barely armored. The Bird could take a beating like this, but they certainly couldn’t. The Bird spiraled and swung past looming shadows in the mist, Van frantically looking back and forth between the holo and the windscreen.

Red flashes illuminated the helm as blaster fire tore through the mist, barely missing the Bird. A fighter darted past him, swirling through the mist. Van grit his teeth and tilted the small analog atop the flightstick with his thumb. A small yellow indicator on the holo displayed his aim. A bead of sweat inched down his face as the ships continued to spiral through the field of ice.

The indicator lined up perfectly with the shape of the fighter, and Van squeezed both triggers. Green lights flashed from the cannons into the mist. Van heard the dull thoom of an explosion, and the shape of the TIE scattered on the holo. Lucky shot. Two more still swirled behind him, darting between chunks of ice the Bluebird had already passed.

Van could feel the flightstick moving on its own in his hands, guided by both his input and Beenine’s. He let her take the lead over him, as she could think faster and see farther than him at the moment. He was a fine pilot, but no one could fly blind through this. Maybe a Jedi, but where were they?

The Bluebird pulled upwards without warning, and this time Van did hit his head on the console. Another shower of ice scattered across the windscreen, and Van went pale as a small crack began to form. “Karkin’...”

The girl leaned forward in her seat, her fingers gripping tightly to her armrests. “Beenine, how far in this direction until we’re clear?”

“1200 meters!” the droid shouted. “But it’s going to be rough going!”

The girl grit her teeth and stood up from her seat, casting her safety belt aside. “Get ready.”

Van looked up at the girl with crazed eyes. “For what?”

The girl threw her hood back and stretched her hands out wide. Van noted that she was far younger than he had assumed, younger even than him. She squeezed her eyes shut…

The air began to rumble. The shadows outside the windscreen began to quiver, then reel away into the mist. Van could see on the holo that the glaciers were drifting out of the way. The screech of TIE fighters seemed to wheel away as the ice drifted toward their shapes, and the Bluebird straightened out under Beenine’s command.

“Jump,” the girl ordered. “Jump now.”

Van did not hesitate, punching the hyperdrive as hard as he could. The girl stayed standing as the swirling white haze gave way to blue lightspeed once more, and the Bluebird blasted off the lane and into open space.

Van practically melted out of his chair, his chest heaving and his breath heavy. He’d outflown pirates before. Pirates were stupid, and they flew battered clunkers. Even when those clunkers were built from salvaged Imperial ships, Van knew how to outdo a fighter. He knew how to outdo a TIE fighter. Hell, he’d flown against real ex-Imps before and lived. But those TIEs… those weren’t salvaged, and they weren’t battered like ex-Imp cells. Those TIEs were new. Brand new, fresh off the line. Someone out there was still producing TIE fighters for someone… but who, and why?

And more importantly…

Van turned to his passenger with eyes still wide with half-belief.

“You’re a Jedi.”

[those-out-there-blog]

A Moonlit Talk

The two of them sit in a field of tall grass. The night is quiet. The stars burn soft. Even the moon holds some of its ancient beauty.

They look up at it all and feel smaller than small. They, whose lives follow the cycle of sow and reap in the small world-within-a-world they call the town of Furlong. They look up and they wonder at what could possibly be going on up there, up in the black and silent void of the rest of the universe.

He looks to her and, after a moment, she looks to him. Neither says a word, for what words might give voice to such isolation? Instead they keep their silence and sit beneath everything that matters and can’t help but feel that they don’t.

It isn’t until the moon hangs in the center of the sky that the quiet breaks. She’s the one to break it, of course – she with her fool’s heart, full of gut-broiling bravado that roars at the sky that she does matter, dammit.

“That man came ‘round again.”

“The scavver?” he asks. A formality.

“No, the tall one. With the little robot.”

“Ah.”

“Five families are packing for when he comes next. Even old Cecil’s going.”

That raises his eyebrows. “He always said he’d stay in Furlong until his optics burnt out.”

“He had a talk with the man. Guess he heard something he liked.”

“You’re going, too?” He means it as a statement, but some stubborn hope twists his words into a question.

“I am. Will you?”

He wraps his arms around his legs and draws them up to his chest. “I don’t know.”

“I want you to.”

“I know.” They look at each other, long and quiet and soft. “But it doesn’t seem real.”

“It is real. If the man was real, it’s real. You saw what he did. He saved us.”

“Maybe.” He puts his chin on his knees and looks through the stars, at the memory of the man.

The man had been tall and mighty, as though from a story. One hand had held a rifle, the other thunder. When the skiffs had come he had not quailed like the people of Furlong. He had not hid.

He had fought. And, more – he had won.

“There’s no maybe,” she says. “He did. And he will.”

But the boy sitting in the field had seen what no one else had: he had watched that tall man die. He had watched him torn to wisps by the skiffs’ Arc turrets, had stared while the little robot haul the tall man back from the aether and put his body back together. He had seen that hero win not through skill or power but attrition; he had seen him whittle away at the Fallen, who could only die once, while he died again and again and again. Furlong’s hero was but a man – tall and strong, sure, but not beyond death, not beyond defeat. If the robot had not been there ….

“You’re talking like you’re already at his City,” the boy says. “He said himself it’s a long trip, a month of hard marching. Who knows what’s along the way?”

“He also said there’s more like him. More Guardians, who’ll help us.”

More corpses pulled from death. He wonders if they’re rotten, those Guardians, and if they wear all that armour so that no one can see what they really look like.

“Please,” she says. “I don’t want to leave you here. You won’t last the winter on your own.”

“I can find a way. There’ll be more food and firewood to go around with less bodies.”

“How is that any less of a gamble than leaving?”

“I know what to expect from Furlong. With the Fallen gone—”

“The Fallen aren’t gone. You and I both know a new crew will find this place.”

He has no response, and so they find silence again. This time it is a hard silence, tense, a silence made of coupled frustration. It runs deep between them and it is a long time until it is broken again.

She looks up at the night sky and again hears its whispered insistence that she is but a mite, a speck, a temporary cluster of stardust that will inevitably break apart and find its way back to the void. Defiance rises from her gut and its roiling heat forms a bitter phrase that breaks through her lips and into the night air. “I want there to be a point to all this.”

“Isn’t there already?” he asks, with a quiet desperation, a subtle romance. It goes unnoticed.

“No,” she says. “No. We aren’t doing anything that matters. We’re just surviving. Working through the years until we don’t have any left.” It is not until her eyes meet his again that she grasps the true question. By then it is too late.

He rises to his feet and it is what he does not say that fills her bones with ache. She looks up at him, mouth open, ready to say that is not what she meant, but they know each other too well. Her words are exactly what they meant. Even if she did not realize it.

He reaches down and helps her stand. Then he looks up, to the vastness of the dark, and feels so very small. There is a final silence. It buries the young lovers’ glee that first brought them to the field on this late summer’s night.

This silence is his to break. But he never does.