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#x7 and x9 my beloved
fallout4reactsblog · 3 years
Note
could probably use some lighter courser ask storm prompts after all those whumpy angsty sounding ones, hmm. companions react to sole builds a raider cage but decides to see what happens if they bait it with fancylads, discovering later that it consistently traps coursers. each companion's personal part has them open it to find a different random courser inside, including named ones like x6, z2, & chase (who has some explaining to do). the jarring ooc surreality of the situation is amusing.
Ada: “You seem to be stuck.”
The courser inside glanced up at the sound of her voice, box of snack cakes in hand, and slowly nodded. “I didn’t realize it was trapped.”
“Usually this is baited with chems in order to trap raiders,” she said, beginning to fiddle with the release mechanism. “I am unsure why it is baited with cakes this time, but I’m sure it’s just a mistake. Don’t worry, you’ll be out shortly.”
“Thanks,” they said, slowly getting to their feet.
“Here, another box for your troubles,” she said, pulling one out of her bag. “Though I don’t believe I caught your name.”
They took it with a nod. “I’m X4-18. Nice to meet you.”
“I am Ada. My apologies for the inconvenience.”
“No problem,” X4 said. “Thanks for getting me out.”
In a flash of light, they were gone.
Cait: A rattle from inside the raider cage gave her pause on her way back home. She almost didn’t stop, the raider cage was sole’s problem after all, but what the hell. She was a little on edge today, and maybe beating the shit out of some unsuspecting soul would do the trick.
“Hi there!” A voice said from inside.
That gave her pause, but she went on fiddling with the lock. These things were usually baited with drugs after all. Wouldn’t be the first cheerful raider to come out.
The door swung open to reveal a blond courser, grinning ear to ear.
“I seem to have found myself in a bit of a predicament,” he said, sticking out a hand. “X7-22, nice to meet you. Don’t suppose you’re willing to help me out?”
A courser? Hell no. Slowly, she shook her head and started closing the door again.
“Hey! Wait a second, I’m sure we can come to some kind of agreement.” He shifted to stay visible through the gap in the slowly closing door. “There’s gotta be something I can offer you. Money? Supplies? Anything? Come on, talk to me-”
With a click, the lock re-engaged. She dusted off her hands.
Coursers in the raider trap. Now that was a problem for sole.
Codsworth: “Oh, dear.”
He slowly hovered around the cage. The courser watched him with wary, predatory eyes. Codsworth made a noise akin to a sigh.
“They never learn.”
The courser opened their mouth to protest, but he waved his saw arm through the air, cutting them off. “Sole simply refuses to listen! I told them nothing good would come of this, and now look where we are. A courser is stuck in the raider cage. No good!”
He poked at the lock, still griping. “The raiders I could understand. No-good hooligans need to be disposed of. But this is madness. What is there to gain?”
The courser had shrunk back into the cage, presumably having realized that this lock was not built to be opened by a Mr. Handy, and they were going to be stuck listening to what he had to say for a while.
At least there was snacks.
Curie: “Pardon me.”
An unfamiliar voice made Curie jump, and she spun to see a man with slicked-back brown hair staring at her from the raider cage. She stiffened and turned back around.
“Ah, c’mon,” he said. “Don’t ignore me. I’m harmless.”
“I have no interest in speaking to such an unsavory character as yourself.”
“Not even a little sympathy for a fellow synth?”
She glanced back behind her, eyeing the man in the cage. He gave her a slick smile.
“What is your name?” she asked.
“Z2-47″
She frowned a little, gears turning. So he was a synth, and a courser at that. And by all accounts, she was a synth that needed to be brought back to the Institute.
...Hadn’t sole said something about needing to kill a courser?
She took one last look at him, still looking every bit like the cat that ate the canary, and put on her best smile. “Oh, but of course I will help you. I simply must find the person with the key. If you will wait but a moment, I will bring them.”
Not waiting for a reply, she went off in search for sole.
Danse: The trap’s mechanism was very simple. The cage was built so that you had to step inside to get the bait, then the weight triggered the door to close and lock behind you. Sole had built it to trap raiders in, usually baiting it with chems, though he couldn’t say how many times they’d sent him to go get Hancock out of there. That ghoul never learned.
Today, though, it was him eyeing the cage from across the street. Yesterday, he’d seen sole baiting it with no less than three full boxes of Fancylads Snack Cakes they’d pulled out of an old vault. That meant they were in pristine condition, untouched by the taste of radiation. He’d been too shy to ask them for one of the boxes, and now seemed to be his chance. He just had to get them out of there.
Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, he approached the trap, bracing one foot against the small step up into the cage and curling his right hand around the doorframe. If he leaned in, he should be able to...
Evidently, lose his balance and fall in.
With an unceremonious crash, he toppled to the floor, door slamming shut behind him. For a brief moment, he stared around at his surroundings, truly confused on how this had happened.
At least he hadn’t landed on the snack cakes. Might as well make the best of a bad situation, right?
Deacon: “Well this is awkward.”
Chase glared up at his mischievous grin as he asked, “So, how’s the weather in there?”
“Exactly the same as it is out there. Let me out.”
“C’mon, Chase. At least finish the snack cakes. That’s what you’re in there for, after all. Don’t tell me you ate them already.”
She glared at him in lieu of a response, and he fake gasped. “Chase, there was, like, three boxes in there!”
“Coursers burn calories very quickly.”
“Probably all that running and shooting and all.” He sighed and started to fiddle with the lock. “Well, no sense in leaving you in there. You’ve got work to do after all.”
“This stays between us. Understand?”
He laughed and said, “Sure. Between you, me, Glory, Dez, whoever they tell...”
“Oh, you’re impossible.”
Gage: The satisfaction he got from seeing a locked raider cage was like nothing else. Commonwealth raiders were stupid bastards, and if they were dumb enough to go into a very clear trap, well, they were dumb enough to die.
He chambered a round in his rifle as he swung open the door.
An Institute courser snarled and swiped at him with a very large, mean-looking knife. He narrowly dodged, shifting to dodge her second strike, and slammed the door in her face. An unholy screech of metal on metal echoed down the street, and he winced.
“Damn,” he muttered. “Coursers these days.”
The whole cage shuddered as the synth inside slammed herself against the door, shouting obscenities. He took a step back, debating whether or not he was willing to open it up again. On the one hand, there was a synth that needed killing. On the other, well, he still had one eye left, and he was keen to not lose it to a very pissed-off courser.
“Overboss!” he shouted up the street. “There’s some kind of feral thing in your cage.”
“What? Hold on, let me come look, just give me a second...”
A second was never just a second with the Overboss. He sighed and resigned himself to a very long wait.
Hancock: "Well, hey there.”
“Oh! Monsieur Hancock. What wonderful timing!”
Curie grinned up at him with a smile to light rooms, and he almost shielded his eyes against the brightness. Geez, this girl was bubbly.
“Whatcha doin’ in there, Curie? I don’t take you for the raider type, and last I checked chems weren’t your style. Mine, yes. Yours, no.”
“It is a funny story, really,” she chuckled. “I saw this box of snack cakes inside. They are in pristine condition, and one of my few vices, so for a moment I simply was blind to the fact that-”
“Snack cakes?” Sure enough, there was a mint condition box in Curie’s hand. “Holy shit, share.”
In a flash, he ripped open the door and launched himself at the second box of snack cakes. And damn, were they good. Untainted by the taste of radiation, they were perfectly balanced between sweet and sour, sponge still moist, coating still soft. Heaven in a crinkly plastic wrapper.
“Um, Hancock? Is it not rather cramped for the both of us?”
Oh, yeah. He’d landed right on top of poor, unsuspecting Curie. “My bad. I got excited.”
“Oh, no, that I do not so much mind. I simply wonder how we are going to get out now.”
Shit.
MacCready: “The way I see it, this stands to become a mutually beneficial exchange.”
Ol’ Z2 looked disgruntled, but asked, “How so do you mean?”
“I mean we could both gain something from this. I let you out of there, and you offer me something in exchange. Sounds fair, right?”
“Maybe.”
He rocked back on his heels. “So, what do you have to offer?”
Z2 frowned and dug around in a pocket. “I have some fusion cells.”
MacCready rolled his eyes. “No good. Sole’s got tons, and I don’t use a laser weapon.”
“I have a few bottlecaps.”
He squinted into the cage. “What, like, ten? Yeah, no. Not gonna cut it.”
“Well, then I’m afraid this won’t work out. Coursers travel light.”
MacCready tutted, tapping a finger against his chin. “I don’t know, that coat of yours looks pretty snazzy. Bet it’s well-armored, too, huh?”
Z2 looked almost offended. “Are you suggesting that I hand you my coat?”
“The way I see it, you don’t have much of a choice. You can hand me the coat and get out of there, or wait for a less sympathetic person to come along and shoot you like fish in a barrel. Your call.”
It took only a moment’s hesitation before Z2 agreed.
Nick: "...Danse?”
Former Paladin Danse’s head shot up, and for the first time probably ever, he actually looked happy to see him. “Nick?”
“What on Earth are you doing in the raider cage?” He cut him a sideways glare. “Don’t tell me you picked up a chem habit.”
Danse looked appropriately embarrassed, and held up a box of snack cakes. “No. These were the bait this time, and I rather foolishly thought I could retrieve them from the trap unharmed.”
“Isn’t the whole point of the trap that you can’t get them out without falling in?”
“Of course, and I knew that. I simply allowed my pride to get the better of me. I should have left them alone, but couldn’t resist the temptation.”
Nick just shook his head. “Well, at least you can admit it.”
“Would you mind letting me out? It has been a significant amount of time.”
“Yeah, fine.” He set about picking the lock. “I assume you’d rather keep this between us.”
“If that’s an option.”
“I guess. Wouldn’t want someone spreading it around if it was me.”
“I appreciate that.”
Old Longfellow: There was a long moment of silence. He stared into the raider cage. Reinhart stared back, still slowly chewing on a snack cake. The eye contact seemed to last forever as Longfellow tried to figure out what the actual hell Reinhart was doing.
“Did you need something?” Longfellow finally asked.
“Did you?”
“I’d like to know what you’re doin’ in there.”
“I’d like to get out of here.”
Longfellow folded his arms. “You answer me, and I’ll let you out.”
“I wanted the snack cakes,” Reinhart replied, sliding an open box across the floor. “Here. There’s still a few in there, if you want.”
“I’ll pass, you keep ‘em.”
Reinhart slowly slid the box back toward himself. There was silence again.
“So are you going to let me out, or...?”
“Right, right. Yeah. I guess I’ll go find sole, they probably have the key...”
Piper: Piper Wright looked and felt every bit like the cat that caught the canary.
“Well, well, well, look at what we have here.”
“Miss Wright-”
“For the first time, we have a courser who has embarrassed himself in media res. Incredible!”
“Piper, please-”
“X6, can I get a quote? What do you have to tell the people?”
She held out a fake microphone, which was actually a rolled up copy of the Publick. He just sighed and said, “Could you please let me out?”
“Not a chance!” she laughed. “At least, not until you tell me how you got stuck in there. I mean, c’mon X6, a raider cage? You’ve gotta be smarter than that.”
He visibly deflated. “Unfortunately, Fancylads Snack Cakes are a common vice among generation three synths.”
Piper practically crowed with delight. “Snack cakes! You’re in there for snack cakes!”
“Yes, if you could just-”
“Sole!” she shouted up the street. “You gotta come see this!”
X6 resigned himself to the fact that he’d never live this down.
Preston: The person in the raider cage was not a raider.
She glared at him through the bars. He could only stare back in shock.
“You’re a courser,” he finally managed.
“No shit.”
“How... how did you get in there?”
She hesitated just a moment before replying, “Snack cakes.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered, “Dammit, sole. Everyone told you this was a bad idea, but you did it anyway?” To the courser, he said, “I’m sorry about this. We’ll get you out of there, promise.”
“Thanks,” the courser replied, then added, “I’m X9-96.”
“Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen. Nice to meet you X9. I’m no good with locks, so I’ll need to go get the key. Will you be okay in there until I get back?”
She shrugged. “So long as no more rifle-toting raiders come by, yeah. No promises I won’t kill him if he comes back though.”
So Gage had been by. Just great. Under his breath, Preston muttered, “Be my guest.”
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avani008 · 7 years
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