x-01 - Tumblr blog

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gun for hire

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dive

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of the people, for the people

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boylston

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mar 1 2017 - nov 6 2287

ok this is really bad and i am really tired and the words are just not flowing tonight. i know i’m pretty much the only person that sees this blog but i’m even embarrassed to let myself see it and put it on the page. oh well, what’s done is done. i’ll revisit it later, i just want to remember all of this because my memory sucks and i didn’t mean to get so literarily carried away rip 

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atticus wondered when the last time he really, truly spoke to someone was. he was getting tired. the swim across the bay dampened both his body and spirit. what was the point of all of this? all his friends were dead, and it was clear there was nothing here for him. at least, not yet. despite many a contemplation of ending his life some way or another, he was still here. as to why, he did not know. something compelled him forward, always, even before the bombs were dropped. 

he did know, however, was that he needed to get rid of some of the shit he was carrying. he needed to find people - attempt to interact with them. life here wasn’t going to all depend on the shadows, he couldn’t function as an island forever, even if it was what he wanted. with caution and a vague memory of how to navigate the city, he pressed further southeast, deeper into its debris-laden streets. it was nothing like he remembered, but it’s not like it would, or should be. he observed the glow of what was left in the distance, never before seeing it so utterly empty, skeletal. humanity must have picked its bones clean in desperation, he thought - really, there is nothing here for him, nothing left. 

nothing left but answers, he then realized.  he wanted answers, he wanted an explanation, wanted reasoning. quietly shuffling among it all, he made himself temporarily at home in the fragments of old boston, close to the ground and as silent as humanly possible. he passed the public library, old churches. he heard hushed, gruff, foreign voices, subsequently clinging closer to the walls of the buildings. no way was he running into anything else.

soon, he found himself near the boston common - outstretched, green land embossed in the skyline. he remembered this, at least. its waters were now polluted, just like everything else, he thought. just like him.

he ducked into a close building, hoping for shelter. what he found - the “boylston club” - was anything but. belonging to the upper crust before the “war”, so he learned, it served as a place for their communal suicide after facilitating the dropping of the atomic bomb on the outskirts of boston. disturbed, but left with answers, he departed. it was not soon after that a glowing neon sign met his eye - “goodneighbor”. he was exhausted, it was midnight now.

he entered the gates, experiencing something he was not prepared for - murder in cold blood, the body threatening him seconds before crumpling to his feet. its killer - the mayor, a man with a grooved and worn face, a barely-existent nose, and shiny black eyes - welcomed him warmly, expectant of gratitude. ”of the people, for the people, you feel me?” atticus could not argue, and he was grateful. thanks to him, he’d maybe have a place to rest, finally. at least someone was watching his back, if only for a moment. he meandered around the small shops situated by the entrance, conversed with the owner of one named daisy, learned about the existence of “ghouls”, for she and hancock belonged to their kind. they reminisced about the world before the bombs, before all of this. after some thought, atticus didn’t think it much different when the massive geographical changes weren’t taken into account. he could live. he just had to work harder.

in exploring the town, he reached more neon light, this time advertising something called “the third rail”. attractive, he had to admit. gravitating toward the glow like a moth, he entered. a repurposed metro station, he now realized. despite the overwhelming smell of rotting wood and poor alcohol, it felt safe, it felt contained, it felt okay. about a dozen people were nodding along to the low, soft voice of a woman in a shining red dress performing on a makeshift podium.

another ghoul came up to him, this time in military fatigues and metal armor, offering him a supposedly dangerous job. maybe he needed danger, atticus thought. it was very distracting, at the least, and he seemed to be good at avoiding. he said he’d think about it, and the man walked away after giving him details, satisfied.

before he could sit down, the voice of a woman next to him piqued his interest. “another one of you mercs looking for maccready? he’s in the back room”.

he let the words carry him like a current. edging into the back room, shoddily marked “VIP” by the writing on two pieces of jagged plywood hanging over the door, he overheard a tense conversation between three men. from the looks of it, this maccready was not widely liked. the two men confronting him gave him a glare from over their bandanas as they left the room. maccready’s eyes locked with his, and a wave of panic washed over him. he didn’t mean to get caught prying somewhere he obviously wasn’t supposed to be. “look pal, if you’re preaching the atom or looking for a friend, you’ve got the wrong guy. if you need a hired gun, then maybe we can talk.”

he hated to admit that he liked the sound of it. protection - protection backed by money, protection less likely to betray him like he fairly suspected every other human he came into contact with would. “how about you? how do i know i won’t end up with a bullet in my back?” “you don’t. isn’t that part of the risk?” he didn’t know he was capable of being so collected, intimidating even, in the face of fear and insecurity. he agreed to hire the man. he seemed like he needed it, the company, the money, the time occupied. in his heart, he knew that he himself did too. if only he knew

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traverse

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side note

i only let atticus go to diamond city first due to the fact that i REALLY really really needed to edit his face. i think i have it as close as it possibly can be to his original face, and hopefully it’s the last time that i’ll have to edit it, save for the addition of scars and dust (which i am more than ready to start adding to his face, i just wish that dust actually changed opacity). so when i finally have everything else written out, i’ll just transpose the diamond city part into it. of course, it’s all skeletal, but still. i’ll write all subsequent logs assuming he did not go to diamond city yet and speak with piper.

in my original story - i want to stay true to it - he stumbled upon goodneighbor in a hurry after crossing the tucker bridge and seeking refuge. naively, he reads the sign and thinks, hmmmmmm this seems like a good place for me to stay.  as you know, he’s greeted by becoming a murder witness, and is scared shitless. cue finding maccready in the bar, and setting off with him, thinking it will be a good idea. well, it will be, but atticus realizes it won’t exactly be easy at first - or ever. he rushes into more danger than ever now, despite maccready being a sniper and valuing stealth. anyway, he meets piper when maccready takes another job and asks him to stay put. the job is near the river, and atticus can’t help but take a look at the “great green jewel” itself. so he drifts over, trying to stay inconspicuous, as mentioned before, but ends up getting roped into piper’s conversation.

lately i’ve been thinking so much about how long it would actually take to walk the distance from sanctuary to diamond city. sometimes, when i drive to school, i notice this large building on the horizon. it’s one i’ve seen up close before, and it’s just so interesting to me that it’s in view. i feel so adventurous, i don’t really get out of my daily routine much, as you may be able to tell. i can imagine that’s what atticus feels like when he sees his destinations in the distance. i think about the act of him actually exploring so much. it’s hard to describe, really.

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fenway

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feb 27 2017 - nov 3-5 2287

after hovering around the northwest section of the map for quite some time, atticus plans on making his way to diamond city, remaining as unseen as possible in the progress. he only wishes to keep an eye on the function of the city, see it for himself, observing passersby and keeping tabs. after being roped into piper’s scheme, he realizes that remaining unseen, in a bright blue jumpsuit at that, was highly unlikely, and he was foolish to think so. however, this encounter leads him into the middle of a strange happening.

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he goes south from the wildwood cemetery after experiencing a peaceful sunset, hugging the waterline and avoiding covenant (god forbid, he walk in on another group of people. the minutemen drained the energy he’d been building for the past week or so since waking up and acclimating himself to his new and horrifying surroundings) until he reaches tucker bridge. it’s dark, he’s easily shrouded. this is how he loves to be, he now realizes. he will do anything to stay that way. though, upon finding a backlit lift, he can’t resist ascending to the top of a looming overpass, even if it does mean his life is on the line.

after making sure the area is clear, he calls dogmeat onto the lift and brings him up. he thinks, it might be best to visit the city first in daylight. while he prefers to hide in the shadows, nothing guarantees that others won’t be waiting there for him. he decides to sleep there, inside the skeleton of a pre-war shuttle bus, the soft green glow of diamond city (fenway park, as he remembers, not too far from his university or apartment) meeting his eyes before they finally close.

in the morning, he takes the lift down, tentatively crossing the tucker bridge. it reeks of gasoline, and soon after his crossing, he’s met with gunfire and a raider he has no choice but to stealthily stab with his switchblade and bolt. he runs into someone calling himself “the scribe” selling armor, but doesn’t buy, and sets off again. at this point, his plan is completely trashed - another group of raiders, along with their turret, find him, leaving him sprinting and panting around every corner in cambridge until he panics and, much to his dismay, splashes into the river. 

he swims under the bridge, making sure to be cautious and picking up some of the household items he found stored underneath, until he reaches the other side of the river - just near fenway. he remembers taking the bus over this bridge, never thinking he’d have to cross the waters with his own body.

after hearing gunfire and sprinting again, he finds himself at the gates of fenway park - “diamond city” - with an eccentric woman yelling over an intercom to be let back in. a reporter - those still exist? - that wrote something a bit too controversial for the inhabitants of the park, so it seems. much to his dismay and surprise, she ropes him into her little plan to enter, and before he knows it, he’s speaking with the “mayor” and being asked his opinion on free speech. he reluctantly replies, trying to keep himself as low-profile as possible. this seems to upset the woman, piper, as she is called - but she still invites him for an interview later. great, he thinks. great entrance, great job at being inconspicuous. he furrows his brow and walks up the stairs into the park.

it’s absolutely overwhelming. the smells, the colors, the chaos. he overhears piper talking to a young girl (must be her sister the mayor spoke of, he thinks) about the broken printing press. the girl, nat, then waves him over, giving him the full briefing on what exactly is happening, why everyone is so paranoid about this “institute”. ah, the massachusetts institute of technology. the university he was too poor, too underqualified to attend. but why is it relevant now, supposedly 200 years after his attending college? were there academics left, why were there stories of “synths”, synthetic humans, bodysnatchers, on everyone’s lips? he knew artificial intelligence development was well underway, even in his early years, but he can’t imagine it’s come to the plot of every science fiction movie he’d seen as a young teen. he ended up shrugging it off, telling her, “i’ll be fine.” “i’ve heard that before” she says, as he walks away.

he spends the night on a secluded bench, towards the back wall of the “city”. this is ridiculous, he thinks. but they’ve found a way.. they’ve found a way to survive. he wonders if one day, society will have brought itself back to what it was when he was young, before all of this. he corrects himself - he’s still young. nineteen and thrown into a completely new environment. he laughs as he remembers writing “adaptable” on all of his job and internship applications. now, it’s really being put to the test. nothing revolving around the old sense of the word matters anymore. he wonders if he was ever deserving of using it as a descriptor. time will tell.

in the morning, he gives into piper’s offer. she’s the only person, even counting the head of the minutemen, that has appeared trustworthy to him. warm, kind. he wants to give into it, but restrains himself. no one can be trusted, especially at face value.

she’s smoking a cigarette meditatively, checking her printing press. she calls him blue (because of his vault suit, how clever, he thinks) and asks him questions about who he is, how he got here. upon learning his origin, she gawks, mumbling “the man out of time” under her breath. he likes that title, although it is much more grandiose than he thinks he deserves. if anything, he’s a nothing but a fish out of water, flopping helplessly until he finds his way back to where he came from. except he can’t. she asks him for a word of advice to the people of diamond city. he offers a simple statement, one that he perhaps needed to hear himself say as well. “you can only take it one day at a time. just keep going. it’s all anyone can ever do.”

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forward

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capability

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retribution

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sympathy

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first kill

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.44 magnum

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contact

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nov 18 2016 - oct 27 2287

unfortunately, it’s been months since i’ve been able to truly work on atticus, so i’m a bit behind on logging his progress, but that’s okay. some fairly important things happened since the last time i wrote.

atticus retreated back to sanctuary after gathering whatever supplies he could find from the scrapyard, and ended up shooting his gun at some bottles behind the house he holed up in. he still didn’t quite have the hang of it, though. afterwards, he watched the sun set with dogmeat, and retired for the evening.

the next morning was incredibly foggy. atticus decided to follow the power lines, and came upon abernathy farm. the family living there were the very first humans he came into contact with after waking up. in his ominous approach, the father of the family took him for an enemy, and drew a weapon on him. however, atticus soon made it clear that he was not a threat, and the man commented on his vault suit. shocked and confused, he was welcomed into their home to discuss the state of the world. the abernathies mentioned the murder of their other daughter, and began teaching atticus how to work the land. he returned to sanctuary at about sunset, and started cultivating a small area of land.

with the courage to push on knowing he had familiar faces in the area, he discovered the gorski cabin. while a wonderful place for supplies, it greatly unsettled him.

that’s basically it, i mean, i don’t really remember much else. in the end, this is for me, so i’ll probably just revert to an outline of events. i want to write about him soon, it’s just so hard!