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thedistantstorm · 5 years ago

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A Gentle Truth [3/3]

A Ghost finds his Guardian in the ruins of Tokyo. She asks him for a name. He agrees, but only if she grants him one in return.

Previously: One | Two

They come across a scavenger in the ruins on her sixth day. He's a burly man who makes a lot of noise and seems to enjoy shooting Fallen who happen upon him.

Something about him frightens her, frightens his Guardian. Perhaps it's the scars on his arms, or the obvious weapons at his sides, or the love of chaotic violence. "We can go around," The nameless Ghost tells her. "He won't be able to see us. He doesn't have a display like the one we share, to tell him of enemies nearby."

Even still, one scavenger usually means there are others - they come in groups, Ghost says. She keeps to the shadows, moving stealthily between the skeletal buildings that tower above her, their frames built to withstand earthquakes. Something about it bothers her, makes her expressly sad, for reasons she does not understand.

Something in her recognizes this place, even if she's only perturbed by seeing an Awoken face rather than a human staring back at her in dingy mirrors. She is interesting, his Guardian is. He's found himself wondering about her more and more while she sleeps. Why was she returning here? Did she feel the pull in her previous life, too? It intrigued him to no end.

They're blocks away when they hear the sound of more fighting. She has no weapons, nothing in their search has been worth carrying around in the day, and fists will not defeat a gun. Not for a new Guardian, at least. She might get a punch in, but her enemy would empty a clip in her belly for it. And with her Light so new - warm and bright, but untempered - she hardly stood a chance if it came to an altercation, Ghost thought. He had yet to see her demonstrate the knowledge of fighting most Guardians seemed to intrinsically grasp.

He sticks close to her. She likes the comfort of him in sight, the way he uses himself like a beacon for her to orbit about. She does not understand that it's entirely the opposite.

They dip into the remains of an old shopping center. It's mostly open and overgrown, the glass ceiling shattered across the dirty tiles. "They're following us, aren't they?" She whispers, in accented common.

He bobs, dimming his singular eye. "They must be tracking us, to see what we find. You're stronger than them."

She gives him a comical look, sceptic.

"You'll understand eventually," He hums. "Let's try and wait them out."

It doesn't help, though. They hide beneath rubble, carefully peering over counters and cracks in the flimsy walls. One of the scavengers throws off the collapsed beam and flaking drywall she's hiding under and motions with a crook of his fingers. "Come out, come out, little Lightbearer."

Over his shoulder, he calls something out in a strange language she doesn't understand. She rises and her Ghost phases away. Three more men come into the dilapidated store.

The large, loud man from before steps past all of them, grabbing her by the chin. "Well she looks like a newborn, do'dn't she?" He laughs, sneering. "Where's your Ghost, love? Ain't 'e tell ya how the world works?"

"Leave him out of it," She snarls back. One of them grabs her by the hair, their other hand falling to her shoulder, wrenching it back. The leader of their group releases her chin to smack her across the face.

Ghost appears beside her then, shell spinning furiously. "Release my Guardian!" He hollers. "She's not taking anything you're after."

They group laughs. "We know tha', Li'tl Light," He jeers. "We ain't after her at all," He explains. "It's just the easiest way to do this-"

The voltage of arc energy makes Ghost scream in endless agony until his tiny eye shuts and he falls to the ground with a metallic clunk. The two men - one holding a generator or fuel cell of some sort, the other holding a bit of exposed wiring, laugh, excited.

"Got 'em, boss! Bet you-know-who will be really pleased."

"You know he will, you little shits," Comes the gleeful reply. "As for you," He tells the girl, "I can tell you ain't fixin' ta fight and that suits us just fine. Who knows, maybe you'll find a new one someday."

"Give him back," She commands as they take turns tumbling her dazed companion end over end, studying him.

"Sweetheart, I don' think you quite understand." He pulls a knife from his belt. "You're not in'na position to be makin' the calls 'round here."

"Let us go," She tries again, flailing about, trying to get free. Her voice is earnest. "Please."

He just laughs and the scavenger with his hand tangled in her hair yanks to illustrate how useless her struggling is. No matter how she claws at his gauntletted hands, he does not budge.

"If the bot wakes, crank up the juice 'n hit 'em again," The leader instructs his men, turned towards them. "They're flighty little things." He scoffs. "Now. As for you-"

There's a crack and a howl as the woman's foot all but goes through that of the man holding her. His steel-toed boot is crushed, caved in. There's a lingering warmth, the smell of wood fire in the air. The Guardian growls. "Remove hands and I release foot."

The man holding onto her is helpless but to comply, gripping his broken foot with a guttural cry when she steps forward and off of it.

"Tell your men. Release Ghost, or I not be kind," She tells him, and the cherubic visage is gone, replaced by flaring nostrils and narrowed diamond eyes.

"Without him, yer the same as me," He says, waving his knife. "Except I have a-"

It feels like she blinks fire as the two men to her right drop her Ghost to the ground and hit him with more amps of arc. She plucks the blade from the man's hands - wrapping her hand around the sharp end - and casts it aside. If the bite of the steel into her palm, the blood marring her fingers bothers her, she gives no indication.

"Get away from him," She says heatedly. "Now."

"Don't listen to her," The man before her says, drawing a gun from his belt. "She ain't gonna do no harm. She’s just a babe.” His laugh is overwhelming. “She let me draw this,” He waves it at her, yellowed teeth twisted in a smart smile. “How ‘bout you back off and I promise we won’t hurt your li’tl buddy no more.”

“You’re lying,” She tells him, accent thick. “I not believe you.”

“You’re good. Really good. I was gonna let you think it’d be that way, get out of ear shot before we plugged ‘em up with so’more juice. But yer startin’ to piss me off,” He growls. “So I’m startin’ to think I should shoot you.”

“You not shoot me.”

“No?”

She looks at the canon in his hands, eyes darting from it and back to his own.

“Oh, you think yer gonna get this one from me?”

She narrows her gaze.

“Oh, that’s a horrible idea.” He levels his gun at her tiny, knocked out companion. “I’m liable to shoot ‘im instead.”

With untraceable speed, she headbutts the scavenger, slipping around him not a second after and twisting the arm with the gun behind his back until he whines and releases his grip on it. She thumbs the safety off and points it at the other two, who jump at the insinuation. “Not want to hurt,” She tells them, voice soft. Serious. “But I will.”

“Let him go,” They nod to their bloodied leader.

Sternly, she instructs, “Away from Ghost. Take men.”

They do as they’re told, walking widely around her to get their comrades. It almost goes off without a hitch. Almost.

But then the man she’d headbutted pulls the gun from his subordinate’s holster and fires at her when she releases his twisted arm.

Fight or flight instincts kick in. It’s as though she’s watching in slow motion as he pulls the weapon and discharges it at her. She moves in time and the bullet bursts through her shoulder, rather than her chest. Her face twists in pain and she pulls the man back by his arm, breaking it cleanly. When he moves to speak, she smacks him with his own gun. The force dislocates his jaw and sends him tumbling to the ground. She clenches her fists. They feel hot.

"Go," She tells them, dripping blood all over herself as she rushes to cradle her Ghost. "I won't tell again. No more kindness."

“You’ll pay,” They tell her, even as they tremble and shake. “People will find out about what you’ve done. Powerful people. Other Risen. You’ll pay.”

“No,” She looks up through stringy black-grey hair, eyes hard. She rises, watching them. “Do good, be good. No harm others. Ghost or Human.”

“I don’t know what kind of world you think you’ve woken up into, Risen,” The one with the injured foot tells her. “That isn’t how this is.”

She tilts her head to the side, considering silently. When she speaks, something has changed. “I think that’s the world we should be,” She answers, in a smooth, unwavering bell-chime tone. She doesn’t notice the sliver of cyan light from the flickering optic of the Ghost in her arms, but she clutches the shell close to her chest when he twitches mildly. “The world we should make it.”

She goes unanswered. They limp away to the Northwest. She heads to the South.

When he wakes, the sun is setting, and they are walking through buildings, toward the narrow sea that separates the island from the mainland. She moves slowly, but she does not seem to be nearly as fearful. The scavenger’s cannon is tucked into her belt.

Fingers smooth over his dented, battered shell, soft and sure. “It is nothing,” She whispers, equally as soft. “You are unharmed?”

He flexes the bits of his shell, perching on her cupped palms, wiggling in a lopsided line, unable to control his motions well just yet. She plucks him from the air, wincing as she does. “I think I’ll need some time,” He informs her. “But I can-”

She finds a place overlooking the water to sit and watch the remainder of the Sun’s journey down below the horizon. “I think I can do it,” His partner says. She crosses her legs on a slab of concrete and closes her eyes, basking in the evening glow. She gasps as she feels the tendrils of something strange unfurl within her. Her wound slowly, sluggishly weaves itself back together. She looks down at the material of her tunic and sighs. “Better,” She tells him, relieved. He seems to enjoy the strange energy she’s exuding, drifting up under her chin carefully, and so she endeavors to make it last as long as she can.

When it’s over, he moves far easier as well. “You said something,” He tells her. “Back there. To those men.”

His Guardian hums.

“You said you wanted the world to be the kind of world where people do good and are good.”

She nods. “It isn’t, is it?”

He shakes his body in a negative. “It’s more dangerous. Scary. Dark.”

“But we can make it better, yes?”

Surprised, he comments, “Your speaking is better. It wasn’t-”

“I’m not afraid,” She supposes mildly. “I think it’s better when I am comfortable.” She watches his singular eye. “If they come back, if they come for you, I will protect us.” She puts a hand over her heart, quicksilver eyes softening. “I am your Guardian, after all,” She reminds him with the softest of smiles.

“My Miyu,” He corrects. “You’re my Miyu. My gentle truth.”

“Mi-yu.” She repeats, looking at him in awe. “Is that-”

He spins, asking nervously, “Do you like it?”

“Sutekidesu!” She gushes immediately, thrilled, her finger tapping her lips. “I-”

“It’s okay if you don’t have one for me yet,” He tells her. “I don’t need to know now.”

She reaches for his fins, cradling him gently and bringing his top fin to her lips. He’s all but vibrating in excitement. She’d chosen his name not long after the subject had been brought up, but wasn’t sure. But now, she’s resolute. It’s the right choice. He is her spirit. A part of her, like she is a part of him. “Tamashii.”

“Me?”

“You,” She smiles. “It means-”

He interrupts, already having looked it up in that database of his. “It’s perfect. I love it. I love you,” He trills, hovering around her in an excited circle. “Miyu! My Miyu. My Guardian. We can make it better, this world. I know it. That’s what we’re here to do,” Tamashii chimes, determined.

Miyu nods, her emotions bright in those pale eyes, rising to her feet as the sun disappears and the skies are painted in the colors of twilight. “Lead the way, Tamashii.”

“Well, it’s not quite that easy,” He hums. “We’re going to need to find a ship. Or make a skiff. That’s why I wanted you looking for wood. I don’t think we’re going to get much further on the island here.”

“We’ll figure it out. I could always swim,” She says, earnestly.

He feints through the air. “Do you know how far it is to the mainland? You’d never-” He pauses at her silent laughing. “Miyu!”

She giggles helplessly. “You are gullible, Tamashii.” She dusts off her hands on her ripped robe. “We should start looking for something we can use to float across. The sky is red. We should have good weather tomorrow.”

“In a rush?”

“It’s a big world,” She tells him. “We’re going to be here a while.”

“You have no idea,” He tells her, hovering over her shoulder, right where he’s meant to be. “I searched most of it looking for you.”

#destiny fanfiction #destiny ghost #female guardian #oc: miyu #miyu the sweet bean warlock #ghost stories

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mrninjapineapple · 7 years ago

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Fallout 4 Word Prompts - Patisserie Tank Shamrock Penguin

This is the longest prompt I wrote, which takes place in a utopian AU where all of the factions have made a truce and formed a formal coalition for the good of the Commonwealth. Anyway, enjoy! :D

They passed by the patisserie, arm-in-arm, both smiling at the sweet smell of fresh pastry. They soldiered on however, full after their dinner, and walked past the other shops, soon reaching the end of the pier.

Nate leaned on the railing, Nora resting her head on his shoulder. They both looked out at the ocean, endless waves of midnight blue shining in the moonlight.

‘It’s beautiful’ whispered Nora as she stared up at the pale circle set in the star-studded curtain of deep indigo.

Nate turned to her, his eyes taking in the beauty of her profile, softly silhouetted against the lights of the fairground at the other end of the pier.

‘Yes, it is’ he agreed without following her gaze.

She raised her head to look at him, her expression suddenly bashful. She jostled his arm playfully with a small laugh.

‘You know, you still haven’t told me what all this was about,’ she said, eyeing him suspiciously, smile still on her face. ‘Dancing, a movie, dinner, and now a romantic walk by the sea? If I didn’t know any better, Mr Howard, I’d say you had an ulterior motive for this evening.’

‘You got me,’ he admitted with a chuckle. ‘Not letting that degree go to waste, I see. Can’t get anything past the new hotshot lawyer in town.’

She went to punch him on the arm but he dodged to the side, grabbing her hand as he pulled her against him. They both laughed as Nora gained her bearings once more.

As their laughter slowly faded, Nate leaned in for a kiss, tasting the sweetness from their apple pie dessert on her lips. He pulled away and stared into her piercing, green eyes.

‘I love you,’ he said, barely above a whisper, before lowering himself onto one knee. ‘Nora Elizabeth Murphy…’

Her eyes widened as she realised what was happening.

‘…Will you make me the happiest man in the world?’ he continued, taking a small box from his jacket pocket and opening it up. Inside was a small golden ring, a diamond set neatly in the bezel, glistening in the light as it winked up at her. ‘Will you marry me?’

Nora raised her hands to her mouth, eyes welling at the sight before her. She managed a nod and flung her arms around Nate as he rose, a manic laugh escaping both of their lips through tears of joy.

As they began to kiss, the world shuddered, a ripple running through it like a wave through water. Colour began to drain from the world around them, everything turning cold and grey.

Marcus disengaged the memory lounger, opening the glass pod and sitting up, the experience fresh in his mind. Doctor Amari approached, reading data from the holographic tablet in her hand.

‘Did the memory freeze at the end?’ she asked, a frown creasing her brow.

‘No,’ answered Marcus, squeezing his eyes shut as a familiar ache began just above his left eyebrow. ‘I just… couldn’t remember what happens next. And you’ve told me a thousand times: “A memory can’t be created…”’

‘”…merely recreated,”’ she said, finishing the quote with a small smile. ‘Very well Mr Howard, if you say the equipment is working as intended, then I shall believe you.’

‘How many times, Doc? Call me Marcus.’

The Doctor flashed him a quick grin before turning away.

‘Good night Mr Howard’ she said as she left the room.

Marcus sat on the edge of the memory lounger and exhaled deeply. He hadn’t lied to Doctor Amari, the machine worked perfectly with the new upgrades, but…

I couldn’t remember what happened next.

The thought floated in his mind, alongside the vague trill of Nora’s voice, and the faint odour of her perfume.

Am I forgetting everything from my old life? My wedding, Shaun’s birth… Nora?

He ran a hand through his hair and stood, willing himself on, trying to ignore the hollow pit growing in his stomach.

Leaving the room, he entered the main hall and looked around.

Memory loungers were placed around the edges of the room. Set an equal distance apart from each other, they, along with the clean white walls and floor, gave the room a cold, clinical appearance. They were the original series of lounger, standard pods with no added features.

Doctor Amari had invited him to try the upgraded version, complete with detailed simulations and POV functionality, allowing him to experience the memory from his own point of view. He had also heard whispers of a new type of lounger, created with a large tank of specialised gel to give the user advanced sensory input, but Father had been scarce with the details.

The Memory Den suddenly feeling cramped and stifling, Marcus left through the large double doors, feeling the cool morning air of Goodneighbour soothing his mind. A guard passed him, his features distorted slightly and his skin sagging as if too big for his face.

Must be in the final stages of de-ghoulification.

Marcus dismissed the observation as he continued on, entering the Old State House and leaving the cold behind. He climbed the stairs up to Hancock’s infamous retreat, taking the stairs one at a time for a change, savouring the quiet.

The soft hiss of the decontamination arch greeted him as he stepped through, two guards waving him into the Den.

Through the doors, he could see Hancock posing for a portrait, his signature costume draped over his irradiated body. As Marcus entered, he felt a familiar sense of respect for the ghoul mayor. Despite the fact that a cure for ghoulification had been found, Mayor Hancock had staunchly refused, sticking by the founding philosophy of Goodneighbour and its love of the abnormal members of the Commonwealth – “Of the people, for the people.”

Codsworth, holding a brush tentatively within the mechanical grasp of his claw appendage, made swirls and splatters of colour across the canvas, the blobs of paint eventually coalescing to form an abstract profile of Hancock.

‘There we are, sir!’ exclaimed the Mr Handy bot as he revealed his work. ‘I think you’ll be most pleased.’

Hancock relaxed his pose and stared at the image for a minute, his frown lost amongst the numerous strands of discoloured muscle and cartilage stretched across his forehead.

‘Erm… what is that?’ he asked as politely as he could.

‘Why, sir, it’s a cubist representation of your glorious visage of course’ cried Codsworth, spinning with glee.

Hancock paused for a moment before reaching over and turning down a dial on the side of Codsworth’s body.

‘Sir, what are you…’ the bot began, before his system adjusted to the reduced culture setting. He saw the portrait before him. ‘Oh sir! I do apologise! This childish scrawl was not my intention…’

‘It’s okay, Codsworth,’ replied the ghoul mayor. ‘We can try again tomorrow.’

The Mr Handy bot took that as his cue and hovered out of the room, his eyestalks sagging in dismay at his failed artistic skills.

‘It’s an improvement’ said Marcus with a grin as he entered the room properly, gesturing towards the smeared portrait.

‘Yeah yeah,’ chuckled Hancock. ‘What brings you to Goodneighbour, oh Sniper of Sanctuary? How may I be of assistance?’

Marcus knew that he was aware of his visits to the Memory Den but appreciated the gesture regardless. Nothing happened in Goodneighbour with Hancock knowing.

‘Just helping Doctor Amari before I see to some business for Father,’ he said, noting the way Hancock squirmed at the name. Despite the truce between the factions, the trust of the people was a difficult thing to earn, with many vividly remembering the fear caused by them in years past. ‘You haven’t seen Cait, have you?’

Hancock took off his hat and scratched his head.

‘I think she said something about going over to Nuka-World,’ he said. ‘Something about a… zoo?’

Marcus smiled and left the room, leaving without providing any context. He left the Old State House and went to the tall building opposite the entrance to the Third Rail, walking through the automatic door and proceeding through another set of decontamination arches.

The interior of the foyer was well-furnished and neat, with an almost militaristic precision to the arrangement of the furniture. A large sign was hung on the wall before him, the words ‘Teleportation Hub: Goodneighbour Station’ clearly emblazoned across.

He allowed himself a smile as he thought about the pristine building, built and maintained by the Coalition; the formalised name for the alliance between the Commonwealth’s main four factions. Ever since he had negotiated peace, the Commonwealth had flourished under the rule of the Coalition.

Each faction had an accepted role within the makeshift government, under the main leadership comprised of the highest ranked members of each faction along with Marcus himself. The Brotherhood were the military, using their might to crush various raider groups and super mutant hordes. They also donated their top scientists to the Institute’s research branch, whose main focus was the scientific development of the new world.

The Minutemen, being a well-respected militia, were the perfect candidates for a police force, settling disputes and guarding settlements, both large and small. The final faction – the Railroad – helped wherever they could, with their best field agents joining both the Brotherhood and Minutemen, and their scientists aiding the scientific pursuits of the Institute. The main role of the Railroad however, was integral to the success of the Coalition, as they were responsible for opening trade routes, communication lines, and scouting settlements across the Commonwealth.

Marcus was broken out of his reverie as a synthetic receptionist greeted him, rising from the chair behind the desk as she asked him if he required assistance. He held up a hand, politely declining, and watched as she receded back into her seat, a smile on her face as she continued her paperwork.

Focused on his task once more, he entered a set of double doors to the right of the desk and followed the signs pointing him to the Nuka-World teleporter. He stepped onto the raised dais and felt a short pulse of energy before a deafening thunderclap sounded and the world went dark.

‘Your ears still ringin’?’ asked Cait as she placed another glass of whiskey in front of Marcus. In truth, the chipped tumbler held a noxious brown liquid reminiscent of the whiskey he once knew but Cait would take no excuses.

He downed the pungent concoction and winced as the fire made its way down his throat like shards of burning glass.

‘Smooth’ he croaked, before words failed him and he devolved into a small coughing fit. Cait remained oblivious however, pouring a glass for herself as she sat opposite him.

‘So… what brings you to my neck of the wasteland?’ she asked in her Irish lilt. ‘You don’t come around Nuka-World unless you have to…’

She fixed him with a knowing glare, a small smile playing on her lips, reminding Marcus of her keen intelligence. He remembered when he had first met her as a lost and lonely drug addict in the Combat Zone, fighting for her next fix of Jet. After he helped her to break her addiction, he wasn’t sure whether she would have the strength to resist the almost inevitable relapse.

Looking around, he was in awe of her resilience. Not only had she resisted but she had thrived, taking a part of the recently cleared Nuka-World as her own and transforming it into a quaint market town; not unlike the Irish quarter of the Boston he once knew.

‘Just thought I’d stop by and see how the zoo was coming along,’ he answered, his mind returning to reality. ‘Besides, I don’t need a reason to come visit, do I?’

It was his turn to flash a grin as she drained her glass.

‘Best be careful,’ she said. ‘Don’t want poor Piper to get the wrong idea… or the right one.’

She stared into his eyes from across the table… before they both devolved into a fit of laughter. As Marcus wiped his eyes, he felt a rush of affection for her. Piper would always have his heart but when it came to friends, there was nobody he would rather have at his side than Cait.

‘Come on, best get a move on,’ she continued, mirroring his own action as she wiped her eyes. ‘Cito and Curie should still be there.’

She pressed a button on her armband and Marcus saw the words “TRANSPORT EN ROUTE” flash across the small screen. With that, they left the saloon, both of them shading their eyes from the harsh noonday sun. Entering the wide street, they found themselves flanked by stores of every kind, with vendors selling their wares to passers-by and each building flying the same shamrock banner.

‘The town has certainly flourished’ thought Marcus as they passed a group of people who waved and smiled at Cait, with one even cheering her.

‘You seem to be popular’ he said, flashing another grin.

She brushed off the compliment absent-mindedly but he noticed a swell of pride as she quickened her pace alongside.

Reaching the transit station at the edge of the town, they boarded the waiting Corvega – The Red Rocket – and travelled to the large zoo facility of Safari Adventure. The ride over was brief but Cait regaled Marcus with news and tales from her time away from the Commonwealth.

Stepping out of the car, Marcus was in awe of the progress the Coalition had made. The structure of Safari Adventure remained the same, with large pre-war signage and walled perimeter, but the Institute and Brotherhood workers had erected large-scale renovations, adding entire sections and wings to the antiquated theme park area. Above the walls, a large glass dome covered the facility.

There was a hiss as the electronic doors parted as they entered and Marcus found himself stifled by the artificial humidity in the dense overgrowth. Plants and trees had been given free reign within the enclosure and had flourished, with vines creeping over almost every surface aside from the pristine pathway.

High above them, the pair could see the glistening light of the dome filtered through the canopy. A flash of red zipped past a nearby tree and a loud caw sounded.

‘What are those things?’ asked Cait in wonderment, staring after the red streaks through the trees.

‘Parrots’ Marcus answered with a smile, remembering the time he had seen the pre-war creatures at a local fair.

Together, they made their way along the winding path, passing lush vegetation full of life. With each step, the artificial biomes seemed to open up further, giving way to enclosed expanses of thick forestry, murky swampland, and arid desert; each with their own plants and creatures.

Reaching the end of the pathway, they made their way down a long flight of stairs, eventually emerging within a large subterranean structure, with thick metal pillars holding up the ceiling. As they walked through a doorway, they found themselves in a small room with a large machine dominating the space.

The cloning machine was an eight foot tube anchored to both the ceiling and the floor, connected to a small array of electrical equipment and machinery. Standing at one of these terminals, Curie smiled and waved them over as she finished making her adjustments.

‘Monsieur Marcus!’ she exclaimed as she drew him into an embrace, kissing his cheek before letting him go.

‘Curie,’ he said, flashing a smile. ‘How have you been?’

‘Tres bien!’ she replied excitedly. ‘I have been-‘

‘Eh?!’ interrupted Cait, staring pointedly at Curie as she flung her arms out wide. ‘Where’s my hug?’

‘Oh Cait, you make me laugh’ said Curie, offering a quick peck on the cheek.

‘Not bad I guess,’ shrugged Cait. ‘Where’s that hunk of meat you normally have hangin’ round?’

Curie looked puzzled for a moment, before a small smile spread across her face.

‘Cito? He is in the generator room I think. He-‘

Without waiting for her to finish, Cait had left through another doorway.

‘She is an odd one, non?’ said Curie, turning back to Marcus.

‘That’s one word for her,’ he laughed. ‘I almost feel sorry for poor Cito. He has no idea what’s about to hit him.’

‘I do not think that Madame Cait intends to attack him’ said Curie, wearing a confused expression.

‘It’s a metaphor, Curie,’ replied Marcus, chuckling at her blank stare. ‘So how goes the work?’

He gestured to the machinery around them and her eyes lit up with joy. Not for the first time, Marcus found himself admiring the life-like nature of her artificial body as he felt his face grow warm.

Curie didn’t seem to notice however, as she launched into a tirade about her work. Marcus caught a few words in the jumble but before he knew what was happened, she had grabbed his wrist and was leading him through a long hallway, glass enclosures stretching down both sides.

They passed lizards and other reptiles in their rocky habitats, big cats and large apes, bears and wolves, and all manner of different creatures. Curie continued leading him, offering insightful titbits of information about the animals.

She stopped in front of a glass panel and cleared her throat before starting her spiel.

‘This enclosure holds a group of-‘

‘Penguins!’ cried Marcus, staring in amazement at the stumpy little creatures waddling around the enclosure.

A look of irritation at the interruption flickered across Curie’s face for a second before she regained her composure.

‘Oui. Emperor penguins to be precise. The tallest and heaviest species of penguin, they were once found across the vast tundra region known as Antarctica.’

Marcus couldn’t hear her however, as he stared absent-mindedly into the artificial habitat. Another memory had surfaced from his pre-war life; a time where at the start of their relationship, Nate and Nora had visited a local fair. Wandering through the open area, they had spied a zoo and were meandering around the menagerie when Nora spotted the penguins.

Small fat creatures, they stood awkwardly nibbling at the iron bars of the cage in a sense of bewilderment, running at every loud child that walked past. A group were huddled together in the centre of the enclosure, warbling in affection with flat, expressionless eyes.

‘It’s so sad,’ Nora had said suddenly, her eyes never leaving the cage and the creatures within. ‘They don’t even understand where they are. They can’t fly away. There’s no ice, no snow. Nothing they can recognise… except each other.’

A baby penguin escaped the huddle and bobbed over to the bars, peering up with half-open eyes. Nora crouched, reaching out her hand to caress the chick’s head, smiling as the curious infant buried its face in her fingers.

It had only been the beginning of their relationship but for Nate, it was all he needed to know. In that moment, he knew that Nora would be the only one for him.

An image of Piper flashed across his mind and he jerked back instinctively.

In his reverie, he hadn’t noticed that Curie had sidled up beside him.

‘Another memory?’ she asked gently, resting a hand on his shoulder. He nodded. ‘It is difficult to lead two lives, Monsieur. Adjusting to human life has been… a struggle. But you must not hold on to the past.’

He began to reply but Curie continued.

‘You are no longer the man you were. Oui?’ she asked. Again, he nodded. ‘That is why you are now Marcus and not Nate. You have to let go.’

He looked at her for a moment before lowering his head, a sad smile on his face. She had grown so much as a person, he couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride for her.

‘Thank you Curie,’ he said quietly before perking up slightly. ‘I’m sorry I ruined your tour.’

‘It is no problem, we can continue another time,’ she replied. Her brow furrowed as she struggled to formulate her next thought. ‘I do not like to see… a friend in pain.’

Once more, he remembered the emotionless Miss Nanny bot he had met so long ago and couldn’t help but smile. He pulled her into a firm embrace and was glad of the companions he had gained during his time in the Commonwealth.

‘Come on,’ he said eventually, letting go with a sly grin. ‘Let’s go save what’s left of Cito.’

#MNP OC Marcus #MNP fallout 4 word prompts #fallout 4 #writing #prompt #longpost

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mvnros · 6 years ago

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munro d’eath | fuck a silver lining | tag dump.

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zachwinthrop · 7 years ago

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@alexandraburton-x

profligate syllables poured into diamond – adorned ears, palatial sepals corkscrewing into a mouth – watering simper as he urged her closer. ❝ that sounds tempting, but i’m not entirely sure the world is prepared for your sex tape debut. we’ll save that scandal for another day. ❞ the S C R U M P T I O U S bravura had been made available for his consumption, alexandra credulously overlooking the cloud of inebriated ( s o u l s ) that massed around them. she was drunk, but she couldn’t pin the blame upon any adeptly crafted elixir – she was intoxicated by the spotlight he’d provided her, indulging in her presence like the plump, ivory lines of cocaine he’d ingested as if she was all the H I G H he required. the possibility of her visage decorating the pages of hollywood’s gossip blogs hadn’t been even a glimmer in her thoughts, rather they were enraptured with ( r e s i s t a n c e ), attempting not to sweep him away into a desolate corner for a parisian reduplication. as his tongue rolled against the prurient swells of her neck, alex suspired softly; dark chocolate tresses floating behind her shoulders. his head tipped to her bust, swilling the tequila with repose before completing his performance tempting her lips with his as he removed the wedge of lime. she laughed, smoothing her fingers across the swell of her chest to remove the tacky remnants of the liquor. ryan’s remark resonated within her – it was like 2014, but there was something D I S P A R A T E about it. maybe it was because they were genuinely happy – a lightness devouring the air, but only for a moment before its tonnage amplified and came crashing down on their shoulders like shards of broken glass. ( f a i t h ) emerged from the deluge of bodies and for some particular, perverse reason, alexandra offered her a wicked grin. so this it what it feels like to be on the other side. for once, it wasn’t her that abolished his fun. & if it was a spectacle she desired, the fiendish brunette would happily deliver. ❝ the lounge, ❞ she spoke over top of her, knitting impeccably groomed brows as she glimpsed toward zach. ❝ she was there that night? hm, ❞ she continued with a gentle purse of her lips before diverting her attention to his addled girlfriend. ❝ i must have missed that detail. ❞ ale’s gilded halos piqued, however, when presented with what she presumed was meant to be rhetorical question. she became S T A R L E S S, situating herself comfortably upon the booth before gently clearing her throat. ❝ i would be happy to enlighten you on that very E X A C T moment, ( h o p e ). you see, i was out this afternoon when i stumbled upon this dress, ❞ she insisted, careening her head to appraise her ensemble. alex tucked her fingers beneath her breasts, pleased with their appearance. ❝ and i just had to try it on. it looked absolutely incredible. my ass looked phenomenal & i had legs for days, ❞ she boasted, returning her gaze to faith. ❝ and i thought to myself, oh my god. you know who would appreciate this dress? zach would. and wearing it to his birthday party was too good of an occasion to pass up. the best part is, i was right. he hasn’t been able to keep his hands or his eyes off me this entire time. i had no idea you were here. i’m sorry that i totally forgot about your existence, but it looks like zach owes you an apology as well, because it seems he forgot too. ❞ ale lowered her stygian tinctures, her lips twitching as she concluded, ❝ i get it. it’s got to be difficult being in love with someone who doesn’t love you back. and i don’t blame you for being so bitter, but please, take it from someone who knows him better than anyone else – he moves fast. you’ve gotta keep your eye on him. ❞

zachariah had diminished to the bare ( b o n e s ) of himself; liquor and narcotics peeling back layer after layer until all that remained was a debauched, raucous REPROBATE of a creature sprawled upon a lounge seat as though there were no other bodies to accommodate for. a snort urged from his throat, rippling raw sepals. he leered to ryan, nudging him. ❝ did she just call her hope? ❞ a deriding wheeze emitted from his chest. he fell over himself, head approaching his knees, laughing carelessly as though he wasn’t teetering at the hilt of a very dangerous cliff; his career and reputation awaiting to obliterate at the bottom. he listened, ( as best he could ), to alexandra’s comandeering monologue, dripping from her tongue like a poison syrup. ryan whispered to him: ❝ is this like, really bad? or is it really bad? ❞ zach’s palm boisterously walloped ryan’s chest. ❝ noooo. ❞ he shook his head, palms urging into leather to right his spine. faith’s jaw slackened, eyeliner - ringed sapphires glinting helplessly. ❝ who the FUCK do you think you are? ❞ several spectators arced inward, tightening the circle herding the expensive huddle at the centre. ❝ aren’t you embarrassed, being a side - piece? why are you throwing that in my face like it’s something to be proud of? nobody knows who you are. this is - this is pathetic. ❞ she held her hands out either side of her head like a forfeit, a white flag. she looked to zach; desperate, lashed and bleeding. misted eyes focus dizzily upon her. ❝ zach?! ❞ her voice was shrill, pleading with him to say something. to jump to her rescue and save her from the public humiliation she was drowning in. ryan nudged him. ❝ what? ❞ zach droned, erecting his posture. he laughed, eyes flitting between bystanders. ❝ what?! ❞ he laughed again, louder, reaching for a bottle. ❝ i mean, alex was right. she looks really fucking good in that dress. ❞ something tinged the locked corners of his mind. he should stand assuredly on faith’s side to avoid the headlines, but he R E A L L Y didn’t want to sour his relationship with alex by doing so. but picking alex, publicly, could ruin everything. it could ruin him, his reputation, his career, his sanity. so he picked neither. zach stood unsteadily on his feet, arm unfurled, fingers twining through that of an instagram model he was sure he’d allowed to give him head at some point in the past. ❝ but so does she. and it’s my birthday, so if you’ll excuse me... ❞ he grinned sheepishly, leading the girl away with a throng of inebriated friends and groupies alike in tow.

#gif chat

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alexandraburton-x · 7 years ago

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@zachwinthrop

a blush muscle purled to taste salted air, simpered over his lips. there were a thousand rapacious orbs upon him, a thousand loose lips and iphone cameras to divulge the torrid facts to the press. but she consumed him, owned him right down to the steel crux. he didn’t care. he didn’t care about a single thing but the inebriating siren before him. his arm pulled on her, urging her spine to arc toward him. ❝ bummer … why, you wanna put on a show? you said it yourself. i’m f u c k i n g high. i don’t care. i’d put you down in front of everyone if you asked me to, princess. ❞ his timbre had descended into something of a low growl, the subdued notes of yearning sharpening the edges. zach grinned, looming over her, his heart getting confused with his head getting confused with the twitch below the belt as she snaked a palm between his thighs. alexandra decorated her chest with treats. he almost groaned, eyes rolling back into his head. ❝ i ever tell you you’re the fucking best? ❞ he mumbled, the tip of his tongue rolling over the trail of salt on her neck. her skin seethed beneath him. he flattened the muscle over the hook of her throat, travelling to her lobe, latching swollen sepals around the skin before pulling away to a sweet pop. wide palms scored her torso, flaring over the rounds of her chest to pluck the shot glass from between buxom mounds. he tossed back the liquor, face twitching gleefully as it hit his throat, then he HASPED the nape of her neck in his hand to draw the lime from her lips with his. a roar erupted around them, each crowd he centred himself amongst praising him as though every new act he performed had out - done the last. zach laughed, plucking the slice from his mouth. ❝ okay. what the fuck is going on? ❞ ryan half - whooped, a firm hand walloping against zach’s shoulder. zach lurched forward, grinning. ❝ i swear on my fucking life i just experienced dejavu. it’s like 2014 all over again. ❞ he leaned across to alex, pushing her hair behind her ear. ❝ except you’re not little red anymore. ❞ zach leered over her, looping her middle between his arms. ❝ come on, baby. you’re really not drinking with me? ❞ he pouted, drawing closer, lips teeming the shell of her ear. ❝ it’s my fucking birthday, ❞ he whispered giddily, alcohol singing his breath. he stuttered backward, a smear of blonde infecting the blear of lights cascading his vision. zach blinked, his back impelling into the leather lounge chair. it took him a moment to realise he’d been shoved, and yet another moment to realise it was faith that’d shoved him. he laughed, head falling back onto the couch. ❝ you must be fucking joking, zach? ❞ his neck craned, creaking as he righted himself. her eyeliner smudged softly beneath doe - eyes, gold - spun tresses askew. ❝ oh dear. are you drunk? ❞ she looked like she wanted to spit in his face. ryan nudged his shoulder. zach looked to him, keeling at the waist trying to whisper. ❝ who d’you think would win in a fight? ❞ zach slurred. ryan snorted, legs kicking. ❝are you joking, man? alex. through and through. ❞ a callow whine seethed through faith’s teeth. ❝ what are you doing? are you being serious? and you - ❞ she redirected to alex. zach and ryan simultaneously grimaced. bad move. ❝ what the fuck do you think you’re doing here? seriously? after what happened at the lounge, at what point did you think to yourself, ‘do you know what would be a clever idea? coming to zach’s fucking birthday party’? ❞ zach jeered involuntarily. ❝ my fucking birthday party! it’s my fucking birthday, ryan. ❞ he cackled, jabbing an elbow into his friends’ ribs.

#( ! ░ — interaction.

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alexandraburton-x · 7 years ago

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@zachwinthrop incandescent headlights illuminated the exorbitant gate to her hollywood hills condominium, the antiquated taxi S A L U T E D by a muscled security guard. alex lowered the tinctured window, procuring her quintessential smile to him as they were granted entry to her ostentatious dwelling. the driver browsed his rear view mirror, his clotted brows furrowing in pother. ❝ uh, is all of this yours? ❞ she gathered her belongings; chloe clutch seamed beneath her arm, jimmy choos pinched between her manicured fingers. gilt halos consumed the palatial shanty, nodding her head daintily in response to his inquiry. ❝ yeah, it is. i’m a lucky girl, i suppose, ❞ she spilled, coaxing the thorny words down the back of her sapless throat. ❝ i’d say. you have a wonderful night, miss, ❞ he mumbled, fixedly watchful as she crawled out of the backseat. ❝ thank you. ❞ the diminutive princess sauntered up the driveway, her head depressed & disgraced hues regarding the pristine pavement to her palace. to many, alex was quite well – off, fortunate to live an immoderate lifestyle and she was. she wasn’t selfish or unappreciative by any stretch of the imagination. following the M A S S A C R E that occurred in her penthouse apartment, she was met with affinity from her absent father. somehow, he blamed her low – grade selection in boyfriend on himself. he had a daughter with caustic daddy issues. his way of rectifying the matter? offering her anything her godforsaken heart desired, however, alex didn’t ask for a million dollar home perched upon the los angeles hills. she wanted comfort and affection from the only other man she had ever loved, but his devotion was elsewhere – wrapped around the finger of his twenty – five year old girlfriend in the form of a three karat Harry Winston diamond. he wanted to pass hisunhinged daughter onto someone else rather than to truly accept responsibility for his shortcomings. so, he hired rob, the chummy security guard that patrolled her every move. clearly, her father didn’t think her capable of protecting herself, & perhaps he was right. she certainly didn’t recognize the C A U T I O N signs forewarning her of zach winthrop’s hysterical complex. instead, she was harrowed by him and made extant from the perpetual pain he’d inflicted upon her – physically, emotionally. somehow, after three placid years, the universe decided to lavish her with charmingly wrapped gift. it appeared as everything she ever wanted and she tore into it like a brand new pair of christian louboutins, but she wasdisillusioned to discover the gift had been mislabeled – intended for faith coleman. she wouldn’t fight for him either. she’d relinquished her crusade the last time he put his fist near her, crushing whatever twined fairytale she’d envisioned for the two of them. alex opened the front door, tossing her things onto the marble flooring. she haled her lusterless silhouette up the acrylic staircase and to her bedroom. there was no need for lights, the city skyline cast technicolor auroas – her room crowned by nothing but glass. she crawled into the bed, her satin ensemble still gracing her tenement; far too wasted to remove. she smoothed her fingers over the screen of her phone, nimble pads manipulating the keypad to implement a simple google search. zach winthrop + faith coleman. a slew of images decorated her display. it must be nice not to be the secret, to openly flaunt your affections. alex powered down the device, tucking her brumal figure beneath an airy duvet. she was being futile and doltish. she had what she always wanted, someone who truly appreciated her & allowed the whole world to see it. why was she envious of what zach had? because it wasn’t with her and it never would be. she should’ve been pouring molten tears, doubled over in agony, but she felt absolutely nothing. she’d heard somewhere, something – a quote. we eventually go numb because you can’t break a heart that’s already been broken. maybe it was true after all. maybe she’d never actually recovered, just concealed and moved on to something else – S O M E O N Eelse. her eyes grew laden, her breathing restful. nothing mattered, not even in her dreams. ——– ♛ four days later. the luscious brunette extoled her figure, her figure encased in a coal colored, mini dress that certainly sufficed as a second skin. a melody leaked from the speakers in her boudoir, the rose P O U R I N G from bottle to flute, courtesy of her friend nakita. ❝ we need to go, ale. you’ve tried on about fifty dresses and this party is so low – key. besides, it’s not like you have anyone to impress. asher’s still in new york. ❞ alex chuckled, lifting the glass toward her sumptuous pout to expend its contents. ❝ okay, fair enough. after the week i had, i clearly always have someone to impress. ❞ her bare feet caromed the dark, cherry wood floors as she corralled her goods for the evening. ❝ are you going to tell asher about any of that, or what? you know how zach is. he can be a bit overzealous, ❞ nakita averred, mounting her petite chassis to the rug beneath her. ❝ there’s nothing to tell. i think it’s pretty clear we’re both trying to move on from the nightmare that was our relationship. he’s happy & so am i. ❞ those words didn’t taste as C L O Y I N G as she had imagined. in fact, they were quite sour and her visage facilely depicted her discomfort. ❝ i just want to go, hang out, and pretend the entire thing ever happened. can we do that? ❞ she slipped her feet into old skool vans, her head careening toward the bedroom door. ❝ but you’re going to have to remind me. where the hell are we going again? ❞ alex queried as the two sauntered from her room and down the staircase. ❝ it’s a friend of mine. he dances at the studio. he’s actually incredible and has choreographed for some big names. you’ll love him. ❞ she exhaled softly, endowing herself with the energy she’d require to make it through the night. alex and nakita tucked into a white mercedes g-class suv before winding down the thruway to their destination – a casual, l.a. house party, the perfect place to romp.

#( ! ░ — interaction.

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