#OC: Murk Mathis

[home-on-the-wastes]

Hell of a Ride (3/?)

When someone finally makes it through the Gauntlet, Gage's relieved that they might finally have a candidate for Overboss--until he sees that the contender's just a kid. Still, she's the first who's gotten this far in a long time, so maybe there's some merit to her skills, and would be a good fit for the role after all. Besides, kids can be bossed around, right? See Part 1 for additional tags. Part 1 // 2 // 3

In the past, Gage worked with shittier circumstances. Too many came to mind if he thought too hard about it, and while they were nice reminders that this wasn’t the worst-case scenario, it didn’t mean he was happy with what he had to work with.

Most dumb kids excited to join up with them didn’t last long, or were shoved to the lowest ranks of one of the gangs. For the few who were duped into going through the Gauntlet didn’t make it far, with the last one only making it as far as the access tunnels. If Gage had gotten an actual fuckin’ adult to be the new Overboss, like he had planned for, he would have told the new guy to take some time, wander around, and get a feel of the place before they got down to business. It would be a way to show that the new boss had some actual agency, and that Gage wasn’t just in the background, pulling the strings. He wasn’t stupid–he heard how a lot of folks talked when they thought he wasn’t listening.

A kid—okay, technically a teenager—was a possibility he hadn’t even considered. The gangs didn’t need another Colter, or some kind of wuss without a backbone. They needed someone strong and tough as nails, but also had a delicate touch to deal with the fragile situation they were in. In Gage’s experience, most kids were unpredictable. Too many flipped him the bird and ran off to do something half-cocked, only to get shot up, blown up, or chewed up by ghouls.

This kid could go off and do her own thing, listen to no one, and fuck everything Gage’s been working towards in a way no one could predict. The other gang leaders could worm their way into the kid’s good graces. The kid could kill herself when he wasn’t looking; there were plenty of guns, a shitload of ammunition. She could try and kill him, when his back was turned or while he slept. Maybe even in broad daylight, just try and take a shot at him.

But Gage was getting ahead of himself.

He led the kid towards Fizztop Grille after a bit of coaxing and promises to be fed, showered, and find a clean change of clothes. Word spread fast through Nuka-Town and the raiders who didn’t see the fight gave them a wide berth. No one wanted to approach while she was drenched in blood, soot, and probably giving off the faintest traces of radiation thanks to the fusion core explosion.

And the kid was so damn quiet. When she wasn’t looking around at the place, taking it all in, she went back to staring at the ground and worrying her busted lip. She jumped a little when they took the lift up to the Grille itself, and hesitated before stepping onto the safety of the solid patio. Gage gestured towards the double doors towards the workshop.

“Clean up and I’ll meet you here, on the patio. There’s a shower in there.”

The kid’s gaze trailed back to the lift, and then to the heavy double doors.

“No funny business. Got it?”

She nodded, and Gage left her standing by herself. She eventually let herself in, bringing her bag inside with her, and left Gage alone with his thoughts.

To prevent overthinking, Gage tried to settle in on the patio, sitting on the sofa near the coffee table. He helped himself to a Nuka Cola and some chips, left on the table by Colter that morning. Gage spent more time than he would have liked in the Grille over the past few months, trying to get Colter to get his shit together. Lots of time fantasizing how easy it’d be to kill the fucker in his sleep, mourning the opportunity they could’ve had if Colter had just upheld his end of the deal, plotting the gangs’ next steps. 

Gage jumped when the shower valve squealed in the distance. The familiar thumps of old pipes trying to ferry water to the bathroom sounded like heavy boots or power armor clomping against tile.

Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to have the new Overboss shack up in Colter’s old pad.

No, he thought, Colter’s a bloody mess in the Gauntlet now. He ain’t comin’ back.

To emphasize that thought, Gage put his muddied boots on the coffee table. He didn’t have to worry about it anymore. He could disrespect the guy all he wanted now.

When the door swung open, he instinctively put his feet back on the ground.

The kid surveyed the patio cautiously, until she spotted him. The shower had done her some good, even if she was still staring at him with the same amount of trepidation as before. The beginnings of bruises were more visible now with the blood washed off. The kid’s nose was definitely busted and her lip would probably swell up like a balloon if she didn’t stab herself with a stimpack. As she made her way toward him, Gage spied spots she missed in her washdown��blood under the fingernails, flecks near her ears and the bruises that were gonna hurt like hell. She had also assembled a new look from what was from Colter’s stuff and her own belongings. Nothing fit right; she haphazardly tucked a faded Nuka-World t-shirt into a pair of pants from some Gunner fatigues, and the cuffs of the pants were tucked into a pair of combat boots one size too big. She tucked her damp hair underneath a well-worn beanie. The belt—probably her own, he guessed by the make—was working overtime, holding the ensemble together and serving as a holster for her machete.

She looked so small.

Doesn’t matter, he thought. The plan’ll still work.

“Welcome home, boss. The digs are yours, now–hope you like the new look.”

She joined him at the coffee table, not sitting down, choosing to hug the wall. “It’s…something.”

She was being too damn polite. Where was that bite, that vigor, from the Gauntlet? There was no way she washed it all down the drain. Gage shrugged. “Colter had some peculiar tastes. But what about this view, huh?”

The kid looked at the horizon, and then down, watching the raiders. A few were in the pool below, sifting through the water for random junk and caps. Noises and music drifted up from the Nuka-Cade and the market. There was occasional arguing, gunfire. Someone was frying up a steak nearby. Then the kid shrugged, folded her arms on the windowsill, and leaned on the glass.

She was stupid, trusting, or both. It’d be easy for someone to run over, push her over the edge, watch her tumble to the ground. He’d have to work on that.

“All of this is yours. See, now that you’re in charge–”

“Is this how y’all usually pick leaders? Have someone come along, kill the old one, then crown the new one the winner?”

There it was. Gage didn’t know to smile or scowl. “Listen, our former Overboss was a fuckin’ asshole. That’s me being nice. So check your fuckin’ attitude.”

The kid started chewing on her thumbnail. After a second of grinding her teeth and systematically trimming a split nail, she asked, “Why should I? I know I’m not your first choice, not for whatever the fuck’s going on with this.”

“Way I see it, surviving the Gauntlet means you got what it takes—or at least the potential. We need someone who can get shit done, make real progress. Your show, back there? That was progress.”

“I don’t want any of this.” She spat out the nail, and gestured toward the view. Her thumb was bleeding. Her free hand settled on the machete hilt. “None of it.”

Sneering, Gage rolled his eye and stood up. He towered over her now and the threat was clear; she flinched away and curled in on herself, but didn’t step away. “Don’t be a little shit. You try to leave now and this ain’t gonna go so well, you know that.”

The kid’s eyes flickered to him, and then to the gun at his waist, and then back again. Gage was suddenly aware of a lot more—how his own weapon sat at his belt, how she shifted to move and crack her neck as she stood straighter. The kid moved slow and cautious, trying not to spook him.

He wondered what the kid was thinking, and then imagined it: the kid lunging, trying to go for the gun—or grabbing her machete to stab him and make a run for it. He could easily fend her off, already having size and strength to his advantage. But she moved quickly against Colter, and had a creative streak. Maybe she had something more dangerous hidden in those pockets, or down her boot. Still–what got Colter killed was her element of surprise, his overconfidence, and Gage’s help. She had none of that here.

They held each other’s gaze, until the kid relented and looked away.

“If it’s so great,” she ventured, “then why don’t you just do it? Bet you’d be just fine.”

Gage laughed, and shook his head. “Fuck, no. I’m more of a behind-the-scenes guy. Besides, if I was in charge, then I’d have no need for you, get me? Pretty sure you don’t wanna  become your own stain on the pavement.”

He’d prefer to not throw her out the window. It’d put a real damper on his day, especially after putting in so much work. Gage let the kid think about it, mull over the threat, and like magic, she sighed. Sniffled, too, but it seemed like it was more of a clearing the sinuses sniff, than a crying one.

“Then what’s your great plan?”

“First, we gotta trust each other. That means no stupid shit, no running off your mouth. If we play our cards right, then neither of us will have to worry about a damn thing ever again—but for now, we’re gonna tip-toe around this powder keg until everything settles and we’re back in control. When you’re back in control.”

“Sounds like a tall order. Raiders don’t like taking orders.”

Gage tilted his head, giving her a once-over. “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience. You don’t strike me as the raidin’ type, kid–but I guess it explains your little psychopathic episode.”

The kid turned red, glaring at him like she hoped he would explode. “I’m not a raider. I just said I knew how they work.”

“I didn’t say you were, but you’re getting real defensive about it.”

“I’m not a raider.”

Irritating the kid hadn’t been on the agenda, but it was amusing. Gage was relieved that the bite was still there, that it wasn’t just a fight thing.

“Didn’t peg you for a liar, either–guess you’re full of surprises.”

The kid grit her teeth. “I’m not lying. I said I wasn’t a raider—I was just trying to do the right thing…” She trailed off and looked at the ground, worrying that busted lip again. It split open, and blood seeped down her chin. She mumbled something that sounded like fucking bullshit, but Gage wouldn’t have staked his life on it. The picture he was shaping up in his mind made him guess that she was stubborn, immature, but had some sense—otherwise she wouldn’t have lasted this long. In the wrong hands, it was a dangerous combination.

Still, he could get on her good side. He took a small step towards her, and lowered his voice like he was trying to calm down a spooked mutt. All he was missing was the raised hand with a piece of jerky in it.

“Look. I know how these gangs operate. I’ve been dealing with their bullshit for years. And I’ll help you, okay? I got skills—I’m a hell of a good shot, so you’ve got someone watching your back. You don’t have to trust any of ‘em—hell, you definitely don’t have to like ‘em. But you need them to respect you, so they’ll fall in line.” Gage let that sink in for a second. Then, he added, “Besides, technically you’re already the new Overboss. That’s half the work right there. We’re gonna meet with the leaders, and show them you’re not someone they can fuck with. But keep in mind—the moment they smell blood, they’ll tear you apart. So, you want to get through this alive? Then you better listen to me.”

The kid scowled again, chewing on another fingernail. They’d have to work on that, too. Hesitantly, she asked, “I help you figure this shit out, as much as I can. After that—can I leave?”

“Kid, I don’t give a flying fuck what you do after.” Gage supposed it was enough to work with. A risk, but she just had to last long enough until someone better came along, or she came around to the lifestyle. Anything could happen, now that Colter was gone.

“We’ll see. But you do as I say first, then we’ll discuss your…retirement. That’s as good as I can offer, kid.”

She thought about it. A bit too long, honestly, but then she drew her hand away from her mouth.

“Murk.” She shifted, holding out the bloodied hand, an attempt at civility. “Murk Mathis. Not kid.”

Gage didn’t know if she wanted a handshake, or what. He shook his head. “Nah. You’re Overboss Mathis. Get out of here with that shit.” He gestured toward the lift. “Better to talk to the leaders now, while your kill of Colter’s still fresh."

In an obvious effort to get away from him, Murk hurried to the lift. She turned pale as it swayed in the wind, grabbing at the side so she wouldn't tumble over. Gage followed, hand hovering over the lift button.

"Oh, and boss?"

Managing to tear her gaze from the railing and her hands, she looked over at him.

"Don't fuck it up."

Then, he punched the button and she descended to the ground below.

<< Previous Cross-posted on Archive of Our Own

Author's notes: I got a really kind comment on AO3 and decided that I could dust off some of the chapters I still had knocking about in my head.

[home-on-the-wastes]

Hell of a Ride (2/?)

When someone finally makes it through the Gauntlet, Gage's relieved that they might finally have a candidate for Overboss--until he sees that the contender's just a kid. Still, she's the first who's gotten this far in a long time, so maybe there's some merit to her skills, and would be a good fit for the role after all. Besides, kids can be bossed around, right? See Part 1 for additional tags. Part 1 // 2 // 3

Gage dragged himself to his feet to survey the damage. The corner of the arena was black, and near the center of it, what was left of Colter in his power armor. A piece of the oversized helmet was dented and cracked, embedded in the arena guard rail. 

Gage had to hand it to the kid—she at least put on a good show before she blew herself up. Took who she could down with her. If the groans and screams from the stands were any indication, Gage was sure she killed one or two of the gang members right up against the fence from the debris. Fucking idiots.

Then, in the smoldering wreckage, Gage spied some movement. Still on his back, Colter tried to roll over, get on his feet, and do something. Gage couldn’t tell if it was death throes or if he was still alive, just trapped in that stupid fucking power armor, burning up. If Colter survived this, he was gonna skin Gage alive for the Thirst Zapper stunt.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, something else moved.

It might have been a curse, or maybe it was just an unintelligible scream of rage and adrenaline. The kid jumped out of the wreckage, blackened and burning, and unloaded the remainder of the magazine into Colter’s face. The rattling of bullets against the ground punctuated her rage, and when the gun clicked and the ammo expended, she threw it aside, grabbed her machete, and kept chopping, screaming until her voice gave out and there was no way that Colter was alive anymore. With a final swing, arching blood across the arena floor, the kid stopped her bloody double tap as soon as she began it.

Her entire body heaving, she did a brief sweep of the crowd. Gage thought she would jump onto the fence and go mental, but she didn’t. As the seconds ticked by, her tense shoulders started to droop, little by little. She slowly started to lower her machete.

Everyone let out the breath they were holding. Finally, the kid looked at him, jaw set, spitting mad. A plan began to form.

Redeye’s voice crackled over the speakers. “Gage, what the hell just happened?”

He had to get it together, or all of this would be for nothing. Turning to the crowd, Gage shouted over the growing discontent. “You saw it–we all saw it! Colter’s dead.”

He could work with this. Gage grinned and waved a hand at the kid to present her. She spat a glob of blood onto the floor and what looked like a tooth.

“We’ve got ourselves a new Overboss.”

He heard the complaints, especially from the gang leaders. Worried all this talk would spook the new boss, Gage waved his hand and leaned closer to the microphone. “Hey, we talked about this. She survived the Gauntlet. She was smart enough to take my advice and strong enough to kill Colter. She’s what we need. So how about we show some new respect from our new leader.”

“Leader?” the kid asked. Her voice cracked, making it sound like a hiccup. Gage would be pissed if this psychopath started crying, so he waved her off discreetly and kept talking to the crowd.

“All right, all right, now get the hell out of here. I’ll show the new boss around.”

People would be talking about this fight for weeks. Gage eyed the leaders of each gang, talking with their seconds and amongst their crews. Sure, Mason looked mildly annoyed and Nisha was unreadable, but Mags and her brother looked mildly impressed, if not a bit curious.

Gage had to admit the kid had left a good impression. She was tougher than she looked.

Spookier, too. When Gage turned back to the door, she had moved to cracked glass, staring at him like she was out of a god damned horror story with blood dripping down her face. He couldn’t figure out if it was hers or Colter’s, so he decided it was better not to know.  He also opted to not open the door and hoped she wasn’t crazy enough to crawl through the broken windows.

“That went better than expected,” said Gage. “But you gotta listen real close, and you listen good. You just helped us complete a plan that’s been in motion for months.”

The kid’s pupils were starting to return to their normal size, contracting properly with the flashing lights. Gage went through the general overview of the place, the three gangs, how the whole place was just one short fuse from blowing sky high, and how she was going to help him smooth things out. As he explained the situation, he wondered how the kid was going to take it. She didn’t seem much different from the other teenagers who wandered too close to Nuka World and got caught up in one of the gangs, either as a new member or as a new victim. A few well-placed threats would probably make her complacent–at least, until Gage could figure out if she could actually stick around, or just be a stand-in until someone better showed up and crushed her in the Gauntlet.

“What if I don’t want to?” asked the kid.

“Well, you can try and make a break for it,” Gage replied, “where you become hunted by some of the crazier guys here, or you die somewhere out there between here and the Commonwealth. There’s no way in hell you’re gonna be able to get enough supplies to get there, and that transit ain’t running until we say it does.”

She nodded at this, shifting where she stood. Weighing her odds, probably. “Right.”

“And you’re gonna do what I say if you want to stay alive. Got it?”

She nodded again, a little smaller.

“Stand up straight. You just killed the Overboss—now act like it.”

“Fuck you,” she said again, but she stood tall and squared her shoulders.

“Good. You got a little bite. You’re going to need it.”

<< Previous | Next >> Cross-posted on Archive of Our Own

Author's notes: I always liked the concept of the Nuka-World DLC, but never liked how it was handled in canon. My Sole Survivor, Tallahassee, would never have wandered that way due to her own quests and personal issues, but I didn't want to rule out the entire DLC.

However, my Fallout 4 OC, Murk Mathis, would wander there--especially after she gets duped by Harvey at the Nuka-World transit center. Her father's raider background is a bone of contention for her and part of her overall character development in the story arch of my mind for her. Tallahassee shows up later, of course, but for now, I always wanted to get this piece of the story out onto paper.

[home-on-the-wastes]

Characters react to…the Vault-Tec rep! 📋 ✏️

Shout out to my partner who asked this question; I had a lot to say about it.

Harper wouldn't really pay him much mind other than the fact that he's a pre-war ghoul. Maybe chat with him about having experience that didn't really apply to the Wasteland or the Commonwealth (Harper was originally penned to be the vault's chaplain, and he has sales experience. Both feel pretty useless in the Capital Wastes and the Commonwealth, respectively).

Pen just treats him like some guy! She’s less about bonding over the past and more about just hearing his stories. Pen's main thing is listening to folks and empathizing with them, and she has experience with really old ghouls due to Raul (and, to an extent, Dean). She’d buy him a drink, probably cheer him up, and not leave until he was laughing and in higher spirits.

Murk finds him boring and unrelatable--not in a mean way but in an adult that a teenager has no interest in being chummy with. She does feel a little bad about his circumstance, but he's still alive, so what's the problem? Sir, it was two hundred and ten years ago, move on. Find a therapist. C'mon, dude, we all have problems.

Tallahassee, God, she doesn’t know what to do or say. She’s...distant but still polite, especially since he clocks on who she is immediately. She feels awful that she survived and he became a ghoul, a reminder that despite all the shit that she's going through, others had it worse when the bombs fell. It wouldn't be until much later that she'd start interacting with him properly. She'd still keep him at arm's length but try to help him. After all, if it wasn't for his insistence about getting her family signed up for the vault, she wouldn't even be here.

Nate hears about him beforehand, sidles up to him, and goes, “Sir, have I got an opportunity for you." He tries to help this guy. He's very task-oriented, and approaches the problem like, "Okay you're depressed? Let's get you a job! Sales experience, you say? How about you set up a store!" He comes back and checks in on him periodically, just to see how he's doing. Is definitely on a first-name basis with the Vault-Tec rep.

[home-on-the-wastes]

[14] What does it take to make them laugh, and what does their laugh sound like?

This one wound up being a bit longer than I expected, so I put it under the cut! Full cast of characters includes Harper, Pen, Tallahassee, Murk, and Nate.

Original Prompt List: 60 OC Questions

Harper

Her laughter is all in the nose–her nostrils flare up and her laughter is usually a soft exhale or a “Hee” with a bemused smile. If she’s caught in a good mood, she sometimes snickers or giggles, but with a quiet, almost school-girl-like quality. She definitely has shaking shoulders, regardless of what type of laugh it is, and isn’t opposed to occasionally going, “Ha!” loudly if something catches her off guard and it’s the only way she can respond before she regains her composure. She often laughs at the following:

False flattery; especially when she knows people are trying to put the moves on her or are trying to be overly polite because they’re uncomfortable. It’s definitely a polite laugh, but then it can turn condescending.

Dark humor; this only works with people she feels safe with, like Charon and Butch. Any other dark humor is met with a scowl. The best way to get the most genuine laugh from her.

Kid jokes/humor; she has to be in the right mood, but when kids show up with the most serious attempt to make her laugh, she finds it delightful–and also knows it’s a confidence booster for the kids if they get her to laugh.

Pen

Her laughter is a combination of physicality and sounds–she wheezes and loses her voice, and often claps if the situation’s appropriate. She’s also a full body laugher, often moving around while she does a combination of the first two traits. Pen’s also the type of person who will repeat bits of the joke that she likes to herself later, usually resulting in her starting to try and contain her giggles and chortles. It doesn’t have to be immediately after the joke–it could be hours, or even days later. She usually laughs at the following:

Pratfalls; both hers and others. Pen suffers with balance issues and being clumsy as hell can be embarrassing, so she’s gotten good at laughing at herself when she slips or runs into something unexpectedly. She laughs at others, too, to try and lighten the mood, and go to help them.

Deadpan delivery; the actual subject material varies wildly. It’s less about what’s being said, but how it’s said. She’ll laugh at things that aren’t even supposed to be funny, and it sometimes drives Boone crazy. However, if it’s meant to be a joke or a quip, that will just make Pen laugh harder.

Happy coincidences; the little things in life, like if she gets the last Sunset Sarsaparilla or if she nearly falls but gets caught by her messenger bag strap at the last minute on some rubble. She relishes in her luck and finds joy in it, and joy leads to laughter for her.

Tallahassee

Her laughter is usually a quiet, well-contained chuckle, or a singular “heh,” or “ha.” If you really get her to laugh, it will come out as more of a sensible laugh or chuckle. Her dignified laugh is quickly credited to her being from pre-war times. She actually trained herself to laugh like this to impress her in-laws and her more well-off coworkers when she was younger. She’s almost embarrassed about her laugh, and will hide her mouth and smile when laughing unless she feels like she’s in safe company. She laughs at the following:

False assumptions and overconfidence; this rolls over from her time as a lawyer, and could be described as courtroom humor. When someone says something completely wrong with so much confidence, Tallahassee will let out a disbelieving laugh or chuckle, regardless whether the person is serious or just trying to be silly.

Genuine compliments; these take her by surprise and she often can’t help but let out another surprised laugh. It’s usually more of a laugher of shock or delight than laughter directed at the person, but it can be off putting. She’s aware and tries to refrain from doing so.

Relief; once a crisis has passed, Tallahassee is the kind of person who sits down and starts laughing at her good (or bad) fortune. This is the rarest and most genuine laugh from Tallahassee. She feels like she has to laugh or she would start crying instead, so sometimes a companion will find her sitting on a rock and letting out quiet, exhausted chuckles.

Murk

Surprisingly, Murk doesn’t really have a laugh! She’s more of a silent laugher, and instead grins and shows the physicalities of laughter than actually making any noise. If a noise is made, it’s usually a snort or a sharp inhale of breath before the silent laughter kicks in and she’s indisposed until the laughing passes. She isn’t opposed to going, “Ha!” extremely loudly when it’s appropriate, but that’s more of a conscious decision than a gut reaction. She laughs at the following:

Anger; Murk grew up in a place where people were angry all the time, and she found it easier to laugh at their anger than get frightened or upset. She also genuinely finds it funny when people pull strange expressions or turn different colors when they get angry enough to yell or scream at someone, even if it’s her!

Silly animals; absolutely loses her mind when animals do silly tricks or make odd expressions. Dogmeat is a surefire way to make Murk laugh with his tricks. When she’s out investigating the wildlife, it’s easy to find her if she finds something odd. One time Murk found a brahmin wearing a mirelurk hatching as a hat because it got stuck there and she hasn’t been able to think about it without laughing since.

Others’ laughter; Murk is a social laugher. If other people are laughing about something, she instinctively joins in even if she’s not sure what the joke is. She may not even find it funny, but blending in can be key to survival, so if someone is laughing at something and expects her to, Murk will start laughing immediately. 

Nate

Nate has a proper, sensible chuckle most of the time, like the kind that a movie star would use on the red carpet while being interviewed. However, if you catch him by surprise and get a genuine laugh, Nate will let out a full body laugh, throwing his head back and clutching at his chest like he can’t breathe as he guffaws for a few moments. If you manage to get the second laugh out of him, he can have trouble reigning it in, and may laugh on and off for the next few minutes. Sometimes he’ll go, “Whew!” after he’s done laughing, and might even have watery eyes if he laughed long enough. He laughs at the following:

Silly signs/accidental word play; Nate’s the kind of guy that when traveling, he reads dilapidated or worn out signs out loud if it’s something silly or funny. He found a drive through theater that said ‘Die Thru’ that was infested with feral ghouls, and he almost got torn to shreds because he had trouble containing his laughter. Despite the harrowing experience, the memory still brings him joy, and he definitely points out the signs to other companions to share a laugh.

Over-the-top reactions; This is a skill that Nate uses to make other people laugh, especially kids and teenagers who are upset. However, sometimes he’ll break character and start making himself laugh–and that can make others laugh too, more than his initial bit. Their laughter makes him laugh harder at the absurdity of it all.

Non-violent physical comedy. Silly faces, comedy routines that require a lot of movement, or clowns, make Nate laugh like he’s a kid again. He’s particularly interested in the concept of mimes–he found a book on them once, and would like to meet someone that still practices the lost art. He prefers the type of physical comedy that doesn’t get people hurt–pratfalls and slapstick make him nervous.

[home-on-the-wastes]

The gang's take on...

Alcohol and Chems 🍺💊

Tallahassee; Only occasionally drinks, even before the war. Her family has a history of addiction, and she’s not in a hurry to get addicted to something when it feels like the entire world’s trying to kill her. Tallahassee only drinks in areas she considers “safe,” like Diamond City, Goodneighbor, or the Castle post-reclamation. When she does drink, she mainly sticks to beer and wine. Only drinks whiskey when she’s stressed, it’s a habit she picked up when she was younger. Doesn’t use chems beyond stim-packs due to her husband’s experiences with them and the various cases she handled when she was a lawyer that involved them. Prefers to stay sharp and keep her wits about her, even if some of the chems could help sharpen those wits.

Harper; Her dad was a doctor, so you know she’s hesitant about taking chems and drinking when she first leaves the vault. She loosens up a bit over time and doesn’t mind alcohol one bit, even though she doesn’t have a great tolerance for it. A lot of fun at parties once she loosens up a bit, where alcohol is usually required. The only chems she takes beyond the basic stim-packs are orange mentats, and that’s when she’s on a stakeout or out hunting. They help keep her focused and sharp and don’t have addictive properties, so she has no issues going through an entire pack on long stake-outs. A strong believer in liquid courage.

Murk; Has experimented as an average teenager does but discovered that she doesn’t like the taste of alcohol unless it’s added with something like a Nuka Cola, and she hates the crash after most chems. Primarily uses berry mentats for studies (she likes the taste), Med-X for experiments or right after a battle (she has a low pain tolerance), and isn’t opposed to a puff of Jet when really stressed. Will not use Psycho except in life-or-death situations. The last time she was on it, she had a bad time and isn’t in a hurry to repeat it. Always carries at least one of each chem, though, for others. She also has a small stash of Addictol, since she’s paranoid she’ll get hooked and become a junkie.

Nate; Is a social drinker and loves chatting with folks after he has a beer or two. Made it his life goal to try all the different booze of the Commonwealth, though, so he’s excited when he finds a new bottle of something he hasn’t tried before. Mainly sticks to Buffout and Jet when it comes to chems; Buffout helps him with strength and endurance when he’s helping build things in settlements, and Jet’s always helpful in a fight. Stays away from Psycho, stating he had a bad reaction to it, but will use it if a fight gets tough. Has gotten addicted to chems once or twice but relies on good detox plans and does his best to monitor himself for symptoms. He can’t help folks if he’s barfing up his guts in the woods somewhere.

Pen; Takes ALL the chems, and drinks a fair amount of alcohol. No one knows how she’s still alive. She’s been addicted to every chem at once, detoxed, and then did it again. It drives her family insane because despite being a junkie, she operates roughly the same sober as she does intoxicated. Even Pen’s not sure how she’s still alive after all the stuff her body’s been through, self-afflicted or otherwise. Chalks it up to sheer determination, but it even gives the scientists at Big MT pause. More tests are needed, but ironically, Pen’s afraid of needles not held by her. Believes she’s supporting the Fixer economy in the Mojave Wasteland.

[home-on-the-wastes]

Hell of a Ride (1/?)

When someone finally makes it through the Gauntlet, Gage's relieved that they might finally have a candidate for Overboss--until he sees that the contender's just a kid. Still, she's the first who's gotten this far in a long time, so maybe there's some merit to her skills, and would be a good fit for the role after all. Besides, kids can be bossed around, right? Characters: Porter Gage, Murk Mathis (Fallout 4 OC), Overboss Colter, Other Nuka-World residents Tags: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Nuka-World Amusement Park, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon Divergence, Swearing, Killing, Murder, Raiders, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Underage Drug Use Part 1 // 2 // 3

God fucking damnit.

It was a kid. Redeye had said the new vic was on the young side, but Gage wasn’t expecting a teenager. A scrawny, wiry thing in armor that had been looted from corpses and didn’t fit right. Her gear was a hodgepodge of leather and old Gunner armor. She had gotten this far because of caution if Redeye’s commentary had a lick of truth, but slow and steady doesn’t help in a battle against Colter.

Still…maybe it was something.

Gage turned on the intercom. “All right, listen the hell up if you want to make it out alive—I’ve only got a minute.”

“Who’re you?”

The kid had already found the intercom. That was a good sign; taking initiative, or whatever.

“I’m the guy who’s gonna try and get you out of this alive, so listen up. The game’s rigged, kid—”

“It’s fucking rigged?!” echoed the kid. “Figures.”

“Shut up or I turn off this comm and you’re on your own.” Gage didn’t have the patience for this. It was easier when kids showed up wanting to be a raider, wanting to engross themselves in this life. But a kid surviving the Gauntlet was a whole different story–she couldn’t tap out or sneak off in the night. The gangs wanted a show. They wanted blood. “Now, you gonna be quiet?”

The kid said nothing.

“Good. Now, listen close.”

Gage outlined the plan. To the kid’s credit, she listened intently. She retrieved the Thirst Zapper as he instructed and paid attention to the plan. In fact, she got a little too quiet, and it made Gage nervous.

Funny, that stuff could still make him nervous.

“So, you got it?” he asked again.

“This isn’t going to work. Sure, water conducts electricity, but this is a toy.”

No shit, thought Gage. “Well, that’ll knock out his power armor long enough to let you get a few shots in. If you don’t believe me, then leave it, you little shit. You got a gun besides the zapper?”

The silence on the other end was, to say the least, concerning. Something clattered on the other end of the intercom. Then, the voice piped up again. “Yes?”

“Ammo?”

There was another clatter. “Yes.”

Gage shut his eye and took a deep breath. This kid’s fucked. “Well, good luck, kid. Try and die quick.”

“Fuck you.”

“Save that venom, you’re gonna need it.”

Colter shouted his usual pre-match bullshit, some of the crowd going wild. The others cheered but a few looked uncomfortable at the spectacle. The kid looked a little on the young side, still obviously a teenager, but since some of them were barely out of adolescence themselves. It could have easily been them in the arena with Colter instead of sitting in the audience as their fellow gang members lost it over the bloodshed.

Colter turned to the holding area, and Gage could hear the sneer of delight in Colter’s tone. “Don’t worry, kid–it’ll all be over soon.”

On cue, Gage hit the button to open the door. The crowd cheered.

Here we go, thought Gage. He saw the Thirst Zapper at the kid’s waist, tucked in a holster. Make it quick, make it painless. Make sure that kid doesn’t know what hit her.

The kid held onto her submachine gun, finger on the trigger, and charged. At least she was willing to give them a show.

The first part of the fight was painful. Coulter clipped the kid the moment she stepped into the arena. The kid hid behind the wreckage of ride pieces, occasionally taking pot shots but they rarely hit. It was obvious the kid couldn’t aim for shit–her hands shook so bad, it was comical. Colter chased her around like a loud cat toying with a mouse–shouting jeering remarks, but not taking her very seriously. The way everyone roared in the arena, Gage couldn’t help but feel bad. He didn’t want to even look, but he made himself watch anyway.

Then, a small explosion. A ripple of energy throughout the arena made Gage’s hair stand on end, his wrapped-up feet tingling as a current surged through the floor.

“What the–what is this?!” Colter demanded. 

Gage stepped sideways to see past Colter’s hulking frame. The sparking electricity that normally cloaked Colter was gone, leaving him standing there holding his combat rifle like a goddamned idiot. He let his guard drop, just for a moment, grabbing at his armor like that would fix it, and then–that’s when the kid struck.

Throwing the Thirst Zapper aside, she charged Colter, one hand around a beat-up submachine gun, the other outstretched to grab something. For a split second, Gage eyed something shiny at her waist–the machete hanging at her hip was just unnecessary weight in the fight of her life. That machete wasn’t going to do shit against the steel plating, and how the hell was she planning on picking up the Thirst Zapper in the chaos? The electricity would be shorted only for maybe ten, fifteen seconds tops. Not enough time to kill him. Maybe her plan was to give Colter lockjaw once she ran out of ammo if she lived that long.

The charging kid forced Colter to stumble back. They were so close to the glass barrier he could see her eyes past the smudged windows–dilated pupils so wide her eyes were almost black as a ghoul’s, fixed on Colter. Gage guessed she was hyped up on chems, and if her gritted teeth and foolhardy stupid charge were anything to go by, it was Psycho. Bloodthirsty, ready to give a show. 

The kid spared Gage the briefest glance and then—ran past Colter? Was her plan to try and get into the glass room, just charge and break the glass? No, not that—she reached out and grabbed some of the metal mesh on Colter’s armor. Used it to slide on the scuffed metal floors, relying on her weight to swing behind him. The metal cut into her fingers, blood bursting out in a gory pressure display, but she didn’t let go. She shoved her fist, still clutching the machine gun, towards the back of Colter’s power armor–

“Oh, fuck,” said Gage.

The fusion core popped out, wobbling loosely in its power chamber. The kid lost momentum and slid into an upturned bumper car with a crash but then dragged herself over it to give herself some cover.

“I’m gonna tear you apart!” roared Colter, unaware of the telltale signs of the power armor shutting down until it was too late. He made it about ninety degrees before it shut down entirely, and the fusion core started to slide to the ground. “You fucking bitch—”

She lined up the shot, which was impossible to miss, even with her shitty aim.

The resulting explosion threw everyone in the immediate area off their feet. Gage blacked out for a few seconds and came to with glass showering on top of him. He heard screams of panic and excitement once the ringing in his ears faded, noises of confusion, and the gang bosses tried to corral their people for a second as he collected himself.

Next >> Cross-posted on Archive of Our Own

[home-on-the-wastes]

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Harper Donovan (FO3 Lone Wanderer)

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