#ad victoriam bitches

[cobbleztone]

Im bored and made some Fallout memes (do note they are based on my opinion)

[the-dubstep-strawberry]

I’m not sure why Grandma Sparkle is on this list. She’s a trader in Fallout 3 and if the Regulators/bounty hunters come around asking about a “troublemaker/do-gooder” fitting your description, she tells them she didn’t see shit, so she’s okay in my book.

Myron can perish though, he knows what he fucking did. Honorary mention to that totalitarian jerkwad Alphonse Almodovar, who has my permission to be eaten by Radroaches. And to our terrible son in Fallout 4. I never miss an opportunity to tell him that he’s a disappointment to me in every way and then send in Liberty Prime to ruin his evil science nerd dome.

mamma mia! here we go again. this time, instead of sexymen, we're voting on who we Fucking HATE. who's the biggest bastard in this godforsaken franchise? i've picked out some of our fan favorite punching bags to what i hope is your utmost satisfaction. remember, polls only have room for 12 choices; if i've forgotten your precious behated, feel free add them in the tags! if you disagree with the options, i will send you an unsealed jar of uranium

make your choice, cast your vote, and as always, may the worst one win.

[riiseandfall]

@victoriams

it was a miracle that alex hasn't paced a hole right through the floor, given that they had been walking back and forth for the past half an hour, it certainly wasn't for lack of trying. he didn't like how many new rules were being introduced in the games this year--no volunteers and then victors could volunteer and now they were being trained separately? it only added to his nerves.

they were so lost in their internal bitching thoughts that they almost didn't stop in enough time to avoid running over some poor soul who happened to wander into his path. almost. arms were outstretched to steady her, "shit...sorry--i was, uh...." yeah, they didn't really have a good excuse for almost running someone over. "--stylist, right?" not one for twelve but alex is fairly certain he saw her fixing outfits for...eleven maybe? during the parade, "please say you aren't looking for jett because then i have to help you find them and i'm kind of avoiding them at this current moment."

[pingvin-king]

Callout post: If Knight Rhys got a problem wit me then he can meet me outside of Cambridge police station

[mayihavethisdanse]

BoS trolling log, 5/26/2278

Sentinel Cecily Williams CC-666S

*********

10:00  

Stood in just the right spot to confuse Liberty Prime into standing still.

Now if I could just stay here indefinitely, the Commonwealth really would be safe!

(Perhaps next time will wear spare power armor, then get out.)

---

10:30

Left gift for Elder to replace pillow I borrowed last week.

---

14:00 - 15:00

Snuck Danse into quarters for power nap. 

Very important for us to stay well-rested.

---

15:30

Requisitioned essential equipment from Brotherhood personnel.

N.B.: Teagan upsettingly hot. Am upset.

---

15:45

Fed the cat a viable blood sample.

---

16:05

Assembled convincing disguise for Danse. Looks just like Quinlan in those glasses. (They're Quinlan’s.)

It sure doesn’t, sweetie!

---

16:30

Walked around making faces at the deck scribes’ backs until the squires started copying me. Should train them on Kells next.

---

17:00

Running low on ideas. Have resorted to direct action.

Ad victoriam, bitches brothers and sisters!

[thewastelandwriter]

What are the primary companions + the leaders of each faction + the DLC companions favorite swear words?

Cait likes to add “arse” and “shite” to many words if she can.

MacCready really tries not to swear. “Holy shi- crap.” “Heck.”

Curie doesn’t swear but sometimes she will say “bloody”. It’s a rarity.

With Hancock no word is off limits. He’ll even make up words.

Deacon cannot help but say “Absolfuckinglutely” when it’s appropriate.

Piper likes to use “damn” with some attitude.

Nick uses any form of “hell” when the time is right.

Preston mutters “God” under his breath.

Danse says “Ad Victoriam dammit” occasionally.

Codsworth doesn’t like to swear, he finds it tasteless.

Strong only repeats the swear words said by someone that he doesn’t understand.

X6-88 says “bitch” in deadpan.

Bonus:

Gage likes to say “fuck” in various tones.

Longfellow will mutter “bastard” every now and then. He loves “damn.”

Ada refrains from swearing.

Elder Maxson cannot help saying “ass” sometimes.

Father is repulsed by any form of cursing.

Desdemona will curse a sharp “damn” or “dammit.”

[atomic-lexa]

Ummm can I request a follow up to the Maxson/bad bitch sole bc that pairing gives me life. We love a flustered elder. I need them to be together. Ugh.

I’ll admit I’m not super happy with how the first part turned out😕Nothing wrong with a lil self-indulgent fic, but I just don’t feel like I really delved into the depths that I feel in Arthur’s character. So IF I am to turn this into a series- even just a two-parter it will NOT be half-assed one!! So I’ve revamped this one. Okay thank you te amo a todos and enjoy!!

Part One: Not Your Soldier

Ad Gloria

(Arthur Maxson/Sole Survivor)

Mornings were easy enough to get through, with some coffee and lots of internal monologue fit to inspire masses. Maxson’s mind buzzed with the sights and sounds of the ship. Boots scuffing metal, and the persistent hum of the moving parts within the heart of the Prydwen. Quiet, serious conversations mumbled low between senior officers, and enthused banter among recruits over breakfast. The ever-present stream of new hearts and mind into his military was a soothing enough thought. The paperwork was a bitch, but nevertheless. Some new initiates fell in seamlessly, adorning their files with flowery notes from their sponsors, while others maintained their enigmatism. The Elder’s natural attraction to solitude made these certain trainees appeal to him. The urge to sate a curiosity, of sorts- even if he dismissed it as merely keeping an eye on them.

He had to admit, his curiosity was noxious when it came to Sole. Maxson was experienced in cloaking his demeanor in apathy, but there was something captivating about the Django-Jane before him. Some equilibrium between explosive, and never making a move too soon that she seemed adept at. The pernicious met the pedantic when she boarded his ship. Clad in Brotherhood armor and a discontent expression, she had a character he wanted to call childish, but settled on valiant. It all suited her well. Every interaction beyond debriefings and day-time acknowledgements in passing were matched by less on-the-books exchanges between the two of them- typically in shadowed corridors where the murmur of ship’s aliveness blanketed their own conversations. He never could seem to slip past that armor and discontent expression.

Following a series of scoldings and disciplinary actions he’d recycled from vexatious Squires, Maxson promised himself he was constantly on the brink of stripping Sole of her rank and earning himself rebuking rights against the Paladin. However, with every mission she wiped from his roster, he found her to be an increasingly indispensable asset. This worried him. Like it or not, she had a foot in the door, which pissed him off endlessly. In her company, though, he was nothing more than somewhat frustrated, allowing her the reigns for whatever controversial dialogue she decided to ignite that day. 

This night, however, she’d returned from her detail with Danse without so much as a sarcastic comment passed to Proctor Quinlan. He was alerted by a young Knight that she was on the flight deck. It wasn’t necessarily uncommon for a soldier who’d seen something horrific in battle to threaten flinging themselves from the rails to an anticlimactic death on the airport’s grounds. Maxson took a sip of his black coffee, and set aside his files- preparing himself to go to her captivated, and walk away from her prideless. Her eyes were clouded, not the glazed napalm he’d come to know. Something familiar to him took shape in her posture, leaned against the railing of the Prydwen’s chest. She was worn, and scarred, to be sure, but no more defeated by the avaricious expanses of the wasteland below them. Sarah Lyons had the same look about her. Certainly, someone like that only appeared once in a life time. Vicious and virtuous in their own right, subservient to the cause, but master of only themselves. His former mentor’s Sentinel-quality of taking the gnashing teeth of the Capital Wasteland into her own two hands before coming home to teach him all she’d learned. He wondered what Sole could have learned in the slow and unforgiving cruelty of her life. It was daunting, even for him. Especially for him. With the valiant, came their tragic heroism. Subsequently, their death. 

So, yes. Perhaps he would rather brave the insubordination of the woman before him in stead of seeing her flame extinguished.

At a lazy tempo, he made his way over to her, in attempt to warn her of his being there. If she took notice, she didn’t make it known. “It seems you do make a habit of wandering my ship at night.” To match her, he rested his eyes on the blackness of the poisoned ocean. It reached vastly from the light of the Prydwen, into a cold and uninviting night.

“I do.” She replied, seeming focused on something he couldn’t see. She was still covered in blood, from whatever she had battled earlier in the day. It shown dark and crimson on her skin, and the ballistic fiber of her suit.

‘”And why is it you do that?” He tried to make it sound rhetorical.

“Why is it you don’t act your age?” She remarked dryly. At least she hadn’t lost her aptitude for being difficult. Any other moment he would have insisted she watch her tone. But the jarring reality of seeing Sarah in her had been admittedly disarming.

He rubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t know, actually. Too exhausted, I suppose.”

Sole’s gaze pulled from the obsidian sky and found its way to him. The heaviness of the view before him was the only thing on his mind. He would forgo telling her she was the thing that exhausted him, for the tiredness on her own countenance. “That’s almost as depressing as the food in this boat.” She muttered under her breath. With that, he laughed. Such wasn’t a mercy he knew very often. She tilted her head, a bit of suspicion on her features.

“I’ve been preoccupied with the showering situation.” He responded. Maybe it was her persistent apathy that had him throwing away the stakes and tucking away all the fucks he was supposed to give in the revealing daylight.

“Yeah, that shit show too.” Sole said. Silence settled, before she turned her head to him again. “You know,” She added. “When I first met you I thought you were a prick.”

He raised his eyebrows at the unadulterated abrasiveness. “Yes. I concluded that much.”

“Well. You’re not that much of a prick. You’re just rigid as fuck.” She said with the finality of a doctor diagnosing her patient. He wanted to laugh again, but he settled for a small grin.

And you’re absolutely unmanageable. Forbearant as ever, he kept the words behind his teeth. He sighed, leaning on the railing beside her. Sole’s wrists were exposed from the rolled-up sleeves of her jumpsuit, and he studied the goosebumps that dappled them. If she hadn’t caught some sickness from ground-zero, she certainly would by morning. Taking a step back, he tugged his coat off his shoulders; her watching him the whole time. He placed it around her frame and trusted it wouldn’t be uncomfortably heavy.

“You remind me of someone I knew, once.” He said, without knowing why he did, re-settling against the cold steel.

“Oh. Sorry about that.” She said, the statement, following his actions, seeming to throw her off.

He shrugged. “It’s admirable. If rather mutinous.”

“You cope better than Danse, then, if admirable’s how you put it.” He was painfully mindful of the modest inches she had closed between them.

He smiled again, understatedly. “Hm. I imagine you’ve given him a migraine or two.”

Now, it was her turn to laugh. Despite her apt for comedy, her laugh had never rung in his ears prior to this moment. He felt more relaxed to view their exchange as less of the struggle it usually was. He found it shockingly easy to seep into her way of flowy banter, rather than being, well, rigid as fuck.

“You can say that again. I haven’t given you any migraines, have I, Sir?” She offered, disarmingly sweet, her face close to his, eyes searching his own. Looking for what, he didn’t know.

“Perpetually, actually. Since you came. I suppose I’m just forgiving, in that regard.” He replied.

“Can I make it up to you?” She smiled, nose moving ever-closer to his. 

“Perhaps. How many more details do you intend to apply for?”

“I told you,” She smirked. “I’m not a soldier. But if you let me keep the coat, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Ad Victoriam, then, Knight.”

“Ad Gloria, Commander.”

So as to say that victory was not enough for her hungry mind. It sparked like matches in his chest. Maybe that was what it was to act his age- the aspect of glory, and freedom from the shackles of responsibility. It was too tantalizing- and all took form in this obstreperous woman. It was too easy to fall into her lips, in the vast blackness of the uninviting night.

[bigdumbskeletons]

I hate the brotherhood of steel. What the fuck is “Ad Victoriam”? Bitch I’m gonna kill you.

[bran-ridire]

Ad Victoriam, Bitch. So, still looking for blogs to follow, if anyone has any suggestions... Fallout, Star Wars, World of Warcraft, things like that...

[the-dubstep-strawberry]

Margot as a Companion

I’ve seen this on a few people’s Tumblrs today and wanted to give it a go... I’ve added a few reacts of my own, too. Here goes!

Sole Survivor’s Reactions/Dialogue as a Companion: Margot de Havilland

When picking up junk:

“Dibs on the Pre-War stuff.” “That looks useful. Sure, why not?” “Might be good for parts.” “Remind me to pick one of those up for Shaun...”

*Bonus* "I used to have one of those...” *sighs* Dropping junk:

“Whoops. Looks like you dropped something there.” "I guess it wasn't that useful after all.” “Ehh, looked like garbage anyway.” “One person can only carry so much, I guess...” Working at a crafting station:

“You need a hand with that?” “That looks pretty good...” “Just like Mom used to make...” “Let me know when you're done.”

Telling them where to go:

“Sure thing.” “On my way.” “Consider it done.” “Okay.” *walks away humming "The Wanderer"* When they can’t go to a certain spot/perform an action:

“Yeah... no.” “No can do. Sorry.” “Please don't ask me to do that. Refusal often offends.” “And how exactly do you expect me to get there?” Telling them to wait in one spot:

“Don't worry, I'll be right here.” “Okay, but be careful.” “I'll be right here if you need me...” “Glad I brought a book. Don't keep me waiting too long, okay?” Telling them to follow after waiting:

“There you are... I was starting to wonder if you were coming back.” “Welcome back. Ready to go?” “You know, it's rude to keep a lady waiting...” “Ready when you are...” Trading:

“Give me all the things.” “I think I might have something here for you... let's take a look.” “Find anything good out there?” “I picked up a few things along the way. Help yourself.”

*BONUS REACTS*

Parting:

“Parting is such sweet sorrow...” “Okay, I'll see you later. Be careful out there.” “It's been fun. Till next time!” “Safe travels.”

Asking to travel:

“Sounds like fun. Let's go!” “Sure, why not?” “I'm always up for a little mayhem.” “You know, I might just take you up on that...”

In battle:

“For the Commonwealth!” “Ad victoriam!” “You're dead, you son of a bitch!” “Die, you bastards!”

When asked to attack an enemy:

“With pleasure.” “They'll never see this coming...” “I could use some target practice.” “They're as good as dead.”

When wounded:

“Shit, that's going to hurt in the morning.” “Ow, that hurt! Son of a bitch...” “Argh! Damn it!” “You got any Stimpaks? I think I could use one right about now...”

Taking rads:

“We should probably get out of here. Unless you want to glow in the dark.” “I like Ghouls, but I really don't want to turn into one.” “Rad-X can only do so much, you know... don't push it.” “My Pip-Boy's geiger counter is going crazy. We need to move.”

Stealing an owned item:

“We really shouldn't be doing this.” “This is wrong. You know that, right?” “If the Massachusetts Bar Association could see me now...” “I hope this doesn't belong to anyone.”

Cannibalism:

“Nope. Nope, nope, nope, NOPE.” “That is the most absolutely disgusting... oh God, I think I'm going to be sick.” “I've seen some messed-up stuff in the Commonwealth, but this takes the cake.” ”What the hell is wrong with you?”

Dying:

“Tell Codsworth to look after Shaun for me...” “For the Commonwealth...” “At least I get to see my family again... Mom, Dad, Peggy... Nate...” “Danse... I love you...”

[bran-ridire]

So… I know I’m playing Saints Row, but I think I just stole a Vertibird… Ad Victoriam, bitches.