#also. vegas might not be a bad guy after all?

[having-conniptions]

Me during the entire second half of KinnPorsche ep 10: where the fuck is Pete? Why is no one mentioning his absence??

Kinn at the end of the episode: I feel like I'm forgetting something but I can't remember what it is...

Me: WHERE THE FUCK IS PETE???

[johntorrington]

thinking about him (my old gay cannibal fallout oc)

[writting-stuff-sometimes]

Night in Vegas- Lando x fem reader

Summary: Y/N had been Lando's PR, it had been messy and she moved to Red Bull, but maybe things were not as bad as she thought.

Warnings: Abusive Max (Sorry someone had to be the bad guy) smutty ending.

Notes: No hate to anyone this story just needed a villain.

___________________________________________

The moment the job offer came from Red Bull you didn't think it twice. You had been Lando's PR for the last 2 years, which was kind of a nightmare. He had the worst cases of verbal diarrhea, not that Max didn't but the paycheck was worth the extra work. Also, the interactions with Lando had always been weird and uncomfortable.

He was so nice and funny around everyone else but you, whenever it was just you two, you could hear the grass grow. In the beginning, you tried to get to know him, create somewhat of a bond so you could understand him better and work around that info, but every time you tried to get him to tell you something about him he would shut you out, keeping his answers short and dry.

And here you were, your first six months as Max PR agent were...interesting, he was a master in driving but thanks to his dad and the people around him, his public image was a challenge, a challenge you loved to work, at least you did until he started showing his real self. It began with small tantrums, mood swings when an interview had been scheduled when he had agreed to go play paddle, or that one time on a bad day when a reporter asked him about his dad's history with the law even when you had precisely warned them not to ask about any of that.

But that was all fun and games until tonight's event for the Vegas GP. Usually, the US GP's parties were a nightmare. Tons and tons of media people and influencers with little idea about F1. Yet they were important to attend because of the amount of rich people the teams craved as their lawful sponsors, so all the drivers were requested to go. This meant an awful fight with Max who hated these events where he had to "prostitute" himself for a couple of millions, it was particularly tricky now that some pictures and supposed messages showing Kelly might have been cheating, surfaced. You promised him to warn everybody that any questions about his personal life were off the table for any of the interviews, but American media cared little about that.

"Are you stupid or something?" His angry voice was so much like his dad's. Dry, hurtful, and insulting even when he wasn't using big curse words.

"Max, I told everyone personal questions were off the table. I sent a memo last week and a reminder this morning" You walked following him closely as he exited the event venue. Your heels making it difficult for you to keep his pace.

"I don't care!" He stopped and turned towards you abruptly, making you crash against his body. "If Christian gives me any shit about not being here I will make sure he knows this was all your fault" His voice loud and angry felt even more intimidating as he was towering over you, his red face so close to yours you could feel the heat radiate from it.

"But-"

"Shut it, I don't want to hear it" He spat.

"Hey, mate, easy" You both turned to look at the curled hair driver approaching at a firm pace.

"Lando, this has nothing to do with you"

"It does when you're talking like that to Y/N" He gently held your arm pulling you back, placing himself between you and Max.

"How did you deal with this shit for two years? she's the worst"

"I disagree, she's the best"

"What? Why are you defending her?" Max looked in shock from Lando's intervention, and to be honest, so were you.

"Because I know the mess you are and you talking to her like that is unacceptable and most likely uncalled for. We should've never let her go, I've begging Zak to get her back and after this, there's no way I'm letting her stay at RB"

"What the fuck? I don't...Wait, did you two ...? She must be a good fuck if you want her back so bad" A bitter laugh left his chest.

There it was, the angry verbal diarrhea.

You wanted to jump in and tell him you had never even crossed two complete phrases with Lando, how the hell were you going to fuck him? But no sound left your body, you were just a passenger in this trainwreck.

"Max, come on, It's not her fault your life's a fucking mess and that you have no idea how to deal with it. And take it from me, mate, you don't need a PR manager, you need a therapist."

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Max took a couple of steps forward and faced Lando menacingly. He wasn't much taller than the Brit but seemed angry enough to cause damage.

"This is enough" You finally spoke, your voice shaky as you grabbed Lando's arm trying to pull him back. But he didn't move an inch.

"I'm not afraid of you mate" Lando hissed.

"Ok enough" You said in the most motherly voice ever and stepped in between them. "Lando, thanks but that's enough. You two don't want to do or say anything you'll regret later"

"See you on the track, mate" Said Lando as he took your hand and pulled you toward the parking lot.

You walked with him still in shock from the situation, expecting for him to let go of your hand as soon as you were out of sight from Max, but he kept going until he reached the Valet and gave him his ticket.

"Thanks fo that" You tried breaking the uncomfortable silence. "I think I need to go back there tho, I might not have a job tomorrow, but I don't need them to fire me because of not complying with my duties, Maybe I can find Max and convince him-"

"If they don't fire you, you're quitting" He said as he typed on his phone.

"What?! No, I can't do that, I can't afford to lose my job"

"You'll have a job"His voice was confident as he kept typing.

"Lando, I really-"

"Your car, Mr.Norris" The valet cut you off opening the passenger door for you.

"Get in" Lando walked toward the door to hold it himself.

"Lan-"

"Get in... please" He finally looked at you, something in his eyes telling you to do it. Not wanting to perform another scene now in front of the valet, you got inside the fancy McLaren. Your feet thanked you for the much-needed rest after the little sprint.

He removed his suit jacket, got in the driver's side, and drove off.

"I swear, you're not going to be jobless, you can stop with the bouncy leg" A hint of a laugh in his voice. Of course, he could laugh about it, he was worth millions, if he lost his job that same night, he'd have enough money to live comfortably for two lives.

Your phone started ringing in your bag. Chirstian's face on your screen made your heart beat a thousand miles. You could almost hear him, his calm yet angry voice made your skin crawl.

"Don't answer him, there's no need"

"Lando, you don't get it, it's not that simple"

A ding on his phone and a pop-up notification on his console screen called your attention.

Zak: Fine, I'm ok with it, we can talk details tomorrow.

"See?" He said smiling at the notification. You stared at him confused.

"I promised him I would behave my best for the rest of my contract if they took you back. Welcome back to Mclaren" A big smile on his face. It was odd being on the receiving end of that smile.

"Sadly, you won't be working with me. You will be part of the team's PR, I think that's an even bigger paycheck, tho"

"Ok, stop stop stop" Your voice filled with slight panic. "What the fuck's happening?"

"Wow, your first bad word" He was way too entertained with the situation.

"That you know of" Your facade was off, screw being professional, this moment was a moment for panic.

Christian's number shined on your screen again.

"Hello" You finally answered.

"Y/N, I just got a thousand messages from Max, and from the team at the event, what's going on?"

"Christian, Max lost it after some journalist asked him about Kelly, I had clearly said no questions about that were allowed"

"You should not have left Max to leave the party, we need him back there"

"I tried to stop him but-"

"No buts, Y/n, that's your job"

"No"

"What?"

"No, that's not my job, I'm not a babysitter, I'm a PR agent, I should not be dealing with tantrums and the equivalent of being spit in the face by an angry baby just because he's Max Verstappen"

You took a deep breath as the man on the other side of the phone kept quiet. Netflix would kill to have footage of this situation.

"I quit" You finally said

"What?" His high-pitched voice told you he was as surprised as you by the words leaving your mouth. You turned to look a Lando, he had the biggest smile on his face.

"I quit, Christian. I can stop by to sign my resignation tomorrow."

"But-"

"I'm sorry but I have to go now. I will stop by your office tomorrow to sign whatever is needed and to return my credentials. Have a good night" You hung up with shaky hands. As much as you sounded confident you were screaming inside.

"Nice" Lando's accent so thick.

"Oh my God" You placed your head between your legs and took deep breaths, trying not to faint.

"It's ok, it will all be ok" You felt his hand run softly up and down your back which felt weirdly soothing and calming.

You finally felt calm enough to lift your head, realizing he had pulled over at a truck stop next to the highway.

"What the fuck just happened?" You closed your eyes, the world felt as if it was spinning out of orbit.

"It will be ok, you were amazing"

"I will regret this tomorrow"

"I could help you with that" he said under his breath, you barely catching his words.

"What?"

"Never mind. Listen, you'll be fine, you'll join the team for the next season, and you can take this time as a well-deserved vacation"

"What are you talking about? Maybe Zak only told you that so you would stop bothering him. I can't wait until the next season. Oh my God, I need to call Christian back, if I apologize and explain that I was drunk or something he might not fire me" you said as you fumbled with your phone trying to get your shaky hands to get your calls.

"Stop, no, Y/n" In a swift move, Lando took your phone from your hand.

"Give it back! This is all your fault!"

"What?!"

"If you had stayed out of this I might have convinced Max to go back to the party and none of this had happened" You said as you almost jumped over him to get your phone back as he moved his hand around keeping you away from it.

"Oh c'mon, you wouldn't have lasted two more weeks with his annoying ass, I love Max but he's a pain" He sounded way too entertained by all this.

"Lando, stop it! Give me back my phone!"

"No, you have to calm down"

"No, give it back" you were almost kneeling over the seat.

"Y/n, stop"

"No"

"Y/n!"

"NO, GIVE IT-" Before you could finish your sentence his free hand grabbed you from your neck and pulled you toward him, his lips crashed into yours, finally getting you to stop moving. You even stopped breathing.

After a couple of seconds or hours, you weren't sure anymore, he let go of the fist he had formed around your hair and pulled back. His cheeks flushed as if he had been the one who had gotten kissed out of nowhere.

"Have I been drugged? Am I hallucinating? This has to be a weird trip"

His particular laugh sent chills down your spine.

"C'mon, it wasn't my best job but I'm not used to kissing people as they're having a panic attack, I needed you to calm down"

"And kissing me was the best you could come up with?"

"You're not thinking about your phone or Christian anymore, are you?"

"You're sick"

"Listen, I'm sorry I did it like that, ok? I stepped over a boundary and I apologize, but I know that after this you might hate me for the rest of your life and this seemed like the only moment I was going to be able to do it, so I'm sorry but not really"

"You can't go around kissing people just because"

"I didn't do it just because"

"What?"

"Y/N, I'm fucking in love with you!" He screamed.

"What?" Your voice is barely a whisper

"I'm sorry, I was dumb ok?"

"I'm not getting any of this"

"Ok, I'll explain. It took me about 2 months to fall head over heels for you, ok? You're smart, incredibly beautiful, funny, and so good at your job, it was hard not to fall in love with you. But I know I can be an asshole, so trying to stay away from you and not ruin everything I behaved like an even bigger asshole, pushing you away and into Red Bull's arms. So as an apology, I've been having talks with Zak. this has been going on for months. So no this just didn't come up, Max just made it easier for me to set the plan in motion"

You stared at his proud face in awe.

"Are you breathing?" He asked when not. single sound had left your body for a long time.

"You're in love with me?"

"Um yeah" He blushed and almost looked away but he didn't.

"For the two years we worked together, you were in love with me?"

"Yeah, basically"

"You have a shitty way of showing love"

"Sorry" he laughed under his breath

"You're nuts"

"I know" As soon as he saw you had calmed down he stretched his hand softly caressing your cheek. "I'm nuts for you"

"Ew, don't"

He laughed, the sound making you feel something new.

"I don't know"

"What?"

"What's going on"

"Maybe another kiss might help? I'm actually asking this time"

"Ok" You answered in a low whisper.

"Ok" He softly whispered as he took you by the neck, and pulled you toward him. It was a mutual kiss now, your lips dancing with his. His tongue traced your lips and they parted allowing your tongue to start a fight with his.

The kiss heated up as his other hand grabbed your hips and pulled you over him. Your ass pressed on the horn startling both of you and making you laugh, but quickly you returned to your make-out session.

His hand shily traveled down your spine and stopped over the soft satin fabric covering your ass. You knew exactly what he was trying to test, so you moved yours down his chest, feeling his racing heart, and traveled down all the way to his pants. You could feel his growing bulge and you gave it a squeeze. He moaned deeply and he gave a slap to your ass, making you moan too.

You were about to unbuckle his belt but his hand landed over yours.

"Wait, do you actually want to do this?" he asked out of breath.

"Yes" Your voice shaky from the excitement.

"Are you sure? I don't want to force you or-"

"Lando, I want you to fuck me"

Your words sent an electric shock through his body, you could even feel his dick twitch under your hand.

"I'm all yours" He smiled and moved his lips to your neck, you threw your head back giving him space to explore it and its sensitive areas. He gave soft bites around it, as he stretched to the glove compartment getting a condom out of it.

"You're a manwhore"

"I was just manifesting this"

"Sure" you answered squinting your eyes.

"I promise, You can ask Oscar, I've not had sex for months"

"I don't need to know that"

"Yeah you do, I swear I wasn't going to use this with anyone else, I promise"

He was most likely lying, but you decided to believe him, at least for tonight.

"Fine" You said as you took the condom from his hand and opened it as your lips went back to his.

He helped you by pulling down his pants and his boxers enough for his throbbing cock to spring out and slap his stomach.

"Hello Mr. Norris" You said with a cheeky smile

"Don't act so surprised"

"Sorry"

He now took the hem of your dark blue dress and pulled it over your hips, softly caressing the soft flesh of your thighs and ass. He moaned at the feeling of no underwear under it.

"You're naughty"

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me"

"I love it" He said and bit your lower lip as he placed you over his hard cock. You took the condom and without breaking the kiss you rolled it over his dick, enjoying the feeling of the heat and the veins that ran through it.

He couldn't wait any longer and as soon as he felt the condom in place he lifted his hips entering you in one deep thrust making you moan loudly from the incredible feeling of being so full.

"Fuck, Lando" you said as he started thrusting. A slow yet hard pace made your eyes roll to the back of your head, as he held you one hand by the neck the other one caressing your ass.

"Fuck, you're so fucking perfect" He moaned against your tits that were spilling out your dress.

He took one of your nipples in his mouth, pushing you closer to your release.

You had forgotten when was the last time you had sex, but none of your previous experiences could compare to this one. Lando being a manwhore was quite a benefit.

His hips hitting against yours at such a perfect pace was driving you crazy. He could tell by the way you were pulsing around him that you were close. This was probably a record and he was going to savor it.

He brought one of his hands down to your clit and just a couple of circles helped by how wet you were pushed you over the edge, loudly moaning his name in his ear. That sweet sound looped in his brain, making him reach his climax shortly after.

"Fuck" he finally said after you two had reached a decent breathing pace.

"Shit"

"Fourth curse word of the night"

"Shut it" You said as you pushed yourself off his chest and kissed him.

"I'm going to love having you around again"

"Me too"

"Well, Max was right about one thing" A cheeky grin on his face.

"What?"

"You're such a good fuck"

"You're a dick" You slapped his chest as he pulled you back to kiss him.

This was probably going to be a mess, but at least for a couple of months you were unemployed and free to date whoever you wanted, that included F1 drivers who would probably be off limits once your contract started, but that was a problem for your versions of the future.

Tag List: @wtrmlnsgr94, @ricsaigaslec, @ironmaiden1313, @formulas-bitch,

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

im curious, why do you like fiddlestan?

i like them in theory (all the pain potential, jeez!) but i feel like i'm missing something very obvious

Oh boy, you’re about to open pandoras box with this one -

I’ve liked fiddlestan for a LONG time, almost a decade now, (EXHIBIT A!!!), and honestly, I’ll admit that the ship is mostly based on speculation. So maybe you’re not missing something obvious, maybe I’m just delusional. I can’t speak for everyone, all I can do is explain why I like it: because it’s deeply rooted in several layers of irony. 

It’s ironic because fiddleford spent the better part of a YEAR dealing with fords nonsense. (And I KNOW, it’s not all bad, but really, especially if you read journal 3, that poor man was put through a LOT. He was definitely taken advantage of, at LEAST a little.) And after grappling with the acceptance that your longtime friend and unrequited love will never return your feelings, having lost the man to some crazy otherworldly nightmare machine, who shows up?? But his TWIN BROTHER who’s HUMBLE and KIND and TEN TIMES MORE DOWN TO EARTH?? It’s ironic, because they don’t know each other, yet they both have years of history with the same person who’s wronged them, and, they can make out about it!! THEY CAN FUCK TO SPITE HIM!! Stan stole his brothers name (and committed multiple crimes under said name), stole his house, and stole his research partner!! And… it's ironic because it’s Grunkle Stan and old man Mcgucket. That needs no elaboration.

(these are all my personal takes/headcanons! Like I said, this ship is based solely on interpretation, so I’m sure a lot of fiddlestanners like fiddauthor too. There’s like a billion different ways to interpret this ship.)

Also -

Their personalities are surprisingly similar when you stop and think about it!! You put those two in the same room, and they’d come up with some highly devilish scams together. They both have moral codes that are a little… ambiguous. And… I can’t believe I’m gonna pull this out as *canon fiddlestan documentation* but these are the kind of crumbs we’re working with here: MABELS DREAM IN THE SOCK OPERA CREDITS!!!! Although it’s not something that actually happened, and it’s just a reference to statler and waldorf, they are IN CHARACTER!! I think this is how they would actually act together if they were friends!! Just two old dudes, hanging out together watching tv, making fun of whatever they’re watching. If you’re in the room, you might get roasted too. Just a couple of old farts. It makes me so happy to think about. 

No fiddlestan rundown post would be complete without the fandoms EXTREME STRAW GRASP at Old Goldie and the Flame Retardant Raccoon. Soos calls mcgucket a “prospector guy,” amongst the other obvious comparisons you can make between fiddleford and goldie. Goldie is something stan used to like a long time ago, but he’s all old and fucked up now, best to throw him away and forget about it. BUT, as it turns out, there’s still good in that old thing after all. SO LETS GET MARRIED IN VEGAS!!!! It’s an extreme stretch, but… It’s a fiddlestan trope that they, at some point, have a crazy night of fun+romance in vegas together.  And I personally like to think that they return when they’re older+happy and tie the knot for reals. The raccoon speaks for itself - it’s one of the ways you can compare stan to a raccoon. And of course, mcgucket's raccoon wife. 

This is where it starts to get a little angsty, and if you “get all the pain potential” then you may have already given this some thought - but why does stan treat fiddleford the way he does if they used to love each other? The whole “UGH, this guy” comment in land before swine, looking all uncomfortable around him in fight fighters, choosing the spot furthest from where mcgucket lotions himself at the pool, and the “possum breath” comment in the last episode (and fiddleford actually has the mental clarity to look perturbed after he says it). Stan is hurt!!! He’s upset!! If they used to be a Thing after the portal incident, something must have happened between them for fiddlefords mental illness to get the better of him, and for him to choose to erase both stan and ford from his memories. I, personally, think that it was deep rooted internal homophobia (being raised in the south, that runs deep), and being scared for getting too close to stan. They were getting too comfortable, and that scared him. What about his family? And tate? His son can never meet stan. He can never let his wife know. And all the paranormal fuckery incidents leading up to this that already weakened his mental state, the portal incident, already having zapped his brain a few times, would have sent him over the edge. So I’m thinking they would have gotten into a fight of some kind, and fiddleford would have stormed off. Thus leaving stan having to live in a town with the person he USED to love, who doesn’t remember him at all!!! What!!!!! That sucks!!!! Only upside to fiddlefords memory erasure is that it makes it easier for stan to pretend nothing ever happened. But it’s still not easy. Also, if word ever got out that old man mcgucket used to be his boyfriend, he would never be able to live it down. So he compensates by being an ass towards him. Fuck. 

But then!! If fiddleford has the chance to heal!!! (say… maybe… when the twins are on the stan o war II) then stan would come back to gravity falls and see fiddleford looking like the person he knew thirty years ago!!!! WHAT!?!?! CAN’T RUN FROM YOUR PAST FOREVER, CAN YOU!?!?! And you KNOW fiddleford would remember what happened with stan. How long can stan keep himself in denial?? And now we’re opening up the can of worms: how the FUCK does this information reach ford?? That your brother used to canoodle with your research partner and might STILL BE?? That has so much potential too. 

Ok I wasn’t expecting to write those last two paragraphs but it’s A BIG PART OF WHY I LOVE FIDDLESTAN!!! It’s a crazy fucking rollercoaster ride!!! This thing has so many angles!!! And that’s just MY fiddlestan interpretation - I’ve seen a lot of different takes on the sort of story that would transpire between these two. But no matter what you’re cooking, It’s always a LOT. 

There’s probably so so much I didn’t touch on here. If anyone else wants to throw in their two cents as to why they like fiddlestan, please, add something!!!

[theresattrpgforthat]

hello! long time fan, second time asker! any fallout/fallout-esque ttrpg recommendations? esp. styled after 1, 2, and new vegas. could be recommendations based on setting, vibe, mechanics - whatever you like :) i did already get after the bombs fell by the illustrious aaron king on your recommendation, and am very excited to play! if you've already answered this kind of ask before, then maybe some recommendations for trigun-esque ttrpgs - i love the setting of trigun, and i think it would lend itself well to an rpg. anyways, thank you so much for all you do, and for opening my eyes to so many fun games! happy adventuring to you!

THEME: Trigun!

Alright so for Fallout games, I think I did a really good job in my Fallout Recommendation Post, and I also reblogged this post a while back that has a few more hits involved. I might also have a few more recs at the end of this post. So I guess what we’re going to try to do today is find some games that would lend themselves to running a Trigun-style game!

I haven’t seen Trigun, so I did some research about it. From what I understand, it’s about Vash, a superpowered outcast who’s being hunted by people for a big bounty, despite his vow to never take another person’s life. The series seems to be an examination about the choice to act or not, and the characters all seemed to be flawed or haunted in one way or another. What’s really interesting to me is that this feels to have a lot of overlap with the themes of Cowboy Bebop, especially since the creators of Trigun appear to be inspired by westerns as well.

With that in mind, I’ve got a lot of space - western ttrpgs here; the settings of all of these can probably be altered to reflect more closely the setting of Trigun, without doing that much harm to the way the rules work.

BXLLET, by Rathayibacter.

The world was broken, a long time ago. We've fought hard to build something better in the aftermath, but we're haunted by the ruins, weapons, and monsters of the past. Will you scratch out a corner of paradise, or will you give in to the temptations of the gun on your hip?

[BXLLET> is a game about systems of violence and power in a world rebuilding itself. As wandering gunslingers, you'll travel the world and do what you can to help the people you encounter. You'll become more powerful the more bullets you carry, but you'll also struggle with the responsibility that power carries with it. Violence will come easily to you, but can you feed crops with rivers of blood?

This game deals with issues of gun violence, exploitation, and apocalypse, and those sensitive to those issues should go into this fully aware. It's not a game for fascists, bigots, capitalists, or their lackeys, and shouldn't be approached from a perspective that boils the complexities of the world into "good guys with guns vs bad guys with guns."

If you want a game that directly tackles the uses of violence and the weight that comes with the decision to kill, I definitely recommend checking out BXLLET. One of the most poignant mechanics of this game revolves around the storage of bullets, and the way your bullet hoard gives you powers. If you spend a bullet, someone will die - you won’t have to roll for it. But if you spend your bullets, you’re also spending your XP. I think it’s very interesting that you only gain the use of special powers if you choose not to spend your killing resource - and by using your bullets to kill, you also lose special, very effective powers.

Even though BXLLET isn’t necessarily a space western, I think it definitely communicates the themes of Trigun in a very interesting way, and I definitely think it’s worth checking out.

Orbital Blues, by Soulmuppet Publishing.

This is the rock and roll future of yesteryear that never was—and nobody wanted.  It is an intergalactic age of cowboys, outlaws and bandits playing on an interstellar stage. It is a time of hyper-capitalism and a cut-throat gig economy. Unreliable trash-heaps carry scrappy underdogs to their next gig, and corporation freighters lumber across the horizon laden with an empire’s bounty. These are the music-fuelled, moon-age daydreams of a rebel space age.  These are your ORBITAL BLUES.

ORBITAL BLUES is a lo-fi space western roleplaying game from SoulMuppet Publishing, written by Sam Sleney & Zachary Cox.  A roleplaying love-letter to off-beat sci-fi, vintage music, and cooperative old-school styled roleplay, Orbital Blues allows you to play out rules-light tabletop adventures in the style of space westerns. Stepping into the shoes of Interstellar Outlaws, players band together to form Crews, and navigate a hard-going, gig-economy living on the fringes of a space-faring society.

Orbital Blues is more in the style of Firefly and Cowboy Bebop, but from what I gather about Trigun, that somewhat sad western feel rings true for that series as well. As sad space cowboys, each of the players chooses a Gambit - a special ability that is special to your character - as well as a Trouble - something that haunts your character, a problem that just won’t go away. Playing into your Trouble grants you a Blues, a measure of how much of your past sins weigh down on you. Should your Blues get too high, you’ll have to confront your Trouble, but this also allows you to spend your Blues like a resource, and at the end of the scene, you can gain new abilities, restore health, or increase a stat by 1.

If you want a game where wrestling with your past and your worries is what fuels your character’s story, you want Orbital Blues.

Clink, by Technical Grimoire Games.

Clink is a tabletop RPG about drifters, the creeds that bring them together, and the history that drives them apart. This game uses coins to tell a story inspired by spaghetti westerns, ronin tales, and shows like Firefly or Supernatural.

Your past is a mystery, but your Creed drives you forward.

Characters begin as rough sketches of the shifty sort you’d see in an old Western or Noir film. They all start as blank slates, their histories unknown. Tell stories about their past and create your character as you play.

You can play Clink in the setting of your choice, but what remains true about the characters is that they are competent, and they drift from place to place. As a group, all of you have the same Creed, a commitment that the group promises to follow - perhaps that they will seek revenge, or that they will never kill someone in their search for peace. Your characters will also have personal Triggers - certain situations or actions that prompt them to do something that puts them and the group in trouble. Your backstory isn’t written at the beginning of the game, but rather unraveled through moments called Flashbacks, which do double duty as exposition as well as the reason why your Drifter is good at roping, shooting, piloting, and more.

Finally, Clink uses coins, two of which are flipped every time you attempt something difficult or dangerous. As long as one of those coins comes up heads, you’ll do alright - but get double tails and your success comes at a cost - a Scar. Scars are dark moments from your part, moments you wish you didn’t have to relive. Gain too many Scars, and your group may splinter, bringing the story to a bitter or sorrowful end.

Dubious Pursuits, by Nested Games.

Dubious Pursuits is a short, PbtA RPG  for 4-6 players about Bounty Hunters in pursuit of their target, emulated stories like Cowboy Bebop. Your pursuit will be propelled not by violence, but by learning personal details about your bounty and what brought them to this point. What will you do when you finally catch up with them? 

Dubious Pursuits credits Cowboy Bebop as a source of inspiration, but I think it has the ability of delivering an emotional story that challenges your players to face the complexities of chasing down someone while learning things about them that might make bringing them to justice harder and harder to do. I don’t own the game so I’m not sure how much control the table has over the truths of the target, but I wonder if it might be possible to use this game to approach a super-powered bounty from the perspective of someone like Meryl Strife.

24BB: The Mud, The Blood, & The Beer by Calvin J’onzz.

You are a sinner. You are wicked. You have taken human life, first in self defense but then because it felt good. You have stolen from those in need, first to survive but then because it was easy. You have treated humans as objects and property because they were less powerful and could not stop you. But now you have stopped doing those things. You are still that person—you still want to do those things—but you are trying on a different approach to life. You have realized a new ethos, and you feel deep camaraderie with any who share it.

A Western. The world presented here aims to reflect the weirdness of Trigun and the energy of The Mandalorian without losing the tension of For a Fistful of Dollars. The gravitas of Clint Eastwood's The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly or the schlock of Patrick Swayze's Steel Dawn is optional. 

The rules for MBB are pretty easy to pick up - different size dice that scale up with your skill and a simple threshold of 4 to beat for any given roll - and the setting is minimalistic, allowing you to flavor or fill it as you like. Trigun is listed directly in the series of references for this game, which tells me that you’ll be able to create a character similar to Vash without any trouble.

A unique mechanic to this version of 24XX is your character’s edge. Edge is a meta-resource (that could have a physical manifestation) belonging to your character that can give you a boost when you need it, or that can help you avoid some kind of consequence. Edges are one-use items that are erased when tapped, although they can be gained again during play. You can take an edge when you play into your one redeeming virtue, such as never harming kids, taking others’ burdens, or aiding in forgiveness. The game comes with a whole roll table to inspire your personal edges, and I think these virtues make this game an homage to Trigun more than anything else.

Magitech Space Western, by ApexCity.

Welcome to the Beyond, pard. Beyond what? Beyond hope or help, beyond safety and security. Unfortunately, not beyond the reach of the Law or the Civ, or the ever avaricious Corporations. Beyond just about everything that you’ve been told is necessary to survive, though. But that’s ok. Dust yourself off, pick yourself up, and let’s take a stroll…

Magitech Space Western is a card-based hack of Powered by the Apocalypse, using a standard set of playing cards to determine the outcomes of actions instead of dice. It also includes variants of Poker and Blackjack to abstract player conflict and vehicle action, respectively.

While this game comes from the PbtA design school, the use of cards instead of dice leans into the themes of the genre, asking the players to build their characters according to two card suits of their choice. These card suits represent different aspects of a character’s personality. The staggered successes of PbtA show up here as the values on the cards you draw and play - 7-10 for a mixed success, Jack-Ace for a full success, and a 6 or lower for a a miss. However, since you’re playing from a hand that you might have, you may occasionally get to choose what you play - and playing cards that align with the suits you’ve chosen give you something extra to spend down the road.

Since you’re playing from a deck, you can to some extent plan around what’s already been drawn as you play. I think this might also allow an ebb and flow as you tell the story - a string of bad luck should lead to something good, and a string of good luck means that there’s trouble down the road.

When it comes to setting, you’re all existing in a capitalistic world that ignores the troubles of the marginalized and the backwater folks. Expect to attract trouble from the rich, the powerful, and the desperate - and expect that things are never going to go completely your way.

Other Games I Recommend….

Check out my Post Apocalypstic Community Recommendation Post!

I also did a Nuclear Radiation Recommendation Post a while back.

I’ve got a Space and Stars Recommendation Post that might have some funky settings.

I also have another Space Western Recommendation Post that have some overlap with what you see here, but also have more options!

[mysteriouslyjovialcolor]

Las Vegas 2024

-Fun Fact: Listening to the national anthem at 12:50 am does not make you feel more awake, but hearing a 1D song in the background of the pre-race interviews does

-Props to Franco Colapinto and the Williams garage for getting back into shape so quickly

-Charles!!! Let’s go!! He really loves those p4s!! How does he manage those starts???

-“It’s a brave man who makes a move against Kevin Magnussen” Hehe

-Go Nico!

-Alpine being the bane of my existence right now

-Seeing Yuki and Nico in p7 and p8 just feels right

-Fernando Alonso is just going for it! I need him to have a good race for once

-Also, Zhou p12??

-“Here comes Charles Leclerc…” And there goes Max Verstappen!!

-Alonso?? Oh he had softs on

-Oscar false start?

-Alpine, you’re back to being good babe

-“I think Charles has to get this move done on George Russel” I think his move on Carlos Sainz was what was more important

-Woah that replay between Kevin and Liam, so close to contact

-Come on Lewis, come on, come on

-Ohmygodd Max!! Lewis!! Aaaaah!

-Yuki and Pierre!!

-Why the hell are the graphics showing Charles p4? Fix that immediately!

-Lewis! Lewis! Lewis!

-Charles and Lando pitting now??

-Ferrari if you mess this up for me I will be having words

-Max and Lewis again!! Making moves!

-Max stuck in a Mercedes sandwich. It’s giving old times

-Okay it’s fine I guess, the pit stop, for Ferrari (but why is Charles behind Carlos)

-Okay Red Bull be good

-No way Merc is double stacking… yeah they’re not

-Okay okayyy Ferrari

-Oh no Ocon? What was that pit stop?

-Would it be crazy for me to manifest a Hulk podium? Yeahh, never mind, he just dropped way down after that stop

-Cool how George still got back out in the lead after pitting

-“No power!” Oh no Pierre. Oh god that’s so unfortunate, so so unfortunate

-Come on Lewis, come on, come on

-Yes!

-Ah Yuki!!

-Charles and Checo (Vegas 2023 I miss you)!

-Okay Checo really needs to pit now

-“I think Hamilton unquestionably has the pace” I’ve been waiting so long to hear that

-We forgot way too quickly how bad that Alpine was, Brazil got us dreaming too big

-“We’ll come back to you” agshsjsvshajnabs

-The way I’ve been urging Lewis on for the last five laps

-Nico! Nico! Nico!

-Lol how is Yuki stuck in a McLaren sandwich again

-“Man these guys are fast on the straights”

-Can people stop with the “shelf-life” comments? So distasteful

-Zhou’s doing pretty well isn’t he?

-“Can we just get a race without problems?” Alex I’m so sorry

-How are Checo and Liam even near each other right now?

-Oh come on Charles

-“Swap positions” Ooh I wasn’t expecting that. Are Ferrari finally taking things seriously??

-Oh my god, Carlos whyyyy?

-“Stay out, stay out, stay out” Come on!!

-Checo finally overtaking the Sauber

-Why not have just let Carlos come in?? Now he might have a penalty? Surely that’s not good

-“Wake up guys! Come on!” Ughhh

-Why hasn’t Lando pit yet?

-I am still so annoyed about Ferrari. What are you doing??

-“His arch rival- nemesis really” The 2021 season was really one for the ages

-I love when Max knows when to play it safe

-George having so much time between him and p2 to pit

-How was I praising Ferrari strategy five seconds earlier?

-How many times are we going make a joke about Yuki’s airport incident? Please just shut up

-Okay Sauber, I had way too much faith in your pit stops there for a second

-If Merc pulls team orders I will scream

-“ All the traffic in one group behind Tsonoda” Why’d that make me laugh

-It’s so funny how I was saying this is giving old times, with a Merc 1-2 and Max p3

-Alonso!!

-Woah Checo! Let’s go! That’s was amazing!!

-“Do you want me to try and keep them behind or what?” “I think you should yeah”

-Still don’t get why Carlos is ahead there

-So confused about this whole Ferrari situation. What is going on?

-Like how is Carlos somehow helping Max cover off his teammate?

-Last five laps. I know we have this in the bag but I’m not trusting that car until it crosses the checkered flag

-“What a talent. What a team” LETS GO BABY

-“He picked his battles well” YES HE DID

-“It’s victory in Vegas” “That’s four in a row Max, four in a row” “Ohmygodd what a season”

-Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah

-“Vegas baby” I wonder if the baby George fan was awake to see this

-“Formation flying for Mercedes-Benz”

-“Never thought this was possible” The way he pulled through right when it was critical

-Yea!! 4! 4! 4! 4!

-Aw this team

-George and Max hugging! Yuki congratulating Max! Max and Fernando!!

-The other team mechanics nodding their head in acknowledgment>>>

-Aah so happy right now!!

-“I also have to go there?” He’s so cuteee

-“Oh he’s got his own car” Haha

-Max and GP!!

-“I think they got a little spoiled last year with the wins” 😭😭 MAX

-The chants of “Max, Max, Max” in the background>>>

-Ah I’m so so happy

[goodbyegoodsprings]

hiii just read your tags about the dynamic between your courier and benny and i'd like to say that was so beautiful and i really loved it! also very curious about what's gonna happen when she finds him

aWAHHH THANKU THAT MEANS A LOT TO MEE, get followed new friend!!! ANYWAY like I said in the dumb in depth tag thing She isn't sure what she's going to do, but I personally believe it depends on where they both are in their lives. For my courier taking over the strip was NEVER in her plans and it accidentally made her have to be responsible.

(5 min doodle bc I love u) So if Benny somehow settled down/became a family man in-between the events of him running off and my courier finding him then she might try to worm her way in - claim she's not opposed to "sharing" and insisting he move the whole family/SO back to New Vegas seeing as she's got it working better than ever - She'd gloat hard. If he insisted she scram I think things would get... Messier. How do you take all that from someone, give them a "legacy" and then have the gall to tell HER to scram? I think she'd take everything from him - fair is fair after all right? If he wants revenge, or closure, or ANYTHING he can hike his ass all the way back to the strip like she had to. God she would want him to - the worst case scenario here is he runs off again or just gives up so she might stack the deck a little. However if she just finds Benny in a pathetic hovel, or beaten down then all the better. How thrilling it would be to pull a gun on him and give him a: "Well isn't this just a 18-carat run of bad luck." Only to laugh and tell him it's all gonna be alright. She would love to play savior here. Bundle him up, get a robot to drag him from the mud and care for the poor little guy... It could get downright domestic/fluff when he's taken back to the strip. I think she has a soft spot for him even if he fails to "complete" her the way she thinks he can. He can't, but maybe it would help to have a flesh and blood friend/partner to talk to - if you let her she'd only communicate with robotic creatures for the rest of her time and stick to quick trysts that mean very little outside scratching an itch but with him it's different. This "Connection" is a big thing to her, an Achilles heel - so this time she might ask Benny something dangerous; "Hold me will ya?" And how well that goes is up to your interpretation of Benny. He might be a rat and try to steal the whole thing out from under her, or maybe he likes having her at his side - even if she can be a little unpredictable or emotionally driven. Maybe it's endearing, maybe he just thinks he can control that fire. Either way, they're fun to think about.

(Old art bc ily might toss a bunch of old Plat art on my art account just bc of this ask thanks again ;u:)

[papakhan]

A Khan’s death shroud. But rather than the white linen of the Followers, the Khans laid him to rest with his weapons. Shrouding the dead was something Luke had done many times at the Fort. It was a four-man job. To clean and dress the body. Luke imagined Jessup and McMurphy tucking a bottlecap into his cold palm, wrapping dead fingers around a knife that wasn't theirs. Kneeling to button his coat, like one might with a child on a cold night. He should have found it morbid. The thought of accomplices to his murder playing with his corpse like a doll after his death should have been grotesque. But he couldn’t help but feel cared for. Just the same for all the patients he had wrapped in white linen. The courier gig was supposed to be a break from the stress of emergency medicine. Luke Thorn is a man of science and healing, a man who knows the cold grip of death.

Hiii this is my latest fic and the First to star my courier. Jessup Companion Recruitment Fic!!

CW: Descriptions of death and deadly medical disease, medical procedures, blood and gore

Mirrored right here and on Toyhouse [6.6k words]

It was difficult to climb the rubble that was once Boulder City with hands raised and palms open, but when walking into an active hostage situation, one should not take any chances. Luke Thorn stumbled on the crumbling concrete and landed hard on his feet, the slap of his boots echoed through the broken buildings. A Khan with a hefty-looking automatic rifle shifted uneasily behind the twisted remains of an old-world bus stop. 

This was not a subject on the Follower’s Emergency Medical Training Programme, which Luke was starting to believe was an oversight. The Khan had her gun trained on him and watched him. Luke cleared his throat, unsure of what to say. ‘Hello’ felt redundant, but what else was there to say? ‘Good morning are you the fine fellows holding some soldiers hostage who may or may not have also shot me in the head some weeks back?’ Don’t be ridiculous. 

Luke licked his lips. The Khan had an eyepatch, something that should have made her distinctive. Still, she didn’t look especially familiar… but nobody did these days. As it turned out, taking a couple of bullets to the brain scrambled a few senses. But not so bad that Luke couldn’t see that the Khan was growing nervous. And nervous raiders with heavy weaponry only increased his chances of being shot. 

“Uh-- Hi!” Luke said, his voice pitching with his own apprehension, “Can I talk to the guy in charge, please?”

The Khan squinted at him, “Who are you?”

“Luke Thorn, EMT. I’m a Follower of the Apocalypse,” Used to be, at least. 

The Khan glanced away and towards a nearby building. If Luke had to guess, she was exchanging quiet words with another Khan. And if she was so confident to look away, there must be another Khan with a gun trained on him somewhere unseen. Comforting. 

“Come closer,” She said, eyes on him again, “Keep your hands up.”

Luke picked a careful path through the rubble. He eyed the buildings, looking for more Khans. One in the doorway, two on the roof, and another two further in the building. The last pair weren’t paying attention to him, they watched someone else. Hostages, if Luke had to guess. 

Bus-stop-Khan rose to her feet, her gun still pointed at Luke’s chest. She tossed her head in a direction and Luke walked in it, towards the only building still mostly intact. Inside was lit with dim lanterns burning oil. Years ago, this place was probably a shop, but now all that was left were countertops and bare shelves. Glass crunched under Luke’s boots as he was ushered inside. Behind the counter, a dirty curtain separated the once shop from what Luke could only assume were the storage rooms. It looked like the place had been hit with a bomb, and as far as Luke knew, it had been.  

“Jessup,” The Khan hissed into the dim, “We got a Follower here.” 

The tense stillness Luke had become accustomed to shattered. Someone groped at the curtains and whipped them away. Jessup, the man who stumbled out was all limbs, tall and trim, with pale freckled skin and bright ginger hair. He stared at Luke with the wide eyes of a wild animal. There were dark rings under those eyes, and what had once been a mohawk had particularly collapsed, some of it laying slick against Jessup’s forehead. An old instinct whispered to Luke, telling him to run. He ignored it. 

“What the fuck,” Jessup croaked, “You’re that courier…”

Ah. 

“Were you the one who shot me?” 

Jessup scrunched up his face and his lips parted in a sneer, revealing crooked white teeth, “I didn’t shoot you. That was that snake, Benny.”

Benny. That was the name Manny had mentioned. 

“Listen it’s-- fine. I don’t have a thing for faces anymore, just wanted to check I wasn’t talking to my murderer. Just-- an accomplice.”  

Jessup had a difficult face to read, or maybe that was just the head injury. His lips formed a thin line as he squinted at Luke across the room.

“I didn’t know you were a Follower,” He said, "Wouldn't of taken the job if I did."

The Followers and Khans were friends once. Luke had not been part of the medics sent to train the raiders in advance first aid and minor surgery. Too many emergency cases back at the Fort. But he knew Ezekiel, the man in charge of the relief efforts. Ezekiel had been most understanding of Luke's departure from the Followers. As enthusiastic as Ezekiel was about his job, even he felt the NCR's stranglehold on the region was beginning to impact their work. 

"I don't wear the coat these days," Luke muttered, "Let's forget about it for now. I want to help you guys out of here." 

“NCR knows our terms,” Jessup growled, “Look, I got a guy hurt back here. If he doesn’t get help he’ll die. What else am I supposed to do?”

“I’ll help him,” Luke felt the words come from his mouth before he could stop them.

There was a glassy shine to Jessup’s hazelnut eyes, Luke could see that even in the dim light of the broken room. He blinked rapidly and pursed his lips tight. Looked at Luke then looked away. Luke knew the feeling well. Knew it every day he worked in Old Mormon Fort. Stressed. Overwhelmed. About to break. 

“It’ll be okay,” Luke said, his hands still by his head, “I’ll help you.”

Finding a vein on the other Khan’s arm was as easy as breathing. McMurphy, the injured Khan, was a young man, strong. Good arms and good veins. Even in the dim light, Luke could feel where he was meant to go. Back in the Fort, he’d have another with him, a nurse or EMT, someone else to prepare the drugs. But he didn’t have that luxury here, just one anxious and suspicious raider hovering beside him. Luke slid the needle into McMurphy’s arm. 

He ran through medical checks in his mind. Airways, breathing, circulation. The first two were fine, the third. He’d been shot in the abdomen, close range. Jessup said the bullet came out the other side. They’d dressed the wound well and Luke didn’t dare disturb the white gauze. Could be anything. A high heart rate and low blood pressure indicated internal bleeding. Haemorrhage at best, perforated bowel at worst. At least with a haemorrhage, he could do something. And if he couldn’t the death would be quick, merciful, like falling asleep. Especially with the morphine the Khans had already given McMurphy. A perforated bowel though? Death by sepsis. A slow killer. Faeces would leak into the body, contaminating other organs. The mind would give way to infection, boil the body alive trying to fight it. Luke had seen it before, smelt the death of it. He dressed the cannula and reached for his bag. 

He had an IV bag of fluid meant for someone else. Julie would understand. Why are you doing this? He connected the line and held it to Jessup. 

“Hold this above your head,” Luke said.

Jessup did as he was told, looking for all the world like he had surrendered. Hands by his head, fear in his eyes. Luke caught him glance up at the bag, squint at the words on it. But he didn’t question. Didn’t fight. He watched the drip, drip, drip of the IV. 

“It’ll make your arm feel cold,” Luke warned a barely conscious McMurphy. He was going through the motions, a dance he’d done a hundred times before. Head injury or not, some things you did not forget. 

Luke rummaged in his bag again. Say it was a perforation. A cover of antibiotics wouldn’t save him, but it’d give them time. Time for what exactly? Luke didn’t think that far ahead. The man deserved a chance. All of them did. Luke’s fingers curled around a cold vial of powdered antibiotics. Why are you doing this?

“Has he had penicillin before?” Luke didn’t expect an answer.

“What?” Jessup asked, then shook his head, “I mean, yeah. I think. He broke his leg when we were kids, n’ the bone poked out his skin. They gave him some shit. Penicillin, I think.” 

Of course, the Khans and their drugs. Penicillin was simple enough to synthesise. It was an equal shot that this vial could be from Red Rock or Boneyard. Just the same as the morphine syringes littered on the floor. Luke shook his head. He tried not to think about how Jessup and McMurphy knew each other from childhood. 

“Right, good, because I don’t have anything else.” That was bad practice. Lots of people were allergic to penicillin. But what could you do?

 Luke mixed the penicillin with saline and shook the syringe. A yellowish goop formed inside as it sloshed and rolled. He pinched the IV line and pushed in his antibiotics. Give it slow, is what the textbooks said. Give it fast, screamed the world. 

“Why are you doing this?”

A question Luke thought he’d heard before. He frowned, “Do you want me to stop?” 

“No,” Jessup said, quick like he was afraid Luke would vanish into thin air, “No, I just-- Don’t get it.”

Luke didn’t have an answer, not a real one. Not one that made sense. Why? Because a long time ago Luke learnt that life was precious. Because no one deserved to die like this. Because he hated the NCR. Because this was the only way the Khans would accept their terms. He gave the answer he thought most acceptable, “I’m a Follower.”

Jessup wrinkled his nose and his grip on the IV bag wavered, “Followers left us to rot before now, that ain’t it.” 

Penicillin was best given over four minutes while watching carefully for any adverse reactions. Not that Luke had any adrenaline for an allergic reaction.

“I can’t leave when folks are hurting,” Luke said, watching McMurphy’s breathing, “Can’t ever turn my back. It’s why I left them.” 

“Left who?” 

Luke glanced at Jessup and knew that he knew. Jessup’s lips pressed into a line again. His eyes looked like glass marbles. Shiny and smooth. He was wary. Of course he was. Luke felt like he had no control over his mouth. He’d always bickered, always kicked back before. But never talked himself in circles like this before. He decided it best to answer the unasked question.

“I left because-- I couldn’t take it anymore. The stress got to me. But I know what I’m doing.” 

Jessup was quiet. He watched McMurphy. The steady rise and fall of his chest. Luke could talk himself into believing that breathing was steadying. That IV fluids and antibiotics would save a life that night. But fate was never so kind. Luke eyed the bandages poking out under McMurphy’s leathers, blood kissed through the layers of off-white. 

“We buried you like a Khan, you know,” Jessup said. 

Luke shuddered. What was the saying? Like someone walked over his grave? His eyes trailed from McMurphy to Jessup. Those eyes were on him again, shiny and wet. Luke looked away and watched his antibiotics. 

“How so?” He asked.

“Knife in your hand, gun on your hip, caps in your pocket and one in your palm. We untied you too. And I buttoned your coat,” Jessup’s voice sounded dreamlike as if recounting hazy memories. He huffed a humourless laugh, “It’s so you have shit with you in case you come back.”

Luke’s frown only deepened, “Do your dead do that often?”

“Once. It was an old story.”

A Khan’s death shroud. But rather than the white linen of the Followers, the Khans laid him to rest with his weapons. Shrouding the dead was something Luke had done many times at the Fort. It was a four-man job. To clean and dress the body. Luke imagined Jessup and McMurphy tucking a bottlecap into his cold palm, wrapping dead fingers around a knife that wasn't theirs. Kneeling to button his coat, like one might with a child on a cold night. He should have found it morbid. The thought of accomplices to his murder playing with his corpse like a doll after his death should have been grotesque. But he couldn’t help but feel cared for. Just the same for all the patients he had wrapped in white linen. Even those who came to the Fort with no one, those who died with Luke as their only company. He couldn’t help but feel warm hands on his cold skin. Feel the attention and care of the Khans who thought of their stories and prepared him for the cold earth like he was one of them. 

“We should have just scared you. That’s what I wanted to do, what I told Benny to do. Rob you, scare you, let you go. But Benny wanted you dead. Called you a loose end. Should have known he’d think we were loose ends too.” 

Luke didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. Nothing sensible. Nothing that made sense. He pushed through the rest of the antibiotics and unpinched the IV line. The fluid dripped through again. 

“That’s all I can do for now.”

Jessup chewed his lip. 

"So what happens now? Is he gonna live?" 

Probably not. 

Luke sucked on his teeth, "He'll still need a clinic, at least. Even just to stabilise him before Old Mormon Fort-- or Red Rock." 

"There was a doctor in Novac," Jessup said. 

Novac was a lot closer than any Follower outposts Luke knew off-hand. In theory, it was the best idea. But if Ada Stratus had been a doctor anywhere Luke had worked, he probably would have strangled her. Medical know-how was only half the story, but no one should trust a doctor who couldn't respect her patients. If they took McMurphy to her, Luke would probably find himself performing surgery on Manny Vargas' kitchen table. 

Surgery was a bad idea at this stage. If it wasn't a perforation, cutting into him would only risk more bleeding. And with Ada Stratus at the helm, probably a risk of her slicing into his bowel. Luke looked down at McMurphy's dressing. IV fluids could bulk out blood lost from a haemorrhage, but they were no replacement for a blood transfusion. Luke couldn't see himself trusting any blood products from Ada either. He would have to go with them to keep the so-called doctor from doing anything dangerous.

"You guys know your blood types?" 

Jessup peeled back McMurphy's jacket. There were off-white patches stitched to the inside, each scrawled with seemingly random information. A date, some map coordinates, and some words Luke didn't recognise. One square of fabric proudly read "AB+". Luke thanked whichever Follower doctor or medic had the patience to teach the Khans drugs and medicine. 

"Think it's that," Jessup said sheepishly, tapping the square. He pulled back his own jacket and read what Luke assumed was his own stitched patch, "Mine ain't the same." 

"Doesn't matter, your friend is a universal receiver. He can have any blood." 

"Great, he can have mine," Jessup looked hopeful, half a smile on his face, "Let's do it now."

"Let's get out of a hostage situation first," Luke said. 

Jessup's face fell and his eyes darted around, remembering himself. 

"I ain't surrendering, Murph' needs help and that soldier will let him die." 

"He needs to get out of this building, soldier or not," Staying here was a death sentence, but giving up your only bargaining chip probably felt like one too, "I helped you now you help me. Let me take the hostages and I'll negotiate with the NCR." 

Trust me, please. Don't make this any harder. 

Jessup's mouth formed that thin line again. His fingers drummed on the IV bag. Luke watched him consider it, weigh up his options. His pink tongue licked his chapped lips. He watched McMurphy's breathing. Please. 

"All right, take the hostages," Jessup hissed through his teeth. His brown eyes looked hard at Luke, "You better make sure NCR keeps their end of the deal, though."

If they didn't, those fluids and antibiotics would have gone to waste, Luke thought but did not speak. 

*

“I repeat. All troops, stand down,” Lieutenant Monroe’s voice crackled through the radio one of the troopers wore as Luke passed by them again, “Let the Khans pass with the Follower.”

The troops grumbled and glared out from under their helmets but they held their guns loose, just waiting for an excuse to draw them. At least they were obedient. Monroe had been more reasonable than Luke had expected, but at the same time all too quick to dismiss the Khan's situation. Sometimes it’s better to call a win a win and Luke was grateful Monroe understood that. 

McMurphy was in no state to walk-- or really even be upright-- but right now Luke and the Khans did not possess the luxury of choice. He was awake enough to keep his head up. But whether from the morphine or the blood loss, not awake enough to keep his legs moving. Luke, with IV bag in hand, trotted beside Jessup and bus-stop-Khan, who Luke found was called Destiny, who half carried, half dragged McMurphy through the rubble. 

Half of all bowel perforations end in death, even with treatment. Luke had been taught long ago that if someone was to die, they should be made comfortable, not dragged halfway across the wasteland. Even if it wasn’t a perforation, all this movement could dislodge the clots holding in blood, and he could haemorrhage again. Luke hadn’t thought of that before insisting they move. But he couldn’t turn his back. Part of him always fought. Always hoped. 

Novac was a three-hour walk but a half-hour drive. The Khans had their motorbikes, the things they were famed for. The how and why of their ability to outpace Luke and his delivery of the platinum chip. According to Jessup, they were hidden just before the 188.

“Benny said he wanted to walk from there, be less conspicuous, he said,” Jessup huffed, spitting every symbol of conspicuous, “Didn’t get why. Now I know. Was so he could shoot McMurphy and run without us catching him.”

“He’s fast?” Luke asked.

“Didn’t need to be,” Jessup said, adjusting McMurphy’s arm around his shoulders as they walked, “He fired at those soldiers and ran at them like he was running from us. Like we’d fired at them.”

Luke did not want to admit Benny was smart but even he had to admit there was some serious forethought in that move. Conniving might be a better word. It seemed he was a little too reliant on the killing power of a 9mm pistol. Seemed to have a little too many enemies left alive.

Not that Luke felt like Benny’s enemy. He couldn’t even remember his face. But he had to find him. Even if it was just to ask him ‘why?’. Why was his life so meaningless? So easy to throw away? Why did so many have to die for some fancy old-world collectable? And then maybe he’d shake him. Or slap him. Or kill him. Luke did not enjoy the thought but it crept into his mind regardless.

“Bet he’s back at the Strip by now, laughing at me,” Jessup growled.

Being left unable to recognise Benny was a significant disadvantage, no matter what Luke planned on doing with him when they finally crossed paths again. If Benny recognised him, there was no telling what he’d do. Having someone around who knew his face, knew not to trust him, would be helpful.

“I’m going after Benny,” Luke said, eyeing Jessup for a reaction, “I’d appreciate the company.”

Jessup barely reacted at all, eyes hard and straight ahead, “One thing at a time. I ain’t losing another brother to that snake.”

Luke squeezed the last of the fluid through the IV line, trying not to feel the fool for being spurned, “Alright, that’s fair enough. I’ll stick with you till he’s stable but after that…”

“We’ll talk,” Jessup said, “Revenge can always wait.”

The rest of Jessup’s crew crowded up ahead in the shade of a burnt-out old world building. Luke counted six all together, including Jessup, McMurphy and Destiny. They hauled their motorbikes out from under covers and sheets of metal and other impromptu hiding places. Luke was relieved to spot one of the bikes had a sidecar. 

“If the NCR found these, they’d confiscate them.” One of the Khans said to Luke, as they together shuffled McMurphy into the sidecar, “Weapons of war, they call them.”

It was a sentiment Luke could understand. The 80s ruled Utah with these machines for a reason. Luke knew very well. He’d personally felt the fear the Khans evoked by chasing down targets.

Like the NCR’s vertibirds or power armour. It didn’t justify confiscating them, but Luke could understand why. 

“How you holding up, ‘Murph?” Jessup asked.

McMurphy adjusted his position, trying to get comfortable, and his arms shook with the effort. Luke winced. A sheen of sweat on McMurphy’s skin shone under the sun. He didn’t look well. But he was awake, at least. 

“What’s going on?” McMurphy managed, his voice small and hollow. Luke hoped he was just confused from drifting in and out of consciousness, and not the start of a septic infection. 

“We’re going back to Novac,” Jessup threw a long leg over the bike’s leather saddle and pounded his foot against the kickstart. The motorbike roared to life and Luke felt the rumble deep in his chest.

And just like that, he was back. Back to that night. Luke had just spotted the humble glow of Goodsprings in the distance when he heard that rumble in the dark. The distant growl of engines creeping closer. He’d panicked. He’d run. But running from a machine like that was always futile. Easier to outrun a charging bull. The slap of his boots on the ground was drowned out by the roaring engines of the Khans bike. Then it was the cemetery. And then…

“Hey doctor guy, you with us?” 

Jessup stared at him from behind the handlebars. Luke blinked. He had half a kind to correct him. Tell Jessup and the other Khans that he wasn't a doctor, that he was more like a glorified paramedic or emergency nurse. But he knew that was no comfort. No reason make these people doubt him. Especially considering what they'd already done to him. 

But Luke thought of his grave again. His death shroud. He chewed his lip. 

Luke had never ridden a motorbike before. He’d straddled a horse before and had sat in the back of a jeep once. This felt like a blend of the two. The engine shuddered into his thighs as the machine roared beneath him. The Mojave whipped past with the wind as they flew across the baked earth, he and Destiny. Luke squinted hard into the sharp winds, wishing he’d pulled the goggles out of his bag to better enjoy the view. Though he wasn’t sure if ‘enjoy’ would be the right word. He held onto Destiny even though she had told him not to. But what else was there to hold onto? Luke tried at least to be tasteful and hold onto her jacket rather by his fingers than wrap his hands around her waist. 

It was a rush he'd never felt before. No sound but the wind. No smell but the air. Nothing to see except the blur of yellow orange earth and blue sky all around. And it was over before Luke had time to process it. 

The air he’d felt on the bike couldn’t have been more different than the air caught inside Manny Vargas’ apartment. Hot and suffocating. It fell on Luke like a blanket the second he’d stepped inside. The fan spinning lazily overhead did nothing to alleviate any of the five people inside. Luke felt the sticky warmth of his sweat-soaked shirt begin to stick to his back.

Manny Vargas had spotted them through his scope. Heard them too most likely. Luke watched the way Manny fumbled with his keys in panic, tossing the door open and ushering them all inside. He had insisted on McMurphy taking his bed, tried to comfort him with fluttering, loving hands while Jessup ran for the doctor. Like with Jessup and McMurphy sharing a childhood, Luke tried not to think about the way Manny had cupped McMurphy's face. Luke politely ignored the tears Manny scrubbed from his eyes. These men were close. All of them.

When the doctor arrived, Manny ushered most of the Khans outside. Left Luke alone with McMurphy, Jessup, and Doctor Straus' entourage.

“I mean Jesus, he looks half dead,” Ada Straus said, “This is gonna be expensive, you know that, right?”

Of course, the conversation did nothing to make Luke sweat any less. Jessup sat beside McMurphy, sprawled out in Manny’s bed, “How much?” 

“One hundred caps, at least.” 

“You haven’t even looked at him,” Luke hissed.

“I’m looking at him right now!” Ada threw her hands out, “It’s gonna be a lot of work! And a lot of my supplies!”

“As I’ve already explained: he’s been shot, he’s cannulated, and he’s had fluids, antibiotics and analgesia. He is of a universal blood group and we have one willing blood donor,” Luke explained, rapidly losing patience, “That’s at least half of what you’d be using.”

“Yeah, that hundred caps was a discount! I was gonna charge you two hundred!”

Luke rolled his eyes so hard his head hurt. Ada’s two guards shifted uncomfortably in the small room. While Manny had insisted that the other Khans give everyone some space, the room was still cramped with furniture and spare mattresses. The heat was starting to get to all of them.

“Just-- look at the wound and tell me if he needs surgery or not.” If the answer was ‘yes’ Luke would encourage the Khans to take McMurphy elsewhere for the procedure. 

Ada folded her arms across her chest, “Second opinions cost seventy-five caps.”

“Are you serious?” Luke snapped.

“You better stop fucking with us, lady,” Jessup spoke through gritted teeth. 

Luke watched Ada’s guards exchange a wary look behind her back. The younger of the two looked no older than twenty. His scruffy facial hair and pockmarked skin fought valiantly to make him look older, but it was clear to Luke that he was a teenager. The other guard could have been four times the boy’s age. Old but skilled, Luke did not doubt that between the two of them, they could protect Ada well against whatever got past Manny’s sniper scope. But here in this room, they were on edge. Luke could see that. And it didn’t take him long to realise why. Luke’s eyes trailed from them to Jessup, hunched over the bed like a coiled snake, glaring out at Ada from under a scowl. 

Ada was undeterred, “I’m not fucking with you. Frankly, you two are fucking with me! I’ve gotta make a living here.”

Luke glanced at Jessup. There was a gun strapped to his thigh, some shotgun-type thing, and another thrown over his back. His hand was a fist on the bed. Fighting Ada would be pointless. It would destroy Manny Vargas’ reputation, for one, and if Jessup killed her, it would mean the town would lose its one medical provider. No matter how deplorable Luke believed her to be, stripping the town of the one person who could treat radiation sickness and seemingly supplied the med-x would be a bad idea. 

“Now let’s all just-- calm down,” Luke attempted his best Julie Farkas impression, raising his hands passively.

Ada huffed through her nose. Jessup did not move. The guards didn’t either.

“I’ll give you the caps just please--”

“You ain’t giving her shit,” Jessup was on his feet and across the room in less than a second. 

The young guard raised his gun in warning. Jessup smacked the pistol from his hands. A shot fired harmlessly into Manny’s carpet. Jessup loomed over Ada as her guards backed into the door. The older guard held his arm protectively in front of the younger.

Jessup had been sat down so long Luke had forgotten how tall he was. How his spiked hair only made him look bigger. Luke bit the inside of his cheek as he stood, heart in his throat, unsure of what to do or say to de-escalate things.

“You guys alright in there?” Manny’s voice drifted from outside, alerted by the gunfire. 

“Fine,” Jessup said.

He leaned down to Ada until his face was inches from hers and growled. 

“If he dies because you didn’t do shit, I’m gonna kill you.” 

Luke believed it. He didn't want Ada dead but he believed Jessup. He would kill her. 

Ada gaped at him. Luke could see her mind working. Watched her squirm under the Khan's gaze. She glanced in the direction of her guards. Back at Jessup. Worked her mouth but made no sound. Evidently, the guards were not paid enough to mess with Khans. 

"Jesus Christ, fine!" Ada said, "I'll take a look."

Luke chewed his lip as Jessup stepped aside, a silent order for Ada to move. She shot a glare at Luke that he barely registered. Then she approached McMurphy on the bed. Jessup followed, stalking behind with a hand on his shotgun. Ada gingerly raised her hands, flexed her fingers and reached for McMurphy's skin. Then she stopped herself, pulling back and digging in her bag. She produced a dusty pair of gloves and Luke remembered himself. 

"There's a sink," Luke said. 

Ada sighed. She shot a pointed look at Jessup, who swung his head towards Luke and then back to Ada. 

"Go on then, I ain't gonna shoot you."

Yet. Luke felt the silent threat. 

Ada washed her hands in Manny’s sink and Luke followed suit. Jessup loomed over Ada as she worked. 

“I’m gonna poke you,” She said to McMurphy, who squinted suspiciously back at her, “So don’t let your friend kill me.”

McMurphy was more awake than he had been earlier, perhaps from the morphine wearing off. He lifted his arm and peeled back his jacket, presenting the bloody gauze to her.

Ada prodded at McMurphy’s skin, pushing from the wound at first and then moving closer to it. McMurphy groaned when she pressed close to his wound. Luke knew what she was doing. Feeling for swelling, distended abdomens filled with blood or the contents of one’s intestines could be felt from the outside. As she worked, Luke felt compelled to do something too. He pulled his manual blood pressure kit from his bag and started performing his vital signs. He wrapped the cuff around McMurphy’s arm and hooked the stethoscope into his ears before pumping the cuff full of air and taking his measurements. McMurphy’s blood pressure was higher than before, so the fluids had done their job at least for now. His heart rate still ran high, but small steps.

“How are you feeling, McMurphy?” Luke asked.

“Like shit,” McMurphy answered.

More aware of himself than he had been before, in Luke’s medical opinion. He felt that he could safely rule out any shock-induced confusion for the time being. Ada poked around some more before peeling carefully back the blood-stained dressing. Luke held his breath, waiting for blood to start gushing. But to his relief, the wound did nothing more than ooze a sticky deep red of half-congealed blood. Ada raised the gauze to her face and inspected it, then lowered her head to the wound. 

“I don’t think it’s a perf.” She said, leaning away to dig through her bag. 

“How so?” 

“Doesn’t smell like shit.” 

Luke had to admit, he hadn’t considered that line of thinking before. He wasn’t entirely sure it was accurate, but it made sense in the moment. 

“That’s good?” McMurphy asked, staring at the ceiling. 

“It’s one thing. The bullet could have hit something else. A kidney, an artery, maybe even the spleen if yours is in a weird place.”

Kidneys and spleens hadn’t been on Luke’s mind either. He chewed his lip. 

Ada produced a penlight from her bag and shone it above McMurphy’s wound, “What kinda peashooter was this?” 

“9mm.” Jessup groused.

Ada dabbed at the blood by the bullet wound and McMurphy hissed through his teeth and batted her away. Ada tutted. 

“Would you just man up, please?” 

Luke jumped in before Ada could say anything else she might regret, “Don’t you have any local?”

Ada stared at him, eyebrows furrowed, “Local what?”

Luke stared back at her incredulously, “Local anaesthetic?” 

“Oh. For an examination?”

It was going to be a long night.

*

A full course of antibiotics; some stitches or staples; tranexamic acid; some kind of scan; and possible surgery. Dr Ada Strauss’ prognosis and recommendations were equal parts helpful and unhelpful. Luke was just grateful that she didn’t further anger the Khans by asking for payment. She had more antibiotics and some tranexamic acid, which Manny Vargas paid for. But McMurphy still needed a clinic. Not Luke and not Ada. A real doctor and a real clinic. The Followers were their only choice.

And of course, the Khans did it without question. Luke had to admire the commitment to their kin, if nothing else. 

At this point, Luke felt it was his duty to see it all through. Though he desperately did not want to visit the Old Mormon Fort. The New Vegas Medical Clinic was closer, anyhow. 

They’d arrived before sundown, their path illuminated by the fire-orange sky. Doctor Usanagi needed no prompting before getting to work. Questions of payment were answered with a handwave and “we’ll figure it out later.”

Now the sun had set and the sky was alight once more with the glow of Vegas’ city. An artificial, glaring light that cast harsh shadows all around. The stars up above struggled to gain purchase against the unwavering neon city.

McMurphy had been in the theatre for an hour by the time Luke found Jessup. Shrouded by the dark of night, he sat cross-legged on the roof of the clinic, a squashed cigarette pressed between his lips. White smoke curled from his mouth and floated up to the sky as Jessup picked at his leather boots with the tip of his knife. 

“I shoulda listened to you,” Jessup called down from the roof, and it took Luke a moment to realise he was the one being spoken to, “About that Novac doctor.”

“Oh,” Luke said. What else could he say? ‘Told you so’ hardly felt prudent, “Hey, we’re here now, right? That’s what matters.”

Jessup snorted. 

There was no response save for the gentle ‘tink’ of Jessup’s knife as he picked a stone from the sole of his boot. Luke waited before he realised Jessup was done talking. He stuffed his hands in his pocket, trying to think of something comforting to tack on.

“Doctor Usanagi is a great doctor. I used to work with her.”

“Still don’t get why you’re doing this.”

Luke wasn’t any closer to the answer himself. He shrugged his shoulders, “It’s the right thing to do.”

Jessup unfurled himself, plucking the cigarette from his lips and letting his long legs hang over the roof of the clinic. In the pale moonlight, Jessup’s thin face appeared all the more gaunt. Like a ghost of a man. The hours of stress had not been kind to the man. He squinted down at Luke, nose wrinkled.

“So why you going after Benny?” Jessup asked, “You care so much about doing the right thing, whatever that means. If the right thing is helping ‘Murph n’ me, ain’t the right thing to do to let him go?”

“That’s different.”

“How?” 

It just is. “I just want to know why he did it.”

Jessup studied Luke from his perch. His face ever unreadable.

“It was ‘cause you had the package. Don’t think it was personal.”

Luke knew he was only trying to be helpful, but Jessup’s assessment of the situation only tied knots in Luke’s stomach. But why? But why?

“But why!? For some kitschy poker chip? It doesn’t make sense. I just…” Luke sighed, deflated, “I don’t know.”

Jessup sucked on his teeth and brought one knee up to his chest, propping his arm up on it. He wasn’t very good at sitting still, “Who were you delivering to?”

Luke had read the receipt so many times he had it memorised, “I was supposed to meet someone at the entrance to The Strip. I don’t know who, just some ‘agent’ at the checkpoint.”

“Makes sense he’d want you gone in Goodsprings, then,” Jessup said, “‘Murph figured Benny stole that chip from his boss.”

“His… boss? Wait, who is Benny?”

“He’s some big shot on the Strip, part of the Chairmen,” Jessup waved a hand dismissively, sending ash from his cigarette fluttering to the ground, “‘Murph said he must be stealing from his boss, otherwise, he’d of robbed you in Freeside. Wanted to be so far away no one could snitch.”

Luke didn’t frequent the Strip, only Freeside. He wasn’t familiar with the gangs who ran it. ‘Chairmen’ meant nothing to him. Jessup continued. 

“Chairmen used to be like us, like Khans. Last I heard they were run by a guy named Bingo. Heard someone killed him though, dunno who's in charge anymore.”

Luke scrubbed his stubbly face, the unshaved hairs biting into his palms. This was becoming more and more complex. Benny was somebody important. Somebody near inaccessible. Both physically by the wall that separated the Strip from the rest of the world, and by status. But the need for answers burned in his chest. And this conversation wasn’t helping any. What Luke needed was a plan. Something to focus on, now that McMurphy was out of his hands.

“What if we tell Benny’s boss?”

Jessup’s laugh came like a hiss of air through grinning teeth.

“We? Are you asking a Khan to snitch?”

When you put it like that… Luke faltered, bunching his hands into fists, “How else would we-- would I catch him?”

“Find ‘im, bust his head. Simple.”

“I don’t do faces anymore, remember?” Luke shook his head, “An-- and he’s on the Strip. You said he’s important. I doubt w-- I could just walk up to him like that.” 

Jessup sucked on the last glowing embers of his cigarette. He blow out smoke and stared at the ground. Then at the roof and then at the sky, pouting all the while like a petulant child.

It was then Luke was struck by how young Jessup looked. Not a young man by any means, not nearly as young as Ada’s guard, but not the grizzled mercenary-raider type of Khan plastered on NCR wanted posters back West. Sketches that depicted their horned helmets as if the horns were part of their skull.

“Squealing to one suit ‘bout another,” Jessup scrunched up his nose, “Benny gets disappeared and another suit takes his place. Not the type of revenge I’d want.”

That pricked Luke’s ears just enough, “So you do want revenge.”

“Never said I didn’t,” Jessup said, “I just wanna know if I’m gonna get your knife in my back.”

Luke thought of his burial. His death shroud. 

“I wouldn’t.” 

Jessup hummed as he took one last drag of his cigarette and ground it out on the roof., “No, I don’t think you would.”

“Does that mean you’re coming with me?”

“I gotta focus on ‘Murph now. But I’ll find you in Freeside. Here--” 

Jessup produced a square of silver from inside his jacket. It glinted in the moonlight. He tossed it down to Luke in a carefully telegraphed motion. To his own surprise, Luke caught the hunk of metal, warmed by the heat of Jessup’s body. A lighter.

“It’s Benny’s. Shove it up his ass if you catch him before me.”

[capitalisticveins]

This isn't happening and I don't think anybody would write this but thinking abt Elliott's recent BA and it had me thinking abt Ivan and Baby after their memory wipe...

warning: kinda long post might clog ur timeline idk

Elliott spoke about how even though they "haven't" been apart, his body and mind still missed Sunshine like crazy, meaning parts of him KNOWS something's wrong, he just can't place it, and he doesn't know how to feel about it.

So imagine how it feels for Ivan and Baby

Ivan shouldn't necessarily feel different. his body wasn't affected by what happened, and he has a plausible alibi for everything. Everyone knows he was in Dahlia, and he still made an effort to be around people during Baby's kidnapping.

But Baby??? LMAO

Their body changed physically, their hair grew longer than how they'd normally keep it, and lets not talk about their physical state. But most importantly? Their alibi. It was said that even though Baby was given false memories to excuse their time under Ivan's control, their family and friends don't buy most of it. It didn't make sense that they disappeared for a year, ghosted everyone, and suddenly came back like nothing ever happened. They don't understand it, and the people they love don't believe them. But it's the truth, right?

Are they truly okay? Their mind and mental state was royally FUCKED while they were with Ivan, so hearing that they're perfectly fine, meanwhile Sunshine and Elliott both feel very off after the memory modification is crazy to me.

Vega once said Ivan wasn't the only one he fed from, he also fed on Baby and their feelings of violence and wanting to hurt Ivan for all he's done to them, so what if these feelings, these tendencies still remained?

What if Baby randomly felt really violent, negative, or clawed at their skin feeling as if they're dirty and need to get something out of their body? What if they wanted to hurt something or someone SO bad they scared themselves? Imagine they would ghost their friends for days at a time because they feared they'd hurt someone from how prevalent in their blood this feeling was.

Imagine they catch a glimpse of someone who kind of LOOKS like Ivan and nearly FUCKING LOSES IT. They have goosebumps and they want to jump out of their skin, their eyes swell with tears, and their fists clench and nearly make themselves bleed. They want to rush at this man and pummel his face in, they want to strangle him until his lungs burst from the pressure, they want to bury him alive and watch as he suffocates, it's scary. They want him to feel how they felt every second in that...that what? What are they talking about? How could they possibly think about this from some random stranger? They can't breathe and they don't know why. They don't know why they want to hurt this man, they don't even know him!

In the end they'd freeze up like always, and their friends would have to take them home as they sob and panic for seemingly no reason. What would happen after this? Would they ever hang out with their friends again? Their friend group already avoided them before they "went away", would that happen again? Why is this happening? Who was that guy?

"What's wrong with me?"

Of course I could be wrong, I just made this for fun, just writing angst for where angst has been cured lol

[joons]

i finally got to see reinventing elvis, and a detail that really broke my heart was how steve binder described the first time the special was screened for elvis. with the memphis mafia in the room, the room was quiet because elvis wasn't saying anything, and no one would respond until they knew what elvis' thoughts were. after the screening, elvis asked everyone to leave except him and steve, and he immediately relaxed and watched the whole thing again, enthusing to steve about everything they'd managed to achieve, laughing and cheering and clapping for the crew and himself. i--

one thing that draws me so much to elvis and his story is this idea of your identity becoming fractured, how you always have to see yourself through the eyes of an audience. for elvis, his first audiences during childhood were his bullies and his mother. for everyone else, he slipped under the radar, until music gave him the strength to be himself. that uncertainty and anxiety that came from revealing yourself to others never left him and became worse the more his music became the way to protect his mother and family from poverty forever. he had to choose between providing for others and expressing himself. and if a bully or a critic didn't have what it took to silence him, then his own need to protect and nurture others did. just knuckle down, make the bad movie, take care of everyone who depends on you. and as his fame grew, the audiences he needed to protect and please grew more numerous and varied; they were teenage girls and mini-rockers who thought he'd sold out in the army and distinguished vegas crowds and politicians and his friends who were also employees who were also snitching to the colonel. not only is it a panopticon existence, but there's nowhere to rest without gladys, no single person he can shelter his complete self inside. he would share his feelings only if he trusted that you wouldn't laugh or be cruel. and it was very difficult to keep track of what parts of him each audience liked, whether he was allowed to cry in front of these guys, whether they'd laugh at him for knowing classical music, whether his interests would bore someone to tears. he couldn't tell them how important this special was to him, how relieved and proud he was of it. because that relief and pride felt too fragile to be shared except with the person beside him that he knew felt it too. (binder talked about how miserably nervous he was because he was having his own doubts about whether what he'd made was any good at all.)

i wonder if that was part of why he loved giving other people his time. that one-on-one connection gave others HIS audience, a happy one, where he could reassure them and take pride in them and build them up in a way he very rarely got back. he did stuff like that all the time, praying with people, giving them advice, sharing private jokes, asking about their lives. it's like he was taking in all the criticism and all the love he might get from his own audiences and reflecting it back very gently on someone else, just the two of them, so they knew he was being sincere, hoping someone would bridge that connection with him, that they would realize they didn't have to "act" for him, so he could let his guard down too, even just for a moment. he didn't ask for much more, but he deserved that full feeling of safety and belonging.

[bi-force-1]

Fallout London First Impressions/Semi-Organized Thoughts

Things I'm not a fan of;

The female player character combat sounds, while not the worst I've ever heard, are bad to the point of distraction at times. I was streaming it for some friends and we broke out in laughter at various points because of how unnatural they sound. Don't know what the male sounds are like yet.

Biggest complaint though, the choice to freeze the player in place during important 'cut scenes.' At two points early in the game, a mysterious agent talks to you and does your basic mysterious exposition talk stuff. I assume it's to prevent you missing these moments, but by the level design I kind of already can't.

In both cases you can't proceed anyways because the agent has to unlock doors for you. It felt less egregious in the hallway because I wasn't sure what was about to happen and it was a small space with nothing to see anyways. The second time in the atrium got on my nerves though. Here's this huge space I could be exploring while the agent talks at me through some big tv screens, but instead I am stuck waiting.

Bugs I've encountered;

Churchill the dog companion. Nice guy. His footsteps are absurdly loud. It's like there's a small horse stomping around near my head. I assume this is not intended hence filing it under bugs, but I was forced to leave him behind because of it.

Beware ye who try to fast travel. Seems prone to causing crashes so always save before you try. I also crashed twice when taking the train out of the starting area into the main world.

There's a sequence on a boat. It seemed like the boat got stuck for a moment and then I fell through it into highly radioactive water and died.

Things I'm enjoying

Honestly, pretty much all of it.

I can't really help but compare it to New Vegas' relationship to Fallout 3. Where 3 and 4 have their drawn out intros, in New Vegas and London you wake up in front of some doctors. Pick your face, states, and traits, and bing bang boom you're on the move soon after trying to figure out who you are and who did this to you. Oh yeah, much like New Vegas, they brought back traits again. The perk system also got reworked/reskinned to be closer to how it was before 4 as well.

The world building especially though. After spending so much time being frustrated at Bethesda for not seeming to think very deeply about the ways the East Coast might be different from the West Coast, it's so nice to see all the thought put into how things would be different in Britain. Using tickets from the Underground as currency. Ion Brew as the local soda of choice. London Ghouls I believe prefer to go by the term Commuter? Viewing the term ghoul much the same way US Ghouls view zombie it seems. Though I've only heard that from one ghoul so far.

The ATTA-Boy is especially cute. A handheld version of the Pip-Boy that was reverse engineered off of scavenged/stolen Roboco Pip-Boys.

I've gotten myself involved in some kind of gang turf war. Can't wait to see where that goes.

Also the array of local creatures they've made is great. The giant leeches are awful, good job guys. Radshrews, giant ladybugs, mangy foxes. The Fish People. Can't wait to see what else is out there.

Last thought, Greenwich Footbridge was a horrifying experience (positive). Nothing like being trapped in a flooded tunnel full of ghouls.

[pasteloctoz]

Redacted what ifs- Hero AU shitposting

might bring this series back i still need to write up mafia solaire clan.

They have the same powers as they do in the base universe, and unempowered people barely know about empowered people apart from heroes and villains, and D.U.M.P. is a corrupt government that controls people from reaching their true magical potential or whatever.

● DAMN Crew

-Vigilante Freelancer

Feel like Freelancer would initially be some kinda low level villainbc of how they were brought up, but then they meet Caelum and try to do more good than bad.

-Goofy Sidekick Caelum (i miss him so much)

Caelum would be Freelancer's gauge between good and bad. They'd probably become dependent on him at some point because they don't want to loose their temper.

-Hero Gavin

Gavin and FL have a complicated relationship initially and then find out abt eachothers identities and fall in love.

Also Gavin is probably the furthest thing from a hero he's just chillin with the lifestyle mandated by the corrupt government tbh.

Like he knows the government is bad but nothing compares to his life on Aria (forgot how to spell it)

-Support hero Lasko

Lasko is a support hero because of his relationship with Gavin.

-Civilian Damien

-Civilian Huxley

Lasko, Damien, and Hux are less involved in hero life bc they don't know about Caelum. Not to mention I like the idea of people who don't know about someone's trauma helping the person through it.

-Villain Vega

Hes more of a Vigilante but specifically for demon kind (i think ive barely listened to his audios) but in general hes a villain from FL's POV (cus he hurt caelum)

-Hero & Rival Kody

He's not enough of a bad guy to be a villain but he is enough of a parasite to frequent cameos in FL's routine.

● Shaw Pack

-Freelance Hero David

He takes jobs for money, and is indifferent to politics unless it effects his pack.

-Civilian Angel

Genuinely thought Davey was a normal guy (except for the moodyness n shifting). When they find out its about a year into the relationship and Angel isn't having any of that shit. Of course David told them about him being a shifter after a while but not THIS. Safe to say they'd be angry for a while.

-Civilian Asher

He's Davey's chairman, just cannot realistically be a full time hero because its too boring for him. Though he will help David any chance he gets.

Also probably the quipiest mother fucker ever-

-Civilian Baabe

They'd find out about Asher and Davey waaay before Angel and probably keep the secret too. Angel would be real hurt but heal a lot faster with Baabe.

-Hero Sweetheart

-Anti-Hero Milo

He definitely has SH realize the realities of government shit or whatever

Also Davey and Asher know about Milo being an Anti-Hero they just don't give a shit 😭

(I've lost all knowledge of what the fuck is going on with the vamps so im not caught up)

● Solaire Clan

-Support hero Sam

-Vigilante Darlin'

They're kinda on the run after getting a bit too violent with a villain. Then found out that the government is protecting certain villains because of the money they get if they do.

-Villain Quinn

Yes, the villain darlin' got too violent with is Quinn, who tf else would it be?

-Civilian Lovely

They'd still be a civilian after finding out they have magic, despite the government pushing them to be a hero. Although, they'd probably help a lot more after turning.

Another thing- the letters from the government asking lovely to be a hero would stop after their turning. They'd probably be even more angry when realizing that than when the government harassed them. Probably resulting in a breakdown and them thinking theyre worthless now.

-Hero Figure head Vincent

I don't think Vinnie would get too much into action unless absolutely needed.

-Hero Adam

Adam would've been a hero but gave into his cravings when lovely came around looking for vincent. But he wouldve been pushing his hero reputation a lot, if anyone knew of him before he died for good, they would've said hes a terrible hero.

-Hero Alexis

I dont think i need to say more, she'd still be on thin ice after sam's turning, though.

[mysteroads]

Chapter 8: Epilogue

Summary: The shopping trip comes to an end, and several important conversations are had.

Excerpt:

The quiet came back, but only for a minute. It was Lydia's turn to ask the uncomfortable question, which she did with her usual bluntness. “Beej, what was the Broker talking about? The ways and doors, and that Lovecraftian title instead of a name?”

Beetlejuice sat up with a groan, looking at her with exasperation. “Couldn't just let that go, huh?”

“He also said that freaky things might be coming to earth, so no,” Lydia said, unrepentant.

Beetlejuice sighed, running both hands through his hair. “Okay, big fat exposition time. Sorry folks at home, info-dump incoming.” Addressing Lydia again, he said, “Look, I explained to you that the barrier between the Neitherworld and the Living World is kind of like an airport, right? Certain gates open for a short time, then close.” Barbara and Delia leaned in; this was all new to them. “Usually, it's related to the stars and other celestial shit like that. Yah know,” he deepened his voice, “When Venus is ascendant in the ninety-ninth house, the moon is a waning crescent, the ambient temperature is ninety-nine degrees, and a bear just shat in the woods, The Blob will come forth and devour Pennsylvania.” He flapped a hand at Delia, silencing her automatic protest of his butchering the fine art of astrology. “Stuff like that. Halloween used to be a really big day for the supernatural, same with the solstices and equinoxes, but that's slowed down a lot the last thousand years.” He frowned, shuffling his boots, then crossing his ankles. “It's really bad news if the barrier between here and Neitherworld is thinning. Plenty of Neitherworlders are nice enough, but there's also plenty who wouldn’t play nice with fragile humans. One of the reasons the Enlightenment Era came around was ‘cause monsters got put on the endangered list here on Earth. Which is cool, yay scientific method and indoor plumbing, but you mortal types aren’t equipped to handle fuckers like me anymore.” He sighed heavily, hair turning pale again. “As for The Lovecraftian name guy… Far as I know, Creator of the Doors Beyond is one of the ones who made the barrier in the first place. Hence the title.”

“And why did Broker warn you about him?” Lydia pressed.

Beetlejuice didn't answer for a long moment, then said, “‘Cause a guy like that might not care for a demon hopping the fence as often as we do. After Chuck and Adam get their suits and I send the fairy snob home, we may need to take a break from our little adventures for awhile, Babes.”

Lydia bit her lip, but nodded. “That's okay, Beej. I don't really want to attract attention from things scarier than the freaking King in Yellow.”

Barbara and Delia exchanged relieved glances behind the two ‘kids.’ Every responsible adult in the house worried about what Beetlejuice and Lydia got up to in the Neitherworld, and meeting the Broker had just broken their worry dial. They would not be upset at all that their ‘kids’ would be staying in the human world, even if it meant more pranks and becoming closely acquainted with the local police force. Better that then real, life and death dangers.

Beetlejuice relaxed slightly at Lydia’s ready acceptance, and a tiny smile snuck back onto his face. “I’ll make it up to you. We'll go to Vegas!”

“Beej,” Lydia said, patting his shoulder, “you don't have to ‘make up’ for wanting to avoid the wrath of an eldritch monstrosity.” She paused, then smiled in a way that made both Barbara and Delia's developing parent-radar start beeping frantically. “But we can take a trip later, if you want. Could be fun to see how many people in Vegas believe in ghosts.”

Beetlejuice’s eyes began to gleam. “Not a bad idea. Maybe we can visit other cities too. Compare and contrast.”

Lydia nodded. “For science.”

He nodded solemnly, then offered his hand for a fist bump. “For science!” When they fist bumped, there was an actual explosion noise that made the two adults startle, and set Lydia and Beetlejuice to cackling.   

[theawkwardanglophile]

Chenford + "it was never just biology..."

Midnight.

It was midnight, and Tim was no closer to falling asleep than he was when he first got in bed an hour ago. The sheets rustled as his legs moved up and down out of restlessness. While it wasn’t an excessively warm evening, the air felt thick and hung over him as if he was covered in extra blankets. If the obnoxiously loud cricket he kept hearing wasn’t already inside it had to be right beside his window, torturing him with its incessant chirping.

He couldn’t take it anymore. Flinging the sheets off, he groaned as he got up and padded to the kitchen. 

He quietly got a glass of water, trying not to wake up Kojo. 

Apparently, this was his life now.

It had been two and a half weeks since Lucy had left for UC school, some of the longest weeks of his life. Weeks that had been filled with an unbearable silence, the longest they’d ever gone without talking since the day she’d been assigned to him. 

He’d expected this, knowing such a compressed time of learning required total focus from her. He didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that, so he’d kept quiet, not knowing if she’d want to hear from him anyway after how he’d left things with her. 

It wasn’t as though it was permanent, he reasoned. She would be back in a couple of weeks. They would talk again, maybe ride together again, maybe be friends again.

But in the meantime, oh how he missed her. 

So he lay awake every night, torturing himself with guilt over what might have happened when she’d invited him in after Vegas, wondering what to do about Ashley, who didn’t deserve a guy who couldn’t figure out what he really wanted, and debating what exactly to say to Lucy the next time he saw her. 

She told him it was basic biology. She had Chris. There was no way she was sitting around thinking about her former TO. 

It was time for him to move on, too.

As he finished his water, he heard a faint buzzing coming from back in his bedroom and his heart plummeted.

A call after midnight was usually never a good thing.

He sprinted back, grabbing his phone from the nightstand.

Lucy.

“Are you okay?” was all he could think to say.

“Tim, hi. I just, um, I wanted–”

“Are you okay?” he repeated, still fearing the worst.

“Yes, yes I’m fine. I’m in my hotel room for the night.”

Finally able to release the breath he’d been holding, he sank onto the bed, feeling like he’d just aged ten years. “In that case, hi.”

“Um, how are you?”

Such a simple question, yet he didn’t know how to answer. Great made him a lying liar who lies. Good was also a lie. I’ve been miserable since you left, well, far more accurate but there was no way he was telling her that right off the bat. So he went with the old standby. “I’m fine.”

“Good. That’s good,” Lucy said, her voice wistful. He could almost sense her the overactive wheels spinning in her mind, yet she said nothing more, which was never a good sign when it came to Lucy Chen.

Sighing, he tried to break the ice. “Lucy, I know you didn’t call at midnight just to ask how I’m doing. So, start talking.”

He winced, wondering if that came out harsher than he intended. “Please,” he added, barely above a whisper.

He heard a shaky breath on the other end. “I’ve been needing to tell you something, for a while, actually. But calling was a mistake. It had been a long night, and I had wanted to hear your voice, but this was a bad idea.”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that and tell me what you need to say?”

“No, I can’t do that to you, Tim. I don’t want to complicate your life.”

“You’ve been complicating my life since the day I met you. What makes this any different?” he teased, trying to lessen the heaviness he could hear in her voice.

But all he was met with was silence.

“In a good way,” he added quickly. “Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood.”

“Not your strong suit.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. She was able to do it with four words. 

“Please, Lucy, talk to me.”

“It was never just biology,” Lucy whispered.

He gripped the phone tighter, sure he heard her wrong. All words in the English language deserted him. 

“It’s what I should have said in Vegas, when you asked. I told you what I thought you wanted to hear, but it wasn’t what I wanted to say. It wasn’t just biology, and it still isn’t. I felt…so much when we kissed. And I know, I know you’re happy with Ashley, and I would never want to come between the two of you. I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable. It’s been weighing on me for weeks, and I felt like you needed to know, because when I come back to LA, everything is going to have to change, and I don’t know really know where we go from here.”

Tim scrambled to process her every word, still not quite believing it. He was desperate to respond, but no words were able to leave his throat. 

“Ok…ok,” she whispered, sniffling. “I get it, you know. You told me to move on, and I’m going to respect your wishes. I won’t get in your way when I come back, I promise.”

“No!” Tim exclaimed, his mouth finally catching up with his brain. “I’m sorry, Lucy, I just needed a second to process. It was never just biology for me, either.”

“What? Really?”

“Really. But you made it seem like you weren’t interested, and then everything with Chris…I was going to try to put it behind me.”

“How was that working out for you?”

“Terribly. You’re impossible to forget, Lucy.”

“Wow. I’ve been overanalyzing all of this for so long, and you’re able to whip out a line like that out of nowhere?”

Tim chuckled as he sank further into the pillows. “Because it’s the truth.”

“But Ashley….”

He felt his stomach churn at the mention of her name. “I’ve been needing to break up with her. I haven’t been fair to her, having feelings for someone else while still trying to make the relationship work.”

“I had already decided to break up with Chris once I got home. That was a decision I made for myself, regardless of what might happen with you. I thought I could stay with him after his attack, but there just isn’t anything there. I don’t feel enough to keep anything going. But I do owe it to him to break up with him in person.”

“Sounds like we both have some things we need to take care of.”

“Tim?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we really do this?”

He ached for her to appear in front of her so he could pull her in his arms and give her all the reassurance in the world, to touch and taste her until she had no doubt in her mind. But right now, all he had were his words.

“We can, Lucy. I know there are obstacles with work, but you matter more than any of those. Sure it will be a risk, but I think we’re worth the risk.”

“I think so, too.”

Tim smiled. “Good.”

Lucy yawned loudly into the phone.

“Get some sleep already. We can talk more tomorrow.”

“Man, have I missed you.”

“Yeah,” Tim said, nodding as if she could see. “Me too.”

“Goodnight, Tim.”

“Goodnight, Lucy.”

He pulled the sheets back over him, unable to get rid of the grin on his face, not that he wanted to. There still wouldn’t be any sleep coming tonight, but at least now it was for a whole different reason.

[lee-hakhyun]

a short? recap of the last few chapters (696-698)

why is kdj so angry? is it because of yjh? romantic, but that's probably not it. there's something weird about this kdj. is it because he's dkos? or are all the split kdjs like this?

lhh figures that it's because he doesn't like this 'story'.

anna uses her demon eye. fourth wall blocks it. kdj asks again, what happened to yjh? kdj reaches for his sword. the lights flicker. and...

[orv] is released. cheon inho is left passed out standing upright. kdj forgot the duration of the skill. he leaves to go exchange some coins. lee hakhyun is left to watch over cheon inho's passed out body . at least anna can't tell he's passed out because of his narrow eyes.

lhh curses out kdj. things escalate. zarathustra are preparing to fight an unconscious cih. anna is about to attack, but selena stops her. cih isn't a bad person. but then anna says that cheon inho is the demon king. at those words, chaos breaks out in the hall. and lee hakhyun is confused too. why would the incarnations in the 7th scenario be worried about a demon king? lee hakhyun isn't a demon king, anyway. his sponsor might be, but he isn't... anna would know that...

anna asks if cheon inho chose 'that way' at the end of that regression. then says she's abandoning zarathustra's headquarters. more chaos as incarnations run out of the hotel screaming. lee hakhyun can't control the body, how is he going to-

wait. he can control the body. he has before. lhh uses incite on cheon inho, and makes cheon inho drop his weapon, and then he talks with anna, who asks if his memory has come back.

lots of dialogue. lhh tells anna to think of him as a 'new cheon inho'. theere seems to be some severe misunderstanding going on between them... and then lhh says yjh was the one to call him over, and that they're on the same side. anna can't believe it. confirms it with lie detection. she CANNOT believe it. what is going on. she seems convinced he remembers the last regression, and lhh decides to not fight her on that.

anna tells lhh that the supreme king and his companions are still safe, for now. they're still in the washington dome. anna confirms that they fails the 5th scenario... how? can anna not see the future? then, anna says that there was interference that her future sight couldn't see. and then asks if lhh knows of the 'apostles'.

there were readers in america, too.

-

an hour after cheon inho passed out, yjh arrived in las vegas. his party is lhs, ljh, knw, lsh, and sys. these five incarnations have been with him for dozens of regressions. they were flawed, but in the end, they were the ones who always sticked with him until the very end.

there's also... a few others. yjh won't acknowledge that they're part of his party. they're just tagging along. kang ilhoon (killer king), ye hyunwoo, and lee seyeon (yerin). minor villain incarnations in the previous regressions. the king of no killing lee dansu, and the tanker kyung sein who is second after lee hyunsung. those two also caused some fights in previous regressions. is it a coincidence? or what? yjh can accept incarnations changing, every regression is different after all. with the exception of one person.

cheon inho.

he has always been against yjh, in every single regression. however, he hasn't become a villain in this regression yet. it's strange. yoo mia notices him brooding. correctly guesses that he's thinking about the guy with narrow eyes. yjh tells her he's dangerous, and yma says he looks like a con man, but she keeps hearing that he's good. a good con man... yjh can't think of any way to refute it.

he wants to remember what happened in the last regression, but he can't. one of the tattoos he carved on his body restricts his memory in exchange for power. but it's not a big deal, because someone else would remember for him. the group reach anna croft, who has the memories he wanted.

meeting anna, he avoids eye contact. another tattoo is messing with his emotions, and he doesn't want to kill her. he wanted to bring cheon inho to manage this, but it's too late now. anna has used past sight too many times today, so she can't give him the memories yet. they talk, and yjh hears about the 5th scenario and the apostles. it seems washington's fall has something to do with them. anna needs their help and she will be under their debt after this is dealt with.

heading to the washington dome, its as if the whole city is buried in black ash. there are no living incarnations seen anywhere. black roots grew, and after ripping one, yjh figures out what happened to the washington dome. it was invaded by a demon king. this is why they were trying to get purification methods... it's not yet irreversible, but they need to take care of this before it spreads to the rest of the world. the specific demon king that is invading is weird, too. the name is one none of them have heard before.

the demon king of salvation.

-

yjh doesn't know what demon king that is. or, he didn't. but he hears the voice of a close friend. a friend... it's weird. in his 41 regressions, such a concept didn't exist for him. it's from the memories of another worldline, which hsy put in his head. the demon king of salvation. he doesn't know if that was the name of the man in his memories, but the feelings of those who called the modifier were there. some were happy, some were sad, some with longing.

he tries to recall the man's face, but it was covered with a greyish void. what came to mind instead was the items he was using. a white coat, a sword with three properties, a phone that he carries like a talisman... yjh knows of an incarnation in this regression who uses the exact same items.

anna and yjh talk a bit more, and anna said that christina had met the demon king's symbolic body through her hypnotist's skill. it was too much for her, and after waking up she couldn't sleep for two nights. they might need to consider the worst case scenario. the worst case scenario... yjh looks at yma. his only family. when the scenarios first began, he had promised that he would protect this child at all cost.

he later lost yoo mia. once, twice, three, four, five times. after more than dozens of regressions, he figured it out. he couldn't save his little sister. not until he destroys this world with his own hands. he hands yoo mia a black elixir, and tells her to take it if the worst case scenario happens. she affirms the conditions. when everyone yjh told her can help is dead, and when... yma won't continue her words. refuses to say it. she runs over and hugs lee seolhwa. they nod at each other, and yjh tells anna he will help. yjh gets the seventh scenario, the demon invasion, and drawing his spear, he orders everyone to get ready. the demons start attacking, and they clear through them. yjh goes ahead, clearing out all the demons in his path, heading for the other of this 'dome'. swinging his spear at the demon, it doesn't affect him. the demon laughs and calls him short tempered, and then says to come in, that the demon king of salvation is waiting for him.

[diane-nguyen-watches-cartoons]

I saw a "New Vegas is Problematic™ because it portrays raiders as savages with less nuance than even the Legion" post that mischaracterized the Powder Gangers and Fiends and completely ignored the Khans, so now I'm doing a "Bad Guy" playthrough of New Vegas in order to evaluate that argument. Also there's an entire section of the map that I somehow missed in all my playthroughs.

Marta the Medic is a former New California Republic paramedic who moved to Nevada because she got fed up with the corruption back home. Her tag skills are science, medicine, and energy weapons (but her strength and medical training make her handy with a knife too). She has a brilliant mind and is strong as an ox but nobody listens to her and her life has just been one run of bad luck after another. She fully believes that the NCR is worse than any of its enemies, and anyone who says otherwise is just brainwashed by propaganda (so, basically a Fallout Tankie). She is not at all thrilled to find the NCR's imperialism following her East. And she's just been shot in the fucking head.

It might be brain damage, it might be a new perspective from a lifetime of bad luck coming to a climax, but she's big mad and ready to kill some people.

So of course when a group of escaped slaves who make a living by stealing from the wealthiest, most corrupt corporation in the NCR (the Powder Gangers) roll into Goodsprings she's all about them. Sure, they're a bit rough about the edges, but what else can you expect from people who were forced into a life of crime by Society™ and then brutalized for it? Whatever they've done, there's someone in an NCR uniform who did worse and got a medal for it.

Easy Pete said it himself, towns like Goodsprings don't stay independent for long, not if they've got something the NCR wants. Sunny Smiles and her dog aren't enough to defend the town against annexation or raiders. Marta really thinks Pete would have come around, if she'd had more time to talk to him. Sunny too, she was smart enough to realize that the rumors about the Legion "might" just be propaganda the NCR cooked up to make themselves welcome here.

Marta doesn't feel great about betraying the people who helped her. Really, really wishes the Powder Gangers had given her just one more day to try and talk the “militia” down. But what's done is done. Goodsprings is safe from NCR annexation, and with only four deaths. Five if you count the dog. Oh, and Ringo. Whatever! The NCR has done worse.

We took Black Widow for our first perk. Marta already knows she likes guys... she won't take the other perk until she meets Veronica ;) Hardcore mode is ON.

Next time on our adventure, we visit the NCR Correctional Facility and meet the leader of the slave uprising!