#and then adjust everything to fit and just bullet point you some ideas about doctor harry and shit

[dothediscokim]

in season 2 of house now. still need to watch further in this rewatch of house. comparisons are small and limited, but enough that give me au brain worms for doctor harrier du bois and i'm gonna bullet point out some ideas for a hospital/medical au for disco elysium inspired by house so please wait with abate breathe while i figure it out how this would work for an au

or

i'd say join me in watching house, warning about plenty of angst and good old 2000s queerbaiting except this show they really start to hand it to you in s4 and s6 and then crush your soul in s8... anyways some spoilers as i explain some logistics of this idea; this definitely wouldn't be a 1:1 kind of au; but the key concepts. some warnings of spoilers for house under the cut but not too major

admittedly some of this will fall apart just given this is a US show and DE is very european and i'm a us citizen and fan, so i've got a hardwired american-centric framing of mind Buuuuuutt adjustments can be made the comparisons are more the key concept and not the detail comparison

key concepts

asshole addict doctor (house) - translate to pre-amnesia harrier

said doctor is an absolute brilliant genius in his field (diagnostician) - translation here being we are given the idea that harry was a genius detective; so again why we'd translate house to harry

patients come in as cases that are sudden and the diagnosis is hard to find at first

house can be mischievous around the hospital and to his co-workers; wants interesting cases, works in odd ways -> see again harry

the 41st definitely not 1:1 translating onto the rest of the cast; but the general idea of the tight-ish knit / somewhate special unit that is hired/picked out by house -> again literally harry created the unit, and house has his ducklings

reminder that the hospital that house works out; is a very specific kind of house, and that is it is a teaching hospital, so it has med students and the doctors and heads of departments do have lectures at the local university/college to the med students, and med students come to work or take residence at the teaching hospital ( house with his ducklings as its called in the fandom -> house picked them out to be on his "team" for solving and brainstorming possible diagnosis and treatments ) anyways that's where you can see that 41st' mcu woudl translate into that and dynamics aren't specifically needed as a 1:1

okay so 41st in a hospital

the people in house's "unit" and house's co-workers and "friends" are usually the ones that have to cover for house, or defend house when he does something that risk the hosptial reputation or funding (there's a whoel plot) and Cuddy & Wilson specifically get on House's case about his ethics but are also the biggest two that will fight for house as a doctor

so that's why I'd read Jean here as sort of both; since it's obvious Jean did that A LOT for Harry

and then for a small, not 1:1 comparsion ; but we meet house when he is still pining for his ex after 5 years ( it's a whole plot line in s1 ), and just interesting cause dora and harry were 6 years and that wrecked harry.. andi mean house was wrecked by it, but there was an additional layer of house's leg ( which is a big thing for the house and about house; it's why he is addicted to pain killers, because he suffered an <cant' think of word> related to his leg, and now suffers chronic pain and uses a cane and gets addicted to pain killers and i am not explaining this too well at all )

anywyas somewhat lining up is harry and house get stuck on exs and love very much; but harry definitely in a worse way since he has the whole goddess religious elevation; but house and this ex ( who comes a character and appears as a plotline for a few episodes ) just I DONT KNOW my brain is hyperfixated on Disco Elysium so the brian worms are gonna find everything they can to link everyhting bakc to disco elysium hence this whole post about house au for disco elysium

but also another reason for comparison is the kind of nihilism that house and harry exhibit and the addiction and the slight suicidal idealation

also just very surface comparison; but house has his limp in one leg, and then by the end of disco elysium harry takes the bullet to the leg, and has the limp in the leg and just IDK leg thing

it'd probably work best-ish as harry/jean-ish, though again the main relationship in the show is the friendship (that feels very queerbaity) with hilson; but i wouldnt say wilson and jean line up too well, like i said this au and coverting house core concepts to disco elysium as an idea or using house md as a sort of ground work, but the comparsions are very minimal, but anyways this would probably start with pre-apocalyptic amnesia harry, because house is a manipulative asshole and addict and that's what we can infer from the former harrier, and then s5 (spoilers) is when house's addiction starts to cause hallucinations and this could be the place for apocalyptical amnesia for good old harry to be inserted in the idea, and just i don't the basis of hilson/house is a long term friendship; and you'd see with jean/harry more so over all... compared to say kim/jean. but kim could special feature.

[reversecreek]

hi it’s me... clicks across the linoleum of the dash wearing high heels w a spray tan like i’m a member of jersey shore suddenly..... best summary of willa is that she got moira rose as her #1 chara on a What Character Are You Most Like personality test out of thousands of options.... says so much. u can find her pinterest here n her playlist here 😋 like this or hmu fr plots!!

* ashley moore, cis female + she/her  | you know willa deneurve, right? they’re twenty-four, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, most of her life, on and off? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to watch me by the pom poms like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole sticking gold stars over old polaroids until you can barely see faces, dressing as marie antoinette at your high school prom & delivering fake laughter to a bratz doll you’re pretending is a talkshow host thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is august 1st, so they’re a leo, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nai, 24, gmt, she/her )

HISTORY:

willa ws born to honestly like….. the perfect family not to honk my own tit bt……………. they were jst rly quite wholesome. her mum celeste was this larger than life person who could never b contained by the four walls of any room she was in. she hd the presence of a gold glitter chess piece on an otherwise mundane wooden board. her dad marlon used to always joke that he had absolutely NO idea how he landed her bc he was just this like. rly average guy by all accounts n purposes….. blended into the sea in high skl……. had a few close friends but was never rly Notable or made a proper impression anywhere…… he always retold it as him coasting thru life until he met her in college. kind of like he’d been half awake before. they just Clicked n no-one cld believe she’d chosen him bt she was jst. completely head over heels n didn’t care what anyone had to say bc that was That

willa always very much took after celeste…… there’s this one quote i remember reading that goes vaguely like “my mom and i would sit and listen to leonard cohen and joni mitchell lyrics together. from a young age i remember her being like "i’m playing this song and when it’s done i want u to tell me what’s happening in it” n she would give me a fake glass of wine when i was 8 and i would listen and b like. i think there was an affair.” which so much summarises their dynamic…… she ws just so like. dramatic n fun n always encouraged that in willa too. her mum was like. everything she aspired to be…… got scouted by a modelling agency in college n shot one campaign before blowing it off simply bc she was bored. starred lead in a play. spent a few weeks travelling asia selling handmade candles shaped like koi fish or curled up foxes or elegantly stretched hands. dated a parisian movie star during a break she and her father took n was featured in tabloids on his arm at the premiere. sm fun n exotic stories willa literally cldn’t get enough. whenever she’d tell them to willa as a kid her dad wld roll his eyes like ohhhhh here she goes again but it’d all b playful n he’d smile bc he honestly cldn’t get enough either. the stuff dreams are made of luv (lizzie mcguire stans rise)

(car accident & death tw) so u know when ur walking down a flight of stairs n then out of nowhere u miss a step n u get that lurch in ur stomach like ur in free fall? yeah. i won’t go into it too much but one night they were driving back from getting frozen yogurt and then suddenly they weren’t. she doesn’t rly remember much about it except for completely ignoring the doctors trying to give her the news and just saying ���dad chose pecan. who chooses pecan?” n repeating that over n over n over until it didn’t rly register in her ears as english any more.

willa was uprooted from irving at 11 to go n live w her aunt in NY. this was like. a huge adjustment honestly….. her aunt blanche hd always been a little unconventional bt extremely glamorous. she lived in an old defunct theatre she’d bought out n came from a lot of money. willa’s mum’s side of the family hd always been well off bt celeste opted to live a little more Ordinarily shall we say after settling whereas blanche ws jst balls to the walls dripping w eccentric excess…. wld say she was never naked bc she ws always wearing black opium by yves saint laurent…… probably the living embodiment of la vie boheme….. she’d been admitted a yr early to a rly prestigious parisian design school n is an AMAZING seamstress. a corset she stitched a broadway star into got commissioned fr an actress’ red carpet walk at an indie film festival. rly just lived such a life rich w lots of stories n lots of talent too…… had that star quality essence tht her mum had n that was smthn willa found quite comforting everything considered.

(grief tw) u would think maybe a situation like this (one involving so much sudden change) wld cause a kid of tht age to withdraw into her shell bt willa only came out of her shell MORE. she coped w her situation by spinning it into a celebrity origin story inside her head. the tear jerker tale someone tells during their x factor audition to get the judges rooting for them. mentally streamlining things. repackaging all that hurt as a surefire ticket to success bc it had to be useful for something right? there had to b a point to it right? willa decided the point was she’s a star. KFHSGKFHGFKHGKJSFHG. get it girl….. she ws literally just like ok well clearly i’m destined to be famous n i’m the main character of this story. this story called earth. it’s all about me.

rly heavily immersed herself in her high skl theatre scene……. loved experimenting w fashion n literally wore the most outlandish things like. she treated the hallways like her milan f/w debut every new school yr…… a lot of the things she wore were actual like. costumes frm her aunt’s collection…… she has a multi-story closet u have to climb ladders to reach things in like a very rustic library…. it rly wasn’t uncommon for willa to turn up one day corsetted like a pirate with billowing sleeves or sporting the baby blue gingham of a swedish milk maid. it’s like she literally jst…… became a role. always. every day. the world ws her stage. the cameras were always rolling. her aunt only encouraged this tbh n honestly? icon. we love to see it. willa partied a bunch n rly lived a lax lifestyle where responsibility was concerned…. her aunt ws her best friend…… made rly gd friends with performers in the drag club scene n loved the glitz of that….. lots of wild nights turned grossly bright mornings

snagged an agent fresh into her first yr of college (she gt accepted to a pretty competitive theatre program at [redacted] in NY bc i haven’t looked into what that wld be yet <3 i’m merely a helpless british lass <3) n booked a few commercials n things….. when i say willa wld enter audition rooms like she owned the place i’m rly not exaggerating…. once she turned up to a casting call for MEN n just walked right to the front of the line scraping a random chair along the way n then took a seat w her legs crossed popping a bubble in her gum as they all glared at her like wtf is literally going on who are u. she received several complaints n she was just like “ur all acting so jealous of me….”

i feel like she got a pretty big role in a theatre production in her last yr at school. haven’t decided what yet. maybe smthn rocky horror or even mimi in rent. this was meant to b some like huge moment for willa like yes girl finally making it ur on ur way this is what u wanted n she WAS happy abt it but once it was wrapped she jst had this strange like Huh feeling in her chest……. n a la celeste w all her exciting stories was just like well i’ve done that so what’s next? i think she’d graduate n then jst suddenly decide to move to irving in a fit of impulse. to all her college friends she’d be like “ugh a beach retreat is so necessary honestly the city is sooooooooo toxic this place cld literally enlarge my pores if i wasn’t so rigorous with my skincare routine” bt like 🤔 what u seeking girl? results pending.

SO basically i feel like she finally moved back to irving little over a yr ago. she hd a brief stint starring on a reality tv show tht filmed in one of the larger beach houses where her dog gained a handful of fan accounts dedicated to him……. u maybe will see why in the first bullet point of her personality section………… FKGHKSHFGGKFSHKHG. honestly she ws received pretty well too (mostly bc she’s so fking dramatic n like a caricature of a person) bt it wasn’t anything to warrant actual Fame (despite what willa herself might think). she’s mostly jst like. chilling honestly. accepting scripts n flying out fr auditions still. she’ll nab the occasional part bt she’s looking for that One Thing that rly feels like her big moment….. otherwise i cn just imagine her treating irving like a little dollhouse compared to the roaring mansion of NYC n having fun playing around in it. strikes a pose w a hand on my hip…. and now to personality.

PERSONALITY:

got a very large n lithe greyhound n named him marlene dietrich bc she was a black n white hollywood starlet famously known for her affairs n “bedroom eyes”. willa was like ugh. icon status instantly. didn’t rly foresee the responsibilities tht came w owning a dog tht loves exercise n complains abt him being like “ugh he wants to run soooooooooo much 🙄 like where are u literally going”. having said tht loves him dearly n he can often be seen wearing little clothes. a baby’s bonnet. a quilted leather waistcoat. a custom dog boa. he’s very glamorous. willa calls him a gay icon despite no evidence to support this theory. she also says he can sniff out evil in ppl so she brings him sometimes when she’s first introduced to a friend’s new bf n if his nose quivers a certain way she’s like “marlene has spoken. it’s done”. her friends r like omg? what’s done? willa gets up n walks away without elaborating. marlene’s little paws clicking along the floor w attitude.

literally dressed as marie antoinette for her high skl prom even tho there was no theme pertaining to this. jst loves the spotlight. can fake cry and WILL to get out of a parking ticket or teach someone to watch their tone or even simply for the theatrics of it all. the Most dramatic………….. rly fits being an actress like when people find out what she does it’s very like oh that makes sense.

says she doesn’t get hangovers. she’s just like “i revoked that it doesn’t happen to me”. alludes tht this is bc she’s an all powerful deity that was Chosen to be Blessed bt really she’s jst great at bouncing back n acting fine even w a blistering headache. it’s about believing the performance so much that u even convince urself.

has an extremely elevated sense of self importance bc this is kind of the equivalent of several layers of bubble wrap to cushion her frm the world. strives to b extraordinary bc ordinary honestly feels like a death sentence n there’s nothing she’d want to b seen as less. despite this weight she puts on that she rly doesn’t tend to let ppl’s opinions affect fr the most part like she’s quite firmly set in this I’m Literally The Most Gorgeous And Beautiful Angel Star Creature To Walk This Narsty Little Earth view

probably an incredibly big fan of dramatic short lived love affairs. she wants the glamour of it all. the scandal. the randomly breaking up w someone in a public place n sliding on sunglasses after delivering the words over a freshly ordered coffee (tht she’ll leave without drinking bc that’s star power babey she waits fr no man or no hot beverage)…….. has no preference gets w any n all regardless of gender……… romanticises things so they hv a better spin or story in her head n doesn’t rly take things seriously like jst has fun in her fantasy world…. she’s like ugh chuck i know u wanted to marry me but i’m a beautiful bird in a cage n u literally need to undo the latch n set me free……. the guy’s like……. my name’s chase n we’ve only been on two dates….. willa’s like…… please don’t take this so hard i can tell ur besides urself but people r starting to stare……. gets up n leaves. no-one was staring. chase is confused n honestly probably semi concerned fr her welfare.

always has to b the hottest n most glamorous person in a grocery store…. probably goes to them when she doesn’t even need anything jst holding a basket nonchalantly over her forearm glancing over at a cashier in her wizard of oz corset seamed interpretation on a dorothy dress thinking he wants me soooo bad it’s not even funny….. seduces him over the check out counter jst for him to ask her to come back to his so she can lean back scandalised n cry “IS THAT THE KIND OF WOMAN U THINK I AM, PAUL?! YOU’RE A GHASTLY LITTLE MAN, YOU ARE….” with all the gusto of a telenovela. attracts the shocked glances of all surrounding elderly.

speaks fluent french. probably on her brief stint on tht reality show i mentioned earlier was like “ugh can you believe Deneurve of this guy?” n in her head was like this catchphrase is sensational it’ll catch on fast the twittersphere is abt to implode but it didn’t become a thing except for in a small isolated community. despite this she’s like “yeah it went viral….. go figure. just another day in the life.”

honestly like a lot of fun bt also a huge handful at the same time. keeps her real Serious emotions in a locked box bt is always overflowing w melodramatics n rly giving her all at the drop of a hat where Performing is concerned. probably Loves parties n sees them as another form of production in which she wants to b the lead. rly just. loves herself. except does she? 🤔 lifts my hand up like rihanna n winks. find out next time. lucky by britney plays as i slowly disintegrate in spiderman rp…..

WANTED CONNECTIONS

unrequited flame: willa burns thru people like matches. bright n fast. honestly i feel like she struggles to take romance seriously so it cld be fun to play around with someone who’s been singed by that in the past…. mayb they hd actual feelings whereas willa was just messing around n having fun…. living la vida loca so to speak…….. we can discuss a time frame or specifics to expand upon this but. sexy angst perhaps.

those she knew from childhood: willa moved to NY at 11 n i feel like it was very sudden n soon after the accident. maybe she didn’t even say goodbye. maybe they were rly close n all of a sudden she didn’t show up to school the next day n when they rode past her house on their bike the sign said sold and that was that. honestly very dramatic of her even at a young age. we love a disappearing act. houdini who?

acting rival: honestly jst feel like this cld be funny. willa’s so dramatic she’d be like i literally want them dead they’re a despicable little gremlin fr trying to steal my spotlight. cld be as simple as having auditioned a few times fr the same parts or something.

childhood sweetheart: i think it cld be rly cute n sad if there was someone that kind of echoed the dynamic her mum n dad had except she was the celeste n they were the marlon…. (open to any gender)…….. so like. willa was always very larger than life commanding attention in a room n they were more to the sidelines but they just kind of got each other n brought out the best in one another. added angst to the fact tht willa wld maybe want to avoid them as much as possible now bc it dredges up feelings she doesn’t want to confront where her parents r concerned n also in a way any possibility of them winding up together feels like sellotaping an expiration date to both of their foreheads in willa’s brain

someone who was either a fan of or also on the reality show willa was: i imagine it like a reinvention of the hills honestly except based in these irving beach houses…. probably didn’t run that long bt there was a bunch of drama on it mostly staged…… maybe they were willa’s love interest bt it was all fake fr the cameras…… it wasn’t like. a huge deal n didn’t rly catch flight so much where popularity’s concerned bt. cld be fun to play with <3

patti frands: jogs in high knees to translate that into party friends as i adjust my spectacles. willa’s very sociable bt she’s also like kind of full of herself n obnoxious so do with that what u will. KFHGKSHGKGHFSKG. she knows hw to have a gd time tho like growing up she was rly into the gay club scene n the drag scene in NY so like. let’s hear it fr the gays who know how to do it right <3

someone equally over the top: i luv the idea of willa having someone who just like runs with made up scenarios n roles she makes up on the spot n them hanging out is like a 24/7 improv session tht they reel random surrounding strangers just fr the fun thrill

the other woman: willa is quite detached n selfish so she wld easily be the other woman in a relationship n not care about it n this cld make for good spice <3

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Dawn in Your Eyes Part 17

Summary: Alfie has little to no idea why Caroline ever gave him the time of day. The blind woman seemed far too sensible to even speak to him. But soon he finds himself falling helplessly in love.

Part 17: Alfie and Caroline discuss names. Alfie finds out what a pain in the ass it is to be partially blind. 

            Pilot was extremely relieved when Caroline was returned to him. He refused to leave her side for more than a minute a few days after they were reunited. Of course, that really meant just going back and forth from Elizabeth’s home to the hospital.

            Julia and Alfie didn’t want her living on her own for obvious reasons after the kidnapping. It was an adjustment period, and Caroline wasn’t sure how long it would last. Would things return to normal once Alfie was cleared to leave the hospital?

            Maybe things would never go back to the way they were. Not after such an event. And not since they were due to have a baby in less than six months.

            Since most of her days were sat in the hospital or at Elizabeth and Richard’s, Caroline had plenty of time to process what had happened and what was coming next.

            Alfie assured her that the men who had taken her would be dealt with accordingly. That’s all he had to say on the matter. He wasn’t going to tell his wife that two men were dead and the other two were tied up in the cellar of the bakery. Waiting until Alfie was back on his feet so he could kill them properly. A long, torturous, painful death seemed suitable.

            Some of his men had already roughed them up a bit to learn their motives. It was reported to Alfie that they were Italians although not officially linked to Sabini. Just a group of rabid young men who wanted the wealth and power that Darby had. Hoping to impress him, instead, they made a critical error. Even Sabini was wise enough to know that kidnapping Alfie Solomons’ blind wife was a huge mistake.

            Alfie understood that but wanted to make an example out of the rogue men. To let anyone, not just the Italians, that his family was not to be messed with.

             ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

            “Elizabeth had Misty write some names down for me.” Caroline arrived one day with a piece of paper in her hand. She found her usual seat beside Alfie’s hospital bed and sat.

            “Names for what?” Alfie reached for his glasses. It seemed that the blindness in his left eye would be long-lasting, if not permanent. But he was coping. Some of the doctors or nurses would sympathize, expecting the man to be devastated with such a drastic change. Alfie would simply bark out a laugh and tell them that his wife had been born blind. Losing sight in one eye wasn’t the end of the world.

            He’d made a similar joke when he first got to see what the bullet had done to his face. He snorted and grimaced. “Well, at least me wife is blind so she won’t leave me for looking like this.”

            The nurse holding the mirror just gave an uncomfortable smile and checked his dose of pain medication to make sure he hadn’t been given more than was necessary.

             “Baby names.” Caroline set her purse down and instructed Pilot to lay down by her feet.

            “That right? Let’s have a look-see then.” He blinked a few times to clear up his vision. Losing half of his sight was still something he needed to get used to. Emotionally, he was just lucky the bullet hadn’t gone straight through his brain. It was easy for him to stand up, dust himself off, and resume life. But the physical limitations were a weight on him. Reading gave him a major headache, his depth perception was utterly fucked, and his right eye was still trying to adjust. But he tried not to confide these hardships to Caroline. It felt so silly complaining to her about being half-blind when she’d never seen the world. He felt it was like whining about losing a finger to someone who’d been born without arms.

            So he tried to convey that everything was just peachy.   

            “Zelda, yeah that’s our great-aunt’s name. James, mhm, Sarah, sure sure, Rose, Helen, Eva, Pearl, Georgia, hang on. She’s only listed one boys name, is this her way of telling us she wants it to be a girl?” He protested.

            Caroline giggled. “I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it.” She didn’t tell him that, yes, his cousin had been hoping for a girl.

            Alfie grunted. “Ah, now here is a proper Jewish name for a boy. Eli. Proper good name. Not like all these fucking modern names she’s written down.”

            “Did you want something more traditional?” She wondered.

            “Thing is, think me mum gave me a more Western name to fit in, yeah? That way, people wouldn’t be looking down on us even more. ‘Fucking Jews and their wild names, eh? We’re English, ain’t we?’. But I ain’t naming our child outta fear. Ifya like a British name, then that’s fine. But don’t want you to name our child outta fear. Not like our parents did. People are gonna call me kid what they were named whether they like it or not. They have an issue; they can come to me and I’ll give them a well-crafted history of the chosen people. None of this…this bullshit.”

            Caroline nodded slowly. She hadn’t considered his point of view before but did understand it. Knowing Alfie felt so strongly about it, she wanted to grant his wish. Besides, she wanted her child to have a meaningful name, not something that was following a trend. “So more traditional. I think we could find a beautifully Jewish name.” She murmured softly and plucked the paper from his hand. “Zelda is Yiddish. Eli is Hebrew. What else?”

            “I’d hafta think about it,” Alfie admitted. He was starting to get a headache from reading the names his cousin had picked.

            She took his hand in hers. “How are you feeling?”

            “Fine, should be about ready to get back home. Fucking sick of this hospital.” He mumbled and squeezed her hand.

            “I know. I want you home so badly.” She sighed. “I love Elizabeth and Richard but I miss being together, just us two.”  

            “You can admit it, Liz can be overbearing.” Alfie chuckled.

            “She is not! She’s wonderful and caring. But I miss being with you in our own home. I want to go back to Letwin or Margate.”

            “I do too.” He raised her hand to kiss her knuckles. “We are due to have a very well-deserved vacation.”

            “We can leave straight from here.” Caroline got swept up in the daydream of being whisked away to either of their homes outside of London. Spending quality time with the husband she thought she was going to lose.

            “Well, I’ve got a few things to wrap up here before we do.” He frowned.

            “Like what?”

            “Like loose ends that need dealing with.”

            A cold chill went down Caroline’s spine as she picked up on anger in his voice. “Alfie…whatever you’re planning I’d urge you to stop.”

            “Not planning anything, love.”

            “I know you’re planning.” She argued. “And you ought to tell me the truth.”

            Alfie sighed and rested his head back against the pillows propping him up. He made sure not to touch his face even though he wanted to rub his weary eyes. “There are two men that are still alive. Part of the group that took you.” He told her. “They’ll be my example to those fucking-” He gritted his teeth and shook his head. “Caroline, I won’t rest until they pay and the message is well received.”

            She chewed on her lower lip. Part of her wanted the men punished. After all, they had no right to do what they did. However, she knew her husband’s form of punishment was very different from the legal system. And she just wanted the ordeal to be done with. Caroline thought because she was home safe, things were done.

            But of course, they weren’t. And she wasn’t sure if they’d ever be fully settled. Besides, this wasn’t an isolated matter. It was just a symptom of years of Darby and Alfie bickering and fighting back and forth.

            “Alfie, will you look at me?” She reached up to find his cheek.

            “I’m looking at you, love.” He replied quietly.

            “What will it take to get you to give this up?” She asked, her gray eyes pleading. “We’re expecting a child. I don’t want this to continue to interrupt our lives. You were almost killed…”

            “I know, Caroline, I know.” He swallowed and tried to listen with an open mind. Settling arguments with Darby was never easy, often times Alfie just didn’t want to stop fighting. He felt like the man deserved what was coming to him.

            “I can’t have this in my life, and I know you can’t for much longer. You need to settle things. I won’t ask you to change completely but I need to know that my family will be safe. Our family.”

            “I’ll work on it.” He promised, the words coming from his heart. She was right, he didn’t want their child to see the horrors he had to. That was the point of bringing up a child, wasn’t it? To love them and to give them a better life? “Things’ll change. They will.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~           

            Alfie returned home much to his and Caroline’s relief. The hospital was becoming very depressing and made Alfie stir crazy.

            Cyril and Apollo went mad when he entered the flat. They nearly knocked him over as they jumped on him excitedly.

            “Alright, alright!” He exclaimed. “Don’t push me now.” He prodded them off and patted them both. “I missed ya mutts too.”

            Caroline laughed softly as Cyril whined. “They’ve been so lost without you. Kept following me around.”

            “Well, at least you had good company.” Alfie chuckled. “Want some tea, love? I need something to settle me head.”

            “Sure.” She let Pilot off his lead. “I’ll be in the sitting room.”

            “Right, just be a mo’.” Alfie went to the kitchen and put the kettle on. He had to blink a few times to try and right his vision. He didn’t think his life would be too changed by the lack of eyesight. He could get around, right?

            However, he was given a nasty wakeup call when he tried pouring the hot water into cups. He was certain he had the spout over the cup, that’s what it looked like. But it turned out his depth perception was worse than he anticipated. Boiling hot water spilled out over the kitchen counter and burned his hand.

            “Fuck!” He hissed and haphazardly set the kettle back on the stovetop but missed by a couple of inches. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He went for the sink to put cold water on his hand. Reaching for the tap, he overshot and knocked a bar of soap into the sink. “Fuck!” He growled and tried again, this time grabbing air. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” Third time he managed to get a hold of the faucet and turned on the water. It took a few tries to get his hand under the stream of cold water. The string of events boggled his mind. How could he be so deceived by his own sight?

            “Fuck.” He uttered one more time as the water soothed his burn.

            “Alfie?” Caroline called from the next room when she heard banging around. “Are you alright?”

            “Fine, love!” He replied.

            Unconvinced, Caroline walked into the kitchen. “Are you sure?”

            “Just burned me hand a bit.”

            “Did something spill?” She frowned as her stocking-covered foot stepped in a puddle on the tiles.

            “Yeah, just water. Tried pouring but-fuck-I dunno, guess I don’t see quite right with just one working eye.”

            “You’ll have to adjust, that’s all.” She soothed softly and grabbed a hand towel. She found the kettle and the teacups. “Watch.”

            Alfie turned off the tap and walked over. He watched carefully as she tapped the spout of the kettle to the bottom of the teacup before pouring. She kept the tip of her finger a half-inch from the rim. When the water touched her finger, she stopped.

            “It’s all about learning how to live in a world that wasn’t made for you.” She poured the second cup. “You’re clever, you’ll manage. But you need to be patient with yourself.” She set the kettle down and reached a hand to him.

            “Don’t have your sorta patience.” He mumbled sheepishly and took her hand.

            She pulled him close and kissed his cheek. “You’ll find it.” She promised. “But it won’t be easy. Still, I’ll be by your side the entire time.”

            “I fucking love you.” He murmured and kissed her properly.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla​ @giftofdreams​ @biba3434​

Tag list: @zazasblogxx​ @thinkingsofamadwoman​ @deaflikehawkeye​ @bellarkebxtch​ @evelynshelby​

Masterlist 

[apple-grass-and-smiles]

A Death By a Thousand Cuts Would Be Easier

Summary: A brief history of some of the moments concerning Bruce Wayne that Selina Kyle will remember until the day she dies.

Author’s Note: So, a bit of an explanation of how this whole thing works. The italicized headers are each things or phrases from the bridge of the stunning “Death By a Thousand Cuts” by Taylor Swift. Under each header is a drabble (none are exactly 100 words, so please forgive me) that is in some way connected with whatever the header is. They are not in chronological order, but hopefully it shouldn’t be too confusing. There are also some shoutouts to some of the wonderful Batcat Fam sprinkled throughout the story as a sort of thank you for being such amazing friends. Also, thank you to Itzel for clarifying what dances Bruce may have actually learned in Mexico.

A Death By a Thousand Cuts Would Be Easier

Looking back on it, Selina gave a lot of things to Bruce Wayne. And when he left, each of those things cut her as they left with him. Her heart, her trust, her love all cut her as he flew away on a plane that didn’t have a seat on it for her. The wound he gave her when he left wasn’t what had nearly killed her. It had been the thousands of cuts those pieces of her had left.

My Heart

Selina’s heart felt like it was about to beat out of her chest. Obviously she knew that wasn’t possible, but it felt like it. She hadn’t even been a tenth as afraid as she was now when they had been fighting that stupid fence to try and get the necklace a hour ago. But making her next request was probably going to be the most terrifying thing Selina had ever done.

“Will you return it?” Selina asks, putting the pearl necklace on the table.

She couldn’t bear to do it herself. The very idea of walking into the house where Ivy had killed that scientist and acting like returning a stolen necklace was the same thing as bringing back the woman’s husband made Selina want to run and hide for the rest of her life. When she weighed the cost of returning the necklace herself against the terror that would accompany asking Bruce for such a personal and vulnerable favor, her fear of facing the woman whose life and necklace she had stolen was just ever so slightly more terrifying. She could trust Bruce to take her heart and not destroy it, but there was no way she would trust herself to return a necklace to a woman whose heart had been eviscerated while Selina took her pearls.

My Hips

Bruce claims he learned how to salsa when he was in Mexico. Selina thinks he’s lying but has no proof to back it up other than that a trip to Mexico does not fit into the timeline she’s working on forming of the past ten years of Bruce’s life since he skipped town. But, his salsa dancing was really good. Like, really, really good. It seemed insane that Bruce had left Gotham a decade ago unable to do much more than a basic waltz and returned a master of just about every style of dance they’ve encountered at galas thus far. Filing away a mental note to interrogate Bruce later about his new found dancing ability, Selina returned to focusing on the mission, searching the room for Penguin.

That is until Bruce moved his hands from her back and down to her hips and any hope she had of looking at anything other than Bruce’s eyes flew out the window.

My Body

Lying paralyzed in a hospital bed as she heard the sounds of Gotham falling to pieces around her was a nightmare so horrible Selina couldn’t even have imagined it. She still wakes up every couple of hours with a jolt and, sometimes, a scream from dreams that seem so real she expects Jeremiah to be the one grabbing her and not Bruce or Alfred or one of the nurses. It had been a week since everything had collapsed in on itself and her world had been torn apart by a bullet and the bombs that blew the bridges and she was only just now beginning to reach a point where she was willing to talk to Bruce. It was stupid to blame her new, useless body on him because he wasn’t the one who pulled the gun’s trigger. He hadn’t made her go to the manor that night. He hadn’t forced them to be friends. He hadn’t made her lie about seeing who killed his parents. But if she didn’t blame him for the bullet that might as well have ended her life, then the only person left in this hospital to blame would be herself. And, at the end of the day, it was better to believe she’d given up her body, her freedom, and her life for the boy who had spent the last 96 hours in a hospital chair next to her than to think about how all the choices that had led her to this moment were her own.

My Love

For a young woman whose entire appeal is that she slinks in and out of people’s lives like a cat with absolutely zero emotional connection to those she interacts with, Selina loves a surprisingly large number of people, places, and things. She loves to play with the cats who frequent her apartment. She loves the little Mexican bakery around the corner from Cornelia Street. She loves her collection of black leather jackets that has only continued to grow. She loves Gotham and punk music and greasy, cheap pizza and the way the sky turns pink as the sun sets and rises each day. But, and this is a fact she buries so deep down inside that it only has a chance to surface when she stays still for more than a handful of seconds, she loves Bruce Wayne at least as much as all of those things combined. She never really told him when he was in Gotham and she swears she’ll never tell him even if he comes back one day, but it’s a small fact she keeps tucked away and it makes her heart just a little bit more full than it was before.

Like a Bad Drug

Selina hadn’t done drugs before. It was a bit ridiculous considering she was 18 and had been living on the streets her whole life. Most kids with stories like hers got their first taste of drugs before they were 10, but Selina’s ability to pick pockets and get in and out of places undetected required her to be sober, so drugs had been firmly off the table. Other kids could be high and still get by, but if she was even the littlest bit not completely in her own head, any attempts she made to steal things would be a catastrophe.

Selina hadn’t done drugs before, but she also hadn’t been abandoned by Bruce Wayne without a good-bye beyond a small note before. Well, there’s a first time for everything, Selina thought as she snorted the white powder.

In a Haunted Club

Rumor has it that Bruce Wayne is in England. No one has any proof, but there are pictures of an heiress named Kayliegh wandering London with a guy dressed in all black who if you look at the picture from exactly the right angle and have no idea what Bruce looks like, could be the missing Wayne. But Selina actually knows what Bruce looks like, has memorized every line of his face and can still hear his laugh sometimes as she falls asleep. But the tabloids with the pictures were everywhere today and she’s tired of hearing his name whispered by Gothamites everywhere she goes.

So she heads to the Sirens and hopes the sound of the club will drown out the idea that maybe he had moved on and maybe he was in London and maybe she wasn’t part of his story anymore. The alcohol doesn’t help her shake the feeling that a ghostly Bruce Wayn is watching her from just outside of peripheral vision, but that’s not enough to dissuade her from taking another shot.

Our Songs

Once upon a time, Selina had tried to learn to play the ukulele. Someone had thrown the instrument in the trash when she was about seven and Selina had picked it out of the dumpster. It had been painted blue with a picture of a flower on it and she had plucked at the strings and dragged it along with her for a couple of weeks. In the end, it had been abandoned one day when she had to run from the police who were very intent on bringing her back to St. Maria’s. It had just been another one of her dreams that got discarded on a Gotham street, just like she had been.

A decade later she’s stuck in a hospital bed and the doctors are talking about how she needs to adjust to this new normal and that there are plenty of new skills she can learn that don’t require her to actually move much. Selina only half listens to them because the other half of her mind is occupied with trying to think of a reason to keep on going. Bruce brings her a ukulele the next day because he figures it’ll keep her mind off of the impending surgeries and that if she can at least learn one song maybe the doctors will stop hovering as much. They learn how to stumble through “Mary Had a Little Lamb” together and even though Selina doesn’t put any of her heart into the song, Bruce is enthusiastic enough for both of them.

Our Films

“You’re telling me you’ve never seen Star Wars?” Bruce is 15 and completely incredulous. Selina is curled into a ball on the couch, completely and utterly unperturbed by Bruce’s impending, Star Wars-induced breakdown.

“When was I supposed to have the time to sit down and watch a bunch of movies? It’s not like I have tons of downtime to spend watching Spock hit people with laser swords.” Selina gestures impatiently for the bowl of imported European chocolates by Bruce’s left hand while Bruce blinks in shock at his friend.

“Well, you have time now. I hope you’re comfortable because you’re not leaving here until you understand how wrong you are when you say that Star Wars is about Spock hitting people with laser swords.”

“Whatever. But if I’m going to be stuck here for eternity you better hand me that chocolate before I smother you with a pillow.”

Bruce hands her the candy and joins her on the couch as the opening crawl appears on the screen. What he doesn’t know is that Selina has a secret: She’s seen every second of Star Wars multiple times before, but she figured that a Star Wars marathon would be the ideal way for her to try every sweet in the Wayne manor. No one could say that Selina couldn’t play dumb when it suited her.

United We Stand

The Year the Bridges Blew always feels a bit like a dream when Selina looks back on it. She can’t quite pinpoint many details from the year and so much of it seems to fade when she thinks about it too hard. Granted, if it were up to most of the citizens of Gotham, that year would be erased from everyone’s mind so that they could all move forward without the looming fear that one day they will be trapped in their city again.

But there are some memories from that time that Selina wouldn’t erase. She likes to revisit the summer evening she spent one day with Bruce, lounging on a rooftop, watching some teens below trying to set off fireworks. Despite the kids' shouts, the claps of the fireworks, and the general noise that always seemed present in Gotham and hand only gotten louder since the bridges blew, the moment felt quiet. She had slipped her hand into his as a red firework had started and sputtered out and for a single, glorious evening she really felt that she had a teammate. Someone who would still be there the next morning and the morning after that and so on until they had no more mornings to wake up to. In that moment, she felt united with Bruce in a way she never had before. You’d have to offer her a fortune larger than the Waynes’ to get her to give up that memory.

Our Country, a Lawless Land

Gotham was Selina’s city. This fact was the only one she knew so well that it felt like it was ingrained in every muscle and sinew and bone and ligament in her body. She had been born here, had grown up here, had been abandoned here, had been killed by Jeremiah here and then brought back to life here. To try and separate Gotham from Selina would be like trying to separate a single thread from an intricate tapestry. It might be possible, but why would you even bother?

That’s why, no matter how hard she tries, Selina can’t understand why Bruce left, why he always kept leaving Gotham. They built their relationship on the sound of their feet running on Gotham’s street. They had laughed together on Gotham bridges. Had shouted and whispered declarations of love with Gotham’s skyline as their backdrop. Every single part of what made them them was entrenched in the city. And, somewhere in the back of her mind, Selina realized that if Bruce could leave Gotham, the city that had made him, then that meant he could leave her too.

Our Paper-Thin Plans

“I think I’d want a house with a window seat.”

“A window seat? Out of all the things a house could have, your request is for a window seat?”

“Yeah. I like them.”

“Do you spend a lot of time in the window seats back home?”

“Yeah, if you and Alfred aren’t bothering me that’s usually where I am.”

“How have I never noticed this? Alfred, did you know that Selina loves window seats? … Okay, how did everyone know this but me?”

“Maybe your powers of observation just aren’t as good as you think they are.”

“Fine. Whatever. I’ll make a note that when we rebuild the manor to add in more window seats.”

“You better or else I might have to find some other billionaire to hang out with because window seats are a deal breaker in this whole thing.”

My Time

Selina’s time is a valuable commodity. Every second she’s spending doing something is a second she could be casing a jewelry store or picking pockets downtown. But, sometimes even a young thief needs a night off. Selina’s plan is simple, she’ll feed her current cats- Isis and Coco- and then take a shower before eating some Chinese from the place across the street that always has just a bit too much food left over come closing time.

At least that was the plan before Bruce Wayne knocked on the door (He knocked. Like she paid rent for the place.) and asked if she was up to anything. Of course, when she planned on a quiet night, Bruce wanted her to keep him from dying on some fool’s quest. She only rolled her eyes once before grabbing her leather jacket and heading out the door. She’d always have time for him.

My Wine

Selina doesn’t usually drink wine. She’s had a variety of them, ranging in cost from a couple of bucks to more than a year’s worth of rent, and she honestly hasn’t liked any of them. But a couple of times a year since she’s turned 21, she gets a small invitation in the mail inviting her to a quiet dinner at the new Wayne manor. Alfred always pulls out a bottle of what he promises her is good wine and they usually finish it by the time dinner is pushed to the end of the table and desert is being savored. Sometimes the invitation is for a special date, like Christmas or Alfred’s birthday, but other times there is no rhyme or reason that Selina can discern for the dinner. This time the invitation comes and is signed by both Alfred and Bruce and a not small part of Selina is bitter that Bruce is trying to infringe on the bond that she and Alfred forged in, and because of, his absence. She doesn’t show up on the appointed date and instead hacks the Wayne bank account and makes a very generous donation to a local animal shelter in Bruce’s name. Alfred sends her a bottle of wine a few days after they were supposed to meet that he claims is spectacular. She can’t taste the difference between it and the box wine she bought one time.

My Spirit

Selina’s birthday is either December 1st or December 3rd. Maria says it’s the 1st, but all her official documents cite it as the 3rd. Selina knows it’s weird to not really know her birthday, but it’s not like she grew up with birthday parties so it never really was an issue. But then she accidentally reveals that she has two birthdays to Bruce when they’re 13 and suddenly these previously mostly meaningless days in December are arriving with more pomp and circumstance than she had ever anticipated.

They throw a party on the 1st with games and food and gifts at the manor. Alfred prepares all the fanciest foods and Selina is asked to wear a dress to the party. (She does, but she complains about it the whole time.) It’s a fun, if strange event, and Selina enjoys herself. But then the 3rd rolls around and she returns to her apartment exhausted from running all over town in the snow to find Bruce with an enormous pile of take out from at least half a dozen of her favorite restaurants. He’s brought a projector and some movies and pillows and blankets. They make a pillow fort before settling down with the food. Snuggled beneath a pile of blankets, with some old movie about a guy in a wheelchair spying on his neighbors from his window, Selina has a shining moment where she truly understands peace. For once her mind, her spirit, her body, her heart, every part of her, feels completely at peace. It’s the best birthday gift anyone could have given her.

My Trust

She doesn’t wear the ring on her finger for a multitude of reasons. It could get lost or she could scratch herself or it could get caught on something or it could be noticed by someone and then the whole world might know about the secret Selina had been carrying around for about two weeks. It isn’t that she is ashamed or embarrassed about the engagement, but she likes the idea that this particular moment is being shared only with the people she trusts to treat it with love and kindness. She knows that the world, that Gotham, will pry and pick at the happiness her engagement is giving her, but if she keeps the ring on a chain around her neck, close to her heart, then maybe she can keep this beautiful moment going just a bit longer.

A Thousand Cuts

The bells ring louder than she had expected but the crowd of people are even louder. Selina’s still not used to the public side of being connected with this new Bruce Wayne, but she loves the private part of him too much to be dissuaded by camera flashes and people shouting his name. As they race from the the entrance of the church (Martha and Thomas got married there, so Bruce felt getting married there was the closest he’d get to having his parents at his wedding) to the open car, she focuses on the rhythmic ringing of the bells, blocking out the shouts and questions and rice that is being thrown at her. And each ring seems to to call out to her:

Bong! Don’t give up on him.

Bong! He’s got you.

Bong! He may have cut you a thousand times…

Bong! But he’ll heal you a thousand and one.

[doublerumnukacola]

Addictionary

Present, Week 11 in the Wasteland

The Old State House was quiet, as usual. Only the occasional chat between Neighborhood watchmen was heard. It was one of the few things Goodneighbor and Diamond city had in common; their guards spent more time trading gossip than doing their jobs, left a lot of slack for Fahrenheit to pick up.

The air in Hancock’s office was musty and damp, the few sunbeams that filtered through the thick moth-eaten curtains were cluttered with dust motes and drifting smoke. Fahrenheit sat at the desk, holding her cigarette in one hand, and writing notes with the other. Hancock woke up on his couch, listening to the scratching of pen on paper, the long sighs of smoke, and the occasional murmur of something chess related.

He stretched out his sore limbs, hearing the familiar pops and creaks of his joints. He sat up slowly, propping his feet on the ground. His head was already starting to ache, he needed a hit of something. Jet was the obvious solution.

He rummaged around in the couch cushions, there was always a spare canister wedged in there. He struck gold as his finger wrapped around a dusty jet canister. He gave it an experimental puff to clear out anything stuck in the mouthpiece, last thing he needed was to choke on a piece of lint while inhaling brahmin dung fumes. He took a long hit, the chems burning into his lungs, spreading a shock of energy throughout his body.

“Why don't you just drink coffee like the rest of us?” Fahrenheit asked in her usual monotone.

“You kidding? You know how bad caffeine is for you?” He joked, “My Uncle drank coffee everyday since he was ten, dropped dead of a heart attack at twenty.”

“And coffee was what killed him?” She asked, a skeptical smile on her face.

“No, he was sleeping with some married dame in the stands, had a heart attack when her husband came home early. But the coffee didn't help.” She exhaled sharply, which was as close to rip-roaring laughter as he was going to get. She looked down at her notes for a moment.

“A few things happened while you were out, but nothing too noteworthy.” Fahrenheit mused. Hancock leant back and groaned. He hated these long reports he took another hit of jet, which wasn’t smart, it’d only make the lecture seem longer. “A caravan came in for Daisy, a few packages came for Doctor Amari, and piles of super mutant corpses are dotted around Goodneighbor.” Hancock coughed mid-hit as she finished her notes.

“What?!” He spluttered through coughing fits. She looked down at her papers again.

“The Vault dweller, aka the general of the minute men, aka the Silver Shroud, killed no less than eighty-two Super Mutants, judging by the amount of semi-intact corpses.” Hancock rubbed his skull, he could feel the headache starting to come back.

“Any reason why?” He asked, it felt as though there was something he was forgetting but it wasn't quite coming back to him….

“Because you asked.” A voice answered behind him.

“Pawn takes king…” Fahrenheit muttered to herself in amusement. Hancock stood up slowly, doing his best to grin at Sole who was standing in the doorway, looking particularly chipper.

“Right on cue, Sister.” He greeted, but the gaps in his memory were still bugging him. “But catch me up on when exactly I set you up on this little job.” Sole frowned.

“The other night, at the Third Rail when you… Never mind.” She started, but thought better of finishing the story. “Consider it my way of being a good Neighbor.” She winked, before turning to leave.

“Hey, where’re you going, killer?” Hancock called after her.

“Got business with Kleo. Bullets don’t buy themselves.” She called back. He had to smile at that. He heard the State House door shut behind her and turned to face Fahrenheit.

“How long was I out?” He asked seriously.

“Since I found you passed out on this sofa, it's been about a day and a half. Not the longest you've ever been out, but it's up there.” She replied, glancing at her notes again. “Last reports show you leaving the Third Rail, the Vault dweller hanging on you, heading towards the Rexford Hotel, entering the hotel, and you leaving a while after that, alone.” Hancock fought through the fog, trying to remember. He vaguely remembered speaking to Charlie….

“Take a mentat, usually jogs your memory.” Fahrenheit advised. It irked him, but she was right. He popped open the tin, only a few left. He dumped the contents into his mouth, crunching the mints into a peppermint paste. He could feel the fog instantly clear. It came back to him in a flash.

“Oh shit I did ask her to do that.” He grumbled, “Why did I think that was a good idea?” She checked her notes again.

“We discussed the growing Super Mutant problem three days ago.” Fahrenheit explained. “I suggested a perimeter of plasma mines to deter them, but you made the point that it would also deter caravans and drifters coming in. Your solution was to send someone to take out the closer nests, without getting attention from the larger ones. In addition, we both noted that some were necessary to keep the raider population distracted.”

“I don't remember that last part…” Hancock cut in. Fahrenheit looked up from her papers.

“As we were discussing this, I noted that you’d had two tins of mentats. You were ‘delightfully rational’. That’s a quote.” Hancock shuddered. Two tins was a lot, even for him. He'd have to take it easy.

“Fine, and I guess we decided to send in our personal atom-bomb as a solution?” He hazarded a guess. She shook her head.

“You just said you would take care of it. Next thing I hear is that everything within a miles radius of Goodneighbor has been shot, blown to pieces, or in one instance permanently spasming in in a pile of garbage.” Hancock gave her a confused look. She looked down at her notes.

“Yeah, says right here: ‘permanently spasming in a pile of garbage’. She shrugged her shoulders. Hancock adjusted his hat, pulling it further up his brow.

“Well, gives the Raiders something to… She killed them too. Didn't she?” Hancock asked tiredly. She nodded.

“There's good news, though.” She added. “The lack of threats was what brought in the ‘packages’ to Doctor Amari. Got a lot of positive attention from our friends on the freedom trail. The bald one in sunglasses has been snooping around more than usual. I suppose he likes to think that drifter outfit is fooling someone.” She smirked.

Hancock groaned, that guy really got under what was left of his skin. Something about all the cloak and dagger routine really clashed with his way of doing shit. He needed another tin of mentats, he could already feel the haze returning. He reached into the cushions again hoping he’d be lucky a second time.

Fahrenheit frowned, it seemed too soon for his high to be wavering. He successfully fished out a bent tin of Mentats, popping it open and topping up his high. She knew if she attacked directly he’d shut her out.

“Hancock...” She started, but he knew that voice. He shot her a look. She cleared her throat, trying to adjust her tone. “Have you ever considered a fresh start?”

“Pardon?” Hancock asked in surprise, expecting one of her lengthy lectures.

“A clean slate. Starting over.” Fahrenheit reiterated. “Have you given it some thought?” Hancock crossed his arms, studying her expression. Nothing was straight forward with Fahrenheit, and there was a point to this. But he took the bait anyway. “Sure, the idea’s appealing. Get out on the open road again, bring the fight to someone else for a change, rather than wait for it to bang on my front door.” He answered with a shrug. “But a town needs its Mayor, otherwise the shit show falls in on itself.” Fahrenheit gave a soft snort.

“I’ve grown up here, Hancock.” She countered. “Until Vic came in and took over, the place did fine running itself. A figurehead Mayor would run it just as well as a real one.” Hancock looked away.

Nobody understood Goodneighbor like Fahrenheit. She’d never travelled far from it, knew every inch of it, every soul that passed through its gates. He’d watched her grow up on his visits from Diamond City, back when he still had a nose. So if she said it could live without him, he believed her.

“What brought this on?” He asked. “Getting a bit too cosy behind that desk?”

“You’ve been distracted from the second you met the Vault dweller.” Fahrenheit replied bluntly.

“Pfft, ‘the second’ I saw her?” He questioned skeptically. “How do you figure?” She flipped back through a stack of notes and pulled out a sheet of paper.

“You stabbed Finn.”

“He had it coming.”

“Then you introduced her to Goodneighbor.”

“Obviously, introductions always come off friendlier after cold-blooded murder.”

“After she walked away, you stepped into a lamp post.”

“Bullshit.”

“Says right here in my notes, ‘stepped into a lamp post’ followed by ‘Threats to all witnesses.”

“Tell me Sunglasses wasn’t there…”

“I could tell you that, but I would be lying.”

Hancock sighed. It was true, if it weren’t for Fahrenheit and Sole, he’d be out on his ass right now, probably with a few more bullet holes than he was comfortable with.

“Say I went along with this.” He started. “Where would I go?”

“Where ever the Vault-dweller takes you, i’d imagine.” She guessed, rearranging her notes. “Now that she’s back to business as usual, she won’t be staying much longer.” Hancock thought for a moment.

“You seem to have this all planned out…” He observed.

“It’s my job.” She replied, grinding out her cigarette. She looked away for a moment. “There is one condition, though.” He knew it was coming and it still pissed him off.

“Cut the bullshit and tell me.” He snapped, rubbing his forehead in annoyance. He popped a few more mentats, it cleared up the pain a little.

“See Amari about what we discussed…” She started hesitantly. “About the fixer-”

“Really, all that for another lecture on chems?” He asked, anger starting to boil off of him.

“You need it this time.” She insisted. “You can’t go five minutes without taking something. How do you plan on surviving in the wastes if you keep looking for a fix?” He was silent. He had a problem. The words were on her lips, but she knew better than to say it. The cliché was too much.

“You don’t have to go clean completely. You just need to get to a point where you can use chems again, rather than them using you.” He groaned, she was right. How was she this good without a pick-me-up?

“You got me.” He conceded. “But you sure you guys will be fine without me? I don’t want to come back to a smoking crater.”

“Unlikely,” She mused. “The Vault dweller hauled in enough guns and armour this morning to weaponize every drifter and Watchmen for a year. Kleo is still leaking lubricant over the hoard.” Something clicked. Sole and Kleo…? He fought through the haze.

“Hold it…” Hancock cut in. “If she's already shown Kleo a good time today, why did she say she was going there just now?” Fahrenheit shrugged.

“I suppose she lied.” Fahrenheit hazarded a guess. Hancock’s head was working overtime. Why would she lie…? Shit, Daisy….

“Where did that caravan blow in from?” Hancock asked frantically. Fahrenheit looked down at her notes, then frowned.

“Some place called…” She squinted at the writing. “The Republic of… Dave? It's somewhere in the-”

“Capital Wasteland.” Hancock finished for her, already flying down the stairs.

----------------------------------------------------------------

“-Sorry, sugar, I haven't seen head or tails of him since he left weeks back.” Daisy apologised.

“Are you sure he hasn't… hasn't even sent a letter?” Sole pressed, her voice lowered to just a hoarse whisper. Daisy shook her head, a sad look in her eyes… A sad and guilty look.

Hancock watched from the doorway, caught between wanting to give Sole space, and wanting to investigate what Daisy was hiding for himself. He compromised, knocking on the doorway to announce his presence. The two women looked up, Sole pausing to clear her throat and wipe the corners of her eyes. Funny, this was the same woman who left at least eighty-two Super Mutants dismembered at his doorstep.

“Hate to Interrupt, but word on the street is there there’s going to be a pretty groovy shindig at the Third Rail tonight, thought I’d extend an invitation to a few lovely ladies.” Hancock grinned, strolling into Daisy’s store.

“What are you doing here then? Kleo’s next door.” Sole joked, clearing her throat to mend the cracks in her voice.

“Kleo’s no good at parties that don’t involve target practice.” Hancock started to explain.

“So what’s the occasion?” Sole asked, a little curious. “Isn't everyday with you a party?”

“Flattering, but this one’s special. It's a farewell party.” He explained. Sole opened her mouth to ask more, but Hancock gave a wave of his hand. “Working out party details with Fahrenheit, but I’ll be back to see you later, Daisy. To sort out some, ‘party supplies’.” He finished, eyeing Daisy, who refused to meet his gaze. With that he turned and strode off, head already starting to fog up. He was going to need to be at the top of his game tonight.

[comeondowntosouthparkrpg-blog]

Penelope “Porsche” Nuñez

I'm so glad you applied, everyone here is such a loser, but you seem cool. Porsche has been accepted! You know what to do, boo.

out of character info

Name/Alias: Jenn

Pronouns: she/her

Age: 20

Join Our Discord: ye

Timezone: Central

Activity: 8

Triggers: n/a

Password: jimmy can fast pass my ass

Character that you’re applying for: Porsche

Favourite ships for your character: Porsche/Education

  in character info

Full name: Penelope “Porsche” Nuñes

Birthday: July 14th

Sexuality, gender, pronouns: bi for a good time, female, she/her

Age and grade: 17, senior

Appearance:

Head: Of course she’s perfect. No freckles or spots or anything on her skin. It’s smooth, soft, taken care of daily. Her skin is dark and even, something she always takes pride in. The only thing she’s more proud of is her eyebrows, which are always done perfectly. She’ll literally fight a bitch if anyone insults them. Her lips are always covered in lipstick of any sort, mainly nude, plump and pursed. Her hair is long, wavy, just as beautiful and healthy as her skin. How does she always look like she’s glowing? It could be genetics, or it if could be intense and dedicated self-care.

Body: Standing at an average height of 5’4, Porsche has adapted easily to everyone in school being like seven feet taller than her. She’s slim and fit, taking time out of her day to hit the gym and practice meditation and yoga. She makes it a point to keep her body in top shape, and has even started running recently. Her vegan lifestyle also helps. In conclusion, she’s thin, very healthy, very fit, and could definitely king pigeon pose you to death.

Personality: Where Porsche lacks in smarts, she makes up for in heart. Literally. She doesn’t have a mean bone in her body, and doesn’t curse at all. If described by friends, they’d say she was the sweetest bad bitch to have ever bad bitched. Her naturally kind and sympathetic personality is a learned trait, as her known relatives are all sweet and generous. Must run in the family. Something that didn’t run in the family was her talkative nature. It’s not that she liked to hear the sound of her voice, she just had a lot to say and she really didn’t like quiet moments. She’ll go from talking about animals, to trees, to her family, to mars, to everything else. Talking was her favorite thing in the world.

Don’t take her overly gentle way of treating people fool you, she’s not easily manipulated. Whenever something sketchy happens, she always messages her older and smarter sisters, or the Raisins’ Girls. Those women one hundred percent have her back always, and she can safely listen to them whenever. Things flew over her head easily, and she doesn’t understand what the feeling of upset is, but she was the happiest and nicest girl anyone could meet.

History:

It all started 1997 in Beja, Portugal. Alfonso Nuñes, 19, and Edite Silva, 17, had just met and fell in love the same night. A couple of days later and they were on the run from their disapproving family. They worked all day every day for months before they could afford to get married, like they had talked about their first night together. They lived poor, paycheck to paycheck, but they were in deep love, cherished each other, and would take a bullet for one another at any time. Everyone who had met them knew just how much they meant to each other. They legitimately couldn’t live without one another. They were each other’s number one. That was, until they had their first daughter.

The first was a miracle. They couldn’t afford a doctor, and they couldn’t go back to their families for help. They thought they only had each other, but when they looked at their beautiful baby girl, they knew they had more. It wasn’t until two daughters later and another surprise pregnancy that they decided that maybe they didn’t have enough.

The girls were starting to get sick, three babies with a fourth on the way wasn’t the best idea, considering their financial situation. Alfonso and Edite considered going back to their families, sucking up their pride and letting their children finally meet their horrible, love-hating grandparents, but a coworker of Alfonso told him about the wonderful country of the United States. It took time, planning, and illegal actions, but by the time the new baby was born, they were safely inside their best bet of survival. The daughter was named Penelope, after the parents had heard the name being whispered among locals. It sounded beautiful.

Coming into the States and trying to build a life wasn’t easy. They had trouble with the law, immigration was a constant fear. But they went day by day, trying harder and harder to get citizenship passed. Alfonso worked hard to bring home food and clothing for his four daughters and wife, while Edite worked hard to raise the children with love and respect. All their hard work paid off when the girls were finally allowed in school.

Penelope knew of the struggles the family had. Her sisters worked behind their parents back after school, trying to bring home just a couple more dollars to help. She wanted to do the same. So, she applied and got hired onto Raisins, a job that erased her beautiful name in favor of something materialistic, and a job her parents would not be proud of whatsoever. But she made a lot of money there, tips and all. She would slip the money into her dad’s jacket pocket, act like he forgot it in there, and enjoy the overwhelming happiness on her parents’ faces when they crunched the numbers for the month.

Because she worked so much, she neglected school often, sometimes skipping in favor for extra shifts. But in her mind it was worth it. It was worth the loss of education. It was worth the missed opportunities of friendships. Sometimes she herself wouldn’t think so, but the moment she saw her oldest sister walk the stage of graduation, then the twins, the exact moment she saw the looks on her parents faces, the pride and love, Penelope didn’t regret it.

Over the years, she grew to love her job. Her coworkers were her best friends. Her sisters were living the best lives their parents had struggled and worked so hard to give them. Penelope took it upon herself to do the same. It was her senior year of high school, it was time to get serious about education, and it was time to live the best life she could.

Sample paragraph:

“Hi, welcome to Raisins!” Porsche smiled big, the tray in her hand shaking just a little as her attention was pulled towards the door. It was a regular with his buddy. Her regular. She knew she’d get a big tip out of them already, but to milk even more out she tried to remember details exactly about them. They were a little older than her, college roommates going to school for some sport. They all start to bleed together eventually, but Porsche was sure once she started talking to them it’ll all come back.

After leaving the tray in the kitchen for the dishwasher to clean, she stopped by the mirror to adjust her appearance before making her way towards her new table. She’s been trained to flirt, talk, and sway her hips just the right amount to get these boys buying nearly everything on the menu. Though she felt bad in the end, felt like she was lying or leading on the hundreds of boys she serves every day, it was her job in the end. And these boys knew that. When they left, she cleaned up after them, picked up their generous tip, and greeted the next customers that came in. And then the next. Then the next.

Headcanons:

-          Her sisters’ names are Cassandra, Chica, and Vitoria. Chica and Vitoria are twins, and all of them are close in age.

-          The sisters are very similar in looks as well, Chica and Vitoria even more so. Penelope always jokes that they’re actually quadruplets.

-          She loves yoga, meditation, spiritual stuff. She’s really interested in crystals and chakras, but she dares not collect them in fear her parents would disown her for “being a witch”.

-          She’s mainly into men, but if a party was going on and she was having fun, she’ll dabble with women as well.

-          Her parents to this day are still madly in love and it’s very adorable.

-          She is happily the cheerleader of all her friends, family, classmates, everyone.

[peilinsirpale]

We've got it good here

For the @solarpunkstoryexchange Prompt: solarpunk in SPACE (in space colonies, in deep space)

Author notes: I got really excited about the prompt, but fell a bit short due to not being able to work out a plot or time to write. Because of these reasons, this has been mostly left on the brainstorming stage - It starts with a bit of a story and changes into brainstorming bullet points, which span about 3 generations (or more) of people living in the place. I hope you enjoy reading it!

A couple wants a kid. Or, to be more precise, a lesbian couple on the Mars colony decides they want to try getting a kid. Their friends and local colleagues agree to the plan. The Mars colony is a close-knit community, and they collectively decide that they will love and support the kid, whatever they are like. Whether they are rowdy or quiet. Whether they’re scientific or artistic. Whatever gender they are. Whether they're disabled or not.

The earth control doesn't like the idea, but they can't control what the Martians do, only do their best to adapt and help.

The first try- no. Second - another loss. Every pregnancy is keeping the whole Mars base at their toes. Constant checkups. Mental wellbeing regulated as well as physical health. The possibly pregnant woman is given less intense work and sports. She isn't allowed out of the areas with best radiation screening. She does still work, she has to, but she also spends a lot of time studying various things. Stuff about pregnancy, about children, but also music and literature and other kinds of arts. About all kinds of problems that may arise, but also about how to best take care of a child in general.

Her wife does a lot of studying, too, just as everyone else on the base. But she also takes the extra time to be with her pregnant partner. In all honesty, so does everyone. In some way, the child will be all of theirs. While in some way, they will be a child of all of humanity.

When the pregnancy doesn't end near the beginning, and then continues well for months, they are hopeful. And when a baby is born, after several years of trying, the Mars base celebrates. And far away, people on Earth celebrate the first human born off-planet.

As a small kid, the Mars-born child is unaware of their celebrity status on Earth. They will learn what it means, but not yet.

Brainstorming:

"what do you mean i can’t have a hydroponics in my room"

Mars!!

Planting plantsies; Bacterial protein; Critters?

"Is this something I can plant in? What if I add compost?" "Hey can we do smth of this plastic? Melt it? Sun? New packages?" Wind power in Mars?

"Uh-huh wanna be the dad of my kid?" "I'm gay" "It is dangerous™ but I want a kid let’s do it" "Ur their dad but also godfather"

Aka a lesbian couple and a gay guy decide to get kids. The kid lives with lesbians but dad is integrated in life and lives in the neighbourhood

How is it solarpunk? Do they decide to do it or something else despite being prohibited?

Closed loop system

Growing culturally significant stuff even though it’s inefficient - Doing, too

Everything that can be recycled, is recycled

Outside soil made usable via mixing with compost and growing stuff that can extract nutritients from it

3d printing

What plot? Everyday life plot?

Is there a lot of scarcity?

Do they have their own internet places? Earth internet connection, but slow? Friends at earth or other space colonies???

What if someone wants to move there? Exchange student? Could someone from earth be?

Friend with the aforementioned Mars-born kid? A science enthusiast - space kid more of an art person

Jump jump!! Very popular and also healthy. Climbing too!

Exchange students bring lots of Earth stuff with them. Some personal items, but mostly small things. For all, some spices not grown on mars, and other stuff they may need/ want / have requested.

Exchange students/new residents, how many? Five or ten? An nb person too!

Had lots of stuff to digitally read when on long travel. Travel is tiring and they ate mostly packed food bc it’s easy in zero-gravity (but also fresh vegetables that grow fast, and stuff grown in poo made compost - or is it just collected for use in mars? Probs. Other grown veggies)

Getting to know each other on the flight, also gotten to know each other on the before-launch stuff. One had to drop out at the last minute due to health problems :(

When on mars: “whoa there’s gravity!! How do I get used to this again??”

People of different professions. Some doctor, some scientist, some engineer, some person person like psychologist or smth

People exercise but also do crafts. Lots of 3d-printed stuff. Games!! Also on space flight! Full body sport games! Brain games! Very regular favorite games!

Lots of lag on online stuff though :( But lesser quality = ok and faster

Gardeners!!

So much focus on learning. And everyone got to do something, whatever they can. Even if they’d rather do art? Are ppl forced to exercise? Ableism what? How much is there of it?

Growing lights and lamps. Some, in living areas, syntethise daylight and night, some, in agricultural areas, are continuously on

Mostly plants that are small but wield lots of fast food, but some less fast food for special treats (like fruits from small pruned “bonsai trees")

A large open hall for sports, including stuff like soccer, tennis, and various team sports

At first the place is very small. It grows. The amount of ppl grows from less than 10 to more than 30. When the exchange students come, more than 50 - maybe around 70?

Someone rich gets there with their money? But is made to learn to do work and use the money not for themself but for the community. Is taught social and coworking skills etc.

Most people: problem? Research!

Several do digital art to some degree - or blog! Blog a lot. Or tweet or such. Videos! Of what life on Mars is like. Everyone must be aware that the public is interested.

Most time is spent in public areas. Work is often done in small groups. All specialised in something, but can do basics in everything.

Solar panels! Lots! On top of where the hub is underground.

Marswalks done rarely, and remote-controlled robots are used a lot. Robo bees! Roombas! Farming robots!

“Exchange students" the first few with not much previous experience. A bit less that 200 into tests, then maybe a hundred into further ed and evaluation, then a few dozen into training. Finally, about 10 best chosen. This way, younger people. Around 25 to 30 when to Mars. With a few more qualified people.

Biologists manage gardens. Engineers manage repairing and building new and 3d-printers.  Doctors manage health. Chemists manage various stuff. Earth can always tell info and such when needed.

Downloaded books, online searches and videos though slow-ish to load. Calls and video conferences. New clothes from hemp grown on Mars!

Induction stove. Lots of food made by once. Stable food: beans? Sugar from where? GMO is used a lot. Sugar beets? Lots of new seeds brought every time something arrives - about every 2.5 years or longer. Good thing: no/few pests. Not many animals, possibly rats?

Most walls filled with stuff, esp. in older areas. Everyone owns not too many clothes. Maybe up to 5 outfits. Every time stuff is brought, they can wish for some. Not much though. A lot is 3d-printed on-site. Few personal belongings - most is co-owned. Works when there are few people and everyone knows everyone.

Baby gets clothes, most made of stuff grown on mars. Cutting made so it doesn’t trash fabric. Clothes are mended because making new takes a lot of resources. Kids’ clothes made a few sizes too big or so they can be easily expanded when they grow.

When exchange students come, there are a few kids. Maybe 3 who were born on Mars.

Kids are familiarized with work on Mars. Curriculum specialised for life on Mars. Made in unison with teaching experts on earth. No rigid school days, but a lot of learning. To work with the adults, though with an extra person to make sure they don’t mess things up.

A lot is automated. Taking care of the automated stuff is important.

Kids are not let into older parts. There are lots of things they may accidentally pull, and worse radiation filtering. They have some toys, 3d-printed. A few plushies, part or mostly made of extra fabric scraps

Space travel done in sleeping bags, they keep them when they come to mars.

Phones/laptops/equivalent for all. VR for games and learning! AR glasses?

Jewelry? Someone likes making it. Clothes, too - and customising! Recipes have to be fitted for Mars. Some people love trying them out.

Kid has a bit bad eyesight.

Main languages English & Russian

When did ppl first decide to *stay*? And not just spend a few weeks/months/years? “Hello we're looking for people willing to live on Mars" or “Hello we’re not leaving" ?

Mars colony grows. Also “Hey we’ve lived here for ages and I like my home planet I want to be independent"

There have been a few generations. Maybe this is the third gen. Someone child of one of the first marsborns. Is older - in 20s or 30s or smth

There is a growing community. Mostly scientists. But maybe a few other professions there too

Someone gets to make food! Communal eating almost daily or more - lunch or dinner? Dinner probably. Lunch often in work groups

Cultural feasts and celebrations are shared if applicable. Seasonings are valuable

Lots is made in laboratory. Even food like meat, but mostly medications etc.

People have to do some work and learn new stuff as long as they can. However most get significant osteoporosis when older. Eyesight loss is another difficulty, but there is an optical station that can make glasses. Things also start being adjusted for use with reduced eyesight.

Should it be somewhere else than Mars?

Over the years, parts of the base are adjusted to become as natural as possible, introducing new species into their ecosystem. Main agricultural areas are kept hydroponics, and some get turned into aquaponics systems (=includes fish, which also can occasionally be used as food)

Settlement at around equator or at middle to pole, on a flat area

Room- or apartment-like parts connected to each other by hallways. Old parts and newer parts. 1 floor and sometimes 2 OR MORE!!Like a department store!! Especially some housing areas. Or like a cruise ship with a “promenade" and rooms with windows there? Elevators?

Climbing is loved and easy because of the lower gravity, but it needs to be made safe because breaking a bone is very not good.

[lucyariablog]

The No-Fail Formula for Creating Killer Webinar Content

Webinars are an important yet underrated content marketing tactic. They provide you the opportunity to create a more interactive content format for your audience. They also are one of the top five types of content that can naturally attract links to your site.

But, as of now, it seems not enough B2B or B2C companies excel in webinar creation (or they don’t host them). I compiled this list of the tips and tools that will help even novice marketers create highly effective webinar content.

HANDPICKED RELATED CONTENT: Ultimate Planning Checklist for Successful Webinars

1. Pick a narrow topic

One major mistake made by organizers is picking a generic topic because they are so eager to share their knowledge. They end up trying to fit everything they know in a short time.

Pick a topic or area narrow enough to address points in such a way that your audience will derive some benefit. Progress in a singular direction with that topic.

For example, instead of creating a webinar about social media marketing, Search Engine Land created a webinar on providing customer service through social media. This angle is relevant to its audience given that it educates on the broader topics of SEO, search engine marketing, and social media.

HANDPICKED RELATED CONTENT: How Topic Modeling Can Strengthen Your SEO and Content Marketing Strategy

2. Decide the best format for the topic

You will have to decide on which webinar format to use before you can create the content. What format will work well depends on the topic and the speaker(s).

Interview webinars

An interview with an influential expert in your industry can happen over the phone, on-screen, or through a screen share. One of the most engaging webinar formats, it also presents a chance that the guest goes off script.

Provide the expert with a list of questions a couple of weeks before the webinar. Ask them to prepare the answers in advance so you can get an idea of what they will be. Review it together and discuss your needs and expectations before going live.

The Lewy Body Dementia Association had an interview about clinical trials with Dr. Daniel Kaufer. An expert in cognitive neurology and memory disorders, Dr. Kaufer was the perfect guest expert for the webinar.

Q&A webinars

A bit like interviews, a Q&A involves questions from the audience, which tends to lead to a high engagement rate. Collect the questions before the webinar to vet them and pick the most relevant. Pre-selecting the questions also will ensure that the webinar sticks to its designated duration.

Q&A #webinars w/ an industry expert lead to a high engagement rate, says @shane_barker. Click To Tweet

An expert from the industry or within your organization works well in these formats. It can be a great opportunity for your audience to directly address your company’s executives.

The Functional Medicine Coaching Academy provided the audience with an option to submit questions for an upcoming Q&A webinar with Dr. Sandra Scheinbaum, the CEO and founder. Asking for audience questions in advance is an excellent tactic to ensure that people tune in for the live webinar to see if their questions will be answered.

Panel discussion webinars

Instead of interviewing one expert, you could bring together a panel of experts to discuss a topic. This is a great way to provide your audience with different perspectives. Make sure the panelists are properly prepped for the format and get along with each other for the webinar to go smoothly. Often, a moderator is helpful to facilitate the discussion.

In May, Qt hosted a panel discussion webinar in which the speakers discussed security and the Internet of Things. In addition to experts within the company, the webinar featured experts from Ubuntu and INTEGRITY Security Services.

Presentation webinars

This type of webinar seems to be the most common across a variety of industries. It involves having someone present a PowerPoint presentation accompanied by a pre-written speech. Perhaps the reason behind the popularity is that they’re easier to create. However, they may not be as engaging as you want them to be if the presenter isn’t enthusiastic or experienced with the format.

Also, keep in mind how you want to show the presenter and the presenter’s information. In this Harvard Business Review-hosted webinar on continuous value improvement in health care presented by Dr. Kedar S. Mate, the doctor speaks as a voiceover while the PowerPoint presentation is displayed on the screen.

  3. Create a structure

Don’t just wing the webinar. You need to clearly define the session to ensure that you head in the right direction. Even in interview and Q&A formats, where a detailed script (see below) may not be feasible, craft a road map to follow.

Any webinar should include the following elements: a compelling introduction, order of main points to be addressed, motivating close, and, in many cases, a relevant call to action. This helps the session stay on the path and avoid straying from the topic.

Create a structure for your #webinar to avoid straying from the topic, says @shane_barker. Click To Tweet

Look at this webinar description from TechGig. It reads like the outline, including the key points of discussion. You could do something similar and clearly lay out a plan for your audience so they know what you’ll be discussing and at what time.

  4. Write a compelling script

An engaging webinar needs to have a script that’s powerful and interesting. You can use a lot of facts and stats, but make sure the tone speaks to your target audience. It can be a challenging task to keep an audience engaged for more than 30 minutes. Tell a story that will draw the audience to the session and keep them listening.

Including examples to illustrate the script points often helps the audience better understand the information. When possible, incorporate the audience into these examples to make it even clearer how they can benefit from the webinar.

5. Improve the slides

Carefully design your slides for readability and aesthetics. Here are some best practices to do that:

Don’t include too much text, which can overwhelm your audience.

Leave visual space between points.

Avoid using paragraphs; break them into bullet points.

Add plenty of visuals – images, graphs, charts, etc. – to support your points.

Include a closing slide that includes thanks to your audience, contact information of presenters and host, and a call to action.

The tools

To create more engaging webinar content, tap the power of technology. Here are a few of my favorite tools.

ClickMeeting

ClickMeeting is easy to use and comprehensive. You can invite your audience to a dedicated webinar room, create whiteboards and presentations, conduct polls or surveys, and record screen-sharing sessions.

The tool also lets you record your webinar, download it, and share it long after the event has ended. My favorite feature of this tool is the webinar and attendee statistics.

You can see how many people attended the webinar, the type of devices they used, and the country where they logged in. Using this feature, you can also get a visual representation of the poll statistics. You can then use these insights to enhance future webinars. For example, if most of the attendees are using mobile, creating content that works best for mobile viewing would be essential.

Use a tool like @clickmeeting to help you before, during, and after your #webinar, says @shane_barker. Click To Tweet

ClickMeeting offers pricing models primarily based on the expected number of participants. Plans start at $25 per month for up to 25 attendants and two presenters.

HANDPICKED RELATED CONTENT: Is Your Content Ready for the Mobile Takeover?

SlideDog

SlideDog is a platform where you can create multimedia presentations. You can include charts, web pages, and videos in the slides to engage your audience better. Use its polling and comment features to make the presentation more interactive.

Use a tool like @TheSlideDog to help you create interactive multimedia presentations, says @shane_barker. Click To Tweet

A live chat feature encourages the audience to participate in a discussion. The platform also enables you to collect anonymous feedback, which could be helpful in adjusting the content or improving future presentations.

SlideDog offers a freemium pricing model, with SlideDog Pro starting at $14.99 per month.

OBS Studio

When I started out and had budget limitations, OBS Studio was my savior for recording my screen sessions. The software can help you prepare detailed tutorial videos. In addition to recording your screen activity, the software lets you record from your webcam and your microphone. It also lets you add existing images and videos you might need for your webinar.

.@Techradar’s OBS Studio is great for small budgets & for recording screen sessions. @shane_barker Click To Tweet

OBS Studio is free and open-source software. Download it and you’re good to go.

Canva

I recommend Canva if you’re looking for a free solution to create high-quality presentations but don’t have any design experience. The platform has several presentation layouts. You can change the fonts, add graphics, etc. I love this platform because it’s so easy to use and the quality of the layouts is professional.

Use @Canva if you’re looking for a free solution to create high-quality presentation layouts. @shane_barker. Click To Tweet

Canva follows a freemium pricing model with the Canva for Work package starting at $12.95 a month.

Piktochart

Piktochart is another tool I recommend for marketers who wish to spruce up their webinars with visuals. You can create infographics and presentations using pre-existing templates.

Marketers can use @piktochart to spruce up #webinars w/ pre-existing visual templates, says @shane_barker. Click To Tweet

You can sign up for free and gain access to several templates, icons, and images to use for your infographics and presentations. Piktochart offers two pricing models ($15 or $29 a month).

HANDPICKED RELATED CONTENT: 37+ Tips and Tools for Picture-Perfect Visual Content

Conclusion

Creating better content for your webinar starts with the topic selection. Pick one with a narrow focus that will clearly address the needs and/or issues of your target audience. With that decision and following the tips provided, you should have no trouble engaging your webinar audience in the future. Got any questions? Let me know in the comments.

Please note: All tools included in our blog posts are suggested by authors, not the CMI editorial team. No one post can provide all relevant tools in the space. Feel free to include additional tools in the comments (from your company or ones that you have used).

Cover image by Joseph Kalinowski/Content Marketing Institute

The post The No-Fail Formula for Creating Killer Webinar Content appeared first on Content Marketing Institute.

from http://contentmarketinginstitute.com/2018/01/formula-webinar-content/

[wellnessroutines]

11 Life lessons I Have Learned In My 20s So Far

The a lot more I familiarize who I am, the a lot more I enjoy I am not the person, that at 16 I assumed I needed to grow up to end up being. Below is what I have learned.

I keep in mind when one of my Sister's was 26. It appeared so old. It looked like she had it all identified, so I made the presumption that when I turned 26 I would certainly have kids, a house with a white picket fencing and a workplace task. Not that she had the two latter points, but because, you know #adulting appeared like you required something of the equivalent.

Now that I am 26 I do not have kids, actually, one youngster isn't really even on my radar. They're charming and all, yet I feel like I must be able to keep a simple house plant to life prior to I branch out into needing to be a Mom. I do reside in a balcony with a white picket fence, yet I am leasing, due to the fact that I stay in Sydney and I do not have an extra 1.6 Million dollars to offload.

The many more I familiarize who I am, the a lot more I like I am not the person, who at 16 I thought I needed to mature to come to be. I still have no idea where my life will take me which's kind of amazing. I'm entirely great with not having it determined. It's rather noticeable I am not alone on this as well as that individuals as a whole normally have no clue just what they're doing. We're all still finding out and also evolving.

I am still so far away from figuring every little thing out yet I assume my twenties have actually been such an understanding curve so far. I have actually lived in four various places, transformed occupations, started my own business, fulfilled my soul companion, obtained married as well as I have overcome significant difficulties - I seem like a different individual than I did 6 years ago. I am a person that understands things aren't completion of the life. I am now a person who takes possibilities on things and also most notably, myself. I am now a person who sticks to points I think in.

I have actually found out so lots of points I wish I had have understand when I was more youthful, since subsequently, they may have made things easier, however I think that is all apart of expanding up. Today, I believed I would certainly share some things I have found out in my 20s - possibly some are comparable to yours.

YOU HAVE TO STRIVE TO GET WHAT YOU WANT

I was chatting to JD the various other day and I was claiming just how when I was in years 10 with to year 12, I didn't really understand exactly what to anticipate in the "real life". What 16-17 year old would? Over the past 6 years I have actually functioned tough to get to goals, and also I will continue to do so since I enjoy working as well as have commitment to achieving points I desire to attain. I have absolutely found out that success doesn't take place over night which the only individual in control of your future is you, so you far better damn hustle.

HEALTH IS EVEN MORE CRUCIAL COMPARED TO APPEARANCES

When you're a young adult your viewpoint is a little deformed when it pertains to appearances vs health. You're so hopeless to fit in that you never ever really consider the ramifications of your actions. 2 years ago I had a large cyst eliminated from my tongue. I still have the mark as well as the memories of how painful it was. I unreasonably left the cyst on my tongue and maintained postponing visiting the doctors. I finally bit the bullet eventually and obtained a reference and after that had the treatment done. Examination outcome returned and it was benign, yet the doctor advised me that if I had have left it any type of longer it would've turned cancerous. That was a big wakeup ask for me, so now I constantly visit the doctor when I seem like something is off.

LOVING YOURSELF IS HARD

Your 20s are everything about "hading yourself". Well, that's what they tell you. It's so difficult to believe in yourself when you are still figuring out that you are. I have had plenty of days filled with anxiety - but you have to learn how to be kinder to on your own and also discover how to approve yourself for that you are.

WE'RE ALL BIASED

Your 20s is when you begin to develop your beliefs as well as begin to doubt others. If Facebook is anything to go off, after that it visits reveal that we're all very damn persistent with our beliefs and opinions of points. This does not indicate that various other people's point of views are incorrect. It's so energizing to hear exactly what other people need to state. So, one point I have found out is allowing go of the should be right. You could still have your point of sight without putting down various other individuals's perspective - agree to differ as well as be done!

A PLAN CAN BE ADJUSTED

I have mentioned the value of goal setting a host of times right here on Drug. I have also talked 5 year plans a bit as well. I assume they're terrific as a loose overview, yet understand that you could change plans to operate in with your growth and also life changes. Don't be so set on one path - allow on your own to grow and also go with the circulation too.

WEAR YOUR RETAINER

Because spending your very own money on your teeth sort of draws as well as putting on Invisalign as an adult kinda sucks too.

LEARNING IS KEY

I was in leading courses in high school, yet I was tired, so I really did not always apply myself in my researches, with the exemption of English or Art. Currently that I am in my 20s I have actually uncovered my love of discovering. This is because now I get to discover points I have actually spent in as well as intend to discover. Never ever stop discovering and utilize this understanding to create an ability set. Abilities never go away.

SURROUND YOURSELF WITH PEOPLE

Friendship is so essential. You rapidly realise after institution what you are seeking in friendship. Make certain you hang on limited to people that are straightforward, dedicated as well as caring. They're keepers.

You truly have to make certain you place in effort to friendships - I know this gets hard with hectic routines and basic life, yet nothing beats talking to friends - your brain needs it!

Another point I have actually learned is that you won't have as numerous good friends as you do in your teens - this is perfect though due to the fact that you understand they're long-lasting deals!

PEOPLE AREN'T PERFECT

It's easy to assume in the beginning glance that an individual lives a seemingly perfect life. The fact is everybody have their very own points taking place. Just because somebody travels a lot or has a business, doesn't suggest they do not have their very own challenges.

I might look like I have a best life based upon my IG account (I love my life), but I still have plenty of obstacles as well as ups and downs - I simply choose not to publish that kind of things on IG because it's a satisfied, innovative location for me.

SAYING SORRY MAKES PEOPLE FEELING GOOD and SOLVES THINGS QUICKLY

I am a relatively stubborn individual, so this one has taken a while for me to best. Adhering to your weapons and attempting to be right regularly hurts not just yourself however those around you. It's a lot easier to confess your incorrect behaviors and be sorry than to keep something so you "win". At the end of the day, exactly what are you in fact winning? A larger ego?

EXERCISE IS SO IMPORTANT

This goes hand in hand with wellness being so essential, however I assumed it deserved it's own subheading. I have actually discovered so much concerning fitness and health over the past six years as well as I will certainly currently always exercise. For me now, it is everything about being solid and also living a balanced life.

I am anticipating reading this in my 30s as well as composing a listing similar to this one - I don't anticipate to have points found out then, because I really think that part of a meeting life is to stay interested, remain open to points and also maintain on finding out new things.

PS: Well provided for surviving this essay - HA!

[doublerumnukacola]

Part 2

The Old State House was quiet, as usual. Only the occasional chat between Neighborhood watchmen was heard. It was one of the few things Goodneighbor and Diamond city had in common; their guards spent more time trading gossip than doing their jobs, left a lot of slack for Fahrenheit to pick up.

The air in Hancock’s office was musty and damp, the few sunbeams that filtered through the thick moth-eaten curtains were cluttered with dust motes and drifting smoke. Fahrenheit sat at the desk, holding her cigarette in one hand, and writing notes with the other. Hancock woke up on his couch, listening to the scratching of pen on paper, the long sighs of smoke, and the occasional murmur of something chess related.

    He stretched out his sore limbs, hearing the familiar pops and creaks of his joints. He sat up slowly, propping his feet on the ground. His head was already starting to ache, he needed a hit of something. Jet was the obvious solution.

He rummaged around in the couch cushions, there was always a spare canister wedged in there. He struck gold as his finger wrapped around a dusty jet canister. He gave it an experimental puff to clear out anything stuck in the mouthpiece, last thing he needed was to choke on a piece of lint while inhaling brahmin dung fumes. He took a long hit, the chems burning into his lungs, spreading a shock of energy throughout his body.

“Why don't you just drink coffee like the rest of us?” Fahrenheit asked in her usual monotone.

“You kidding? You know how bad caffeine is for you?” He joked, “My Uncle drank coffee everyday since he was ten, dropped dead of a heart attack at twenty.”

“And coffee was what killed him?” She asked, a skeptical smile on her face.

“No, he was sleeping with some married dame in the stands, had a heart attack when her husband came home early. But the coffee didn't help.” She exhaled sharply, which was as close to rip-roaring laughter as he was going to get. She looked down at her notes for a moment.

“A few things happened while you were out, but nothing too noteworthy.” Fahrenheit mused. Hancock leant back and groaned. He hated these long reports he took another hit of jet, which wasn’t smart, it’d only make the lecture seem longer. “A caravan came in for Daisy, a few packages came for Doctor Amari, and piles of super mutant corpses are dotted around Goodneighbor.” Hancock coughed mid-hit as she finished her notes.

“What?!” He spluttered through coughing fits. She looked down at her papers again.

“The Vault dweller, aka the general of the minute men, aka the Silver Shroud, killed no less than eighty-two Super Mutants,  judging by the amount of semi-intact corpses.” Hancock rubbed his skull, he could feel the headache starting to come back.

“Any reason why?” He asked, it felt as though there was something he was forgetting but it wasn't quite coming back to him….

“Because you asked.” A voice answered behind him.

“Pawn takes king…” Fahrenheit muttered to herself in amusement. Hancock stood up slowly, doing his best to grin at Sole who was standing in the doorway, looking particularly chipper.

“Right on cue, Sister.” He greeted, but the gaps in his memory were still bugging him. “But catch me up on when exactly I set you up on this little job.” Sole frowned.

“The other night, at the Third Rail when you… Never mind.” She started, but thought better of finishing the story. “Consider it my way of being a good Neighbor.” She winked, before turning to leave.

“Hey, where’re you going, killer?” Hancock called after her.

“Got business with Kleo. Bullets don’t buy themselves.” She called back. He had to smile at that. He heard the State House door shut behind her and turned to face Fahrenheit.

“How long was I out?” He asked seriously.

“Since I found you passed out on this sofa, it's been about a day and a half. Not the longest you've ever been out, but it's up there.” She replied, glancing at her notes again. “Last reports show you leaving the Third Rail, the Vault dweller hanging on you, heading towards the Rexford Hotel, entering the hotel, and you leaving a while after that, alone.” Hancock fought through the fog, trying to remember. He vaguely remembered speaking to Charlie….

“Take a mentat, usually jogs your memory.” Fahrenheit advised. It irked him, but she was right. He popped open the tin, only a few left. He dumped the contents into his mouth, crunching the mints into a peppermint paste. He could feel the fog instantly clear. It came back to him in a flash.

“Oh shit I did ask her to do that.” He grumbled, “Why did I think that was a good idea?” She checked her notes again.

“We discussed the growing Super Mutant problem three days ago.” Fahrenheit explained. “I suggested a perimeter of plasma mines to deter them, but you made the point that it would also deter caravans and drifters coming in. Your solution was to send someone to take out the closer nests, without getting attention from the larger ones. In addition, we both noted that some were necessary to keep the raider population distracted.”

“I don't remember that last part…” Hancock cut in. Fahrenheit looked up from her papers.

“As we were discussing this, I noted that you’d had two tins of mentats. You were ‘delightfully rational’. That’s a quote.” Hancock shuddered. Two tins was a lot, even for him. He'd have to take it easy.

“Fine, and I guess we decided to send in our personal atom-bomb as a solution?” He hazarded a guess. She shook her head.

“You just said you would take care of it. Next thing I hear is that everything within a miles radius of Goodneighbor has been shot, blown to pieces, or in one instance permanently spasming in in a pile of garbage.” Hancock gave her a confused look. She looked down at her notes.

“Yeah, says right here: ‘permanently spasming in a pile of garbage’. She shrugged her shoulders. Hancock adjusted his hat, pulling it further up his brow.

“Well, gives the Raiders something to… She killed them too. Didn't she?” Hancock asked tiredly. She nodded.

“There's good news, though.” She added. “The lack of threats was what brought in the ‘packages’ to Doctor Amari. Got a lot of positive attention from our friends on the freedom trail. The bald one in sunglasses has been snooping around more than usual. I suppose he likes to think that drifter outfit is fooling someone.” She smirked.

Hancock groaned, that guy really got under what was left of his skin. Something about all the cloak and dagger routine really clashed with his way of doing shit. He needed another tin of mentats, he could already feel the haze returning. He reached into the cushions again hoping he’d be lucky a second time.

Fahrenheit frowned, it seemed too soon for his high to be wavering. He successfully fished out a bent tin of Mentats, popping it open and topping up his high. She knew if she attacked directly he’d shut her out.

“Hancock...” She started, but he knew that voice. He shot her a look. She cleared her throat, trying to adjust her tone. “Have you ever considered a fresh start?”

“Pardon?” Hancock asked in surprise, expecting one of her lengthy lectures.

“A clean slate. Starting over.” Fahrenheit reiterated. “Have you given it some thought?” Hancock crossed his arms, studying her expression. Nothing was straight forward with Fahrenheit, and there was a point to this. But he took the bait anyway.

“Sure, the idea’s appealing. Get out on the open road again, bring the fight to someone else for a change, rather than wait for it to bang on my front door.” He answered with a shrug. “But a town needs its Mayor, otherwise the shit show falls in on itself.” Fahrenheit gave a soft snort.

“I’ve grown up here, Hancock.” She countered. “Until Vic came in and took over, the place did fine running itself. A figurehead Mayor would run it just as well as a real one.” Hancock looked away.

Nobody understood Goodneighbor like Fahrenheit. She’d never travelled far from it, knew every inch of it, every soul that passed through its gates. He’d watched her grow up on his visits from Diamond City, back when he still had a nose. So if she said it could live without him, he believed her.

“What brought this on?” He asked. “Getting a bit too cosy behind that desk?”

“You’ve been distracted from the second you met the Vault dweller.” Fahrenheit replied.

“Pfft, ‘the second’ I saw her?” He questioned skeptically. “How do you figure?” She flipped back through a stack of notes and pulled out a sheet of paper.

“You stabbed Finn.”

“He had it coming.”

“Then you introduced her to Goodneighbor.”

“Obviously, introductions always come off friendlier after cold-blooded murder.”

“After she walked away, you stepped into a lamp post.”

“Bullshit.”

    “Says right here in my notes, ‘stepped into a lamp post’ followed by ‘Threats to all witnesses.”

    “Tell me Sunglasses wasn’t there…”

    “I could tell you that, but I would be lying.”

    Hancock sighed. It was true, if it weren’t for Fahrenheit and Sole, he’d be out on his ass right now, probably with a few more bullet holes than he was comfortable with.

    “Say I went along with this.” He started. “Where would I go?”

    “Where ever the Vault-dweller takes you, i’d imagine.” She guessed, rearranging her notes. “I imagine now that she’s back to business as usual, she won’t be staying much longer.” Hancock thought for a moment.

    “You seem to have this all planned out…” He observed.

    “It’s my job.” She replied, grinding out her cigarette. She looked away for a moment. “There is one condition, though.” He knew it was coming and it still pissed him off.

    “Cut the bullshit and tell me.” He snapped, rubbing his forehead in annoyance. He popped a few more mentats, it cleared up the pain a little.

    “See Amari about what we discussed…” She started hesitantly. “About the fixer-”

    “Really, all that for another lecture on chems?” He asked, anger starting to boil off of him.

    “You need it this time.” She insisted. “You can’t go five minutes without taking something. How do you plan on surviving in the wastes if you keep looking for a fix?” He was silent. He had a problem. The words were on her lips, but she knew better than to say it. The cliché was too much.

“You don’t have to go clean completely. You just need to get to a point where you can use chems again, rather than them using you.” He groaned, she was right. How was she this good without a pick-me-up?

    “You got me.” He conceded. “But you sure you guys will be fine without me? I don’t want to come back to a smoking crater.”

“Unlikely,” She mused. “The Vault dweller hauled in enough guns and armour this morning to weaponize every drifter and Watchmen for a year. Kleo is still leaking lubricant over the hoard.” Something clicked. Sole and Kleo…? He fought through the haze.

“Hold it…” Hancock cut in. “If she's already shown Kleo a good time today, why did she say she was going there just now?” Fahrenheit shrugged.

“I suppose she lied.” Fahrenheit hazarded a guess. Hancock’s head was working overtime. Why would she lie…? Shit, Daisy….

“Where did that caravan blow in from?” Hancock asked frantically. Fahrenheit looked down at her notes, then frowned.

“Some place called…” She squinted at the writing. “The Republic of… Dave? It's somewhere in the-”

“Capital Wasteland.” Hancock finished for her, already flying down the stairs.

-----------------------------------------------------

“-Sorry, sugar, I haven't seen head or tails of him since he left weeks back.” Daisy apologised.

“Are you sure he hasn't… hasn't even sent a letter?” Sole pressed, her voice lowered to just a hoarse whisper. Daisy shook her head, a sad look in her eyes… Sad and guilty.

Hancock watched from the doorway, caught between wanting to give Sole space, and wanting to investigate what Daisy was hiding for himself. He compromised, knocking on the doorway to announce his presence. The two women looked up, Sole pausing to clear her throat and wipe the corners of her eyes. Funny, this was the same woman who left at least eighty-two Super Mutants dismembered at his doorstep.

“Hate to Interrupt, but word on the street is there there’s going to be a pretty groovy shindig at the Third Rail tonight, thought I’d extend an invitation to a few lovely ladies.” Hancock grinned, strolling into Daisy’s store.

“What are you doing here then? Kleo’s next door.” Sole joked, clearing her throat to mend the cracks in her voice.

“Kleo’s no good at parties that don’t involve target practice.” Hancock started to explain.

“So what’s the occasion?” Sole asked, a little curious. “Isn't everyday with you a party?”

“Flattering, but this one’s special. It's a farewell party.” He explained. Sole opened her mouth to ask more, but Hancock gave a wave of his hand. “Working out party details with Fahrenheit, but I’ll be back to see you later, Daisy. To sort out some, ‘party supplies’.” He finished, eyeing Daisy, who refused to meet his gaze. With that he turned and strode off, head already starting to fog up. He was going to need to be at the top of his game tonight.

-------------------------------------------

Sole left Daisy’s store with a sad wave. It had been a difficult few weeks, hell it had been difficult since she left the damn vault… But her mind quickly brushed away the thought, protecting her from dwelling on it.

She was getting tired of the sights and sounds of Goodneighbor. The excursion this morning had been refreshing, she’d almost felt like her old self. There was something cathartic about sniping a Super Mutant suicider and watching it take out five of its closest friends. Perhaps another stroll through the ruins was needed. Maybe she’d stop by the old North Church, there was usually an errand or two to do there.

The ruins were unnaturally quiet. She'd seen to that earlier. She may have been a little overzealous. She missed the familiar sound of gunfire in the distance and the occasionally exploding car or vertibird.

She continued towards the Boston Common. She needed to find a quiet spot to collect her thoughts and count her caps before she went to the church. There were a lot of both.

Just then she heard the shift of gravel behind her. She continued, feigning ignorance, but glancing around using her peripheral vision. It was lucky she’d planned this detour beforehand, Boston Common was ideal for unwanted company.

She continued on, towards Swans pond. She could hear the hesitation in the interlopers footsteps. The white roof of the ancient bandstand was well in view, as well as the infamous sunken swans.

Sole could have launched a fat man into this lake any time she wanted, she’d considered it once or twice as well, but she didn't for this reason in particular. She stood at the fence around the murky pond. She bent down, looking for a suitable stone. Sole smiled to herself, and activated her stealth boy...

Hiding out in the Boylston club, she could still hear the behemoths roars, and the crash of lobbed debris. Who ever had been tailing her would be a million miles away by now if they had any sense. Not many had the reckless sense of adventure that would lead to exploring the area, much less find this place.

She sat on one of the dusty armchairs, amongst the former club members. It was a macabre scene, skeletons in decaying suits, some with cigars still clenched in their jaw. The ruckus outside notwithstanding, it was quite a peaceful scene. There were a few wine bottles dotted around, some still filled, but she knew better than to indulge. After all, she’d snooped around on the terminal behind the counter, and it wasn’t the bomb that finished these gentleman off.

After a while the roars subsided, the behemoth settling back into the pond, returning to their slumber. She'd have to be extra quiet about leaving, couldn't risk waking them again.

She was starting to drift off in the chair, when the front door creaked open, and shut quietly. Her heart rate shot up instantly. Who would come here? Who would be so stupidly diligent in their surveillance? It didn’t match the M.O. of the institute, and certainly not of any raider group she’d pissed off…

“Honey, I'm hooome!” A familiar voice sang out quietly, poking their head around the corner and into the lounge, sunglasses catching the shafts of light.

“Oh dear, you look so haggard. I’ll bet traffic home was just murder.” Sole joked, her heart rate returning. She should have known it was him.

“Oh you wouldn't believe it! Hey is this seat taken?” Deacon smiled, plopping himself on the couch, careful not to disturb the skeleton beside him. “Some jerk nearly cut me off, literally. A whole car just came at me.” Sole laughed as Deacon mimed the car flying over his head, ducking down for effect.

“Really? Because I had a creep tail me home, had to ask him politely, but firmly, to buzz off.” She countered. He leaned back, running a hand through over his scalp.

“Alright that’s fair.” He admitted with a grin. “It’s just been difficult to get ahold of you lately.”

“Are you kidding? I’ve been in the same place for nearly a month. Not too hard to track someone in Goodneighbor.” Sole snorted.

“Really?” Deacon asked, forcing the surprise in his voice. “All I’ve seen around Goodneighbor is some mopey Vault dweller in your clothes. This morning was the first time I’ve seen you in weeks.” There was silence. He had a point, but he could have made it without being a dick. He took a breath. “Soooo wanna talk about it?” He sat forward, resting his chin in one hand like an attentive therapist. Finally she sighed. Time to fill him in on her latest episode.

“It was a few weeks ago, or so people tell me. Feels more like months. We’d just gotten a cure for Duncan, his kid. I knew he’d go back and see his son, but I’d hoped we could do it together… And that we’d do it after we found Shaun...” She paused. “When he left, I kept expecting a letter… A message in a bottle… Even a  fucking smoke signal would be nice…” She gave a small bitter smile. “I forgot how nice it was to swear, at least sober anyway.”

“I’d heard about that,” Deacon noted. “Always struck me as strange that a guy willing to run with ruthless mercenaries would avoid swearing.” Sole shot him a look, he held up his hands in surrender and made a motion of zipping his lips.

“Anyways…. Nothing came. After a week I stopped checking up on Daisy. After two I started to drink. Not sure how much time I spent after that, just crying and drinking, don’t remember too much of it.”

Deacon wanted to say something, but he remembered zipping his lips. Instead he pointed at Sole, then wrung his fist on the corner of his eye with one hand as if sobbing, and with the other hand mimed chugging a bottle, then a sudden thumbs down and a disapproving look. It was as impressive as it was irritating. Sole ignored him all the same and continued.

“Hancock picked me up, gave me a job, I sobered up, and I'm not looking back.” She concluded.

“Except this afternoon when you came crying to Daisy again.” Deacon added, receiving another sharp look from Sole, but she prefered it over mime.

“A moment of weakness.” She admitted. “But hope’s not an easy thing to let go of.” She looked forlorn at the dirty window beside them that once overlooked the common. Deacon stood up slowly, hesitating over his next words, but he decided to come out with it anyway.

“The prick used you to save his son.” Deacon said bluntly. His jovial demeanor falling for a moment as he looked down at Sole. “I mean, he gets a gold star for motive, a dying kid is pretty good justification, but he still played you.”

“No…” She denied softly, pulling herself off the armchair. She hated people looking down on her, and he knew it.

“Going out to kill Winlock and Barnes was a test to see how far you’d go for him. Killing a few ferals and grabbing a cure were nothing compared to taking on a fleet of gunners.” Deacon continued, a bitter edge to his voice now. She clenched her fist, she tried to focus on her breathing rather than his bullshit. “But don't worry, the sick kid part was true. I checked up on that through quite a few channels. Couldn't believe he wasn't just selling it-” Deacon was cut off by Sole’s fist striking him across the face, breathless and shaking with anger.

“You’re wrong…” She countered sharply, eyes welling up. “Sure, he left. And I don't expect him to come back, or understand why, but he loved me. And I… I loved him…” She glared down at Deacon, who was rubbing the red mark on his face. He felt lucky she hadn't just shot him.

“...That was real. Not a manipulation… Not a lie…” She spat at the floor beside him. “ But I know that's something of an alien concept to you.”

“An alien concept, huh?” He said thoughtfully, rubbing out the last of the soreness, even in her rage he could feel that she held back. “Maybe. But a liar knows a liar.” He started towards the front door. “And you can't lie to me, Sole.” He continued softly. “You didn't really love him. No matter what you tell yourself.” He dodged another swing, letting her knuckles connect with the doorway, she winced in pain, clutching her damaged fist.

“You can be a real bastard sometimes…” She hissed. “What makes you such an authority on the subject of my love life? Last I checked you wanted nothing to do with it.” A smirk flashed across his face, sunglasses glinting.

“We both know that was just a crush for you. Fresh out of the Vault, you’re bound to fall for the first handsome man that doesn't try to disembowel you.” He said knowingly.

“What about Preston?” Sole countered, trying to suppress a smile.

“OK you were bound to fall for the second handsome-” He tried again.

“Sturges.” She added, allowing a small smile now.

“He is a very pretty man…” Deacon agreed.

“Arturo Rodriguez.”

“The gunshop guy in Diamond city? I mean admittedly I think he’s been on everyone's Christmas list for awhile…”

“Nick Valentine.”

“Not being sythnist but…”

“Danse.”

“Not being asshole-ist but…”

“Tinker Tom.”

“Ooh I’ll have to tell him you said that.”

“Don't bother, he’s too in love with MILA.” Deacon waved his hands in surrender.

“OK I get it, you resisted many a handsome man before you fell for me.” He admitted. “But it was still just a crush. Happens to the best of us. Working long hours in high pressure situations is bound to cause a few sparks to fly.”

“Tell that to a heartbroken Agent Charmer, who ended up in Goodneighbor to nurse a broken heart.” She recalled, trying to force her smile. “Ended up taking any job that took her away from the Railroad, even taking on a merc to watch her back…”

“And look at Charmer now!” He said enthusiastically. “All grown up and moving on to bigger and better heartbreaks!” Sole smile became more genuine. “You’ll find someone, Sole, but in the meantime just refocus on the Railroad, refocus on Shaun. It takes a lot to keep our little family going, but we’re so close to bringing down the institute and finding him. We can't afford anymore delays.” Sole was quiet. “Clearing out around Goodneighbor was a big help, helped us send out a few packages that had been sitting around. Keep up like that and You’ll get Agent of the month in no time.” He leaned in and smirked. “It's been Carington 6 months in a row, so you got a lot of competition.”

[doublerumnukacola]

Prelude to a party

The Old State House was quiet, as usual. Only the occasional chat between Neighborhood watchmen was heard. It was one of the few things Goodneighbor and Diamond city had in common; their guards spent more time trading gossip than doing their jobs, left a lot of slack for Fahrenheit to pick up. 

The air in Hancock’s office was musty and damp, the few sunbeams filtering through thick moth-eaten curtains were thick with dust motes and smoke. Fahrenheit sat at the desk, holding her cigarette in one hand, and writing notes with the other. Hancock woke up on his couch, listening to the scratching of pen on paper, the long sighs of smoke, and the occasional murmur of something chess related.

    He stretched out his sore limbs, hearing the familiar pops and creaks of his joints. He sat up slowly, propping his feet on the ground. His head was already starting to ache, he needed a hit of something. Jet was the obvious solution.

He rummaged around in the couch cushions, there was always a spare canister wedged in there. He struck gold as his finger wrapped around a dusty jet canister. He gave it an experimental puff to clear out anything stuck in the mouthpiece, last thing he needed was to choke on a piece of lint while inhaling brahmin dung fumes. He took a long hit, the chems burning into his lungs, spreading a shock of energy throughout his body.

“Why don't you just drink coffee like the rest of us?” Fahrenheit asked in her usual monotone.

“You kidding? You know how bad caffeine is for you?” He joked, “My Uncle had a coffee everyday since he was ten, dropped dead of a heart attack at twenty.”

“And coffee was what killed him?” She asked, a skeptical smile on her face.

“No, he was sleeping with some married dame in the stands, had the heart attack when her husband came home early. But the coffee didn't help.” She smiled, which was as close to rip-roaring laughter as he was going to get. She looked down at her notes for a moment.

“A few things happened while you were out, but nothing too noteworthy.” Fahrenheit mused. Hancock leant back and groaned. He hated these long reports he took another hit of jet, which wasn’t smart, it would only make the lecture seem longer. “A caravan came in for Daisy, a few packages came for Doctor Amari, and piles of super mutant corpses are dotted around Goodneighbor.” Hancock coughed mid-hit as she finished her notes.

“What?!” He spluttered through coughing fits. She looked down at her papers again.

“The Vault dweller, also the general of the minute men, also the Silver Shroud, killed no less than eighty-two Super Mutants,  judging by the amount of semi-intact corpses.” Hancock rubbed his skull, he could feel the headache starting to come back.

“Any reason why?” He asked, it felt as though there was something he was forgetting but it wasn't quite coming back to him….

“Because you asked.” A voice answered behind him.

“Pawn takes king…” Fahrenheit muttered to herself in amusement. Hancock stood up slowly, grinning at Sole who was standing in the doorway, looking particularly chipper.

“Right on cue, Sister.” He greeted, but the gaps in his memory were still bugging him. “But catch me up on when exactly I set you up on this little job.” Sole frowned.

“The other night, at the Third Rail when I… Never mind. It's done anyway.” She started, but thought better of finishing the story. “Consider it my way of being a good Neighbor.” She winked, before turning to leave.

“Hey, where’re you going, killer?” Hancock called after her.

“Got business with Kleo. Bullets don’t buy themselves.” She called back. He had to smile at that. He heard the State House door shut behind her and turned to face Fahrenheit.

“How long was I out?” He asked seriously.

“Since I found you passed out on this sofa, it's been about a day and a half. Not the longest you've ever been out, but it's up there.” She replied, glancing at her notes again. “Last reports show you leaving the Third Rail, the Vault dweller hanging on you, heading towards the Rexford Hotel, entering the hotel, and you leaving a while after that alone.” Hancock fought through the fog, trying to remember. He vaguely remembered speaking to Charlie….

“Take a mentat, usually jogs your memory.” Fahrenheit advised. It irked him, but she was right. He popped open the tin, only a few left. He dumped the contents into his mouth, crunching the mints into a peppermint paste. He could feel the fog instantly clear. It came back to him in a flash.

“Oh shit I did ask her to do that.” He grumbled, “Why did I think that was a good idea?” She checked her notes again.

“We discussed the growing Super Mutant problem three days ago.” Fahrenheit explained. “I suggested a perimeter of plasma mines to deter them, but you made the point that it would also deter caravans and drifters coming in. Your solution was to send someone to take out the closer nests, without getting attention from the larger ones. In addition, we both noted that some were necessary to keep the raider population distracted.”

“I don't remember that last part…” Hancock cut in. Fahrenheit looked up from her papers.

“I noted that at this point you’d already had two tins of mentats. You were ‘delightfully rational’. That’s a quote.” Hancock shuddered. Two tins was a lot, even for him. He'd have to take it easy.

“Fine, and I guess we decided to send in our personal atom-bomb as a solution?” He hazarded a guess. She shook her head.

“You just said you’d take care of it. Next thing I hear is that everything within a miles radius of Goodneighbor has been shot, blown to pieces, or in one instance permanently spasming in in a pile of garbage.” Hancock gave her a confused look. She looked down at her notes.

“Yeah, says right here: ‘permanently spasming in a pile of garbage’. She shrugged her shoulders. Hancock adjusted his hat, pulling it further up his brow.

“Well, gives the Raiders something to… She killed them too. Didn't she?” Hancock asked tiredly. She nodded.

“There's good news, though.” She added. “The lack of threats was what brought in the ‘packages’ to Doctor Amari. Got a lot of positive attention from our friends on the freedom trail. The bald one in sunglasses has been snooping around more than usual. I suppose he likes to think that drifter outfit is fooling someone.” She smirked. “On top of that, the Vault dweller hauled enough guns and armour to weaponize every drifter and Watchmen for a year. Kleo is still leaking lubricant over the hoard she’s brought in.”

“Hold it…” Hancock cut in. “If she's already shown Kleo a good time, why did she say she was going there just now?” Fahrenheit shrugged.

“I suppose she lied.” Fahrenheit hazarded a guess. Hancock’s head was working overtime. Why would she lie…? Shit, Daisy….

“Where did that caravan blow in from?” Hancock asked frantically. Fahrenheit looked down at her notes, then frowned.

“Some place called…” She squinted at the writing. “The Republic of… Dave? It's somewhere in the-”

“Capital Wasteland.” Hancock finished for her, already flying down the stairs.

“-Sorry, sugar, I haven't seen head or tails of him since he left weeks back.” Daisy apologised.

“Are you sure he hasn't… hasn't even sent a letter?” Sole pressed, her voice lowered to just a hoarse whisper. Daisy shook her head, a sad look in her eyes… A sad guilty look.

Hancock watched from the doorway, caught between wanting to give Sole space, and wanting to investigate what Daisy was hiding himself. He compromised, knocking on the doorway to announce his presence. The two women looked up, Sole pausing to clear her throat and wipe the corners of her eyes. Funny, this was the same woman who left at least eighty-two Super Mutants dismembered at his doorstep.

“Hate to Interrupt, but word on the street is there there’s going to be a pretty groovy shindig at the Third Rail tonight, thought I’d extend an invitation to a few lovely ladies.” Hancock grinned, strolling into Daisy’s store.

“Why?” Sole asked, coughing again to mend the cracks in her voice.

“Oh well, I find if I don't go out of my way to invite the fairer sex, the parties tend to be very sausage heavy…” Hancock started to explain.

“No, I mean what’s the occasion?” Sole asked impatiently. “Isn't everyday with you a party?”

“Flattering, but there’s a good reason for it. It's a farewell party.” He explained. Sole opened her mouth to ask more, but Hancock gave a wave of his hand. “Working out party details with Fahrenheit, but I’ll be back to see you later, Daisy. To sort out some, ‘party supplies’.” He finished, eyeing Daisy, who refused to meet his gaze. With that he turned and strode off, head already starting to fog up. He was going to need to be at the top of his game tonight. He was so distracted, he didn't even notice the drifter eavesdropping outside.

So I feel like I dropped the ball on this one a little, but that’s only because it’s a sort of connecting scene to a couple of other things. I’d like to do some other stuff relating to it soon. 

For the start of this train wreck, click here!

For a flashback that sort of also has to do with things, click here

For any other enquiries, please hold for an operator.