#heard people talk about how hard the cazador fight was

[sharkflan]

kept getting obliterated in the damn house of grief fight

[daughter-of-melpomene]

I got some questions for your Tav’s based on the ask game! These ones are for your Tav Amalal! The questions are 3, 16, 18, 22, 23, 28, 30, 41, 47, 52, 57, 68, 69 and the bonus 70, my bonus questions is what are some headcanons for Astarion and Amala once they finally start a relationship together?

Ahhhhh, thank you so much for asking about my cleric baby!! Answers are under the cut! (And I’m also gonna tag the BG3 moots @astarionbae and @reyofluke-ocs. <3)

What is your character’s moral alignment?

He starts out the adventure as Neutral Good, absolutely dedicated to helping everyone they can and understanding the need for authority but not truly respecting any except for his goddess, and ends it having shifted into Chaotic Good - by the time everything is over, they’ve realized he will pretty much to anything to protect the innocent, even if it means breaking the law and killing those who would harm others.

Which of the companions does your Tav trust most?

Already answered this here!!

Who is your Tav’s biggest rival?

Any followers of Lolth, really, both because of how they were raised as a Seldarine-sworn drow and due to his being a cleric of Eilistrae, Lolth’s daughter. They will do almost anything to dim Lolth’s influence on the world, and keep any more drow from falling under her evil influence.

How does your Tav act around their crush?

Amalal doesn’t really have any experience with romantic attraction before he meets Astarion, so a lot of the phase of them having a crush on him is trying as hard as he can to repress these feelings, both because they’re less important than the mission the party is on and because they don’t think that someone as beautiful and smooth as Astarion could ever truly return his feelings. Most of the time during which they have a crush on Astarion involves him hardcore blushing whenever the vampire is around, simultaneously craving his touch and shying away whenever they actually get it, and stuttering hard whenever Astarion flirts with him.

What is your Tav’s favorite moment they’ve had with their lover?

I think Amalal’s favorite would be the conversation they have with Astarion after Cazador is defeated and Amalal has stopped Astarion from ascending. That moment was the kindest he’s ever heard Astarion talk about himself up to that point, and the fact that it contained a big speech in which Astarion confessed his true love and admiration for the cleric made it a whole hell of a lot better.

What is your Tav’s guilty pleasure?

Amalal has always insisted on keeping their body clean and unpolluted, the most perfect vessel for his goddess they can make it… mostly. However, he definitely enjoys a good glass of wine every now and again, and even a pint of ale if it’s being offered to them.

How does your Tav react when someone insults their friend/partner?

The thing about Amalal is that, generally, he’s completely okay with allowing the people they care about to defend themselves if he knows they’re capable of it; they don’t always want to be stepping in and playing the hero if he doesn’t need to. However, they also know that if an insult actually gets to Astarion, which they don’t always, his lover will just make a little quip or joke to try to hide his feelings and not actually make it clear that he’s been hurt, and Amalal will not stand for that. So whenever someone insults Astarion, Amalal will not hesitate to give the person who gave the insult a vigorous tongue-lashing, filled with extremely clever and hurtful insults disguised in their usual polite speech.

What animal best represents your Tav?

I think I would say a lion, or at least what a lot of people associate with lions: noble, proud, and a natural leader, but also not afraid to fight to the death if he or anyone in their circle is threatened.

What is the most important item your Tav has?

A long, polished wooden staff, gifted to him by an old woman from one of the first towns they ever helped out as a walking stick. It’s a symbol, to him of their dedication to helping people in service of his goddess, and so they keep it on him and all times and would absolutely hate to lose it (as well as using it as a weapon when the occasion calls for it).

What is your Tav’s worst fear?

Before the whole adventure, they would have said that his worst fear was all the rest of the Seldarine drows converting to Lolth’s cult and embracing her evil. But after the party’s whole journey, their absolute worst fear is now losing the little family he’s made, and especially Astarion.

What are your Tav’s biggest insecurities?

Due to being on the road and alone for a lot of the time for so long, Amalal was deprived of a lot of social interaction and can often be pretty awkward and naïve as a result, which they’re often pretty insecure about. Another insecurity is being so dedicated to his goddess and their faith, as much of the rest of the party either worships different deities or doesn’t believe in any at all and he often feels a bit awkward about being so openly devoted to Eilistrae, which in turn they then feel awful about.

How does your Tav get along with each party member?

Amalal mostly gets along with everyone; he’s the kind of person you can’t really help but get along with. There’s definitely some tension between them and Shadowheart and him and Lae’zel for a while, since they and Shadowheart serve very different goddesses and Lae’zel doesn’t think much of Amalal’s consistent dedication to always doing the right thing (even though his morals do get a bit less strict as the story goes on), but eventually even the two of them realize how kind and genuine and likeable Amalal actually is, and they manage to become friends. Amalal also gets along with Wyll especially, since they can bond over travelling around a lot to help people and they’re both very dedicated, upright people committed to helping others.

What are your Tav’s other hobbies?

Other than helping those in trouble and praying to their goddess every day, Amalal doesn’t really have a lot of hobbies before getting kidnapped and infected with the Mindflayer parasite. After the party’s adventure, however, he takes up drawing as a way to help their mind relax, even if they aren’t very good at it, and also asks Astarion to teach him how to sew.

Some headcanons for Amalal and Astarion’s relationship:

Amalal’s favorite place for Astarion to drink from on their body is from his wrist; there’s something so intimate about it to them that he doesn’t even feel when Astarion drinks from their neck.

Every single day when Amalal prays to his goddess, they make sure to thank Eilistrae for bringing Astarion into his life.

Astarion’s favorite way to cuddle Amalal is lying on their chest with his head tucked between his beloved’s neck and shoulder, soaking in his warmth. Amalal likes to gently tease that he turns into a cat whenever the two of them cuddle.

Even years after they’ve gotten together, Amalal will still ask Astarion’s permission before every kiss or loving touch they give him, unless it’s a sudden thing to push him out of danger and he doesn’t really have a choice - they never want him to feel like his choices are being taken away again.

bg3 tav questions!!

[radicalbillie]

Love at first bite

Pt 6.

Astarion had truly been enjoying allowing his skin to soak up the suns rays. 200 years without, he had forgotten that light wasn't always harsh and punishing; it could be a soothing touch as well.

His feet stopped, facing the entrance to his tent. Eyes scanned nervously behind, straining his neck. The Gith had risen by this time her and the bloody Blade of Frontiers were having a chat. Trading fighting techniques with the halberd.

The vampire began biting his nails, the anxiety was flaring back up. The Ranger wasn't back yet, and the morning light was growing sharper as the sun continued to rise.

"Okay get a grip now." He talked himself down.

There was a waterfall behind his abode, near a small ruin, his long quick legs brought him quickly to it.

"I can ignore orders, walk in the sun..." he concocted the list under his breath.

Scared puppy eyes looked at the crashing waters before him. Could he be this lucky? He peeked over his shoulder nonchalantly as he could manage; seemed he didn't have an audience.

He raised a shaky hand, slowly to the rushing waterfall. It was only a small bit of his index finger that met the liquid but that was all it took. Like sticking his hand into a burning braizer.

He sucked in air through his teeth hard in pain as he whipped his hand back. He gripped his finger hard in his other hand.

"Fuck." He spat loudly.

Uncurling his hand he watched the seared flesh on the tip of his finger slowly regenerate itself, returning to its usual silky color.

"Oh sure, why would any of this make any bloody sense, or be remotely BUH-loody consistent!" He snarled.

Turning back to the camp, bleary red eyes looked to see a large orange cat, with a large flopping fish clenched in its teeth strutting up from the riverbank. A barefoot Wood elf not too far behind.

The mage stood up to greet her, he seemed to instantly notice the bruised blotch on her neck as they exchanged hellos. Astarion felt a familiar roll of his stomach, the sort he always felt back then when Cazador summoned him for 'dinner'. And just like he always did then, he forced himself to smile; to be suave and pleasant.

When he drew closer to them, he was surprised to see Ashe had a friendly smile to greet him with.

"Hello Astarion."

"Good morning, how do you feel?" He probed carefully.

"Fine, just a bit woozy." She shifted her weight placing a hand over the bite for a moment.

"It'll pass." He said, eyes focused on the large black an purple bruise.

It handn't looked that bad last night had it? Or had he just not noticed...

"So it's true?" Gale interjected. "We're traveling with a vampire? Of course we are." He rolled his eyes.

"That explains the pallet" Shadowheart spoke from the boulder she had been leaning on, listening in.

They were all glaring at him, all but the Ranger. Still, he had maintained a pleasant composure through worse.

"Just be happy I'm not a 'true vampire'. A bite from one of them and you might wake up a vampire spawn; like my good self. All vampires share in their hunger, but few have their powers."

"That why you can walk in daylight? Because you're only a spawn?" Ashe inquired.

"Oh no... I should be cinders in this light. Before now I hadn't seen the sun in 200 years. Someone..." He paused giving it some thought. "Or something wants me alive- they've changed the rules. Some of them at least."

Ashe gave him an inquisitive look.

"Running water still burns like acid. And I don't know if i need an invitation to enter a house. As for my other quirks, well we can figure those out in time." He smirked.

"Hunting with vampires, never thought I'd see the day..." Wyl's tone was almost jovial.

"I'm glad you're all being sensible about these revelations." Astarion kept laying it on thick. "I was worried people would show up with torches and pitchforks. "

Before he could speak further a loud snarl came up, suddenly the cat was standing between Ashe and himself, and if looks could kill.

"Although there's still time." He spoke nervously, hoping to diffuse the tension.

But then his blood donor said the most surprising thing he was sure he'd ever heard;

"Hmm, no- I trust him. He won't be anymore trouble."

Was she speaking to everyone or just the tiger? Either way he lept on the apparent acceptance.

"Oh no, quite the opposite I'm here in the spirit of openness and honesty."

"I just better not wake in the night to find fangs at my throat." Shadowheart scoffed before walking off.

"Seconded..." Lae-zel added. "I will not be as forgiving."

Gale crossed his arms, clearly skeptical. "You say all the right words but I'm not so sure you mean the right things. Still, I will respect the decision that was made."

Ashe patted Nyla on the back, encouraging her to trot away. Astarion got another look at the bruise, her wet hair clumping on it, he thought to ask if she needed a potion, he was more than capable of making one up. However before he could ask she spoke;

"Just let me know if you need anything else, we're in this mess together after all."

"Oh, you're such a sweetheart." He mused.

Was... was he flustered?

With a slight smile tugging her lips, she turned away going back to her bedroll. Gale and Wyl both stayed, looking him up and down suspiciously.

"Yeah, I'm keepin' an eye on you- and no wise cracks about havin' us for supper." Wyl pointed at him, his tone far more serious with Ashe's back turned.

"Speaking of that." Gale added. "I taste absolutely awful Astarion! Keep your distance."

Astarion smirked devilishly; "oh, I believe it darling."

[lone-survivor-six-tales]

Ain’t That A Shot in The Head Ch.3

"This is Mr. New Vegas wishing you all lady-like luck tonight" Mr. New Vegas' voice crooned over Six's pip-boy radio as she tended to the small fire at their makeshift camp. They had set up camp on the top of a small ledge to give them the perfect view of anything attempting to approach their camp.

"I swear, I think I've heard someone like him before," She mumbled to herself as she looked out at the sky slowly changing colors as the last of the sun's rays disappeared beyond the horizon. A quick zip of movement on the ground below caught her eye and she grabbed her binoculars to get a better look.

"What the hell are those?" She asked out loud to no one as she spotted a large bug creature flitting around back and forth. It was too large and fast to be a bloatfly and she couldn't recall seeing anything like it in her limited memories.

"It's probably a cazador, spotted a hive not too far away."

Six jumped and turned with her pistol out to face Boone who had just returned to camp with a dead gecko slung over his shoulder. Six relaxed and took the gecko from him to begin preparing it for cooking while Boone sat across from her to take over tending to the fire.

"What's a cazador?" Six asked, skewering some meat and holding it over the fire. While she couldn't see his eyes, she could see Boone raise an eyebrow at her question.

"They're a quick and dangerous insect. Getting stung by one of the adults is an almost guaranteed death sentence. There was a guy in first recon called Sting that survived getting stung by one of the younger cazadores and he had a permanent scar from the stinger."

Six could hear it in his voice that he was confused how she didn't know about them. Passing him the cooked gecko meat, she began adding more to another skewer before answering his silent question.

"I don't remember where I came from but wherever it was, there weren't any cazadores there." She gently touched the scar on her head as she tried to recall anything about her life before getting shot in the head. "I've tried remembering but all I know is there were a lot of buildings and rubble." She gave a tug on the collar of the vault suit Doc Mitchell gave her with a frown. "Wearing this feels familiar too, like I've worn it before."

Boone frowned, tossing his empty skewer stick into the fire as he rested his arms on his knees. "Are you sure you really don't know? How do I know this isn't just an act for pity?"

Six's skewer slipped out of her hand and into the fire as she looked at Boone. "Why would I lie about something like that? We've been traveling for a week now and this is the first time I even mentioned it to you. If I wanted you to pity me, I would have told you about it sooner."

Boone shrugged as he looked away. "If you're really from a vault then how are you so skilled with a gun? I've heard many stories of vault dwellers leaving and dying in the wastes because no one taught them to fight in the vault."

"I don't know, maybe someone taught me." She replied, looking down and watching the meat burn in the fire.

"Maybe someone like Charon," she thought but kept to herself. She had told Boone she was looking for two people but she didn't mention one was a ghoul who she had a contract with. At this point she's not sure if he'd even believe her if she tried explaining it to her.

"How do I know you're not working with the Legion?"

Six's head snapped up and she couldn't stop her jaw from dropping in shock at his insinuation. "How could you think that?"

Boone looked at her with furrowed brows and a frown. "I've heard stories about the Legion using kids to attack NCR troops. I wouldn't put it past them to use a woman to trick a first recon soldier into letting their guard down."

Before Boone could react Six was on her feet and his cheek was stinging where she slapped him.

"How dare you say something like that Craig Boone. Did you think I'd try coming onto you or something after reading that bill of sale. I don't know what made you think I would do something like that but you should know not everyone has an ulterior motive."

Boone sat still as she grabbed her pack and her pistol. Behind her ED-E made a confused beep as she stormed past Boone and started making her way down the hill.

"You should go with her." Boone mumbled to the eyebot who floated silently for a moment before beeping and quickly flying to catch up with her. Boone listened to her footsteps slowly fade away and when he couldn't hear her footsteps anymore he sighed, taking his sunglasses off to rub his eyes as the fire slowly faded until all that was left were dying embers.

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

Six kicked a rock as she shone the light of the pip-boy in front of her. She was starting to regret storming off while it was still dark. She froze when she heard the sound of rocks falling a few feet ahead of her. Slowly she raised her pip-boy and cursed when the light ahead of her shone on the thick leathery back of a deathclaw that turned to face her.

Six had turned and began sprinting away as the deathclaw roared behind her. She could feel the earth tremble as it began chasing after her. She took out her pistol and fired a few shots behind her, hoping to hit the beast even just once.

Six let out a scream as the ground gave way under her feet and she fell into a deep hole she didn't see. She let out a pained shout when she hit the ground and pain shot up her left leg. Above her she could hear the deathclaw growl and huff as it paced around the hole. ED-E nudged her shoulder and gave a concerned beep as he hovered above her.

"ED-E, go find Boone, tell him there's a deathclaw and I need help," she told ED-E who beeped in confirmation before flying up quickly to avoid the deathclaw swiping at him. She listened to the deathclaw give another growl as it continued it's pacing. Using her pip-boy light she checked her leg to see her ankle was beginning to swell from a sprain. She dug through her bag looking for the roll of gauze she kept in her pack until she heard a pained roar from the deathclaw followed by the sound of a loud buzzing noise.

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

Boone was just starting to fall asleep when the alert beeping of ED-E jolted him awake and reached for a flashlight in his pack. By the time he had the flashlight on, ED-E was circling around him continuing his beeping.

"ED-E? Why are you back? Where's Six?" He asked. ED-E halted and played back the panicked recording of Six.

"ED-E go find Boone, tell him there's a deathclaw and I need help."

Boone cursed and jumped up, grabbing his rifle as ED-E started flying back the way he came. It was difficult to keep up with the eyebot but Boone kept running until instead of the roar of a deathclaw, Boone could hear nothing except for his own footsteps.

As they approached Boone could see in the light multiple cazadores scattered across the ground dead. Finally the large body of a dead deathclaw came into view. It's body was riddled with sting marks from the cazadores. Boone quickly readied his rifle in case more cazadores flew out from the darkness.

"Six! Can you hear me?" Boone called out as he looked around for a trace of her. He heard a faint cough and a voice almost too soft for him to hear.

"Boone."

Boone turned and pointed his light in the direction of the voice. He could see a hole in the light beam and carefully walked over and looked over the edge. What he saw made his blood run cold.

In the bottom of the pit was Six, skin a sickly pale with scratches covering her face and vault suit torn. On top of her laid a dead cazador with Six's knife embedded in it's head. The from his position Boone could see the cazador's stinger was still stuck in Six's leg.

"Six!" Boone quickly but carefully climbed down and shoved the dead insect off her. Six groaned in pain as the stinger was pulled out of her leg as Boone sat her up and dug through her bag for a vial of antivenom.

"Do you think you can hold onto me? We need to get you out of here and to a doctor." Boone said as he passed her the antivenom. Six drank the vial and climbed onto Boone's back. Her arms were draped over his shoulders as he climbed back up the pit. Her blood felt like it was boiling and it took everything she could not to cry out in pain. She could feel her eyes drooping and she was about to close them until she felt one of Boone's hands squeeze her thigh hard.

"I need you to stay awake Six. That antivenom won't work for long. Just stay awake until we get into Freeside." Boone explained as he started running. While he wanted to take her to camp McCarran he knew the Followers of The Apocalypse have a better chance of having cazador antivenom.

"I'll try but I feel so tired. It hurts so much." Six said, voice begining to slur.

"Just keep talking Six." Boone encouraged her as he reached a nearby road and ran down it. He was thinking of the quickest way to get to the north gate without running through fiend territory

"I don't know what to say. You won't believe what I say anyway." She said, groaning in pain when Boone had to jump over rubble and it jostled her sprain.

"I'm sorry for what I said. Loosing Carla made me cautious about trusting anyone. Tell me about what you remember." Boone replied before cursing when he saw a group of fiends ahead of them. He quickly took a sharp turn around a building as the fiends opened fire on them. With the plan to avoid the fiends failed, Boone changed directions and charged straight through the fiend territory. He could hear fiends shouting as he ran past them and bullets whizzing by him as he ran between buildings.

"Boone, just leave me. You're going to get shot at this rate." Six could barely get her words out. Her lips and tongue felt numb and her vision was starting to blur as she tried to focus on his face over his shoulder.

"I take back what I said Six, be quiet if you're going to talk like that." Boone growled, picking up speed as the north gate came into sight. Suddenly a bullet ripped through his right leg and Boone stumbled, falling to the ground and Six falling off his back and onto the street. Boone cursed as he pushed himself back on his feet, wincing when he put weight on his leg. Looking at Six he knew she wasn't going to be able to climb back on his back so he carefully picked her up and held her tightly against his chest as he started limping to the gate.

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

Arcade yawned as he walked around the tents trying to wake up. He'd give anything for a cup of coffee right now but unfortunately the last caravan didn't have any so he was screwed until the next caravan. His thoughts were interrupted when an eyebot flew over the fort walls and began beeping frantically at anyone that it flew near. Most ignored or tried pushing the eyebot away but this was too unusual for Arcade to ignore.

"Hey there buddy, what has your circuits going haywire?" He asked the eyebot as he walked up to it. The eyebot immediately perked up and began repeating a woman's voice saying help and flew over to the fort entrance. Taking it as a sign to follow it, Arcade walked over to the doors and pushed one open on the other side, collapsed about a foot away from the doors was a man, his back coated in blood and a woman with a bloody leg.

"Shit. Julie get a stretcher! We got two people that need help!"

[jacksonsdead]

FALLOUT OC INTERVIEW

Tagged by both @robobrainmurdermysterytheatre​ and @ticktockthem​ Thank you!  Rules:

1. Choose an OC. 

2. Answer them as that OC.

3. Tag 5 people to do the same. I’m choosing my courier!

(Also some of the answers feature Jack, who belongs to @robobrainmurdermysterytheatre​ ) Callie and Desmond are my other OCs ;) 

What is your name? Haley

How old are you? Late twenties? Hard to keep track out here

What do you look like? Blonde, been told by plenty of people that I’m pretty, unfortunately...that’s not always an advantage.

Where are you from? Where do you live now? I’m from Nevada, lived in a little community just outside of West Vegas when I was a kid. Now I mostly still travel but the boyfriend has a house just outside of Freeside so I guess that’s what I’d consider home.

What was your childhood like? Not...great...Don’t really remember much of my parents, just flashes. They were apparently pretty famous singers/performers but they died when I was still really young. I was raised by my older sister and most of my memories of her are good, which... makes dealing with things harder considering how she died. And after she died? Well...I was 17 and stupid and I’m not getting into the rest. 

What groups are you friendly with? Are you allied with any factions? I don’t consider myself ‘aligned’ with any factions but there are some I’m on good terms with, honestly I try to keep my nose out of things entirely but...well you have to draw a line sometimes. I respect the hell out of the Followers of the Apocalypse, one of the few factions I’d go out of my way to help out. And the Kings? I like their leader a lot, seems level-headed and pragmatic. And have you seen the way they dress? Every member of the Kings is attractive as hell. 

Tell me about your best friend. Don’t have that many but my closest are probably Callista, Cass and Jack. Callie’s running New Vegas now, was always ambitious as hell, no one I’d trust more to get shit done and done right. Plus we’ve been looking out for each other since we were kids. 

Cass is the type of friend who is going to tell it to you straight--she doesn’t mince words, doesn’t bother with niceties, and honestly, there’s something refreshing about that. Really fun to drink with too.

And Jack? Jack is...well he’s way more than just my best friend, more on that later.

Do you have a family? Tell me about them! I have a daughter, didn’t know about her until a few months ago. Basically one day this 12-year-old kid shows up and introduces herself. We’re still getting to know each other at this point, but she’s sharp; really clever and funny. 

What about a partner or partners? ...I could have you sitting here all day but I’ll only mention the ones that matter. There’s Manny, Desmond and Jack. 

Manny is an ex but when we were together? He was just, such a genuine person; authentic and honest. I knew pretty much *right* away that he was way too good for me, but it was hard to not want that, to not want someone just...nice? But he was still so obviously in love with someone else so I ended things and maybe that wasn’t fair; I honestly hope him and Boone work out. 

Desmond...well the way we met isn’t exactly the type of story you tell the family. Thought he’d just be another in the line of feeling-sorry-for-myself-late-night-mistakes. But he ended up being one of the most decent people I’ve ever met, quit the raiders for me and buy a house kind of decent--didn’t think I’d ever find something like that. He’s also really good with the kid so, think I’ll stick around. 

And finally, Jack. 

(screenshot courtesy of @robobrainmurdermysterytheatre​ )

I met Jack when I left Nevada for a while--took the first caravan I could find going the furthest away and eventually made it to Boston. I was...not ok. I’d had one foot off the edge of a cliff for a while at that point, ready to fall, just waiting for a push. Turns out Jack was too--and I think we both felt that instinctually, that connection. We had a lot in common, that disregard for our own lives, that recklessness born of misery and through it all, somehow, we each became the one thing keeping the other from drowning.  And man, we had fun too. I can honestly say there’s no one that *gets* me like Jack, knows how to have a good time. Some of my fondest memories are my time with him; Sometimes I wonder why I even left Boston at all. We still talk, and he visits in the winter, wish he could visit more though, I miss him all the time.  Who are your enemies, and why? The Omertas and I have history and no, I don’t want to talk about it. All I’ll say is that if you go into Gomorrah knowing that they get teenagers hooked on chems and then force them into prostitution to pay back their debt, then fuck you. 

Have you ever heard of The Brotherhood of Steel? What do you think about them? They’re kind of assholes right? I mean, you fly around on airships with prewar tech that could be used to help, I don’t know, the world, but instead you use it to grind people under your heel, to “civilize” and then you take any prewar tech they may have away for yourselves. Not a huge fan of them honestly, don’t trust them...but the power armor and airships are pretty cool, I’ll admit. And to be fair, there are a few individuals in the brotherhood that seem pretty decent, I’m just not a real fan of organized militaristic factions as a whole.

What about The Enclave? Don’t really know very much about them but the propaganda spewing fascist patriotism is annoying as hell. 

How do you feel about Super Mutants? Hate fighting them, try to keep my distance; there’s just something viscerally terrifying about mutated GIANT used-to-be-people that turns my stomach and gets the fight-or-flight response going.  Granted, the friendly ones are fine, but there’s also something so sad about them too, makes you sick to your stomach knowing that they used to...not be that way.

What’s the craziest fight you’ve ever been in? The entirety of my time in the Sierra Madre Casino was just one awful clusterfuck that’d I’d rather forget. 

Have you ever fought a Deathclaw? Unfortunately, and I have the scars to prove it. I typically try to avoid them or snipe them from a distance. Better make your shots count though, cause once they see you, it’s over. 

Do you like fighting? To be honest, most times I try to talk my way out of it, but sometimes there’s nothing that you can do to avoid them. And then? Well sometimes there’s stress that nothing but a good fight can ease. What’s your weapon of choice? Prefer to keep things at a distance, typically use a Anti-Material rifle. But if things get close a .45 pistol or That Gun is my next choice.

How do you survive? Your wits, your charm, your skills, brute force, some combination? (a.k.a. what’s your S.P.E.C.I.A.L?) Half the time? Spite. Spite and instinct. Charm can usually get me out of most situations, or into them depending. And usually if you’re stuck, hacking a terminal or two can get you all the information you need. 

Have you ever been in a vault? What do you think about them? 

👏I👏Hate👏Vaults👏

How do you beat all the radiation around here? Has it affected you? I carry a lot of Rad-X and try to filter my own water whenever I can. I have no issue with ghouls but I don’t want to be one. 

What’s your favorite wasteland critter? I know that they’re dangerous but NightStalkers are just cool.

What’s your least favorite wasteland critter? MOTHERFUCKING CAZADORS. You see one set of wings? Don’t worry there’s 50 more nearby AT LEAST.  How do you feel about robots? Robots are honestly fascinating, Jack taught me a lot about programming them. And I’d do anything for ED-E, they’re my favorite to travel with. 

How many caps do you have on you right now? Doesn’t matter how many I have, if I need more I’ll just play a few hands of Caravan or Black Jack. 

Nuka Cola or Sunset Sarsaparilla? I like both honestly (especially Quantums) but out of the two I’d take a Sunset Sarsaparilla, way more refreshing in the desert heat. 

Do you do chems? Used to be a Med-X junkie when I was a teenager, try to stay away from it now but it’s hard not to use when they’re such a tactical advantage. I keep chems on me for battles and occasionally for recreation even though it’s probably not a great idea. Used to do drug runs for the Great Khans too. 

Do you ever think about the Pre-War world? I hack a lot of terminals and read a lot of emails and it really does get me curious. Trying to imagine a world that I only have the skeletons of to use as a frame of reference? A lot of the stories Jack tells me seem impossible, but the evidence is all around us if you know where to look. It’s honestly fascinating to learn about. 

What’s your deepest regret? What would you do differently? My sister shouldn’t have died, I should have stopped them or, hell, I should have been the one to...It just shouldn’t have happened.

What’s your biggest achievement? Or what do you hope to achieve? I’d say that being a courier and going to all these places that most people have never seen or heard of or imagined is definitely a big accomplishment. I’d like to see more.

What do you want for the future? For yourself? Your friends? The world? I could try and say I have lofty, big goals for the world, that I look at the big picture but honestly? I just want to find peace for myself. To not wake up already tired. I want my kid to be happy and provided for and never go through anything I went through. I want to see Jack. 

I TAG: @undeadcourier and @courierspikeee

[the-desert-dancer]

I got tagged by the amazing @vaultsexteen, so Imma try and do this with my newest Courier, Solomon Tilo. I hope this is good? Anyway lets start this!

Rules:

1. Choose an OC.

2. Answer them as that OC.

3. Tag 5 people to do the same

1. What is your name?

Its Solomon. Solomon Tilo

2. How old are you?

Well daddy dearest never bothered keeping track of that information, so how should I know? 40, maybe.

3. What do you look like?

Someone you don’t wanna piss off, that good enough of an answer? I’m tall, bulky, and got a face not even a mother could love.

4. Where are you from? Where do you live now?

No place you’ve ever heard of. I come from Cave Creek, a place in what used to be Arizona. See, I knew you wouldn’t know where it is. Anyway, where I live now? I’m currently stuck in the Mojave, but I don’t have any permanent location. I prefer it that way.

5. What was your childhood like?

Oh my childhood was just delight after delight. Forced to participate in fights to the death in the afternoon, beaten like a dog by my drunk dad in the evening. Absolutely delightful childhood, it was. Happy you brought it up now?

6. What groups are you friendly with? Are you allied with any factions?

Allies? All allies are, are people who haven’t stabbed you in the back yet. So no, I am not ‘allied’ with any faction. I’m friendly enough with the NCR, long as they don’t go sticking their nose in my business.

7. Tell me about your best friend.

Didn’t you just hear me talking a few seconds before? I ain’t got no allies or friends, just the way I like it. So stop asking me dumb questions, before I start getting really pissed off.

8. Do you have a family? Tell me about them!

I have a family, but it ain’t none of your business who they are. Next question.

(Author’s Note: Solomon has three younger siblings, all of whom currently reside within NCR territory).

9. What about a partner or partners?

Do I look like the type of man interested in sex? Its what causes men in my line of work to get killed; they sleep around, let their guard down, and sooner than later they end up with a knife in their chest and their caps stolen.

10. Who are your enemies, and why?

Oh, the Legion easily. As much of a bastard as I am, I ain’t into the flesh trade. Unlike a lotta people, I’ve been in Legion territory; my old home town got burnt to the ground by the Legion, the only good thing those Bull fuckers have ever done. But the things I’ve seen Legion soldiers do to their captives...that shit is too much even for me, and I once curb stomped a guy’s head into the pavement til it was just red paste.

11. Have you ever heard of The Brotherhood of Steel? What do you think about them?

Yeah, I heard of them. Once all big and mighty, hoarding tech and acting all superior to everyone else. Now? Now they’re just rats, hiding in their little caves, praying no-one finds them. I would feel bad for them, if I gave a shit.

12. What about The Enclave?

*Solomon lets out a loud laugh* Oh the big bad Enclave, the boogie man of the Wasteland. All the time when I was a kid, I had to hear stories about just how scary the Enclave was, about all the horrible ways they could take me or my family away and no-one will ever see them again. Now? They’re just ghosts, a forgotten memory. So why should I be concerned about the dead, huh?

13. How do you feel about Super Mutants?

Only thing in the Wastelands uglier than me. Most of those Muties are crazier than a Jet addict going through withdrawals and deserve to be put down. Simple.

14. What’s the craziest fight you’ve ever been in?

I’ve been fighting for years, things tend to blend together for me honestly. If I had to choose...it’d have to be this fight I had years ago, with this Great Khan, I don’t even know what his name was. This fucker was hopped up on so many chems, he just wouldn’t go down. I broke his fingers, his nose, even his goddamn right knee. He just kept getting back up and charging me, screaming like a freaking lunatic. Took a bullet to the brain to finally put his ass down.

15. Have you ever fought a Deathclaw?

You know, I once knew a mercenary, name was Obu. Big guy, dumb as bricks. Fancied this girl who wouldn’t even give him the time of day. Well Obu got it into his big dumb brain that if he killed a Deathclaw and brought its head back as a trophy, then this girl would finally give a shit about him. Well when the search party finally found Obu, half of him was spread out across the ground and the other half was in a Deathclaw’s belly.

Why did I tell you that little story? Well do you think I’m as fucking stupid as Obu was? Cause you don’t fuck with Deathclaws, you give them a goddamn wide berth.

16. Do you like fighting?

If that ain’t a loaded question...*Solomon chuckles, shaking his head*. No, not really. I hate it, every fucking second of it. Reminds me of when daddy dearest forced me to fight people to the death when I was just a kid. But ya know what? I use that in my fights. That anger, that hatred, that fucking fury, into beating up anyone that gets in my way. I want them to know just how I feel, when Im kicking their teeth in.

17. What’s your weapon of choice?

Whatever I can reach for. In the mercenary business, you can’t get too attached to your weapons; shit breaks after a while. But when push comes to shove? I can always rely on my fists, unlike these other mercs who piss themselves if they don’t got their precious fancy laser weapons.

18. How do you survive? Your wits, your charm, your skills, brute force, some combination? (a.k.a. what’s your S.P.E.C.I.A.L?)

Charms? You’ve obviously never met me if you think I have any charm whatsoever. I survive cause I’ve been fighting people to the death since I was 14 and taken beatings since I was born. That enough of an answer?

19. Have you ever been in a vault? What do you think about them?

Only when I’ve been really desperate and needed the caps. Those Vaults I tell ya, they’re death traps. Just experiments meant to fuck with people, and causing everyone to end up dead. That’s all those Vaults seem to do. Now why don’t I like going in Vaults? Cause the things that killed the original Vault Dwelllers, tend to still stick around. Like when I was hired to do a job in Vault 22…let’s just say I burned the entire goddamn Vault to the ground when I was done and locked it behind me.

20. How do you beat all the radiation around here? Has it affected you?

Stock up on Radaway and Rad-X, easy. It ain’t too hard.

21. What’s your favorite wasteland critter?

Molerats; easy to kill and easy source of meat.

22. What’s your least favorite wasteland critter?

Anyone who’s a mercenary will agree with me on this; cazadores. Those fuckers pick up the scent of blood from miles away and will hunt you down til they're drinking you dry. Getting wounded out in the Wastes is a goddamn death sentence, if you’re picked up by a Cazador.

23. How do you feel about robots?

They exist. I don’t exactly trust them though; they just seem like they’re ready to kill you at any second.

24. How many caps do you have on you right now?  

Oh you don’t wanna know the answer to that question. Cause if I answer it, I’mma have to put your ass to sleep.

25. Nuka Cola or Sunset Sarsaparilla?

Do I look like a kid?

26. Do you do chems?

Of course not. Chems are for fucking idiots who have more caps than common sense.

27. Do you ever think about the Pre-War world?

Why should I think about them? They’re all dead, just ghosts. Even them ghouls who still are around, they’re not even alive; they’re just shells, dead people walking who don’t know their dead yet. I don’t bother myself with the dead, I focus on the living.

28. What’s your deepest regret? What would you do differently?

I didn’t kill my dad sooner. Next question.

29. What’s your biggest achievement? Or what do you hope to achieve?

My biggest achievement? I’m still alive. Who gives a shit about what you achieve, if you’re dead?

30. What do you want for the future? For yourself? Your friends? The world?

To still be alive, although I doubt it. Mercenaries ain’t exactly got a long shelf life, ya know. But that’s a road I’ll cross when I get to it.

I tag @goblin-deity, @fewal-cowboy, @cyndercrys, @vkm11 and @crackinglamb

[recentnews18-blog]

New Post has been published on https://shovelnews.com/a-night-at-dimples-japantowns-sometimes-curious-often-funny-always-welcoming-oasis/

A night at Dimples, Japantown's sometimes curious, often funny, always welcoming oasis

It’s a Friday around 11 p.m., and Dimples is in full swing. The karaoke rooms of this subterranean Japantown bar are occupied by one party of mild middle-aged men singing Korean songs, and one group of decidedly not-mild 30-somethings singing the standards. Shouted segments of “Don’t Stop Believin’” blare into the main bar whenever someone opens the door.

At the bar, an old man in a newsboy cap nurses a Budweiser as he watches a sports recap on TV, a bag of golf clubs propped next to his stool. To his left, a guy in his 20s chats with a bartender, while both of them ignore the fact that the guy’s friend is full-on asleep, face down on the bar.

To the right, near the door — where posted notices include a “no smoking” sign (a few feet from where two patrons are smoking) and a flier alerting victims of sex trafficking of their rights — is a foursome that looks to have just come from a more upscale establishment, a double date.

“I mean, he doesn’t like soup or salad,” says one of the women, a blonde who came in limping from her heels, to the other woman. “What am I supposed to do?” Her friend has no discernible solution.

It is, in many ways, a typical dive bar on a Friday night. But Dimples is more than meets the eye. There’s a mythology to this place — and you don’t need to be a troublemaker to leave Dimples with a good story. People who are not fighting types get into fights at Dimples. Mistakes are made. Once, while standing outside, I watched a man bolt up the staircase, vomit efficiently on the sidewalk, then casually trot back down.

“I’ve been asked to leave Dimples,” wrote Chris Ying last year in a Chronicle column on Japantown and the kind of guilty voyeurism the neighborhood can inspire. “If you’ve been to Dimples, you understand what it takes to get kicked out of Dimples.”

For the record, my interest remains piqued.

Dimples was opened in 2002 by Tracy Yang, an effusive woman now in her 50s with a warm and frequent laugh. Yang emigrated to the U.S. from South Korea in 1982; she was running an Irish pub in the Sunset when the Japantown bar came up for sale, and she decided to make a move. Then called Club Cello (though city maps show the basement room was technically USA Karaoke Box), the bar got a swift rebrand: Dimples was the name of Yang’s favorite restaurant back home.

In 2018, San Francisco’s Dimples is more a time machine than a means of vicarious international travel, thanks to its interior design, which can best be described as a sort of faded glory, vaguely “Miami Vice”-esque kitsch. It boasts magenta lighting, mint-green vinyl booths, indoor foliage, mirrored walls, two rooms for private karaoke ($75 an hour), a jukebox (sadly upgraded to the digital variety in the past couple years), a small seating area at the bottom of the entry stairwell in which someone is always chain-smoking and an L-shaped bar from behind which an all-female staff serves cocktails that are neither well-made nor especially reasonably priced. Depending on the day and time, you might also be served free peanuts or pretzels or seemingly leftover fried squid.

The cumulative effect is both unabashedly strange and, somehow, charming as hell.

More Information

To order: Sierra Nevada in a bottle ($5)

Where: Dimples, 1700 Post St., S.F. 415-775-6688.

When: 7 p.m. to 2 a.m. daily.

And then there’s this: In April 2014, Dimples had its license suspended for 45 days after a three-month investigation in which the California Department of Alcoholic Beverage Control determined what nearly every Dimples patron already knew. Dimples is a hostess bar.

Hostess bars, in which patrons can pay extra for female company, are a fixture of the nightlife industry in countries including Japan. They are legal in California, and commonplace in Hawaii. There’s nothing explicit about the transaction: A table full of businessmen might pay a surcharge for a pretty employee to sit and flirt with them for an hour or two, for example.

But the ABC caught Dimples on a technicality: It’s fine for hostesses to receive tips directly from patrons, but apparently illegal for them to receive a cut of the bar’s take. The ABC’s report described this as a “drink solicitation scheme” that could “contribute to the over-service of alcohol.” Within the industry, regulators point to the profit-sharing — not the hostessing itself — as a gateway to prostitution.

There have been no prostitution charges at Dimples. But some of the bar’s idiosyncrasies are hard to ignore: Roughly half the times I’ve been to Dimples, there’s been a chair in the single-stall women’s bathroom, sometimes accompanied by a few pump-top bottles of lotion. Whispers about the karaoke rooms’ less musical uses have floated around for years.

Suffice it to say, few who have been to Dimples were stunned by the suspension. “Dimples Karaoke Bar is Shut Down and No One is Surprised,” read the Bold Italic’s headline. After closing for 45 days in 2014, the bar reopened around Memorial Day. I heard that weekend was packed.

Yang chalks the legal issues up to one bartender and a handful of isolated incidents in which customers were solicited for extra cash after asking servers to dance, she says. Since that time, she keeps a more watchful eye.

“I don’t want any trouble,” she says.

It was, it turned out, Yang’s second sting inside three months. Pagoda, a bar just up the block whose license is also under her legal name (Sonyong Crouere), had been slapped with a 90-day suspension in February 2014. In Pagoda’s case, according to The Chronicle, “one employee was arrested on suspicion of soliciting prostitution and another was investigated over allegations of pimping.”

When asked about the Pagoda allegations, Yang waves off mention of funny business there as well, but adds that she’s recently sold Pagoda to her half-brother and sister. She’s taking a step back. She just moved to Concord after years in San Francisco, and she has five rescue dogs that need her attention.

But she’s keeping Dimples. She loves Dimples. And Dimples, she says, is now following the rules.

I saw little evidence of hostessing — in air quotes or otherwise — on my two most recent visits to Dimples. On one occasion a server asked an older man at the end of the bar for money, which she promptly used for the jukebox.

No, on these visits, my most enduring impression of Dimples was the almost stunning lack of effort they seem to put into what most bars would call their main goal: making and serving alcoholic beverages.

At our table of six on this particular Friday, an impressive one-third of the drinks seem to be wrong. My friend’s date made the beginner’s mistake of ordering a cocktail with more than two ingredients: a Cosmopolitan, as advertised on the laminated menu card. We all sip it, and it’s not a Cosmo. It’s Bacardi or a similar rum, plus something red. Another friend, who ordered a Cazadores Tequila and soda, is more intrigued than upset by the apparent errors. What’s in it that’s sweet, exactly? Tonic water?

Nearby, a man is having a waitress itemize the tab she’s just closed for him. Does he believe his bill was jacked up as part of a “drink solicitation” scheme? I wonder. Or something much less insidious, just an honest mistake? You can almost see the triangulations: his sense of justice versus not wanting to argue with this friendly woman, especially while someone has propped the karaoke-room door open and “I Want It That Way” is making it difficult to talk at all.

And then perhaps the more important question: How exactly do I justify my affection for this place? It’s tough, as I sit in this weirdly lit basement, listening to this man argue about his bill, while my friends sip bad drinks.

I’m still working it out, but I think my Dimples loyalty has to do with the following: life in this city can sometimes feel besieged by affectation — by shiny surfaces, by self-importance and exclusivity, by menus that treat mixology like it’s going to cure brain cancer.

In that context, Dimples is an oasis. A sometimes gross, often funny, always welcoming oasis. Come as you are, it whispers. And all kinds of people heed its call.

Around 1 a.m., the woman on the date with the picky eater is making friends with someone from the karaoke room, asking if she can join. A server is absentmindedly patting the sleeping customer on the back. Overcharged guy has paid his bill — and then been persuaded by his friends to get another round.

We decide it’s time to leave then, to climb the stairs, up out of the bar and back into San Francisco, the San Francisco of “rules” and “expectations” and “standard drink recipes.” We’re a little tipsy, a little lighter in the wallet — but altogether comforted by the evidence that this city still has its weird edges. You just might have to look underground.

Emma Silvers is a San Francisco freelance writer. Twitter: @emmaruthless Email: food@sfchronicle.com

Source: https://www.sfchronicle.com/restaurants/article/A-night-at-Dimples-Japantown-s-sometimes-13350144.php