#hes a ghoul methinks

[deadonbestgore]

um hi i redrew this as mylo . hes my self insert everybody be kind to him hes shy

[fan-therapy]

Hiii, would it be possible if you could write a scenario where there’s a new ghoul and the pack has a hierarchy, so she’s trying to figure out where she fits in and maybe challenges mountain or one of the other male ghouls and he/they put her in her place by getting her to submit to him/them…? Thank you!

do you mean sex? i think you mean sex. i’m writing sex

also sorry this took so fucking long, i'm depressed lmao

Warnings- ghouls are kind of mean/territorial, they are rude to you! hatefuckingggg, semi public methinks, fingering, a little bit of smacking yk, unprotected sex don't be like them, choking sorta, kind of a quickie

It's like she isn't even there.

She doesn't know her place yet. She doesn't even have the dynamics of the pack figured out, and they've still yet to properly fit her uniform to her body. They brought her a size too big, just in case- it's baggy around the waist and the pants and sleeves are certainly too long. There's even an inch too much space between her toe and the front of the shoe. She is, in every way, out of place. The rookie. The first thing that set her off was Dew- of course it was him and his attitude- he gave Y/n the meanest side-eye, glaring daggers at her. She's an intruder. Sure, maybe intruders are dangerous in the pit, but this isn't the pit. This isn't the pit, and she isn't trying to threaten anyone, and it's starting to get exhausting.

The older ghouls are more powerful- they're stronger and they're better, yes. But it would be nice to feel welcome. The final thing that made her snap was at dinner, in the dining hall, in front of everyone.

"Why are you acting like I hardly exist?" She blurted out after being ignored. Repeatedly.

“Why do you act like you can come in here and be on top of us all?” Dew growled back at her, pinning his ears.

“I’m not!”

“You two,” Aether finally said, attempting to diffuse the situation. “Relax.”

The two ghouls bore their teeth at each other, growling lowly.

“You’re only making things more complicated. You’ll get used to each other eventually.” Mountain chimed in, placing his clasped hands on the table. At the end of the table, Phantom and Rain sat in silence, ignoring the conflict as they sipped on the beef stew they’d been served.

“Shut up!” She snapped at Mountain, who frowned.

“Don’t yell.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

Mountain sighed, rising from his seat and standing at his full height. He grabbed her by the sleeve and she hissed at him. “Let me go! Let go!”

The rest of the pack sat without objecting, looking away as Mountain dragged Y/n away from the table and down the hall.

Eventually, he stopped and slammed her into a wall. "You don't understand! I'm sick of your fucking attitude!"

Fear flashed in her eyes. Not enough to stop her. "Let me go!"

"Shut up!"

She went silent at his command. Mountain was big. And he was strong. And she wasn't quite so sure that she could take him if he got aggressive. She wasn't quite thinking straight- "...Make me."

With that, he grabbed her hands and pinned her to the wall. His lips pressed to hers, the kiss filled with what was either passion or rage. Maybe both.

"Don't you fucking talk back to me." He growled after pulling away for air and then diving back in. His hands moved to grab at her waist, squeezing and groping and pulling at her uniform. Y/n's hands reached for his collar and grasped at it like a lifeline.

It didn't take long for him to finally reach her belt and unclasp it with shockingly nimble hands. As soon as it was undone, he slid down her pants and underwear without shame. His fingers made their way to her hole and rubbed at her folds. She let out a moan and he smacked her thigh in warning.

Without sparing any discomfort, he slid two fingers in and moved to bite at her jawline. She gasped and clawed at his back, head dropping back against the wall. "I fucking hate you."

"I don't like you much either."

Right as she was almost there, about to cum, he pulled away. He fucking pulled away.

"F-Fuck you!"

He growled under his breath in response, mumbling something incoherent as he undid his own belt and pulled his cock out of his underwear. He grabbed Y/n's shoulders and spun her around so her chest was pressed against the wall.

He slid the tip of his cock between her folds, eliciting a soft moan from his throat. Without warning, Mountain pushed in in one thrust and Y/n let out a loud groan. The stretch was agonizing and incredible and too much all at once. When he grabbed her waist and started giving shallow thrusts, he was hitting her sweet spot just right. One of his hands pressed against the wall for balance and the other came to wrap around her throat, resting there as a symbol of the power he held.

"M-Mountain!"

"Say it again."

"Oh f-fuck, Mountain, fuck-" She gasped for air as he picked up the pace, groaning. The ghouls in the dining room had to be able to hear them now.

"Come on, fuck..." He groaned, mercilessly speeding up. The hand around her neck tightened. "Can't last long, you're so fucking tight."

She sobbed out in a mix of pleasure and pain, trembling fingers coming to rub at her swollen clit. She wouldn't last long, either, and she would never live that down. You can't just move on after getting fucked by someone you hate and cumming within minutes.

Moments later, she came with a cry, clamping down on his dick. If he wasn't pressing her body into the wall, she might have collapsed. Mountain climaxed not long after, shooting his load deep inside of her. Mountain was quick to recover, pulling Y/n's pants back up and buttoning them again while she tried to catch her breath. He had returned to his calm, easy-going demeanor easily, though there was a hint of smugness under his tone when he finally spoke.

"I take it you've learned your lesson?"

[briarbeesstuff]

Saw posts on here about mado learning about the washing upper management of the ccg, going apeshit and helping take them down and another about how ghoul biology probably works with the whole digestion thing and then another about how skewed all research is about ghouls, so consider:

Mado currently going through re evaluating world views crisis meeting nishiki and kimi.

(ATP I can’t remember if nishiki trying to find a substitute food or vaccine or digestive thingy so ghouls can eat human food being whys he’s at uni is a head cannon of mine or not , idk if it’s ever actually specified what he even does but I’ve had pharmaceuticals in my head for ages, probably picked it up from a fanfic methinks I can’t find anything in the official wiki)

Just. Can you imagine the crisis this old man would have if he found out that everything he knows about his sworn enemy is false? That they’re ghouls trying to not eat people, who aren’t blood thirsty monsters? And that a ghoul and a human could genuinely fall in love? That outside of the ccg and their controlled information the japans leading expert on ghoul biology is probably kimi nishino

Anyways have a ramble

[huevobuevo]

Okay last post thank GOD

These are the final PD Livesketch drawings from episode 10-11 methinks ?? Ya 💛

Fucking Doug man. I loved that guy. If you zoom in you guys can see the drawing I was starting on when the Reveal happened. We could’ve had a good life. A REAL good life-

I think it’s kinda funny looking back that my anger unlocked a new skill I never practiced before- like this didn’t have no sketches no lineart nuthin man I just went “oh FUCK this guy” and started slapping colors until sumn happen like oh shit okay .????? tf???

THIS GUY TOO WHAT THE FUCK . I THOUGHT I WAS CURSED MAN I WAS LIKE “oh shit he bad af wait a minute hollup??” AND THEN HE DISMEMBERED TIDE???? FUCK OFF BIZLY. FUCK. OFF.

(side bar I am Forever dissapointed we never saw a Ghoul vs Wisp!Wiwi fight like sw man)

I look back on this as I’m on season 2 ep 20 and I start tearing up a bit man. I miss Ashe. I miss him sm. Now iiiii have no one to teeeeeeell . How I . lost my . best friend . /lyrics

fuck you mark

[ghulah]

The Papas, DND and VTM

As some of you know, I am an avid TTRPG liker, watcher, player, etc. The idea of the Papas (and the Ghouls) playing a campaign has always been very fun to me, so I consulted with the council (my wives @bonesy-doodles and @parabunny).

And so, I present to you, the Papas and their set ups for Dungeons and Dragons and Vampire: the Masquerade!

Primo

So, Primo is overall very much the traditional Dracula of the bunch. He's all dark and mysterious and probably actually evil (by some metric), despite the garden tending and the (poisonous) plants he takes care of. He for sure is a roleplay guy but will kick ass in combat.

In DND, he would definitely attempt to play a Dhampir Warlock or Artificer. Artificer especially would allow for alchemy and a lot more fucking around with spellcasting - therefore making it both challenging and engaging and for Primo to pull some insane shit during session. He could also just multiclass Warlock/Artificer, definitely pact of Fiend, Undead, or the Great Old One. The Dhampirism is for vibes, okay. It just fits.

As for VTM, he would be Malkavian or Nosferatu, but the oracle aspect of Malkavian makes it all the more ominous. There is also Hecata and Tzimisce! Either way, he's one of the more ancient, traditional vampires. Primo would play VTM and say, "I am Cain." (bones said this) Much to the chagrin of the Master of Ceremonies.

Primo is also a dice hoarder, he has so many sets and he has a specialized dice bag for it too. It's embroidered.

Secondo

Secondo is very - how you say - wild? He would bring chaos to the table I fear, but he does it in character rather than like being a frustrating player. While he does read the rules well, he does it to get around them I feel.

In DND, he'd play a fighter class, probably just straight up Fighter or Barbarian. And he'd play bigger species like Dragonborn and Orcs! So basically the tank and also main hitter. But for a little bit of religious aspects, an Oathbreaker Paladin would be perfect for him. It has those angsty, turned back on my god vibes as well as the tankiness of melee classes. a Barbarian Paladin multiclass would hit hard methinks.

VTM wise, he'd definitely be Ravnos. I considered Toreador and Gangrel, but I think Ravnos fits the best. He loves (un)living on the edge and rather than the high art vibes that Toreador embody, it's a lot more, well, wild! And also cool. Very rogue-ish and plays by his own rules.

I think he likes fun dice that are like, metal specifically. Some of them are more dark, gothic designs and then some of them are just super fun.

Terzo

Alright, this guy for sure is a roleplay-heavy player. Yeah combat is fun and all but only to get shit done. He loves taking his time curating his character's aesthetics and their motivations and all. He will stick to the bit, do not try him.

That being said, of course he's playing a Bard in DND. He would play either a Tiefling or something of the Elf variety. College of Eloquence would be what I'd assign to him. The bardiest bard to bard, you know? However!! He could also play a Warforged, specifically one with Art Deco elements and that could also reference Frankenstein. It always comes back to Frankenstein with him.

To riff off of the artistry of bards - Terzo would be a Toreador. They're known for being artisans. They're beautiful and charming, seductive...all of which fits the bill for the type of character Terzo likes to play. On the other hand, he could very well play a Brujah. They're known as rebels, warrior-scholars. Terzo would play a vampire that's very Vampire Chronicle-esque.

He's also pretty superstitious about his dice, like if one of them rolls badly he will retire it.

Copia

I think Copia also enjoys the roleplay aspect of TTRPG's a little more than the combat but he gets super giddy whenever he hits a critical hit or takes someone down.

For DND, he would play a Tiefling Cleric. He's got that vibe that he enjoys both the aesthetics and the idea of Tieflings conceptually! Personally I think he always has a Tiefling PC on hand at all times, like it's just his thing. Other than Cleric, he might also take Druid for Wildshape, so he could turn into a little rat. Otherwise, he might also enjoy Sorcerer (magic nepotism /hj). Who has time to learn spells? Not him!

VTM though, it'd be funny if he played a Lasombra. Definitely hilarious considering their whole social-climbing thing and the administrative aspect! Tangentially, the Ministry Clan would also be kinda ironic. I just think he plays that sort of vampire that is less Ancient but more like What We Do In The Shadows vampire.

He likes having dice for each of his characters, he might reuse some, but he prefers having one set for one PC.

Extra

They all play an Oops! All Tiefling Bard Game, at some point. It is so stupidly fun.

There have been fights over in-game choices. Many of them. It's okay, they get through it.

The Ghouls do play as well! I have not figured out their own preferences yet, but trust, they get to have their TTRPG time.

OC tidbits

My OC, Sibling Nephtys would run games like Monsterhearts (college ver) and Monster of the Week.

Bones's OC, Sibling Rigorian, would run Dungeons and Dragons.

Para's OC, Bunny, would run Vampire: The Masquerade.

[cumulo-ghoulll]

Copia HC 🔵🔴🟢

(ft. Mary Goore and Doyle Wolfgang Von Frankenstein)

Copia, Doyle, and Mary being the ultimate trio of friends? Methinks so!

Mary initially friends with both Copia and Doyle separately but introduced the two to each other.

Alternately, they've all been friends since they were kids and have watched each others personalities and musical careers grow

Mary and Doyle getting on like a house on fire (with a few houses actually being set on fire along the way)

Mary and Doyle writing songs about dead people and being unstoppable forces and Copia proudly showing them his song about his favourite animal

Mary and Doyle going to watch Copia sing and getting front row seats so Copia can see them

The trio wearing each other's merch

Doyle sharing stories about being in Misfits while Copia and Mary laugh at his funny anecdotes

Doyle and Mary talking about guitars and Copia pretending to have any idea what they're on about

Mary and Doyle getting drunk on cheap beer and Copia looking around Mary's flat for some well aged wine (he learns to bring his own next time)

Doyle and Copia watching Mary play their first gig in some dingy bar, only getting payed $20, and still hyping them up after the show

Copia taking his jacket back to one of the ministry tailors because Doyle ripped a seam in the arms when he tried it on

Doyle and Copia poking fun at Mary for being so skinny

Copia taking Mary clothes shopping to expand their wardrobe past old band shirts and skinny jeans

Doyle and Mary trying to convince Copia to go the Grammys. "You never know, you might win something!" "For once."

Mary and Doyle being the first people Copia called after his plastic surgery, not Seestor.

Copia sending Mary and Doyle pictures of his new stage outfits to get their opinion

Doyle taking Copia and Mary to the gym. Mary who's surprisingly strong and Copia who only just manages to squeak Doyle's name for help after picking up a weight way too heavy for him

Copia taking Doyle and Mary back to the ministry to meet the pack. Mary who's secretly terrified of the ghouls and Doyle who immediately becomes best friends with Aether and Swiss

Mary and Doyle sneaking in to the church to see Copia's papal anointment

Doyle helping to look after the ghoul kits on the weekends

The trio having movie nights together

Doyle who lights Mary's cigarette and Copia who snatches it out their mouth. "Those things can kill you you know." "I'm already dead!"

The trio who swap paint designs and dress up as eachother for Halloween

The trio going to build a bear together and picking out the dumbest matching names for their stuffies

The trio who go on vacation together. Mary who insists on doing pub crawls, Copia who drives them round the whole of Sweden insisting he knows the perfect place to get coffee, and Doyle who's incharge of taking pictures, holding the map, and keeping the money safe

UGH I LOVE THEM SM!! I could literally write about them forever. They're all my babygirls!!

(also I had so many more ideas but i forgot to save it in my drafts properly so I lost a lot of them 😭😭)

[fallout4-reacts]

if you dont mind doing reacts based off other posts, how would companions react to a low int but max luck sole?

hoping links work in asks 😭

I sincerely believe that as long as I don't plagiarise another author's work, there should be no problem. However, if I have a writer who is upset because I've been asked the same request, I hope we can clarify it Unfortunately, it appears that there is an issue with the link, but I believe that it's better that way so I can react without being influenced by what has previously been done

So there! How companions react to a very stupid yet extremely fortunate Sole (It makes me think of Gontran from Picsou). I write them a little clumsy to add effect, hope you'll like it  PS : Yeah, I know, I have forget Cait... but it's fix

Cait : She wasn't really paying attention as Tommy wooed the stranger on her behalf. As long as she has her psycho, she doesn't give a hoot about anything else. Now, Sole and Cait were prowling an ancient factory in search of salvageable equipment and materials. They had hardly gotten a few steps ahead when they heard someone else's feet approaching.

Cait reached for her weapon and signalled for Sole to keep silent. They peered over the bend and saw a band of raiders coming at them with weapons blazing.

“Methinks we have some guests," Cait whispered. "We must find a way to flee with haste."

After agreeing, Sole turned to run, but their foot became hooked on a stray part.

A loose piece of metal grabbed Sole's foot as they turned to run, and they lurched forward, toppling a pile of crates with a loud crash.

As soon as the raiders noticed them, they opened fire, sending bullets flying past their heads. While Sole and Cait were running through the factory, dodging gunfire and looking for an exit, a stray bullet hit a gas tank, causing a massive explosion that sent debris flying in every direction.

Miraculously, neither Sole nor Cait were hurt as they were tossed to the ground. However, the factory was completely destroyed, and all of the raiders were wiped out in the explosion.

"I cannae believe it," Cait exclaimed. " Ye almost killed us, but we made it oot alive."

Sole smiled awkwardly. "I already told you. I seem to attract unusual luck."

Cait shook her head, but a grin spread across her face anyhow. She remarked, "Well, I dinnae ken how ya do it. Verily, I am relieved to have ya by ma side.”

Codsworth : From day one, when Nate activated him, he could see the extent of the damage… and somehow understand why they made his purchase in the first place. On that first day, he was able to count thirteen accidents. From something as stupid as stepping on the carpet to failing to set the house on fire for a cup of coffee, Sole is a walking disaster. That’s why Codsworth goes way beyond being Butler to make sure Sole doesn’t touch anything in the house. Since the bombs, the poor robot has been having anxiety attacks. How could someone barely able to survive in a relatively safe world do so in an extremely dangerous one? But ironically, it does. Like when Sturge asked Sole to install a suitable water line for Sanctuary and the city wall collapsed in the river, sparing the purifier. Since then, they have a clean pool free of any radiation, to the delight of all who can go wading and unclog a little at the end of the day without risking becoming a ghoul. Sturges has learned a lesson, and Sole is forbidden to touch anything that could be crucial for the colony since. Anyway, it’s not like the poor bastard can distinguish a battery from a switch.

Curie : Before she realised there was a living being on the other side of the door, the said door literally collapsed on itself. Curie never left the chamber where she had been kept for so long. She doesn't need to be asked to accompany Sole inside the vault. Unfortunately, one of the molerats carrying the infection bit Sole. To be honest, they fell on the corpse and stuck the teeth in their buttocks, even though the man in Sole's company had taken care to exterminate them all to ensure Sole was not worried. However, Sole refuses the treatment. Instead, they want that Curie cures a child. Curie is concerned about the virus's repercussions. But, once again, she has no idea what God Luck the Klutz must pray for, but the virus does not appear to be suitable for development in Sole's system. They will have to deal with some repercussions, but Curie has seen influenza cause more harm.

Danse : As he was about to give up after seeing the ferals rush waves after waves, he heard a voice behind him.

"Don't be afraid! I'm here to assist—oops!"

And Danse sees all of the security fences around the police station collapsing one after the other. How is that even possible? He has no idea. These barriers are built to withstand violent attacks. They are now sure they are dominoes. As panic gripped the Brotherhood, he realised that, by an incredible chance, the barriers had collapsed on the ghouls, flattening them like pancakes. When the last one has passed, the soldier turns to face the newcomer and a companion who appears to be in exasperation.

"Good…work…I guess. You have just spared us from terrible death." "Good job?" Rhys, the knight, becomes irritated. "That jerk almost got us all killed in less than a few seconds!"

"Keep calm," Haylen said as she shaved him on the train. "In the end, we are saved."

The paladin looks at his officers, then at the newcomer, who is attempting to untangle a chewing gum caught under his sole. When he loses his balance, the man beside him advances almost instinctively to receive him, almost as if he had the strength of habit.

"So, uh... listen, I have a mission for you if you're interested."

The man in the Minutemen's hat looks up, surprised, and drops his friend to make large hand movements, but it's too late. Sole, sitting on their hindquarters, nods their head.

"With great pleasure!"

Deacon : To put it simply, he hasn't laughed this hard in... ever. He was having problems laughing despite his attempts to drown his misery in humor, and he now goes to bed every night with a stomach ache so severe as he bends in half all day. He has seen them evolve in the world from the day they left the vault and has only one regret: not having popcorn. He has no idea how the individual made it this far. First, the Concord raiders: Sole fell down a well when the hatch that concealed it crumbled beneath their feet, unleashing a deathclaw in all his rage. While Sole ran like crazy up the street to avoid the huge beast's claws, the monster literally shredded all of the raiders present. When the deathclaw followed Sole into the museum, they collapsed the platforms on which the raiders were standing... raiders that the deathclaw has now shred in pieces. Finally, as Sole climbed four to four floors to escape their pursuers, the monster slipped and fell two floors on his head and died. Deacon almost roasted himself at the time, an intense chuckle escaping him despite himself. The adventure did not come to an end there. A completely taken aback Minuteman also arrived at the scene, but instead of making him laugh, it seemed to make him believe in the possibility of fate. So he began by worshipping Sole... for a few moments. Everything went to hell when Sole opened their mouths. This person isn't simply clumsy; they're plain dumb. But Preston appears to have a good heart in the face of bad luck; he takes Sole under his wing, and their adventures that begin then give Deacon so much pleasure that he is eager to go and tell everything at HQ.

Dogmeat : Dogmeat is delighted with his new master. But they can be strange at times. His new master seemed to disregard everything that people normally know. Instead of bang bang bang, they threw their weapon at a molerat. Dogmeat is unfazed; he shreds the molerats. Then there are the men-who-kill. Sole appears to believe that they can be their friend and greets them enthusiastically. When the men-who-kill turn towards them by raising their weapons, Dogmeat grabs Sole by the bottom of their trousers to make them get back. The metal plate on which they stand then falls beneath their feet, revealing a furious deathclaw. When the monster chases Sole and Dogmeat, they run belly-dn ahead. Sole does not accompany Dogmeat forks into a place where he knows they will be safe. They kept running straight forward, as if they could outrun a deathclaw. Dogmeat lets out a whine and dashes behind the deathclaw. It has been stated that Dogmeat was a bright dog, but the canine never imagined that he would one day be more intelligent than a person.

Elder Maxson : Danse stands behind the new recruit, completely uneasy. The Elder addresses him first.

"I'm having difficulty comprehending your report. You appear to be saying that Sole is the element that helped your missions work in your benefit, but you also appear to have some concerns. Why beg for their promotion and support them while expressing uncertainty?"

"I recommend that you make up your own mind."

The Elder then turns to the recruit and begins his lengthy speech. Sole maintains a straight posture and attentive listening throughout. Maxson is animated and takes his time explaining himself. When he has finished his long speech, he turns to Sole, waiting for their decision.

"So... I can get a Power Armor?"

Arthur is shocked. He frowns and glances at Danse, who appears to be trying to hold back a grin.

"Indeed, yes. But, more importantly, do you understand what is being asked of you?"

"Oh, to put on your uniform and go about doing your errands. When will I receive my armor?"

"Our… errands?"

"Yes. Go there, Sole, and bring that back. I'm not upset. But I'm looking for my armor."

Maxson's eyes widen in astonishment He again catches Danse's eyes, and he is certain now that the paladin keeps his cool not to chuckle. He instructs Sole to await them on the bridge.

"What's the backstory?"

"This... this recruit is a very interesting element. He fulfils all our requests. But to be honest, it's a miracle more than anything else."

"Do they... do they appear uh... capable of thinking?"

"I have my doubts. The Minutemen who accompanied them were equally sceptical. Furthermore, I do not recommend accompanying them on a mission or entrusting them with anyone. But they do the job... in their own way."

Arthur pauses for a moment before sighing.

"I must admit that the hopelessness of our situation compels me to grant your request. As a result, as you suggested, I raise them to Knight. I have a first task for both of you."

"Us two, sir?"

"You brought them to me; now you will manage them."

Danse lets out a sigh. That was his greatest fear. But, hey, Sole isn't a bad guy. He's only had concerns after nearly being roasted alive in Arcjet.

Hancock : "Wow! Insurance! You're such a kind man!"

The mayor of Goodneighbor looks at the newcomers with a snigger. Finn is defrauding them. Then he encounters the irritated, perhaps tired, look of Diamond City detective Nick Valentine. He doesn't want his drifter to play games with someone he likes, so he approaches Finn and instructs him to comply.

"Nick Valentine makes a rare visit to town, and you’re hassling his friend here with that extortion crap?"

"No problem here," the newcomer hurriedly stated. "This gentleman was just selling me insurance."

Nick seems to open his mouth in protest, but Hancock take it in hand.

"You’re soft, Hancock. If you continue to allow strangers walk all over us, there will be a new mayor."

"Come on, man. This is me we’re talking about. Let me tell you something."

Sole seemed to be aware that something is about to occur. They approach towards the mayor, opening their mouth to speak, but their foot become caught in a slab on the ground.

"Oops!"

However, they cling to the dagger that Finn hid to cut Sole's throat at the first move, and the little scoundrel turns impaled on his own blade. Hancock, for his part, didn't have time to pull his own, which he had hidden behind his back, ready to impale Finn as well. He seems perplexed, Sole apologising repeatedly to Finn's body, which is now stiff on the ground.

"I'm very sorry, man. I didn't want to murder him... Mr. Ghoul, are you listening? I didn't want to murder your citizens. Please do not hurt me."

Nick shakes his head in disbelief, and the mayor cracks a faint smile.

"It's not the sharpest pencil in the box, is it?" He then explains "This guy was going to cut your throat. You had an amazing chance."

"Wait, no, I think you're wrong; he just wanted to sell me insurance."

Nick raises his hand as Hancock prepares to explain again in simple terms.

"Lost time, pal. Take this buddy as they come. I don't think they've realised I'm a synth yet."

"I'm not that stupid!" Sole objected. "But I know you don't make music. So, if you want to pretend to be something you're not, go ahead; but stop wanting—

"Synthetic! Not synthesizer!"

Hancock busts out laughing, and someone else behind his back does as well. He recognises Deacon's voice, but as he looks about among the street drifters, he doesn't see the Railroad agent.

Gage : Weeks of effort. It took weeks of miracles to get the stiff hands on a common project. The entire Gauntlet has now collapsed. Gage sighs and shakes his head. This new player is not playing. They are, nonetheless, intriguing. They will now have to handle Colter at the arena's door. Porter uses his intercom to confront the newcomer.

"Who's the one talking?"

"Porter, please answer the intercom. Approach, we’ll talk."

"Porter? That's... God's new name?"

Gage pauses, frowning. But dammit, he's met the stupidest guy he's ever encountered, and yet he evolves above the raiders.

"It's the intercom! It's on the wall! Near the lockers."

"Ah! Eheh. Yeah. I see. So, what do you desire?"

"If you play it right, we'll work together."

Porter then has a second thought. He can't possibly appeal to this person's brains. He shrugs his shoulders and decides to improvise.

"Look, you're going to find a water gun in a locker...hello?"

"Oops! Sorry. I was... looking around..."

"Huh? Power to the Arena's down by 30%. You do that? Not bad. You're still gonna need the gun, but... that oughta help."

Sole finally found the water gun after numerous clues. Porter began to question if his strategy was really that good...

MacCready : Hancock ushers a newcomer into the VIP room. Poor timing. Those idiots Winlock and Barnes have tracked him down and are attempting to intimidate him. It's going to get ugly fast...

"Wow, this is a true family reunion! Wow, you've got a lot of guns!"

MacCready was still astonished after Hancock struck his forehead. Giggles escaped the gunners. Mac rushes to return them to their home.

"Are you the mercenary I can employ?" It's Hancock, he stated I need God's help and don't know who I can afford to stay alive."

Mac casts a glance at the mayor, who shrugs and walks out of the room, unable to keep back his laughter.

"Yeah, I do offer my rifle services to those who can afford them."

"Oh, yes, caps!"

The new person slings a bag over their shoulder, but in a clumsy action, all of the contents and the container fall to the ground. They see something under the table as they bend down to pick up their mess.

They reach out their hand and pull out a plasma grenade. MacCready rushes to take the toy from their grasp as they prepare to engage it accidently.

"Obviously, you're going to need all the help you can get to survive, but if you really want to pay for my services, it'll be...500 caps."

Sole takes out a purse containing their belongings.

"There must be at least five or six hundred. It's difficult to count that many. Okay, maybe ten or twenty capsules. But more than a hundred? You're insane; I don't have all day."

Perplexed, the mercenary scratches the back of his head and sighs. He didn't expect the new would accept such a high price, so he's not going to start recounting behind them. There are clearly several hundred caps by weight.

"Well, you've just paid for Robert Joseph MacCready's services!" he attempts cheerfully.

"Great!" exclaims the other. "I'm Sole. That's how they refer to me."

Nick Valentine : After only a few minutes, he begins to question if it might not be preferable to remain trapped in the vault. Dyno died literally laughing. He fell over the railing and into the atrium at the bottom after seeing the other get entangled in wires while attempting to draw their rifle. Nick has been waiting impatiently for the other to figure out how the terminal works since then.

"Listen, uh... detective, I'll be right back."

Nick hears the other one come down the stairs, then return after a long time. Dyno appears to have had a piece of paper with the password in his pocket, and Sole can finally open the cage, which is not gilded at all.

"Ah, my knight-in-shining-armor. But the question is, why does he come all this way, risk life and limb, for an old private eye?"

"Who! Is that a robot? I'm sorry, Mr. Robot, but I'm searching for a detective. Did you happen to see him?"

"I believe I'm the detective you're looking for."

"No, I mean a private investigator. I was told he went to look into Malone's side of the vault and that we haven't heard from him since."

"I am the private detective."

"Nick Valentine! That's his given name. Nick Valentine, I recall."

"I AM NICK VALENTINE."

"Okay. Is this some sort of a game? You've been programmed to deceive others? What happened to Nick Valentine?"

Nick takes a deep breath.

"I’m a synthetic man. I’m a synthetic detective."

"You’re a synthesiser? So, you're a musician? Wow. When the detective’s going to figure it out... But I don't have time to listen to music; I need to save the detective."

"Lord…"

Piper : "Play along!"

"Are you playing a game? Great!"

Piper casts a sidelong peek at the new one, but she's not going to pass up this opportunity. She eventually persuaded Danny to open it up to her with a lot of luck. However, the person in blue almost blew it. She rushes into Diamond City as soon as the gate opens, and the new follows her, but she will worry about them later, as MacDonough awaits her around the corner.

"Piper! Who you let you back inside? I told Sullivan to keep that gate shut!"

"Hey!" interrupts the newcomer right away. "How could Quincy's surplus have been sold to...crazy Mirna... if you had left this gate closed?"

«It was a lie to go home," Piper says as she passes past.

"Do you mean I'm not a Quincy trader? Oh, how I would have liked that."

The mayor, by some miracle, appears to believe that the newcomer is important and ends up leaving them alone, tail between their legs, after the other voices two or three well-placed remarks. Piper is impressed, because in fact, they appear to have only two cells, one to keep them from peeing everywhere and the other to...

"So, Blue, do you want to tell me a little bit about your backstory?"

"Blue? Why do you call me Blue?"

"The vaultsuit."

"Oh, yes, it's true that it's blue."

Piper lets out a sigh. She hasn't even left the inn yet.

"Please join me at the Publick Occurency (if you can find it) and we can talk. Okay?"

The new one says, "Agreed." Piper rushes away, wondering who she has just met, when she catches the smile of a guard she does not remember.

Preston : Oh my fucking goodness! Preston isn't the sort to curse, but as half the museum collapses on the gunners and deathclaw, the notion flashes through his mind as vividly as if he'd said it aloud. He, on the other hand, cannot believe their good fortune. It's amazing! To accomplish such a feat, this individual must be a genius. But as he watches them emerge from the rubble, he begins to wonder if...

"Wow, that's impressive. But a couple of shots could have done the same thing without... destroying everything."

The blue person simply steps over the balcony and approaches Preston.

"Hello there! What exactly are you doing here? Isn't this a really depressing place to be?"

Preston looks at the refugees before returning his gaze to the vaultie.

"The raiders threatened us, so we took refuge here. But now that we've done that, we must decide what to do next. Sturges?"

Preston notices that Sturges is entirely frozen in place, detailing the new one as if it appeared out of nowhere.

"They did... they destroyed the museum!"

"Yes, Sturges. I was present. But, at the very least, the city has been cleaned up. We can proceed safely."

"Safe? With…that?!"

"That's referred to as Sole. Pleased. You are?"

"The survivors of Quincy."

"And we'd like to be able to survive," Sturges continued. "There will be no more williboumbatpouf! Okay?"

So, the survivors of Quincy and Sole set out for the location seen by Mama Murphy: Sanctuary Hill. When they arrive in one piece, Preston has the brilliant idea of inviting Sole to assist Sturges in establishing them. And that results in a lot… a lot of problems. 

Strong : Strong doesn’t see the problem. Strong finds the puny humans very lucky. Other humans seem to think the puny human is stupid. Strong think the puny humans is very smart.

X6-88 : He cannot conceive of this individual being able to conceive Father. Probably the other parent was a genius outside of their field, and Father got the best of both worlds. There is literally no other option. And their chance! Surely, wherever they go, this extraordinary chance rescues them from the direst situations.

"Wow, X6! I stumbled onto a honey storage tank. It's incredible!"

X6 heaves a murmur of exasperation as he leans over the edge of the rusted tank, whose metal has yielded under Sole's weight. It is indeed honey that has been partially solidified but is still viable.

Truly an incredible chance.

[zkellru]

Heikazu but Tokyo Ghoul??? Dont mind if i do

Kazuha - Ghoul, lives on the run and generally doesnt stay in one place for too long. His friend (tomo) was also a ghoul killed by investigators, and since then kazuha has been much more secluded and tries to avoid suspicion. But he ends up meeting a certain someone oh boy

Heizou - Ghoul investigator, likes to work alone (he used to have a partner in Sango but they went seperate ways). Viewing himself as evils natural enemy and ghouls as inherently evil, he has no remorse in exterminating ghouls. Nothing like a night of killing man eating monsters then having lunch the next day with ur very normal human friend Kazuha! Who is not suspicious at all totally ♡

Theres more in my brain but its almost 12am so uhh thats it for now methinks

[thefallenangelsgang]

Ayo! Time for a new intro post methinks (:

Sup bitches B)

I usually go by Jericho in online spaces

They/Them She/Her He/Him Pronouns and mmmmm boobs <3

(This is me deflecting the fact that my Queerness is extremely undefined. I know I am generally Ace, Genderqueer, and that my type would largely considered plus sized feminine bodies. Also dykes. I am a hot mess okay)

Its also impossible for transphobes to misgender me #diversitywin

(Speaking of Transphobes: IF YOU ARE A BIGOT REMEMBER THIS)

I am a History Major, Theater Minor fuckwit with interest in Ancient Civ and America's Founding.

I am most insufferable in my writing of:

-Academic style essays on incredibly niche subjects like Why Ghouls Look Different Across the Fallout Games, Marius: An Analysis on Chivalry and Chastity, and Absolute Power: The Rite of Profane Ascension and Corruption in BG3

-Marketing Takes I am under qualified for like My Analysis of the Watcher Announcement

-Baldur's Gate x Mamma Mia AUs no one asked for lmao

SOMETIMES I STREAM (mostly Fallout, Metro, The Sims, or whatever I'm feeling)

Topics I tend to talk about:

Dystopian Fiction

-Fallout (I am vocal of my disdain for the direction the franchise is going)

-Metro 2033

-The Hunger Games

-Occasionally "classics" like Animal Farm and 1984

Fantasy Fiction

-Baldur's Gate 3

-Anything Tolkien (but not the Amazon show. I very obviously have an ick for Amazon)

-DnD in general

-Legends of Avantris (A DnD group I am a major fan of)

(Fair warning, I am not a big fan of Critical Role or Dimension 20. I tried them out but I dislike the very corporate aesthetic. My favorite groups have always been best friends playing around their dining table.)

Fanfiction and Writing (#Jericho Writes)

-I read any of the media above really

-I write LoA, Fallout, Hunger Games, and Baldur's Gate Fanfiction.

Misc

-Acting and the Entertainment Industry

(Film and Video Game specifically)

-Mental Health shit

(I've got OCD, ADHD, and PTSD and the Depression and Anxiety that comes with it.)

-Activism

(I try to keep up with most current events on here. It would be fair to accuse me of having a new cause every news cycle. But this account is largely performative information sharing, I follow up with causes that resonate with me privately. Topics I almost always post about are Disability, Reproductive, and Queer rights. I am not interested in Bad Faith debates about any subject I post about. This is your warning to leave if you expect to take issue with this.)

-Just general Queer shit

(If you are going to be Acephobic, Transphobic, or weird about people with non traditional identities you should very much leave.)

Godspeed, Good Luck, Gangnam Style

And all that ✨Jazz✨

[a-little-bit-of-leafeon]

"Well, well, welly-well, well. Look at who hast made it this far! Welcome to the Grey Domain, my friend. I, Looney the Grey Guardian, am very proud of you for making it this far. You have made it past Fury and her Hellhounds, Louie and his army of goons, Chatterbox and her demented game show, Ivy and her haunted forest, Sharky and her mind-controlled spirits, Widow and her army of ghouls, Flamingo and their eldritch form and now we're here... Now, methinks that you are quite scared of my dragons but fret not, They do not bite. But be warned, this clash gets quite explosive! Now let us make like time, and do an eternal dance called war!"

Drew Looney bc he's a demented, medieval, clown boy and I love it. @jeweledstone

[have-a-hiddles]

Then why is he scared of them? Not like they're going to gum him to death. LOL!

Silly rat man, I'll have to go tease him (very gently) about that later.

Thanks for letting me visit the other day!

Ezra just seems so over it all already! Like he's been here before and is vaguely disappointed that he's back again. He's gonna be the voice of reason among these three, methinks.

Pretty sure Aria still has a chunk of my hair in her little fist. If you find suspicious ginger hair about, that would be mine. Fierce indeed! If looks could kill, everyone but you and Omega would be toast.

Isabella is just the sweetest little cuddlebug ever! And she's ridiculously pretty. All three are beautiful, of course, but she's got something extra going on. An additional shot of sweetness to her "sugar and spice".

All three are so precious, I very nearly grabbed the nearest brother/ghoul for, uh, reproductive fun? Luckily for me and the world at large, that's not gonna happen no matter how diligently I might *ahem* apply myself. (Considering my late father's habit of siring kids all over the place, I don't think the world will be missing my red hair/blue eyes genes. I am lucky number THIRTEEN of his kids. That we know of.) I am perfectly happy indulging other people's kids.

So which of your brothers is going to be the "load them up on sugar and then send them home" uncle? My money's on Copia, although I can see Secondo doing that just to annoy you.

How has Copia's interactions with the kits been?

He keeps getting bitten. He's scared of them.

[homesweetgoodneighbor]

Okay, so random ghoul headcanon:

The anon who HC'd that ghouls purr made think about their voices. But, while I ran with the idea that ghouls can purr, it's not a part of my HC; however, I love their voices.

I feel like for all the awful shit they had to deal with becoming ghouls, they leveled up in the voice department.

Now, there is nothing to say that ghouls don't have their own songs. There is bound to be an old ghoul who was once a Blues artist before the war. I think he or she would absolutely adapt their voice and write some deep down Blues songs.

And, from that will come other genres.

Like sea shanties.

LOOK, I WANT GHOUL SEA SHANTIES AND BLUES SONGS AND EVEN GRUNGE MUSIC. I want them to hum deep in their throats and be like Mongolian throat singing. Hell, they would rock some death metal.

But, considering the game seems to be stuck in the 50s, Rhythm and Blues would be their genre of choice, methinks. Or even choral music.

Music is fluid and there is nothing to say ghouls wouldn't have their own version of punk or goth or bubble gum rock.

I think Bugthesda really denied us when it came to music.

[jchnmcdonough]

Hello yes I need your soul-crushing John post-ghoul takes please and thank you. I also feel like he would have been like "I don't deserve to be one of them" too like he hates himself so so much and rewrites his entire self. No wo der he hates Deacon so much. Hancock rewrites himself and still struggles with hating who he was and has become while Deacon is able to flit effortlessly (at least to John) through various personas without losing his sense of self

mhn yes ive been sitting on this ask a while for two reasons. 1) bc i've been goin thru a lack of inspo, but mainly 2) i've realized there just wasn't enough....je ne sais quoi. HOWEVER, flipping thru endless ideas in my head (along with restarting my fic two three times because i could not decide on what character to start the story off with) i finally settled on something that i've been playing with for a while, but apprehensive to put onto paper.

which is making every character incredibly dark; dare i say, disturbed in some way. i wont bore with the details since im rambling but i love fucked characters, i cannot contain it.

anyway............

on to the topic at hand.

"I don't deserve to be one of them"

yes. john is a true melodramatic but has gotten better at hiding it as he's gotten older/learned to accept what's happened (and his position as a public figure forces him to regardless of wanting to or not).

becoming a ghoul wasn't the exact plan he had in mind while injecting the experimental drug and for a while he struggled between feeling guilty -- how could he become one with a group of people who've endured and were failed by him? and resentment. at himself, his appearance, the people who pretend john mcdonough never existed.

ending up at the slog was def a blessing for john because it forced him back into reality. wiseman was good at dealing with the rage and holly was good at soothing the tears.

Hancock rewrites himself and still struggles with hating who he was and has become

i've always felt hancock and john were two separate entities that ended up meshing together once john started rebuilding GN. hancock has the confidence and swagger that john couldn't find pre-ghoulification. hancock allows john to unforgiving, calculated, and charismatic. from playing marbles with children in the street, to slitting the throat of drifter caught assaulting a woman.

john mcdonough envies hancock because he’s everything john never got the chance to be. that’s where the self loathing comes from methinks. he’s carefully crafted a character that he finds comfort in, but it’s at the cost of losing himself. that’s why he’ll disappear for days on end or keep to his private quarters, let fahr handle business. as the months go by john finds it harder to detach from hancock and those moments of seclusion are spent forcing himself to remember who he is.

Deacon is able to flit effortlessly (at least to John) through various personas without losing his sense of self

deacon has natural confidence, for sure. i believe identity isn’t an issue deacon worries about because he doesn’t attach himself to one life. he enjoys being a chameleon because he’s good at it and it allows him to blend into various crowds without raising any brows. there’s no risk. if someone sees through him or he grows bored, he simply creates a new one. 

though i’ve chalked up most of john’s dislike toward deacon being that he finds him extremely annoying/a thorn in his side since he’s des’ lapdog

[therevengeoffrankenstein]

top 5 peter cushing movies or roles

I have two different sets of answers because good cush performance =/= good movie.

Top 5 Favorite Movies Peter Cushing Was In:

1. Cash On Demand (1961)

Heist thriller but it's A Christmas Carol. This movie makes me lose my shit!!! Must a movie be 'deep'? Is it not enough that a thriller actually set me on edge?

2. Star Wars: A New Hope (1977)

Yeah.

3. The Curse of Frankenstein (1957)

For what it lacks in book accuracy, it makes up for in pure, undiluted Hammer goodness. Boobs!!! Blood!!! Vibrant color!!! Homoeroticism!!! Fabulous costumes!!! Ugh.

4. The Brides of Dracula (1960)

Best viewed with a critical eye but Gotdamn is it good.

Also, I would like to give Van Helsing a kiss.

5. Captain Clegg (1962)

Swashbuckling smuggler tale!!! Cushing acting like a bastard!!! I watched this movie six times in one week!!! It's just a bucket of fun and I like it more very time I rewatch it.

Honorable mentions: Fear in the Night (1972), Madhouse (1974), Horror of Dracula (1958), Dracula AD 1972 (1972), The Revenge of Frankenstein (1958), Nineteen Eighty-Four (1954), Horror Express (1972), House of the Long Shadows (1983) (because fuck you it's a fun movie)

-

Top Five Favorite Peter Cushing Performances:

1. Wilhuff Tarkin (Star Wars: A New Hope (1977))

Love of my life,,,,,

Also 1. Victor Frankenstein (Hammer Frankenstein series, 1957-1974)

Bastard.

Cushing nails abrupt mood shifts, and Hammer Frankenstein is full of em. Victor is cold, calculating, ambitious, morally gray (most of the time?), and charismatic as Fuck. One moment a brooding antihero, the next a heartless villain. He pulls it off, hun. And looks fabulous all the while (even when he's a disheveled mess mwah).

(my personal favorite of his performances in the series are Curse, Revenge, Created Woman, and Must Be Destroyed to be more specific lol.)

2. The Van Helsings (Yes All Of Them) (Hammer Dracula, 1958-1974)

I can have a tragic little gentle man. As a treat.

(Brides, Horror, and AD 1972 are him at his best, methinks)

3. Harry Fordyce (Cash on Demand (1961))

Harry Fordyce my beloved.

Nerdy lil bank manager is tormented for nearly an hour and Cush tries his darndest. All the little mannerisms and reactions he does!!! I can't!!! He is Selling it!!! I am genuinely upset by everything that happens to him!!! Fuck.

4. Sherlock Holmes (The Hound of the Baskervilles (1959))

Sherlock my beloved.

Cushing was Excellent with props and emoting, and this is a prime example. He's just hopping around being a sassy lil bitch <3. He's so much fun in this movie dfdtdgfgf

5. Christopher Maitland (The Skull (1965))

The movie itself is kinda blah but Peter's performance is so good??? He made this movie worth watching tbh. The palatable fear!!! I was worried for this man anytime he was in remote danger!!! The dream sequence makes me lose my shit!!! Fuck!!!

He's so genuine in everything he did and took acting so seriously. He never condescended to the audience and fuck!!!! It shows!!! He's so good. I love him ugh.

Honorable Mentions: Tales From the Crypt (1972), The Ghoul (1975), Nineteen Eighty-Four (1954), The House That Dripped Blood (1971), The Flesh and the Fiends (1960)

[queenofbaws]

UD/MoM: Of Mummy Men & Bathtub Soup - 4

Chapter: 4/? Chapter title: (Spooky scary) skeletons in the closet Fic rating: T - Language, blood, light comedic body horror Chapter summary: Conrad says WAY too much. Author’s note: Reminder - this is also on AO3, where the texting actually looks like, uh…texting! Previous | Next ---

“You did.”

“I did not.”

“You absolutely did, and the more you say you didn’t, the more I’m convinced that you did!”

Drumming his fingers against the unpleasantly sticky surface of the apartment’s coffee table, Conrad exhaled an exhausted breath through his nose. “I’m a grown-ass adult who is perfectly aware of his bodily functions and I am telling you asshats that I know for a fact I did not piss myself.”

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much…” Hartley snickered, reaching over to meet Wash’s hand in a high-five.

Thirty minutes. He’d been in their grimy apartment for thirty fucking minutes and this had been the sum total of conversation: Ha ha ha, hee hee hee, isn’t it so funny how we almost gave Conrad a heart attack back at the house? We’re so whimsical and funny and smart, ho ho ho, har-de-har-har-har. Even Ash had gotten in on it, though Sam at least seemed to have enough decency inside of her to keep from outright jeering at him.

Didn’t have enough of that decency to, y’know, say ‘No guys, I won’t be part of this super stupid prank,’ but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

The details of their stupid goof weren’t important. They’d kept searching the basement. It’d been dark. Ash had ‘gotten sick.’ He’d been a good fucking person and gone to check on her—like good people do!—and what had he gotten in return? Well, he’d gotten the fuck (but not the piss!) scared out of him.

To his credit, he absolutely would’ve noticed something was off if he hadn’t been so distracted by the fact that the gang’s matching hoodies had the word ‘CREPES’ printed on them for some reason. If he hadn’t been trying to puzzle that one out, there was no question in his mind he would’ve noticed that Ash was acting suspicious or that there were lumps under the cuffs of her sleeves or something like that. As it was, though, he’d been trying to figure out why the fuck the CREEPS ghost hunting team had matching sweatshirts that said CREPES instead, so no. No, he hadn’t been expecting it when she’d lunged at him with her stupid white-out contacts and all that fake blood Wash was always carting around in the back of his car like some sort of discount dollar store Patrick Bateman.

Assholes. Oh, they thought it was the funniest thing that had ever happened in the history of the world. It had been days! Days! And they were still laughing!

He’d come here to watch the episode they’d put together and to okay the segments he was in—he had not come here to have a bunch of idiots without enough charisma between them to fill a teaspoon point and giggle at him. Of course, that hadn’t turned out a whole lot better because, see, these boneheads thought they were real funny; they’d turned his episode (the one they’d insisted on titling ‘MUMMY MANSION – EXPOSED!!!’) into the one offering on their stupid YouTube channel where everything was—surprise!—easily explained away by science and/or common sense. Not ghosts. Or ghouls. Or mummies. Or…shit, what else was there? Vampires? Goblins?

He was seriously beginning to doubt that working with these fuckers would be worth spooking Alex and Julia after all.

“Okay,” he groaned when the bullying became too much for his itty-bitty feelings to handle and a change of subject felt just as necessary as his next breath, “Serious question time, if you lugs are done busting my chops.” He adjusted his position on the couch, leaning in closer to the center of their group, “Have you guys ever seen anything that could possibly be real? Shit you couldn’t explain?”

Sam was the first to bow out of the conversation. “Don’t look at me, I’m the newbie here. I haven’t gone looking for anything creepy or crawly until I joined up.”

“Fair enough. Dorks?” He turned his gaze towards the other three, less than surprised when they all sort of grimaced.

“Uh…n…no. No, I don’t think so?”

“Hey, that’s not true! What about that Polaroid from Cochise’s aunt’s house? That shit was pretty convincing…”

“Dude. For the millionth time, that was a fucking moth.”

“Oh please. That was a top quality orb, my doubtful friend. Legit ghost material.”

“It was a moth.”

“Orb.”

“It had eyes!”

“Haunting, ghostly eyes. Stared right into my very soul. Laid my whole person bare. The pure sense of knowing in those eyes…the hatred in that stare…”

“It had wings and antennas!”

“Antennae.”

“Thanks, Ash. No one would’ve understood what I meant otherwise.”

He was used to their shtick by that point, so he just let them go, leaving them free to act out their little Three Stooges act to their hearts’ content. Really, he knew there wasn’t much on Earth that could stop them once they got started anyway…it was better to keep your hands and feet inside the ride at all times when dealing with Wash and his horror harem, honestly, and he was in too good a mood today to risk getting one of his fingers caught in the gears of that particular merry-go-round. Way too good a mood.

He did have a date tonight, after all.

“Ghost moth,” he said with a nod, “Cool. Super spooky. Y’know, if you guys really wanted to scare your audience, not sure why you stopped with the whole comedy thing…shit sure gave me nightmares.”

Oooh, that one must’ve hit close to home, because Hartley actually turned around in his little swivel chair and looked away from his computer for the first time since Conrad had knocked on their door. “For your information,” he began, “We were hilarious. I-i-it’s not our fault Vine went defunct, that was all on—”

There was a snort from Ash’s side of the couch, and uh oh, trouble in paradise, Hartley’s attention shifted to her instead. “What? I mean…he’s right,” she said, a wicked curve to her lips. “Seriously though, the cooking stuff was wayyy scarier. Like geez Louise, did you guys pay attention in Home Ec even once?”

“The answer to that one’s gonna be a resounding, uh, no.”

Rolling his eyes and holding his hands up as though to defend himself from this bloodthirsty onslaught of (totally fair) criticism, Wash pointed out, “Hey, never once have I had a reason to know how to cook, okay?”

“Uuuntil the cooking show,” Ash interrupted.

“Until the cooking show,” he ceded. “If you hadn’t noticed, I’m an artistic, talented, wealthy individual with a solid metabolism and very generous genetics. I can afford to eat all of my meals fresh out of the microwave, thank you very much. Now Cochise, on the other hand—”

“Fuck you too, dude.” And aw man, was that an actual crack in his voice? Precious. So precious. Getting a rise out of Hartley was the easiest goddamn thing in the world—all you had to do was say anything, literally anything, halfway witty with Ash in the same room. Guy was twice as transparent as any ghost they’d ever claimed to come across.

…speaking of ghosts…

Conrad leaned back on the couch, not exactly thrilled at the strange lump poking him just underneath his left shoulder blade, and nodded towards Wash. “You fucks were too busy doing your whole Friday the 13th bullshit to really explain when I asked the other night, so pardon me for belaboring the point, but uh…what’s up with the breakfast club hoodies, huh?”

Washington plucked at the front of his own, looking down into the face of the dorky ghost on his chest, its comical nerd glasses cracked as though it had been beaten up by a bigger, stronger, less blobby phantasm. Then, eyebrows slowly rising the lower his eyes went, he reached the lettering. “Yeahhh…Cochise screwed the pooch on that one.”

“So what else is new?”

“Hey. Watch it, Connie.” There was a warning note in Ash’s voice, and why wouldn’t there be? She was just as easy to mess with—poke fun at Hartley one time too many and pow! God, he wondered if they realized they were so obvious. He doubted it. Highly. Sincerely. Ash and Hartley were two of the stupidest smart people he’d ever met in his life, and that was a stone-cold fact. The world was likely to enter a second ice age before either one of them made anything even resembling a move.

“Why don’t you get new ones, then?” he asked, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, something about the whole misspelling thing is def fairly representative of your group as a whole, but…”

Clearly rubbed raw over his typo, Hartley rolled his eyes and groaned, “Stop acting so high and mighty, Connie, it—”

Oh, good mood or not, that would never fucking do. “Dude, for the last time, don’t call me Connie.”

“Everyone calls you Connie! I just want in on that action.”

“Ohoho, no everyone does not.” He hunkered down to show them how dead serious he was about the whole thing (and he was, in fact, quite fucking serious), explaining in the careful tone of a kindergarten teacher telling a four-year-old about the dangers of sticking craft scissors in their nose, “‘Connie’ is exclusively for family and the ladies. Ladies such as our lovely, lovely Miss Brown, here.” He swept an arm out towards Ash, who promptly made a noise of disbelief…but unless he was wrong (he wasn’t), who also might’ve also gone a bit pinker in the cheeks and ears.

Wash leveled his stare at him. “Am I not a pretty enough lady for you? You are unbelievable, man. You come into my home, insult my feminine wiles…”

“You’re not a pretty enough anything for me, Washington.”

“This is why no one likes you, Bishop.”

“Uh, pretty sure your mom does. Pretty sure she likes me a whole lot, in fact.” Well, now this was a well-travelled path, wasn’t it? (Much like Wash’s mom.) Grinning, he leaned in again, preparing an all-out, full-frontal ‘Your Mom’ assault, when Hartley interrupted him.

“Heyheyhey, not to press the pause button on this meeting of the minds, but…let’s do this scientifically. Can I call you Connie?”

He bared his teeth in what wasn’t a grimace but wasn’t exactly a smile, either. “Only if I can call you Cochise.”

Ah, that seemed to drive the point home. Hartley’s mouth flattened into a line. “Okay, so that’s a hard no. Can Ash?”

“Yeah. I literally…” Conrad sighed, dramatically dropping his head into one of his hands. “I just said that. Keep up, Cochise.”

“I said no. How about Michelle Obama?”

This was why he didn’t hang out with these assholes more than once in a blue moon. This right here. He watched Hartley for a grip, blinking a single, tired blink when he saw there was no escaping the upcoming list. “I mean, sure? If she wants to. I wouldn’t turn her down.”

“Nic Cage?”

“No.”

“Wow, okay, rude, I’m sure you’ll be hearing from his people about that. The man is a national treasure. What about Josh?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely not.”

“Interesting! And Sam?”

“I—” He’d been too distracted by the others’ idiocy to really pay much attention to what Sam had been doing up until that point, but at Hartley’s mention, he found himself compelled to look her way. It was then, looking at her profile as she flipped through her notebook, that he realized with a fair amount of surprise that the answer that had immediately popped into his mind had been ‘no.’ “I mean…”

She perked up at the sound of her own name, eyebrows first arching upwards and then knitting. “Oh, uh. Should I be insulted?”

“No—no. You could call me Connie if the spirit moved you,” he said slowly, tilting his head this way and that, an itch tickling the grey matter at the very back of his brain. It was like there was something he was missing and it was on the very tip of his tongue…

“Uh, thanks.”

“Nice, man. Real nice. You come into my home, you insult Sammy’s feminine wiles…”

“No, I…it’s nothing personal, you just…” And then it clicked. Oh, holy shit did it click.

“What?” Wash taunted. “Say it.”

Without turning to him, Conrad flipped him the bird. Now that it had occurred to him, saying it out loud felt stupid, like running into your parents’ room to tell them how terrifying your nightmare had been only to realize, oh whoops, maybe there wasn’t actually anything inherently scary about being in an aquarium where the all the water and fish were purple. Then again, he needed to remember he was talking to a bunch of people who willingly told the internet at large that they poked around abandoned McDonald’s PlayPlaces to find ghosts, so like.

They could probably deal.

“You look just enough like my sister that it would be weird. Like, you don’t look exactly like her, but it’s really, really close, and—” Something else occurred to him then. This was a primo opportunity to get the creepy crawlies back on track! Forgetting Sam entirely, he whirled around to Wash, grinning that innocent down-home grin that showed his dimples so well. “Hey! So, speaking of my sister…do you remember the terms of our little arrangement?”

If he was moved by the dimples, Wash didn’t let on. “Uh, yeah. You took us to a dingy, late-80’s split-level with no ghosts and lots of dust, and in return, you got to pretend like you had friends for a night.”

“Ooh, burn!”

Conrad ignored Hartley entirely, sticking an accusatory finger in Wash’s face as he got up from the couch to more efficiently round on him. There was no way he was going to let this weasely weasel weasel out of their deal…sel. “And! And you said you’d scare someone for me.”

“Pretty sure we did that too.” With a wave of his hand, Wash had Hartley play (and replay…and replay again) the part of their exploration through the mansion where, wow, how hilarious, Ash had scared the fuck out of him. He was still fairly convinced they’d edited the video in some way to make his voice sound shriller than it actually was, but he knew damn well neither of them would ever admit to it.

“Ha ha. Funny. Real funny. You guys are a real Abbott and Costello, huh? Look, if you’re gonna be a little shit and renege on our deal…”

“Oh blah blah blah…would you quit yapping and get to the point already, man?”

He clapped once, rubbing his hands together in what was most certainly a very business-like manner and not at all reminiscent of a cartoon villain preparing to tie someone to the railroad tracks. “Okay, okay, so. The chump in question is JJ’s boyfriend. Just need to get a good scare in to fuck with his bullshit macho act—”

“Wait, Alex?”

For a second there, his brain cramped up. Something about hearing Alex’s name out of Hartley’s mouth just hit pause on the whole shebang. “How did y…oh shit, right, you’re friends with Brad, aren’t you?” Shit. Oh shit. If they mentioned any of this to Brad, he was SOL. “Ugh! God—don’t you bring him in on this! I think we all know Bradical’s a man of many talents, but subterfuge? Not one of ‘em.” Which was being kind, really. Exceptionally kind. The kinda kind only doddering old grandmothers could usually achieve.

Thankfully, he found no resistance from the peanut gallery. “Yeah, no.”

“Bless his little heart, he tries.”

“Does he?”

Meanwhile, Wash’s posture had changed in a small, subtle way, his head inclined at an angle that years of experience had taught him meant he was listening especially carefully. He sniffed disinterestedly, which again suggested that he was, in fact, extremely interested. “What, precisely, did the elder Smith do to get in your bad book? Never pegged you as the protective sort, Conman.”

He blew a raspberry that tapered off into a snicker. “Protective? Nah, not me. This is just, uh…” Ah, but here was…a crossroads.

The less these fuckers knew about his actual intentions, the better. He’d seen how they handled themselves, and he was not about to get himself into some sort of shitty Monkey’s Paw situation where he got them to agree to this prank only for them to fuck him over in the end. Like, say, how they’d managed to fuck him over with the stupid Mummy Mansion episode. Nuh-uh, no way. Not in this lifetime. Wash would find out about the inevitable wedding when his parents made their bi-annual call to check in on him and mentioned something about ‘that sweet Bishop girl getting married.’ No sooner. So help him God.

“Initiation! What are we older brothers good for, if not putting the fear of God into baby sis’s prospective datemates, right? I mean,” he chuckled, nudging Josh with his elbow, “You know what that’s like. It’s our job!”

It came to him a moment too late that, uh.

Fuck.

Wash’s sisters weren’t exactly in need of protecting anymore, were they?

Mmm.

Yikes.

Whoops.

Wash’s smile tightened. “I’ll fucking think about it.”

Conrad pretended not to realize this was a grade-A foot-in-mouth situation, doubling down in hopes that it would get them out of the conversation that much faster. “Think about it? You promised!”

“Yeah, and you promised us a mummy man, so…”

“I did not promise you a mummy. I said—”

“Ah, and now you’re gonna make up a whole new load of crap and try to sell me on it, huh? Not how it works.”

“I’m not making anything up!” He kept the indignation in his voice, but phew was he glad they’d waltzed their way out of Dead Sibling Station.

“Oh bull-fucking-shit, dude, you’re—”

“All I did was tell you what my mom told me, okay? I can’t control the information that’s passed on to me—I can only convey it to you…”

“Christ alive…”

“…in a manner that’s both truthful and entertaining! I didn’t say we’d find a mummy, I said someone else did! Once. A while ago. But—but!” Oh thank God for his dad’s big fucking mouth, and thank God he’d been attentive enough that night at dinner to get a workable story out of it, “That wasn’t the only story she got from the previous homeowners!” Oho, that got ‘em. The girls might not’ve cared, but Wash and Hartley were both watching him expectantly.

Fantastic. He had…such a story ready for them. “For real,” he continued, “Get this: The guy who owned the place before the most recent couple? He died in there!”

“Uh huh.”

“In the shower! He didn’t have any family or anything, so it took the mail people noticing that his mailbox was crammed full to go ‘Huh, wonder where this sad sap is.’ So they called in a welfare check, the cops came, and they found this guy in the bathroom, dead in the tub, with the shower still running! It’d been going the whole fucking time! They said by the time they found him…” He paused for dramatic effect, eyes flicking from Wash to Hartley and back again, “…they couldn’t tell the difference between him and the shower!”

“They…wait. Wh…what does…Conrad. What in the fuck could that possibly mean?!”

“It means—”

“D-d-did he fucking become a shower? Is that the scary part of this story?”

“No, asshole! His skin like—”

“Became porcelain tile?! I’m pretty sure I could tell the difference between a spongy-ass skeleton corpse and a shower!”

How were they not getting this?! This was the grossest story of the century! Why were they just looking at him like that, like he was some kind of loony rambling about the moon being hollow?! This was a serious tale from the crypt! A yuck-fest the likes of which no human had ever heard before! “You obtuse morons are missing the point!”

Fingers rubbing slow circles into his temples, Washington craned his head back until he was staring at the ceiling’s recessed lighting. “The point,” he repeated, “What would the point be, exactly? That through the alchemy of simple city tap water, a man in the house we found nothing—repeat: nothing—in was transmogrified into grout-proof ceramic?”

He was going to murder them. Both of them. Fuck strangling, he was just going to bash their heads together until they were nothing but pulp. “Don’t you do this,” he said, shaking his head with something like betrayal, “Don’t you dare pretend like this isn’t the sickest shit you’ve ever heard.”

“It’s not, though,” Wash said slowly.

“I-i-it doesn’t make sense,” Hartley agreed.

“How does it not make sense?! His body was eroded away until it was unrecognizable, and—”

“You can tell bones from a shower!”

He raised his hands, flexed his fingers, balled them into fists, flexed them again, dropped them to his sides with a groan that bordered on a scream. “He fucking disintegrated! The man became soup! Why don’t you get that?! The motherfucker became a goddamn stew!”

“Not possible. Absolutely not possible. I don’t claim to be a whiz at biology or anything, but—”

“Why is this an argument?” Hartley stood from his chair, shaking his head. “This is…this…fuck this! Fuck this and fuck you. Look.” He jerked his hand towards the back of the apartment, and the three of them filed through one of the bedrooms to make it to the bathroom. The shower curtain’s hooks screamed bloody murder when the curtain itself was flung open, making him recoil. “You look into that tub. And you explain to me. How a human being. Could be that.”

As he looked down into the basin of the tub, it did stand to be said that he realized perhaps he had worded his claims a little, well, loosely. Unfortunately for everyone involved, Conrad Bishop might’ve been a man who could recognize when he’d been wrong, but he was not a man who admitted when he’d been wrong. So he joined Hartley in front of the tub, pointing just as furiously. “He kicked it in the tub. The water kept running. His body plugged the drain, so it just collected, and the water beat at him until it—”

“The worst,” Wash interrupted, butting in between the two of them to also stare down into the tub, “That could’ve possibly happened…is that he fuckin’ filled the thing with little jelly-bits of himself that kinda coagulated or whatever, but I don’t think when the first responders got there that their initial thought was ‘Aw shit. Look at that. Man’s a shower now. Damnedest thing.’”

“They—”

“It’s not even scary, that’s the thing! Like, you get that, right? You get that it’s not scary? Are you trying to say that like, there’s some kind of gooey flesh-colored Jell-O ghost in that house? Th-that, what, we should’ve gone in there and shot something like ‘Mummy Man and Bathtub Soup Guy: The Sitcom?!’”

“He’s a desiccated raisin…and he’s human-flavored oatmeal,” Wash interrupted, speaking with a tv narrator’s projection and panache, “What hijinx will they get up to? Find out next week.”

“Really not sure I appreciate the tone, fuckwits.” …fuck! He was doing it again! He was letting their bullshit infect him. “Y’know, I don’t need to stand here and defend myself—”

“Uh, you kinda do. You came in here talking about—”

“I just need you guys to fucking agree that you’re still going to help me scare the pants off of Alex. That’s it. That’s all I need. I thought maybe you’d find my tale of bone broth man charming and delightful, but clearly I can see that I was wrong—”

“Clearly.”

Reaching into the deepest depths of his heart, he found it within himself to ignore that snide aside instead of yoinking Hartley’s glasses off his face and playing keepaway. “So? Are we still square? You’re gonna give him the works, right? The works.”

The two of them traded a look he wasn’t really the biggest fan of, but eventually Wash rolled his eyes and heaved a long-suffering sigh through his nose. “Yeah, sure. Fine. We’ll figure something out.”

The relief that washed over him was immense.

“After break.”

His eyes flew open from his impromptu moment of bliss, opening his mouth before the numbers added up.

After break?

After break.

Well that was…fuck. He still hadn’t gone through Julia’s Facebook to check their stupid anniversary date, but…he was still feeling spring. It was probably spring…right? Spring was, after all, the most romantic of seasons, what with the flowers and the sunshine and all the animals doing the deed to make a bunch of baby animals, so…after break was…probably okay.

“Suuure…” Conrad said slowly, stretching the word out until it had something like five or six syllables. “I…yeah, sure, after break. Cool. I have some ideas, by the way, in case you guys—”

“You insist on leeching off the wild popularity of my internet show,” Wash started up again, ignoring Harley’s low ‘Our internet show’ as he squeezed his gangly-ass body between the two of them to worm his way out of the bathroom, staying a few steps ahead even as they followed him into the living room. “You give me nothing to work with. You try to tell me about the finer points of decomposition. And then you have the audacity—the gall—to suggest that your ideas for scaring people are better than mine. I don’t know what they taught you in all those manners classes your mom made you take back in junior high, but I have half a mind to tell her she should look into getting a refund.”

From the floor, a new voice offered its two cents: “Oh, absolutely. She should definitely put in a formal request.”

“Okay, first off, wow, that was entirely uncalled for, but secondly, I sure don’t remember inviting you into this conversation.”

Ash wasn’t much in the way of a smirker, but she gave it her best shot. Kind of precious, really. “You guys have been literally screaming about dead guys in bathtubs this whole time. I’d be shocked if the neighbors didn’t start knocking on the door to give their opinions.” She pulled her knees up to her chest as she leaned back against the front of the couch, and for a horrendous moment he was positive she was about to launch into her own explanation of how human bodies decayed in water…but that wasn’t exactly what happened. Ash opened her mouth to say something (probably the aforementioned scientific explanation), simultaneously nudging Sam with her shoulder, and something must’ve felt off about the whole thing because her smile wavered as she turned towards her and away from him and the guys.

It was then that he realized Goldilocks wasn’t looking so hot. Last he’d actually paid attention to her, she’d been going through her notebook with a pencil tucked into the loose knot of hair at the back of her head and a highlighter in her hand, but now? Now she looked…to put it frankly, Sam looked like she was about to blow chunks all over Wash’s carpeting.

“Is she, uh…oookay?” Conrad asked under his breath, unsure whether he should be anticipating (another) stupid jumpscare.

“Uh…”

“Sam? Hellooo…Ground Control to major Sam?” Wash pushed past him and walked the few steps to the couch, crouching down to wave a hand in front of her face. “You feelin’ okay there, Sammy?” he asked when she seemed to shake herself out of it.

While he still wasn’t totally convinced this wasn’t about to be another dumb prank getting pulled at his expense, Conrad felt himself begin to frown. Ash might’ve acted sick back at the house, but Sam looked ill—like legitimately ill—sort of grey in the face and lips, and that shit was hard to fake.

A sympathetic puker by nature, he readied himself to make a beeline for the door, should it come to that.

“I…yeah, yeah, sorry…” Sam mumbled, sounding just as out of it as she looked. Without explaining what sort of stick she’d jammed up her ass, she started shoving her things into her bag, paying absolutely zero attention to what was going where. He could hear papers getting crumpled. Not a great sign. “I just, uh…I think I’m coming down with something.”

“Oh nooo! Really?”

“Yeah, it’s…I’m gonna, um, head out, I think?”

He didn’t say as much, but that sounded like an excellent idea. He’d seen that look on people’s faces before—that was the look that came after ‘I can absolutely handle one more shot, guys, seriously!’—not the sort of thing one wanted to see on their houseguest’s face.

“You want a ride?” Wash asked, ever the gentleman, reaching over to help her up before she waved him away.

Sam stood, wobbling unsteadily on her feet, and shook her head way too quickly for someone who was knock-knock-knocking on Good Lady Pukington’s front door. “Nope, I could use the air. It’s fine.”

Welp, this felt like as organic a time as any…Conrad checked his watch and made the all the requisite sounds of disappointment when he saw the time. “I should be heading out too.” Again he paused for effect, taking a moment to actually straighten his shirt out a bit as he added, “Got a hot date tonight.”

The other three were still obviously concerned with Sam…and yet it didn’t stop them from getting in one last jab apiece.

“Doubtful,” Ash said flatly.

“Sounds fake, but okay,” Hartley added.

“Aw, you didn’t tell me your mom was coming over!” Wash said, rounding out the three of them. There wasn’t, however, the usual smarmy grin accompanying the insult; nah, he was too busy watching Blondie stagger her way towards the door.

Well, whatever. Weirdness followed those freaks like a shadow in a well-lit room. All he knew was he had places to be, and those were places he’d prefer to go without any sort of vomit on his person, so he was gonna go while the getting was good. One last halfhearted wave to the CREEPs and he was off!

Unfortunately, it seemed Sam was heading the same way. He couldn’t just…overtake her in the hallway (he wasn’t a monster), but man, he didn’t need to be dealing with this on top of everything else he’d just had to endure back at Mystery Inc. “Hey, seriously, you sure you’re gonna be okay to get back to your place?” he asked as he caught up to her, slowing his stride so they were going at the same pace.

No answer.

Great. He watched as she shakily started down the stairs and goddamn his proper upbringing—he couldn’t just leave her to handle that alone! Moving at a speed that would’ve made a snail look like Speed Racer, he made his way down the stairs one riser at a time, watching Sam’s expressionless face from the corner of his eye. “If you want me to like, call someone or go get one of the idiots back there I ca—”

“Hey, so…weird question for you.” She said it so suddenly that he nearly banged his elbow into the railing in surprise.

Well, talking was a good sign, wasn’t it? Sure it was. “Lucky for you, weird questions are sort of my specialty! Right after mixing highballs and bullshitting essays. Hit me.”

He’d made it to the bottom of the stairs but she hadn’t. He turned to see her still standing there on the second to last step, her face grey and her arms hugged tightly around herself. …maybe talking wasn’t as good a sign as he’d hoped.

“Earlier, you said something…uh…this is gonna sound real dumb if it’s nothing, so I’m just gonna ask it anyway.” Sam heaved a sigh, and even that seemed to wobble. “You said something to Josh about wanting to scare your sister’s boyfriend?”

“Well yeah, just as a joke, though!” His grin took a decidedly defensive kind of edge as he backpedaled. How much of his motivation was he going to have to explain to her about this? If word got back to Wash, there was no telling what sort of bullshittery he’d have to deal with. “Alex is cool and all, just kind of super, super uptight, and God help me, sometimes it’s li—”

“No, I—no. Literally, I don’t care about that.”

“Oh!” He laughed…then paused, watching her warily again. “Wait, what?” He felt like he was missing a very important piece of this puzzle.

“When you guys were talking about that, you said he ‘knows what it’s like?’”

He continued to stare at her. When her words simply trailed off, his confusion only deepened. “Uh…okay? Did I?”

“Were you saying, like…he knows what it’s like to…I thought Josh was an only child?”

“I mean, he is…well, now, anyway.” It didn’t occur to him that maybe that was the sort of thing you didn’t say aloud to a person you didn’t know all that well until she grabbed his arm.

For how tiny she was, Sam had a hell of a grip. He could feel each of her fingers digging into his arm like she was Iron Man or some shit. Standing on that stair as she was, the two of them were almost of a height, so he had no choice but to look into her eyes, wide and scared and not totally there as she asked, “What does that mean? What do you mean ‘now?’ Like, like…like his parents have plans for more kids, or—”

He wasn’t sure why he didn’t pull away from her, considering she was absolutely acting like a crazy person (and a crazy person on the verge of hoarking up her lunch onto him, at that), but he didn’t. “Uh, I meant his si—” Conrad froze, his bafflement melting away into shock, then suspicion, then realization, then finally…fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck him sideways. “Oh holy shit, you don’t know about that, do you?”

Sam stared at him.

Well that was great.

“Fffffff—okay. Okay. I think maybe I should…stop…talking…”

“Conrad.” Sam’s voice had gone dry and cracked, making her sound exactly like a spooky ghost child from a bad horror movie. “I need you to tell me about his sisters.”

“Sam, I—wait.” Anxiously, he glanced over his shoulder towards the door of the apartment, turning back to her only once he was sure it was still closed. “How did you know I was gonna say sisters?” That was an awfully lucky guess she was about to make. Suspiciously lucky.

“Please.”

Oh this was fucked. This whole situation was fucked. This wasn’t something he should’ve been talking about—hell, when it had gotten brought up earlier, he’d just sort of made an ass out of himself until he and Wash had paraded themselves past it. But it didn’t look like Sam was going to be so easily swayed. Nope. Not even a little. “I probably shouldn’t…look, I’ve already…this is a real dick move, and—”

“Was it a car accident?”

It was his turn to stare blankly at her.

“Were they twins?”

Conrad did pull away from her then; slowly, yes, but deliberately. “So what’s the deal?” he asked, clearly trying to figure out what the fuck was happening, every inch as lost—as terrified—as she seemed. “Do you know the story or not? Make up your mind!”

A second, maybe two, and then Sam sprinted past him, the front doors to the apartment complex banging shut behind her as she all but flew out of the place. Then she was just gone, leaving him standing in front of the stairs like some sort of dipshit, his stomach tied up in knots and his mouth tasting like crushed-up aspirin.

He shot another nervous glance up the stairs, almost as though he expected the CREEPs to be standing at the top, shaking their heads judgmentally or…shit, throwing balled up garbage at him or something. Of course they weren’t—why would they be?—but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d just gone and done something he shouldn’t have.

Sam must’ve known something about Wash’s sisters…right? She sure seemed to know they’d been twins. And fuck, the thing about the car crash? Fucking spooky, that’s what that was! She had to have known. No question. It wasn’t like he’d just told her about them, he couldn’t have told her about them if she already knew, but…

Then why did he feel so absolutely godawful about the whole thing?

His phone buzzed in his pocket, causing him to jump about a mile into the air. The people walking by must’ve thought he was having some sort of fit, Jesus Christ…he grabbed his phone to check it, again expecting to see a flurry of furious, indignant messages (‘How could you?!’ ‘So not cool!’ ‘What gives you the fucking right?!’ ‘Who do you think you are?!’ ‘You’re such a douche!’). And again, there was nothing like that. Because…why would there be? The way Sam had run out of the place at full-tilt, he doubted squealing to the dorks was going to be her number one priority.

Fliss: You’re still coming, right?

He brought his other hand up to rake through his hair. Maybe Sam had the right idea after all. Maybe he just needed to take a good, long walk to calm the chaos going on in his chest and in his head. It was worth a shot, wasn’t it?

Conrad: Yeah, running a couple minutes late, my b! Conrad: Save me a seat, wouldya?

Without waiting for a reply, he pocketed his phone again and stepped out into the chilly air, hoping against hope that he hadn’t just really, really, really gone and fucked up.

He had a sinking suspicion, though, that he had.

[tirsden]

Gaz unlocked Graygarden mostly because he wants an adhesive farm and has enough crap to plunk down 100 defense in turrets without relying on guards. There will be a weapons vendor at some point but MacCready wants to go do his second quest and Oberland wants me to go kill some ghouls (which for once aren’t on the far side of the map) so we’re gonna go do dat before attempting to attract another settler.

I’ve missed building with the donut set. Methinks Gaz will see a lot more of that in his future.