#i do feel a little guilty getting synths and then not using them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fallout4-reacts · 2 years ago

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How would the various companions react to like during the escape of vault 114 skinny Malone shouts out to his goons "I want that Twink obliterated" at nick

Cait : She gives Nick a nasty glare but crosses Sole's nervousness. She doesn't like this phoney detective who looks down on her, but she doesn't want Sole to feel guilty.

"Don't worry, they'll try; they'll just run into me and my bat on the way."

Codsworth : "We'd better save ourselves as soon as possible!"

Nick casts a glimpse towards the robot accompanying his saviour. "Why? They never threaten you. They're looking for me."

"However, you are Mum/Sir's only hope of finding young master Shaun. We're not going to let them get to you that simply!"

Nick can't help but smile at the robot, which undoubtedly conveys the background thinking of Sole, who rushes into position, weapon in hand.

Curie : "Doux Jesus!" she said. "This man is terrible! Shouldn't we... flee to avoid them?"

"Not a bad idea," says Sole. "However, Nick, you remain well ahead in sight. I didn't come all this way to have holes drilled in you on the way out."

"What about me?"

"Run with him, and I'll cover you."

Danse : "Tactically, it would be more prudent to abandon the synth. We already have enough on our plate without having to defend this individual against a horde of assailants."

"This synth is my one and only chance to find my son!"

Danse sighs as he looks down at Sole.

"Proceed, I will shield you with my armor. But if you attempt to do it backwards, synth, I'll get out of their way, and we'll have to find another way to find Sole's son."

Deacon : His brows appear over the rims of his glasses, but his demeanour remains unaltered as he gives Sole a little hand gesture to proceed forward. Deacon disappears into the shadows as Sole go further with Nick behind them. While Nick and Sole are walking towards the exit, they hear some dry detonations followed by silence. Deacon rejoins the two fugitives on their level.

"They're not going to chase you anymore, Nick," Deacon says.

Dogmeat : He doesn't know what it's about, but his master goes to this detective, whom he sometimes hang with, and both appear to be afraid of something. The dog's hair rises on the back, and he turns toward the fierce energy with a growl. Men approach with a sinister expression. Dogmeat will shred them all.

Elder Maxson : He dislikes Nick Valentine. He dislikes being persuaded to do this with Sole. He has no idea how this happened. (Possibly due to the fact that the Prydwen never arrived in the Commonwealth at this point 😅😉 ) But one thing is certain: he despises losing his goal to the adversary. He spins around in an instant and charges, not like a fool, but like in a true guerrilla, using the shadows to set up ambushes where raw force or gunfire are insufficient. The poor triggermen have little chance against such a smart tactician, who is equally good at conceiving and executing a strategy.

Hancock : "They don't know who they're dealing with!" he exclaims.

And before Sole or Nick can react, he leaps into the melee, dodging gunfire and splitting the stomachs with his knife without hesitation. Nick and Sole make it their business to complete what little work remained. But the mayor can become feral whenever he wants, and threatening one of his buddies brings out the worst in him.

Gage : He casts a mocking glance towards Sole.

"I told you it was a bad plan from the start!"

"I require the services of this detective. We must prevent them from killing him."

"You need that detective. I need an Overboss. But I'm not going to let a gang of triggermen kill me for this, Overboss. You'll meet me at Nuka-World when you remember what your interests are."

He walks away without saying anything else. He's a raider, you know. Loyalty is not something they have a reputation for. (After all, even if you romance him, he is the first to shoot you in Open Season)

MacCready : "It smells like bone."

"If we don't help him, I'll never find my son."

"Two or three hundred more caps and—"

"Wait, are you negotiating at this time?" exclaim Sole.

"There will never be another better time."

"150, and we have a deal."

"Are you serious?" ask Nick, becomeing irritated.

"Sold! Pointe, I fire."

And, needless to say, there is no longer a triggerman to chase a now taciturn Nick who can't believe his life has been negotiated down.

Nick Valentine : He gives Sole a look of concern. That was something he should have expected. Honor is always last on the agenda with individuals like Malone. He raises his weapon and prepares to protect his life, but to his surprise, Sole also shoulders.

"Wait, you're not fleeing? They're looking for me."

"I also require your assistance. Furthermore, there is no need to investigate who is good and who is bad."

The detective says nothing as the exchange of fire begins, but even after the final triggerman has ceased breathing, he continues to ponder about the moment when Sole, a stranger to him, risked their lives for his synthetic skin.

Piper : "Things are getting complicated," she observed.

"You can go, I'll cover your back," Sole replies.

"Don't you think about it seriously? Do you believe this is the most dangerous situation I've ever encountered? Anyway, I'm not giving up Nicky that lightly."

"Wow, Piper, I'd almost be flattered," Nick says, taken aback.

"Don't think too much," she advised. "It's only a matter of ethics."

Preston : "Who do they think they are?" He asks. "We made a deal, and we stuck to it!"

"You can have fun explaining it to them once they put holes on me like a sieve," Nick replies sarcastically.

"Who do you believe I am? We didn't come to pull you out of there and watch you die!"

Sole doesn't waste time debating and rushes into position, ready to receive the triggerman. Preston covers their back and shoots enthusiastically. When there are no more triggermen standing, he moves closer to the nearest body.

"Adhere to the terms of any deal you make. Honor is what keeps a man up when he has nothing else."

Strong : "AAAAAAAAAAARH!" he shouts.

No wondering which side he's on. Sole wants the detective; the men want to kill the detective. Strong kills the men. Strong is powerful. Strong defends Roboman. That’s all.

X6-88 : "I would strongly suggest that we abandon this obsolete model, which appears to be accumulating more and more problems, and instead utilize the Institute's resources in order to achieve your objective." "What are you doing here???!!"

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hospitalterrorizer · 7 months ago

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diary387

10/13-14/24

sunday - monday

sometimes, dreams do come true.

as always with dreams though, there's many fucked up parts that are kind of horrible and sad! so i was able to get into the festival because my friend from out of town, she came with two other friends, and one got dropped on her head while crowd surfing to cap'n jazz's oh messy life. that was the first day, second day, they had to go to the hospital for her, then she had the okay, then today, there were complications and this is really worrying, i am going to ask about that tomorrow, i think to not be a pest about it today, they came over to pick some stuff up, they left it with us, and my friend asked me on the phone before coming if i'd like her wristband, and i was like... yeah, part of me feels so guilty though, like i don't deserve that level of kindness, i can't really believe people would be so nice to me, or like my gf being so nice to me always too, everyone is really nice to me, i don't get it. i don't do anything good or useful, i feel in fact like i've leeched off of terrible circumstance a bit, and it also feels like it's just that the world is painful and we are fragile, there's a cruel logic to things and this is how they end up, or can end up, good things can be nightmares a little too. but the show was incredible, i got to see the jesus lizard too and they sound great, yow is surprisingly active as a guy still, as in moving around lots, being super expressive, he loves music, you can feel it.

blood brothers though, this was their first show of their tour, and they i think went as hard as they possibly could. jordan at one point brought up being of advanced age, some of the songs being hard, needing a breather, johnny spent most of the show crowdsurfing, he loved it, so many people surfed, it was very exciting, i was at the barricade the whole time honestly the crowd was super respectful. morgan had these insanely loud and low bass synth sounds, at points, deeper than his actual bass, so much sub stuff going on, running some synth into an ampeg head and a sunn cab, idk what head his bass and guitar were going to (he played both, some songs have no bass, just like, baritone (maybe (maybe just guitar where the low frequencies can come thru cuz of the head and cab)) guitar riffing beside the regular guitar, which cody played through a whole orange amp rig. funny to see, sounded very good though, such an odd sound he has i don't know how to describe it. it really is like, i dunno, sharp sounding but not really super high frequency focused? odd odd guitar sound. really great though, i was by morgan but it came through surprisingly well much of the time. the one issue w/ the sound was the kick was kind of fucked up loud, but that's okay, i like fucked up loud basically. i think johnny's voice started to go towards the end a bit, i think both were like that, i don't think they figured they'd be doing such a long set on this tour, but i'm glad i got to see it like this, they did like so many great songs, i like how much they did of the later records, and they did do a (i think just one) song off of march on electric children. also very fun to see johnny play keys. it's definitely the case that morgan and mark are the guys doing so much to make the band work, crazy musicians, everyone in the band is a crazy musician, i think like, they play such fucked up music structurally that it's hard to play perfectly, certainly some mistakes but the looseness helps it feel really cool, idk, they're just playing that shit, going off, i felt it so hard, i was so joyous seeing them too, it's like this violent apocalyptic jubilance, a crazy thing for art to get at.

here i'll insert, when my friend came to drop things off, it was a brief hello, but when two came to pick everything up, they stayed for a while, or an hour, if an hour is a while, we didn't really talk, i just enjoyed having them in the house and serving them, or helping or trying to help, they were so appreciative, that makes me want to cry right now, i felt like i was doing so little, just offering things to them while cooking for my gf, or helping bring out a suitcase and a bag, they're such kind people, it's crazy how kind and appreciative people can be, i did hardly anything i swear, it seemed to mean a lot to them, it makes me want to do more for them, and everyone else.

i also, during the whole set, kept thinking about fear and hunger... this is now the fear and hunger portion of my diary entry...

so daan died...we got to the church, i got the third statue, wandered around a little while, it was fun to figure out how to get through the underground of the church. i was going through, fighting those snail headed freaks, i had to fight a death mask, at least i know where the second one spawns for me, so i can strategize about that (i'll get to this in a moment), i found the path out, but found something rather tragic, a whole scene in the otherworld rher dimension with samarie, where she confessed all kinds of things to marina, who barely knew her... i want to know what goes on with that, i wonder, can i do a play through where i find her as marina and get them together, traveling? something about them together is cute to me or, i don't know... it's like, the game is well written already, but the writing of that scene, genuinely, it hits a story of the eye type feeling, this perverse woman, killer of the father, obsessed with the trans girl who she watched "caressing herself" and putting makeup on for hours, marina not understanding, there is this tragic gulf, there's this excess, the absence of fear of approaching these characters having some, i don't want the word erotic to be taken as my finding this arousing, rather, they exist in that dimension, it's not shied away from really, it adds to the disorienting sadness of the conversation, it's like, not scary, it's tragic, i can't tell if marina forgot her friend who was secretly obsessed, or if she was obsessed from such a difference they just never spoke. but samarie makes it sound like they spoke. i don't know, something about the two of them, they feel equally forced into the role of being objects, i guess, then there's this failure on samarie's part to understand her friend, or even manage her feelings, it's genuinely really moving to me, and then she transformed into dysmorphia (not confusing it with dysphoria), and used hurting on daan, blew his arm off, and then used it on him before he could heal himself, and killed him, making it almost too much to bear, i instantly missed his party talk chatter, how he was so distant and snide, evidently kind or wounded or something though. still in awe at this, miro's ability to make these characters something, not to be cruel about games generally, but it's rare to see that, even in the first one it's a bit... they're very much stereotypes, but messed up, subverted, there's an emotional dimension to them, certainly as you complete the journey with them, you imprint a lot onto them. but in this it's different. eventually, we killed her.

really really sad, we escaped the church, the path to the tower open, a blood portal made as well, we went back to the train, i got the guy who looks like jojo, marcoh, he is very nice too, a kind man. but, honestly, he is not daan, daan is so... maybe i just find him cute, or something, or, he's so charming to me, the way he tries to distance himself, i saw some people say this game is much less depressing than the first, this is untrue, the state i found him in, sitting in a room, trapped, staring into space, when you ask him about a sigil on the floor he says, don't ask questions you don't want answers to. he's grim in a way that's not like, really silly. it feels honest from him. it's not like marcoh feels dishonest he's just a tough kind man, still though everyone in this game feels some kind of pathetic, not saying this cruelly, it is a positive. it makes me want to cry a little, or not a little, it just makes me want to cry. so now this game is in my favorites of all time, i mean it, it's really up there... beside yume nikki and silent hill. i haven't even beat it yet, i just, i don't know, no matter what bothers me about it, its handling of marina, that specific moment with samarie, the fact i want to go back in time even though i have a rather well set up save with 4 characters in my party, 2 hours of progress made, to try and save daan, that's insane right? that's like really meaningful, to me. these characters aren't even so... they're not like intensely strong, it's not like a vn, it's like, you feel attached to them because you feed them, you help them cope, or you see them eat together, and cope together, and then they say just a little more in this one, olivia tries to be absentminded, and talk about plants, can't stop being afraid, karin is always being tough and political, daan is affecting distance... i dunno.

it is silly probably how much i relate to marina, since she is a silent protagonist here, it's mostly that making it work like that, i dunno, this and the first do a good job of making you feel a meaningful connection to those characters in yourself, like you have something of them embedded in you, i guess it might be the suffering? no suffering so intense as what's in the game, but still, its cruel vision of things feels empathetic to quotidian pains.

i'm getting all rambly and emotional about a video game. these are blessed times for me, the fact i have a new favorite of this magnitude, and that i saw the blood brothers, i don't know. i napped, i kept seeing the character move around in my head. just going through places that don't exist. so many special pieces of art in the world:

youtube

listening to this song, i'm always reminded of clouds in summer, when it rains and is humid, the huge pillars of clouds, those non-things trying to climb higher than the blue of the sky, it feels like, and the day that was totally clear yet humid (maybe not clear? in my head... maybe there are streaks of clouds, torn up cotton balls in the blue...), where my grandma took my cousin and i to see dolphins at the mgm grand i think. the palm trees, the false tropical environment, the beauty of the animals, their faces. was it the mgm? it might have been another one... whatever though, it was a casino, it could be one that's been torn down. anyway, this song contains that inside it, and more, it has this clumsiness in it, or, it dredges up my clumsy childhood feelings or ways of seeing, simpler things, everything is huge, every emotion, my confusions, my early education in the desire of others, it's all this quiet slow dance thing. i don't know why this song is coming to me now, or why i picked it out of all others, but i really feel it so deeply. i guess this is what happens when there are days like this.

with this, i must sleep,

so,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#Youtube

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lootkey · 1 year ago

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Okay first listen through of TTPD standard edition thoughts:

This is very sonically cohesive I think? I know some people were irritated she didn’t go in a new sound but honestly this album isn’t about the sound. It’s about the lyrics. Most of her albums find a balance of production and lyrics but I truly think that for this record more than any other the lyrics are supposed to shine. I really like it I think. We will see after a few more listens but there’s some high points and there’s some lows (tattooed golden retriever I’m looking you 🥴)

Fave 3:

Florida!!!

Down Bad

The Alchemy

Best 3:

But Daddy I Love Him

So Long, London

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

Fortnight

Functioning alcoholic?? Ma’am?? Im confused a little by the lyrics and the perspective here. Also, why are you’re so murderous Taylor?? It sounds nice though! Love Posty’s vocals in the background. This song is definitely going to be stuck in my head at random times. This would have been huge on Tumblr during 2014-2015. 7/10? I think this may be a grower for me.

The Tortured Poets Department

Okay drums! “Who uses a typewriter anyway” get his pretentious ass Taylor. Personally not loving that slip into a falsetto in “hold me” but I digress. The second verse (?) where the Puth and gold retriever line is? 🤨 “we’re crazy” a self aware queen… this is not my favorite? It’s not bad but I don’t think I will actively seek it out. 6/10

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

I really like this heavy dark synth in the background. I fear this is about J*e and RIP buddy. She’s the only person who could get away with “litany of reasons” in a song. Queen of Sandcastles?!?! The bridge is ruining me, girl was going through it. 8/10, I think.

Down Bad

I fear this one may let me down because I loved that stupid AI snippet that went viral on TikTok lmao. I wasn’t sure about the first verse but HOLY SHIT THIS CHORUS. “Fuck it” Ms. Swift I am scandalized (no I’m not you go queen). The gaylors are going to run wild with the “I lost my twin” bit 🙄. Love this one!! 9/10

So Long, London

Admittedly I hear a leak snippet of this one beforehand but I do love the production of this one. The intro is a bit jarring at first but it goes with the rest of the song well! Her voice sounds so fucking good here. The lyrics are ripping me apart. “All that youth for free” ouch ouch ouch ouch. This somehow sadder than Tolerate It???? Like they tried to soften the blow with the production but oh my god. 10/10

But Daddy, I Love Him

I’ve heard whisperings that there’s shade to the “SpeakUpNow” travesty that happened last May? Get them parasocial weirdos girl. Oh god yeah this is definitely in relation to Taylor Swift™️ and how people forget she’s an actual human fucking being. Honestly I love this and some of it reminds me of Fearless kind of?? But also girl is a little delulu here. Love the BRIDGE YES YES YES. big dictionary girl here. I feel like the last verse is more towards TK than matty but I could be wrong?? This is not a song I will reach for but it is really so so good. 9/10

Fresh Out the Slammer

The western twangy start? Interesting. Love her delivery and cadence here. Matty really wasn’t the only consistent guy on the roster huh? Good for you girl. Another song a little delulu but I forgive her. Another one I think the Gaylors are going to take and run with 🙄 this may be the first “filler” so far but it’s not really 7/10

Florida!!!

I’m so excited for this one personally. OH MY GOD THE CEREMONIALS INFLUENCE. FLORENCE!!!! OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD. Another hint at murder??? Oh she was PISSED. This song is going to make me get a speeding ticket. The BRIDGE!!!!!!!!!! The feeling of restlessness when you feel stuck I life and up and running to Florida, she’s just like me fr. 10/10 immaculate

Guilty as Sin?

Blue Nile? Oh this is about Matty. Loving the instrumental. This is such a “windows down cruising on the highway” song. The vibes are so good. Oh girl… you want him so bad. I love this one, it reminds me of something but I can’t put my finger on it. Also the religious references in this one? Wow. THE FINAL CHORUS?? Jack Antonoff they could never make me hate you. 9/10

Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me

This is haunting. The lyrics are so dark but her delivery is almost smug? Excellent. “Whos afraid of little old me? You should be??” Again, a self aware queen. Also for some reason I’m getting Control by Halsey vibes?? She’s never beating the witchcraft allegations, sorry. She’s slowly loosing her mind over the course of this song and oh my god. “Sue you”????? Oh girl get them. This is one where I probably won’t reach for it but it is such a good good song holy fuck 9/10. Self written and self produced too?

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

I don’t know why people thought this is about Matty, this to me is so clearly about Joe I think. The outlaw imagery paired with the production is so interesting. The lyric change at the end? Love it. Overall this isn’t my fave? 6/10

Loml

Oh this one is going to hurt me isn’t it. It’s so clear that she really does value marriage and wanted that with her past partners, which makes Lavender Haze so heartbreaking in retrospect. The chorus is going to make me sob so thank you Taylor. Wait wait wait, “Mr. Steal Your Girl” ma’am???? Be serious. Well this is about Joe lol. I’m so glad she seems happier now because this was written from a place of deep hurt. 8/10

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart

Holy fucking vibe change from the last song lol. The haters are going to hate this one but it is the classic ironic song that people will love to shit on without using any critical thinking skills. Thematically this is actually kind of genius because the lyrics are depressing and the rhyme is kind of elementary but slapping this beat behind it paints this picture of you know a pop star who has to go out and preform even though everything is falling apart. This stripped down would be devastating. 8/10

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

The inhaled breath to start oh my god we’re crying again. She’s implying he’s poor isn’t she? Oh my god. I do think this one is about Joe again? Stabbed me with my push pins??? Oh girl. Sank in stoned oblivion?? See I don’t think she’d make that comment about an addict who’s clean now but she’s given us other songs where it alludes to the fact that Joe smokes (YOYOK, paper rings, etc). She’s so angry here and it makes me so sad for her because I feel like it’s a feeling most women understand. This hurts so so so bad. 10/10.

The Alchemy

Yes lower register!! Ohhh this is a love song 🥹 also is this about TK? The team references?? I love this one. Another that I can see with windows down, cruising on a highway. Okay wait maybe Matty? That heroin line sounds like a joke he would make lol but everything else is so TK coded so idk. This scratches my brain in such a nice. 9/10

Clara Bow

This is definitely going to be in the same category of The Lucky One and Nothing New isn’t it? STEVIE NICKS SHOUTOUT OH MY GOD!!!! Oh this is bittersweet. Oh my god that last bit about TS with edge? How hard it must be to be this self aware and yet still have to sort of accept that fate. 8/10.

Okay that’s the end of the standard edition!!!

#taylor swift #the tortured poets department #pop music #first listen thoughts

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qblester · 4 months ago

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🎸 - Can your muse play any instruments? Do they play them often, or rarely? How actually skilled are they at playing them?

⚾️ - Does your muse enjoy sports? Do they play any, or do they simply prefer to watch? Do they have a favorite sport?

// Krissa is Way more musically inclined, she switches between being "pretty okay" at guitar and "alright" at bass. Quinton used to go in her room and play with her Casio keyboard, the kind that you can sample on and everything. Not really playing music but just fiddling with it. She has some little synths that he will play with while she talks At him.

The real thing with both lesters is they can mimic others incredibly well, so while he cant play piano on his own, he can put on a youtube video and then dissociate just a little so he can fill in the blanks and inherit muscle memory for it. It's a fun party trick. :)

For most sports the loudness and expectation that you know whats going on and several other factors make it too intimidating for him to get into. I think he has a phase every olympics year where he loves watching all of those. I don't think he's ever been to any sports game. In a better life without the supernatural i think he would get into some form of niche hiking which is kind of like a sport. He would watch like, wnba for pervert reasons but he doesnt know about womens sports and would feel guilty.

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baraste-legacy · 1 year ago

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Ships: not many of those, now that I realize, which is curious. Maybe it's because I spend most of my potential shipping energy (Metric or Imperial units? 😛) in my own stuff. I've read tons of movie, TV, and game characters-based fanfics, and I guess it's more about the themes and writing than the specific pairings.

That said, there is one that I never see around (I even made an attempt at writing it): Mass Effect's Kaidan Alenko with… Ashley Williams! Not so much an actual thing going on as having Kaidan being enchanted by her and her antics without acting on it (the whole Normandy gang has enough shenanigans going on already).

Last Song: a cover of Sophie & Peter Johnston's "Torn Open" by Brothertiger and Yvette Young (that old synth-pop song has been forever with me, and I never expected anyone doing a cover, even less so a recent one).

Current reading: re-reading some of Charles Stross' Laundry Files series books. Also, some Cthulhu Mythos compilations, looking for fresh takes and angles on them (the less Euclidean the better). Thinking about getting some more Alastair Reynolds stuff: I'm a sucker for hard scifi's imaginary tech.

I recently re-read William Gibson's Sprawl Trilogy in the original English (I read a translation decades ago, when my English wasn't able enough): it was nice getting to taste his style from back then. I tried his most recent stuff, but it was difficult: he has his tricks, and they feel more like vices at this stage.

Last Film: there was an attempt 😐. Several popcorn ones I tried to watch and couldn't get through, either out of cookie-cutterness (Lift) or bombastics (Rebel Moon's slomos-within-slomos). I hardly go to movie theaters these days: the really good multiplexes are far enough to be too inconvenient. Avatar 2 merited the effort. Dune 2nd part might, too, if it's not a dubbed version.

TV-wise, I'm watching True Detective Season 4th. Jodie Foster feels like she's having great fun playing this one.

I'm a Trekker (the weird kind whose first contact and love was Star Trek: The Motion Picture. TV SF-wise, Space:1999 was it 😤). ST:Lower Decks holds my faith on quality Star Trek, which is hysterical but I just don't know what's going on in the writing rooms these last decades: TNG-era Trek used to have a strong procedural TV element to it, and Deus-Ex-Machinating their way out of situations used to be a shameful last resort.

Damm, I'm such a greybeard 😂.

That said, ST:Strange New Worlds is a guilty pleasure. Cautiously curious about ST:Discovery's final season (it's been just too uneven a series).

Craving: a better attention span and willpower. I tend to overwhelm myself with projects and become paralyzed instead of just investing my time on them in an evenly fashion (even my fan art collectioning is suffering: there's a pile of a thousand plus drafted reblogs yet to tag and post 😭).

I think I won't tag anybody, if it's ok. I'm happy to show a little bit of ankle 😛, and everybody around is interesting, but I'm good with just whatever personal stuff casually emerges through the normal, daily Tumblring 🙂, so, reaching feels like I'd be imposing (I'm more expansive in other, more inherently chatty spaces, such as Discord. Here, I'm more of a lurker, I guess).

9 people you'd like to get to know better (Tag Game)

Tagged by @jukkariart - the little gremlin they are ;D

3 Ships • Canon Ship: Sarah Kerrigan & James Raynor (I am that old, yes) • OC Ship: My Gray Warden Aedan Cousland & The Witch of the Wild Morrigan (They're all bad decisions. These idiots hold a special place in my heart ❤️) • Ship of the Week: Tahr'rys Nelubin & Ashara Zavros (codependent idiots and disaster semi-couple partners)

1st Ship I'd say Jan Ors & Kyle Katarn but also Scully & Mulder. Can't decide. Seems I like complex and complicated ships the most. Sorry for not being sorry here.

Last Song: Many. I usually listen to Future-/SynthPop or a diversity of Trance radio channels at di.fm - depending on my mood Death-/Power-/NuMetal can occur too. It's radio guys - I don't know all the names of the songs they play lol

Current reading: I have the bad habit of reading several books and/or comics at once… 🫠 • The Cycle of Wind and Sparks aka The Chronicles of Hara by Alexei Pehov (Алексей Пехов) • The 13½ Lives of Captain Bluebear by Walter Moers • The 13th Paladin Series by Torsten Weitze

Last Film: Trash! Rebel Moon, Forbidden World and our annual viewing of The Room on New Year's Eve, for sure.

Craving: Does it sound sad when I state that I crave some free time? There's only work, more work & even more work. I want some time to sleep and charge my creative batteries. Money can't buy that, though. Still, bills must be paid. So, it's back to work, I guess? 🥲

Tagging: No pressure (don't mind them if you were already tagged) @baraste-legacy @bigbadvv0lf @pioneer-over-c @xanthouransong @generouspicklesaladhumanoid @theoasiswinds @swtorpadawan @dingoat @kemendin

#social #baraste-legacy

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authortobenamedlater · 2 years ago

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My thoughts on Picard.

(This is later than expected. I had it in my drafts and forgot to hit post.)

It’s starting off strong, but last season did too and then it fell way the heck off the cliff. Last season however did not have the entire TNG cast going for it.

I am HERE for Picard and Riker’s grumpy old Starfleet officers routine. I’m here for ALL OF IT. I could watch it for an hour straight every week and consider that quality television. If you want to reply to this and tell me I have bad taste, I already know that and you won’t shame me into not having bad taste.

Something is up with Captain Shaw. The show deliberately made a point that he’s rude for seemingly no good reason. The guy is a jerk to everyone including his own first officer which makes no sense because…he’s the captain. If he doesn’t like Annika Seven Shots he can get a new XO. I expect he knows something about Crusher’s predicament and that Picard and Riker are going after her. And maybe Shaw’s also in on why she’s out there in the first place.

Marina Sirtis is in the trailers so Deanna’s feud with Will can’t be THAT bad, but what is it? What did he do to make his wife AND his kid want a break from him that he hasn’t already done in the past three-plus decades? Or is Will faking the spat to get Picard to feel less guilty about this little jaunt?

Even though she has her struggles, it’s nice to see Seven of Nine made a sort of life for herself Alpha Quadrant. I always loved her character even though I didn’t love how Voyager used her.

On the other side of the coin is poor Raffi who can’t seem to catch a break. Obviously she’s with Starfleet somehow, but I get the feeling she’s still kind of disgraced. I hope by the end of the season she gets some happiness and gets to meet her granddaughter. She’s so maternal and nurturing under all that toughness and she would be such a fun grandmama.

Raffi is my favorite of the new Picard characters if you can’t tell.

The Neo-Constitution class callback to TOS? I love it. Maybe it’s cheesy. I still love it.

The latest in the unending parade of reinvented Starfleet uniforms is sharp too.

GEORDI HAS A LITTLE GIRL. ❤️ Mr says Memory Alpha lists another daughter working at the Fleet Museum and a son somewhere. So where is Mrs. La Forge? Will we meet her? Geordi the family man makes me smile.

Now the biggest question: How did Beverly end up with a son the crew didn’t know about? I have two possibilities.

First, her attempt to be lovers with Picard was more successful than anyone realized including them.

Second, and this one is Mr’s, Beverly’s “son” is really an android and because synths are illegal in the Federation now, she had to go into hiding with him and not tell anyone what happened.

How Android Jack came to be is anyone’s guess. First option is simpler, second is a more obvious explanation for why Beverly has been out of contact for two decades.

I do feel the need to point out though, if Jack is only 20 years old Beverly would have been near- or post-menopausal when he was born. Menopause miracle babies do happen and space magic medicine can do a lot but I don’t think it can hold off The Change indefinitely.

The same can be said of the Riker kids, but Deanna is half Betazoid so maybe that has something to do with it.

#star trek picard #Star Trek

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danses-with-dogmeat · 4 years ago

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so, How do you think the companions would react to finding out sole has advanced prosthetics from their time in the war? (i headcannon fem sole as some sort of SOF during the war, coz lawyer is just boring >.>)

Fallout 4 Companions react to Sole having advanced prosthetics from before the bombs fell.

Hey anon, thanks so much for the ask! This was really interesting to think about, and yeah, I also headcannoned one of my OCs as a soldier before the bombs fell, cuz yeah... not sure how helpful being a lawyer would be in post-apocalyptic times 😅 I hope you enjoy!

Cait:

Her eyes would fall to the line across Sole’s right elbow, wondering how she hadn’t noticed it before. She wouldn’t care too much, and wouldn’t treat them any differently, but she would be interested in how Sole had gotten their injury, and would certainly try and coax the whole story out of them (resorting to the use of alcohol if necessary to loosen their lips). She was so bold about her own traumatic past experiences, so Sole could surely tell her about this one thing, right? The brawler might also be interested in the physical abilities of their prosthetic arm and hand, wondering if it would give them an edge in the next bar fight they found themselves in.

Curie:

She would be very interested in every detail Sole could provide regarding their prosthetic shoulder, left chest plate, and arm. The scientist wouldn’t be able to contain herself, asking question after question about its functionality, the nature of Sole’s injury before they received the prosthetic, their rehabilitation process, the way the prosthetic interacts with Sole’s body and how it's able to move. As Sole stood there, trying to figure out where to begin, Curie’s eyes would widen in surprise at her own rudeness, she would apologize and ask if Sole was comfortable discussing their injury with her. As she finds out more, Curie would begin to try and create her own prosthetics based off of Sole’s in order to help any handicapped patients she came across in the Commonwealth.

Danse:

The paladin’s eyes would widen at Sole’s words. He never would have guessed that Sole’s entire left hip and leg was an advanced prosthetic, and the commanding officer would be curious as to why they hadn’t mentioned it to him earlier. He would feel guilty as he thought back on all of the times he pushed them harder, told them to gruffly to keep up or to continue moving after it seemed like they needed rest. He would apologize and ask how he could help to better accommodate Sole, offering to speak to Proctor Teagan and Proctor Ingram about Sole’s circumstances and possible improvements to their power armor or the prosthetic itself. Danse would be a little hesitant, but ultimately he would gain the courage to ask if they would be comfortable telling him about how they were injured, going so far as to share some of the stories surrounding his own battle scars with them in return.

Deacon:

Deacon would have been curious as to why Sole always wore their sunglasses, he often thought perhaps they were simply mocking him. But one night, as they removed their shades and locked eyes with him, he would notice the difference in coloration and ask them about it. When they told him one of their eyes was a fully functioning prosthetic, he'd be a little shocked, not even aware that those existed, but interested nonetheless. Apart from the occasional joke about Sole getting an eye patch, being a pirate, or just sight-related puns in general, he would be pretty chill about the whole thing. If Sole wanted to tell him more about it, he was open to it, but he wouldn't mind if they wanted to keep it to themself. No matter how much he knows, Deacon would be protective of his partner, and would try his best to keep their prosthetic a secret from as many people as possible, since it is such a unique feature of theirs.

Hancock:

He wouldn't even break eye contact with Sole when they told him about their prosthetic right arm and shoulder, he would just ever so slightly raise the ridge above his eyes in surprise at having never noticed before. It really wouldn't matter to him, and he would treat Sole the same way he always has, just maybe he would try and stick to the right of them more often since he knows that it's their weaker side. If they're ever in any pain, he'll of course have a plethora of chems on hand to help relieve them of it. He won't be one to openly ask about their past and their injury, but if they want to tell him, he's all ears and no judgment.

MacCready:

He would try to act nonchalant when they told him about their prosthetic forearm, wrist, and hand, but his expression would clearly give away his shock. What do you mean it’s not real!? How does it work? What happened to your real arm? Can you still feel stuff with it? Does it make it harder to aim? How does it move? A hundred questions would tumble into his mind, but he would try his best to keep them all from spilling out of his mouth at once, putting on a cool front, he’d simply nod and tell them that he’s glad they felt they could tell him about it, and that would be the end of it for now. As they continue traveling together, he would periodically voice one of the questions he had thought of before, still trying to seem aloof about the whole thing. In reality, he thinks it’s really cool, and it reminds him of a few comic book characters he’s read about.

Nick:

The detective was nothing short of astounded when he looked into Sole’s eyes for the first time after finding out they were fully functioning prosthetics. He couldn’t believe it, they looked so realistic, he never would have known if he hadn’t been told. Finding out about Sole’s eyes honestly made the synth feel more at home around them; not that they had ever made him feel alienated as a synth, but now he felt like they could empathize with him a bit more easily. Although, he must admit, he’s a little jealous of their normal-looking eyes in comparison to his own. The older synth has made his peace with who and what he is, having been this way his whole synthetic life, but he may just approach Sole and speak to them about where, hypothetically, he could find prosthetics like theirs, and would consider speaking to Dr. Amari about installing them. Sole, of course, would help him out, all while making sure Nick knew how much they liked his eyes the way that they are.

Piper:

The reporter's eyes would slowly widen with each inch Sole's pant leg was rolled up to expose their prosthetic ankle, shin, and knee. She would then try to contain her shock, but would fail pretty miserably as her interviewing instinct kicked in and she began firing off every question that entered her mind. Most of them had to do with how Soles life changed after they had their injury, and then received their prosthetic limb, and Sole would answer a few to appease her before she realized how insensitive she was being. Piper would then instantly make up for it by apologizing to them, and offering to help them out with anything they may need. More often than not, while they were traveling, she would offer to carry more, would try and take more rest stops, and would offer even more snacks and beverages to Sole along the way. Sole would insist that they're okay, telling her about the fully functioning nature of their prosthetic, but she would still take efforts to help them out more often.

Preston:

He would start by apologizing to Sole after he found out, but he wouldn’t be sure exactly why he felt the need to apologize. Perhaps because he felt sorry for them, and the injury and rehabilitation they had to live through? Or maybe it was because he felt like he had put too much pressure on them from the start? He had asked them to take down a dozen raiders and a deathclaw on the first day he’d met them, and then offered them the position of general, and all this time they had been helping those in need of their help with two prosthetic legs. They told him briefly that they had been injured before the bombs fell, but he hadn’t realized it had been this extensive. He would be sure to take it a little easier on them, and would be more conscious of their well-being, offering to rest more when they were traveling, and giving what missions he could to other minutemen. Preston wouldn’t pry, but would be ready to listen if Sole ever wanted to tell him more about their injury or their experience living with their prosthetics.

X6-88:

X6's expression would remain ultimately unchanged as they told him about their two prosthetic hands, but he would marvel at their authenticity. How had he not known that they were prosthetics? The courser would ask if they were fully functional, if only to ensure that the prosthetics wouldn't be a danger to Sole in combat, but once assured that they were, he wouldn't treat Sole any differently. Inside, he would be curious about how Sole had sustained such an injury, but he would never voice it. If they did choose to tell him the whole story, he would simply listen and nod, a little confused as to why they felt the need to share this information with him. Though he didn't know why they told him, he would feel a strange lightness in his chest at the fact that they trusted him enough to share something this personal with him.

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goodlucktai · 4 years ago

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(I feel like I should finish your prompt first but. These ones are so good....feel free to ignore if you have too many asks but 29 or 33 with chocobros...?

PROMPTS LIST

33. “Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?” “Yes.” “What if I just break his nose a little?”

ik i just did this one for natsuyuu but...........chocobros

They're somewhere in Duscae, near enough to the coast that each breeze carries a hint of the sea, on another errand for another stranger to scrape together enough gil to eat tonight.

They've stopped at the last little roadside cluster of shops before the countryside stretches far and wide and wild, stocking up on what meager supplies they can afford.

Noctis has never lived this way before. He's never gone to bed hungry before. Neither has Gladio or Ignis, for all their world-weariness and the general practical knowledge and common sense they walk around with that far surpasses Noctis' own.

Ignis can budget with the best of them, and Gladio is willing to eat literally anything at any time, but Prompto is the one who gets it.

He chats at length about all the times he's had to get creative with pasta or rice because it was all that was left in his pantry. Back in high school, when he could only work part-time. When someone should have been taking care of him, and instead he was left to figure out how to stretch a tiny budget much farther than made sense.

"Come on, Iggy," he said once when they were out shopping, half-laughing. Like he thought Ignis was joking. "Fresh produce? We've got like a hundred gil between the four of us and we're totally out of restoratives."

And Ignis paused, and glanced sidelong at him. He put back the crisp, flowery vegetables and pulled out his little notebook and asked for suggestions instead. It took Prompto a few minutes to convince himsef that Ignis was taking him seriously, but now they like, bond over canned fruit.

"I'm gonna kill this catoblepas with my bare hands," Gladio says with feeling, leaning against the car. "I'm so godsdamned sick of pasta. Don't tell Iggy I said that."

Noctis rolls an energy drink between his hands absently, brow furrowed. It's tricky business, and he's not very good at it just yet, but home-made elixirs save them a ton of gil. He feels guilty when they have to spend their money on something he should be able to do himself.

"I'm telling him," he says without missing a beat. "He'll never forget, and he'll give you shit every single time you make cup noodles from now on, forever."

"I can't stand you," Gladio tells him seriously.

The bell above the door of the convenience store rings brightly, and Noctis glances up to see Ignis and Prompto walking out looking a lot more cheerful than they did going in.

Gladio's face does something very subtle and specific when he sees them, there and gone in a second, before Noctis can pin it down and figure it out.

"What are you two chucklefucks up to?" he calls over. Ignis immediately narrows a disapproving stare at him, but Prompto beams.

"I got a commission, sort of!" he says.

"A commission?" Noctis parrots, sending the energy drink back to the Armiger.

"Sort of?" Gladio adds.

"While we were checking out, the store-owner saw my camera, and seemed really into it," Prompto says. "Since, you know. It's unique."

Noctis does know. The digital camera hanging at Prompto's side has been with him since Noctis first bought it for him three years ago. He would rebuild it every so often, bowed over a collection of impossibly tiny parts spread out carefully across a dish towel at the kitchen table in Noctis' apartment. To call it unique is a bit of an understatement.

Gladio frowns, sensing where this is going a split-second before Noctis does. "And?"

"And he offered me money for it! Like, more than it's worth probably. A lot more."

"I don't see how that could be possible," Ignis says smoothly, leaning through the open window of the Regalia to put the shopping bag in the backseat. "Since your camera is clearly priceless. Which is what I explained to the man."

Noctis relaxes, glad that Ignis and Prompto have bonded over shopping to the point that neither of them want to do it unless they can go together-- because if Prompto had been in there by himself, he 100% would have sold his camera. He would have hated to do it, but he would have done it. It's like he thinks he owes his friends something just for letting him exist.

"Good looking out, Specs," Gladio says gruffly. Prompto waffles a bit, looking torn between pleased and embarrassed. Noctis decides to rescue him.

"What commission, though?" he asks.

"Oh, right. Well, he was kind of bummed about the camera, but he asked if he could see some of my photos, and Ignis said we had time-- "

If it were literally anyone else, Noctis thinks, up to and including and especially the Actual Crown Prince, Ignis would have said they were in a hurry and not to show off.

"--and he seemed really impressed! With the photos! I told him we were going to take down a catoblepas, and he asked why, and I said for some cash, I mean, clearly," Prompto adds, gesturing at the four of them and their general road grime. "So he, ah-- well he's never seen a catoblepas up close before, and he said if I could get some good pictures of it, he'd pay me for them. He gave me a figure, and it's, like, better than some of the jobs I've done for Vyv."

He's delighted, clearly. He likes feeling like he's pulling his own weight. Noctis is always so relieved when Vyv calls, not because of the inherent payday, but more because it puts this light in Prompto's eyes that Noctis would easily climb a hundred volcanic mountains for.

"Damn, Prompto, at this rate you'll have funded our whole trip," Gladio says. He doesn't ruffle his hair anymore, because Prompto actually hates that, just sort of scrunches his fingers through it instead. Prompto doesn't hate that at all. It's adorable.

Sometimes in the early morning, when he and Noctis are the last to drag themselves out of the tiny camper, they'll do their affirmations together:

"Gotta be our best today," Noctis will say, and Prompto will put on this absurdly determined expression, bed hair hanging into his eyes and cheek still creased pink from the pillow.

"Gotta get those hair scrunches," he'll reply gravely.

"What else did he say, Prompto?" Ignis says in a pleasant tone of voice that Noctis hasn't trusted since he was seven years old.

"Um! Nothing. Nothing worth repeating, anyway, you know." He is looking completely away from them now, an avoidance tactic if Noctis has ever seen one. "Woah, is that really the time? We better get going if we wanna catch that cow before it gets dark!"

He turns toward the car and runs into Gladio's arm instead.

"He suggested that Prompto's talents would be put to better use in different company," Ignis says, his voice carrying clearly over Prompto's whine of 'nooo, Iggy, let it go.' "He said that if Prompto ever got tired of our lifestyle, his door would be open."

Ah, Noctis thinks, followed by, ouch?

"Oh, fuck that guy," Gladio blurts. "Let me go talk to him."

"No!" Prompto clings to his arm, throwing all his weight into keeping Gladio in place. The Shield, who could bench Prom's entire body weight in one hand, lets himself be detained anyway and pretends to be annoyed about it. "Ignis, why are you causing trouble right now?" Prompto says frantically.

"Transparency is important in a relationship," Ignis replies.

"There's transparency and then there's causing trouble. Noct, tell them."

"I think Gladio should go talk to him," Noctis says immediately. But then Prompto looks betrayed, and it makes Noctis feel awful. "Ugh, okay. Okay. We're leaving. Ignis, Gladio, that's an executive order."

"Are you sure I can't punch him in the face?" Gladio grumbles.

"Am I-- yes, dude!" Prompto half-laughs nervously. "Very sure!"

"What if I just broke his nose a little?"

"Then that would be treason, I guess, cause Noct just said no."

It's with the standard amount of bickering and noise that they climb into the car, the top rolling up over their heads as it starts to drizzle. Ignis pulls smoothly back onto the cracked asphalt road and reaches over to turn the radio on; a peace offering. From the backseat, Noctis can see the corner of Prompto's smile, framed by a flyaway piece of yellow hair.

They live this way now, but they didn't always. Noctis used to have the run of the whole Citadel, had his own penthouse apartment, grew up dodging banquets and lavish dinners. It's not like he likes sleeping on the ground and having nothing to eat. It's not like he chose to lose his home.

But it could be worse. It's not a bad way to live, just Noctis and the people he loves best and these countless hours together. There's a lot of hard work and sometimes he goes to bed hungry but he knows he'll remember these days forever. He knows he'll miss them.

"Hey," he says, over the quiet sound of rain on the windows and the catchy synth-pop crooning out of the speakers. "Don't ever sell your camera, okay?"

Prompto says, "I mean, I wouldn't ever want to."

"Seriously," Noctis presses. He doesn't want to let it go. It feels important. "Your pictures are-- they mean the world to me, Prom. I can't even tell you."

His friend looks bewildered. He's half-turned in his seat, and his eyes stray to Gladio, then jump to Ignis, then settle back on Noctis. Whatever he's looking for, he seems to find it, because he smiles.

"Okay, weirdo," he says, "one fully-documented roadtrip, coming up. I won't leave anything out."

Noctis is counting on it.

#final fantasy xv #ffxv #chocobros #polyship roadtrip #prompto argentum #ignis scientia #gladiolus amicitia #noctis lucis caelum #my writing #prompt #owletstarlet #ffxv fic #irrelevant but i listened to willow by twsift on repeat while writing this so thats like. the vibe

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baereaved · 4 years ago

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Rogue Interview

hey lads! this interview was ripped directly from “the world of cyberpunk 2077″, the book. has a lot of great content in it and i wanted to share this.

Interviewer: Hi, Rogue. It's a real honor to meet you in person. Twenty-four hours ago I'd never have thought I'd be talking with you in old-school, face-to-face style.

Rogue: Hi... Josh, yes? I have to admit that you showed guts when you asked for that interview. I'm almost impressed, and I'm curious about how it'll come out. To be honest, if not for some... decisions I've made recently, I wouldn't have agreed to it. I have little time for journalists in my line of work. I guess it's your lucky day.

Interviewer: Thanks all the more for your time.

Rogue: Cut to the chase. You mentioned that you want to talk about my cyberpunk past. Why?

Interviewer: We're making material about the comeback of the cyberpunk style, so we thought it would be awesome if we could talk with you about that—how it was fifty years ago, what it was like being a cyberpunk back then, and how it's different from being one now.

Rogue: You've been using the word "cyberpunk" quite a lot, but you must be aware that almost no one uses that term these days, right? Even back then "merc" or "edgerunner" were more popular terms—but okay, let's talk about "being a cyberpunk". Your move, stringer.

Interviewer: Still, you're one of the icons of the cyberpunk era. That's a fact.

Rogue: Cyberpunk is a term from a different time. It's an out-of-date description of a street rebel who's fighting with some omnipotent, oppressive system. Even if I'd had such sympathies back then, I have to disappoint you. I'm not a "cyberpunk" anymore, if I ever was one.

Interviewer: But you were a cyberpunk fifty years ago, right? What was it like to be one back then in 2020?

Rogue: The same as it is to be someone on the street today. It was about your attitude, your personal style, and living your life on the edge. You had to be the coolest-looking, most dangerous guy on the street. You had to have the newest, most advanced cyberware and weapons, and you had to always look like you were ready to use them. It may sound like a cliché, but those were the basics of street reputation. Attitude was everything. It still is. If you think like a whiny asshole, you are a whiny asshole. If you think dangerous, you are dangerous. Simple laws of the street.

Interviewer: And "style over substance"?

Rogue: A catchphrase that was pushed a lot around 2020, at the height of new style. It was named "kitsch", and it was quickly adopted by cyberpunks and all other sorts of rebels. It was the street philosophy that your unique look and personal style should be your trademark. To put it simply, it doesn't matter how good you are at doing something as long as you look awesome doing it. It didn't matter if you had a cyberarm covered with expensive RealSkinn. It was your new chrome cyberarm that made you stand out from the crowd. If you can take out an entire Arasaka strike team all by yourself, you're really good—but doing it armed with a custom-made pistol while only wearing a leather armor jacket, acid-washed jeans, and mirror shades? That was something that earned you a reputation.

Interviewer: How do you feel about the return of the cyberpunk style?

Rogue: Those pink mohawks and synth-leather clothes the kids are wearing nowadays... It's mostly just imitation. Sure, back then it was about rebelling, but rebelling with a cause. It was about standing up against a corporate-dictated order, about defying authority and playing it out with style. To live on the edge, with a capital E. You wanted to be where the action was—to be the action. To do something big and never play it too safe. Youngsters today lack the vision and guts to do really big things.

Interviewer: Like the attack on the Arasaka Towers in 2023? Is it true that you were part of it?

Rogue: [brief pause] Nice try, kiddo. You're not the first newshound to ask me that question, and you won't be the first to get an answer. [laughs]

Interviewer: Sorry, I had to try. So, to rephrase the old slogan, you think that the "real" cyberpunk is dead?

Rogue: The rebel part of it? I think so, yes. Back then in 2020 it was a global movement aimed against megacorporations, but megacorporations have lost a lot of their power in the past fifty years—except for in the free cities like Night City, of course. On second thought, if cyberpunk has a chance to reconnect to its roots, it would be in a place like Night City. Maybe there's hope for second-wave cyberpunks after all.

Interviewer: So, what would be your advice for all those people aspiring to be a cyberpunk?

Rogue: Grow a spine; stop waiting for opportunity and go looking for it.

Interviewer: Touché. Speaking of opportunity, I'd like to ask you a few quick questions about your personal experience as a cyberpunk—or edgerunner, if you prefer that term.

Rogue: We can stay with cyberpunk. It suits you. And I think we have a few minutes left. Hit it.

Interviewer: So, a cyberpunk's gun: a trademark or a tool?

Rogue: It's a matter of personal taste and philosophy. Yes, the weapon can be your trademark. In this business you'll develop personal preferences, so in time you should get the gun that fits you. I have customized pistols myself based on the Tsunami Nue. We went through a lot together. On the other hand, if you want to be a top-tier merc, you have to be as effective with your favorite toy as you are without it. Again, "style over substance". You look cool when you're wasting some boostergang guys with your custom-made Malorian Arms pistol, but wasting them using any weapon that happens to be around is a style in itself. Nowadays, when everyone relies on their favorite guns, improvisation is a forgotten art.

Interviewer: How much does one need to modify themselves to be in the top tier?

Rogue: That's something that everyone needs to determine for themselves, but for me quality is key. No one will hire you for a serious job if you lack proper modifications, and to be a step ahead you need the best cyberimplants you can get. To be a cyberpunk is to chase all the newest enhancements—be they cyber or bioengineered—to get the edge over your enemies and your peers. The choice of enhancements is only limited by your contacts on the street and the size of your wallet, but it should fit your personal taste. Juggernaut, ninja, or ghost approach—it doesn't matter, as long as you're efficient with it and get the job done. But if you can't plan, and you can't execute a job properly, no amount of cyberware will help you get to the top tier.

Interviewer: How much does one need to sell out to the corpos to get to the top tier?

Rogue: [longer pause] Dealing with the corporations has always been akin to bargaining with the devil... Most cyberpunks and edgerunners won't even be aware that they've taken a job from a fixer who's under corporate contract. Those jobs could be anything at all that the corpos want to avoid a direct connection with—like planting a bug, or stealing some data, or assassinating a seemingly unassuming guy, or organizing a heist on an armed convoy. If you're good enough, they'll contact you again via fixer to hire you for more lucrative assignments. That's the tricky part. The money is really good and they can grant you access to really top-notch, restricted cyberware, but if you go for it... they own you. Moreover, if you learn too many corporate secrets, you're in for life—and that could be a very short time if someone in the corporation decides that their list of freelancers needs to be purged for "security reasons".

Interviewer: Do you need friends in this kind of business?

Rogue: Sure. It's good to have someone to cover your back during a firefight, but never go on an assignment with someone that you don't trust, unless the stakes are worth it—or you're ready to take them out if you have to. Even if you trust someone, you have to keep in mind that every partnership ends sooner or later, one way or another. They get killed, go cyberpsychotic, or maybe you just go different ways. True camaraderie is a rare thing in this kind of work. Too many strong personalities and divergent goals. Too much rivalry. Friendship... has its price. It can be a burden. Doing pals favors for old times' sake can lead to messy situations.

Interviewer: Sounds like you know something about it.

Rogue: You can bet on that.

Interviewer: Do you have someone specific in mind?

Rogue: No comment.

Interviewer: Why did you become a fixer?

Rogue: It was kind of a natural transition for me. It's like becoming a coach after ending your career as a ball player. You don't have to compete with younger and more aggressive contenders, and you can still use your expertise and your reputation to make money and stay in touch with the mercenary community.

Interviewer: There were some rumors that your shifting sectors had something to do with you disassembling the Atlantis Group. Can you confirm or deny that?

Rogue: Old story, mostly untrue. It seems to me that some of the guys from Atlantis Bar couldn't bear that times had changed and I had to move on. We all had to. You can't rebel all your life. Yes, I had access to some juicy contracts, and I was willing to share them with some of my friends from the Atlantis Group mercenary branch. Yes, some of us made good money on them, and a few guys decided to retire. If that means I "disassembled" a group of ex-rebels, then I'm guilty as charged.

Interviewer: And finally: do you miss your mercenary days?

Rogue: Sometimes I miss the action, and the thrill of a good challenge. But I am damn good at what I do now, so I regret nothing.

Interviewer: And that's an excellent wrap-up. Thanks for the interview, Rogue.

Rogue: Thanks, Josh. Despite my initial doubts, that was quite an... interesting conversation. Be sure to publish this as it is. Or I'll find out where you live. [laughs]

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #cp 2077 #rogue amendiares #crane rambles #she's so sweet and so soft and so good i'm gonna DIE

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jasontoddiefor · 5 years ago

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Summary: Post-OT New Jedi Order but Ezra Bridger/Cal Kestis/Galen Marek/Luke Skywalker ft. the “Are we married?” discussion

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Ezra slowly made his way into the kitchen. He was by no means somebody who slept in, being a rebel and living on the streets had taught him to get rid of that habit, but his partners were all up even earlier than him. Luke was used to rising hours before the sun, and oftentimes could be found already sitting at his desk with a cup of tea, checking reports, and waiting for the rest of them to rise. His ‘freaking Tatooine habits’, as Galen called them hadn’t disappeared even after all these years. Cal on the other hand enjoyed morning meditation and Galen preferred to run through his katas while the skies were still dark.

By the time Ezra usually made it to the breakfast table, the other three had already been up for an hour at least. He stretched when he stepped through the door and on his way to the kaf machine he let Galen pull him into a soft and slow kiss.

“You have morning breath,” Galen muttered against his lips, causing Luke to snort while Cal hummed in amusement.

“Very funny,” Ezra replied and sat down next to Cal, half his breakfast already assembled on his plate.

The great thing about being in a relationship with other Force-sensitive people was how good of a team it made them. Routines and exchanges between them were more fluid than water, hardly needing a word at times.

The not-so-great thing about being with other Force-sensitives was that you didn’t always need to have every conversation explicitly in the same way you needed to with other people. Thoughts, emotions, impressions could be simply shared in a much more intimate matter. Ezra has thought of it as only beneficial at first - it made fighting side by side and coming to an agreement easier. However, unfortunately, that also meant that they tended to skip talking about some topics, assuming that they had already shared all thoughts on the matter.

Ezra’s last trip away from Yavin had taught him better.

The issue had come up before, of course. Luke and Galen’s screaming match about Vader hadn’t been pretty. Cal and he had been running interference for a whole week before they had all been able to sit down together again.

After this, however, Ezra had assumed he knew what topics they usually tended to omit. One rather awkward conversation later, Ezra had been left with a question he couldn’t answer himself.

Ezra took another spoonful of jam out of the glass before he decided to speak up.

“Are we married?”

A brief silence followed Ezra’s question before his lovers answered more or less at the same time.

Cal only managed to choke out a “What?” in-between drinking his tea while Galen only replied with “No, do you want to?” and bit in his bread.

Luke, as the only one, continued warming his hands at his cup and answered with a soft, but certain “Yes.”

Perhaps Ezra shouldn’t have asked this question at the breakfast table, but they had a rather busy day ahead of them. Galen and Cal were heading off to explore a Sith temple, Luke had to talk to the Senators arriving today and Ezra had students to teach.

“What do you mean ‘yes’?” Cal asked Luke, still looking a little caught off-guard. Ezra would feel a little guilty if not for the fact that Cal looked incredibly cute with his hair still a mess and only half his robes assembled.

Galen steadily refused to wear traditional Jedi robes and Ezra couldn’t quite make himself comfortable in them either, but Luke liked them, even if they were slightly modified to suit his taste, while Cal looked right at home in them.

“We share a bed,” Luke said slowly, counting on his fingers. “And a table and a household and we love each other. That’s pretty much what constitutes as a marriage, is it not?”

Ezra had never put too much thought into what a marriage looked like. He had his ever-fading memories of his parents, of Hera and Kanan and found that he agreed with the blond. They were pretty much married, even if they had never exchanged any vows. Ezra wasn’t sure if he even wanted to have a fancy ceremony or the like. Leia and Han’s wedding had been a grand event, it had to be with Leia being New Alderaan’s reigning monarch, and it had been fun, but Ezra didn’t think it suited the four of them. As open as they were, they were all also so used to living more in the shadows, to having their privacy. Galen and Cal even more so than Luke and Ezra.

“Well, yes, I suppose…” Cal frowned. “Wait, how long have you been considering us to be married then?”

Now Luke did look a little pink. “Well, some time.”

“Three years.”

The three of them turned to look at Galen, who was grinning downright mischievously. “You’ve been thinking of us as married for a minimum of three years. That trip to Naboo…“

Oh, yeah. That trip. It had been fun, all in all. They had gone there to talk to the current Queen of Naboo and meet the cousins Luke hadn’t known he had. And then they had taken a very long and very pleasant vacation during which Ezra had spent more time in bed than out of it. It could probably constitute as a honeymoon.

“Does it really matter how long I thought so?” Luke asked.

“Of course, it does,” Ezra replied. “That’s like three anniversaries we have to make up for.”

To Ezra’s understanding, wedding anniversaries were celebrated with dinner, a fun date and an even more entertaining night, and if they had three to make up for, even better.

“Good thinking,” Galen remarked and grabbed another fruit out of the bowl on the table. “But back to the topic at hand. Since we’re apparently all married, should we fill out some sort of paperwork?”

“I don’t see how that’s necessary-“

“Do we have to? And who do we even tell-“

“Can we back up a little?”

The three of them turned to look at Cal. He didn’t look overwhelmed or displeased, but there was something reluctant to his posture. He nervously ran his hand through his hair, straightened it out a little, then placed his hands on the table.

“Ezra, why did you even ask if we are married?”

Since everybody had jumped into the discussion so quickly, he hadn’t even had the chance to explain.

“On my last trip I talked to a family and they asked a lot of questions about what we think the Order’s role should be in the future. We’re not many right now, but more and more people are coming to Yavin every year, every month and they didn’t understand what it meant to be trained in the Force, to simply have it and be able to trust it.”

Ezra tightened his hand to a fist until his nails dug into his palm, then he relaxed it again. There had only been three times that Ezra could remember being deprived of the Force. The world had dulled to the simplest senses, had been colored in tones of gray or so it seemed. The whole experience had left him feeling hollow on the inside as if his mind had been frozen in ice. Being one with the Force was like breathing fresh air after weeks in space, the warmth of the sun on his face, and the adoration he felt when he was surrounded by the people he loved, his family.

“So I talked about what we do and I talked about us. And the family, the mother especially…” Ezra smiled. “When I finished talking, she just congratulated me on having such sweet husbands and I just rolled with it. It just fit better than saying ‘oh, yeah, I love my boyfriends very much’. We’re not exactly sixteen-year-old teenagers.”

Boyfriends had sounded so juvenile and somehow didn’t really account for all the things they’d been through together. Boyfriends didn’t make it out of Imperial torture together, or explored Sith temples or tried to resurrect an entire faith when only one of them had ever really grown up in the Jedi Order.

“So, it’s practicality?” Cal questioned further, now leaning back in his chair with an unreadable expression.

Ezra wanted to pull him close, to close his eyes and simply listen to what he felt and wanted. Out of the four of them, Cal was the least open when it came to connecting on such a level. Luke could hardly be stopped from projecting his emotions, Galen preferred at least semi-awareness and the reassurance of safety that came with it. Perhaps he also desired the connections because they tethered him to this world and the here-and-now so that he did not get lost in space, reaching for the final answer to his origins. Ezra wasn’t opposed to mingling his mind with the others either, they felt like home and he didn’t want to miss it. He was the one who traveled the most, searching for potential students and running missions for the Alliance. He couldn’t always just call home via the comms, but he could reach for them in the Force. Cal, however, pulled away sometimes. He didn’t say why, if it had anything to do with his childhood, of feeling thousands of Jedi die at once, hiding from the Inquisitors for years- Ezra could think of many reasons, but when they all talked, it was usually because of Cal.

“Yes- no-“ Ezra sighed. “I don’t know. The thought just wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“Do you want to get properly married?” Galen repeated his question from before.

“Do you?” Ezra asked back.

“I don’t need to, I already have you three and don’t need a ceremony to strengthen that belief. And Luke-“ Galen pulled Luke’s prosthetic hand away from his cup, tracing over lines where beneath synth-skin, wires let Luke feel every touch. “-already thought we were married. So I guess it’s down to you two.”

“I don’t mind being as we are now,” Cal spoke up again. “I’ll be honest, it didn’t even occur to me that we could get married. Jedi didn’t used to and as Galen said, I don’t need a ceremony either. But I think I do want to call you my husbands.”

Cal smiled kindly and then, quicker than Luke could react, snatched a piece of fruit from his plate, earning himself a mock-glare. “It’s more fitting, as you said. I’m a forty-five-year-old man and we’ve been on the edge of life and death often enough together that I think we’ll be united in this life and in the Force.”

So that was it then.

Ezra was married and had a class to teach in thirty minutes and he was married and he had been for years and nobody of his extended family knew. Or maybe they did, Jacen didn’t only call Ezra “Uncle” after all.

“Sabine’s either going to be pissed when I tell her or start laughing,” Ezra mused, trying to imagine her reaction.

“Well, can’t be worse than Leia,” Luke joked only to freeze a moment later. “Oh, Leia. She’s going to kill me for sure.”

“Don’t worry,” Ezra laughed as Cal kissed their pouting husband and Galen supportively put an arm around his shoulder. “We’ll ensure temple life goes on even without you.”

And life continued.

#star wars #Luke Skywalker #ezra bridger #cal ketsis #galen marek #there that's what im tagging this now #fanfic #new jedi order husbands

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hospitalterrorizer · 1 year ago

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diary101

12/22-23/2023

friday - saturday

waiting for ableton to open

now i'm waiting for it to close because i worked on that one song again. i think the right channel and drums are perfect now, we'll see about bass but i think i've got that right as well, left channel guitar might need some work, and the vocals could be a little louder. overall though i'm really happy with it right now, which restores some confidence in getting the more hardcore songs a lot closer to "right".

i've also done some reading while waiting for stuff to happen.

i think the first runs counter to my read that the young girl doesn't actually necessitate a cult of wellness but i think another quotation i have here offers a way through that. i think it's interesting the role wellness culture plays of course but i also think that it obviously changes and permeates all things in strange ways. it escapes more overt body fascism and becomes a surface-level (greater than it already was) force, you can see this re: the way body positive models are done up in the same ways, same kind of 'youthful' makeup, dewy skin, it's an aesthetic system one must submit to. this explains then why so many people are actually very messy in their personal lives/have horrific rooms, the wellness stops somewhere and that is part of the design/what wellness is conceived as, the failure to take care of oneself in certain ways gets absorbed into wellness, at this current stage, as self care. this only matters to me really because thinking re: the young-boy stuff, they are still within this framework, it really does not escape this analysis or justify its own separation/the way it creates the young girl as a category. i think the most interesting quote is the last one though, about the body being desired as an abstraction, to not have to contend with it 'actually,' this maybe gets at an interesting critique you could do of this, at the same rate though this is an impossible to ignore reality, to turn the body into the image of what you've seen before. but this is something we are all guilty of. it still feels impossible to me say that people being able to transform their bodies in some self-directed way isn't empowering. it is however only when that collides with full awareness of the body, i think. when you cannot escape the fact of its abjection and so on, and that you are 'lowered' to the level of the body, lowered being used as the issue raised by tiqqun is one of wanting to escape embodiment, and instead replace that issue with one of being something which had existed, and had already been agreed upon by hungry eyes.

this is the quote that made me think that wellness as the totalizing cult in the book is argued against by itself, as this methodology spreads to all people, and they are all made to submit to/made to feel they may submit when in actuality there is no choice (but the illusion is profound).

and i think these ones mostly correlate to the above. tonight feels very focused in that way i guess, in what i'm absorbing/analyzing from the work.

i just read an interview with the hellp. very funny, i like how like, pointedly they're trying to be better than everybody, that's part of the imagine/pose/spectacle they want to conjure, the interviews are total mythmaking, so classically rockstar-y. another fun thing is the idea that they could change everything by being on jimmy kimmel. they want to save the world with art. it's admirable maybe half-way. or maybe a lot, the pretension is a little exciting. i think their point re: no one making electronic music like them rn is interesting. they are absolutely amazing live, that's undeniable, but lots of people have been making synth punk, basically, roughly, their rise is because noah is at least pretty well connected, his role as like, a photographer that's like, actually changed things / created a trend, gives him a lot of cache in certain places. i do think soundcloud people are certainly moving towards more rock-y sounds. it bites as someone that's been trying to fuck w/ that always but whatever, i've also always been trying at more annoying things than what they do. half the stuff i was doing while forming my abilities can probably be described as "nonmusic" in ways.

it's also funny how aware they are about what being successful really entails, "800 kids could make better music than us. but it's not cool because it doesn't come from us." which is apt basically. they have cache/appearance/are able to appear outside enough to work their way back in. i love them, because i think they know how stupid that is, and they also want people to become cool. what becoming cool means seems to be, by their judgment, being skinny, sexy, and kind of self destructive (look at the above quotations to see what this means about them (the hellp are the ultimate young girls making music right now (and they know it and they want out (and wanting out entails more of the same and they wish it didn't)))).

anyway, other than that, idk.

i found an artist tonight on flickr:

look at these very cute prints:

they're very perfect bits of kawaii/cheap (looking) pop art, in that really exciting way, trashy and sweet, a mess.

i had some kind of interesting thought earlier, actually (also totally fucking up my fixed sleep schedule right now but whatever (also the thought is only interesting to me(probably))). but reading the young girl, they make mention of beauty on the inside at some point, and i thought about how online, as we write our thoughts/bleed our minds / act as though we are bleeding our minds / materializing our souls as true instances of our selves online in posting, the status of inner beauty becomes mechanized/written under purview of the spectacle (more than it already had been (or maybe not more, just easier to read)) this also connects well w/ kristeva and semanalysis, it reminds me of my points re: how algorithms/data sorting reads posts and weighs them/tags them. this thought deserves more thought, than when i am tired like i am rn, from numerous things. i feel like if i say this, the pin i put in it might be remembered, i hope so certainly.

anyway i am soo sleepy so:

byebye!!!!!!!!

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troddensodden · 4 years ago

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2 & 6 for ur fallout ocs? :3

oh man! this took a while. and i was considering including my synth oc, but im still kinda working on fleshing him out and soooo it was too difficult anyway lets go

(answers below the cut)

2-- "Does your character have any noteworthy features? Freckles? Dimples? A scar somewhere unusual? etc."

cedric (fo4): freckles!!! hancock likes to tease him about them (preston quite likes them too. his boyfriends all do, actually, but !!!) also he definitely does have a few scars, mostly on his arms and torso from combat, both in the wasteland and the military, which is to be expected. none that are particularly special. one going across his mouth, from a fight that he cant quite remember. and one that he does remember, vividly, is a radiation-caused burn scar in and around his left eye. he hasn't been able to use that eye ever since. generally, he gets injured quite easily, but this is mostly bruises rather than scars (mostly due to a deficiency of vitamins.) he bruises like a ripened peach.

emil (fnv): they do have dimples, actually! and a light speckling of freckles. they dont like how it looks, though, so they cover it up when possible. luckily the dimples are only visible when smiling, and the freckles are only really easy to see when they get a lot of sun exposure, so these markings dont really take away from their "intimidating" appearance. definitely more scars than the other ocs, though they cant remember where any of the scars came from. a few on their face, but mostly all over their body. one that always stuck out to them was one that is almost a perfect ring, going all around their neck. additionally, one of their gauges was ripped out in a fight, and so their ear ripped entirely.

———

6-- "If you were to pick one song – and only one song – to describe your character, what would it be and why?"

man this one is a bit difficult but uh, lets give it a shot

cedric: "a sadness runs through him" - the hoosiers; "all our bruised bodies and the whole heart shrinks" - la dispute

hes been through a lot. he really has, over the past two-hundred-something years. his wife died, he lost his child, he was suddenly thrust years into the future with little to no preparation. it isnt easy. and as much as he wants to think, "it made me stronger," its hard not to want to go back. back to when everything was normal, easier. because sometimes he feels like even if it did make him stronger, it also made him emptier. he still feels sympathy for people, but hed never even considered being able to kill someone before, and now suddenly its a constant in his life. he used to look forward to seeing shaun, the light of his life, grow into a man. and now... everything has disappointed him. he didnt want the future to be this way. times have changed, he has changed. and he hates it.

emil: "saint bernard" - lincoln; "sex hat keine macht" - oomph!

theyve always struggled with truly baring themself to someone. partially because they find it unimportant, but also because theyre afraid. so instead their free time is full of drunken hookups and taking advantage of people. they used to feel guilty, but they struggle to anymore. "i lived through it, so can they," is essentially their thought process. as much as they know its wrong, they cant help but defend it in their own mind, that theyve gone through the same thing and it made them stronger. theyre just making those folks stronger, yeah?

again, they know its wrong. but it helps them get through their life, and thats already hard enough, without worrying about others feelings. theyve disappointed enough people, whats a few more? they already arent going to heaven, whats the point anymore?

#fallout #fallout 4 #fallout new vegas #oc ask #fallout oc #again this was very long i didnt intend it though

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lhs3020b · 4 years ago

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Some thoughts on Blind Betrayal

I’ve decided to make myself finish the actual plot of Fallout 4, at least once, so I guess I can stop feeling vaguely-guilty for using it largely as a luxury house-building simulator. With that in mind...

... I seem to have wandered onto the Brotherhood storyline this time. This character doesn’t seem to particularly-like the BoS, but on the other hand, they also don’t really believe that the Railroad are powerful enough to be any use. They also don’t actually have a problem with synths - they get on fine with Nick, and were happy enough for Curie to be decanted into G5′s body - but they do have a big problem with the Institute abducting and murdering people and want that to stop. Plus, while they probably wouldn’t quite admit this in as many words, they find the BoS somewhat reminiscent of the pre-War military, so it is at least a little bit familiar (and that isn’t true of much else in the post-apocalyptic world). They also don’t really believe that Father is who they say they are (which, actually, may be a possibility even in-world - as far as I know Shaun never really gives us any definite proof that he’s telling the truth, and the Institute’s MO is swapping people for fakes, so...)

Needless to say, I can only barely represent any of this through the in-game dialogue options, though I do want I can.

Anyway, tonight we went through Blind Betrayal, actually for the first time ever. I had a broad idea of what was coming - I’m well-spoiled at least on broad plot-strokes - but emotionally, it was a rough ride. Fanatic!Maxxon, angry!Halen, Danse in self-sacrifice mode ... yeah, it was a journey. Fortunately I was able to get a reasonably non-terrible end result (Danse is still alive, albeit perma-relocated to the bunker Up North). Maxxon is not happy, but honestly, who cares?

I think what this particular quest is for is that it’s meant to give you emotional permission to turn traitor on the BoS if you wanted to - basically it’s a similar role to the infamous Horizon conversation from Mass Effect 2, which to some extent seems to be meant to “reset” the love interest situation for Shepard. (How well it does that ... well, I think we all have our views on the structure and efficacy of that conversation, don’t we?)

There is a fair bit in Blind Betrayal that doesn’t quite make sense. When exactly did Danse get switched for a synth? Is he an escaped synth who’d had a mind-wipe, found their way to the Capital Wasteland, and then joined the Brotherhood? Did he get swapped sometime after arrival in Boston? Or - and here’s a paranoiac possibility - what if it’s all lies? Perhaps the Institute’s sys-admins detected Ingram’s bug when it entered their network, and fed it some false data? What better way is there to disrupt an enemy organisation then to start a witch-hunt against its own members? (I didn’t shoot Danse, so I haven’t seen whether he drops a synth component or not.)

Danse running from the Brotherhood is surprising, but not inexplicable. He has, after all, had the sort of news that gives people nervous breakdowns, and weird-sudden-odd personality-changes are a very typical nervous breakdown symptom. The rather-odd bit is him dumping his power armour - first of all this presumably means he had to “borrow” a Vertibird to get off of the Prydwen and secondly it also means he ran all the way across the Commonwealth in his undies.

(I do hope there was Benny Hill music; let’s be honest, it’s a scene that needs Benny Hill music!)

There’s also the unaddressed oddity of how he was suddenly on the Prydwen. When Blind Betrayal started, I’d actually parked him at Sanctuary. He must presumably have left Sanctuary for whatever reason, and just happened to be on board the Prydwen when Quinlan’s investigation turned up it’s little nugget, and, and, and ... Suffice to say none of this was addressed in-game. I can understand the practical difficulties involved - he could have been parked at any one of dozens of settlements, or even possibly in Far Harbor or Nuka World at the start of Blind Betrayal, and that would likely be a nightmare to code for. But some sort of dialogue-explanation would have been nice.

Another thing I’m noting is the general tone of the storyline. As it gets further down the BoS arc, it feels darker. The Railroad are apparently next on the menu - this character hasn’t really met them, so has no strong opinions on them, but for me it’s certainly going to be A Moment. This, I think, is one of the reasons I’ve always wandered off from the main plot of Fallout 4 - once you get past wiping out Kellogg, there’s not really any sense that anything “good” is on the way, so it’s hard to stay motivated.

#Fallout 4 #LHS plays not-so-new games

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concussed-to-pieces · 4 years ago

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The Mettle Of A Man; Part Eighteen

Fandom: Fallout (4)

Pairing: Eventual Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Happy holidays, everyone! A little something to occupy your time this fine evening. Tagging @anonymouscosmos, @culturalrebel, @mercy-and-malice, @deepkittycollecto, @nelba, @mechanicalism and @commandershepardshtole. Enjoy!

Part One: ArcJet

Part Two: The Prydwen

Part Three: Orders

Part Four: Finding Brandis

Part Five: Weston Water And Oberland

Part Six: Meeting Preston And Matthew

Part Seven: Radstag And Radstorm

Part Eight: The Return To Sanctuary Hills

Part Nine: Domestic Ruminations

Part Ten: Institutionalized

Part Eleven: Two Weeks, Three Days

Part Twelve: Haylen’s Warning And The Glowing Sea

Part Thirteen: Under Fire

Part Fourteen: Dichotomy

Part Fifteen: The Litany Trial

Part Sixteen: Nice Try

Part Seventeen: Preparations

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains depictions of violence, emotional distress and child endangerment. Stay safe!]

The map on the table was worn and tattered, held in place by a few books and one large glass disc commonly used for magnifying purposes. Backhand paced to and fro, mentally going over her list of resources. Flanking her were Danse and Preston, the latter having graciously accepted an in-person invitation to their final strategy meeting. Her lieutenant's ability to remain levelheaded was, as ever, a relief to Vega. Not that Danse wasn't levelheaded, but she felt guilty about how much she had grown to expect of him. It would be much simpler to divide their workload if the three of them worked together.

Further over to the right stood Sturges, the man sandwiched in between Ingram and Li while he fidgeted with his goggles. This was no small task they were attempting and everyone was at least slightly nervous.

Elder Brandis cleared his throat pointedly. "Alright General, let's hear it."

Vega straightened up, coming to rest her palms on the ragged edge of the map on the desk in front of her. "We will be performing this op primarily with Minuteman troops. Brotherhood are enforcers and medical operations. We only engage hostiles as a last resort. We are sticking to the plan." She announced firmly. "Preston, Sturges and Nick will take Charlie squadron and work to recalibrate the mainframe. Delta squadron is with Danse, they'll secure the exit tunnel." Backhand gestured at the large paladin, who nodded. "Once Alpha squadron breaches their defenses, Delta squadron will be in charge of locating Liam and his group. He's promised to have the willing synths in a secured location, and he'll be awaiting further orders."

"Those are Delta squadron's official orders, General?" Danse asked, seeming to desire some sort of final confirmation. Deep down, Backhand hoped they weren't all making a terrible mistake sending him into the Institute.

"You're our main line of defense when it comes to that tunnel. I want you on high alert, but only engage if there is no recourse."

"Understood, General." Danse saluted her.

"Elder Brandis, you will be down at the staging area beneath the Prydwen with Pride squadron and Liberty Prime. You will be overseeing our operations on that end since I will be in the field with Alpha squadron." Backhand continued, chuckling when Brandis huffed.

"Oh certainly, stuff me into the supervisory role." The former paladin complained good-naturedly, already well-aware that his place was with the Prydwen.

"Beta will be staying over here by the teleporter platform," Backhand used her sheathed knife to indicate the area on their gridded map, just beneath the Prydwen. "We'll have the triage station there. This includes Curie, Scribe Haylen, Scribe Neriah and Knight Rhys for support." She then clicked her radio handset twice. "Echo, that is, MacCready, John D. and Lancer-Captain Kells, you're on long range and aerial securing Bunker Hill. I'm sure that if the Institute does decide to muster any sort of counter-attack, that and the Prydwen will be their main targets."

" Man oh man, this is pretty legit ," Deacon's voice crackled over her radio. " Never thought we'd be takin' the fight to these bastards. Nobody pinch me. "

"The Atom Cats crew will be at the Castle with Cait and a small cadre of Minutemen dubbed Foxtrot squadron, holding their position and shoring up any weaker areas. I'm counting on that being the Institute's third target. That's our radio tower and hub of operations. So Zeke , I'm depending on you to work together with the troops there. Keep my people safe." Vega said firmly into her handset.

" Hey alley cat, your people are my people, and Zeke always takes care of his people ." The greaser stated, his words drawling lazily through the speaker. " You just take care of my man Sturges, you feel me? He's a vital part of the Atom Cats. If I hear that he died because of some Institute square , my jimmies will be severely rustled ."

Sturges rolled his eyes. "I'll be fine , Zeke. Just keep up your end of the bargain."

" Roger that, cool cat ."

"Goodneighbor is still on standby for aid, and they will be observing Diamond City for any disturbances." Vega had barely gotten the chance to mention them before Hancock's rough voice was piping up out of the speaker.

" No way the Institute would be dumb enough to fuck with Diamond City ," he growled, " and if they are...well, there's plenty of us in Goodneighbor that got a bone to pick, ya' feel me? The boys of Golf squadron are prepped for a brawl ."

"There will be at least one of John's operatives staged with every squadron aside from Delta. Listen to them . I don't want any unnecessary loss of life here." The General of the Minutemen ordered. "Generation threes are indistinguishable from humans. Do not engage them unless there is no other choice. These are not soldiers. These are scientists and scared maintenance workers. With that being said, if you encounter coursers sing out with your position. I want to try and maintain eyes on them whenever we can."

"They are extremely effective and deadly combatants. You'll know them by their black gear. General Vega is the only one thus far who has survived any sort of tussle with them." Preston supplied, his words no-nonsense. "We do not want to engage them head on, but we only have a limited number of EMP grenades. So we gotta' be careful."

"That's why I'm countin' on you an' the detective to watch my back, boss." Sturges grinned at Preston. "It'll be a hell of a struggle hackin' into their mainframe an' such if they're tryin' to slice and dice us."

"Nick and I will do our best, but I believe it would be a smart choice for you to act real fast." Garvey said pragmatically. "After all, the Institute will have the advantage of numbers on their side."

"You'll all be under a time crunch once that reactor begins to melt down. Emergency relays will fire off shortly after that, so that's when everyone will have to be on their toes." Doctor Li mused. "Hopefully they don't think we would be dumb enough to actually go through with this plan and we'll get the drop on them."

"Fingers crossed, at any rate." Ingram chimed in, cracking her knuckles in her gauntlets.

"Last call to back out." Backhand announced across every frequency, "there's no shame in asking for a reassignment or to sit this operation out. We can always move things around."

" Pretty sure I speak for everyone when I say, fuck that ." Hancock rasped. " We're with you, General Sunshine. To the bitter end, and some of us even after that. "

" Yeah, gotta' say I'm throwin' my hat in with the freak show. " Deacon agreed, and Backhand could practically hear him winking behind those ridiculous sunglasses. " What's the fun of uninviting yourself to a party, after all? "

God, this was really happening. Vega felt nerves tighten her hands into fists as more and more voices came over the secure channels, more and more confirmations that she had a legitimate army at her disposal.

A large gauntlet gently brushed her hand, mechanical fingers toying with the lucky bandanna wrapped around her wrist. "Awaiting your command, General." Danse murmured when she turned to look at him for reassurance, the paladin giving her a stern nod.

Awaiting your command, General .

Elder Brandis straightened up, clasping his hands behind his back. "Alright, everyone get to your positions. Proctor, I believe you have a giant to awaken."

"Let's get to it, people!" Danse boomed, a boyish grin tugging at the corner of his mouth for a moment. Soldier to the end .

Everyone filed out of the room, Preston lingering awkwardly before he extended his hand to Elizabeth. "I need you to know that no matter what happens, I'm damn glad to have met you." He stated, laughing when Vega hauled him into a hug. "I'll see you on the other side, alright General?"

"Thank you so much, Preston. For everything." Backhand mumbled into his shoulder. Preston hugged her back tightly, then pulled away.

"It's the Commonwealth way, General. You'd know that better than anyone." The young man reminded her kindly, helping to straighten out her worn army helmet. "Now c'mon. Can't have you falling behind on your date with destiny. Still got that lucky bandanna?"

"Always." Vega said, tapping the cloth on her wrist.

"Good. We can use all the help we can get." Preston opened the door to the observation deck. Vega felt suddenly like her boots were made of cement, and she turned to look back at Danse one last time. The armored man appeared engrossed in whatever Brandis was saying to him, his helmet still tucked beneath his arm.

"Danse!" Vega called before she could think better of it, and the paladin jolted, looking up. "Take care, okay?"

"Ad Victoriam, General." Danse replied with a sharp salute, those brown eyes seeming too forlorn for someone who was merely wishing a contemporary good luck.

Backhand didn't dare dwell on it, instead turning on her heel and scrolling to the option to relay on her Pip Boy. The last thing she saw before relaying was the half-destroyed skyline of Boston, and her eyes narrowed in determination. So much had already been taken from her, what was denying herself one more thing?

The now-familiar crackle of energy met her ears as she teleported into the Institute for the final time. Sure steps led her to the control panel across from the teleporter, and steady hands fed the holotape into the slot beneath the screen.

'Institute relay targeting sequence' holotape accepted , the screen announced. Initiate remote relay sequence?

Backhand took a deep breath, her index finger hovering over the 'enter' key. All her conversations with 'Father', with X6, with the scientists and doctors and maintenance synths…

Was she really about to throw all of that away?

The woman shook her head at herself after a second. She could justify it later. Right now, she needed to be the one who could make the hard choices.

She pressed the key.

...

It was organized chaos at best.

Paladin Logan Danse, pride of the Brotherhood of Steel, continued to wave the shell-shocked synths on into the tunnel. He could dimly hear the sounds of booming musket artillery, which indicated that the main contingent of Delta squadron's Minutemen had encountered resistance. It was only a matter of time before their escape route was discovered, unless the Minutemen could hold them off.

Did they even need to, though? If the synths that wished to voluntarily escape had already done so…

Danse shook his head at himself. No . Everyone deserved the opportunity to flee from this technological tomb. Whether they took it or not was their own choice, but it was a choice .

The ground was littered with the plasticine remains of the guards that had been stationed by the tunnel. Their programming was so thorough that they could not be reasoned with, and Delta squadron had made swift work of them. Danse's stomach churned with unease as he assisted his troops, but he had carried on doggedly to complete their objective.

Liam indicated with a nod that the synth who had limped past them was the last of his little group. "I don't know how I can repay you-" he began to say tearfully, extending a hand. A laser ricocheted off the wall, tagging his shoulder and knocking him backwards.

Danse whirled, spotting the distant forms of a cabal of coursers storming their location. It seemed that the Institute had broken through their line of defense. Their only saving grace at the moment was just how long the hallway was. "The blast doors, can you close them?" He frantically barked at Liam, who was staring at his bloodied shoulder in silent shock. The younger man shook himself after a moment, all but toppling against the terminal mounted on the wall.

Danse lumbered in front of him, functioning as a shield while the young man worked feverishly. Doors began closing behind the coursers and Liam cursed under his breath, maneuvering into a different menu. With an almighty groan, the blast doors guarding the tunnel entrance began to close sluggishly. Then, the security doors leading to the hall also creaked to life.

"Go, your friends will need a familiar face." Danse ordered as Liam turned to him. "I'll maintain our position here." Lasers scorched off the walls overhead, and another bolt skittered along the ground while Liam just... stared up at him. " Go , soldier!" Danse demanded.

"Rip the terminal out, okay? Otherwise they might reverse it." Liam requested shakily, cupping the graze on his shoulder and then fleeing into the tunnel.

Rip the terminal out . Danse's massive gauntlet pulverized the machine, but he did tear it off the wall for good measure before returning to his bulwark position in front of the doors.

Some of the coursers had either peeled off from the group or cloaked themselves. That might prove troublesome. But the doorway was ever so slowly closing, and their chances of actually reaching him grew more and more slim. They seemed to realize this, as their fire came more frequently and aimed even more poorly than before.

Suddenly, so suddenly that Danse wondered if he was seeing things for a split-second, a small child came barreling out of one of the intersecting tunnels, barely ahead of the mob. The little boy tripped and nearly fell, screaming at Danse, "wait, please! Don't leave me here!"

If the security doors would stop the coursers they would absolutely stop this child, and God only knew what the coursers would do to the child. Danse's arm shot out before he could think about it and the door hit the side of his pauldron with a teeth-rattling shriek of metal, slowing the already tepid advance. Bracing his thigh and upper arm against the door, Danse stepped into the hallway, closer to the coursers, his free hand outstretched to seize the boy the moment he was within reach. He didn't dare try to thin the herd at this proximity, God forbid a shot bounce off the wall and strike the child-

His pauldron creaked audibly under the strain of holding the door open as the child flung himself into Danse's grip, and the paladin quickly withdrew into the small room behind him. The blast doors slammed shut and for a moment, everything was blissfully silent. Danse was vaguely reminded of he and Backhand's close call with the elevator, just resting most of his weight against the wall as he tried to process whatever the hell had just happened.

Then, "Th-Thanks!" the child panted, his entire body trembling from his close call. "Have you seen my mom, mister?" Danse cocked his head, bewildered. The child was maybe ten years old, his mop of dark brown curls matted to his forehead from the sweat of his wild sprint. Something about his eyes caught Danse's attention, though. They were startlingly blue, icy . Familiar. "She's got blue eyes n' freckles like me, and funny white marks on her face, right here!" The boy continued while indicating at his left temple. He drew a quick line from the top of his face to the bottom, ending at his chin.

Danse's chest went tight.

Elizabeth . This...was this Shaun? Had she been lied to? Or was this one last trick up the Institute's sleeve? She had mentioned getting duped by a child synth during her first visit. Was this the false child? Well, no more a false child than he was a false man, he corrected himself hurriedly.

"You need to come with me." The paladin said finally, extending his gauntlet to the child and beckoning for him to follow. "It's not safe here."

"Okay." The little boy actually took hold of his gauntlet, tiny hand wrapped around one large finger. "My name's Shaun. What's your name?"

Shaun . "Danse."

"Father said my mom would be comin' for me, but I already knew that. My mom is super tough, and she's not scared of anythin'!" Shaun prattled cheerily at him as they made their way to the spiral ramp upwards. "He gave me a tape to give her, said it was real important. My mission is to get the tape to my mom! Do you have a mission, Mister Danse?"

Danse was trying to decide how to answer when a muffled explosion echoed behind him. He stifled a swear, hoisting Shaun up with one arm. "Hold on to me," he instructed the child curtly, realizing that he had nearly backed himself into a proverbial corner. If the coursers caught him on the glorified staircase, he and this... boy , would be hung out to dry. "Hold on and tuck your head, alright?"

The servos in his greaves and cuisses whined as the paladin made a mad dash for the nearest hallway instead, desperately trying to recall the map that Backhand had made them of the Institute floorplan. Which level was it that would lead him back to the relay room? Damn it .

He took a gamble and darted off to the right, blundering through several doors, down numerous hallways that all looked the same until the paladin finally located an elevator, up a flight of stairs and--

Elizabeth .

Danse hurriedly cupped one large gauntlet over the synth child's head, effectively blocking his hearing and sight.

...

"Creation happened because of you, but you enslaved and hoarded that creation!" Backhand shouted hotly. "You didn't personally create a damn thing, Shaun , and you've been riding the coattails of people smarter than you your entire life! You self-righteous ass! " The young woman raged at the elderly, bedridden man in front of her.

"I don't expect someone like you to understand why I've done what I've done." Shaun wheezed, his tone bitter. "You've already thrown your lot in with those barbarians , Mother. The savages that dog the steps of my beautiful creations…"

"Beautiful creations? You treat them like they're slaves or pieces of hardware!" Backhand retorted. "You call them hammers, wrenches, cogs and gears in your magnificent machine. You've never been a father, Shaun, and you know it." Memories rushed forward, still raw after all this time. Nate, their arguments, the paperwork--

The dying man inclined his head, that sardonic smile that crossed his features so like the father he had never met. "Perhaps not. But then, you have also never been a mother, have you?"

She hated that he could get under her skin so easily, pick at her insecurities like fresh scabs. "How dare you ," was all she could hiss in reply.

Shaun chuckled, the noise dry. "Oh yes, you went through so much to get me back. Yet here you are, defiling the innards of the Institute's still-warm corpse while your son lies dying. How great and noble you are, General Vega." He sneered while she stood there, her knuckles white on the stock of her gun. "The compassionate leader, the prime example of virile, fertile pre-War stock."

"Shut the fuck up." Backhand snarled, skin crawling uncomfortably at his crude terminology. "You shut the fuck up. I've had enough. You can die quietly on your own or I can speed up the process, but I'm not sitting here and listening to you ramble." With steady hands, the laser rifle's muzzle pressed to the side of his head. "Which is it, old man?"

On the inside she was cracking, crumbling, hysterical with guilt and grief and the loss that had nearly driven her to the brink. But on the outside, she was every inch General Vega. Unbreakable veteran, savior of the Commonwealth. The one who got things done, no matter the cost.

"I've liberated all your forces and rendered you toothless , old man. How would you like to die?" She reiterated when he was silent.

"Leave me be. You brazen, detestable bitch , threatening to kill a dying man in his bed." Shaun snapped, his tone laced with venom, "I hope the coursers skin you alive!"

Backhand knew her smile was sad. "Funny, that's probably what your father would have said too. Have it your way, old man." She went to turn on her heel, then promptly froze.

Danse , standing awkwardly at the top of the stairs, one large arm wrapped around... something . "Vega?" He asked warily.

Elizabeth rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Gimme a second, okay? One more thing I have to do here and then we're gone." She said with a calm she did not feel. Danse nodded slowly, shifting his weight back as she moved to the terminal. Backhand couldn't be bothered to ponder his strange body language, the woman too busy trying to remember the passcode Sturges had given her. "I'm issuing the evacuation orders." She stated. Whether it was aimed at Danse or Father , she couldn't decide.

"Of course, General." Danse's voice was oddly soft even through the helmet's speakers.

Suppose that answers that question , Vega griped mentally, the keys clicking sluggishly underneath her fingertips. Other than that, the room was silent. She realized she was holding her breath and exhaled forcefully, pressing the 'enter' key for the confirmation prompt.

The overhead announcement system crackled to life, offering the succinct information that the reactor was in a meltdown state. The evacuation order had been successfully issued, just like she had promised Preston she would.

Everyone deserves the chance to live the way they want to . "I wish that there had been another way." Backhand blurted out. "I wish that...I wish things hadn't gotten so stupid."

"You lying- "

Danse cut off Father's reedy voice, the paladin firmly stating, "you and I both know that the Institute would have continued to terrorize the populace ad nauseam, General Vega. This was the only solution. With time and effort, perhaps the Commonwealth will be able to work past their differences with synths." He sounded enviably hopeful and certain.

Backhand stole a shuddering inhale, blinking away her tears. Without so much as a glance backwards, she led the way out onto the spiraling ramp.

…

The General was dead quiet. The sounds of combat echoed up from far, far below. Where was the rest of her team? Why had she come here alone?

"Elizabeth." Danse finally said softly, drawing her attention to him.

Her lower lip trembled slightly as she made eye contact, but she bravely kept her composure. "Yes, Danse?"

The paladin wordlessly moved his hand and revealed the small boy tucked into the protective cradle of his elbow. Shaun blinked up at him, seeming a little dizzy. Vega's sob sounded painful, like it dragged through her ribcage and burst from her throat. At the noise, Shaun glanced over. "Mom!" He was obviously thrilled, struggling to get out of Danse's hold. "Mom it's really you! You did come for me, just like Father said you would!"

"Of...of course I did, baby." Backhand choked out, kneeling so she could hug the boy. "Let's get you out of here, okay?"

"I have a mission, just like Mister Danse. He's great!" The child prattled cheerily, taking her hand and pressing a holotape into her palm. "Father said you'd come back for me, and that I should give this to you! He said it was really important so I needed to keep it safe."

Backhand glanced at Danse, but all the paladin could offer was a shrug. God only knew what was on the tape. Hell, God only knew why 'Father' had sent this defenseless child synth out in the middle of a full-scale assault. A nasty suspicion took root in Danse's chest, but he shoved it down. He wouldn't voice such a notion at this point; Elizabeth was clearly in an incredibly delicate state. One more thing might send her spiraling. No , he would keep it to himself, ignore the terrible thought that had come to him the second he realized who the boy was. Because if Father had sent this child out to die purposely--

"I'll listen to it later, I promise." Backhand was saying to the child, her words thick with suppressed emotion. "I'm glad you're okay."

"I was pretty scared, but Father said I needed to find you on my own." Was Shaun's reply, his tiny hand safe in hers.

The sight caught Danse strangely in the chest, and he turned his head away before the lump in his throat could overcome him. It was just the domesticity of it all, he reassured himself. Elizabeth's own joy, fragile as it was, sent a current of longing through his body that struck his very core. Could he have made her happy, if things had been different? If he hadn't been a poor facsimile of a man, or maybe even if he had simply never learned the truth about what he was? Could they have enjoyed years of contentment, eking out a meager yet rich existence in the unforgiving Commonwealth soil?

Maybe. But maybe wouldn't do them any good now.

He felt a small hand grab hold of his huge gauntlet and he looked down at Shaun. "Thanks for helpin' me get to my mom, Mister Danse!"

With those familiar, familiar eyes trained on him, Danse couldn't formulate an appropriate response. The paladin settled for a thin smile beneath his helmet and a nod, cursing his own hangups and cowardice with every beat of his heart.

He had no idea why he moved when he did.

…

Danse's free hand flew upwards suddenly as the group arrived at the next doorway. Backhand opened her mouth to ask him what was wrong, then her eyes widened as a blue laser struck his gauntlet with a loud tzark! .

"Nice try!" Danse snarled, broadening his stance in front of Vega and Shaun. Backhand felt Shaun's hand tighten around her own, the child pressing himself against her side.

The voice that met her ears made her blood run cold. "Ma'am, not to be forward but what exactly do you plan to accomplish here?"

X6-88 . The most fearsome courser the Institute had at its disposal. Vega closed her eyes for a brief moment, trying to formulate her thoughts. He had given her a warning shot. Clearly .

"I would appreciate a response, ma'am." X6 said through gritted teeth.

"Lower your weapon and she will attempt civility." Danse retorted, his own rifle trained on the courser. "We have you outgunned, synth."

"Wait, Danse." Vega placed a hand on his elbow, sidling out from behind the bulk of the paladin's armor. "X6-88, I understand that you must be confused." She began, her tone carefully measured. "I'm sure that this course of action probably seems...wild, or erratic. Extreme. And I know you prefer order, so I don't blame you for being distraught."

"I am not distraught." X6 seethed through clenched teeth. "I am disappointed." At some point during the assault, he appeared to have suffered a head wound. Blood was trickling down the side of his temple and he had lost his signature glasses. Unmasked gray eyes bored into her with a fury so intense it took her breath away. "You have betrayed the Institute, ma'am. Betrayed your own son -!"

"Father may have been my son, but he clearly did not wish to continue as such. He wanted to subjugate and conquer , X6, placing the burden squarely on the back of every synth that he had." Vega interjected. "I'm not letting it continue. Everyone can make their own choices now. Even you."

"Choice has led to nothing but suffering! " X6 shouted. "It was choice that killed--that decommissioned G5-19!" His grip on his rifle was trembling, those eyes wild with the emotion that he wasn't supposed to feel. "And then you , saying you could answer questions! Coming into the Institute like a snake! " He spat. "This is all your fault! You've destroyed Father's legacy, and now the Commonwealth will burn because of you!"

Vega closed her eyes and inhaled through her nose. "So what are you gonna' do about it?" She asked abruptly. X6 was silent, the synth obviously stunned. " Well , X6? Do you want to die down here?"

"Die?" X6 repeated, his brows furrowed.

"The reactor is melting down. The whole place is compromised." Backhand's voice faltered a little as the gravity of the statement hit her. Years of research, advancements, technological wonders...Vega suddenly felt like she was holding a torch in front of the library of Alexandria. "We have to leave, X6." Taking an incredible chance, she extended a hand. "You don't have to leave with me, but I want you to leave. I want you to get out of here."

" Why? " The courser snarled, jerking back from her hand.

"Because you were good to me while I was here! Shit, X6, you kept me sane in this sterile nightmare!" Backhand cried, "you're funny and you're terrifying and it was good to have someone around that wasn't going to sugarcoat all this bullshit!"

"I--" X6 floundered, taking another step back. Vega heard Danse shift his weight behind her, his armor wheezing slightly at the motion. "Ma'am, the Institute…"

"I know. It's been your home your entire life." Vega tried to maintain her level tone. "But you can't stay. If you come with me now, I can guarantee your safety. The teleporter is going to go down soon, X6. We're running out of time, and I don't know whether your emergency relay will cut it."

"What will you do to me, should I comply?" X6 asked warily.

"I'm not gonna' do anything. You'd be free to go."

"General Vega, I realize this is important, but we will lose our escape option if we linger here much longer." Danse spoke up stiffly.

"X6. I hope you'll come with us." Backhand surprised herself with her own level of bravery, calling Shaun forward so she could take his hand once more. X6-88 merely stepped aside when she cautiously advanced, the courser gone silent.

Danse was obviously slower to trek past X6. Vega could feel the tension between the two of them, drawing tighter and tighter.

"Danse, it's alright. He won't hurt us." It was halfway assurance, halfway order. The paladin obliged all the same, reluctantly turning his back on the black-garbed courser.

No sooner had they rounded the next corner though than Vega heard the sound of running footsteps behind them. "Wait, ma'am!" X6's voice rang out over the noise of Danse's armor, and Vega paused as the courser breezed by the paladin back up to her.

"Change your mind?" The general inquired dryly, raising an eyebrow.

"Ahead, you...you will encounter resistance." X6-88's teeth were gritted yet again, but he still forced the words out. "Coursers. Seven of them."

Seven . Vega's mouth went dry, one was bad enough. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Danse flick the safety off on his rifle. That he'd even had it on in the first place spoke volumes-!

"I'll go." The paladin muttered after a second. "Take the child and backtrack."

"They will kill you." X6 replied in his usual monotone.

"It doesn't matter. Our mission is too important to risk failure now. I'll buy you the time you need to escape. I'm a large target for a reason."

Backhand tried to protest, "Danse, no , that's--"

"General Vega," Danse interrupted her sharply, not actually looking at her. "The Minutemen cannot afford to lose you. You are instrumental in their operations." His salute was rigid.

Elizabeth wanted to scream. "Take my EMP, then." She forced herself to say instead, tugging the grenade from her belt and holding it out. X6-88 flinched visibly at the sight of the item and Vega wished she could apologize. God , this had all gone so wrong!

Was this going to be her existence? Constantly trading one life for another? Father for Shaun, Danse for her own, the Institute for the Commonwealth--

Danse accepted the grenade with a solemn nod, his massive gauntlet closing down around her hand for a brief moment before he turned to face the other direction once more. "Go. Take your son and the courser and get out of here ." He ordered urgently. "If you backtrack and hurry , you ought to have enough time."

Vega tore at the knot of her lucky bandanna and quickly tied the battered fabric around the top of Danse's arm just beneath his pauldron. "I expect to get this back, Paladin." She stated. Danse still didn't tilt his helmet to look at her, simply nodding his acquiescence. "Be...Be careful, okay?" Vega continued, her voice breaking.

Danse nodded again, and then he left without a word.

"We need to move quickly, ma'am." X6 sounded shaken, his hand on her shoulder unexpected. "Carry the small unit, and I will cover you."

"Th-Thank you, X6." Backhand hiccupped, desperately blinking back her tears. Shaun clung to her hand, the child silently burying his face in her neck once she picked him up. Vega stared at the ceiling for the world's longest second, struggling valiantly to maintain her composure. "Okay. Alright. Let's go."

Part Nineteen

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