#i knew the moment it was announced it was gonna synth pop there was a high chance i was gonna be disappointed and i was right :((

[ritahayworrth]

i'm sorry some of y'all need to get your ears cleaned or something and take a step back because that was........not good

[returnn-of-the-mac]

One thing that really irked me about Fallout 4 was the lack of illnesses. Our bodies evolve alongside diseases, gaining immunity through exposure, which is then passed to the next generation. Then you have the Sole Survivor, who has effectively time-traveled to the future, and subsequently has none of this immunity. They should be very vulnerable to infection. How would the companions react to Sole getting horribly sick from what is the equivalent of a mild cough for the rest of the wasteland?

Ayy, so this is another combined react! I felt like even though these two aren’t directly related, they could work together. So thanks for the rq’s @conspiracysnail and @doodledust2017! Please enjoy!😊

FO4 (❤️+ Nick & Deacon) Companions React: Sole Catching a Deadly Disease, Slipping Into a Coma & Waking Up

What was supposed to be a quick trip to the Kendall hospital to gather some supplies quickly turned into a night-long ordeal when Sole and their lover unexpectedly encountered an abnormally aggressive deathclaw. After a long and grueling battle, Sole and their partner emerged victorius.

Now the pair was trudging along a beaten dirt road when Sole suddenly felt ill. Very ill. Like nothing they had ever experienced in their 200+ years of living. Nevertheless, they continued to carry on.

MacCready:

“Um, hey. Maybe we should stop for a minute,” MacCready suggested, “You’re looking kinda...grey.”

Sole wiped some sweat from their forehead, assuring MacCready that they hadn’t slept well the night before. He seemed didn’t seem to buy it, but didn’t bother arguing.

Moments later, the urge to vomit suddenly overtook Sole. They desperately fished through their bag for something to suppress it—maybe a purified water?

“What’re you looking for?” MacCready asked, concerned, “Gun? Ammo? Gumdrops?”

Just as Sole opened their mouth to ask for a purified water, they fell onto their hands and knees and began vomiting.

“Eww,” MacCready grimaced and backed up a few steps, “You get food poisoning?”

Sole continued unleashing a seemingly endless stream of puke and their companion grew concerned.

“You...you gonna be okay? You must be running out of stuff to throw up,” MacCready warily approached, “[Name]? Can you still breathe?”

The vomit stream did not cease, and Sole felt themself losing consciousness. The last thing they remembered was being shoved to the side moments before fainting, narrowly avoiding the vile puddle in front of them.

Curie:

“[Madame/Monsieur], you look unwell,” Curie noted.

Sole denied feeling ill and pressed on.

“Zis is zerious, my love!” The synth said firmly, grabbing Sole’s hand to get their attention. It was cold and clammy.

Sole was taken aback by their friend’s unusually stern tone, and Curie’s eyebrows furrowed.

“I apologize for raising my voice, [Madame/Monsieur], but I am zincerely worried,” she explained, “I knew exploring ze ‘ospital was a risk because you ‘ave not been exposed to many Post-War diseases. You’re immune zystem...it will ztruggle.”

Sole let out a long, rattly cough and Curie frowned

“Oh non...zis ees not good,” Curie fished through her supplies to see if she could find anything to treat Sole. She walked over to her companion and gently rubbed their back, hoping to soothe their respiratory tract. They coughed again— this time much harder.

“[Madam/Monsieur]! You’re pupils are constricting!” the synth observed, tenderly squeezing Sole’s hand, “Ztay with me, mon amie, please!”

Sole experienced tunnel vision as their lover’s pleas got fainter and fainter. Then, everything went black.

Piper:

“Blue, you’re not looking too hot right now,” Piper commented, “Are you alright?”

Sole denied their illness and insisted on pressing forward. After about 5 more minutes of walking, Sole started to see black dots materialize around them. They began to sweat and shake their head frantically, trying to clear their vision.

“[Name]?” Piper stated. Her voice sounded comically deep, as if in slow motion “Arreeee yooooouu oookkkayyy?”

Sole giggled at the sound of their friend’s voice before the black dots completely overtook their sight. They felt their knees give way as the world went black.

Gage:

“An’ so I told em: how old do ya think we are? Ten? A rubber chicken ain’t cuttin it. Neither is a whoopie cushion. That shit ain’t hard— uh...boss?” Gage paused, “Are ya still listenin’ to my story? It’s pretty damn funny.”

Sole weakly nodded, and Gage stared at them.

“You’re fulla shit, boss,” Gage chuckled, “Now, what’s on your mind? Ya look...spacey.”

Sole swallowed and took a seat on the ground, the world spinning.

Gage frowned.

“What’s wrong, babe?”

He took a seat beside them and noticed their ashen skin.

“You look like shit. Tell me what’s goin on.”

Sole suddenly felt chills and their skin went clammy. They shot their companion a panicked look before they felt their vision go blurry.

“Hey!” Gage yelled, grabbing his lover by the shoulders, “Hey! Talk to me! Fucking speak!”

Sole collapsed into the Raider’s arms and blacked out.

Hancock:

“You feelin alright?” Hancock asked, frowning, “You haven’t said a word since we left the hospital. That ain’t like you.”

Sole shook their head and continued moving forward. They wanted to answer, but they couldn’t. They were too nauseous.

“Hey,” the ghoul pressed, approaching a flat boulder. He sat down and patted an open spot ned to him, “Come here, gorgeous.”

Sole sat down beside their lover and immediately curled up next to him. Hancock put his arm around them, but now knew without a doubt that something was going on.

“No shame in needin to take a break,” Hancock murmured, kissing the top of Sole’s head, “If ya need an off day, we can just take the day off. No harm in that, doll. The Commonwealth can survive a single day without ya.”

Sole smiled and opened their mouth to say thank you. Before they could get the words out, however, they began to projectile vomit.

Hancock jumped in surprise, but immediately composed himself. He climbed behind Sole and [held back their hair/rubbed their back] as they continued to puke.

“Easy, easy…” Hancock cooed— more so trying to keep himself calm than Sole.

After a few minutes of non-stop vomiting, the ghoul felt his lover falling forward. He roughly tugged them back to prevent them from falling.

Sole now lay face up on the rock, eyes closed. The force of the puking and the dehydration had caused them to black out.

Danse:

“Taffington Boathouse is just over the horizon,” Danse announced, “It would probably make for a safe place to spend the night— assuming the settlers have kept the bloodbug population under control.”

When Sole didn’t answer, the former Paladin turned around to check on them. He noticed his lover straggling behind.

“Soldier? How are you holding up? Do you need to take a break?”

Sole nodded and plopped down on a rock, curling up immediately.

A concerned Danse approached them, and put the back of his hand to their forehead.

“[Name], you’re burning up. Are you sure you’re alright?”

Sole closed their eyes.

Danse frowned and sat beside them. “Soldier, are you going to make it across the river? We could just camp out here for the—”

It was then that Sole went completely limp and began to roll off the rock. Danse sprung into action and caught them just before they hit the ground.

“[Name]! Talk to me, [name],” Danse demanded, holding Sole and grabbing their hand, “If you are unable to speak, squeeze my hand.”

Nothing happened, and Danse noticed how cold and numb Sole’s fingertips were.

“Oh. God. Dammit!”

Although Sole could neither move nor speak, they could still hear the commotion. They made one final attempt to communicate with their panic-stricken lover before they blacked out.

Preston:

“Hey,” Preston began, slowing his pace, “I need to ask— we need to talk.”

An exhausted Sole mustered all of their energy to focus on their concerned companion.

“I feel like you haven’t been taking care of yourself lately. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard,” the Colonel explained, approaching his lover, “I hate to say this to you— and please don’t take this the wrong way— but you look horrible, babe.”

The words hurt Sole, but they knew Preston was right. They did feel terrible. Their entire body ached from head to toe, their lungs hurt, and they felt nauseous.

“You should rest,” Preston suggested, “Since we’re still pretty far from Taffington Boathouse, we can camp out here. I’ll gather some firewood. In the meantime, you should eat something.”

Preston handed Sole a noodle cup.

“It’s cold, but at least it’s packed with nutrients.”

Sole tried to pop open the lid, but their hands fumbled around clumsily.

“Are you okay? You’re shaking like a leaf, babe.”

Just then, Sole’s vision went blurry. The last thing they remembered was Preston shouting their name before they blacked out.

Cait:

“Hold up, [handsome/gorgeous],” Cait began, “Ye ain’t lookin to hot. You’ve gotta take a break.”

Sole ignored the redhead and pressed onward, but the redhead roughly grabbed their arm and pulled them back.

“Oh no, ye don’t! We are stoppin here and campin out. I’m not gonna have ye pass out on me in the middle of a firefight. Got it?”

Sole tried to wiggle out of their lover’s grasp, but they were far too weak.

“Yer a stubborn one, ain’t ye. I’m not surprised. But ye can’t even shake free from my grasp and I’m not even tryin that hard. Now what if I were an enemy, darlin? Ye’d be good as dead.”

Sole sighed and sat down on a rock. Their head was pounding and their stomach was churning. The nausea was becoming unbearable.

“Hey,” Cait began, crouching next to them, “Yer lookin a bit...green. Do you need—” before she could finish, Sole began to vomit violently.

“Shite!” Cait shrieked, falling over backwards. She was covered in pink chunks. Despite being thrown up on, she shot back up and scrambled to her lover’s aid.

“See if ye can chug some water down or somethin,” the redhead suggested. Unfortunately, Sole’s stream of vomit failed to cease.

“Bloody hell! Are ye ever gonna stop!?”

Sole tried to regain control of their stomach contents, but they were unable to. After a solid two minutes of vomiting, Sole blacked out.

Nick:

“Stop,” Nick demanded. Sole turned around, shocked by the detective’s uncharacteristically stern tone.

Nick sighed and approached his lover.

“You work so damn hard to ensure everyone is taken care of, but sometimes, you just need to take care of yourself, dear,” Nick explained, “You look exhausted. Still beautiful as alway, but jaded.”

Sole hated to admit it, but they knew Nick was right. They were wearing themself out. After leaving Kendall Hospital and coming in contact with hundreds— if not thousands— of foreign disease strands, they were feeling it now more than ever.

“Honey,” the detective began, placing his hand on Sole’s forehead, “You’re definitely running a fever. Please, just rest for tonight. You deserve it.”

Sole took a seat on a nearby rock as the detective searched his inventory for a blanket and food. As Sole watched their lover, they began to feel dizzy.

“[Name]?” Nick called, looking over his shoulder, “Are you alright?”

Before Sole could answer, their vision went blurry. They felt themself losing their balance on the rock.

“[Name]!” Nick cried.

That was the last thing Sole remembered before everything went black.

Deacon:

“Hey hotshot, you ain’t lookin too hot,” Deacon teased, “You actually look kinda cold. I see goose bumps on your arms!”

Sole tried to crack a smile, but they just couldn’t muster the energy.

“Baaaabe, you good? Do you need water or something? Oh! Maybe a teddy bear! I’ve got a ton of those!”

An exhausted Sole curled up on the ground, and their lover could sense that something was wrong.

“[Name], tell me what’s up,” Deacon pressed, “You look...horrible, actually. Are you sick or something? Did you contract some kinda disease at the hospital?”

Before Sole could answer, they started seeing stars.

“[Name]?” Deacon asked, worried, “Hey...you hanging in there? You look all cross-eyed. [Name]?”

Everything went black.

…

Sole groaned and opened their eyes slowly. The light was blinding and their entire body was numb. They could make out some shapes— some settlers and...a person sitting right beside them? They must be at a clinic in one of the settlements.

Before Sole could even finish processing the environment, there was a sudden commotion in the room.

MacCready

“[Name]!” The mercenary cried, throwing his arms around Sole “You’re alive!”

Sole could barely breathe with how tight their lover was hugging them. In fact, they were surprised he even had this much strength. Sole tapped MacCready on the back a few times before he got the hint and pulled away.

“Heh, sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, “You were in a coma for two weeks. I...I thought I’d lost you.”

MacCready’s eyes started to glisten, and Sole mustered a small smile.

“I’m not crying,” he defended, “It’s dusty in here!”

His lover let out a laugh, and the mercenary lightened up a bit. He pulled Sole into another hug.

“I’m so glad you’re okay. I love you so much, [name].”

Curie:

“MON CHERIE!” Curie shrieked, sobbing into Sole’s shoulder, “Oh, I zought you were gone!”

Sole pet their lover’s hair as they continued to bawl.

“You ‘ad a zerious virus. You caught it from ze ‘ospital. Ze Kendall one,” the synth explained, “I tried to ‘elp you as much as I could, but I zimply did not ‘ave the proper equipment.”

Sole continued to comfort their distraught companion. When Curie had finally stopped crying, she stared lovingly into Sole’s eyes.

“I don’t know zwat I would do wizout you, my love,” Curie breathed, “You mean ze world to me.”

Piper

“Blue, Blue, Blue, oh my god!” Piper squeeled, clinging onto Sole’s arm, “You’re alive! I thought that afternoon two weeks ago would be the last time I’d ever get to speak to you again!”

Sole smiled as their lover babbled on.

“I love you so, so, so, so much! To the moon and back! More than every last grain of sand on the beach! More than all of the dust in the Commonwealth!”

Piper planted a warm kiss on Sole’s cheek, and then pursed her lips.

“Don’t you dare go scaring me like that again, you goober!”

Gage:

“Are ya— ” He stared at Sole, “Alive?”

Sole nodded and Gage grinned.

“I knew ya’d pull through it, babe! You’re the roughest, toughest [girl/guy] I know!”

Gage punched Sole’s arm— much to the annoyance of the onlooking settlers— and gave them a rough kiss on the forehead.

“Ain’t no germs gonna mess with us.”

Hancock:

“Hey, how’re ya doin, sweetheart?” Hancock asked, brushing loose strands of Sole’s hair to the side, “I’m so glad to see you’re doin okay. I love ya, doll.”

Sole smiled, and Hancock wrapped his arms around his lover.

“You sure had me spooked. And I’m not scared of anything,” Hancock laughed, tilting his head toward a mountain of used jet puffers.

Sole rolled their eyes and the ghoul chuckled.

“I know ya hate when I do that but...I just couldn’t fathom spending the rest of my life without ya. I love you so much, and I care about ya more than I’ve cared about, well, anything honestly.”

Danse:

“There you are,” Danse sighed, squeezing Sole’s hand, “I’m glad to see you’re alright.”

“And now you can finally stop pestering me about [his/her] condition,” an annoyed settler— seemingly the doctor— remarked.

“Affirmative, civilian,” Danse growled, “Now if you would please give us some privacy. All of you.”

All of the settlers left the room, and Danse looked back at Sole.

“I was...scared, admittedly,” Danse confessed, “If I lost you, I honestly don’t know what I’d do.”

Sole smiled at Danse, and the former Paladin pulled his lover into a tight embrace.

The two sat in silence for a moment, Danse holding his lover close, before finally breaking the silence.

“I love you, [name],” Danse murmured, “So much.”

Preston:

“Babe?” Preston whispered, “Oh my god. You’re awake!”

The Colonel beamed and pulled Sole into a tight hug. The settlers clapped.

“I really thought we’d lost you, General,” Preston explained, “You mean so much to me. You stuck by my side when I was at my worst, and for that I am truly grateful.”

Sole smiled and Preston gave them a kiss on the cheek before pulling them into another tight hug.

“Thank you for staying strong and surviving,” he whispered, voice wavering, “Being together with you is truly amazing, and I just couldn’t imagine— I don’t even want to think about it. I love you, babe.”

Cait:

“Good mornin, sunshine,” Cait giggled, “How was yer slumber?”

Sole raised an eyebrow and Cait ruffled their hair. She was unusually giddy.

“Ah, I knew a few germs wouldn’t take down the tank! I knew ye would be survivin,” the redhead chirped, “Didn’t worry a smidge.”

Sole studied Cait’s face and observed her puffy red eyes, the dark bags that framed them, and her hollow cheeks. She looked like she had been to hell and back. Was she back on psycho? Sole hoped not.

Sole furrowed their eyebrows and looked deep into their lover’s eyes.

“W-What?” Cait cracked. Her lip was quivering, “Quit lookin at me like that!”

After a few moments of silence, the redhead finally broke down. She threw her head down on the pillow beside Sole and began to sob violently. Sole rubbed her back as she struggled to breathe.

When Cait had finally cried herself out, she stared at Sole, wiping away a string of snot with her arm.

“Yeah, yeah I’m disgustin,” Cait mumbled, “And no, I’m not back on psycho. I know that’s probably what yer thinkin. I’ve just been worried sick.”

Sole smiled and Cait hugged her lover.

“I’d never undo my sobriety. You sacrificed so much for me. I can’t thank ye enough for that, darlin. I hate to sound cheesy, but yer the light of me life.”

Nick:

“My god,” Nick breathed, immediately pulling Sole into a tight embrace, “I’m so glad you’re alright.”

Nick looked at the young doctor in the room and nodded.

“Thank you,” he began, peering over Sole’s shoulder, “You are truly a talented young man. [He/she] wouldn’t be here without your hard work.”

The doctor smiled and left the room, leaving the couple in peace.

The detective held Sole and rocked them back and forth for a few moments before gazing into their eyes.

“Darling...I truly didn’t expect you to ever wake up from that coma. You were out for two weeks,” Nick explained, “By the time I got you here, you were in rough shape. I’m eternally grateful to everyone who came together to help you. And I’m so relieved that you’re alive and well.”

He planted a passionate kiss on Sole’s lips before pulling away and smiling.

“Get some rest, dear. You need it,” he stated, pulling the thin sheet up to Sole’s chin and fluffing their pillow, “I love you.”

Deacon:

“Well hello there!” Deacon laughed, his eyes brimming with tears, “Long time no see, babe!”

He playfully wiggled Soles hand around a bit before pulling them into his arms.

“I missed you so much,” he stated, wiping is eyes, “I really thought I’d lost you.”

He pulled back, forcing a small grin.

Sole raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t think you can escape me that easily,” he teased, “I plan on sticking around to annoy you for at least another few decades!”

[purkinje-effect]

The Purkinje Effect, 36

Table of Contents. Go to previous.

____________________

Geek slouched alone in the floor of Hancock’s Statehouse room. Down to his gloves, tank, and jeans, he routed through his duffel, armor, and jumpsuit and laid out everything in his possession. He picked uselessly at what remained of his savings, and quickly returned the caps to their stash in one of the inner pockets of his boiler suit. He found himself snacking on a tub of shortening, rather than accomplishing the task of taking inventory. His gaze fell on the two bottles of Buffout he’d collected from the gym in North End, and his pursed mouth wandered askew.

After Park Street Station, he never wanted to touch a chem again. Even tobacco and spirits felt suspect, and he’d never really considered them chems per se.

He wanted to talk to Hancock. He’d wanted to talk to him since they got back inside Goodneighbor’s walls. But the mayor had made himself scarce and unapproachable, sticking to the corners of people’s vision. The only times he’d seen him in the past twenty-four hours was a quick pop into his room to grab some chems, and when he had taken a short nap upon returning home from their excursion. Geek was pretty sure Hancock had been floating around the Third Rail, but he hadn’t bothered to press interaction. He absolutely did not want to enter another subway if he could help it. Where would he even begin talking anyway?

And it wasn’t like he could talk to ‘Choly about it, either. The chemist had stayed in the Hotel Rexford and not been seen at all. Geek had half a brain cell to suspect that ‘Choly had somehow left town without the Neighborhood Watch noticing, but the rest of his brain cells knew that didn’t add up either. No, the last thing he wanted to do was hunt down the little cretin.

He picked up Cronus, turned it this way and that in his hands. His pursed mouth flattened into a long wide line. A gloved fingertip trailed one of the edges. With a brittle, loud noise he slapped the broad side of the blade against the floor. Again, a third time, until part of it snapped off the once-wrench he’d built it atop. His jaw seared. He grabbed for the ball peen in a tool apron, applied it to the remainder of his work. As the pieces freed from his shiv, he shoved them into his mouth and swallowed them without a care for the possible consequences on the way down.

The shiv was still Cronus, with or without his sweat poured onto it.

He pulled everything back together, keeping the chems set aside. He glanced to the coffee table which normally boasted his boyfriend’s spread and glassware, then stood with a stiff snort, carrying the two bottles of steroid supplements. Then he descended the spiral staircase on his way to the one person he felt would talk to him these days.

Sorry, Dais. He gesticulated on his way out of the Statehouse and across the plaza. We had to go save a Synth imprisoned by Triggermen in a vault. Oh! Sorry, Dais. Hancock didn’t tell me that he meant for us to help him do somethin’ completely different, when he agreed to work with us. Daisy, we should be worried about some a the chem-weapons our new chemist has. Daisy, so sorry. Got trust issues now--

Geek stood before Daisy’s Discounts, and stopped, watching. A ghoul looked to be throwing hands with Daisy from across the counter. He wasn’t sure whether to step between her and this short bespectacled ghoul with a patchy red ducktail, faded muddy leather jacket, and high-rolled trousers demonstrating mismatched socks and spectator brogues. It seemed like neither was intent on landing any hits despite their animation toward one another. The unfamiliar figure slapped his elbow against the back of his hand repeatedly. The longer Geek stood there, the more he felt Daisy’s exhaustion and this other ghoul’s exasperation, like pressure descending upon the space. What got him really staring wasn’t the glowing uranium green hatch marks all along his bare right arm. It was yet another Pip-Boy owner.

Daisy tossed a glance to Geek, to let him know she was aware of him, but she didn’t let up gesturing with animation. The other ghoul said nothing, and kept his attention on Daisy. Daisy slowly began verbalizing bits and pieces. Everything out of her mouth felt like an incomplete thought, but Geek could tell now there was some manner of conversation taking place. And it was about him. He flushed deep pink, and did his best not to frown.

“--No, the three of them are in a rough patch after what happened in the vault, but-- No, I’m sure we can get together enough forces in Goodneighbor to reclaim the-- Cecil! Damn it all!!” No amount of raking one hand along the back of the other could convince the ginger to ease off.

The ghoul turned to Geek. He gave a few dials and buttons and impassive tweak, then resumed gesticulating, this time toward the pink ghoul.

The Pip-Boy emanated a voice something like a Mister Handy’s, though too modulated and mechanical: “You’re the Geek, then.”

“I, what of it,” Geek stammered in bewilderment. “What’s--”

“I might be upset about the ongoing damages to my library,” the Pip-Boy continued on Cecil’s behalf, “but your detour saved one of the only people in Diamond City I still respect. So I owe you thanks.”

“I don’t-- I don’t understand--”

Geek’s attention flitted between Daisy and Cecil, desperate for a modicum of explanation. Cecil went in for a handshake, only to notice Geek’s hands were full. Cecil’s demeanor jilted to a cool fixation upon noticing the particular chem.

“Oh. Buffout. Full bottles? Are you looking to unload them?”

“Cecil,” Daisy hissed, slouching on the counter, and not even bothering to move a muscle. “If the Geek is interested in selling them to me, I will set them aside for you. And you can buy them. From. Me.”

Geek glanced up at the store front sign, then back to Cecil. Supposing it’s fair she dislikes anyone but her doing business in her shop.

After watching the Pip-Boy screen a moment, Cecil soured and lost his patience with the whole thing.

“I’m going to the Den,” his Pip-Boy announced on his way out of the plaza and around the corner.

“...His library?” Geek still glanced in the direction Cecil had left.

“That was Mr. Cecil. He’s the curator of the Boston Public Library.” Daisy let out a long, beleaguered sigh. “I’m sorry, dear. Did you need something?”

“...I thought I did... Never mind.�� He squinted, unable to shake the rhyme. “No. The library curator? I thought you said the library was full of super mutants.”

“He is. And, unfortunate as it is... it is.” She only got up long enough to fetch herself a beer, and seemed in marginally better sorts with her whistle whet. “When the mutants moved in, I was confident--but not certain--that he stepped out of the house at the time, so to speak. It’s a shame for the library to fall out of his hands like this, and for him to come home from his errand like this, but I’m glad he’s still kicking. One of a handful of the prewar ghouls that still haunt the Commonwealth.”

“Came to apologize for not reclaiming the library yet, but... You did the same thing Hancock did. You sent us to make sure somebody that matters to you was okay, but didn’t want to admit it might turn out t’be a rescue mission.” He swatted his train of thought away before continuing. “You are so goddamn good at your job that I don’t even have to know I’ve got questions, an’ you’ll answer ‘em.”

He set the Buffout on the counter. She softened, smiling genteel despite having little clue what he was on about.

“My job? Sweetheart, I’m just a gorgeous, brilliant, humble gal running an odds and ends shop in the ruins of Boston’s red light district. So you are interested in unloading some goods. I’ll give you ninety-five caps for the pair.”

He nodded impatiently, unable to get rid of the chems fast enough. She counted out five caps from a satchel and gave him the rest, which he shoved into his caps pocket. With a pointed, insistent enthusiasm, he excused himself.

“Boston’s gonna have its library back one day.”

She was scared we wouldn’t find him alive. He thought back to her asking her favor, and recalled her sheer, genuine attachment to the location itself. Hancock had to know who Cecil was, going into this. That’s how he deduced Daisy had put them up to it.

He knew Daisy’s answer to the question ablaze in his eye as he stormed across the plaza to the nearest Neighborhood Watch. Now he needed to know Hancock’s answer to the same damn question.

Why’d you mislead us, when y’know we would’a said yes?

The Watchman waved toward the stoop to the Third Rail, not even having to deduce what Geek wanted. So he did what he didn’t want, and he entered the bar that had been a subway terminal in another life.

Ham stopped him with a pair of gentle, insistent hands on his shoulders.

“Geek, I know ya don’t know me too well. But I’ve got to warn you. I don’t like when trouble kicks up in this place. Don’t be that trouble, capisce?”

“Ain’t got a single intention of that, man. What, you worried Hancock’s gonna start somethin’ in his own bar? Don’t sweat it.”

The tuxedo’ed bouncer relinquished, and Geek continued downstairs in search of the mayor. When he didn’t locate him in the main seating area, he couldn’t even pay mind to Magnolia’s performance on stage. He slipped down the hall to the VIP lounge, and stood right before the corner turned, and listened with great resentment. Oh goody. Worst case scenario. Hancock and ‘Choly were talking, and he could smell Mister Handy fuel before he even got to the hall in the first place.

“Leader’s got to be trustworthy just as much as he’s got to trust his compatriots,” Hancock continued coolly. “You and Geek sounded like you had your heart set on clearing out the library, laid out a ton of financial and sociopolitical ground we stood to gain. But she sent y’all there to check on somebody. I was pretty sure he was safe, but I was very sure Valentine wasn’t. And I didn’t trust either of ya to make the moral decision to focus on Valentine when given the choice. So, ah. Thank you. For making me check myself.”

“You’re forgiven. ...Though, if you really wanted to thank me, truly thank me, you could show your gratitude with a kiss.”

“You’ve got a strange economy, to prioritize bartering in tokens. But... you’ve been bending over backwards since you stepped foot in my town, presumably in some attempt just to earn some. I suppose I could... give you a little peck.”

After a tense and awkward quiet, Geek could hear some clothing rustling, and Hancock’s boots hitting the floor.

“A peck, nothing more, nothing less.” The ghoul mused, diffusing his displeasure into dreaminess. “This ghoul’s not running the bases anymore. Already got my home run.”

'Choly broke the long pause with abjection.

“...When was the last time you know of that Sticks was in town?”

A tall figure came up behind Geek. The pink fellow didn’t have to turn around to know the man wanted trouble.

“You got a habit of snooping?” He had a somewhat shrill, sarcastic, mid-tone voice. “I’m told your bubblegum butt shouldn’t be here.”

“Did Ham sic you on me!”

“Melancholy did. He warned me that you might be following him.”

Geek put his hands up, incredulous.

“I was lookin’ for Hancock!”

“I was just leaving.” ‘Choly leaned hard into his cane, standing several paces from Geek. “Ugh, you have an awful eavesdropping habit. If you want to watch, or be included, you should just say so--”

“Sir!” Angel blurted out, coming along behind him. “You’ve paid good money to enforce a restraining order. Such invitation is both unwise and contrary to your investment.”

‘Choly couldn’t even muster rolling his eyes at his Handy.

“Come on, MacCready. I need to work out some things with the other Rexford tenants.” He glanced over his glasses to Geek, exhausted to his soul. “You heard Angel. Don’t be my shadow. This mercenary is a formidable ex-Gunner, and he’s in my pocket.”

The tall man in a cream duster followed along with the chemist and robot. Geek hemmed as he watched them scale the stairs at ‘Choly’s pace. He couldn’t shake the grief, and did his best to read the room where he stood. A bald patron lounged at the seating area near the end of the bar, where some white picket fencing provided a safety barrier at the edge of what had once been the loading platform.

Wearing sunglasses, flannel, and a pleasantly stupid grin, he waved warmly to him with unsettling familiarity. Geek approached him, scalp prickling, and narrowly made himself sit at the patio furniture with him.

“The fuck are you doing here,” he asked the man.

“Hey, now...” The man grinned, hands up in defense. “Everybody’s welcome in Goodneighbor. Even me!”

[flowerpuppy]

Igor is the best album this decade ("essay")

This album had quite the interesting rollout for me. When the album first was announced I heard A$AP Rocky mention how Tyler was really experimenting and reaching outside of what he has done before and really exceeded Tylers 2017 album Flower Boy which i quite enjoyed. I was critical of this, often when i heard artist mention how they ”gotten more experimental” often it turns out not to be true, like with Thom Yorke's new album and Slipknot's new album it usually just turns out to be quite similar to what they have already done but with some new twists. I was expecting Igor too be good, but not as good as Flower Boy or anything exceptionally. 

But then the first music sneak peek came out and I was really stricken by it. It was the start of IGOR’S THEME and I remember just listening to the instagram video on repeat. I was starting to think ”what if this is gonna be really amazing”. Then more sneak peeks came out, all really wonderful and my expectation grew and grew until the album finally released.

I first listened to it the morning the album came out and wow yeah. Immediately i feel in love, this is just such a wonderfully beautifully unique album, this is really just Tyler working as freely as he wants but unlike Cherry Bomb which while having some great moments over all is flawed Igor somehow is just perfect. There is not a beat switch, a melody change, mixing or performance on this whole album I dont love with my whole heart. It's just a wonderful little album.

The album starts with what migth be my favorite song on the album, IGOR’S THEME. It's just such a amazing way too establish the whole album, its themes and mood. The long droney synth, then the drums kicking in, the amazing Lil Uzi Vert feature, the little delayed and panned running, then the the synth stops for a little drum break but then comes back until it chour hits. Its just perfect, it's just so lovely and then the strings hit at the end it's just wonderful. 

Then EARFQUAKE starts, just a really solid pop song. Some beautiful pianos with Tyler singing the main vocals with his pitched up vocals and overdubs in his normal pitch. Tylers singing voice is really wonderful and he really seems to have gotten a grasp on how to use it on this with full confidence and its great! Simple but poignant lyrics were Tyler tries to convince his partner to stay,  it works really great for the song. And then Playboi Carti verse starts, i cant hear what hes saying without the lyrics up but man those it just sound great. It also ends with a rap verse with Tylers normal pitch and it's just a great way to tie up the end.

Then I THINK starts, a more traditional hip hop song with a great chant, ”four, skate”. Hard hitting drums a thumping bass line and a wonderful bridge leading to the chours again but with the great performance from Solange being more in the forefront and its great. Ending with a sweet little piano leading to the interlude EXACTLY WHAT YOU RUN FROM YOU END UP CHASING which transitions to the next song.

RUNNING OUT OF TIME starts with the wonderful hook which is just the title repeated but harmonized beautiful with versed heavily leaning on Tylers very distinctive brass synth sound and a really beautiful bridge. 

Then! Then we have NEW MAGIC WAND! If IGOR’S THEME isnt my favorite song on this album this is. A bit thing that this album does really well is mix its grittier ugly sound with just really beautiful pretty parts and this song does that so wonderfully. With more abrasive verses with a distorted bass and distorted background laughs with electric keyboards. This album also bleeds great hooks and this song has a good amount of them, first with the ”Like magic, like magic, like magic, gone” chant and then leading to the chorus pleading to not be left alone just repeating ”Please don't leave me now”. Then it yet transitions to a short beautiful bridge and then again gets more abrasive and ends. A amazing song.

Then A BOY IS A GUN* comes on, just a really lush sample heavy hip hop song. Again some really nice harmonization and singing from Tyler and a great performance from Solanges. It also just ends very strong with the ”stay the fuck away from me” line and when the instrumental cuts of at the end with the vocals still left, so beautiful! My god.

Then we have PUPPET which might also be my favorite song, it's just a beautiful song about being obsessed, being codependent and just loosing agency as your falling in love with someone just not being able to not want to for your whole life around someone. Also features a great feature from Kanye West which isn't supper present but his small verse and adlibs really adds to the song. A great song.

WHAT’S GOOD is the albums main banger, it's just a great hard hitting rap song alike I Ain't Got Time! with Tyler gaining more confidence and including some pretty bridges and great beatswitches. This albums has enough pretty bridges to build a bridge over the atlantic! So good.  I see the light.

Then we have GONE, GONE / THANK YOU, the classic track 10 split song which all of Tyles albums have (for the uneducated). The first part GONE, GONE is just a lush beautiful a choir and harmonizing heavy song with a surprise feature from CeeLo Green, just very pretty. Kinda reminds me of Rainbo Conversation in some ways. The song ends with a more melancholic darker ending rap verse changing the very bright vocals and tone too something darker and deeper that very well wraps up and transitions too the second track THANK YOU. THAN YOU is a bit hard to describe, it's more bittersweet and melancholic than the first side, trying too see something positive in the break up but still just feeling done with love forever.

Then it amazingly transitions too I DON’T LOVE YOU ANYMORE, starts with a minimal small intro verse with just a drum machine, a electric piano, some subtle synth sounds and Tyler's voice. Then it just opens up, gets more bright and starts the chorus which a very wavy feel to it leading to what i think is Jack White playing a great little melody with Tyler vocal riffing over it. It's a bit hard to describe with how lose the structure is but it's just very pretty and just an acceptance of love lost.

Then we close with ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?, pleading for a happy ending. Just a lush pretty song trying to keep some kind of relationship so everything spent together isn't lost. With the song starting to get quiet and then slowly building up more and more getting more distorted, a small feature Pharrell Williams  giving a great performance just really driving forward and just giving the whole album a really lush great climax. A very good way to end the whole album.

A big part why i love this album is of course the amazing wonderful production, it just oozes this perfect mood and aesthetic that's really unique and weird. Sounds vintage while beeing very new, like a distorted weird Stevie Wonder album. The mixing too, its not too clean and is a bit messy giving the whole album a great character.

I also didnt mention the lyrics a whole before so i will mention it now, i love them and they are perfect. Ive seen complaints that they are too simple and people who thing that i feel like cant really see what the words meaning can be heightened with the music and I also just think the lyrics very well articulated obsession, codependence, just loving someone so much you want them too never leave so well. Also I love how unapologetically gay the whole album is, while Flower Boy hunted and referenced it this album is just a straightforward gay break up album and its great. I'm very happy Tyler is really owning his sexuality.

I love this album so much, the first day i listened to it i knew that it was just perfect, i listened to the album three times before i got too school and i've listened to it a whole lot more sense then and I love it more every time. This album is gritty, it's pretty, its ugly, its beautiful and it's very gay and it's the best album this decade. 

Thank you if u actually read all this. (heh finished this 4:20 am)

[ellebeebee]

:3c 16 for Mira/Liam! (take your time if rl gets in the way, hope you are doing okay!)

Yeah, I’ve just been busy this week.  Mostly because I procrastinate.  Haha.  Hah.

Anyway.  Here we go!

Prompt: (a kiss) when one person’s face is scrunched up, and the other one kisses their lips/nose/forehead

1106 words, Liam x f!Ryder, warning for idiots being all cute and stuff

“…not opposed to New Tuchanka’s reentry into the Initiative as a propriety colony– holy shit, does he, like, think this is seventeenth century Britain or something?” Mira groaned.

She looked up to glare at Liam.

He raised his hands defensively. “More like, uuhhh, whatever century Sur’kesh and Tuchanka– when was that anyway?  Think I slept through most of Galactic History.”

Mira sighed and went back to glaring at her datapad. “None of our timelines make sense anymore anyways.  Plus six hundred and all.”

He shifted and considered her.  Last Flight of the Pyrrin played quietly on storage’s holoscreen, the century– well, millenia-old armor of the turian actors giving the long and poetic monologues a certain gravity.  They sat on the couch, him on one end and her on the other; she at lengthwise with her calves propped on his lap.  Decked in their sweats, they were pretty comfortably ensconced.  They’d been mired in their own datapads, commenting occasionally (Verand sent her regards again, Tann sent his bullshit again), and mostly not really watching the vid.

But she was getting worked up about this new crisis, even though they all knew she could manage it just as well as all the other ones.  Shit, what was Tann gonna do?  Fly out here (leave the Nexus in the first place), and, what, yell at her?  Ha!

Still, her face was getting all scrunched up like it did: round and short nose all flared, brows dug in and furrowed, and dark amber cheeks gone all chipmunk, puffy.  Jeez.  He was tempted to yank off her socks and tickle her feet.

Or.

Liam sat up and stretched to put down his datapad on a crate to the side.  She looked up as her feet began to slide off his lap.  He swiveled his body around to kneel up on the couch.  He gave her a look.

“I’m coming over there to kiss you,” he told her.

Her brow shot up.  And then it came back down. “What? No.”

He made a show of shifting his weight to all fours, crawling an inch.  And he turbo-boosted his look, y’know, the one with the eyebrow thing and the smirk thing.  Totally sexy.  Panty-dropper, even.

“I’m coming over there,” he repeated.

Underneath him, her legs pulled up to tuck against her chest.  She was trying to frown at him.  God, she was so bad at it– damn, he loved that.

“No, you’re not,” Mira told him.

His sweats caught and slid against the, frankly, ancient synth fabric of his couch as he crawled forward another couple inches.  His face was all menacing smirk.

“You’re not stopping this, it’s happening,” he informed her.

She shook her head furiously, biting her lip.  She added a layer to her defenses by clutching her datapad against her tucked legs.

But he continued his siege, prowling forward, the great apex predator of the Tempest storage room.  She watched him, absolutely failing at stifling her grin and sputtering with half-controlled giggles.  When he reached her side of the couch, he leaned his chest lightly against her knees and her datapad.  He stared down at her and smiled.  She gained some command of her face and managed to frown back.  But it looked painful, battling like it did with the dance in her dark eyes and the curve in her lips.

Liam– slowly, carefully– bent forward to bridge the gap between them.  He lightly brushed his lips against the furrow between her brows, and it instantly melted away.  Their mingled breath curled against their cheeks.  His heart throbbed with fondness.  When she leaned into him, he knew hers did too.

With the smallest of movements, he lifted his lips (staying only a feather-width away) and slid down to caress against that shallow bridge of her nose.  Her eyes fluttered, at turns gazing at him and flitting closed.

And he pulled down to hover, his lips over hers.  The closest thing to a kiss and yet the most painfully distant from it.  She sighed warmly (synthetic mint and lemon water) over him, and they closed the gap– who had moved first mattered little.  It was theirs and only complete with the both of them, and it made everything light and real and ephemeral and solid.

Liam drew back, and then, as she gazed up at him with her edges softened and his smile gentle–

He suddenly closed back in, and dragged his fully emergent, broad and flattened tongue up the side of her face.

“Psyche!” he shouted.

“Aaaeeeughh,” she wailed.

She pushed with her legs, and he fell back, laughing, into the couch.  He was absolutely rolling with cackles.

“You jerk.  You asshole,” she moaned, rubbing furiously at her face with her sweatshirt’s sleeve.

This just goaded him more, his laughter getting high-pitched and wheezy.  Tears started to leak out of the corner of his eyes.

“I’m leaving,” she announced.

But he lunged for her as she pulled up into a kneel.  She squawked as he got a bear-hold around her midsection.

“Nooo,” Liam gasped shrilly.

“Let go, you traitor!” Mira demanded.

And he kept giggling as they tussled, her wiggling as hard as she could to slither over the arm and down the side of the couch.  He ended up with an armful of flailing footsies.

” Ooof–” Liam grunted, letting go of her.

Mira awkwardly ended up in a pile beside the sofa.  She quickly popped up to see what had so quickly vanquished her opponent.  Liam still knelt on the beat-up cushions, a hand cupped carefully around his jaw.

“Are you okay?” she instantly asked.

She stood and went to him.  As her fingers pulled at his, trying to gently pry them away, he looked up at her with those big brown eyes of his.

And then he let her take his hand from his face.

And he smirked at her.

She just stood there for a moment, a little floored by his– jerky and conniving and– and horrible– jerkiness.  And he just sat there, smirking at her, as he watched the kaleidoscope of expression flying across her face.

So she pushed at his shoulder, and smashed a kiss on his dumb grinning mouth.

“You’re the worst,” she told him, climbing into his lap.

His voice was a little rough. “Yeah?”

His arms snaked around her, fingers sliding underneath her sweatshirt.  She sucked on his lip, tongue sweeping.

“A jerk,” she said.

“Mmhmm.”

Her fingers dug into the back of his neck, into his coarse curls.

“I hate you,” she whispered into his lips.

He smiled slowly.  Brought her closer, tight against his chest and his warmth.

“I’m glad.”

[sinceileftyoublog]

Riot Fest Review: 9/14-9/16

Beck

BY JORDAN MAINZER

Was it back to chaos for Riot Fest, which seems to find itself in some sort of trouble every few years? Okay, it’s not like they were in trouble with the city aldermen as in 2015. But they were facing lots of backlash from fans waiting ever so patiently for that second wave only to find out that previously announced headliner Blink 182 would be replaced by Weezer, Taking Back Sunday, and Run The Jewels--less than two weeks before the festival. The aftershows, daily lineups, and schedules were announced shortly thereafter, leaving full-time workers like me without time to hatch a plan to skip work and catch Liz Phair and Speedy Ortiz Friday before 2 PM. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to be an out-of-towner.

Nonetheless, at the actual festival, Riot Fest went on mostly smoothly. Lines for the entrance, port-a-potties, and beer were never excessive. The vibe was chill and strangely devoid of explicit contemporary politics. (I saw just as many awesome Mars Attacks! t-shirts as I did ill-advised joke MAGA hats--the count was, thankfully, a mere one). Per usual, the music was embedded in a previous era, bleeding down to even the stages you came across: I walked by right as K. Flay covered “Flagpole Sitta” and The Frights covered Shaggy’s “It Wasn’t Me”. 

But perhaps the most important difference was whereas in past festivals, I found it easy to be cynical, judgmental of empty punk idealism about being whatever you want to be in the face of more concrete structural issues relating to class, race, and gender (ok--Suicidal Tendencies signer Mike Muir offered plenty of eyeroll-worthy motivational speeches), this time around, the words and actions of many bands, plus their gratefulness and desire to put on a great show for the crowds, offered more weight than making a statement. Whether it was Weezer’s classy move to cover Blink’s “All The Small Things”, Father John Misty’s surprising lack of sarcastic banter, or the sound of classic Smiths songs coming from someone who isn’t an insufferable blowhard, Riot Fest this year seemed--dare I say it--nice? Of course, there was worthwhile activism. Pussy Riot’s performance (shouted out by Front Bottoms lead singer Brian Sella) carried weight due to recent news of a poisoning of spokesperson Pyotr Verzilov by the Russian government. Superchunk’s Mac McCaughan urged the crowd, simply, to “vote.” But the most inspiring was the simple earnestness of the bands, a feeling that came across as actually genuine.

Run The Jewels

Riot Fest 2018 celebrated music and life--and no set did so more effectively than Run The Jewels. “We came to burn this stage to the fucking ground,” declared Killer Mike before the duo (and their venerable DJ Trackstar) launched into Run The Jewels III highlights “Talk To Me”, “Legend Has It”, and “Call Ticketron”, the crowd embracing every opportunity presented to go nuts. “Gold” was dedicated to “the better half of the human species;” at various points throughout the night, Mike and El-P told the crowd to keep their hands to themselves, unafraid to point out that harassment predominantly affects women. (They missed an opportunity to perform sex positive anthem “Love Again”, though.) And then “Down” was dedicated to Mac Miller and, accordingly, anyone who has left the earth too early. Mike shared a moving, powerful story of visiting the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline and reflecting on his mother’s suicide attempt, imploring the crowd to reach out and take care of each other.

Beck

With the other headliners, Weezer and Beck, you knew what you were gonna get--a nostalgia trip, a good time, great bands, and unselfish frontmen. Rivers Cuomo and company burned through their hits, good and bad, and the hits of other bands, whether they were slated to play Riot Fest (the aforementioned Blink cover) or not (Green Day’s “Longview”, A-Ha’s “Take On Me”). Of course, Weezer proved they were still goofy, inevitably playing their hit cover of Toto’s “Africa” and ending their set with a minute of Black Sabbath’s “Paranoid”. Beck’s set, meanwhile, was all sheen, even the former fuzz and buzz of songs like set and Odelay opener “Devil’s Haircut” falling into the adept hands of dynamically smooth musicians. Beck’s harmonies with the synth, keytar, and tambourine players/backup singers thrived on songs that aren’t even really sung, like “Loser” and “New Pollution”. Midway through the set, the band went acoustic for “Lost Cause” and Morning Phase standout “Blue Moon”. Sure, the set was almost entirely lacking surprise, Beck introducing songs with unambiguous puns containing the titles. But the thrilling encore, which included “Where It’s At”, an introduction of every band member with an interpolation of a song showcasing their skills (Gary Numan joined here for his “Cars”), and “Where It’s At” again, was what truly merited the plethora of beach balls that were previously bouncing throughout the crowd during lesser, newer, poppier songs.

The Front Bottoms

Many bands earlier in the day brought the same level of positive energy. The two best pop punk sets I saw were from The Front Bottoms and The Wonder Years. The former band changed time signatures expertly, their secret weapon Jenn Fantaccione, who played everything from trumpet (“Vacation Town”) to ukulele (“Maps”) to violin (“The Beers”). Drummer Mathew Uychich, wearing a Cubs shirt, led the band’s disco breakdowns with fervor, while Sella, armed with an acoustic guitar and the power and clarity of his voice, brought the basement show to a stadium sized sound on “Cough It Out”, “Au Revoir (Adios)”, and “Twin Sized Mattress”. The Wonder Years were certainly less instrumentally dynamic but no less exhilarating, celebrating the release of this year’s Sister Cities by working the crowd to jump and scream along. Lead singer Dan "Soupy" Campbell did a little too much letting the crowd sing for my taste, but at least the band’s setlist was structured admirably, saving highlights from their previous three albums, like “There, There”, “Cardinal”, and “Came Out Swinging” for moments of equal reflection and excitement. And Superchunk, while not quite pop punk, played a set that was nonstop anthems. Many of the songs from this year’s What a Time to Be Alive stood out, Jon Wurster effortlessly translating the title track’s beat, Jason Narducy’s high notes filling in admirably for Katie Crutchfield on “Erasure” (the crowd did the baritone of Stephen Merritt) and Laura Ballance on “Break The Glass”.

Superchunk

Now Cat Power was there for those who craved something different. Very soft, admittedly better for Pitchfork, Chan Marshall’s buttery, beautiful voice isolated amidst hints of synthesizer, guitars, and drums was nonetheless a refuge from sets that lacked subtlety. She started with a couple songs from Moon Pix and the title track to her upcoming Wanderer, which features Lana Del Rey (Marshall covered Del Rey’s “White Mustang” during her set). Marshall has a known history of stage fright due to substance abuse, which has subsided and been replaced by a funny and empathetic stage presence. For some reason, she pretended to hit baseballs into the crowd during “Metal Heart”--it was wonderful. Any sound issues that came up were resolved with sensitivity among band members. The crowd was enraptured. Marshall left the stage with a salute, mentioning that you’re supposed to salute a certain way to signify you’ve never lost a war. Well, she’s lost a few wars but is all the more powerful for it.

Cat Power

HEALTH put on an obliterating set laden with sound issues to the point the band had to cut it short. They claimed the heat was affecting their guitar pedals and synths but didn’t really offer excuses. Instead, they made it work, grateful for the crowd’s patience and devotion to the spiraling head-banging of John Famiglietti and pouding drums of BJ Miller. The tender, soft vocals of Jake Duzsik undercut the darkness of the music on songs like “New Coke”. Even Elvis Costello, recovering from cancer treatment, found a way to overcome his obstacles. If he had trouble keeping up with his own verses, his voice and guitar playing were still on point, making you realize why “Miracle Man”, “Pump It Up”, and “Radio, Radio” were classics in the first place.

There are always bones to pick with a festival. Mostly, as compared to previous years, this year’s full album plays were underwhelming, and the fest missed out on opportunities for other full plays (Interpol doing Turn On The Bright Lights instead of half of their set being post-Antics material would have been amazing). But considering the circumstances, Riot Fest--like its best performers--went on despite odds and troubles and succeeded through its unselfishness and confident curation.