#i seriously think i can't write deacon to save my life

[fallout4-reacts]

An actual prompt this time! I know you're busy and have plenty of things to write yet, take your time.

Soo I was thinking that maybe companions (and Maxson) horribly failing at confessing to Sole. Like for example they could clear out some Raiders, companion is impressed, tries to confess BAM Sole gets fucking decked by random raider they didn't kill. I feel like you could get pretty creative with that one. Like deathclaws, something exploding, just settlers running in, other companions interrupting etc.

Yeah! Sorry for my waiting list but this one just take me out of my bed literally Maybe it's better then just writing nothing and you all will forgive me... I will not taking it as an habit but it was just what I needed I think And maybe an EPIC ask... I think it will be (not in the sense I'll do an epic job, in the sense hmmm Titan Quest like the F.E.V. one and all) Oh, and take note you ask for... horribly

Part 1

Danse / Deacon / Nick Valentine

(Part 2 : Hancock, Preston, Strong)

(Part 3 : X6-88 alone because of a bug)

(Part 4 : Gage, MacCready, Piper)

(Part 5 : Cait, Curie, Codsworth, Dogmeat, Elder Maxson)

Danse : Sole returns. Sole returns to the bunker after a few days. Danse had time to clean and make the space more comfortable. He didn't consider establishing his new camp there because, after all, he didn't consider living at all.

But now he did.

And Sole came back.

Danse kept himself occupied during his few days alone, trying not to worry about what was happening to him. But he pondered his new envision of himself. Beyond the initial distaste, he felt a sense of conviction, similar to how Sole stood.

Whatever he is, he is a person with convictions for which he fought. He was a man of honor —a synth?— whose his brothers and sisters could trust.

He'd come a long way. His damned way into this group that turned his back on him after he had dedicated his blood and soul for them. And Maxson, whom he almost considered a friend, treated him as if he were a worm to be crushed.

After being reassured that he agreed with Sole on his right to life, his thoughts couldn't help but wander.

He recalls Sole standing in front of him, defending him against Maxson.

And even more.

More, a lot more.

He can't help but replay in his mind all of these events, all of these moments. When Sole emerged as an avenging angel, slaying all the ghouls in their way, Danse was convinced that his squad's final hour had arrived. They entered the paladin's life as a mythical entity, too great for regular mortals, an enigmatic spirit of the times sent to save them.

Then there's how they forced a comedy at Fort Strong while killing mutants. Danse had admonished them a few times for their lack of seriousness in the face of a critical assignment, but he couldn't keep a smile from rising on his face in the midst of their antics.

And all of their nonsense, every time they could.

Danse had pieced together Sole's intentions and the horror of their past, and he couldn't help but admire this person's trustworthiness. When Danse expressed concern about Sole's moral status following such heinous ordeals, Sole merely grinned and remarked that the companionship they were blessed with helped them get through.

Even after they returned from the Institute, learning the injurious truth, they had held on, had rounded the corner, and Danse felt better to know he had been by their side to help. To morally support them.

And now that Sole is standing in front of Danse again, slightly smiling and wondering what's next for him, Danse feels his throat tighten.

Because Danse has realized that he has strong affections for Sole.

Much more than a simple friendship.

He nods slowly.

"Perhaps we should consider venturing to Sanctuary. I am unable to endure it any further. First and foremost, I am a soldier, and a soldier without a purpose doesn't progress very far. I humbly express my desire to align myself with the esteemed Minutemen's structure. In the utmost, their cause is righteous, and they shall not forsake me nor open fire upon me. I have received word that their General harbors a troubling acceptance towards synths."

"They tolerate and love them a lot," Sole admits with a half-smile.

They proceed without adding anything. Thus far north, there is no road that crosses directly, at least not according to Sole. As best they can, they cross the countryside in wreckage, cutting valleys and hills.

And Danse remains quiet, lost in introspection.

Yes, he likes Sole a lot more than simply as a friend. There's a lot more. Soon, Sole will return to their Rail Road operations, to which Danse has never been requested (and he now understands why), while Danse will begin his Minutemen duties, most likely limited to the Castle for the time of his training. And, while it appeared to him at first to be the finest way to fill his days, he now has a peculiar uneasiness at the prospect of leaving Sole without delivering anything of what he feel upon them.

They are in the midst of the wreckage of a plane that crashed there two centuries ago. They passed through a few Minutemen (apparently, it is in the profession to check out every nook and cranny of the Commonwealth), but they are now alone and isolated in front of the cabin of the downed craft.

He clears his throat slightly in an attempt to catch the attention of his partner.

Sole looks at him.

"Something's wrong, Danse?"

When the realization occurs to the fallen Paladin that he would never again have his title before his name, he swallows hard. But that's not the issue he's having right now.

"I…I'm not really a man of words but…"

Sole erupts in laughter.

"Are you not a man of words? Yes, you ate a dictionary at birth!"

For a few whiles, the poor man panics, unable to restore balance after the sting of Sole. He had seized his courage in both hands in an attempt to open his heart, and his partner had fallen back into amusement. But he needs to tell them. He has to. He knows deep down that he has to.

"Sole, please."

They instantly calm down, recognizing that the man in front of them appears to be death serious.

"Oh, sorry."

"Don't be like that. What I'm trying to say is this—

Sole's expression shifts from calm to dread in an instant, while Danse hears the anger of a beast he despises beyond all in his back. He despises her much more now that she's interfering in such an important situation.

He turns, weapon in hand, to fully answer to the deathclaw, and then follows a long and deadly combat. The beast is fierce and perhaps ancient, and it not easily defeated.

When they eventually prevail against the monster, with a few bites and scratches here and there, Danse don't dare trying again to express himself. And Sole now has to patch them up as soon as they find out a settlement, so they regretfully didn't think to inquire furthermore.

Deacon : His deathly bunny and he jumped into a plethora of wolf dens. Nothing, however, tops being in his favorite den.

The spy like it when Sole stays for the evening and then retires to the back of the HQ for a well-deserved rest. Despite the fact that he does not require sleep himself —as a synth, eh— he enjoys lying on the mattress next to Sole when they ask it, with a roll of the eyes at his answer.

They normally spend a few more moments on their mattresses talking about everything and nothing until one of them falls asleep —more often then none Sole, because Deacon is a synth, yup.

"Tell me again how he almost swallowed his beard."

Sole bursts out laughing.

"I told him to go to hell. That I was only in their camp for my friend Danse, and that by turning their back on him, the entire organization may roast, I would never support them again. Anyway, it's irrelevant now. Let them go to fight like the big boys they are against this blasted Institute and get the heck out of my territory."

Deacon like it when Sole becomes engrossed. The fire in their eyes awakens his heart's hearth. He would never have confessed to them. Never. Never previously has it's not have seems important.

There is still a serious moment, which Sole elaborates on.

"It's very little Deacon, to remain silent and, moreover, serious. What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing, you know. There isn't much to eat here. Perhaps a programming error. Perhaps I should run a diagnostic."

Sole's chuckling is priceless. Deacon smiles quietly as he listens to the pleasant melody in his ears. They stare at him again when his friend grows still serious.

They sit on the mattress and motion for Deacon to do the same. As he straightens, the spy stares down. Sole is right. He has words on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn't dare to voice them for the first time in his holy life. Sole gently takes his hands in their, searching for his eyes.

"Deacon, you know you can tell me anything?"

The man glances into the other side and swallows cautiously. Yes, he has the right to tell Sole anything. But what about that? Can he? He has to. He has a debt to Sole. He owes them a frank and honest sincerity. And even the thought seems weird to him. A straightforward and open sincerity? He has no recollection of what it tastes like.

"I'll be honest then," he says, hesitantly, as if he must step into the void. "It's been a while since I should have told you."

He takes a deep breath, ready to blow it all, when an unusually powerful vibration is noticed.

Sole turns their gaze towards the headquarters, and suddenly they hear screaming and gunshots.

"But…"

Deacon leaps to his feet. This kind of roar his still heard in his worst nightmares. Just like the day the Coursers assaulted the old HQ. But isn't Tinker Tom meant to put cameras? How did the Coursers gain access to the facility, this time?

"The Brotherhoods!" yells someone from within.

Sole and Deacon are already on the front lines of defense, positioning themselves to hold the soldiers for as long as it takes for the others to flee. They didn't even need to talk. With Gloria, they hold the line and exchange gunshots with their enemies, keeping them in respect for so long that Deacon is confident their friends will have no problem to disappear in the ruins of Boston. Gloria then makes a strangled gasp and collapses to her knees, her gun no longer firing shots. Deacon peers at her, fear on his face as he realizes his friend has been badly shot.

"Glo!"

A grunt and a thud behind his back make him fear the worst. He attempts to hold the BoS at bay, but his weapon is too slow without Gloria's gatling and Sole's assault rifle.

Desperate, he throws a couple of grenades into the tunnel to gain time, and he manages to push the invaders back slightly.

He rushes alongside Sole right away.

"Eh!"

His friend clutches their bowels in agony, or what remains of them. Deacon wraps his arms around them and softly cradles them.

"Don't worry, everything will be alright. Let's go locate Carrington."

As he glances around, searching in the room... he realizes that the doctor is among the casualties. He growls and attempts to drag Sole further away, hoping to hide them.

"We're going to get through this," he said. "We're going to get through this, I promise" he repeats dejectedly.

“Liar,” breaths Sole before becoming limp in his arms.

Nick Valentine : They came to a halt near the GNN, in the ruins of an abandoned house of which he believes was once a settlement.

He finds it weird that the occupants simply vanished overnight, leaving no trace.

It happens occasionally, such as at University Point, although there are traces. There are dead settlers, downed synths, evidence, and clues.

But here, just the emptiness of tranquility, as if no one had lived there since the war.

But Sole is worn out, hungry, and thirsty, and all he wants is one evening off, possibly one night.

While his companion actually runs aground on a dingy old mattress in the living room of the modest house, Nick ensures that nothing threatens them. When the synth returns from his excursion, his partner hasn't moved one inch.

He moves careful closer.

"Well, ya gotta keep that belly of yours satisfied. And imbibing a beverage would assuredly be a wise course of action."

He was met with a growl in response. He looked around. The previously residents provided a fire pit. He reaches over, takes Sole's bag, and begins cooking something for them.

"I'll rouse you from your slumber once the soup is ready."

Another grunt joins in. He can't help but sneering. Of course, he finds a cauldron (even two) and every necessary instrument in Sole's backpack to prepare the thrifty dinner. Water canes, carrots, and a piece of meat that he starts cutting into small cubes. He whistles merrily, converting himself into a maid of the household, as he frequently does with Sole.

"Ah, the pangs of nostalgia for the flavors of garlic and cilantro doth visit me on occasion. Parsley and mint!

“Salt, pepper,” Sole mumbles under their arm, their head shifting slightly to reach a more comfortable position.

Nick digs deeper into the bag and uncovers a pepper and salt shaker.

"Well, I must say, this here stuff seems to possess quite the remarkable dose of radiation, and it should lacks any discernible flavor."

“Still good,” corrects the other.

Nick chuckles a little and adds the condiments, pleased to be able to improve the soup he's making.

He sits down and glances around the room while waiting for the meal to be ready. It had to have been a nice house. Here had to live a lovely little family. He takes note of the stairs. The bedrooms should be on the second floor. Children, most likely. A pleasant existence.

Normal.

His gaze is drawn to the limp figure on the mattress. His artificial lips slowly form a tiny smile. Sole, in all their magnificence, is a stunning, authoritarian, and noble individual. But the visual of Sole spread out, blindly trusting their companion for safety, entirely abandoned to the sleep that stole them, is something that few can boast of seeing.

And Nick owns it.

He has it all and meticulously details his friend.

And once more, this odd sensation arises in the hollow of his components.

It happens from time to time. Often. More and more. When their gazes cross. When they cheer at a triumph. When a file is closed. When they're simply the two of them at the end of an evening by the fire. When Sole departs for a while and then reappears on his doorstep.

And Nick can no longer mislead himself.

He experiences a feeling. This is not a programming error. His circuits are flawless in that. It's just a true, intense, genuine emotion.

He serves a bowl of soup and kneels next to Sole, softly shaking their shoulder.

"Stand up, Sleeping Beauty, lunch is served!"

Sole scolds and growls but sit in front of Nick, gratefully taking the bowl that their friend hands them. They begin to eat it carefully, as if lost in contemplation. And Nick can't stop admiring them, always fascinated by the elegance of their features and the brightness in their eyes.

His companion frowns as they glance back at him. "I got something stick in my teeth?"

Nick sighs and laughs a little.

"There's absolutely nothin' on here. None of it, pal."

"So what?"

"It seems that this, ah, old carcass of mine hasn't been spinning as smoothly as I'd prefer for quite some time now."

Sole places the dish on the ground, their face etched with anguish and earnestness.

"Nick, what's wrong?"

The synth is astonished.

"Oh, nothing to be awry. Not quite how you're envisioning it. It's just a tough nut to crack."

"Say so, and we'll figure it out together. Perhaps I am able to help you."

He places a sympathetic hand on Nick's metal one, the synth constantly amazed at how tactile Sole is with him despite his nature.

"How can you…help me?"

Even though Sole is the organic, it's Nick who swallows with difficulty. He lowers his head, his eyes hidden by the brim of his fedora, but Sole's hand rises from his to tuck beneath his chin.

"Hello, I'm here. I will always be there for you. No matter what."

After getting some good breaths, Nick takes the plunge to opens his bag. He opens his mouth to respond, but then a radroach erupts between them, knocking the bowl of soup over and driving both to rush to their feet and draw their weapons.

After the "vicious" opponent is dispatched, a nice laugh and a new bowl of soup, Sole raises an eyebrow.

"But what did you want to tell me, before our surprise guest wasted your delicious soup?"

Nick swallows and makes a dismissive hand motion.

"Nothin', absolutely nothin'. Drop it..."

[monochromemedic]

Just a Bug

Deacon surveyed the area, walking in circles around me and peaking his head up and down in almost a comical matter. I rolled my eyes, adjusting my coat and trying not to trip over his fancy footwork. “Are you getting a good layout of the land, Stretch?”  “Eh could be better. I could get Tinker Tom to get me some killer stilts. You think that’d be intimidating? I mean if anyone walks around in stilts for fun around here, i’d be shaking in my sneakers.” He decreed. “I’ll bring it up to him, see what he thinks. If anyone can make it look easy, it’s Tom.” “Certainly make you taller. A real babe, people love tall men. Would just probably need to wear a long trench coat.” I snickered, placing a hand on his shoulder as he continued to walk around, giving a dramatic, dancer like spin. “I could make it work. Ask anyone in the Railroad, I can make any disguise work. Little known fact, before all of this railroad stuff went down, I got contacted by some model agencies.” He smirked, taking my hand and spinning me as well before letting me go to stumble a little before walking in my intended direction. “Uh-huh... which ones?” “Some thing for Diamond City advertising. They wanted more people to come so they thought that some old school advertising would do the deed. I declined, I’m a humble sort of guy.” I didn’t respond,  instead just watching as he circled around my front again, a cocky smirk on his face. I was stopped again by his hand on my shoulder, turning me to look at a slumped red smudge in the distance.

“Hold up. Take a gander.” I raised an eyebrow, already reaching for my small pistol. “Looks big. I can’t really make it out.” I stepped forward a bit and squinted before resting my hovering hand to my side.  “Brahmin corpse.” “Hell yeah. You know what this means? If it’s fresh, I don’t have to eat some rat meat we found in the sewer! That’s like... two levels higher in the meat scale.” He grinned, running over to the body, giving a little hop as he approached. “Oh that is... RIPE.” he coughed, covering his face as he approached. “Yeah no shit what would you expect-” I was cut off as I saw something flutter by the corpse. Out of the guts and sinew of the mutated calf, a bloodbug rose, head twitching and legs wiping the old blood from it’s huge eyes. I froze, breath caught in my throat as I choked on my own spit. I could see it. Rising higher, quick movements, a sharp thrust through the neck of my friend. Gurgling, gasping, stabbing over and over. Another lost family, another lost friend. Deacon must have seen my face and turned around, quickly stumbling back as he pulled out his own pistol, giving a quick and precise shot to the bug’s wing, causing it to fall the the ground, twitching and writhing around. “Hey maybe, I don’t know, say ‘Hey Deacon, big bug behind you’” He huffed, walking over to the giant mosquito, stomping on it’s head to finish it off before jumping at the splatter it made. He wiped the sole of his shoe against the ground, sticking his tongue out slightly before turning towards me. “Hey uh... you’re still pale you doing ok? I promise i’m not that mad, it was one of those famous Deacon lies.” I was too busy staring at the splattered remains, head ringing with the sound of my own heartbeat.  ‘It was gone. It was ok. It was over. Breathe.’ I tried to tell myself only to give a ragged gasp as I was knocked out of my own haze by Deacon’s hands on my shoulders. “’Ay easy, easy.... You look ready to pass out. Are you really scared of bugs? I never took you as one of those uh... insect...phobes. Whatever they’re called...” Deacon’s face was joking, but I knew him well enough to see through the small facades. He was concerned. A small downturn of his mouth, his forehead scrunching. I couldn’t help myself. I pushed myself against his chest, trying to grab him with my clammy hands to stay steady. I was so happy he was ok. It was just one why was I so scared, did I really think he couldn’t handle one stupid mosquito? My grip tightened but the thought of the outcome being different made me weak in the knees. “Woah, woah ok, ok joking over, we’re uh just gonna sit on the ground now.” Deacon hissed, slowly lowering the both of us to the ground.   “What’s going on with you? Do you need... water? Food, did you eat today? Hey come on this isn’t funny you’re actually starting to break my cool facade.” I tried to speak, giving a little choked breath before managing to speak. “Bug... t...the bug.”  “Ok, ok  it’s dead, it’s literally on my heels ok? Trust me i’m a real good bug swatter, practically a professional.” He tried to joke, giving a little grin before realizing that I wasn’t in the joking mood.  He sighed after a few moments of pause,  taking his hand  and lightly patting my back. His touch was comforting, especially from him of all people. I knew he wasn’t the most touchy-feely of guys, so even this showed that he cared.  I thought he’d try to go on, try to say some other remark but he was silent, instead just letting the nothing fill the air. “I don’t like them.” “I... yeah I can tell” He muttered “I... watched them kill alot... of people. In my settlement. It was a swarm. I don’t know where they came from but they just... swarmed and alot of people died, only a few got out.” I whispered against him, not wanting to show my face. I was scared but also ashamed.  Bloodbugs were deadly, hell anything in the Commonwealth was a danger but of the possible things, it was some of the more tame things. I waited for him to speak but he was quiet, maybe thinking? Waiting for me to speak more? I decided to be the first speak. “I know it’s dumb. It was a weird... freak accident. I shouldn’t be as scared of them as I should be but I just... I keep seeing it. People being drained, blood everywhere, stabbing, the fucking gurgling. I can’t... I thought you were gonna...”  “Verdant Wash? You were from Verdant Wash, we had a safe house around there.” Deacon’s voice was soft as moved away, enough so I could look at him. “That... that shit was bad. I heard about it, an entire swarm of blood bugs on this little settlement. Like a plague. No you shouldn’t be sorry about being scared of that, that’s normal. I wouldn’t expect any normal person to just be able to see that and be ok.” He whispered, voice low. “But... it’s something to work on yeah. I promise you i’m not gonna go down like that. I’m way too stubborn, and got way too much blood. We work on the fear with you and me being a lying asshole, and we can just... back and forth. Bam, bam, bam, bam and we’ll be like... ten times awesome-er then before you got me?” I searched his face, smiling, confident. If it wasn’t Deacon being so cocky i’d yell at him. Scream that he didn’t know what it was like that it was just a joke to him but from the time i’d spent with him I knew he was being honest. Trying to cheer me up, trying to help in the only way he could, jokes and confidence. I glared at the ground, small bits of blood and bug littering the area. “Bam, bam, bam.” I repeated, taking my hands and slightly smacking the sides of his stubble head. His grin widened as he laid back dramatically on the ground before hopping up. “Not what I thought i’d get but i’ll accept it! Come on, I think we could split a steak from the bramin. You know, I might even give you the good half.” I grabbed his hand and pulled myself from the ground, and began to take my knife out for Deacon to see what he could salvage from the beast; but not before I let my grip tighten, giving him a non verbal thank you. I could tell by the way he cockily joked about slicing his hand with the knife while trying to grab it that he got what I meant.  It wasn’t alot, it didn’t need to be alot at times. The little comforts we gave each other when things got rough. Sometimes even the little we could give was enough to make it through the day. I knew he’d always try to be there for me, even if he did lie through his teeth most of his life. And he knew that i’d try to be there for him whenever he’d begin to open himself up more to me.

[satans-left-asscheeky]

Fo4 Companions + faction leaders react to Sole with a mini gun arm

Okay so the ask got eaten. But the lovely @goatta-be-kidding-me asked for companions plus faction leaders reacting to sole with a mini gun arm. Thanks for the ask sorry I had such problems posting it 💖💖💖

Totally SFW!!! Under a readmore because there is 18 different character reactions! went a bit overboard hope you don't mind, but I had a lot of fun!

Maccready

"Woahhh, where'd ya get that? I don't even wanna think about how many caps that thing cost...."

He thinks it's badass! He wants one. why didn't he get a metal arm? If you ever seen captain America civil war there's this scene where spider man goes up to the winter soldier and is all like "woe you have a metal arm 🥺🥺🥺" and that's mac

Hancock

"Well look at you! I know some sick bastards who would kill to get there hands on one of those bad boys"

He thinks it's dope af. If he ever loses an arm he's totally gonna get a mini gun attached instead. I mean come on think of all the fun you could have with a mini gun arm!

Cait

"Well damn there lad/lass remind me not to get on yer bad side!"

Are you kidding? Why hadn't she thought of that! it's bloody brilliant and definitely would have saved her a lot of shiners back at the combat zone

Danse

"What an outstanding piece of technology! Good work soldier."

We already know he has a power armour fetish but this? this was the next best thing and he was hooked on the look. Seriously though he thinks it's awesome and so is sole he's writing a detailed report of their greatness and sending it straight to maxson

Curie

"Madame/Monsieur I can't say attaching a weapon to your arm is the safest!"

She'd be worried sole would accidentally shoot themselves in their sleep.

Deacon

"Woaaahhh there buddy! Your code name should definitely be terminator... trust me."

If you think he liked sole before when he vouched for them, he likes them so much better now that they just blew up raiders with their frickin arm! Just wait until Tinker Tom sees this!

Piper

"So let's get the obvious outta the way. What's up with the arm?"

She wouldn't bring it up until she had sole in her office doing the infamous interview, and then it would seem it's all she could talk about.

Nick

"Well I've seen a lot in my time kid, but I gotta say this is a first."

They'd get a long swell. He liked having a slightly more metallic companion... they understood they need to carry around motor oil all the time too. Oh and WD40....

Preston

"Well I was gonna ask you to get the mini gun up on the roof, but it looks like you've got it covered..."

He was surrounded by Raiders in concord and a literal prewar cybor came and saved the day? life was strange.

X6-88

"Father never mentioned this.... Curious."

He found it intriguing but wouldn't bring it up unless necessary. He was intrigued, but he also understood his place. He was a machine not an equal thus for he shouldn't question what doesn't need to be questioned

Maxson

"When I first saw the mini gun mentioned in Danses report I assumed there had been an error...."

Wow. Just wow. He wasn't mad... he was just wow. Was this technology turn amuck or badass? It was fusing of man and metal, but perhaps no more than a suit of power armour? he'll let it slide. this time.

Desdemona

"Well I must admit I have had heavys use mini guns in the past, this approach is all new. Wear it well agent."

Maybe this will give the railroad some sort of edge against the institute? She doesn't know either way its cool as hell and Deacon and Tom won't shut up about it either.... and glory was practically drooling over it.

Father/Shaun

"I'm assuming this new attachment is a recent development? I don't have any records of it in my data...."

He sure hopes so. The image of his parent holding his fragile infant body with one warm flesh arm and the other a cold metal weapon was terrifying

Gage

"Knew I picked a good one to go up against Colter!"

Damn was he proud. He'd have his chest puffed out as he walked with the new overboss down to fizz top. All these other morons may be dumb but no one could deny soles raw badass talent and that had him exactly where he needed to be. Perfect

Longfellow

"Captain I've seen a lot.... But a mini gun? How's it not weighing you down? If my boat starts sinking I'm throwing ya off first"

Hes serious if you weight him down his throwing you off, but he does think it's cool. over the top, but cool.

Nisha

"Well I must say I prefer the slow cutting pain of a knife, this has to be a close second...."

Nisha has a crush.... no one thought it possible for her to flirt, but here she is?

Mason

"Now all we need is another cyborg and the two of yous can fight it to the death!"

Hes not joking either... just because he has animal fights doesn't mean he's above human fights that make the combat zone look humane

Mags

"I can see all the prewar headlines... to bad we don't live back then coulda made a hell of a profit..."

She thinks it's cool, if not a tad intimidating... I mean the boss literally sleeps with a gun, bathes with a gun, shits with a gun. Their never not defended.