#iamexodus

[whatwastelanders]

If they had a kid: Baptiste/Nessie

[Prompt]

Name: Noah Lochsley Caron

Gender: Female

General Appearance: Shoulder length dark hair, warm brown eyes, typically sporting a confident smirk and her father’s Boomer jacket. Wears mechanics overalls 80% of the time. 

Personality: Confident; spiteful; competitive; adaptive; controlling; ambitious. Noah knows what, when, and how she wants things done and isn’t afraid to take control of a situation. 

Special Talents: Proficient with making explosives; most “speech” skills (ie bartering, intimidation, etc)

Who they like better: Nessie.

Who they take after more: Nessie.

Personal Headcanon: Noah grew up an outgoing, curious and somewhat bossy child with a penchant for getting herself into and promptly out of trouble. She picked up many skills as she got older, preferring to rely on herself rather than the help of others. Her skill with explosives and speech (seemingly being able to crack even the most tight-lipped person around) caught the attention of the Railroad. Noah joined on under the alias Silvertongue and made a name for herself as one of the most efficient agents when it comes to information gathering... and leveling a building full of aggressive Gen 1 synths.

Faceclaim: Naomi Scott

[thawedwonder]

“ i just feel like everything is falling apart. “

[Prompt]

“Take a breath,” she said softly, reaching out for Nixon’s hand to guide her towards the couch, concern clear on her face. “Do you want something to eat or drink? To talk? To just... sit here quietly for a little bit?”

[motorcycle-noises-and-rocks-blog]

@iamexodus

She was just about to turn the corner when an imposing figure suddenly stood in her way. Just barely avoiding smashing into him, she jerked to a halt. The voice was familiar, and at first, Nixon didn’t think much of it. It wasn’t until she glanced up at him briefly and saw his face she understood the gravity of the situation. Fuck. Shit. Damn.

“Don’t believe what?” she asked, playing dumb, slowly stepping back the way she had come from.

No no no no no no no no. He had done so well, avoiding active synths in the area, making sure that the Institute got no indication that he was still alive. The last thing he wanted was other Coursers coming to ‘reclaim’ him. And this, this was a face that he remembered from the sterile halls of the Institute.

“Oh, uh... I-” He swallowed quickly, working to suppress the panicked look that had come unbidden to his face. “Sorry, I thought I recognized you.” He wanted to leave, to just keep walking, but the risk of being discovered was looming over him. He didn’t want to go back. Glancing over her face, hoping for some detail that would tell him that this wasn’t who he thought it was, he eventually came to the conclusion that she was indeed a synth he had seen before. A quick glance past her and the sounds reaching his ears told him that there was no one else nearby.

The Courser’s expression began to battle between near-hostile defiance and panic, and he drew himself up tall in front of her. “I do recognize you,” he said, voice more firm, though his anxiety still showed in it. “You can’t tell them. I’m not going back.”

[fogeyedmarksman]

“An old friend once told me something that gave me great comfort.”

[Prompt]

Boyd looked over at her, still not feeling quite okay himself, but willing to listen to anything that might help at this point. His chest was heavy, and his nerves felt frayed to their ends. Maybe this would be something to help ease his discomfort in the aftermath of the situation.

“What was that?”

[enduredparadise]

“ teach me how to kiss? ” Nixon

[Prompt]

Andy nearly choked on his Nuka Cola. He looked over at Nixon and offered her a small, uncertain smile, before reaching over to pull the glass she had been drinking from out of her reach.

“I think you’ve had enough of that.”

@iamexodus

[101wastelanders]

💚 for Nixon! I think the thing we're putting them through could possibly forge a bond or some kind (Or destroy everything - who knows?)

Yeeeah, that whole plot is a ‘make it or break it’ kinda thing isn’t it? xD that said, Nixon wouldn’t mind being Rick’s friend. In fact, that would be her preferred outcome of it all. He’ll be getting a pretty good look at her dirty laundry, and that makes her feel vulnerable.

[greaseratrepair]

❝ What the hell happened? ❞ Nixon

[Prompt]

"They wired it backwards!” Gage shouted, coughing and waving the air to clean the smoke. He pushed Nixon out of the shop, yanking the garage door open as he did and coughed a few more times.

“Those dumb shits wired it backwards. No wonder it kept backfiring like that. I’m surprised it didn’t burn their whole house down.”

@iamexodus

[whataradscavver]

❝ I wanna jump inside your pants. ❞

[Prompt]

He blinked, uncertain of her meaning. It took every ounce of willpower he could muster, but he managed to suppress the urge to make a filthy joke, and instead cracked a lopsided grin.

“Gonna be a bit too long for yeh, lass... an’ t’ere ain’t much room when I’m wearin’ ‘em meself.”

[wastebcrn]

“You don’t have to hide from me. I’m trying to help you. I won’t hurt you, I promise.”

kidnapped/imprisoned starter sentences // accepting!!

But only an uneasy growl rose to match the words, a heavy fog dissipating in the gloom. A predatory glow blinked to life between rusted bars - damn those bars - and he took in the form.

It was not fear but caution that held the beast back; in his wordless mind he was self-assured in the iron-coils of muscle, the steel of his hide, his sovereignty unchallenged. But such a thing was useless without caution, and lacking that had lead to where he was now.

Or perhaps that was simply due to his unbearing curiosity. Either or, Grott was not going to repeat a mistake.

Slowly he rose from his rest, though having to stoop at the near-electric sensation of metal against his spines. A dual urge to both lunge forth and do nothing tore within him, to drive off this human-but-not.

At the same time, it was that very thing; her unnatural scent, her calming tone, that held him back - she was not those who mobbed him, who forced him to slumber and locked him away as a prize. Her hands empty of the prods that burned to touch. 

One step; two. His foul-sweet breath hissing out as he approached- forked tongue tasted the air between bars, snorting irritably as the chain about his ankle drew him just shy of claw-reach of the girl.

[forgiveyesterday]

“I’m a synth. Synthetic woman. All the parts, minus a few red blood cells. But I guess you knew that already.”

[Prompt]

“I didn’t, or... I dunno, maybe I did at one point,” he replied honestly, shrugging his shoulders. “Somethings are fuzzy, other things... I can’t get out of my head.”

[whatwastelanders]

Kid Meme: Asher/Nixon

[Prompt]

Name: Justine Dawson

Gender: Female

General Appearance: Dark brown hair, always brushed and kept out of her face, usually cut just above her shoulders. Brown eyes, slender frame. Dresses for comfort rather than fashion, but is most commonly seen in grey or green coveralls due to her work. 

Personality: Creative; clever; adaptive. Honest; controlling; tolerant.

Special Talents: Hacking and programming. Dawson has a love for robotics and often builds and modifies her own.

Who they like better: Nixon

Who they take after more: Nixon

Personal Headcanon: The Institute orphaned Dawson, so the Railroad raised her. While Asher was never someone Desdemona would have approved of, she didn’t get much choice in the matter as it was Nixon who was tasked with finding a safe place for Dawson to grow up. Despite the challenges, Dawson blossomed under her new parentage: both of whom supported and encouraged her every whim while providing clear and understood boundaries. Once she became of age, Dawson volunteered with the Railroad while also practicing her favorite hobby: robotics. On the surface, Dawson is a simple robotics expert who’s skills can be bought by those in need. While Dawson may disagree with some of the Railroad’s procedures, she does what she can to help provide escaped Synths with better futures.

Faceclaim: Clark Backo

[thawedwonder]

“ is this a gift for me? “

[Prompt]

“Yeah. Consider it a ‘thank you’ for keeping my ass in one piece on that last job we did together,” she explained with a sincere smile, giving the gift in question a gentle wiggle towards Nixon.

“Don’t be shy.”

[deadendtheatre]

“ hey! i’ve got something for you! wait right here! “

[Prompt]

Ian paused in his step, turning towards the familiar voice with furrowed brows. A small smile quirked his lips and he tilted his head slightly. 

“Oh? For me? Nixon, you shouldn’t have.”

[fogeyedmarksman]

❤ ☕ - Nixon approached him from the left, reaching out to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Hey, you alright?" She asked, her hand sliding down to rest on his back. "I know we had a lot thrown at us back there, and I just wanted to check up on you."

[Prompt]

Quiet. He was being too quiet. Not that he wasn’t quiet normally, but he knew this was too much. Especially since he was fairly certain Nixon had spoken to him at least three times before she resorted to touching him.

He jerked slightly, not having heard her - or seen her - approach, and suddenly he was back in reality. Boyd looked over at her, his good eye glazed, as if he wasn’t really seeing her, but looking through her, before he blinked and focused on her face. 

Then he focused on the words she was speaking. Oh, she wanted to know if he was alright. That was nice. He nodded, his tongue too heavy to move at the moment. By the time she was done talking, he had found his voice again.

“Mhm, I’m alright,” he said, though he didn’t meet her eyes when he said it. Instead, he reached up, wiping at his good eye with his sleeve, as if he were tired.

“Just need some shuteye, is all.”

[enduredparadise]

“Can I offer you a drink?”

[Prompt]

“Oh, sure, but only if I can return the favor,” he replied with a bright grin, genuinely surprised that the stranger had offered to treat him to a drink. Then again, it could be some kind of trick, but he could dream, couldn’t he?

[takingindependence]

“Man, I don’t know who you are, but your timing’s impeccable.”

[Prompt]

“Name’s Jane,” she said quickly, offering the woman a bright smile despite their situation. Pistol in hand, she peeked around the corner from where the pair were currently crouched, trying to get a line of sight on the super mutants that had stumbled upon them. 

“Are you familiar with the building we’re in, or did you just hunker down in here like me because it was the closest place with a roof and walls?”