#space core x Curie

[valentinesapprentice]

slammed this out in 2 hours. I LOVE THEM !!! also, peep my space core human design. Curie x Space Core ftw !!!!

There's a vague, barely there story/au/ crossover thing that brought this to life, sorta like "Rise Of The Brave Tangled Dragons". Maybe if I flesh it out, I'll post about it one day...

[darling-i-read-it]

Digestivo

3x07

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham 

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2.9k 

Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, murder, dead bodies, blood, surgery, canniblism  

Author’s Note: ugh this one is so sad because we’re in the home stretch and UGH i hope you guys enjoy (?) it 

I used some direct quotes from the script so some things may seem familiar 

Official Episode Summary: Captured in Italy, Hannibal and Will are brought to Muskrat Farm, where Mason awaits; Alana plots Will's rescue; Margot is reminded that Mason never keeps his promises; Chiyoh learns of Hannibal's location.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

Tag List (is always open!) : @llperfectsymmetryll​ @ericacactus​ @vlightning95​ @sweetgoodangel​

(not my gif) (last to by @/rocktheholygrail

The police filed into Pazzi’s apartment. Commendator Benetti led the pack of people who quickly got Hannibal Lecter on the ground, hands in the air for surrender. Jack eagerly looked to his friend who continued to drip blood from his wounded head. 

“Commendator Benetti. Don’t imagine you’re here to make an arrest,” Jack said.

“You imagine correctly.”

He glanced over to the man behind Hannibal. He knocked Hannibal out swiftly. 

“Take Lecter and this one. He’ll pay us double for both. There’s no price on your head, Signor Crawford,” Benetti said as a man put a black bag over Will’s head. The same thing was done to Hannibal on the side. 

“Hannibal Lecter, il Mostro di Firenze, narrowly escapes the Questura. That's how the story goes?” 

“Missed him by that much. The good Doctor Lecter is once more in the wind. But he left one last victim.” Benetti gestured to some men and pointed at Will who was being carried out. “Open him the way Lecter opened the other one. Open him all the way.” He looked at Jack. “Arrivederci.” 

Benettie walked out of the door.

“Arrivederci.” 

The two remaining cops moved forward to Jack. The lead cop picked up the bone saw that Hannibal had set down. Jack panicked, trying to figure his way out of this one. There had to be a way out of this one. 

In a blink one of the guns was shot through the head from a bullet coming from the window. The other cop looked stunned but from one of the corner rooms came you, slitting his throat with Will’s knife. 

He fell to the ground. 

Your eyes went on Jack and then to the other man you had not killed. 

“Chiyoh,” you muttered. Jack furrowed his eyebrows but your thoughts were already elsewhere. 

“Were you hiding?” Jack questioned. You shook your head.

“You think I would hide as they carted Hannibal and Will away?” You took a deep breath and stepped forward. “Hannibal drugged me. What happened?”

“Hannibal cut open Will’s head. They’re both being carted to the Verger farm as we speak.” You cursed under your breath and ran a hand through your hair. Jack had never seen you so distraught and alone. Usually it was you distraught with Will or with Hannibal. Now you were alone, the two people you were closest with being carted to their tortuous death. “Could I trouble you to take this needle out of my neck?” 

You looked at him like you had just realized he was there.

“Chiyoh will do that.” 

You left the apartment.

-

Mason sat at one end of the table. At the other end, sat Hannibal. Between them was Will, looking out of his depth and tired. He should not have been there, and yet.

“The transplant surgery is extremely skillful, which is why Cordell here will be performing the face-off,” Mason was saying. 

“Hello,” Cordell said, making himself known. Hannibal looked at the cook with interested eyes. 

“You boys remind me of the German cannibal who advertised for a friend, then ate the friend’s penis with him before he died. Tragedy being, the penis was overcooked. Go to all that trouble to eat a friend, and you overcook his penis. They ate it anyway. They had to, they committed. I’m committed to enjoy every bite of you.”

Will, a few seconds behind with the head injury, looked over to Mason.

“You’re going to eat him...with my face?” 

“Yes. I got a taste for it after the two of you had me eat my nose.” 

Will and Hannibal’s minds were both considerably spaced. Will was itching to know where you were. He couldn’t remember what had really happened and his mind now was in no condition to find those memories. He couldn’t ask Hannibal now. Not in case you had managed to get away and Mason would want to look for you. 

“You must be terribly proud that you could bring this off, Mason,” Hannibal said. By his voice Will was willing to bet you were alive. For whatever reason, that was what he felt. 

“An accomplishment comparable to the discovery of radium. I imagine you, they produce all my searching and expenditure, glowing in the dark like the vial in Madame Curie’s laboratory. I imaging after eating you, my belly will glow like a lightbulb.” 

“It’s dangerous to get exactly what you want, Mason. What will you do after you’ve eaten me?” Hannibal asked.

“You could wreck some foster homes and torment some children…” Will suggested.

“Drink martinis made with tears.” 

“But where, Mason, would the hard-core fun come from?” Hannibal questioned.

“Foolish to dilute this ecstatic time with fears about the future. Cordell, Mr. Graham is looking very dry. A little moisturizer, please.” 

Cordell walked over to Will.

“I’m curious, what will be the first cuts of me you’ll serve?” Hannibal asked. Cordell, preparing the moisturizer, approached Will.

“The first course, of course, will be your hands and feet. Sizzling on a Promethean barbecue. The coal is white and very hard, makes a clear ringing sound when struck.” 

“You’ve thought of everything,” Hannibal said pleasantly. 

“After all, we’ll have a pajama party, you and I. You can wear shorties by then. Cordell’s going to keep you alive for a long time.” 

Cordell leaned in to apply Will’s moisturizer. When he got close, Will bit off a chunk of his cheek. He spit it out on the plate in front of him, blood dripping down his cheek. 

Hannibal gave him a fond look.

-

Will sat at the table alone. Hannibal had been carted off to be with the pigs and Mason was off talking to Margot. Will was alone until Alana Bloom stepped into the room, carrying half her weight on the cain. 

Will looked at her and scoffed a bit, surprised at her presence.

“What are you doing here?” he questioned.

“I’m Mason Verger’s psychiatrist,” she explained. Will nodded, breathing out hard. 

“That part of his therapy or yours?” 

“I think we’re all working through some issues. I’m putting an emphasis on self-preservation.” She paused. “Jack’s alive.” He nodded. That meant something bad for you. If Jack was still alive when you were leaving then you would have killed him. 

“Good for Jack,” he spit. He paused and wondered if asking Alana was the right thing to do. 

“They didn’t find a body for Y/N. She’s alive.” Will narrowed his eyes.

“Unless I ate her.” There was a small silence and they understood that was completely within the realm of possibility. Will had no idea how long he had been at Pazzi’s. He could have been there for hours or minutes. “You helped Mason Verger find us.” 

“I helped Mason find Hannibal. We followed Batard-Montrachet when we should have just followed you,” she whispered, sitting down at the table.

“Almost as ugly as what Mason wants to do to us is the fact that he can do it with the tacit agreement of people sworn to uphold the law,” Will admitted. 

“It’s the way of the world.” 

-

Alana stepped into the pig farm. She greeted the guard with a stiff smile and then reached into her handbag, picked up the tranquilizer gun and shot him in the throat. He dropped quickly.

Margot, standing by Hannibal’s cage, stared at her surprised. 

“He had a pocket knife,” Hannibal said. Alana retrieved the pocketknife and crossed to where Hannibal was. 

“Are you out of your mind?” Margot yelled. 

“Yes,” she answered. “I thought I could save Will from you, but right now, you’re the only one I know can save him for sure.” She looked at him. “Unless you didn’t eat Y/N.” Hannibal showed no emotional response. “Promise me you’ll save him. Please.”

“I promise, Alana. And I always keep my promises. Just cut the ropes on one arm, give me the knife and leave. I can do the rest.” 

She nodded.

“Are you going to kill Mason?” 

“Margot is. Snatch some of my hair, back from the hairline, if you don't' mind; get some skin. Put it in Mason’s hand after he’s dead.” They started at each other for a moment.

“Could I have ever understood you?” she questioned. He smiled.

“No.”

As Alana and Margot left silently, Hannibal got himself out of his reigns. 

He smiled at you, who stood at the door.

“I was meant to come save you,” you whispered. He was naked but you didn’t seem phased. “If you’re saved, I suppose I should find Will.” 

“Mason wants his face.” You raised an eyebrow.

“He has good taste in faces.”

-

“Good news and bad news. The good news is, until recently, a full face transplant was almost unthinkable,” Cordell explained. “But medical science is a fast-moving train. First, I’ll lift your pretty much right off, and then I’ll expose the blood vessels and major connections of Mason’s face, then lay yours straight on top. You really are done, you know. That’s the bad news.”

Will realized then, the gravity of this situation. He couldn’t get out of this situation. You were likely dead, Hannibal was chained. Who else had he ever counted on saving him? Will’s eyes moved to the gleaming tray of surgical instruments. Sharp blades and tools. He struggled to move his limbs and as nothing moved, panci reached his eyes. 

“Cordell told me, if I waited long enough, he could grow me a new face from my own cells, but I was adamant it was your face I wanted. I was looking at your face while you were watching me cut mine off. I thought, ‘That’s a nice face.’ And the pleasure of knowing you’ve digested your girlfriend with that face...ah the serendipity,” Mason said as he was placed on the surgical table beside Will. 

“You’re going under now, Mr. Verger and when you awake up, your face will be bound and uncomfortable.” Cordell adjusted Mason’s dosage and Mason’s eyes slowly fell to sleep. Cordell moved to Will. “This will immobilize your body, but you’ll feel everything. I’m going to cut your face without anesthesia, Mr. Graham.”

Will looked up at Cordell and his hands squeezed into a tight fist just as Cordell’s throat was slit. A hand gripped his chest as it reached around him. Slowly, Cordells body fell to the ground beside the surgical table. Will had his blood sprayed all over his face. 

As Cordell fell you were revealed behind him, holding a bloodied knife. You smiled at Will, pleased to see that nothing had happened to him.

“Hey pretty face. Glad to see it’s still intact.” Will let out a breath of relief. 

“I thought I ate you.” You laughed and shook your head. 

“I fed you the soup silly.” You started at the straps to help him out. “Hannibal drugged me.”

“What was that?” Hannibal emerged from the shadows. You turned around quickly, pleased to see him. 

“I was saying you drugged me.”

“Ah yes.” Hannibal moved to Cordell’s body and you handed him the knife you used. Swiftly, Hannibal worked at peeling off Cordell’s face. You helped Will out of the surgical table but he was too exhausted to walk on his own.

“I can’t hold him on my own,” you said. Hannibal nodded. 

“I’ll take him when I’m done with this.”

You cupped Will’s face in your hands as he leaned against the table. Your hand rubbed gently across the bandage on his forehead. 

“It bleeds worse than it is,” he promised. You scoffed and nodded softly. 

“Alana and Margot will kill Mason when he wakes up. We take Will back home.” You nodded, smiling gently. 

“Home.”

-

Your house seemed different. The last time you were in it was just before you went to Europe. What a different world that had been. 

Will was draped over the bed and you sat beside him, hand holding his. He was out cold.  Hannibal stood at the foot of the bed.

“You do know Will’s wishes right?” you asked. Hannibal looked at you for a moment and nodded slowly. 

“I assume he’ll tell us.” 

“He doesn’t want anything to do with you.”

“And you?” You paused, lips pursed as you looked anywhere but Hannibal. You held Will’s hand in yours and you rubbed it, breathing steadily. 

“And I will do whatever Will decides to do.” He was surprised at that. “But I don’t want you to be caught. I won’t put you in jail, I won’t cooperate or participate. I can’t.” Hannibal glanced outside of the window.

“Chiyoh is here.” You nodded.

“Go speak with her, before he wakes up.” 

-

When Hannibal walked back inside, Will woke up. He adjusted himself so that he was sitting up and able to look at Will. 

“Do we talk about teacups and time and rules of disorder?” Hannibal questioned. 

“The teacup is broken. It’ll never gather itself back together again,” Will stated. Hannibal sat at the chair across from the bed. 

“Not even in your mind? Your memory palace is building Will. It’s full of new things. It shared some rooms with my own. I’ve discovered you there. Victorious.” Hannibal glanced at you. “And what was nothing with you Y/N has grown, grown to something so grand.” He sounded proud. You had to look away. You knew how this conversation would go.

“When it comes to you and me and Y/N, there can be no decisive victory,” Will stated.

“We are a zero-sum game?” 

Will took that in for a moment and glanced at you. You didn’t meet his eyes.

“I miss my dogs.” Will started and you closed your eyes tightly, facing the wall. “I’m not going to miss you. I’m not going to find you. I’m not going to look for you. I don’t want to know where you are or what you do. I don’t want to think about you anymore.” 

Will’s voice was cold and flat. It striked Hannibal.

“You delight in wickedness and then berate yourself for the delight,” Hannibal said.

“You delight. I tolerate,” Will quipped. 

“Tolerance is a fig leaf to hide your ravenous self from the world,” Hannibal said.

“I don’t have your appetite.” He paused and took one last long breath in. “Good-bye, Hannibal.” 

Hannibal stared for a moment, rejected, hurt. Will looked at you but you refused to look at him. Hannibal finally stood up and you stood up quickly, rushing over to Hannibal. You threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly.

“It’s for the best that you go. Go and keep going,” you whispered so Will couldn’t hear. He relished in smelling you. He breathed you in and knew that your feelings were different than Will’s but you agreed. You couldn’t do this anymore. “And keep my job open,” you whispered. He couldn’t help but laugh a bit. 

You peeled away from him and stared at him, taking in all his features. He was reminded of the look you had when he left for Florence. 

You let him go. 

He left.

-

That night, the police arrived at Will’s home in droves. Will glanced at you and the grip you had on the mug you were holding tightened. You looked over at him. 

“Why didn’t you kill Jack?” he asked. “I’d been meaning to ask that.” 

“I honestly thought Chiyoh would do it. I was unfortunately wrong.” You walked out of the door and Will followed suit. You had both showered, looked over each other's wounds, cried in each other's arms. 

You faced Jack Crawford with a hard look. 

“He’s gone, Jack,” Will said. You nodded.

“I’m here.” Your head snapped to where Hannibal had emerged. Your heart felt stabbed. You had told him to go. He was supposed to go. 

He kneeled to the ground and you moved forward to grab him, do something to stop this. Will grabbed your arm. You shook your head, protesting against him. 

“You finally caught the Chesapeake Ripper, Jack,” Hannibal said, hands above his head.

“Didn’t catch you, you surrendered.” 

You kept moving forward, pushing against Will’s hold on you. He had to wrap his arms around you now to keep you from walking off of the porch.

“I want you to know exactly where I am. And where you can find me.”

You quit protesting. You turned around and buried your head in Will’s chest. He held you tighter than he ever had as he watched Jack arrest Hannibal Lecter.

3x08

[slocumjoe]

X6 headcanons

- Immune to temperature. He does not get cold. He only gets hot if he's embarrassed. The weather is nothing to him. It's worrying. He'll go outside in sub-zero temps in shorts and a tank top. He'll wear thick wool sweaters when everyone else is red from heat. No one knows why.

- pretty much an 11 year old boy in a male adult body with a kill count. He'll point and laugh at his enemies screwing up. His diet is nothing but junk food to the point he injures himself from poor eating habits. Sometimes he gets into bratty moods. Will sit and pout. It won't be like the usual pouting. His pouting is standing up fiercely straight and stiff with a tight jaw and furrowed eyebrows. Its his least intimidating expression and he hates it because Piper said it made him look cute.

- Cannot sit if he has a task. Dishes in the sink? Has to do them. Garbage full? Has to empty it. If there is something he needs to do, he cannot do anything else until its done. Does not understand how people procrastinate. The task haunts him over his shoulder and disturbs whatever downtime he could have - if you interrupt him and pull him away, is visibly distraught and beelines it back to his chore ASAP.

- Not into music. It just doesn't appeal to him. Living in the Institute means he's had years of nothing but background noise - when unwinding, he finds silence more relaxing and calming.

- He'll make edible food, but its...its fine. He's a mediocre cook at best and painfully unimaginative in the kitchen at worst. Does not understand the need for seasoning - its fuel, it doesn't need to taste good. This is probably because he only really enjoys junk food and candy.

- Doesn't like sugary drinks, strangely. Nuka Cola is repulsive. Doesnt drink coffee either - just tea and water. It's how his skin is spotless.

- people try to touch his cheekbones and he. hates. it.

- Once got pricked by a syringe of some kind of Daytripper. Everyone in the Institute was afraid for their life because, X6, one of the top scariest coursers, was cuddly and clingy and extremely lovey, in the same manner that a cat is when it wants attention. He has no memory of any of this but if he did, would have 80% less ego than he does now.

- Knows every little detail of the personal lives of the scientists. Once he gets more comfortable with the other companions, can go on for hours regaling the stories of nepotism, affairs, family clan wars, teenage love triangles, and general dirty laundry. Its the thing that gives him an 'in'. Its also therapeutic because he's been waiting for the chance to let it all air out for his entire life.

- Love language is...weird. He's never been allowed to speak or hear it, so he kinda just mimics what he sees others do, which means his affection comes off as very artificial. There was a time he heard Hancock compliment someone, and he tried to use it on Curie; he was being genuine but it didn't work, because it was Curie Hancock had complimented and X forgot that she'd already heard it. Word for word. And yes, she did notice the plagiarism.

- His attempts at other love languages also tend to backfire. He'll try to clean for someone, only to make their space totally alien and unnavigatable to them. Tried to give Danse some fusion cores, but he didn't really need them, so they collected dust in his toolboxes. Touching just made him and MacCready both uncomfortable. He doesn't get 'quality time' and ended up basically stalking Preston.

[boarix]

Wraith in the Ruins: A Fallout 4 Story Part XVI

Who We Are

Trigger Warnings: Canon violence/language/drug, alcohol and gun use. Suggestive content.

Bloody Mess Warning!

Game spoilers!

Please enjoy!

 “Attention Tenpines, this is General Wraith. Captain Danse’s patrol is to hold position there. I repeat; the long patrol from Sanctuary is to remain in Tenpines until further notice! Do you read?!”

“Transmission received; however the patrol has left. Do you copy? General?”

Wraith stood frozen as her field of vision narrowed to single point to the east. The radio operator’s urgent questions growing dim then silent as the rushing, roaring reverberations of fear and rage filled her ears.

“General?”

 Infamy was frustrated.

The plan had been to take out the largest of the two adults then set the herd on the other while Atom’s Assassin made short work of the child. A swift and easy kill, it would allow them to move on to MacCready and minimalize the loss of the ferals.

Infamy was misinformed.

Expertly trained, Shaun was far and away from an easy kill. Ignoring the cut on his hand, his priority was helping MacCready. But before he could, Shaun decided that the glowing one, leering and taunting before him, needed to be dealt with first.

Rad-X… need Rad-X…

Normally while facing an opponent, Infamy could tune into visual cues that would allow them to predict when and where the next attack would come. But there was something different about this child; his whole presence suddenly changed to what could only be described as absolute stillness.

Infamy was intrigued.

The ghoul charged him as soon as Shaun reached for the chem pocket on his bandolier. Allowing the glowing one to close the distance he deflected their blade and twisted away trying to trip them as they passed. Just as the weapons came together, his opponent sent a small burst of radiation down their arm, directly into his face.

When the child dropped to the ground, his Pip-boy Geiger counter ticking wildly, Infamy had a passing notion that this might be a short fight after all. Triumph turned to dismay as Shaun slashed their ankle in an attempt to sever their Achilles tendon. Rolling a few feet away then vaulting back to his feet, the youth turned back to Infamy, his face expressionless.  

“Back where we started? Is that what you think? Won round two?! Oh very good, little boy. But, mine will heal in a blink… your irradiated wound will take much, much longer though. Hmm? Yes, that’s right; poison, poison, poison. Hehe.”

A sudden, agonized scream from the cliffside indicated Dogmeat had found Danse’s shooter and the ferals were beginning to dwindling as MacCready overcame them.

Infamy was in trouble.

In the space of a blink Shaun flicked his wrist and a small throwing knife flew toward the ghoul. Using the distraction he dashed to his fallen rifle. Rather than stoop to retrieve it, he hooked the strap with his boot and spun it up his body while simultaneously sheathing his bayonet; turning and firing twice into Infamy’s central mass as soon as the weapon was in his hands.

Answering an unspoken call, the few remaining ferals disengaged from MacCready and sprinted to the assassin.  The glowing one, who had been hunched over the wounds on their torso, suddenly lifted their head and threw back their shoulders, casting out an enormous blast of radiation. Pushed to the ground, Shaun was unable to fire again and the collective escaped into the brush. Staggering to his feet, he prepared to pursue, but MacCready’s call stopped him.

“Shaun! RadAway, NOW!”

His vision blurred, he fumbled with the snaps, “I… don’t… are you…”

MacCready screaming his name was the last thing he heard before the dirt rushed up to meet him and the world turned to black.    

  He couldn’t see.

Pain. So, so much pain. Breathing hurts… where? What happened to me? What was I doing?

He couldn’t feel his leg.

Is it gone?! No… it’s underneath… I can feel blood… Why CAN’T I SEE?!

All he could hear was ringing.

If I call, will anyone hear me? I think… need… a medic. I… I need…

“Elder Maxson… Arthur? Haylen! Rhys! Are you there?!”

Where is my armor?! Am I still on the Prydwen? Did… did she fall?!

“Can anyone hear me?! I… I need help… please…”

  “Open your eyes for me, kiddo.”

MacCready’s voice seemed far away.

“Please, buddy.”

“RJ… you’re squeezing my hand too tight.”

Shaun could feel strong arms gently embrace him and then soft shaking as MacCready’s fear was broadcast through his touch.

“You scared me half to death, kid.”

“Danse!” Lurching to his feet, Shaun lost his balance and had to rest against MacCready, “Ugh, it’s so dark. How long was I out? We have to go look for him!”

“You took a pretty heavy, direct hit. You’ve been out for almost an hour.” Holding him at arm’s length, MacCready’s brow was furrowed; he knew Shaun wouldn’t like what he was about to say, “I’m taking you back to Tenpines…”

“NO!” Wrenching himself free, he pointed accusingly, “I know you don’t like him, but he’s our friend! We can’t just leave him! He needs our help! He may still be alive…”

“Or he’s not.” Shaun’s shocked and angry expression made MacCready hate himself, “I never said I was going to abandon anybody. Dogmeat will stay. You are still sick. You need help. Right now you’re alive and right in front of me. You are the priority.” He lifted his chin, “The faster we get to Tenpines the faster I’m back out here, with a Minutemen medic, looking for our friend.”

Finally noticing the pain and fatigue in MacCready’s voice, Shaun switched on his Pip-boy lamp and took a closer look at him, “OH MY GOD… YOUR EAR!”

“Ow! I can still hear out of it, ya know.”

Wraith had modded a new duster for MacCready and so in spite of being chewed and clawed at by a baker’s dozen of feral ghouls, none of his injuries were life threatening. His face had suffered some minor bruises and scratches but the thing that was really pissing him off was his ear.

“Don’t tell me how much is left… fu… frickin’ monster bit me…” Turning away from the light he set a brisk pace north, “And no, I don’t want a stimpak or gauze or… it’s fine, just let it bleed.”

Wordlessly, Shaun put the rejected aid back in his pockets and followed.

He’s… he’s such a badass!

   Wraith, Hancock and Curie were sprinting to Tenpines. Flanked by the Gáe Bulg Hounds (including Strong), all three were wearing Heavy Dragoon armor, packed to the gorget with as much heavy-duty ordinance and medical equipment as possible. Having little to no information on the size and firepower of Infamy’s force, Wraith was leaving nothing to chance. This wasn’t a time for stealth.

The Calvary was on their way.

  “MacCready, I want to find him as much as you do, but I don’t think climbing down a cliff in the dark is… safe.”

“I didn’t ask for your stupid opinion, Jesse. I told you to come over here and hold a flashlight!”

After leaving Shaun in the care of the Tenpines settlers, MacCready, the settlement’s head medic Varsha and two Minutemen ran back to Dogmeat. They found the canine sitting on the cliff’s edge, whining while looking down to where Danse had fallen.

“It’s fine, Jesse. Just do as he says.” Varsha tied a rope to a nearby tree stump, “Louie, I want the rest of the lines and the block and tackle secured from those trunks over there and we should weight test them before we climb down. Captain Danse is a large man and one way or another he’s coming back up the cliff with us. We’ll use the walkie once he’s secure.”

 MacCready froze when they reached him.

“Oh… I’m very sorry MacCready… I know you were friends.”

It didn’t seem real.

“I’d understand if you don’t want to help me, but if you wouldn’t mind keeping your flashlight on…”

“He’s not dead.”

“MacCready… he… look at him…”

“He. Is. Alive.”

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Danse’s chest rose and fell as he breathed.

“Well, holy shit!”

  Curie practically flew around Tenpines’ small clinic. Setting up for surgery without the benefit of triage was frustrating her. After sanitizing her hands and the various medical equipment, for perhaps the eleventh time, she felt the tears start.

“Sacrebleu, I had best get this out of my system…”

Wraith had gone outside and was stomping around the settlement in her power armor; her laps an attempt to calm the roaring in her ears.

“Wraith… sure as yer goin’ to wear out yer core…”

“I know, Cait. I know, but the sound is very satisfying… Shaun’s lucky I haven’t been carrying him around with me…”

“Ye knowin’ that’d embarrass the shite out of him?”

“GrrrrraARRRRRAH! How could I be so stupid?!” Deciding that it was too late at night and she was being too loud, she exited the armor and waved to Strong, “This isn’t working! Come on Strong; let’s go punch some trees down.”

“ALPHA HAS THE BEST PLAN!”

  “Stop it! You stupid… How are you even awake?! Quit fighting me, man!”

Danse was partially conscious and was hindering all attempts to secure him to the backboard. As severe as his injuries were, he was still strong enough that MacCready and the medic were worried that strong-arming him might cause further damage.

“Who’s there? Where is Scribe Haylen? I have to return… Cutler… I’ll never forgive you!”

“Danse, it’s MacCready!” Wincing sympathetically, he used a boot to hold down an arm so he could secure a strap, “Snap out of it!”

Varsha frowned at his tactics, “Easy! He’s concussed and delirious…”

“I could see his stupid SKULL; I KNOW HE’S…”

“For fuck’s sake, stop yelling! Though I doubt he can hear you… or see you…”

Hardly daring to believe it, MacCready passed his flashlight back and forth in front of Danse’s eyes. There was no discernable reaction. Staring hard at the blood stain, which grew ever larger, on the bandages wrapped around the large man’s head, his voice was a soft whisper, “Is Curie going to be able to patch a hole that big?”

Varsha took it to be a rhetorical question. Stepping back, she shown her light back up the cliff face, “We are going to need to somehow guide him up… he can’t afford any more bruises.”

“Of course I know about Elder Lyons! Get out of my face… I can’t stand the way they look at me! Why do they make me sad?!” Danse’s eyes filled with tears and he gasped as they spilled down his cheeks, “I had to kill you! Don’t you understand?! You were my brother!”

MacCready didn’t know how Danse was suffering, but he could see that it was more than physically. Shocked to feel tears of his own, he cleared his throat, “We… You should ride up with him and I’ll help pull. Keep the walkie on and you can yell at us if we’re too fast.”

Varsha shook her head, “Now that I’m looking… Grinding over the rocks… I don’t know if the ropes will hold.”

“MacCready, you there?”

“That sounded like Hancock…” Simply hearing the ghoul’s voice, crackling through the walkie-talkie, sent a wave of relief through him, “So the Calvary has arrived, huh?”

“That’s no joke! Look, I should be able to hold the pulley out away from the cliff. I’ll be a crane so we can haul up the Cap’n plus one. Case one of ya wants to guide him over bumps.”

“I’m not sure taking that much Buffout is wise, Mr. Mayor.”

“…I’m in power armor, kids. Let’s hurry it up! Chafes somethin’ terrible…”

When MacCready reached the group he couldn’t help the semi-hysterical laugh that tumbled from him, “What are you wearing?!”

Bright Nuka-Cola red with the words “Justice and Liberty for All” emblazed in gold above the Dragoon’s standard, Hancock’s power armor was a sight to behold.

“What, ya don’t like it?” Sweeping his arms out wide, he somehow managed an elegant turn, “Danse modded it just for me. Though, I don’t use it much ‘cause the… cockpit don’t cut it, ya feel me?”

“Yeah, I feel you.”

   The sun had made its way well into the sky before Curie and her medical team emerged from surgery. Weary and bloodstained, the doctor sank into a chair. With the Tenpines clinic being as small as it was Danse’s worried friends were taking turns waiting in the anteroom. Hancock was on duty and he rose from his own chair to offer her a container of water.

“So, how’s our boy doin’?”

“He is still critical. If I could, I would have him in an ICU. He will need additional blood… I was able to save his leg but mon ours will need knee-replacement surgery, much like madame and her shoulder. He has multiple broken ribs and…” Trailing off, she had brought a hand to her forehead but now held it away from her, staring at the bloodstains in horror, “These conditions are unacceptable! I need the equipment in my own surgery and I needed to have had the modified memory lounger online… The pressures on his optic nerves might abate…” Standing now, she stared at her palms while tears streamed down her face, “I cannot save him here! I cannot move him from here! I must save MON AMOUR!”

Hancock embraced her, “Stop, Baby Bird! He’s strong and so are you!” He held her tightly for a moment before easing her back to her seat. When he spoke his tone had dramatically changed from his normal gruff mean-street slang to something closer to a parent, “You are overdone right now and you need to shut your eyes and rest. Varsha has a chart on him, correct? She and I will monitor him. Wraith and Shaun will hold his hands. There are people here who love you both and will be here the whole time to help you.” He waited until she nodded, “Rest now, fight again later.”

  Despite the risks involved it was clear that Danse would have to be moved to Sanctuary. The settlement brahmin were sweet and docile but neither were trained wear a harness, let alone to pull a cart. And while Wraith was certain she was strong enough to carry him, his bulk would be awkward for her to hold over the distance. While Wraith redressed MacCready’s ear wound, Shaun brainstormed with her on something that the more adaptable mutant hounds could pull.

“Their saddles don’t have the right… parts.” Shaun was hung-up on the idea that it had to be a wheeled vehicle, “He needs to ride as level and steady as possible.”

“OW! Wraith, I’m begging you, please stop!”

“Mac, if you’d stop pulling away from me… What about the power armor? Maybe…”

“STRONG WILL CARRY METAL MAN!”

Surprisingly, they hadn’t noticed the super mutants approach and so there was a collective flinch. Struck dumb, the group stared at him wordlessly.

“HUMANS BROKEN?!”

“Sorry Strong, ol’ buddy, just didn’t expect you to volunteer.”

“Don’t like it here. NO FIGHT! STRONG TAKE METAL MAN, THEN STRONG CAN GO BACK TO ROCKET AND WORK WITH BEAR-GHOUL.” He nodded to himself as if it was a unanimous decision.

“It might be too bumpy a ride, Strong.”

“ALPHA TRUST STRONG.” He drew his hand through the air in a steady line, “Strong smooth.”

“I think I might have lived my whole life just to hear that.”

“Mac…”

  Strong indeed had the capacity for smoothness and the journey back to Sanctuary was nerve-wracking but ultimately uneventful. Wraith had sent a plea for assistance to Dr. Amari over Radio Freedom even before the group had left. And after returning, she arranged for the doctor’s escort, set about establishing contact with all emergency Minutemen patrols and went through a settlement radio check-in.  

Islode was sympathetic, but had no more insight that was particularly helpful, “General, I have told you all that I know. Please allow me to return to my people.”

“I can only assume that she or they are watching the roads.” Wraith was grim, “Watching and waiting. You step one foot outside Sanctuary and you’re toast.”

“I have to believe she wouldn’t kill me. My own daughter…”

“So she has been acting in a manner that is completely normal for her then?” Dropping the diplomatic and formal tone, Wraith was sarcastic, “Totally sane and not fanatical or psychotic at all. Right. She’s predictable based off of past behavior.”

“You have every right to your wrath and your mistrust, but what is the point of keeping me here? If she were to kill me, then what would be the determent to you?”

“What… Islode, I know it may be hard for you to believe, but I am not a conqueror!” Rising from her office chair, she swept an arm through the air, “This is not my throne room. This is my office in my home. The Children are my neighbors. I am trying to cultivate a peaceful relationship with them and you are key to that process.”

“Holding me prisoner isn’t very peaceful.”

Arms falling to her side, she lowered herself slowly back to her seat, her green eyes twin lasers aimed directly at Islode’s, “Nor were the attacks on Kingsport Lighthouse.” Leaning back, she allowed her gaze to soften, “I don’t want you to die Mother Islode. I care about you as a person. You may leave any time that you wish, but you will have an armed escort.”

“I fear then that after you, Infamy will be set upon me and all potential for peace will have been shattered regardless.”

“Then I won’t let them get past me.”

  All of her busy work was meant to take Wraith’s mind off the fact that in addition to the constant threat of attack; Danse had not woken up since Curie had administered the pre-op anesthetic.

“With Sturges’s assistance, I should have the lounger modified and we will get some nice images of Captain Danse’s brain soon.” Amari smiled and patted Curie’s shoulder, “His vitals are remarkably good, considering all he’s been through! He is breathing on his own and appears to have maintained limb sensitivity… You and he have both done very well, Dr. Curie.”

“Merci beaucoup, Dr. Amari. I…” Swallowing back tears, she lifted her chin, “We will not give up. We will fight.”

“If there is anything else you need Baby Bird…”

Sagging into her office chair, Curie placed a hand on her forehead and closed her eyes, “I feel that I am tied into knots! There are items that I was going to request of you before… They would have been useful now, but I cannot ask you to…”

“Ask! Please! I can’t help Danse directly like you can and I’m going bonkers; I’ve already re-organized my re-organizing and also double-checked my already-organized task lists and check lists!”

Laughing, Curie shook her head, “There is a difference between task lists and check lists?”

“I have to check-off my tasks, don’t I?”

Rising from her chair, she held her arms out for a hug, “Oh Madame, thank you for that.”

Wraith gently patted her back, “I’m glad I could make you laugh. In all seriousness though, what can I get for you?”    

“I need a GC/MS, LC/MS/MS, HPLC a FID or even a GCD.”

“That’s… a lot of letters…”

“I have Institute technologies and a Biometric scanner that aid me in many, many things but data for therapeutic reference ranges… The research I am doing on new medications would be greatly enhanced by these machines.” She held out her hand, asking for Wraith’s Pip-boy, “I can give you a list and mark possible locations on your map.”

“Couldn’t I just, pick them up from your old lab?”

“Most of the remaining data and equipment in Dr. Collins’s lab has been scrapped by Vault Eighty-one’s residents. I had some of my students look into it a little while ago and I had hoped to have assistance from Dr. Cabot and Doctor… Virgil…”

“I should’ve helped you with that…”

“Madame has not spent all her time and efforts training us, either directly or securing teachers for us, to still do everything for us.” Realizing the irony of her words even as she handed Wraith back the Pip-boy, she frowned and sat motionless for a second, “Oh…”

“No take backs, Curie”

  “I’m so sorry I couldn’t beat them, grandma!”

Wraith was having Shaun help her get gear together to give him another opportunity to vent. She felt bad that she was leaving and wanted to give him as much one-on-one time as possible before she did.

“There is nothing to be sorry about! I know that you’re frustrated but please believe me when I say that you did a… awesome job fighting them off.” She grabbed his arms and gave him a gentle shake, “MacCready says that you were incredible!”

“Yeah, well, not incredible and awesome enough to help Captain Danse… or you.” He stuck his lip out, “I want to contribute! I want… to be a valuable team member.”

“Oh, honey.” She wrapped her arms around him, “Of course you helped us! You were able to fight off a assassin which gave Mac time to get free of the ferals. If… WHEN, we save Danse it’ll be because you fought for us.”

Burying his face into her embrace, his sullen reply was muffled, “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“I’m not. You should be proud at how… multifaceted you are. You are a competent fighter as well as an engineer. You contribute! Just… hold off on being a warrior for a little while yet. At least until you’re taller than me.”

 MacCready elected to stay in Sanctuary, explaining, rather unnecessarily, that he wanted to watch over his son. Although, Wraith had a suspicion that, due to how much time he spent walking past the clinic, he was also harboring feelings of guilt over Danse’s condition.

“Turrets, Minutemen, the Hounds, Dogmeat, Panther and Lloyd are fine and all, but there’s nothin’ quite as good as me.”

“And so modest too…”

“Hey man, I’m just stating the obvious.” A brief flash of doubt crossed his face and he hurried to cover it by turning from Hancock and kissing Wraith goodbye, “Where exactly are you two going anyway?”

The ghoul noticed his consternation, “No worries, MacCready. We are going to pop over to Med-Tek, maybe Medford Memorial and be back before you have to trim yer goatee!”

He favored him with a dramatic eye-roll before giving him a kiss as well, “Who’s worried? It’s not like every time she’s out of my sights, disaster falls.”

“Hey now! I’m not… that’s not… accurate…” Hands on her hips, she stuck her tongue out at him, “I don’t always get hurt!”

“I didn’t say the disasters befall you.”

“’Befall’, huh? Fancy.”

“I thought you’d appreciate.”

She extended her middle finger behind her as she turned away, “Love you.”

   Med-Tek was a surprising bust. Most of the equipment had been smashed either by the ferals or the slowly decomposing building. And although they were able to acquire some hardware components with the idea that Curie may be able to build the devices herself, there were no whole, undamaged machines.

“I really thought that we’d find everything here.” Failing to mask her frustration she kicked at a block of fallen debris, “I was itching to be out doing something, but now I’m anxious being away.”

“I know what you mean… not exactly a fun adventure this time.”

Wraith was elbow deep in the ruins of a machine a few moments later but turned her head to look at Hancock when she heard odd crunching and smacking sounds, “Are you feeding them?!”

“Yeah, they keep looking at me like their beggin’.”

“What are you feeding them?”

“Just some Crisps…”

As they had fought their way through the facility, as would sometimes happen near Wraith, three of the feral ghouls had come to their aid and subsequently followed them through the building to the research lab. Hancock had dubbed the trio Larry, Moe and Curly. Wraith shook her head as he tossed them another handful. He reminded her of an old man, sitting on a park bench feeding pigeons.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” She came to flop into a chair next to him, suddenly sad and tired, “You have to make sure everyone gets fed.”

“I gotta be me… I can’t be right for somebody else, if I’m not right for me, I gotta be free, I’ve gotta be free.”

After turning himself into a ghoul, Hancock’s voice had changed and it troubled him deeply. For a time his singing hobby was shelved and it wasn’t until he began traveling with Wraith that he felt the compulsion again. She admitted that she had no frame of reference but assured him that despite its growling edge, his voice was remarkably compelling. On those rare occasions that he did sing now, his newfound joy was in her enjoyment.

“Heh, look. The Stooges like my howling too.”

All three of the ferals had stopped shoveling Crisps into their faces and were sitting at rapt attention.

“Maybe we’ll start a band…”

Wraith chuckled, kissed his cheek and went back to looking for parts, “Medford has extensive labs that were surprisingly intact the last time I was there but they have something I really don’t want to deal with.”

“Mutants… I thought you cleared ‘em out for Garvey.”

“I have. Twice.” She casually flipped over a filing cabinet, “Last reports have a new batch that have set-up there.” She twirled her wrist, “Just how Mac and I cleared all the ferals here, yet here we are lighter in ammo and heavy in gore.”

“And richer in friends.”

“Oh, noooo. I’m sorry but those three will have to stay here.” She was surprised that Hancock actually looked sad, “It’ll be safer… for them.”

“Have you given any more thought to this Mother’s Favored One bit?”

“Any more thought?” Her tone was harsh, “How about none?”

“None thought, huh?” He gestured to the ferals, “You appear to have more clout with my cousins than most.”

“As you said, I gotta be me. And that ain’t me.”

“How about that… you being… being my wife bit?” His voice was soft and fearful.

Abandoning the rubble, Wraith moved to Hancock and bent at the waist with her hands on her knees so she could look directly into his eyes, “Did you just purpose to me?”

“I… dunno… I’ve… I can’t get free of what mom Atom said.” The normally brash and brazen ghoul was humble, “Would you? I mean, I understand if you don’t wanna put labels on it.” His laugh was forced, “Heh, I know you and MacCready‘ve been married before so…”

“All I know is that I love you both dearly. We should talk to Mac, but I honestly don’t think he’d object. If you want to get married then… let’s do it!”

The joy on Hancock’s face made Wraith’s heart hurt. Both teared up as he stood and swept her into his arms. He twirled her around before the two settled into a deeply passionate kiss. They soon broke it off when they noticed the ghoul trio had shuffled closer. It was almost as if the ferals thought they might have to intervene on Wraith’s behalf.  

“Can we have a big party? Like Nicky?”

“Sure, Hancock. Big party.”

“Invite everybody?”

“Sure; everyone we know.”

“So… the Stooges…”

“No, Hancock.”

   “… send them some aid?”

Deacon wasn’t listening. Recently, a synth had passed through Underworld who looked so much like Wraith that it had twisted his insides and fogged his mind. Even now, during an important meeting, as soon as her name came up, his mind went someplace else. Back to when he first realized he was in trouble. Back when his greatest lie was that he hadn’t fallen in love with her.

They had stopped in an abandoned house between Railroad missions and Wraith was making them dinner. She had her Pip-Boy tuned to Diamond City Radio and was humming along; off-key of course. She had removed her heavy armor pieces and was in long john pants and a t-shirt. He had gently ribbed her on the quality of her performance, but instead of getting mad she had smiled at him and began dancing and singing to the ladle as if it were a microphone.

He was utterly entranced.

I don’t want us to just be… this. I want to dance with her. I want to… I want to make love to her and hold her in my arms after.

“Harley!” Nyx made a grab for his sunglasses, “Are you asleep? Please fucking pay attention!”

“Sorry, Boss.” Evading her swipe, he leaned back in his office chair and brought his arms up behind his head in a big, fake stretch, “I’m really tired. Fawkes and me have been practicing our synchronized swimming routine… huge competition coming up…”

Nyx’s mouth twisted in an attempt to hide a smile triggered by the ridiculous image her brain concocted, “Not funny. What’s the last thing you heard?”

“Uh…”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, “Oh my fucking… To recap; we have reports that Infamy has been hired to attack Minutemen settlements. So far there has been minimal damage, however…”

“The General can take care of it…”

“However…” Nyx’s voice softened, “We have it on good authority, that Danse has been killed.”

Deacon’s insides went cold.

“With Wraith involved, there is a chance that agent Governor and the Commonwealth branch may come under threat as well. So I’ll ask again; should we send our expert on Infamy? Should we send them aid?”

“We have a Infamy expert?”

  The four super mutants milling around in front of Medford Memorial looked particularly nasty.

“I’m less then excited to engage…”

“Your report say anything that might make this easier? I’m all for runnin’ in with guns ablaze, but we don’t know how many more there are and it’s like you said, we are lower on ammo than when we started this hike.”

“Just that their alpha… Hmm…”

“Whatcha got for me?”

Wraith took Hancock by the arms, kissed him fiercely and stared into his eyes, “Do you trust me?”

“Absolutely.”

To the ghoul’s utter shock Wraith popped up out of their hiding spot and marched confidently toward the enemy.

“I CHALLENGE GOREKNUCKLE FOR ALPHA!”

The reaction was shared by the mutants and they stood with mouths agape. Wraith was less than 20 feet from them when one finally managed to corral enough brain cells for a response.

“STUPID HUMAN! GONNA EAT YOU!”

“HA! WEAK MUTANT WORDS FROM… A WEAK… shit…uhhh… BLEEDER!”

To Hancock’s relief, the mutants seemed just as confused as he was and none were even reaching for their weapons. Jogging out after her, he decided he should play herald. “Not just any human; Wraith, General of the Minutemen, Wraith-the-Undying, Death-in-the-Shadow, The Fog Walker, Grinder of the Bucket Heads, Alpha of Strong, Slayer of Fist, Conqueror of Swan and Deathclaw’s Bane!”

Standing as tall as possible she set her hands on her hips and laughed maniacally, “BWAAAHAHAHAHAHA! Bring me to your alpha; if he isn’t too scared…”

Setting their brutish heads together, the group discussed whether or not it might be worth having an ear literally chewed off for granting the crazy human’s request. In the end, the general consensus was that they were bored, and this was… something. Even if they didn’t fully grasp what it was.

“STUPID HUMAN FOLLOW GUT BAG!”

 At first glance, outside of a slight yellow cast to his skin, Goreknuckle seemed much like any other super mutant. But his eyes held intelligence and his voice was relatively soft, “THIS IS STRANGE, HUMAN. IT’S NOT SMART TO COME HERE. BROTHERS SAY YOU CHALLENGE ME FOR ALPHA. THAT’S STUPID.”

“So, you don’t accept? Afraid I’d win?” Wraith folded her arms to hide her shaking hands, “I don’t blame you; I’m really scary.”

The alpha’s sudden, bombastic laughed surprised them all, “HA! YOU’RE FUNNY. OKAY, STUPID HUMAN. I WILL LET YOU CHALLENGE ME.” He gave her a sly smile, “WE ARM WRESTLE!”

“Perfect… except my forearm isn’t long enough. How about a thumb war instead?”

“Uhhh, Alpha Wraith? Quick word?”

Wraith let the ghoul lead her away from the group, “Problem?”

His eyes briefly narrowed as his head twitched sideways, “You seriously gonna wrestle a green skin?”

“Strong has never beaten me.”

Hancock’s dark eyes widened and then he flashed her a sultry smile, “I want you so bad right now.”

“Not in front of the mutants, dear.”

 The battle was to take place in the operating theater so that the entire pack could watch as their mighty alpha crushed a puny, stupid human in an epic… children’s game. Wraith suggested the venue to count the packs numbers. She was happy to see they only had 7 mutants counting Goreknuckle.

She could work with that.

The dramatic contrast of size as the combatants squared up was as comical as the contest itself. Sitting cross-legged on the surgical table, Wraith appeared calm and unconcerned as a seated Goreknuckle loomed over her.

Hancock and Gut Bag stood behind their respective alphas and made threating gestures at each other.

“Do you know the rules?”

“GOREKNUCKLE KNOWS.”

“Winner is alpha.”

“GOREKNUCKLE KNOWS!”

“Say it. Unless you’re too… yellow.”

“GRRRAHHHHHHAAAA! WINNER IS ALPHA OF GOREKNUCKLE PACK!”

“Oh! Hey, can you count? Cause we’re supposed to chant…”

“GOREKNUCKLE KNOWS!”

Wraith pinned him in a half second.

It was so shockingly anticlimactic that the entire room went completely silent.

As intelligent as he was, the alpha quickly degenerated into a wild beast and “broke the rules” by roaring in Wraith’s face and attempting to shake himself free. When he found he couldn’t move his arm he brought his other to bear, swinging it about in a ferocious punch. Jumping slightly, Wraith caught his forearm between her legs and rolled, twisting his limbs together painfully and locking them with her knees. Remembering that he could stand up, the alpha brought his arms and Wraith high into the air before smashing them onto the steel table.

Hancock flinched, “You okay?! That one looked like it stung…”

Wraith snarled in response before twisting herself free, ripping the alpha’s arms clean off as she did.

Goreknuckle was not unlike a lawn sprinkler as he spun away; a great spray of blood coating his fellow pack-mates who had the unfortunate luck of sitting in the splash zone.

Wraith roared at the mutants triumphantly, bringing the disembodied arms above her head and waving them around like pennants at a ball game, “GRRRAAHAAAAA! I am your ALPHA! You are the Pack of the Wraith now!”

It only took a second for the mutants’ eyes to shift from disbelief to murder.

An expert at reading an audience, Hancock tossed a grenade into the seats. After a couple of clean-up shots with his shotgun the room was secure. Wraith was still on the table when he circled back around; staring at Goreknuckle who remained standing even after death.

“He’s like a Venus de Milo…”  

Hancock laughed, “You okay?”

“I hurt my butt.”

“HA! It’s just like MacCready said; disaster! You want some Med-X?”

“Yes please.”

Hancock helped her down and passed her the chem, “What would you have done if they’d gone for it?”

“I’m sure I would have thought of something… they could have helped us today; Curie also needs nitrogen and helium tanks to run her alphabet machines.”

“Oh, I see how it is! It’s perfectly fine for you to bring six super mutants home, but I’m not even allowed three small feral ghouls!”

Wraith giggled, “Can you imagine… us coming back with… No, I knew it wasn’t going to work. I took me a long while to earn Strong’s respect. And he’s more receptive to new ideas than most mutants I’ve met.”

“So you saw seven super mutants and thought ‘I can take ‘em’?” Hancock wrapped his arms around her, gore and all, “And people call me a monster.”

“I gotta be me.”

Thank you so much for reading! Like what you read? Looking for more? Please see my Wraith in the Ruins tag for the story link-tree. If you have any questions/comments/concerns please feel free to send me an ask. Anon too. More to come =^..^=

[thewookieruns]

Battered Heart Part 3 - [Piper x Male Sole Survivor story]

The minutes seemed to crawl like weeks while the small group waited for Paladin Danse to arrive. Codsworth and Curie busied themselves with cleaning and treating what wounds they could. Nate, for the most part, was silent save for the occasional bout of wet, wracking coughs. Soon, with the blood cleared off his face and the various cuts and slashes sutured, Piper had to admit the various wounds would add a certain ruggedness to Nate’s already handsome features. However, as time wore one, she couldn’t also shake the realization that Nate’s breath was getting short and shallow. He was still stuck in the hunched over position, both out of lack of energy to move and under Curie’s direction to not move Nate until they were able to get Danse’s help.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the sound of a vertibird overhead informed the group that the Brotherhood of Steel paladin had arrived. Piper, grateful for the excuse to reason to step away from the carnage, left the carport to greet Danse.

Unfortunately, a vertibird landing in the middle of the street in the middle of the night had alerted the rest of Sanctuary to the situation that had until now had been a private struggle. Curious settlers hesitantly approached the vertibird as Paladin Danse disembarked, flanked by two Brotherhood knights. With a nod, Danse dismissed the knights and removed his helmet as he approached Piper. The knights, much to Piper’s relief, started to form a perimeter to keep the approaching citizens away, their helmet spotlights on. The lights bathed the approaching settler’s faces, highlighting the curiosity of each individual.

“Where is he?” Danse asked, his speech cutting straight to the point. Wordlessly, Piper gestured towards the carport. Danse, equally wordlessly, nodded again and started walking towards the carport, his armored footsteps thumping against the ancient pavement. He paused for a second, then sympathetically placed his armored left hand on Piper’s shoulder.

“He’ll be alright, Piper. I promise.” Danse intoned, his voice soft and warm. And with that, he resumed his march to the carport. Piper followed him, her silhouette looking even smaller than normal to the still gawking settlers against the armored hulk of the Paladin.

But now there was a new problem. The carport, already cramped with one suit of power armor and three companions, was now too small for 2 armored beings and four companions.

“Paladin, thank you for coming.” Preston called out, his voice relieved as he came out from under the carport. He offered his hand, which Danse shook briefly.

“No worries, Garvey.” Danse replied. “I have my men stationed to form a perimeter to keep any would-be eavesdroppers out. “Now, down to business. What’s the current status of the situation?”

Preston quickly informed the Paladin of the situation,  which gave Piper a few moments to compose herself. As the two men wrapped up, she felt the worry and fear of the past few hours lift. She was brought back to reality with the sound of heavy footsteps approaching. Piper looked up in time to see Danse place himself in several feet in front of the carport. He then replaced his helmet, activating the headlamp. Then, strangely, he exited his armor. Piper knew that there was a man inside the armored shell, but it was strange to see him outside of it. It reminded Piper of the Old World hermit crabs she had read about in an old book loving ago. Still curious, she followed Danse inside. Preston hung back, staying by the entrance of the carport as the paladin crouched down to be at eye level with the Sole Survivor.

“I’m going to give you guys some space to work. I’ll inform the other settlements keeping an eye out for Nate that we’ve found him and that were working on him.” Preston informed the reminder of the group. The Minuteman took one long last look before turning and purposefully striding towards the shelter where the settlement beacon and ham radio were located.

Danse took charge after making his own personal assessment of the situation. “Alright. Our first order of business is to remove the fusion core from the armor. That will make sure we don’t unintentionally fry ourselves dealing with the electrical systems. But… this gives us another problem. With the fusion core removed, and with Nathan’s current condition, the armor will be extremely difficult to move. Thankfully, we have Codsworth to help us lift and maneuver Nathan around.” He looked up, making eye contact with each of the remaining companions as he continued. “Codsworth. You will be helping with moving Nathan around, as well as using your saw to help cut the armor apart.” Codsworth’s optic sensors bobbed quickly up and down once in a quick facsimile of a nod. “Curie,” Danse continued. “You are primarily tasked with attending to any of Nathan’s injuries as we uncover them. I want you to personally help me to remove the armor so you can take care of them quickly.”

“But of course.” Curie acknowledged. Danse then turned to Piper.

“Piper, I want you to simply comfort Nate. This probably won’t be very comfortable for him. We’ll need him to remain conscious so he can help alert us to when there are problems.” the paladin concluded. Slowly, Piper nodded.

With every companion knowing their job, Danse reached his hands up to remove the fusion core from its mount. It was at this point that Piper realized that most of the bracket for the fusion core had been shorn away, leaving the power source fairly exposed. With a forceful tug, Danse pulled the fusion core from the suit. With the fusion core removed, the armor seemed to stiffen, with no more power flowing through it’s electrical veins to move it’s remaining joints.

“Alright, Codsworth: grab him by the collar of the armor. We need to hoist him and get him on his back; that way we can more easily cut him out and treat him.” Danse barked. The Mr. Handy robot quickly followed the given order, remaining uncharacteristically silent. He quickly clamped on to what was left of the neck guard and began to lift, arm servos whirring and straining with the effort. After several seconds, Nate’s torso had only risen a small distance from its original position.

“Come on, Codsworth! Give it a little more muscle!” Danse yelled, trying to get the robot to lift more.

“Paladin Danse, sir, I am trying to do my best to not hurt my master more than he already is.” Codsworth replied, his voice smarmy and sarcastic as his exterior eyes swiveled to bore into the paladin’s. “Unless you want me to pour more into my thruster and add third-degree burns to the master’s neck and back, I will do no such thing!” The paladin backed down, knowing that the 200-plus year-old robot had only the best intentions for his friend.

Piper was unable to take the pressure of the situation, dropped to her knees, her eyes inches from the Sole Survivor’s. “Come on, Blue,” she said, her voice soft as she ran her fingers across the bruises and stitches on his face. “You’ve gotta get up. You’ve just gotta.”

Nate’s good eye opened, his gaze latching onto Piper’s. Time seemed to freeze for Piper in that moment as the two held each other’s gaze. Here was the man she cared for so much, battered and bruised. Yet, Piper knew in that moment that everything was going to be with alright.

With a growl that crescendoed into a roar, Nate pushed, his torso lifting from his bent knee. Codsworth, finding himself higher than what he was expecting, continued to pull on the armor collar, lifting Nate off of his feet ever so slightly. Grunting, and with some difficulty, Nate rotated his body enough to drop onto his rear., propping himself up his right elbow. Gasping, he then leaned back, lying down completely.

“Excellent work, soldier,” Danse praised as Codsworth relinquished his grip. “Now that you’re in this position, we can get to work.” Nate only nodded, his breath ragged. He raised his left hand weakly. Piper instinctively took it in both of her hands, surprised by how firm Nate’s grip was.

“Don’t… go. Stay… here.” came the whisper from his lips, his head tilted towards her. His good eye met piper’s gaze through a half-closed lid. Even through that, Piper could feel the intensity of his gaze.

“I won’t.”

[anthonykrierion]

Creative Inspiration: Content We Enjoyed this Winter

Long format we love you!

In the age of everyone having a blog, highly stylised long format can be what it takes to make your written content stand out. At Distilled we often ask ourselves does something being a blog post make it immediately feel less valuable than say, a white paper or a comprehensive guide? Is turning something into a simple blog post selling yourself short, is that format right for your content? With written content coming in so many forms from microblogging in tweets, to company e-newsletters, it’s important to find the right format for what you want to say, of course, sometimes that is with a simple blog post.

Each quarter at Distilled we look back over the content that has made us tick. Content that made us laugh, start heated debates, WOW at how pretty it is, or feel flabbergasted by the conclusions. Building on the 2017 summer and autumn roundup we launched last year, here’s what we loved (or loathed) with equal passion this winter. Starting with some beautiful long format journalism.

Poor Millennials - Highline Huffington Post

With so much content being churned out these days, one might argue that journalistic standards are slipping. Perhaps to fly the flag of quality, well-researched journalism once more, a select team at The Huffington Post has created a new arm called ‘Highline’. Each article features captivating movement as you scroll. Poor Millennials, which was 8 months in the making, discusses ‘Why millennials are facing the scariest financial future of any generation since the Great Depression’. I found it relatable, even though I’m at the older end of the millennial spectrum.

The frank writing style and 8-bit illustrations pull you in. Pull quotes, stats and bold use of typography make this monster of a post easily digestible at a surface level if you don’t have half a half day to read the whole thing. The tone of voice is brash and allows you to feel justified in your bitterness towards the economy. The animations aptly depict millennials emotions in a very literal way, e.g. falling through space with no one to cushion your fall. There are graphs - in psychedelic pinks, and what feels like levels and character controllability, all harping back to the 90’s rave culture and gaming that millennials hold so dear.

Ungifted - Do The Green Thing

On the lead up to Christmas, we often run about like headless chickens buying up unnecessary bits and bobs for our loved ones, just because we need to get them something. ‘Do The Green Thing’ is a public service that uses creativity to tackle climate change. Needless to say, they would like to minimise the plastic tat lying in our landfills after the festive period. How? By inspiring us to give time not objects. And so ‘Do The Green Thing’ created ‘Ungifted’. It’s essentially a list of ways you can spend time with your friends/family, whether it be a winter bike ride, a night on the tiles, or a home-cooked meal. The long format page has little gifs depicting characters joyously appreciating these activities, and a long list of numerous ideas to incentivise our consumer society to change their habits. ‘Do The Green Thing’ could have easily added in stats about unwanted material gifts, or rubbish accumulated over Christmas to further bolster the message. The page presentation is fun, lighthearted, non-preachy, and not too content heavy. This makes content consumption, and subsequent change, more likely.

Find Your Happy Place - Budget Direct

Budget Direct - a car/travel/house insurance company - has collated data on the factors that affect living standards. The tool enables you to drag and drop a modular ordered list to define your own hierarchy for these standards. Is it house affordability or pollution which are most important to you? Once ordered the tool suggests in which city you might find your happy place. A more simplistic version of OECD’s Better Life Index. Suggesting a life in a far-off city, tells us something about ourselves and allows us to daydream about where we might be most happy. Perhaps we will even use Budget Direct to book our travel insurance when we visit there!

The Gourmand’s 10th issue - The Gourmand - Matthieu Lavanchy

The food and culture journal made waves with its 10th front cover. Working with photographer Matthieu Lavanchy they took food that had already been turned into an emoji, and turned it back into food… meta. The accuracy of the photography vs the emojis is uncanny. Taking icons we see regularly, and reimagining them makes you want to compare the photos to the icons on your phone, it gets you involved.

Thank you, Lamont - Lyft

Lyft is like Uber, a cab app. Lyft has created a series of videos where the premise is giving back to their drivers. They share individual, inspirational and memorable driver stories. With big faceless organisations, and especially those in low paid service industries, stories that show a human element - and even what a positive change working for this company has had on someone's life - stick in your mind. Lamont, the driver featured here, talks about the world being his home as opposed to favouring one place (a great all-inclusive brand message). Lyft surprise him by encouraging his exploration of the world with an all-inclusive around the world trip.

Bullying Jr - Burger King in association with No Bully

Partnering with a charity can really help a brand if there’s synergy with their core messages. It shows the brand cares and is willing to use their clout to speak out to help raise awareness (or money) for those less fortunate. Burger King ‘bullied’ one of their own burgers, to help raise awareness of the impact of bullying. The narrative starts with a fact; ‘30% of students are bullied’. It then shows a bunch of school kids bullying another child. Customers in the Burger King restaurant look on, clearly moved by the scene that is unfolding before them. Yet the majority of spectators do nothing.

Then it’s the burger’s turn. Before it is wrapped up it receives a few sharp punches, flattening and breaking apart the bun whilst the filling spills out. 95% of customers complained about their burger having been bullied, yet only 12% stood up for the bullied child. This campaign isn’t aimed at the bullies themselves. Rather it exposes the impact of the uninvolved bystander, the witness. It asks them to stand up. To say something. This works for a fast food restaurant whose customers are a real mix of ages, including kids getting a quick bite to eat after school. It is the sort of place in towns where children congregate, everyone needs to eat and everyone has the potential to be bullied/see bullying. An eating place should be safe space, where communities can come together to rest and recoup.

Taste Face - Marmite

Marmite has released a face recognition tool and a gene test where the brand states that it knows if you are a lover or hater of Marmite. Marmite has always been brasher than any other brand in actively saying that its customers HATE its product, but now it reveals that science can work out your taste preferences. I actually quite like Marmite but I tried to trick the face recognition tool into believing I am a hater, by pulling my most disgusted face… and it worked, branding me ‘73% a born hater’. For me, the fascination here is more how the face recognition tool works out how much you love or hate something as opposed to it being an accurate test. Is it shareable? Yes! It’s a smart way of having a bit of fun and, of course, people like to share pictures of their own face!

X-Rated Elf - Poundland

Every now and again a brand does something controversial that gets everyone talking. Remember the recent outcry when Dove showed a black person turning into a white person? Personally, I don’t think this marketing effort aimed to be controversial, but conversation was drummed up nonetheless.

Well, some brands create controversy purposefully, shamelessly. How? By talking about teabagging… Ummmm. Yup, that's right. That’s what Poundland made a figurine elf do for it’s Christmas campaign, which was released through a series of images on social. Other scenes showed a naked poker match (Joker Joker, I really want to poke her) and a penis shaped cactus drawn on an etch a sketch (That's one prickly Christmas tree).

While some people found this hilarious, it had many others up in arms, calling it rude, offensive and misogynistic.  Poundland showed no remorse and was quoted saying ‘We're proud of a campaign that's only cost £25.53 and is being touted as the winning marketing campaign this Christmas!’ Poundland also threw caution to the wind by creating some unofficial brand partnerships with Barbie and Ken, and Twinings (who I believe asked them to remove their packaging from one of the scenes).

Holiday Video E-Card -  R&O Construction - Becca Clason

Sometimes a client’s service or product can seem so boring it’s hard to imagine how you can let your creativity run wild. Introducing Construction company R&O and its holiday E-Card by typographic genius Becca Clason. Complete with construction sound effects and Christmas music - the asphalt, sawdust and cement greeting card video really gives you that Christmassy feeling while keeping R&O and the creativity they are showing in mind. The sawdust makes up the words ‘Wishing You’ while the word ‘JOY’ is lowered into place with what seems like a crane. Christmas is a great time and excuse to send out little reminders of your company.

Memory Powered Tree - Marie Curie

This Christmas, Marie Curie created a memory-powered Christmas tree next to the London Eye in Waterloo. Each time a memory was shared on social using the hashtag #LightUpChristmas, lights on the tree would shine a little brighter. This gave people a place to congregate to share memories of lost loved ones, and to celebrate the memories of those still with us too. Having a stunt in such a public space with a high footfall makes it a real talking point, and the activity makes you feel you’re part of a community - coming together to make a little magic happen.

Memories or money - lastminute.com

It’s important to drill down to the specifics of what you are selling with your product or service. Are you selling insurance, or peace of mind? Are you selling games or laughter? What lastminute.com sells is not holidays, it’s memories. It’s the romantic time you had in Venice, or how you were flabbergasted by the scenery in Alberta. It’s that wonderful memory that you will always have with you that matters. That is what you’re spending your money on.

In the video, a handful of people discuss their most poignant or exciting memories. A woman in a lab coat then asks if it’s ok to delete those memories for a fee. The participants (quite rightly) are horrified by the notion and say ‘no’, showing that the memories made are priceless. The video acts as an incentive to book a holiday and make more of those priceless memories.

What content have you enjoyed lately? Let us know in the comments.

Creative Inspiration: Content We Enjoyed this Winter was originally posted by Video And Blog Marketing

[davidrsmithlove]

Creative Inspiration: Content We Enjoyed this Winter

Long format we love you!

In the age of everyone having a blog, highly stylised long format can be what it takes to make your written content stand out. At Distilled we often ask ourselves does something being a blog post make it immediately feel less valuable than say, a white paper or a comprehensive guide? Is turning something into a simple blog post selling yourself short, is that format right for your content? With written content coming in so many forms from microblogging in tweets, to company e-newsletters, it’s important to find the right format for what you want to say, of course, sometimes that is with a simple blog post.

Each quarter at Distilled we look back over the content that has made us tick. Content that made us laugh, start heated debates, WOW at how pretty it is, or feel flabbergasted by the conclusions. Building on the 2017 summer and autumn roundup we launched last year, here’s what we loved (or loathed) with equal passion this winter. Starting with some beautiful long format journalism.

Poor Millennials - Highline Huffington Post

With so much content being churned out these days, one might argue that journalistic standards are slipping. Perhaps to fly the flag of quality, well-researched journalism once more, a select team at The Huffington Post has created a new arm called ‘Highline’. Each article features captivating movement as you scroll. Poor Millennials, which was 8 months in the making, discusses ‘Why millennials are facing the scariest financial future of any generation since the Great Depression’. I found it relatable, even though I’m at the older end of the millennial spectrum.

The frank writing style and 8-bit illustrations pull you in. Pull quotes, stats and bold use of typography make this monster of a post easily digestible at a surface level if you don’t have half a half day to read the whole thing. The tone of voice is brash and allows you to feel justified in your bitterness towards the economy. The animations aptly depict millennials emotions in a very literal way, e.g. falling through space with no one to cushion your fall. There are graphs - in psychedelic pinks, and what feels like levels and character controllability, all harping back to the 90’s rave culture and gaming that millennials hold so dear.

Ungifted - Do The Green Thing

On the lead up to Christmas, we often run about like headless chickens buying up unnecessary bits and bobs for our loved ones, just because we need to get them something. ‘Do The Green Thing’ is a public service that uses creativity to tackle climate change. Needless to say, they would like to minimise the plastic tat lying in our landfills after the festive period. How? By inspiring us to give time not objects. And so ‘Do The Green Thing’ created ‘Ungifted’. It’s essentially a list of ways you can spend time with your friends/family, whether it be a winter bike ride, a night on the tiles, or a home-cooked meal. The long format page has little gifs depicting characters joyously appreciating these activities, and a long list of numerous ideas to incentivise our consumer society to change their habits. ‘Do The Green Thing’ could have easily added in stats about unwanted material gifts, or rubbish accumulated over Christmas to further bolster the message. The page presentation is fun, lighthearted, non-preachy, and not too content heavy. This makes content consumption, and subsequent change, more likely.

Find Your Happy Place - Budget Direct

Budget Direct - a car/travel/house insurance company - has collated data on the factors that affect living standards. The tool enables you to drag and drop a modular ordered list to define your own hierarchy for these standards. Is it house affordability or pollution which are most important to you? Once ordered the tool suggests in which city you might find your happy place. A more simplistic version of OECD’s Better Life Index. Suggesting a life in a far-off city, tells us something about ourselves and allows us to daydream about where we might be most happy. Perhaps we will even use Budget Direct to book our travel insurance when we visit there!

The Gourmand’s 10th issue - The Gourmand - Matthieu Lavanchy

The food and culture journal made waves with its 10th front cover. Working with photographer Matthieu Lavanchy they took food that had already been turned into an emoji, and turned it back into food… meta. The accuracy of the photography vs the emojis is uncanny. Taking icons we see regularly, and reimagining them makes you want to compare the photos to the icons on your phone, it gets you involved.

Thank you, Lamont - Lyft

Lyft is like Uber, a cab app. Lyft has created a series of videos where the premise is giving back to their drivers. They share individual, inspirational and memorable driver stories. With big faceless organisations, and especially those in low paid service industries, stories that show a human element - and even what a positive change working for this company has had on someone's life - stick in your mind. Lamont, the driver featured here, talks about the world being his home as opposed to favouring one place (a great all-inclusive brand message). Lyft surprise him by encouraging his exploration of the world with an all-inclusive around the world trip.

Bullying Jr - Burger King in association with No Bully

Partnering with a charity can really help a brand if there’s synergy with their core messages. It shows the brand cares and is willing to use their clout to speak out to help raise awareness (or money) for those less fortunate. Burger King ‘bullied’ one of their own burgers, to help raise awareness of the impact of bullying. The narrative starts with a fact; ‘30% of students are bullied’. It then shows a bunch of school kids bullying another child. Customers in the Burger King restaurant look on, clearly moved by the scene that is unfolding before them. Yet the majority of spectators do nothing.

Then it’s the burger’s turn. Before it is wrapped up it receives a few sharp punches, flattening and breaking apart the bun whilst the filling spills out. 95% of customers complained about their burger having been bullied, yet only 12% stood up for the bullied child. This campaign isn’t aimed at the bullies themselves. Rather it exposes the impact of the uninvolved bystander, the witness. It asks them to stand up. To say something. This works for a fast food restaurant whose customers are a real mix of ages, including kids getting a quick bite to eat after school. It is the sort of place in towns where children congregate, everyone needs to eat and everyone has the potential to be bullied/see bullying. An eating place should be safe space, where communities can come together to rest and recoup.

Taste Face - Marmite

Marmite has released a face recognition tool and a gene test where the brand states that it knows if you are a lover or hater of Marmite. Marmite has always been brasher than any other brand in actively saying that its customers HATE its product, but now it reveals that science can work out your taste preferences. I actually quite like Marmite but I tried to trick the face recognition tool into believing I am a hater, by pulling my most disgusted face… and it worked, branding me ‘73% a born hater’. For me, the fascination here is more how the face recognition tool works out how much you love or hate something as opposed to it being an accurate test. Is it shareable? Yes! It’s a smart way of having a bit of fun and, of course, people like to share pictures of their own face!

X-Rated Elf - Poundland

Every now and again a brand does something controversial that gets everyone talking. Remember the recent outcry when Dove showed a black person turning into a white person? Personally, I don’t think this marketing effort aimed to be controversial, but conversation was drummed up nonetheless.

Well, some brands create controversy purposefully, shamelessly. How? By talking about teabagging… Ummmm. Yup, that's right. That’s what Poundland made a figurine elf do for it’s Christmas campaign, which was released through a series of images on social. Other scenes showed a naked poker match (Joker Joker, I really want to poke her) and a penis shaped cactus drawn on an etch a sketch (That's one prickly Christmas tree).

While some people found this hilarious, it had many others up in arms, calling it rude, offensive and misogynistic.  Poundland showed no remorse and was quoted saying ‘We're proud of a campaign that's only cost £25.53 and is being touted as the winning marketing campaign this Christmas!’ Poundland also threw caution to the wind by creating some unofficial brand partnerships with Barbie and Ken, and Twinings (who I believe asked them to remove their packaging from one of the scenes).

Holiday Video E-Card -  R&O Construction - Becca Clason

Sometimes a client’s service or product can seem so boring it’s hard to imagine how you can let your creativity run wild. Introducing Construction company R&O and its holiday E-Card by typographic genius Becca Clason. Complete with construction sound effects and Christmas music - the asphalt, sawdust and cement greeting card video really gives you that Christmassy feeling while keeping R&O and the creativity they are showing in mind. The sawdust makes up the words ‘Wishing You’ while the word ‘JOY’ is lowered into place with what seems like a crane. Christmas is a great time and excuse to send out little reminders of your company.

Memory Powered Tree - Marie Curie

This Christmas, Marie Curie created a memory-powered Christmas tree next to the London Eye in Waterloo. Each time a memory was shared on social using the hashtag #LightUpChristmas, lights on the tree would shine a little brighter. This gave people a place to congregate to share memories of lost loved ones, and to celebrate the memories of those still with us too. Having a stunt in such a public space with a high footfall makes it a real talking point, and the activity makes you feel you’re part of a community - coming together to make a little magic happen.

Memories or money - lastminute.com

It’s important to drill down to the specifics of what you are selling with your product or service. Are you selling insurance, or peace of mind? Are you selling games or laughter? What lastminute.com sells is not holidays, it’s memories. It’s the romantic time you had in Venice, or how you were flabbergasted by the scenery in Alberta. It’s that wonderful memory that you will always have with you that matters. That is what you’re spending your money on.

In the video, a handful of people discuss their most poignant or exciting memories. A woman in a lab coat then asks if it’s ok to delete those memories for a fee. The participants (quite rightly) are horrified by the notion and say ‘no’, showing that the memories made are priceless. The video acts as an incentive to book a holiday and make more of those priceless memories.

What content have you enjoyed lately? Let us know in the comments.

[ronijashworth]

Creative Inspiration: Content We Enjoyed this Winter

Long format we love you!

In the age of everyone having a blog, highly stylised long format can be what it takes to make your written content stand out. At Distilled we often ask ourselves does something being a blog post make it immediately feel less valuable than say, a white paper or a comprehensive guide? Is turning something into a simple blog post selling yourself short, is that format right for your content? With written content coming in so many forms from microblogging in tweets, to company e-newsletters, it’s important to find the right format for what you want to say, of course, sometimes that is with a simple blog post.

Each quarter at Distilled we look back over the content that has made us tick. Content that made us laugh, start heated debates, WOW at how pretty it is, or feel flabbergasted by the conclusions. Building on the 2017 summer and autumn roundup we launched last year, here’s what we loved (or loathed) with equal passion this winter. Starting with some beautiful long format journalism.

Poor Millennials - Highline Huffington Post

With so much content being churned out these days, one might argue that journalistic standards are slipping. Perhaps to fly the flag of quality, well-researched journalism once more, a select team at The Huffington Post has created a new arm called ‘Highline’. Each article features captivating movement as you scroll. Poor Millennials, which was 8 months in the making, discusses ‘Why millennials are facing the scariest financial future of any generation since the Great Depression’. I found it relatable, even though I’m at the older end of the millennial spectrum.

The frank writing style and 8-bit illustrations pull you in. Pull quotes, stats and bold use of typography make this monster of a post easily digestible at a surface level if you don’t have half a half day to read the whole thing. The tone of voice is brash and allows you to feel justified in your bitterness towards the economy. The animations aptly depict millennials emotions in a very literal way, e.g. falling through space with no one to cushion your fall. There are graphs - in psychedelic pinks, and what feels like levels and character controllability, all harping back to the 90’s rave culture and gaming that millennials hold so dear.

Ungifted - Do The Green Thing

On the lead up to Christmas, we often run about like headless chickens buying up unnecessary bits and bobs for our loved ones, just because we need to get them something. ‘Do The Green Thing’ is a public service that uses creativity to tackle climate change. Needless to say, they would like to minimise the plastic tat lying in our landfills after the festive period. How? By inspiring us to give time not objects. And so ‘Do The Green Thing’ created ‘Ungifted’. It’s essentially a list of ways you can spend time with your friends/family, whether it be a winter bike ride, a night on the tiles, or a home-cooked meal. The long format page has little gifs depicting characters joyously appreciating these activities, and a long list of numerous ideas to incentivise our consumer society to change their habits. ‘Do The Green Thing’ could have easily added in stats about unwanted material gifts, or rubbish accumulated over Christmas to further bolster the message. The page presentation is fun, lighthearted, non-preachy, and not too content heavy. This makes content consumption, and subsequent change, more likely.

Find Your Happy Place - Budget Direct

Budget Direct - a car/travel/house insurance company - has collated data on the factors that affect living standards. The tool enables you to drag and drop a modular ordered list to define your own hierarchy for these standards. Is it house affordability or pollution which are most important to you? Once ordered the tool suggests in which city you might find your happy place. A more simplistic version of OECD’s Better Life Index. Suggesting a life in a far-off city, tells us something about ourselves and allows us to daydream about where we might be most happy. Perhaps we will even use Budget Direct to book our travel insurance when we visit there!

The Gourmand’s 10th issue - The Gourmand - Matthieu Lavanchy

The food and culture journal made waves with its 10th front cover. Working with photographer Matthieu Lavanchy they took food that had already been turned into an emoji, and turned it back into food… meta. The accuracy of the photography vs the emojis is uncanny. Taking icons we see regularly, and reimagining them makes you want to compare the photos to the icons on your phone, it gets you involved.

Thank you, Lamont - Lyft

Lyft is like Uber, a cab app. Lyft has created a series of videos where the premise is giving back to their drivers. They share individual, inspirational and memorable driver stories. With big faceless organisations, and especially those in low paid service industries, stories that show a human element - and even what a positive change working for this company has had on someone's life - stick in your mind. Lamont, the driver featured here, talks about the world being his home as opposed to favouring one place (a great all-inclusive brand message). Lyft surprise him by encouraging his exploration of the world with an all-inclusive around the world trip.

Bullying Jr - Burger King in association with No Bully

Partnering with a charity can really help a brand if there’s synergy with their core messages. It shows the brand cares and is willing to use their clout to speak out to help raise awareness (or money) for those less fortunate. Burger King ‘bullied’ one of their own burgers, to help raise awareness of the impact of bullying. The narrative starts with a fact; ‘30% of students are bullied’. It then shows a bunch of school kids bullying another child. Customers in the Burger King restaurant look on, clearly moved by the scene that is unfolding before them. Yet the majority of spectators do nothing.

Then it’s the burger’s turn. Before it is wrapped up it receives a few sharp punches, flattening and breaking apart the bun whilst the filling spills out. 95% of customers complained about their burger having been bullied, yet only 12% stood up for the bullied child. This campaign isn’t aimed at the bullies themselves. Rather it exposes the impact of the uninvolved bystander, the witness. It asks them to stand up. To say something. This works for a fast food restaurant whose customers are a real mix of ages, including kids getting a quick bite to eat after school. It is the sort of place in towns where children congregate, everyone needs to eat and everyone has the potential to be bullied/see bullying. An eating place should be safe space, where communities can come together to rest and recoup.

Taste Face - Marmite

Marmite has released a face recognition tool and a gene test where the brand states that it knows if you are a lover or hater of Marmite. Marmite has always been brasher than any other brand in actively saying that its customers HATE its product, but now it reveals that science can work out your taste preferences. I actually quite like Marmite but I tried to trick the face recognition tool into believing I am a hater, by pulling my most disgusted face… and it worked, branding me ‘73% a born hater’. For me, the fascination here is more how the face recognition tool works out how much you love or hate something as opposed to it being an accurate test. Is it shareable? Yes! It’s a smart way of having a bit of fun and, of course, people like to share pictures of their own face!

X-Rated Elf - Poundland

Every now and again a brand does something controversial that gets everyone talking. Remember the recent outcry when Dove showed a black person turning into a white person? Personally, I don’t think this marketing effort aimed to be controversial, but conversation was drummed up nonetheless.

Well, some brands create controversy purposefully, shamelessly. How? By talking about teabagging… Ummmm. Yup, that's right. That’s what Poundland made a figurine elf do for it’s Christmas campaign, which was released through a series of images on social. Other scenes showed a naked poker match (Joker Joker, I really want to poke her) and a penis shaped cactus drawn on an etch a sketch (That's one prickly Christmas tree).

While some people found this hilarious, it had many others up in arms, calling it rude, offensive and misogynistic.  Poundland showed no remorse and was quoted saying ‘We're proud of a campaign that's only cost £25.53 and is being touted as the winning marketing campaign this Christmas!’ Poundland also threw caution to the wind by creating some unofficial brand partnerships with Barbie and Ken, and Twinings (who I believe asked them to remove their packaging from one of the scenes).

Holiday Video E-Card -  R&O Construction - Becca Clason

Sometimes a client’s service or product can seem so boring it’s hard to imagine how you can let your creativity run wild. Introducing Construction company R&O and its holiday E-Card by typographic genius Becca Clason. Complete with construction sound effects and Christmas music - the asphalt, sawdust and cement greeting card video really gives you that Christmassy feeling while keeping R&O and the creativity they are showing in mind. The sawdust makes up the words ‘Wishing You’ while the word ‘JOY’ is lowered into place with what seems like a crane. Christmas is a great time and excuse to send out little reminders of your company.

Memory Powered Tree - Marie Curie

This Christmas, Marie Curie created a memory-powered Christmas tree next to the London Eye in Waterloo. Each time a memory was shared on social using the hashtag #LightUpChristmas, lights on the tree would shine a little brighter. This gave people a place to congregate to share memories of lost loved ones, and to celebrate the memories of those still with us too. Having a stunt in such a public space with a high footfall makes it a real talking point, and the activity makes you feel you’re part of a community - coming together to make a little magic happen.

Memories or money - lastminute.com

It’s important to drill down to the specifics of what you are selling with your product or service. Are you selling insurance, or peace of mind? Are you selling games or laughter? What lastminute.com sells is not holidays, it’s memories. It’s the romantic time you had in Venice, or how you were flabbergasted by the scenery in Alberta. It’s that wonderful memory that you will always have with you that matters. That is what you’re spending your money on.

In the video, a handful of people discuss their most poignant or exciting memories. A woman in a lab coat then asks if it’s ok to delete those memories for a fee. The participants (quite rightly) are horrified by the notion and say ‘no’, showing that the memories made are priceless. The video acts as an incentive to book a holiday and make more of those priceless memories.

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from Digital Marketing https://www.distilled.net/resources/creative-inspiration-content-we-enjoyed-this-winter/ via http://www.rssmix.com/