#whatevs here is veronica santangelo | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nuclearspring · 7 months ago

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𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐕𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐒 ( 𝐎𝐑 ) 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐈 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐌𝐁. INDEPENDENT FALLOUT BASED MULTI FEATURING CANONS AND OCS FROM NEW VEGAS, FALLOUT TV, AND FALLOUT 1. 21+ & MUTUALS ONLY. PLEASE READ RULES BEFORE INTERACTING.

by scout (27, any pronouns).

note: my fallout tv verse is adjusted to mesh better with new vegas canon. more information on that here. (link leads to fallout tv spoilers; proceed with caution).

roster includes (primaries bolded; the rest are secondary): albert cole, alejandro "cash" castillo (vegas & ncr based oc), arcade gannon, benny, betty zhao (vegas based oc), boone, cooper howard, courier six (sasha dubrovhsky, alias boris medvedev), lucy maclean, maximus, ulysses, & veronica santangelo.

you can find more thorough descriptions of characters here, including links to bios.

to interact: if we're mutuals, shoot me a meme, send me an ask, or dm me! provided i'm following you, i am open to interaction or plotting whenever, and will respond when i can.

rules:

001. i'm generally comfortable with most subject matter covered in fallout canon (within reason - there are some things handled by fallout that i personally think were handled very poorly, and i am certainly highly critical of the media, which does include grievances with new vegas, and there will sometimes be criticism of it on this blog), but i won't write incest, rape / csa, etc, and will block those who do / who fetishize anything of the sort.

no racism, antisemitism, zionism, (and if you think those latter two are the same thing, dni) etc will be tolerated. terfs dni. the usual. i won't interact with muses from harry potter, peaky blinders, attack on titan, or detroit: become human / other david cage games. i may not follow multis back if they have content on them that i worry my mutuals might not be comfortable with as well, and tend to be quite wary given past experiences. i will also sometimes block or softblock if i see interactions with people or characters i'm not entirely comfortable with for whatever reason. indie is a little weird and, as previously mentioned, i've had some strange experiences. i encourage controlling your own space in the indie world. for that reason, i'll never take a block personally. also on that note, if we're mutuals and you see me interacting with someone who has, for lack of a better phrase, done some harmful shit, feel free to send me a dm and let me know.

while i'm not personally comfortable disclosing my ethnicity online - it is something that i've been taught to hide when possible - except to people i know and trust and talk to, i will disclose that i do look to new vegas as something to process and explore certain aspects of my identity and family history. i do have intergenerational trauma and that is another reason i may use the block button quite liberally/be either slow to follow back or not follow back at all in some cases as i have seen a lot of interpretations of canon (as well as numerous aspects of canon itself) that i don't feel okay with at all. i expect that people do their research when writing cultures and situations they're not familiar with, and try to meet that expectation myself.

002. minors dni. i'm an adult, and i only want to write with adults.

003. i'm fine with shipping but i like to build rapport between characters first and figure out where they stand. rivalry, friendship, etc are also plots i value - my focus won't entirely be on shipping.

004. best way to start interacting if we're mutuals is just to shoot me a meme or a dm - i guarantee that if i follow you, i'd like to write.

005. if i don't follow back, it's likely because i'm unsure of your rules (aka certain things aren't touched on and i'm not sure where you stand), or if i can't see us interacting. nothing personal.

006. i usually don't write nsfw on tumblr! if i do, it will not be the main focus of the thread. don't mind if others write it, nor do i mind prompts that allude to it, but if i'm writing it i'd prefer it not be the whole story, if that makes sense, and i'd also prefer only to write it with people that i've known for a while.

007. themes present on this blog will sometimes be heavy - canon is heavy. content warnings for colonialism, violence, militarism, fascism, allusions to genocide, allusions to slavery, assimilation, indoctrination, intergenerational trauma, and post traumatic stress disorder. i will tag things whenever possible. if there is anything you need tagged in particular that i miss, or if i ever make a mistake, feel free to reach out and let me know so i can course correct.

#pinned.#dni.

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turbocharliie · 8 years ago

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“Thanks for taking a chance on a naive young girl from California with stars in her eyes and a pneumatic gauntlet on her hand.”

edit: i should point out i did her with the “hispanic” face preset because i don’t know why i just. feel like the “caucasian” preset doesn’t suit her v well???? IDK ITS NOT LIKE I CAN DRAW EITHER ONE

#art tag #more crap #part the reason i depress myself though #is that people on tumblr seem to love hard lineart and bright colour #but i dont really draw i paint??????????////////////#not well but about as well as I do on paper #which is ??? not TERRIBLE but id never say I AM AN ARTIST #tumblr is like. you are or you arent and i think thats where a lot of my insecurity comes from #whatevs here is veronica santangelo

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nightingaelic · 3 years ago

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Reactions to a vampire courier? Companions plus Benny, Ulysses, Graham, House, Caesar, and Yes Man. (sorry if that's too many :x)

TW: Blood (maybe obviously)

Also I don't normally feel some type of way about AUs but the idea of Joshua Graham encountering a vampire courier is giving me shivers

The courier was a little... strange. Not in any way that stood out to the average wastelander just by looking at them, everyone in the Mojave had their quirks and the courier was no exception. Hell, you get shot in the head and come back, you're bound to have a screw or two loose. They were unquestionably a night owl, but so were half the people on the Strip, who only started to wake up after the sun had gone down and the slot machines were singing their loudest. They usually had bags under their bloodshot eyes, but every caravan driver from here to the Hub was short on sleep.

On the other hand, the courier had some habits that were a little beyond surface-level eccentricities. For one, no one had ever seen them eating, not once. Even when the King laid out a spread of pre-war snacks and liquor or when the buffet at the Tops was refreshed, they politely declined and took a swig from the canteen that they never offered to anyone else. They were also rather odd about bathrooms, insisting that anyone accompanying them remain outside on watch and let no one else through the door until they were finished. But the undeniable moment of oddity came one night in October, when their companion rounded a corner in Freeside after a trip to the Atomic Wrangler and discovered the courier behind a rusted dumpster, holding a man against a brick wall with their teeth buried in his neck.

The courier drew back at the interruption, blood smeared across their face. "I'm not- it's not what- he- oh, fuck."

Arcade Gannon: Arcade stared open-mouthed for a moment, before snapping violently back into the present. "Is he dead?"

"Umm..." The courier glanced at the man they were holding, whose head was lolling against the bricks. "Yes? Mostly."

With no patient to resuscitate, Arcade rounded on them. "Six, what in the ever-loving fuck are you doing?"

The courier tried to wipe away the blood that was dribbling from their chin, but they only succeeded in spreading it up their jawline. "Well, I, um, I was trying to..."

Whatever excuse they were searching for eluded them, so they dropped the pretense. "I was feeding, Arcade."

"Feeding? What, like some kind of-" Arcade's eyes widened and he cut his sentence off early in realization. "No. No way. That's not- vampires aren't real!"

That earned him a look of intense skepticism. "Arcade, we've fought off plant monsters and rattlesnake-coyote hybrids together. I have a gun in my pack that lets me teleport."

"Oh, okay, so you have some kind of iron deficiency and you're delusional." Arcade laughed, the sound high and harsh in the quiet alley. "Great. Fuck."

Craig Boone: Rather than engage in an abandoned alley, Boone immediately backtracked to a busier street. He was unsurprised when the courier didn't follow him: Even in Freeside, someone covered in blood was sure to be noticed and questioned.

Boone left town that night and made for Novac. He was pretty sure the courier would follow him, but he didn't know where else to go. At least he knew they were coming. A few people in Novac asked about where he'd been, what the courier was up to, but eventually they stopped asking.

A couple of weeks went by. Boone was on the night shift again when the door into the dinosaur swung open to reveal the courier. He'd heard someone coming, their feet on the stairs, and he already had his gun pointed in their face. "We will never work together again," he said, before they could open their mouth.

"Boone, can you just-"

"I don't want an explanation." Boone shook his head. "I don't need one. I already did you a favor, leaving New Vegas without putting you back in your grave. This is over."

The courier took a deep breath. "71."

"What?"

"71. I've killed 71 Legion soldiers and left their bodies empty under the Mojave sky." They looked down and shuffled their feet. "I've tasted their fear. They're more scared of me than the Burned Man, now."

Boone studied them. Ever so slowly, he lowered his gun.

Lily Bowen: "Put him down, dearie," Lily chastised them. "You're playing too roughly with that man. And watch your language around your grandma!"

The courier looked down at their victim, at their torn throat and limp limbs. "He tried to mug me, Lily. It wasn't pretty."

"He looks like he's had enough," Lily insisted. "Set him down. Gently."

With a sigh, the courier obliged and lowered the man to the ground. "I'm sorry, Lily. I should have told you earlier. I don't mean to be rude when I turn down your cooking, I just... I can't seem to..."

"Hush, now." Lily produced her enormous handkerchief and gathered the courier up in her arms, dabbing at the blood on their face with a corner of the cloth. "You've gotten it all over yourself, haven't you? We can clean that right up, but it looks like Grandma's going to have to do a load of laundry. You made the mess, so you get to help."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: Raul swallowed nervously, something he'd noticed he was increasingly doing around the courier. "You know, we get murciélagos down in Arizona that do the same thing. They won't leave the brahmin alone."

The courier took in his anxious stance and sighed. "Raul, I'm not going to hurt you. Prometo. It's okay."

"Sure boss, but I don't think the hair on the back of my neck is going down anytime soon." Raul smiled, but it was more of a grimace. "Or it wouldn't, if I still had any. Como..?"

"No clue." The courier shrugged and held their hands up, letting the corpse they'd been holding slide to the ground. "I think it had something to do with me surviving Benny's best attempts to do me in, but a bullet is a bullet and I don't remember if I was like this before, or..."

"Or only after." Raul chuckled. "Jesucristo, and here I am thinking I'll outlive you like most everyone else I've known."

"Yep."

"Should I start calling you el chupacabra?"

The courier grinned, a bloody smile with sharp teeth.

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: "Fuck," Cass echoed, scrambling to pull her shotgun from its holster. "Knew I had too much, can't even- who are you and what've you done with the courier? Some kind of cannibal, wearing their skin? Alien? Shapeshifter? I'll blow a hole in your liver to match mine!"

"Whoa, Cass, it's me, it's me!" The courier dropped the man they were holding and held their blood-stained hands up. "Same old Six, just... maybe I wasn't straight with you about why I don't order anything at bars."

"Goddamn right you weren't straight with me!" Cass gestured at the body on the ground with the barrel of her gun. "Who's the fucker on the floor and why are you two pints in on him?"

"Just trying to get my drink on," the courier muttered.

Cass repaid this facetiousness with a jab of her shotgun, and they raised their hands higher. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry! You tell me, how do you tactfully tell someone that you're a creature of the night and you need to drink blood to survive?"

"Creature of the night? You're fucking loopy." Cass' eyes narrowed. "There's plenty of critters in the Mojave that only come out when it's dark, but most of them don't tear into..."

She trailed off into curses when she realized she was wrong. The courier smiled hesitantly and lowered their hands an inch. "Hey. Let me chuck this failed mugger in the dumpster and we can talk about it like a pair of civilized folks?"

Veronica Santangelo: Veronica squeaked and fell back a few steps, banging her elbow against the edge of the dumpster. A jolt of confused pain shot up her arm, and the Scribe couldn't help giggling harshly at the sudden assault on her funny bone.

"Not- laughing... at murder," she managed to get out between hisses of pain. "Oh, for the love of... right, you're not getting out of explaining what you are, exactly, just because I'm indis-indisposed!"

The courier couldn't help laughing at the squirming Scribe, but they did their best to stifle it. "Sorry, I'm sorry, I um... I guess I don't really know... what I am?"

"There's books!" Veronica burst out, pointing at the courier and their victim wildly. "I've seen them, in old libraries. Creatures that feed on blood, only come out at night, don't show up in... in mirrors, of course, no wonder you're weird about bathrooms, I should test... Dracula! That's it, you're a Dracula!"

"A Dracula?" The courier held their hands up, as if seeing them anew. "Never heard of them. Are they... bad?"

"Well, traditionally, yes." Veronica made a face and rubbed her elbow. "Black cloaks, sleeping in coffins, seducing and manipulating everyone around them... and people don't like it when you take their blood, in my experience."

"Whose blood have you taken?"

"This isn't about me, Six!"

ED-E: The eyebot bobbed wildly and made noises of concern, blips and blats and a flat burst of trumpets from some old jazz tune.

"I was hungry," the courier protested. "And this asshole pulled a knife on me and wanted all of my caps. Probably more than that, if we're being honest. He wasn't doing the world any good, but he did me some, for sure."

ED-E flipped between old clips of a Silver Shroud radio show. "Well, isn't this a deep, dark <static> secret? <static> In a situation such as this, the best anyone can do is <static> try to control it!" The robot added some more concerned beeps for good measure.

"I'm trying," the courier said with a sigh, looking down at the dead man they were holding. "You know I wouldn't hurt some random person, ED-E. Not if I could help it. The Mojave's full of bad people, enough to keep me going if I'm careful."

Rex: The hair on Rex's spine stood up, and he let out a long, low growl. The courier froze for a moment, before realizing that he was growling not at them but at the man they were holding.

"He's dead, Rex," they reassured the cyberdog, lowering the corpse to the floor for inspection.

Rex sniffed the body over, taking in the copper scent of his blood and the Freeside stink on his clothes. He sniffed the courier too, each of their hands they held out to him and the thick headiness of adrenaline. He whined and wagged his tail twice.

"Good boy," the courier said, straightening up. "It's about time I turned in, anyway. Let's dump this guy and split."

Benny Gecko: Benny crossed his arms. "You know, Six, if you're dead set on getting your kicks in Freeside every now and then, you might want to ease up on the passions with the next greaser you snag. This one's torn all to pieces."

"I wasn't- what kind of-" The courier dropped the man they were holding and sputtered. "Christ, only you could make a midnight murder awkward, Benny."

"Murder?" Benny raised his eyebrows and looked from side to side theatrically. "Who said anything about a murder? All I saw was some dreamboat and the best apple butterer of New Vegas playing back alley bingo, officer."

The courier's eyes narrowed. "Not gonna rat me out? Tell the King or somebody that I'm..."

"What, taking a page out of the White Glove Society's book?" Benny held his hands up. "None of my business. Well, if you ever come for me with that look in your eyes, though, that'll be a different story."

"Not much you'd be able to do," the courier pointed out. "You already tried and failed to kill me once."

Ulysses: Rather than react like any normal wastelander might've upon encountering someone attacking a man with their teeth, Ulysses just stood there, taking the scene in. "Heard tales of a tribe like you. East, farther east than even I've walked... a coven hiding in tunnels, emerging only when their hungers grow too strong to ignore, strong enough to pull blood from the veins of the world around them."

"Well, I don't hide in tunnels." The courier grimaced and heaved their victim up over their shoulder, depositing them unceremoniously in the dumpster. "Unless some disgruntled Frumentarius sends me out to hunt mutants under Hopeville."

"Perhaps you have more in common with those predators than I assumed," Ulysses admitted. "But then, your path has always run red. Blood of the Old World, blood of the new, blood of the Bull and the Bear..."

The courier rolled their eyes as they peeled off their red-stained coat and tossed it in the dumpster as well. "Don't talk to me about blood. I know you've seen just as much as me, but it doesn't mean the same thing when I look at it."

Ulysses cracked a hint of a smile. "You see life where I see death. Two sides, courier."

"Yeah, yeah. If you're not going to try to kill me, come on. You can wax poetic and lecture me about which road I'm walking while I take a shower."

Joshua Graham: "A creature far from God," Graham said in his most reproachful tone. "Forever damned for the souls of the innocent they've taken from the earth. Aren't we a pair, courier."

"You can fuck right off with that attitude." The courier dropped the man they were holding and wiped their hands on their coat. "He tried to kill me first. For some caps."

"The crimes of others do not absolve you of your own sins, courier," Graham continued, leisurely retrieving his gun from its holster. He held it up in the muted neon light that filtered through the alley, turning the weapon this way and that. "Though I confess I am also looking for absolution in this way."

"Are you going to kill me?" the courier asked, eyeing the gun as well.

"I've no doubt it would leave this world better than when you walked it," Graham replied. "But my own opinions are not enough to seal your fate. Perhaps we should find this man's family and hear their feelings on the matter."

The courier took a step forward, then another, until their chest was right up against the pistol's muzzle, pressed against the fabric of their shirt. "Go ahead. Try."

And though Joshua Graham was sorely tempted to pull the trigger, though the courier made no move to stop him, something in their eyes... some faraway pain, older than the desert itself, fresh as the blood on the ground, stayed his hand.

He lowered the gun, chastised, and the courier walked away.

Robert House: The Securitron that bore Robert House's face on its screen leveled a minigun at the courier. "Whoa!" the courier protested, dropping their victim and putting their hands out. "Can't we talk about this?"

"And what have we to discuss?" House sounded absolutely disgusted. "I believe you're familiar with my contract with the White Glove Society. If they wish to continue their current prosperity in New Vegas, cannibalism is strictly forbidden. You are subject to the same terms and conditions, as one of my employees."

"Terms and condi- hold on, hold on, you never asked me whether I was a cannibal," the courier replied. "Are you talking about that document you had me sign, way back when I agreed to help you fight the NCR and the Legion?"

"The very same."

"How is that fair? That thing was over 200 pages long, I didn't grow up in the 21st century, I don't have a degree in... okay, okay." The courier waved their hands. "Cannibalism is a no-go. This isn't cannibalism, this is vampirism."

"Which falls under the definition of cannibalism," House replied, his annoyed tone still detectable over the sound of the minigun spinning up. "Section 3.65, subsection F. Next time, read the fine print."

Caesar: The Legion's great leader pivoted in an instant from surprise to quiet anger. "Clean yourself up, courier. I expect to see you in my quarters within the hour."

He turned and left the alley swiftly, letting his powerful stride and swinging cloak cover his shaken confidence. The people of Freeside cowered as he passed, shrinking into the shadows as he made his way back to the Strip, but the fear in their eyes was not enough to erase the image of the courier bent over in bloodlust, holding their victim in total subjugation.

The courier found him on the top floor of the Lucky 38, gazing out over the city he had conquered and named his Rome. "Leave us," Caesar bid his Praetorian Guard. They bowed and departed the room without question.

"You asked to see me," the courier said nervously, shifting their weight from foot to foot. They had changed clothes, and no trace of blood remained on them.

"I did." Caesar beckoned them to the window next to him. They stood in silence for a moment, watching the lights wink below.

"I'm a well-read man, courier," Caesar said finally. "I know the legends of the Old World, and I recognize the marks of one of their nightmares in you. I order you to tell me the truth: Do you fit the full definition of the creature they called 'vampire,' or do you simply mimic the things to add to your fearsome affect?"

The courier didn't answer right away. When they did, their voice was soft. "I pretend to be nothing. I am what I am."

"And everything that comes with it?" Caesar pressed. "Darkness, the blood of the innocent, eternity?"

"Yes."

Caesar turned to face them fully. "Then I, Almighty Caesar, command you to make me as you are."

Yes Man: "Now that's a twist I didn't see coming!" Yes Man said, his happy tone only slightly tempered with uncertainty. "Boy, am I glad I don't have a circulatory system right now!"

The courier shushed the Securitron and looked around the alley surreptitiously. "Yes Man, I swear to god, if you blow my cover I'm disassembling you."

"As I've told you before, I can't technically die!" Yes Man reassured them. "And I certainly wouldn't want to endanger you and your hobbies, but my volume mixer is tied to my enthusiasm simulator and I can't adjust it! You'll just have to hope any passersby aren't interested in following my friendly voice into an alley!"

"Then go back to the Lucky 38 and we'll talk later," the courier insisted, through gritted teeth.

"I technically never left! But if you mean this Securitron, sure thing!" Yes Man zoomed away on his single wheel, whistling the whole way back to the casino where the rest of his consciousness was housed. He kept whistling as he ran probability algorithms, only pausing when the courier returned after a few hours and crossed their arms in front of his main screen.

"Hi there!" he said joyfully. "I've just been cross-checking Mr. House's records on noteworthy disappearances in the Strip, and I've flagged eight of them as potentially being connected to you! I don't want to assume your intentions, but if you don't want to be found out, I've developed a plan for choosing your next victims that will help you remain undetected in New Vegas for 184 years! Give or take a few!"

The courier put their head in their hand and sighed.

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believerindaydreams · 4 years ago

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yay I wrote an ending! Again!

It is moar endery than last time tho and pleasingly spooky

Arcade

He's legitimately unclear at this point what's real and what isn't.

Christine for instance has abandoned the use of her sniper rifle altogether, relying on a power glove to take on the hordes of feral ghouls that populate the Dunwich Building. She's a trained Brotherhood assassin whose capabilities he's not privy to- how can he guess if her punches and war cries are her own, or impelled by something past the grave?

And the swish of a heavy coat behind him, the cock of a heavy-duty handgun, the sounds aren't there if he stops to listen properly. They're in the fraught moments, when his attention is too bent on surviving a fight to contemplate distractions.

And Boone. Arcade's almost certain his lover isn't here at all; he wouldn't be here empty-handed, with nothing to defend himself. The shoulder of his survival armor is sodden with dark liquid, his breath doesn't mist in the unwholesome chill.

Nothing can persuade him to use the blood-sight down here. It's not hard to see glowing ones, even in the dark.

Christine leads them down through offices and hallucinations, broken dreams and broken steel overlapping. Her instinct's smooth, unerring; not a wasted movement or wrong turn.

Somewhere along the way he gives way to temptation, takes a folded overcoat from his doctor's bag. The pestilent chill needs something sturdy to ward it off.

Christine watches with amusement, her bared teeth white in the dark; and forces shapeless scribal robes over her stealth suit. The hood reminds him of an illustration he'd seen in a burnt book once, an executioner holding the axe.

The dripping from Boone's wound is audible now, in still moments. He doesn't complain.

They're getting closer- the works of humanity have given way to those of nature, caverns lit by ethereal blue fire and populated by the dead. He and Christine cut their passage forward, each step bought with an unholy life, a guttural cry; and his clean holorifle becomes useless without scientific microfusion to support it. He takes out his ripper instead, slashing limbs that don't bleed and bodies without reason, and fights to preserve the ghost he can't even be sure accompanies them.

There is no silent peace to mark the end of their quest, or none he can hear at least; just a dead end, and Christine's voice as they circle, protecting each other's backs. "This is it. Cover me, I'll use the book."

He is certain the word should have been destroy, not use; but the difference is academic in every sense, with the continued influx of ghouls pressing them. There's too many of them. He can see the fallen remaking themselves, disembodied hands scuttling back to tattered limbs, heads rolling slowly back to torsos. They'll never survive this onslaught.

"I have it," Christine says. "It requires two."

She's read ahead and he hasn't; but the intent of the ritual knife she holds is anything but ambiguous. Arcade fends off a glowing one's attack by lopping it in half, wonders how he can buy breathing space from her.

"Christine. Christine, you don't want to do this."

"Yes, I do." She moves in for the kill, and all that saves him is the ridiculous inadequacy of her small knife, compared to all the weapons

His ripper catches it in mechanical teeth, only to shatter into a mess of gears and flying debris. She binds him to the obelisk, with a heavy twine woven from punga vines.

"Please don't...don't. Veronica's gone, this isn't going to bring her back."

"You want me to be rational," Christine says, a tear mixing with the sweat and blood running down her face. "You want me to give up a one in a million chance to bring my lover back, because you live and breath. Arcade. I'd kill my way through a hundred as good and pure as you, for the faintest chance of seeing her one last time."

She swings in the blade for the kill, one sure slash towards his throat; and Veronica Santangelo blocks it. Pushes the knife back on its owner.

"Not again...I can't have a Follower die for me again..."

Christine lets go of the knife, holds Veronica in a sobbing, ecstatic embrace; and then there is finally silence, a moment of pure peace before Veronica draws the knife down, through the back into the heart.

The knife rings out, as it clatters to the floor; the book falls with an obscene rustle of pages. The rest is ash and dust.

Arcade frees himself with a fragment of his ripper, grabs the ritual objects in a vague hope they'll fend anything away, give him power. The mass of ghouls running towards him don't seem impressed.

What does impress them is the unmistakable sound of a 10mm bullet piercing a rotten skull.

Arcade gives up. Calls in the blood-sight the way Boone had warned him never to do, alone and unmoored; and can see the mass of undead approaching this spot, a horde, a flood. The wanderer poised against them.

And somewhere, very far up, a warm human life with a beating heart. A beacon back to everything sane.

"For the Enclave," Autumn says quietly, reloading his pistol.

Arcade meets his gaze, one last time; and throws him the overcoat before running for dear life.

*****

Boone is sleeping outside the entrance when Arcade makes it out, peaceful and untroubled. There's no wound on him.

Arcade shakes his head, liberally avails himself of the medicines and chems Boone's thoughtfully hauled along. What's left should still see them back to Point Lookout, if they're careful.

"You waited for me," he says, when Boone wakes up.

"Sure." The sniper lifts a lid off a pot, sniffs it. "Made that stew you liked."

"Beer and mole rat meat, wasn't it?"

"Something like that."

They eat under a dark sky pockmarked with stars, and the food is warming and the book looks like a book. He thinks he can go back and forget all this, if not forgive it.

"Christine died down there?" Boone asks, around a mouthful of potato.

"Yeah. She...she didn't want to live, without Veronica."

Boone does something that can really only be described as cuddling up to him, flank to flank and an arm against his back. "Glad you disagreed."

"...I think you may have saved my life down there."

There is, he thinks, something very restful about being able to say that and just being offered more soup in response.

"Radio's been buzzing," Boone says after a while. "Seems somebody blew up the Citadel. Funny thing is, nobody's claiming credit."

"Not even the Enclave?"

"Judah came on to say...denouncing in the strongest possible terms, something like that. Three Dog is saying the Brotherhood should sue for peace, whatever suing means."

"I'm not sure that will end well. An Enclave-Brotherhood alliance could be a terrible thing."

"You gonna go back to Raven Rock and do something about it?"

It doesn't take him so long as a breath to make up his mind. "No. You know what? I want to take this book back to the people who were worshipping it, and give them some tips about not letting it be stolen next time. Then I want to weed my herb garden. Then I want to organize the Boardwalk library, and lie in the sun with you and Manny and Carla and Daisy, and just...be. Finish my stimpak research. Stop taking every ill of the wasteland on my shoulders, because there'll never be an end to it."

"Sounds like a good plan. Home."

"Home."

They fall asleep together, for once; and no denizen of the wasteland comes to harm them.

#ttw draft

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cheatdeathsarchive · 4 years ago

Text

Her dress is the color of the sunset when it’s warm and bright and paints the world that pretty orange-gold. It goes well with her hair, her freckles, her eyes, her smile, and Six likes how light it all makes her feel. It’s not like Benny, not like House. She laughs and giggles and they walk arm in arm down the lit up streets. Six thinks about how Ronnie was in love once and wonders if it felt like this.

Cause she thinks she feels it, thinks she gets it. If love is a color maybe it’s orange. The dress catches the light in a way -- from orange to yellow to gold, and it’s better than any sunset, she thinks. She wants to tell Ronnie, too, but the butterflies in her stomach fly into her throat and she doesn’t know how to rightly say it yet. There will be time later.

There’s an... what’s the term? An Ellie Fant in the room. Six doesn’t know who that is or why her presence is so big, but she’s here and it is. Ellie is one they’ve both been happy to ignore. There were dresses to buy, drinks to be had. There was music and dancing and pretending like things were alright for a day. There was soft hair to rest their cheeks against, and the teasing of fingertips at calloused knuckles and sheepish glances that were safe from wry comments.

They paint the town red like Jane likes to say. They out-party the NCR troopers, watch people come and go and give them all a story which is usually the opposite of how Six likes to daydream. This is fun too, though -- to have a face and to wonder about all that is behind it. The sun is still waiting for its debut, but the horizon is turning a pretty light purple, and Six thinks that would be a pretty color on Veronica Santangelo, too.

Robert House is livid, still so livid, but Six still has run of the Lucky 38. Probably as an incentive. Probably because he knows she’ll go through with what he demands. Not on his terms, she thinks, Not when I’ve learned from Benny and fooled the Legion. Not when I could talk a dying man out of his last drop of water.

Her plan will work. It has to work. They sneak quietly down the hall in case any of their other companions are spending the night in their rooms. No doubt though their exaggerated whispers and giggling are louder than they think. Nobody bothers them all the same. Six turns the radio in her suite on, and Veronica looks around like she’s never been in here before even though she has.

Six loves that -- she does it too sometimes. One time they found a whole mess of old world coins in the couch cushions. Another time they found a time capsule of old world treasures hidden under a mattress. It’s fun to explore the places people haven’t gotten to in ages. Their party could keep going, but Ellie Fant is here and waiting, her arms crossed and Veronica is sick of her presence, too.

“Have you decided?” She asks with a conviction in her voice that Six is immediately aware that she’s practiced, “About what House said, I mean... you’re not going through with it, are you?”

Pretty brown eyes are staring her down. Six replies with a smile, though it’s demure. The Brotherhood’s got her all kinds of conflicted. She can’t imagine how much worse it is for Veronica.

“I don’t wanna kill your family, Ronnie. Family’s all we got out here.” That seems to put her at ease, “But Mr. House ain’t willin’ to listen to me. I tried. I’m thinkin’... I could talk to some caravans, get ‘em set up for supplies... There’s a whole mess of space between here and Tucson.”

Ronnie picks it up, and her appeasement shifts into a cold realization. Six bites her lip, gives her the best helpless look she can muster. Ronnie doesn’t bite.

“That’s not an option,” Veronica replies with a very pointed frown. There isn’t anymore happiness in her face even though it hasn’t been anything but fun this evening. Six sighs. Ronnie insists, “That bunker is our home, Six. It’s hard enough when we get sent out for supply runs under cover. Nobody’s going to help supply an entire chapter of the Brotherhood.”

That makes Six shake her head -- she has favors she can call in, but it’s time for a new approach, “Mr. House won’t listen to reason -- your Elder might, Ronnie. Maybe this is the push they need to adapt.”

“By making them homeless? By taking away the one place we can hide from the NCR, the Legion? By making them all open targets?”

“Better than all dead without a fightin’ chance,” And maybe those are the wrong words. Six takes a breath, “I wanna help you Ronnie, I do... but Mr. House, he --”

“Saved your life, I know. You know what else I know? That you’ve done whatever you had to do with that weird little poker chip he’s so obsessed with. You did your job. He might have saved your life, but why can’t you live it for yourself?”

'Cause she loves him is why. 'Cause she believes in him. Six keeps her mouth shut. She loves Veronica, too, misses the wrinkle in her nose when she laughs. Veronica continues.

“So what?” She fishes, and Six fidgets. Six can hear Benny tutting from whatever hole he’s crawled into, “You want my permission to... to banish the Brotherhood from the Mojave? Because your boss is a megalomaniac dictator?”

Elder McNamara is so much better, Six wants to say, Most the folks down there don’t like your attitude Ronnie, that’s another. Neither are kind, so she opts to say neither at all.

“Autocrat,” Six argues, steeled and frustrated and suddenly stone cold sober. Veronica can’t even look at her right now, “What he can do for the Mojave Ronnie... it’s a hell of a lot more than livin’ underground and hoardin’ weapons you don’t trust people with like you deserve the authority of who gets to have ‘em. It’s resource guardin’, it’s not safe, it’s --”

“Shut up,” Veronica mutters, “just... shut the fuck up.”

Six swallows. Bites her lip so hard she thinks it’s gonna bruise, and takes ten deep breaths. Veronica doesn’t say anything else. Six takes that as permission to speak again, “...I’m gonna get a drink, okay?” Veronica doesn’t answer. She’ll take it as permission, “...I’ll figure somethin’ out, alright? I promise. Nobody’s gotta die.”

Still, nothing. Six hesitates, a small step backwards before finally peeling her eyes away from that pretty orange dress and the woman wearing it. She moves to the kitchen. The medic in her knows water is what’s good. The hedonist in her reaches for a Sunset Sarsaparilla instead. the cap gets popped off and she takes a sip. The vice tastes good, but it’s not enough to make her smile. She’s gotta rethink her plan now.

The sounds of a pneumatic gauntlet rev up behind her. Six knows she can either turn around or duck, and she chooses to duck. Veronica cracks the door of the fridge so deep Six can feel the cold slipping through the crack where the door doesn’t line up right anymore.

“Ronnie --” Six gasps, turning around to see her winding her fist back up. Punches -- the gift that keeps on giving, “Ron, please, hang on. Please, don’t --”

“Shut. Up!” Ronnie screams, and Six is so afraid that someone who isn’t either of them can hear the shouting and the sounds of combat, “I won’t let you.”

The second swing comes, and Six feels it hit her hair just barely as she somersaults out of the way across broken glass and spilled soda and scrambles to her feet. The tiles on the floor shatter. She’s got a silenced .22 under her dress and it shouts at her in Benny’s voice -- never go into a casino unarmed, pussycat. You really fucked this one up, didn’t you?

“Please,” Six begs, and she can only turn around before Veronica tackles her, pins her down. Six kicks, tries to scramble backwards, tries to beg to get Veronica to listen. Veronica grabs her shoulder and sits on her, her gauntlet reeling back. Six struggles more as the first punch lands. She tastes iron, feels the hot sting of skin split open above her left eye. Veronica pulls her fist back and she paints the room red. Her grip loosens just a touch and Six isn’t sure when the gun made it to her hand, but it’s there and she pulls the trigger. Later she finds out it’s right through her heart.

“Don’t --” Veronica Santangelo says, and it’s her last word. There are a million things on her face. She looks... scared. Shocked. Confused. Scared. Scared, scared, so scared. Six gasps, and before Veronica falls on top of her entirely she pushes the still warm corpse to fall beside her instead, rolling away to rest her head against cool tile, and she closes her eyes. Just for a second, she thinks, but when she opens them again Boone is here and so is Victor. The sun is out and pretty shades of yellow and orange shine through the windows.

“Don’t touch her,” Six snaps, her head aching from the hangover. She spits blood out of her mouth.

“We’re just wantin’ to help you clean up a bit, Sugar,” the robot says, very placating, and when Six rolls over she sees he’s holding the body of Veronica Santangelo like a baby. Courier Six screams bloody murder. Boone helps her up. Walks her to the bathroom. Six can’t stop screaming.

She doesn’t know where Victor’s taken her as the sniper cleans her wounds. She never bothers to ask. She doesn’t know when she stops screaming, doesn’t know why she can’t cry instead -- probably because Boone is staring her down behind his aviators and she’s pretty sure she knows just how he’s watching her.

She blames the Brotherhood and slips on her vault suit. Blames them as she goes into Ronnie’s room to slip her scribe robes on top of her outfit. Six blames them as she walks to the Hidden Valley and slips in with the utmost care to be a shadow on the wall. This is a family and they know their people. The disguise doesn’t work if she stops, so Six doesn’t stop. Her head is down and she blames every single person in here for being so rigid, so stuck in their ideals.

It’s their fault that Veronica became disillusioned with them. It’s their fault they are not willing to bend. It’s their fault they are ruined. She sprints out of the Bunker as the sirens go off, throwing the caution and stealth she had been using to the wind along with the burlap hood and robes. The ground rumbles, and she can’t blame them anymore.

It’s not their fault. It never was.

It’s hers.

#here is an early bday gift for six :')#happy birthday bitch u ain't allowed to be happy #drabble tag pending.#tw violence #tw gun mention #tw gun violence #tw blood #tw death #pls ask for additional tags i am sure i'm missing some!#( ic. ) resume save file.#( arc i. ) war never changes; men do through the roads they walk / main.

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what-inthe-goddamn · 5 years ago

Note

Thank you for doing my request about teenage courier walking away from the gates to the strip. I love it! Can we do a sequel where the companions react to the couriers returning more mature and prepared to face Benny like a year after walking away and going to Utah. That’s if your not busy?

Arcade Gannon: The Courier passed his mind every so often. He hated to see someone so young go back on the road, especially since he couldn’t go with them. The followers needed him too much. Arcade would hope that they were alright. God only knows what they’re facing out there. He wasn’t very optimistic about them coming back, the weight of going after Benny must have been too much. He honestly couldn’t blame them. Julie called him over to the neighboring tent, saying someone asked for him. He couldn’t think of anyone asking for him by name. Half the people he deals with bareley remember theirs. But who does he see when he steps into that tent? No one other than the Courier themselves. They had grown taller, their face was slightly thinner, their bright eyes now squinted with focus. “Are you hurt?” was the first thing he asked them. “No. But I had a question for you…” Arcade was offered to go back to the Strip. To help them with Benny once and for all. Arcade had to consider it for a few moments. He sighed and shrugs. “Why not? It was getting boring around here…”

Craig Boone: Boone didn’t think of the Courier much after they left. The occasionally passing wonder of what they were doing, but nothing more than that. A knock on the door of the sniper’s nest startled him. Boone opened it up to find the Courier, who he didn’t quite recognize at first. The sun had tanned and roughened their skin; they were a bit taller too. They asked him if he wanted to help them get back at Benny. He almost didn’t believe they were seriously going to go through with it until they passed the gates themselves. He saw that look in their eye as they walked towards the Tops’ doors. They were ready to finish this.

ED-E: The little bot would have followed them all the way to Zion had they let ED-E. But he was left at the Mormon Fort, much to Arcade’s dismay. The days passed, then weeks, and finally it had been 372 days since they Courier had disappeared. On that 372nd day, ED-E sensors picked out a familiar figure walking towards him. “I’m ready, little buddy.” The Courier said, leading the happy little bot out of the fort. He hovered next to them towards the gates of The Strip, finally passing through them.

Raul Tejada: Everyday was the same since the Courier up and left him at the front door of the Tops. Raul only had his shack to go back to, and that’s were had been since. The only thing he could do to kill time was read and tinker with the odd machine he brought back home from scavenging. For a year or so it went on like this. That was until a person approached him while he was just coming back home. He didn’t recognize them due to the mask, but their voice struck a chord. “Six?” He brings them in and asks them question after question about where they’ve been what they’ve been doing. Six tell him their ready to go back to the Strip and asks if he wanted to go with them. Raul wouldn’t pass up that opportunity to the world.

Rex: It seemed like decades had passed since Six dropped him back off to the King. He still missed them terribly to this day. On one day he heard the door swing open, not lifting his head up to see who it was. That was until two familiar boots had stepped up to him, and the voice of the Courier called to him. Rex jumped up into Six’s arms and licked their face happily. Six assured him they were back for good. Rex diligently followed them to the gates of the Strip, this time the Courier seeming more determined to pass through them.

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: She can’t believe that kid left her there like an idiot. Didn’t matter how much she tried, Six turned tail and wussed out. Now she was left to pick up odd jobs to make back all that money she spent on that damn passport. She wasn’t making that mistake again. Cass finally got some time to herself and settled at the bar one night. Not even halfway into her drink, somebody steps into the bar and makes their way towards her. “Thought I’d find you here.” Cass snapped around to bark at them when she saw who it was. That damn kid! But they looked different… “You’ve gotta be shitting me…” Six sat next to her, hopefully explaining themselves for what they pulled at the gates. They actually went to Utah! Whatever happened their must have roughed them up a bit. The Courier was sporting a couple new scars, and a cold look too. “I’m back for Benny.” Cass thought they were joking. “That’s real funny, you gonna dip again?” she snarked. It took some convincing, but if they were really gonna go into Tops and hunt that checker-coated bastard, she might as well help them raise some hell. Been waiting nearly a damn year for this.

Veronica Santangelo: Who cares if they left? She’s going to have some fun! The touring of Vegas wasn’t as fun as she hoped it would have been, but of course Six was supposed to be her buddy in this. Instead, they ditched her. Oh well. Three casinos, two new dresses, and one year later she spotted a familiar person hovering near the entrance of the Strip. Was that… Six?! Veronica dashed over to them and scooped them up into a hug. “Where have you been?” she asked them. “You’re taller than me now!” After berating them with questions they sheepishly stated they were back. “You’re finally gonna whack Benny- “, she was shushed by them. “Yes. You in?” they whispered. Veronica considered it. What’s the harm in making a little trouble, especially for a jerk like Benny?

And so the saga continues! If I’m gonna be honest I was nervous to go into the Tops to face Benny. After going to his room I must have reloaded my save 15 times cause I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to kill him in his sleep or let him go. I let him go in the end only to find out he was captured at Caesar's tent. Good going Benny.

#fallout #fallout new vegas #my post #fallout new vegas companions #fallout new vegas companions react #companion reactions #companions react #fallout companions react #fallout companion reactions #arcade gannon #craig boone #ed-e #raul tejada #rex #rose of sharon cassidy #cass #veronica santangelo

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syrupwit · 3 years ago

Text

Letter for Chocolate Box 2022

Hello there, and welcome to my letter for Chocolate Box Exchange 2022! I appreciate that you’ve taken the time to read this letter. I hope that it will provide you with clarification, inspiration, or whatever else you may happen to be seeking from it.

I have requested fic only for all fandoms. Although I’ve written more for some sections in this letter and less for others, rest assured I would be thrilled to receive a gift for any of the requested fandoms or relationships. Should you have any questions or need clarification on something, please feel free to reach out through the mods.

Please see the table of contents below:

Likes

Do Not Want (DNW)

Fandom - Crossover Fandom

Fandom - Dishonored

Fandom - Fallout 4

Fandom - Fallout: New Vegas

Fandom - Gravity Falls

Fandom - Stellar Firma

LIKES

I have a very long list of likes here.

Here are some of my general likes:

Humor, especially absurd, situational, or dark humor

Surreality and weirdness

Stories within a story, in-universe media

Lore and worldbuilding, missing background information

Cool, creepy, or unusual magic systems and supernatural stuff

Genre mixing and pastiche

Ensemble characters coming together to do stuff; sense of community, especially if it persists despite tensions, hurts, and differences that are not easily resolved; unusual team-ups

Dramatic rescues

Identity porn

Emotional hurt/comfort or hurt no comfort

Pining -- requited, unrequited, partially/cautiously/eventually requited

Messed up relationships where both parties are getting something out of the arrangement but in an unbalanced way

Unresolved tension (emotional, sexual, or romantic)

Gratuitous descriptions of scenery, food, clothing, ancient cursed objects, etc.

Here are some of my smut likes:

Characters being super into each other, especially if one or both of them are conventionally unattractive

Emotionally intense or significant sex scenes

Awkwardness

Repression

First times

Virginity, loss of virginity

“Chicken,” denial, teasing; one character flirting just enough for plausible deniability and the other not believing that they could be serious; one character hurting the other, purposefully or unwittingly, when they take the teasing too far

Jealousy, especially if the jealous character is guilty or in denial about their feelings

Sex pollen/mating cycles/in heat

Male characters being submissive

DO NOT WANT (DNW)

Characters depicted as under age 16 involved in sexual situations

Characters having sex without mutual sexual attraction (I love G- and T-rated shipfic and would be fine with sex not being mentioned at all, but for works featuring sexual content, I don’t want it to be explicitly stated that the characters are not attracted to each other)

Hate speech or hate crimes (discussions/mentions of bigotry are fine)

Harm to pet animals (the existence of ghost pets is OK, and it’s fine to mention pet animals that have canonically died, but I don’t want to hear about injury, abuse, or noncanonical death of pet animals)

Bestiality

Scat

Necrophilia (sexual activity involving ghosts or sentient skeletons/undead is OK, just not inanimate corpses or remains)

Sexual activity involving worms / spiders / insects

Fandom-Specific: Dishonored -- Mindy Blanchard being explicitly written as not a trans woman

FANDOM - CROSSOVER FANDOM

Cait (Fallout 4)/Rose of Sharon Cassidy (Fallout: New Vegas)

I’m so here for the absolute trainwreck that this ship has the potential to be. The anger and pain that both characters are carrying around; the age difference (Cass would be in her early forties by the time of Fallout 4, while Cait is 26); Cass’s functional alcoholism and Cait’s escalating drug addiction—things could end really poorly here! Or what if they somehow turned out well? Either way, I’m interested.

Paladin Danse (Fallout 4) & Veronica Santangelo (Fallout: New Vegas)

Danse and Veronica have very different relationships to the organization they regard as family. I’d love to see them interact, however improbable it may be, whether Veronica is still with the Brotherhood or has struck out on her own.

Piper Wright (Fallout 4)/Veronica Santangelo (Fallout: New Vegas)

These two have a lot in common -- they’re both super quippy! They typically wear some kind of head covering! They care too much for their own good! Piper could hire mysterious stranger Veronica to be her bodyguard after one too many death threats or something. I don't know, they just seem like they'd have a ton of fun together.

Willow Rosenberg (Buffyverse) & Granny Weatherwax (Discworld)

Late addition -- I just saw this in the tagset and went WHAT?! I'd love to see how these two would interact, what kind of screw-up on either end would result in their meeting, and what Granny might see in Willow and vice versa. Granny meeting a younger Willow, for example, could be pretty painful. Alternately, something about them meeting throughout the years could be fun and also devastating. Alternately alternately: humorous mishaps?

FANDOM - DISHONORED

Daud & Emily Kaldwin

For two characters who meet only briefly in canon, Daud and Emily have an inordinate impact on each others' lives. It would be fascinating to watch them interact when Emily is an adult, especially in a situation where they're forced to work together (both held captive in the Albarca Baths? something goes wrong in a canon-divergent way during the events of Dishonored 2? Emily goes adventuring in the Void and meets a familiar ghost?).

Emily Kaldwin/Kirin Jindosh

I shipped this from Jindosh's first cutscene. He seems so eager to find a worthy adversary, and delighted when the player character demonstrates supernatural abilities. I want to see Emily dom the hell out of him. I'd also love something where, for whatever reason, he has to work for her side, or where a high chaos Emily wreaks havoc and he loves it (or doesn't).

(Note: Although I’m fine with mentioning or exploring Jindosh's canon nonlethal fate, I’d prefer that it not be played for comedy.)

Delilah Copperspoon/Lizzy Stride

Dunwall houses so many interesting characters who are contemporaries but don't meet onscreen. I think Delilah and Lizzy could have a really interesting dynamic. I'd love anything with these two interacting, or perhaps an AU where Delilah is the one to break Lizzy out of prison (motive TBD).

Galia Fleet & Billie Lurk

Galia's jealousy/potential one-sided rivalry thing with Billie is great. I'd love to hear more about Galia and Billie's days with the Whalers, or any potential interaction between games or post-canon -- Billie time-traveling and encountering Galia during her dissolute Golden Cat years? AU where Galia survives? Angry ghost Galia follows Billie back from the Void after the events of Death of the Outsider?

Ivan Jacobi & Winstead | Ivan Jacobi/Winstead

Winstead is Ivan Jacobi’s servant, to whom he addresses his final note. Jacobi calls Winstead his “closest confidante, dear to [him] as a brother,” and has clearly trusted him with a great deal of Eyeless business. What was their relationship like before the events of Death of the Outsider? Feel free to make this dark, or very dark, and to lean into weird class stuff and Jacobi’s family issues.

Lucia Pastor & Mindy Blanchard | Lucia Pastor/Mindy Blanchard

These characters are both so interesting, and likely to meet at some point if they haven’t already. I’d love to see how they get along, or don’t. Depending on Emily or Corvo’s actions in the Dust District and Stilton Manor, Mindy and Pastor have very different circumstances to deal with after the end of the game; for a prompt, I’d love something about their relationship in various AUs.

FANDOM - FALLOUT 4

Deacon/X6-88

Spy vs. courser, heck yeah! There are so many fun things that could be done with these two. I love the idea of Deacon being genuinely scared of X6, and X6 maybe grudgingly starting to respect Deacon as an opponent after they've had a few encounters. I'd especially enjoy some sort of hurt/comfort or rescue (from the Brotherhood? Raiders? angry settlers?) scenario for this pairing, or a 5+1 Things fic about their interactions over the years.

DiMA & Nick Valentine

One of the most complicated and potentially tragic family relationships in a game full of twisted, complicated, tragic family relationships. I'd love to see these two having deep conversations; navigating moral conundrums; doing normal daily-life things around Acadia; or just chilling out, however "chilling out" might look to them.

Ellie Perkins & Nick Valentine | Ellie Perkins/Nick Valentine

I love the banter and loyalty between Ellie and Nick! They're clearly so fond of each other. A look at their relationship over the years, or how things shake out post-Far Harbor, would be great, as would hurt/comfort from either direction. I've selected both the platonic and romantic versions of this ship because I enjoy both and have no preference between them.

Female Sole Survivor/The Mariner

The Mariner’s reaction at the end of The Great Hunt is so cute that it made me ship her with the Sole Survivor. She's been expecting an epic, life-changing adventure with this new friend she wants to impress, and what she gets is... what happens in the quest. I'd love some fluff or getting-together fic for this pairing, especially something that leans into the Mariner being awkward, super-handy, and given to sinister pronouncements about the Island (and the Sole Survivor being charmed by all of it).

(Note: I have no preference regarding the Sole Survivor's faction alignment. I usually go with "Nora" and the default backstory, but if there's a name or backstory you'd rather use, please go for it.)

John Hancock/Paladin Danse

This seems like it would be a total mess; I’m into those! These characters both have strong senses of justice and are very hard on themselves, and I think they could bond over that. I would particularly love something set after Blind Betrayal, or a take on this pairing where Danse works through his bigotry before developing feelings for Hancock and there’s unrequited pining from Danse’s side. Unexpected hurt/comfort, a “hurt me not him” situation, or one rescuing the other would also be great.

FANDOM - FALLOUT: NEW VEGAS

(Note: Unless otherwise indicated, I have no set preference regarding gender, faction, karma, or backstory for the Courier. Go hog wild.)

Benny & Yes Man

I love New Vegas, that rat fink Benny, and everything to do with Yes Man. Please tell me more about the relationship between these two, what they got up to pre-canon, and what might perhaps have happened if Benny had been able to carry out his original plans.

Courier & Doctor Mobius

Doctor Mobius is the cutest old mad scientist. I'd love to see him and the Courier having fun together, however they might define "fun" -- staging fake fights to distract the Big MT scientists! taking the robo-scorpions on a field trip to New Vegas! just hanging out and inventing new monstrosities together!

Courier & Stealth Suit Mk II

The suit is so cute! Why? (I sold so many cool items in Old World Blues to keep it repaired. So many.) I'd love to hear more about the suit's relationship with the Courier and the escapades they get up to. Does the suit have any secret built-in functions, and do they come in handy in a crisis or make a bad situation worse?

Female Courier/Stealth Suit Mk II

The suit is so cute, part II: What if the suit fell in love? Does it have any functions related to love? How does a stealth suit, built for sneaking and hiding, learn to reveal its innermost feelings? I'd love something fluffy or silly or humorous for this pairing, including smut.

Courier/Mr. House

Mr. House is such an interesting character, and his dynamic with the Courier can go some fascinating places. I'm particularly intrigued by his potential relationship with a more chaotic or evil Courier, especially one who chooses to complete his questline without betraying him.

Craig Boone/Ulysses

This pairing occurred to me a few weeks ago, and while it's a terrible idea, something about it intrigues me. It's like a math problem -- how could these characters get together without killing each other? Here are a few ideas:

Ulysses' old home at Wolfhorn Ranch is right down the road from Novac, along one potential route to Cottonwood Cove. Did Ulysses ever have to buy supplies from Novac or deliver packages there? Did Boone ever get super drunk, decide he was going to take down the Legion on his own, and end up passing out in Ulysses' garden?

What if Boone got lost in the Divide while searching for an AWOL Courier, and Ulysses, for whatever reason, decided not to kill him?

What if they met through the Courier, post-canon?

Dean Domino/Vera Keyes/Frederick Sinclair

There are bad idea threesomes, and then there’s this. I'd love some uncomfortable three-way UST, Dean being an asshole and being over-familiar with Vera to make Sinclair jealous, or the three of them actually sleeping together in a way that does or doesn't change any of the DLC events.

FANDOM - GRAVITY FALLS

Bill Cipher/Ford Pines

This pairing won me over somewhere between the first time Bill says "Sixer" and his ominous piano serenade while Ford is chained up in the Fearamid. Please tell me more about bitter exes; consensual possession; hero-worship gone wrong; arrogant yet lonely scientists bulldozing their way into terrible situations; and deals with eldritch beings who exist beyond time and morality, but toooootally care about you as a person and aren't just using you, yep, sure.

Fiddleford H. McGucket/Ford Pines

There's so much potential for complex feelings and conflict and pining in this relationship, it's great. I would love something about these two set before everything went wrong, or while things were in the process of going wrong; I'd also love something set post-canon where they're trying to repair their relationship.

(Note: Although I'm fine with exploration of Fiddleford's mental health and memory issues, I would prefer that they not be played for straight comedy. Black comedy or horror-comedy from his POV would be great though!)

Bill Cipher/Dipper Pines

Another relationship with a lot of potential! Ford isn't the only occult-obsessed, manipulable nerd in the Pines family, although Dipper -- imo -- takes a little more after Stan in the self-sacrifice department. I'd love something where Bill chooses to play the long game, or maybe develops a bit of possessiveness towards Dipper; something where he torments Dipper over his crush on Wendy, or becomes jealous without being aware of it, would also be great.

(Note: I'm more interested in scenarios for this ship set at least a few years post-canon, and per my DNWs I would request that Dipper be 16 or older for any sexual situations.)

FANDOM - STELLAR FIRMA

Number 1/Number 48

They're top-secret corporate somethings with an evil plot, and they're in marriage counseling! Please tell me more about their everyday lives, terrible schemes, and post-canon adjustments and adventures.

Bathin/Trexel Geistman

Bathin is a pan-galactic heartthrob and all-around eradicator of bummers; Trexel is the most hated man in the universe, or at least in the top ten among such men. Bathin and Trexel went to (virtual?) school together, where Bathin apparently called Trexel "buddy" a lot, and Trexel confabulated memories of Bathin bullying him and did not fantasize about smelling him or dancing together. I'd love to hear more about their relationship, whether it's set during their pre-canon school days, post-canon after the destruction of Stellar Firma, or in a missing scene from canon.

Bathin/David 7/Trexel Geistman

Semi-canonical love triangle! (David 7->Bathin->Trexel->David 7.) David's interest in Bathin, at least, is unambiguously text. We see a lot of David and Trexel interacting in canon, but Bathin remains an offscreen if outsized presence except for one recording. I'm interested in seeing how the dynamic between these three might play out, and of course I'm here for hijinks and complicated or disturbingly straightforward feelings.

David 7 & IMOGEN

For all IMOGEN can be sinister and mysterious, her relationship with David ends up as one of the sweetest and most positive in the show. I'd love something about the two of them post-canon, adjusting to new lives and roles while battling whatever wacky foes the wider universe throws up against them. Something about their developing relationship during canon would also be fantastic.

David 7/Trexel Geistman

I don't know why I love this ship so much, but I do. Please give me all the weird tropey* nonsense for them -- canon-era, AUs, or post-canon once they've had time to settle into their new lives and understand each other differently. I'd especially love a pining Trexel who acts like even more of an asshole, and a David who hates him but can't quite let him go.

*some tropey ideas: Wingfic! Amnesia! Fake dating to fulfill a clause of Trexel's inheritance! Meeting in dreams, but then it turns out the dreams belong to a psychic starfish who's pretty miffed about them being there? Trexel is assumed dead and David is unexpectedly bummed out, but then it turns out Trexel was alive the whole time and is now asking them for money. Trexel is a were-cat, the old kind with legs. Trexel is a were-space-cat with no legs. David has reverse hanahaki and it's Trexel's fault (good luck). Time loop.

David 7/Trexel Geistman/Hartro Piltz

The dynamic between these three is always fun, but its evolution from mutual hostility to working together in Season 3 was one of my favorite parts of the show. Please just show me more of them together, being ridiculous and having varying levels of fun!

Hartro Piltz/Trexel Geistman

I love love love the dynamic between Hartro and Trexel, including the foot thing. They're one of my favorite ships in any fandom. I'd be happy with just about anything for them, but if prompts would be helpful: I'd love something set pre-canon with Trexel causing trouble and Hartro having to clean it up, more team-building exercises of a dubious nature, or fallout from the finale on the escape pod.

#optional detailed letters for exchanges tag #this signup is no longer in progress!

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nightingaelic · 3 years ago

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Companions reacting to A courier who loves nerding about guns and info dumping about how they work and when they were used in the war? So much so that one time they gasped in awe mid battle Becuase the legionnaire that was attacking them had a battle rifle, or an “M1 garand.” As Six called it.

TW: Guns, gore

Something changed, halfway through the team of legionary assassins that had surprised the courier and their companion beside their campfire in the desert. The vexillarius' first shot had missed, sealing his fate, and the veteran legionary that had rushed in to fill the gap had fallen afoul of one of the protective land mines placed before the sun went down. That left the black-feathered Prime decanus firing 10 mm rounds and swinging around a machete to fill the gaps, and the red-crowned centurion that was wielding some kind of semi-automatic rifle with obvious finesse.

It was this gun that drew the courier's attention, so much so that they gasped and abandoned cover, even as the centurion was still firing rounds. Amidst the bullets, the courier ran the decanus through with his own machete and turned on the man with the gun that sounded like thunder trapped inside a tin can. It took a few well-placed kicks and both barrels of a caravan shotgun before the centurion lay still. The courier pried the fallen soldier's rifle from his hands, held it up in the dim firelight and whistled, long and low.

"It's an M1 Garand," they said with reverence, looking down the iron sights. "Yep, eight-round clip, conversion to .308 for pre-war naval use. You beauty. How did you wind up in Legion hands?"

Arcade Gannon: "Same way everything winds up in Legion hands," Arcade answered, exasperated. "They took it. Because they could. Let's talk about how you keep tossing yourself into the line of fire just to get a good look at whatever's being fired at you, hmm?"

The courier ignored him and shot a round into the dusty earth, gasping in delight again at the soft clink of the automatically-ejected cartridge. "He was almost out," they said, checking the chamber and ignoring Arcade's startled yelp, before launching into a lengthy explanation of the gun's history.

"Christ." Arcade shook his head and turned back to the campfire, picking the fallen legionaries' canteens up as he went.

Craig Boone: "Attacks on NCR troops, most likely." Boone kicked the centurion aside and joined the courier in examining the gun. "Lieutenant Boyd at Camp McCarran has one. The NCR just calls them battle rifles."

"Here, look." The courier handed Boone the rifle and pointed at its various pieces. "It needs some refinishing, but most of the parts are original USGI - er, United States government issue - except the spacer block."

Boone nodded solemnly. If there was one thing he and the courier could talk about safely, it was weapons.

Lily Bowen: "Dearie!" Lily bellowed. "You can't keep jumping into things every time you spot some new, shiny gun to collect!"

"Lily," the courier protested, clutching the rifle close. "You can't find these just anywhere, nowadays. This'll run you over a thousand caps at the Gun Runners, and that's just for the ones they're currently making. Something this old needs to be taken care of."

"You need to be taken care of!" Lily argued.

"But Lily..."

"No buts!" Lily stomped over and easily deprived the courier of the gun. "Now go sit down and eat. You can have the gun again after supper."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: "There you go again, adopting antiques," Raul joked. "Good condition for a pre-war rifle."

"No kidding." The courier cast a glance at the centurion lying at their feet. "Whoever he was, at least he knew the value of this thing. Look, he even polished the stock and handguards regularly."

"Órale," Raul said with a nod, accepting the gun from the courier and feeling its weight. "Buen arma."

He made as if to snatch it away for his own, and the courier slapped his arm playfully. "Get your own, viejo."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Cass rolled her eyes. "Well, third time this month they've sent a squad after you. It's about time they tried sending one with a bit better gear than the last few."

"Here, try this on for size." The courier tossed her the gun and checked the centurion over for other finds.

Cass caught the rifle easily and checked the chamber. "I've seen guns like this before. What's so special about this one?"

The courier launched into a dramatic re-telling of the gun's history, and Cass sat herself down by the campfire again with a smile.

Veronica Santangelo: "Oh, oh I remember this," Veronica said excitedly, holding her power fist up in the air like she was waiting for the teacher to call on her. "World War II... Korea... something about the clip being French?"

"En bloc," the courier corrected her with a grin. "It just means it ejects after the last round and locks the bolt open for reloading."

"Yesssss." Veronica pumped her fist. "I've picked up more from you about weaponry than I ever did from Knight Torres. She was always more concerned with power armor than with guns."

ED-E: The eyebot excitedly zoomed around the courier, emitting lower-toned beeps that sounded like coos of admiration. When the courier held the gun up for it to better examine, ED-E turned on its internal radio and began playing "Big Iron" by Marty Robbins.

The courier laughed. "Sure is, ED-E. Sure is."

Rex: The cyberdog sniffed the rifle carefully and let out a low growl, indicating his dislike of the one who, until a few moments ago, had been carrying it.

The courier glanced at the dead centurion and nodded. "Guys with hats, yeah. Or helmets, I guess. I remember. Don't worry, give it some time and it won't smell like him anymore."

Rex barked in agreement.

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nightingaelic · 3 years ago

Note

Companions react to a Courier with the Eye for Eye perk just walking around with half their limbs broken because the pain is literally making them stronger.

TW: Blood, gore

The courier was nowhere to be found when their companion awoke beneath the soft firelight of the Dead Horses' torches and the bright eyes of the man who led them.

"I believe they've left us for the evening," the Burned Man said in his usual aloof tone, even as he reclined behind his workbench in Angel Cave. "I've never walked the path of a courier, but I imagine it transfers a certain restlessness to an individual. Staying in one place loses some of its charm. Your particular courier, however, lets that instinct drive them to the point of being foolhardy."

As if to prove Joshua Graham's speculation correct, the courier staggered into the cave, their clothes torn and bloodied. Despite sporting an obvious limp, an arm curled protectively against their chest and deep claw marks all over their face, they were shouldering a yao guai's severed head alongside their full traveling pack and wearing a wild smile.

Arcade Gannon: "God dammit." Arcade disentangled himself from his bed roll and rushed to the courier's side, ignoring Graham's obvious disapproval at his taking the Lord's name in vain. "I told you not to run off into the canyon without packing extra stimpaks. Here, let me-"

The courier stopped his fumbling hands with both of theirs. Arcade looked down in shock at the broken arm that was firmly grasping his fingers, then up into their frenzied eyes. "Six, you need-"

"I don't." The courier spat some blood out onto the dirt floor of the cave. "I don't. The Sorrows... White Bird..."

Arcade mentally cursed the tribe up the river, then just as quickly withdrew the malevolent thoughts. It wasn't their fault the courier went looking for injuries. "Datura root? Okay, sit down, over there. Take a load off."

The courier limped over to the chair Joshua Graham was offering. They sank into it with a sigh and let the yao guai head fall to the floor, where it began to bleed onto their boots. "Thanks," they said. "I should-"

Arcade stuck them in the arm with the stimpak he kept concealed for these occasions, and they screeched, loud enough to cause even the Malpais Legate to jump. "Fucking hell, Arcade! Not again!"

Craig Boone: Boone jumped to his feet. "I can't be your spotter if you keep leaving me behind, Six. Tell me you haven't been using that junk again."

In answer, the courier pulled an empty Sunset Sarsaparilla bottle rigged with a hose and tin foil from inside their pack and tossed it aside. "Last dose, I swear. Not that it helped much in close quarters."

They lifted the yao guai head high over their own, striking a victorious pose. "Shouldn't bother the Dead Horses or the Sorrows again, unless there really is a ghost out there."

Boone and Graham stared at the courier, particularly at their bent arm. "You require medical attention," Graham pointed out. "Shall I fetch the shaman?"

"No thank you." The courier made a face and heaved the animal's head across the room. It flew through the air in a nice arc, bounced twice, then rolled to a stop at the Burned Man's feet.

"Six..." Boone said testily.

The courier groaned, familiar with the serious tone. "Fine. But I've had worse scrapes, and you know it."

Lily Bowen: "Pumpkin!" Lily shrieked and rushed to the courier's side. Her hands flew up and around them, but every time she attempted to touch them she recoiled out of fear of causing pain. "Pumpkin, you need to see a doctor."

"We've been over this, Lily," the courier replied, attempting to skirt around the nightkin that blocked their way. "It hurts, but I work through it, and I always come out on top of whatever caused it."

"Sweetness, you're bleeding." Lily finally located a portion of the courier that wasn't in danger of extra bruising and took hold of them, sweeping them up into a gentle fireman's carry. "We'll go visit that nice Waking Cloud lady and get you fixed up."

"Lily, put me down!" The courier squirmed atop the super mutant. To the surprise of everyone involved, they managed to unbalance her enough to send both of them tumbling to the cave floor.

Joshua Graham looked down at the courier, who was wrestling for control of their leg in order to escape Lily's grasp. "God protect you," he said, but it wasn't clear who he was speaking to.

Raul Alfonso Tejada: "Mij@." Raul approached the courier carefully, trying to locate all of their new bumps and scrapes. He was more than familiar with their latest attempts to prove their own strength, but it pained him to see them like this. Still, he knew better than to try to force medicine into them, now. "Estoy aquí para ti. Can I help?"

They tensed for a moment, as he'd expected, but a few more soothing words sent their shoulders back down. "Sí. I'm... I'm tired."

Ignoring the Burned Man's protests, Raul claimed the room's chair and carried it over to them. They eased into it, wincing slightly but still clinging to their belongings. Raul convinced them to hand their weapons, pack and bear head over one by one, all the while assuring them that he meant no harm, no offense, no judgment.

"You can't keep doing this, Six," he said, when they finally let him inspect their broken arm. He could see the bone under the skin, out of place in an obvious way that would've had him laid up in bed for weeks.

"I can handle-"

"I know you can." Raul fixed them in his gaze. "I can't."

They smiled sadly. "Lo siento. I'll try to be more careful."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Cass rolled her eyes. "Figures. Waited until I was asleep, then you ran off to have all the fun on your lonesome. Let's get you cleaned up, Six."

She lunged for the courier, but despite their precarious state they managed to dodge her. "Uh-uh. I'm invincible. You're gonna ruin it."

"Invincible?" Cass dashed to block their escape. "Sure, you can probably still kick my ass, but you sure as hell can't outrun me."

"Might the pair of you take this little game outside," Graham grumbled from his seat.

"Shut it, Burnt Man," Cass shot back.

The courier couldn't help but giggle at that. "Burned. Burned Man."

"Oh, you're gonna give me grammar lessons?" Cass lunged again and managed to seize a handful of the courier's tattered coat. "Give them to me up close. I dare you."

In response, the courier grabbed Cass' arm with their broken one and easily flung her around them in a circle, until she went somersaulting away onto the ground. "There's lesson one."

Cass sat up and jammed her hat back on her head. "Fine. Damn."

Veronica Santangelo: "How are you walking?!?" Veronica stared, open-mouthed, at the bloody figure in the cave entrance.

The courier shrugged, then winced at their own movement. "Does it matter? I'm alive."

"Yeah, but life won't be much of a comfort if you don't get some of those fractures set right." Veronica rose from her bed roll and approached them carefully. Her eyes flickered from wound to wound, and she tutted as she drew back the loose pieces of fabric that the yao guai had ripped to shreds. "Get over here and make yourself useful, Graham. Six, you probably shouldn't be awake when I start putting you back together."

They withdrew their limp arm from her grasp firmly. "Leave it be. It gave me the energy I needed to finish the thing off."

"Adrenaline will do that," Veronica agreed. "But its shelf life is short. Pretty soon you're going to be wishing that bear took your head off. Graham, I meant what I said, go find me some boiled water and bandages or I'll personally deliver your location to Caesar myself."

"Caesar is well aware of my current whereabouts," Graham replied evenly. "You would do well to listen to the Scribe, courier."

"Both of you?" The courier deflated. "Fine. Just get me a drink before you start moving bones around."

ED-E: The eyebot beeped in an alarmed manner as the courier swayed on their feet. It swiveled its dome between the injured friend and the bandaged man, who caught the movement and shook his head. "While you were updating your programming, your master was testing the limits of their own abilities, robot. It is not my place to interfere."

ED-E made a flat blaaaaat sound at him that sounded scornful, and floated over to the courier's side. The courier laughed. "Don't worry about me, little guy. It takes more than one yao guai to ruin my day."

Rex: The scent of the yao guai's and the courier's blood filled Rex's nostrils, and he rose from his sleeping hollow with a whine, unsure. When the courier beckoned him, he trotted over and began licking their visible wounds, sparing a growl here and there for the yao guai head that hung on their back.

Graham regarded the cyberdog with something akin to affection. "He senses your pain, courier. You would do well to set him at ease."

"He's seen me closer to death than this," they replied, scratching the dog behind the ears with their good arm. "And if the White Legs hear about the courier who walks through broken bones, maybe they'll think twice about attacking the people I'm friends with."

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nightingaelic · 3 years ago

Note

New Vegas companions reacting to the courier being mildly deaf?

Upon first meeting the courier, most assumed they were shy. They didn't make eye contact often, they just stared intensely at your mouth, as if trying to physically catch the words that were said. They naturally talked with their hands when they answered questions, but their movements were too animated to be merely emphasis. Most curiously, they avoided talking to anyone who covered their head with a helmet, head wrap or bandanna, and if they absolutely had to, they constantly asked the person in question to repeat themselves. If they were lucky, the confused individual would write down what they were trying to say. If they weren't, the conversation ended prematurely and the courier's face held a look of utter frustration and disappointment for hours.

It wasn't until the third or fourth time the courier ran afoul of a New Vegas Strip Securitron that told them to get out its way that their companion pulled them aside.

Arcade Gannon: "You can't hear them, can you?" Arcade asked, pulling them back from the street where the contingent of House's robots was rolling by.

"I... a little bit," the courier protested, putting a hand to their left ear. "Mostly out of this side. It's been ringing a lot lately, though, and normally I can compensate by just watching their mouth, but with robots..."

Arcade nodded. "You can't lip-read a bot. Sure. Why haven't you gone to the Followers yet?"

"For what?"

"An implant." Arcade furrowed his brow. "Dr. Usanagi has to have something in stock, or she could call in some favors out west and get one sent here."

The courier's hand moved upward again, to the scar that graced their hairline. "I don't think..."

Arcade's eyes widened. "Oh. Sorry. Yeah, that might make things... difficult."

Craig Boone: "Keep your eyes up," Boone said gruffly, after the courier picked themselves up from where the Securitron had tossed them after they failed to move quickly enough.

"I can't have my eyes on everything and everyone inside the Strip," the courier grumbled. "It's not my fault. There's enough people here today to drown out the feel of robot wheels on asphalt. And where were you, spotter?"

Boone softened, but less than an inch. "It might not be your fault, but it won't matter if the thing you miss is the thing that does you and your partner in. Don't lose track of House's muscle when you're in New Vegas."

"I wish they had muscles," the courier groaned. "Specifically facial muscles. It'd make things a whole lot easier."

"Let's do our business and get out of town quickly," Boone answered, giving everyone in the near vicinity a look of distrust. "Too many people means too many opportunities to miss something important."

Lily Bowen: "Is your hearing going, dearie?" Lily asked, clearly concerned at the prospect. "Grandma was lucky enough to keep hers, but plenty of her friends' hearing started to go after turning 60."

"I'm fine," the courier insisted, brushing their coat off. "It's nothing I can't handle or work around."

Lily thought for a minute as they removed the rest of the dust from their outfit. "You know, pumpkin, it's okay to need help sometimes."

The courier gave her a sour look. "Not in the Mojave, it's not."

"Even in the Mojave," Lily chided. "Some people are big and strong, like Grandma. Others are small and sneaky. Some people can't see, or can't walk, and some people can't eat or drink or go to the bathroom without help. Some people can't hear."

"Lily..."

"Listen to your grandma." Lily patted their head. "Some people need help, and they deserve it. Let Grandma help you watch out for robots, next time."

The courier sighed and looked up at her sadly. "Okay. But... you should think about taking your own advice, Lily."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: "Earth to Courier Six," Raul said with a chuckle. "Mr. House's minions don't have time to scoop you onto the sidewalk every time they roll through, you know."

The courier rolled their eyes and retrieved their pack from where it had fallen. "Chingate. And I don't have time to move out of the way whenever they need to break up a fight in Gomorrah."

Raul examined his fingers with mock interest. "Shame they don't speak the bridge talk you do. I don't know if their pequeñas garras could manage it, though."

The courier's eyes widened, and a smile grew beneath them. "Bridge talk? Never heard it called that, before."

"Eh, lingua franca, common-speak, whatever it's going by now." Raul waved his hand, then shot out a few quick signs: "man," "woman," "eat". "Don't know much of it myself, but I know it when I see it. Used to belong to the Plains tribes alone, and now it's everywhere."

"Everywhere except the Mojave." The courier made a face. "Why is that?"

Raul shrugged. "Who knows. Maybe they all got sick of being tossed around by robots, too."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Cass let go of the courier briefly to bang a fist on the side of the nearest departing Securitron. "Assholes! House can afford to be late!"

She grabbed the courier again and ducked behind a pack of tourists before the Securitron could pinpoint her. "Six, you have to stick by me," she insisted. "I know you're only firing on one cylinder in the sound department."

"I am fine," the courier insisted, wiggling out of her grasp.

"You are not." Cass seized them again. "I've known plenty of NCR vets who were discharged with heads full of nightmares, missing limbs and a lifelong case of tinnitus or no hearing at all. By my guess, you're somewhere in the middle of those last two, and I'll be damned if you get done in by a robotic security team after you had the gall to crawl out of your own grave and kick the leader of the Chairmen's ass."

"Well what do you want me to do, Cass?" the courier protested, their hands flying with the emotion. "No one here understands. Everyone else in the Mojave with hearing problems is too poor to wander around the Strip, or too dead to care!"

Instead of responding, Cass watched their fingers, making shapes. Shapes she'd seen before. Something clicked, and she reached out to grab their hands. "Plains talk," she said breathlessly.

"What?"

"Plains talk!" Cass was grinning. "My mom knew it. God, I'm stupid."

Veronica Santangelo: Rather than chastise the courier, Veronica watched them pick themselves up and make a series of angry motions with their hands toward the departing robots.

"You're talking," she said with wonder, when they finally turned back to her.

"Huh?"

"With your hands." Veronica imitated the last sign they'd made. "What does it mean?"

The courier blushed. "Um. Maybe don't make that sign in public, unless you're really, really angry at someone."

"Starting with swear words, as you always should when learning a new language," Veronica replied brightly. "Why don't you just use the sign language more?"

"Because, Veronica, people here don't speak it." The courier sighed. "You get English, Spanish, some tribal languages, but I've only met two people who knew the signs I know. I'm still not sure where it comes from. After I woke up in Doc Mitchell's office, I thought I was crazy for a bit. Like I had this whole, made-up language in my head that no one else could speak."

Veronica put a hand on their shoulder and squeezed it. "Teach me. We'll speak it together."

ED-E: ED-E had learned early on that beeping was no use with the courier, so it did the next best thing it could and gently bounced its dome off their shoulder and arms, tilting its speaker toward them with concern.

The courier, eyes brimming with tears, grabbed the eyebot in both hands and pressed their forehead to it, as if holding the face of a loved one. "I wish I wasn't like this," they muttered.

ED-E held still until their pain had subsided, and it floated close behind them when they arose and moved on.

Rex: Rex barked his anger at the departing Securitrons, then turned to look up at the courier and whine.

They ruffled the fur on his neck and crouched down to put their arms around him. "It's okay, buddy. You can't warn me every time someone big comes up behind me. Thanks for watching my back."

#fallout #fallout new vegas #fnv #fallout new vegas companions react #fallout new vegas companions #arcade gannon #arcade israel gannon #craig boone #lily bowen #raul tejada #raul alfonso tejada #rose of sharon cassidy #cassidy #veronica santangelo #ed-e #rex #deafness

124 notes · View notes

nightingaelic · 3 years ago

Note

Fallout New Vegas companions react to taking the Courier's place in Dead Money.

Arcade Gannon: Following the obligatory panic attack and subsequent state of dejection, Arcade would suck it up and start trying to get the heist done with as quickly as possible. He’d roll his eyes at Dean Domino, set aside Dog and God’s identity crisis for later and check Christine over for basic first aid purposes before trudging along toward the various goals set by Elijah. I think he’d opt for stealth over combat when encountering the ghost people out of a sense of self-preservation, but he would probably pocket some clothing and blood samples from any that Dog took down along the way to the casino. The story of the Sierra Madre would fascinate him, particularly the bits and pieces left behind by jaded treasure hunters and Elijah’s previous teams of victims. Arcade would see it as a microcosm of what’s happening in the wider world, a stellar example of partners turning on each other in pursuit of some perceived bright future attached to the hidden treasures of the old world. Vera’s desperate graffiti in her hotel room would speak to him most powerfully: LET GO. He would probably try to argue with Elijah about the viability of the former Brotherhood Elder’s plans, throwing some Latin phrasing in for good measure. No matter his level of success in this, Arcade would stow away as many gold bars as he could to lug home and use to sparingly and anonymously fund the efforts of the Followers of the Apocalypse.

Craig Boone: During his first encounter with one of the ghost people popping up again after being downed by his sniper rifle, Boone would grunt in annoyance, swap his ammo for hollow points and switch from aiming at chests to aiming at heads. Ghost people bob and weave admirably, but Boone has a gift, and up until he actually got inside the casino, his main obstacle would be avoiding the noxious cloud. The holograms, on the other hand, would probably strike some fear into his heart. After all, how do you destroy something that bullets can’t touch? I don’t think he would put two and two together about the emitters until Christine or Dean pointed them out: From there, it just becomes a scavenger hunt to find the next piece of wall-mounted tech to shoot. Dean, Dog and God would annoy him, but he’d find a kindred spirit in Christine, and would appreciate her ability to convey meaning without words. Hell, he’s pretty good at that himself. Upon finding Elijah, Boone would immediately put a bullet in his head, look at the pile of gold for a few seconds, then walk away and out of the Sierra Madre without looking back. He’d never breathe a word of the place to anyone, but he’d track down all of the Sierra Madre broadcast systems one by one and destroy them, letting the desert swallow the place and its dangers for good.

Lily Bowen: Grandma Lily wouldn’t understand why the angry man was so desperate to get inside the casino, but she’s more than familiar with being a forced follower of doomed causes. As such, she would be kind to her fellow captives, assuring Christine that she would be able to talk “when she’s ready,” admonishing Dean for his rude behavior and telling Elijah that he would catch more cazadores with honey mesquite than with vinegar. A trail of wrecked ghost people would follow her to the casino itself, but dealing with the holograms would be beyond her expertise: That part would have to be left to Christine or Dean. Elijah would receive a lecture once she made it into the vault, but she would probably let him live unless he attacked first. Dog and God, however, would earn the most care and compassion and even cause some introspection. Ultimately, I think she would help the two become one through intense conversation and shared understanding about what it means to be nightkin with no master, and once freed, she would take him to find a home in Jacobstown.

Raul Alfonso Tejada: Upon waking up from being kidnapped by Dog on Elijah's behalf, Raul's immediate reaction would be something like "Again?" followed by "Carajo." Elijah’s insistence on pulling off the heist would annoy him, but Raul is constantly looking for something to occupy his unnaturally-long time on earth, and what is the Sierra Madre if not the Mojave’s most deadly time-waster? He would be sarcastic and exasperated for his entire time wearing the bomb collar, but would find ways to be tender and understanding with Christine, and patient and supportive with Dog and God - after all, he knows what it’s like to struggle with two sides of yourself. Dean, on the other hand, would vex him. Here’s another pre-war ghoul hung up on the promises and mistakes of the past, driven to the point of obsession where he can’t break himself out of the cycle. He can’t let go, and I think that doomed state of being would speak to Raul personally. I don’t think he and Dean would get along, but I don’t think they would have a final showdown in the Tampico either. Instead, I think Dean would watch Raul exit the vault’s elevator, flip one souvenir gold bar in his hand with a wry smile, then pocket it before walking out into the wastes, and the pre-war lounge singer would feel a twinge of kindred sadness before going back to rummaging through the casino’s secrets.

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Following a tense standoff with Elijah while refusing to do as he says, Cass would eventually relent and start dragging her feet around the villa to assemble the ragtag heist crew. She’d hold each of them at a distance, intent on getting herself out alive and refusing to be responsible for anyone else. Nods of sympathy for Christine, dry comebacks for Dean and a quizzical comment or two for Dog and God would be her limit, at least until they all encountered their turning points inside the casino. Each of them would grow her disdain for Elijah and his methods, but, like Raul, I think she would be most personally affected by Dean’s story. She might find herself arguing with him like the courier did with her, about moving on from failed pasts and striking out into something new. I don’t think she’d take the time to argue with Elijah, though, and would take the first chance she got to lock him in the vault forever. She’d make off with as much gold as she could, of course.

Veronica Santangelo: The Sierra Madre would make Veronica's head explode, though whether or not Elijah could stand her mouth going a million miles a minute once she wakes up would determine whether that would happen literally or figuratively. Tons and tons of pre-war tech lying around! But it's all under a haze of collapsed support beams, toxic gas and ghost people that can jump around like grasshoppers. Father Elijah is alive! But he's trying to break into a casino to build an army of holograms, and he imprisoned Christine. Christine is here! But she's been maimed and abused horribly, and is trying to kill Elijah. I think Elijah would try reasoning with Veronica before threatening her into obeying him - though she would probably figure out how to get the collar off or render it useless within the first 24 hours in the Sierra Madre - but I don’t think he would be able to convince her that his plan to get inside the casino’s vault would benefit the Brotherhood of Steel. The revelations that Christine would bring - the Circle of Steel’s orders, Elijah’s crimes against travelers and treasure hunters, his orchestration of their breakup in order to bring Veronica to the Mojave with him - would probably leave her feeling confused and empty about the man she considers a grandfather figure. She would probably do her best to free Elijah from the casino, but would offer him a choice if she succeeded: Leave the treasures of the Sierra Madre behind and walk away from his accursed quest for power, or remain trapped with what he’d sought. Whatever path he’d choose, Veronica would part ways with him once the vault’s elevator ascended. She’d bundle up Vera’s dress, sigh heavily, then take Christine’s hand and walk away from the Sierra Madre forever.

ED-E: Ironically, I think ED-E would be a good pick for Elijah to use as a pawn in his heist game, though it would be kind of hard for Dog to hook a collar onto the little robot. If Ulysses can speak to the courier through an eyebot’s speakers, then Elijah can probably do the same to his already-assembled team. ED-E doesn’t have a whole lot of personal motivation, so I think the bot would just beep and go along with whatever it was ordered to do. Christine or Dean would probably take the lead, and ED-E would zoom around the villa, dodging throwing knife spears and trumpeting his location without a care. Once inside the casino, ED-E would again defer to his leader’s orders, with the added benefit of being a robot keeping him from the holograms’ notice. If allowed into the vault, ED-E would diligently pick up exactly six of the gold bars and carry them home to the Mojave, where he would deposit them at the bewildered courier’s feet with a triumphant beep.

Rex: While much easier to slap a collar on than ED-E, I don't think Rex would fare better than the little robot in terms of leadership abilities. As an ally to whoever gets put in charge, though, he would also be invaluable at sneaking around the Sierra Madre’s various threats, particularly the ghost people. He would take a special shine to Christine and God, who would recognize the canine as a fellow being exploited by powers out of his control. Rex would absolutely hate the holograms, who smell of nothing, and Elijah, who smells of desperation and indifference. He would completely ignore the gold bars. Once freed, he would whine and beg and nudge Christine until she relented and left the city of the dead, leading her home to the New Vegas strip and another woman whose scent told him of metal bunkers and longing.

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what-inthe-goddamn · 5 years ago

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Is the askbox open again? How about NV companions react to Six bringing home a bunch of adopted baby dragons? And not just like a mutated deathclaw, but an actual, fire-breathing, Tolkien-style (or Skyrim-style, or Dragon Age-style), baby dragons. Like, 10 of them. All following Sole like imprinted ducklings, in a neat line (like what you’d expect from a particularly well-behaved kindergarten class following their teacher). And all of them are very protective of “mom.”

Arcade Gannon: No matter how many times he tried to cleanany smudges or dirt off of his glasses, the little tiny reptiles didn’t go awaywhen he put them back on. This is real. He just stood there in disbelief. “Whereveryou found those, take them back. Now.” Six proclaimed they can’t, showing himhow the little dragons followed them for every footstep, their little eyesstaring up at Six for guidance. “What do they even eat?!” Six shrugged, “Guesswe’ll find out.” Arcade sighed. A little dragon crawled over to him, nuzzlinghis foot. Okay. They’re kind of cute. He guesses it wouldn’t hurt to keep them.

Craig Boone: What the hell had his life come to? The courierwas strange enough (in a good way), but this was something he wasn’t prepared for.Ten tiny creatures with wings were hiding behind Six’s leg as they explainedthe situation. He took a long sigh, giving in. As if he could say no to Six andthe ten pairs of beady eyes looking at him. They were cute, in a weird way.

ED-E: The small reptiles weren’t recognizable in ED-E’smemory. A couple had drifted up towards ED-E for a split second before fallingback to the ground. They were fascinated with the small dragons, and thedragons were too towards ED-E.

Lily Bowen: She almost squealed when she saw the littledragons in tow after Six. The Courier scooped up one of the babies and placed itin her arms, which she swaddled and cooed at. “Are we keeping them, dearie?”Lily was delighted when Six gave her a nod of approval. She named almost halfof them after her past pets. The little ones loved to perch on her shoulders asshe walked around.

Raul Tejada: Raul completely mistook them for deathclaws ata distant. He crossed his arms as Six made their way with the creatures to theLucky 38’s doors. “I fine with dogs, geckos, or even brahmin being brought here.But deathclaws are not something we agreed to!” “But they’re not deathclaws. They’redragons!” One baby dragon fluttered up to him. Raul ducked. “That doesn’t makeit any better!” he wouldn’t go within 20 feet of them for the first few days infear of being bitten or burned. But the dragons eventually claimed him as they’regrandpa, cooing at him for treats and pets. He had to give in. The littlebuggers were actually sweet.

Rex: If anything, Rex was jealous about all the attentionthe baby dragons were getting. They swarmed Six, brushing against their legsand flying into their arms. It was like Six had forgotten about Rex when theygot home. The little dragons would eventually grow on him. Soon Rex saw himselfas an older brother to them.

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: She stopped Six before they couldeven speak. “I know what you’re going to say. We can keep them. Whatever thehell they are…” At first, she’d be indifferent in giving them attention. Butone imprinted on her not even a day after. And oh boy, was it hard to not love thelittle thing. It was kind of like having dogs. Scaly, flying, fire-breathingdogs.

Veronica Santangelo: She so wish she had a camera right now.The sight of the tiny dragons following Six in a neat line was priceless. “Pleeeaasseeetell me we’re keeping them!” Soon the dragons would start following her too. Veronica became the co parent for them. She’dfeed them snacks and teach them commands; sitting, speaking, and of course,flying tricks. Her favorite one was catch; the little dragons would alwayscatch the ball before it hit the ground.

#fallout new vegas #fallout new vegas companions #fallout new vegas companions react #companions react #comapnion reactions #my post #fallout #arcade gannon #craig boone #cass #rose of sharon cassidy #ed-e #ed e #lily bowen #raul tejada #rex #veronica santangelo

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