Mercenary. Hitman. Escape Artist.

mydarlinghart:

She had been on stage for the past couple of hours, taking short breaks now and then to drink some water and socialize with the patrons. During one of her last songs she had noticed a young man mouthing the words along with her as she sang, which had brought a small smile to her face when she first noticed it.

Once she had cleared the stage and gathered her belongings, she asked Charlie for a refill of her water, to which the robot obliged. Spotting the same man from before sitting by himself, she sauntered over, her coat draped over her arm and the glass in her hand.

“Did you enjoy the show?” she asked, a soft smile on her face, a hand resting on the back of a chair next to him as if asking to take a seat.

Fox enjoyed the music of the Third Rail, it was honestly his favorite thing about the place since Charlie served such terrible beer. He had been listening to the singer for the last forty minutes or so, occasionally catching a song that he recognized, and singing along under his breath. Sitting by himself, as he often did, Fox hadn’t expected for anyone to disturb his thoughts, much less Triss, so his eyebrows shot up as he spotted the woman who had spoken up next to him.

“As usual,” he said, then, gestured to the seat. “Please.” He rolled his shoulders a bit, shifting in his seat to face her conversationally. “Never tell Magnolia I said this, but I think you might be a better singer.”

#mydarlinghart

A Disconcerting Still (Drabble)

A resounding knock at the door drew Fox out of the sleep that had been slowly beginning to overtake him. The mercenary sat up, blinking a few times to clear the blur from his eyes, before swinging his legs over the side of the bed to stand. His hand went to the pistol on his nightstand, flipping the safety off and letting the firearm hang by his side as he took a few steps towards the door.

“Hello?” he called out towards the door. From the light of the hallway slipping in underneath the door, two shadows stretched from where someone stood.

“Mr. Fox, I have a message for you from Mr. Notts,” a slightly accented voice replied. Fox tensed, the pistol coming to both hands as it was raised halfway towards the door. “I understand that you may not have been intentionally involved in Marowski’s plan,” the voice continued, “and our rash actions against you in Diamond City were a mistake. Mr. Notts wishes to speak with you, and settle the matter civilly.”

“Let me guess,” Fox said flatly, “He wants me to go down to that damn vault to talk to him.”

“No,” the voice answered, without missing a beat. “He will be at the back room of the Third Rail mid-morning tomorrow.”

“You want me to come unarmed?”

“Come how you will. This is Hancock’s town, and we all know how to behave ourselves, Mr. Fox. Good evening.” The shadows under the door shifted, and the echo of footsteps faded down the hallway.

After a moment of still, Fox returned to his bed, placing the gun carefully down, and laying down. With his mind racing, sleep didn’t come easily, but it did eventually come.

Ashes in the Man

flickeringxembers:

It was interesting watching the waves of expressions wash over Fox’s face as he began to succumb to all the alcohol he had consumed, along with whatever else was mixed into those spirits of questionable origin. Someone else might have pitied him, sympathized with whatever emotion he might have been trying to drown with booze, but not Fahrenheit. If she bled her heart for every junky and drunk in town, there would be nothing left. She certainly wasn’t the reason he was sloppy drunk and she wasn’t the person who would be dealing with whatever ailments may plague him hours from now. Those were his personal problems, thank goodness.

But there was a small token of concern offered from her, he did look a bit unstable when it came to his balance. “Are you okay to walk by yourself?” she asked carefully. “Don’t want you starting a fight with a table, that would be a shameful way to end the night.” Spoken slightly in jest, but it was an honest offer for assistance- wasn’t the first time she had helped someone of his size and probably not the last.

But she made no move to hop down from her seat, not until she got some sort of confirmation first.

The offer caused Fox to pause, some part of him testing his own ability to move. He was wobbly, for sure, but there was enough around between the bar and his room that he would likely be able to make it. And as surely as he didn’t want to have to be helped to his room, he was sure that Fahren didn’t actually want to have to help.

A small, dismissive wave was given as Fox turned to continue towards the stairs. “I can manage,” he said quietly, beginning to stagger away.

Others In the Business (Fox/Rori)

thawedwonder:

Rori laughed at his comment, and shook her head, taking a quick sip of her soda before she set it down.

“I didn’t forget, you just weren’t here waiting when I got back. It was heartbreaking, you know, getting stood up like that,” she replied, pulling her very best heartbroken expression, putting a hand to her chest for added drama. She sniffed tearfully and gave it just enough time for him to really appreciate the effort she put into the act before she snapped back to normal, relaxing against the back of the couch and smiling.

“No, I’ve just been busy. It’s amazing what happens when you feed some assholes their own teeth. People start asking you to do the same to other assholes. Most people even offer to pay you,” she explained, looking at him as if she were genuinely surprised at the notion.

“What about you? Haven’t seen you around as of late. Get caught up in some grand adventure?”

“Aw,” he said, tilting his head a bit at the mock tearful look. “You know I wouldn’t have stood you up without good reason.” Still, he listened, giving a nod at her explanation. That was usually how it went. You took on a few people, and when word got out you were good at it, more work came. The caps came flying in, but so did the bullets.

To her question, he gave a somewhat tired hum as he settled back against the couch. “No grand adventures, unfortunately,” Fox admitted. “Just some assholes trying to feed me my teeth. With bullets.” He gave a small, ‘what can ya do’ shrug before continuing. “I’ve been staying over in Goodneighbor for a while. Easier to get information over there.”

#thawedwonder

Ashes in the Man

flickeringxembers:

Briefly, a confused look crossed her face at his statement made to contradict her own, but it was mildly sarcastic in its animation. Was that a compliment and a mild insult all in one? Or maybe Fox just had too much to drink, she really wasn’t paying attention but Charlie had been replacing those empty glasses with a purpose- which was probably to hike up Fox’s tab.

Listening to his dreary extrapolation, Fahren’s face settled into a slight frown. While the people of Goodneighbor had a motto of minding one’s own business, that didn’t mean people wouldn’t judge each other, and perhaps Fahrenheit was the most judgmental of them all; quietly she watched Fox reach for his drink, another of many he had already inhaled and wondered silently what might drive him to drink so frivolously… Other than getting wrecked by a courser, of course. Surely, that couldn’t be the only reason?

“Fox,” she began, her voice not dropping whatever humor it may have been laced with moments before, “Unless you double-cross Hancock somehow, I have no reason to shoot you in the back. I hope you know that now.” Then she shifted on her stood and dropped her hands into her lap.

“I have some knowledge,” she finally admitted, “But I’m usually on my own out in the field. I was coupled up with a soldier a while ago, but we ran through some drills together so we were on the same page. Maybe we should do the same, to ease your mind.”

Then she quickly added, “You know, when you’re not drunk and toting an attitude.”

Having his head in his hand, weariness crashed down on him like a wave. Lack of sleep, his injuries, and the amount of alcohol he had consumed all fought to try to make him the most miserable, and the mercenary closed his eyes briefly, face contorting with frustration as he rubbed the bridge of his nose with two fingers.

“I know,” he responded to her first statement, a tired defeat edging into his voice. “I’ve...” He trailed off, sighing and opening his eyes again. “I’ve been dealing with Marowski and his ilk too much.” The practiced stoic look had collapsed, and Fox simply appeared... exhausted. Drunk, and utterly exhausted.

“It’s a good plan,” he admitted, slumping slightly as his chin rested in the comfort of his palm. “Just... not tomorrow.” The amber liquid in the glass sloshed as Fox pushed it away from him. He sat up, wobbling ever so slightly as he did so, and placed his hand on the bar as if to push himself to stand. He stopped, though, staring at the bar distractedly for a moment before looking at Fahren.

“.... Sorry,” he muttered to her, her last addition processing, then pushed himself up to stand. “I’ll be back to my normal... peachy self. After sleep. A lot of sleep.”

Ashes in the Man

flickeringxembers:

If there was ever a time to roll her eyes it was probably now, and she did so as she took a small puff from her cigarette and moved to smother it into the tray on the counter. With terrible jokes aside, at her expense, it was time for an impromptu quiz? Well, this should be interesting, she thought. As she leaned an elbow against the counter top, she gave her lips a small thoughtful lick before they drew a modest smile.

“I work with thugs,” she admitted plainly. Then she rather leisurely crossed a leg over the other. “And I’m just a little guard dog- I’m not a soldier.” An admission that she honestly didn’t know much with regard to tactical procedure, or maybe she was just bullshitting and playing dumb? She certainly couldn’t be shy, not behind those eyes.

“Teach me a lesson, Sir.”

The unimpressed look that Fox gave her was interrupted only by him turning to down his whiskey in a shot, pushing the glass out of the way as his attention settled back on the woman. “Please,” he said dryly, not seeming to buy the presented modesty, “you’re the big guard dog in charge of a bunch of little guard dogs and you’re smarter than most of the soldiers I’ve ever known.” There was a slight pause. “And before you go taking that as a compliment, you should know they don’t set a very high bar.”

He propped the side of his face in his less-injured hand, more out of a sense of weariness than of leisure, as the warmth of the whiskey made its way to his stomach and through his blood. “You’re working with me, at least until John says otherwise or you shoot me in the back. And even if I’m a thug, I’m a picky thug. I wouldn’t risk my ass going along with someone who could only tell me they’re moving up to cover by yelling.” He gave a vague shrug, mostly with his free hand. “I just need to know where you stand, if you have your own system or what.” A noise to his right drew his attention, and he glanced down to see another glass of whiskey sitting where his empty glass had been, and Charlie merrily floating away. He hadn’t ordered another drink... but what the hell.

“Also, please, for God’s sake, don’t call me ‘Sir’,” he groaned as he slid the glass in towards him a bit. “You’ll just bring up more memories I’ll have to drink down.”

Ashes in the Man

flickeringxembers:

As she lifted her hand to deposit the ashes of her cigarette into that nearby ashtray, she offered Fox a nod of surprise with her brow. It was an amused gesture, animated with a hint of sarcasm, the tone her in her voice really drove it home.

“Oh,” she gently hummed, “He has an ego- what a surprise.” When it came to smiles, Fahren wasn’t necessarily reserved, it’s just they seemed to appear at moments which made them look disingenuous, or at least antagonizing. Now was probably one of those times. Surely she meant well, even with the dry humor and mild heckling.

“Now, if only you could turn that attitude into ammunition, you’d be set- now wouldn’t you?” she then added. “Maybe you should work on that, put yourself to good use.”

“Ego?” he said, raising a brow briefly at her. “No, no, that’s just the whiskey talking.” He raised the glass a bit before taking a sip and setting it back down. “That black-coat-wearing bastard took a nice chunk out of my ego before he fried.” He let out a mock sad sniff. “I’ll have to cry myself to sleep tonight.” The bitterly gruff tone never left his voice, though the sniff and the flash of an overplayed sad expression made his jesting clear.

As his face settled back into its normal, stony expression, he shook his head. “Besides, I use ammunition, I don’t make it.” Fox spared a questioning glance over towards her. “What, you need more feed for that bullet hose of yours?” He had his glass half-raised to take a sip, but paused for a couple moments, and quickly put it back down, making a clunk as it hit the bar. “Alright, you want me to be useful?” He said, propping an elbow on the bar to pivot towards Fahrenheit. “I’ll be useful. What combat hand signals do you know?”

Ashes in the Man

flickeringxembers:

That sharp gaze prompted her to turn to face him, interested in reading the remainder of that reaction. She squinted in just the slightest as she wondered if maybe he took some offense to the question, if he did Fox was quite reserved with regard to expressing anything. Good, she thought, the last thing she needed was working with someone who couldn’t control their emotions…

As she took another puff from her cigarette she listened to his humble defeated admission. Her eyes also drifted to look down at his hands where she now got a better look at the bandaging. Then she let out a small, thoughtful hum.

“Burns take a while to heal,” she stated, a wary inflection in her words. “From my experience, alcohol doesn’t help much,” she added as a faint smirk brushed across her lips. “If you need to ask for time to get over that, there’s no shame in talking to Hancock about it- Unless you think your injuries don’t compromise you at all.”

It almost sounded like a round about way of questioning his current level of aptitude, until she plainly said- “I mean, if your hands don’t work what use are you then?” She may have almost laughed, there was a glint of such mischief in her eyes, but instead she brought the cigarette to her lips for another drag.

“Alcohol helps everything,” Fox muttered, eyes focused on Charlie for the moment as the bot slid another glass in front of him. He took the glass immediately, sliding it along the bartop to rest directly in front of him. Still, he let it sit there, not practically chugging it like he had his first of the night. A near-silent sigh left him as he stared at the glass, listening to Fahren.

The seemingly implied question, not to mention the blatant statement, nearly brought the mercenary to glare at her again, but as he looked up, he caught the look in her eye. An amused huff escaped Fox as he turned back towards his drink, swirling the glass in a circle briefly as he fought against the small smile that threatened to show itself.

“Have you seen the raiders and mercs around here?” he asked, voice no less gruff for the amused twitch at the corner of his mouth. He turned his head to look at her. “You really think I need my hands?”

Double Team (Fox, Skye)

sugardollcrash:

Huh, someone that actually agreed with her for once? That was a pleasant surprise. Hearing his suggestion, she nodded slowly in consideration. She always did like utilizing the element of surprise. Maybe he wouldn’t be a complete pain to work with after all, but she didn’t hold onto much hope there; most people found a way to be disappointing one way or another.

“Good thinking,” she replied quietly, considering their options. “If we can get one, I don’t mind taking it. That way I can keep the dog on guard inside, just in case anyone tries to run off.” Besides, she didn’t want Lollipop in the middle of a heavy firefight when she could be useful and safer elsewhere. “Consider it a back-up, possible third angle, I guess."

I don't mind taking it. The attack position that supplied the element of surprise, and didn't require drawing fire for distraction wasn't one he minded taking either. Yeah, it was a huge favor she was doing, offering to take that job. Still, it would only feed the tension and distrust to argue. Fox was certain that he could handle the frontal assault, even against whatever half-assed mercs the dealers had likely picked up to defend them. It wasn't his favorite approach, certainly, but he had done it before, and he could do it again.

“Deal,” he said, giving a quick nod. “Once we have an idea of an alternate entrance, if they hired on extra guns, and how many there are, I’ll get started.” He reached behind him, unhooking a frag grenade from the harness under his coat, and showed it to Skye. “This will be the signal. And hopefully will take a few of them with it.”

#sugardollcrash

I’m Honored, Mr. Mayor (Hancock/Fox)