trying on a metaphor
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@catmanradio
Swung and missed I put my heart in this Mythical, holy, good guy I want so bad to be But I was weak and wrong
@standingxbear / @courier2lw / @yourxlongxlostxpal
@catmanradio / @atomcatbluejay / @dimasexual
Indie Fallout canon and OC characters, penned by Lara
scavenge run | open rp
It was just a scavenge run. He had done this before, many times. He was always careful. Cary lived alone, so going out was always a risk. But he traveled far enough away from the house for that to not become a target. The worst, by far, were rust devils. Crazy ass raiders with demonic frenzied robots. Cary had to appreciate the ingenuity, but going against these guys was a death trap. So Cary had decided to just move on… had one of them not spotted him first. He fought as much as he could, grenades took out half the party, his rifle did some good damage, but it wasn’t enough. Pretty soon he was bleeding and unconscious, the rust devils left going through his thing, trusting him to bleed out and die.
Kelpie watched from a distance, Contemplating what she should do. She'd seen this gang before, out in the distance. But she'd yet to attempt to actually face them. So, she decided to wait. Watching them from afar. But staying just out of sight from them.
Once they had left, Kelpie walked over to the man. Planning on scavenging whatever they had decided wasn't worth taking with them. They began poking him with the butt of their trident, checking to see if he was still alive.
He was still breathing, though blood pooled under him with a little more fervor at the poke of her weapon at his side. The stats on his beat up, ancient modeled Pip Boy blinked, indicating his torso was badly damaged, as was obvious by the amount of blood directly under him. If she were to turn him over, she'd find his chest buzz-sawed from one side to the other.
His pack was open and strewn about, the belonging the horrific rust devils hadn't taken littered the ground around them. Piece of Frankenstein'ed robots were sparking or squirming, metal parts still carrying some electrical current.
"Hmph, still alive." Kelpie walked over and went to grab for his bag, when she stopped. She learned time and time again you can't trust people out in the wasteland. The odds of him stabbing her in the back were just as likely as him thanking her.
But she wasn't that familiar with the commonwealth. Having someone in her debt that knew the lay of the land may help. They sigh and shook their head. "Don't make me regret this." They pulled out a stimpak and injected it into him while keeping their trident close. Just incase he wasn't thankful.
Cary grunted feeling the stab of the stimpak, and it was another few moments before he pushed himself off the ground, taking off his glasses and cleaning them as best he could. He looked to Kelpie, the strangeness of them… Then the oddness of her weapon.
“What are you suppose to be?” He asked, not so much as a thank you. But his weapons were gone. Fuck. And they held his bag. He could be a little sour at loosing so much. And being at the mercy of a person who held something he’d only ever seen in a book on Greek myths.
scavenge run | open rp
It was just a scavenge run. He had done this before, many times. He was always careful. Cary lived alone, so going out was always a risk. But he traveled far enough away from the house for that to not become a target. The worst, by far, were rust devils. Crazy ass raiders with demonic frenzied robots. Cary had to appreciate the ingenuity, but going against these guys was a death trap. So Cary had decided to just move on… had one of them not spotted him first. He fought as much as he could, grenades took out half the party, his rifle did some good damage, but it wasn’t enough. Pretty soon he was bleeding and unconscious, the rust devils left going through his thing, trusting him to bleed out and die.
Kelpie watched from a distance, Contemplating what she should do. She'd seen this gang before, out in the distance. But she'd yet to attempt to actually face them. So, she decided to wait. Watching them from afar. But staying just out of sight from them.
Once they had left, Kelpie walked over to the man. Planning on scavenging whatever they had decided wasn't worth taking with them. They began poking him with the butt of their trident, checking to see if he was still alive.
He was still breathing, though blood pooled under him with a little more fervor at the poke of her weapon at his side. The stats on his beat up, ancient modeled Pip Boy blinked, indicating his torso was badly damaged, as was obvious by the amount of blood directly under him. If she were to turn him over, she'd find his chest buzz-sawed from one side to the other.
His pack was open and strewn about, the belonging the horrific rust devils hadn't taken littered the ground around them. Piece of Frankenstein'ed robots were sparking or squirming, metal parts still carrying some electrical current.
scavenge run | open rp
It was just a scavenge run. He had done this before, many times. He was always careful. Cary lived alone, so going out was always a risk. But he traveled far enough away from the house for that to not become a target. The worst, by far, were rust devils. Crazy ass raiders with demonic frenzied robots. Cary had to appreciate the ingenuity, but going against these guys was a death trap. So Cary had decided to just move on… had one of them not spotted him first. He fought as much as he could, grenades took out half the party, his rifle did some good damage, but it wasn’t enough. Pretty soon he was bleeding and unconscious, the rust devils left going through his thing, trusting him to bleed out and die.
red mackerel tabby
Columbo Sentences, Vol. 1
(Sentences from Columbo (1968-2003). Adjust phrasing where needed)
"Oh, you're not intimidated, are you?"
"To think I had to talk you into this trip!"
"Who is it this week? The blonde or the redhead?"
"You know, there's only one thing that I'm not clear about…"
"You must have a devious mind!"
"You're making me nervous! That's quite a stare!"
"I know, I know - I'm making a pest of myself."
"I called last night to tell you I was coming, but there was no one home."
"That's pure guesswork, isn't it?"
"You have nothing to worry about. This is a clean bill of health."
"I'm not in the habit of making mistakes."
"I don't know which I feel most: relief or anger."
"I thought you knew everything?"
"I've been walking on the beach for hours, thinking."
"Are you a member of the club?"
"Isn't that such a coincidence? I'll tell you, this case is just full of them!"
"You have a marvellously convoluted mind!"
"The trouble with your theory is, not only is it very tenuous, but it's impossible to prove."
"If you come and work for me, I'm almost positive I can triple your yearly income."
"I guess we've both got a lot of paperwork to do, eh?"
"You sure don't look like a policeman."
"I don't care what I said before. I was wrong. Can't a person make a mistake?"
"All that concern about clothes - it's kind of vain, don't you think?"
"Some men do not want to look like an unmade bed!"
"Pull yourself together! There's no reason to be frightened!"
"The invitation said free champagne!"
"Haven't you ever seen people without faces before?"
"Did you know that there is a reasonable explanation for everything if you just put your mind to it?"
"You have no right to control my life!"
"No, I'm not your father. I'm your brother."
"If your choice in men friends was more mature, believe me, I would stay out of your life."
"The sooner you face the facts, the better."
"We're not alone. I suggest we discuss this later."
"People are inconsistent when they're in a state of shock. It's foolish of you to expect rational behaviour at a time like that."
"I think you finally overstayed your welcome."
"I'm perfectly capable of making my own decisions!"
"I'm not sure what's gotten into you, but I don't think I like it."
"I'm warning you; no more questions!"
"You announced our engagement without ever letting me know!"
"We are going to get married, aren't we?"
"Life would be so simple if you two would just get along!"
"What difference does it make? Dead is dead, isn't it?"
"I don't want anyone to find out about us."
"There's no evidence if there's no murder, and you haven't proved that there was a murder."
“Here’s a good one for you, Commonwealth cats... I bet a lot of you didn’t know that out in Vegas there’s a gang called The Kings. They’ve taken up the look and style of the legend himself... But I don’t even know if they know the dude’s name! But they have to, right?” Cary laughed, leaning back in his chair. It seemed too absurd if they didn’t. They had to know.
“I guess you can make a gang for anything. Here’s some Elvis. Gimme a shout, dial on in and give me a story to beat that one.”
We're caught in a trap I can't walk out Because I love you too much, baby Why can't you see What you're doing to me When you don't believe a word I say? We can't go on together With suspicious minds (suspicious minds) And we can't build our dreams On suspicious minds
Send me "📚" and I'll post a starter with a line of dialogue from a book of my choice!
send "book" if the emoji isn't showing!
Fallout RP Masterlist!
Reblog this post and add in the tags
your URL
if you’re a single muse or a multimuse
if they’re canon or an OC
your muse’s name, and from where they come from
EXAMPLE: scrunklyrpblog, single muse, canon, Scrunkly the Mighty ( pokemon mystery dungeon )
to be added in the list!
NOTE: if you have a multimuse blog, feel free to write as many muses as you have; if you have a fandomless OC, specificy that you just have a specific verse or their “title” – and remember to reblog the fandomless masterlist too!
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[ Send “cloth blindness” for a starter where my muse is wearing a blindfold. Sent by @inthisfire-ifindrain. featuring @standingxbear ]
"You dumb sons of bitches, you think you're hot shit? I know you! I was you!" Cary had been going on for a good while in the middle of the raider camp, tied up and blindfold. Of course he had worked through his gag and if there had been any raiders left alive, Cary probably wouldn't be.
Standing Bear needed a minute. It was one thing to take on a gang of raider with your friend. Fiona was more willing to get her hands dirty than West these days, sometimes Betty tagged along, but he was lock step with West about the research and clinic and all those things about modded guns and robots that Standing Bear, and probably Fiona, too, kind of stop listening to when they went on...
It was one thing to kill a bunch of raiders. It was another to find your teenage best friend their prisoner. Someone he hadn't seen in nearly 40 years. Apart from a little gravely texture, Cary Robinson sounded exactly the same. The news that he had been a raider was a little surprising. But... after the White Legs War, well...
Standing Bear was overwhelmed. Would Cary even want to know him? He had found Two Rivers years ago... His own sister didn't want to remember that life. Nevermind he'd spent 30 years looking for her. Nevermind that he loved her, that he knew she still loved her big brother. You couldn't just erase that. You couldn't just forget that. Bear wrote to her. But she never wrote back.
"You think I haven't killed? C'mon, I could take any of you in a knife fight. Bunch of chicken shit punks... Hello?" Finally Cary figured out he wasn't actually speaking to anyone, hands tied behind him, ankles chained to a large piece of arched rebar in a road side slab of concrete in the middle of the camp. It was getting dark, the fire cast odd shadows on Cary's face.
Standing Bear cleaned off his knives against the dirty bandana he took from one of the corpses. A little too diligently. He was nervous. No, he was scared of getting rejected again. He was scared of Cary not remembering him, or their band, their friendship. He was scared of seeing that same cold look on his sister's face: I have a new life now, why should I need you?
"Talk to him," Standing Bear whispered to Fiona, off handedly as if he were too busy to do so. Normally, he would have insisted, or just been the one to handle the sociable situation as Fiona was a little more blunt. "He's a friend. But-- Nevermind, just make sure he's not a threat."
It had been a while sense she helped clear out an entire raider camp, her mind was spinning with how exciting it was. Fiona had worked so hard with West on not killing, but she knew this was a good way to let lose, and not get into trouble for it.
Maybe she got too into it, the last things most of the raiders would hear as she ended them was her manic giggles, she had even cut off ones head throwing it at another raider catching him off before grabbing him as well.
By the time it was all done she was covered head to toe in blood, the machete she always carried covered as well. She could hear the prisoner yelling, threatening to fight off raiders that were no more as the camp went more silent.
She didn't quite know the relationship between the two, but she wasn't going to turn down an opportunity to kill. Fiona looked at Bear as they stood in front of the man, she was still softly giggling a bit of a crazed darkness now to her eyes. It took her several minutes to calm back down from it all.
As Bear talks to her she nods, at first it takes her a bit no doubt she was lost in her own thoughts after all that. Having too remember she was there to save someone. "You want me too?" She says back a bit surprised. "Well alright then."
She kneeled down to Cary, "Hey calm down, The raiders are taken care of. If i set you free...are you going to attack?" If he did now it may not be the best choice she thought knowing her state of mind right now. So Fiona pulled the blind fold off of him so he can see both her and Bear.
"We are not a threat.. well." She smiled before she looked back at her friend then back to Cary, "No no we are not a threat."
"What am I gonna attack with?" Cary said after a moment, just before she pulled off the blind fold. He blinked, but it wasn't much use. He couldn't see shit without his glasses.
"Holy shit. Are you okay?" Cary squinted, unable to tell who this person was under all that blood. Not that he knew her. Or him. Or them. He glanced to Standing Bear, a blurred black and grey and red shape several feet away, then back to Fiona. "No, I'm not gonna attack."
"Cut him loose." Standing Bear said, putting his knife away and moving to face them. When they were younger, Cary hadn't yet needed glasses. To Bear, now that Cary's eyes had adjusted to the light of day, it seemed the other simply didn't recognize him. Bear didn't think he had changed that much, really. But it had been a long time. And maybe Bear had a better memory than his old friend.
"So... what's the deal, huh?" Cary asked, not aggressive but not rolling over for them either. "Just the two of you? There was like, I don't know, fifteen raiders? You guys really got 'em all?"
"We suspect so..." Standing Bear moved to keep collecting useful items off the dead bodies. He knew this was Cary. That would be a longer talk, one he didn't wish to have here.
rescue | open [Fallout 4]
Cary came to, slowly, the taste of copper in his mouth. He realized what woke him. A small rough tongue against his aching fingers. It stopped, then there was the familiar ‘meow’. Cary didn’t open his eyes just yet, there was something uncomfortable gathering in the corners, something wet in one, something dusty in the other. Something stinging against his nose. He moved his fingers, twitching to scratch at Catgut’s chin, where ever he was near his hand. Where ever he was period. The scrawny orange cat gave his human a little lick again before lightly padding away from the wreckage to the other person he had found. Cary had thought he’d seen the little orange cat follow him, at a distance, he’d learned, lest Cary shout at him to go back home.
Cary had taken down a super mutant here, just the one, someone else had taken out the other. But not before the mutant weakened the third floor considerably, missing Cary a few times with his sledge hammer. And now Cary was buried under two floors of dust and rubble, having fallen, taking a wrong step. His hand, the one Catgut had found, could be seen. His glasses were broken, the glass of one lenses embedded in the bridge of his nose, filling his eye with blood. A piece of re-barb had slice into his calf, grazing it a good amount, enough to leave a good scar. Those he could figure out. He could move his leg a little. The rest he couldn’t. He could hardly breathe.
Catgut sat miserably at the edge of a slab of cement, waiting for the other person he had found to catch up.
DEEP INTO THAT DARKNESS, PEERING.
NICK VALENTINE. SYNTHETIC ROBOT. PRIVATE EYE. UNSLEEPING SLEUTH. A GHOST IN A MACHINE. AN UNMADE MAN.
THEMES OF: Loss of memory. A search for self. Misplaced identity. Goodness in the face of evil. Unerring kindness. Gradual destruction.
Featured on @irradixnce. Open for: Plots, ships (all genders), witty one-liners, canon, non-canon, multi-verse multi-fandom AUs.
"No, I meant--" Cary looked up, explaining that coming here was the dumb idea, stopped by Nick's hand on his face. Like he always said, he couldn't come back. He didn't trust himself to not get himself killed. He didn't stay away from Diamond City because he was afraid of being found out, or McDonough seeking retribution. Cary used to be a raider. Maybe that violence never left him. He knew he could look McDonough in the face and watch the light in his eyes fade and not feel a goddamn thing.
But he wouldn't come back. Michael would not have wanted him to be that person again.
He didn't think Nicky would either, feeling the kiss, almost cold but not quite. Cary resisted pulling away by pushing himself a little forward, his brain yelling at him to leave. That people would know he was here and he's ruin everything by unleashing on the bastard that was too damn cowardly to kill them himself. In the street, in front of everyone.
He tried shutting off his brain, telling him he couldn't do all this again, he couldn't put someone else he loved in danger. Didn't Nicky get it? He was fucking cursed. Isis, the baby, Michael... He'd been running from himself since the Tar Walker massacre, when all his parents, his whole damn community just shook their heads, saying what a shame, after refusing to help.
He grabbed Nick's coat, keeping himself close before pulling away, breathing heavily.
"Nick, I can't. I can't, I'm too scared."
The bleeding heart Nick was known for knew instantly that he'd done something wrong; Cary was a man still grieving, who needed more patience than pushing. But he kissed him back, and for a moment the synth held out hope that he hadn't made a mistake. Hands wrapped around the lapels of his coat, Nick kissed him deeper.
And he pulled back. Nick's nose brushed his, those yellow eyes searching his downturned face. He tried not to let his heart drop out, but his voice was etched with bitter-sweetness. "...I don't think that's true."
His hand shifted to rest on Cary's shoulder, gentle and careful. "I think we got something, Cary. ...I do. I'm scared too, but..."
Please.
“Nicky…” Cary’s breath hitched again, then he took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut. Another deep breath. “You’re the only person I even… wanted to let in. In so long… So fucking long. And you’re the only fucking person smart enough and concerned enough to have come look for me…” Cary lowered his voice, even though they were alone.
Maybe Mcdounagh would have bugged the place. Used parts of those Institute birds—
No, Nick would have made sure no one was listening. He was a detective. That was 101 type shit…
“Don’t use my name—“ Cary said, paranoia overwhelming him despite his best efforts. “Just in case.”
Cary knew he shouldn’t have come. It wasn’t like he was going to move back. And Nick needed this place. He shouldn’t have come back. He was different here. Too paranoid and nervous to be angry, exposed like a nerve.
“I can’t do it.” Cary swallowed hard, “I care about you, Nicky. Fuck, I do. But… what’s the goddamn point? We can’t— It won’t work.”
@irradixnce
“I’ll let you leave your jacket on. Go ‘round back.”
Cary jerked his head to the side of the house, venturing back inside and going through the backdoor that Cary had cut from the house to look like just part of the wall. No way he’d ever have one exit. He took a drag from his cigarette, leaning the rifle against the house. There were a few plants. A slab of concrete with camomile flowering around it, marking Michael’s grave. Stevie and Radar slept in the sun, curled up in each other like fuzzy yin and yang, Stevie’s remarkably white coat against Radar’s dusty black.
Cary rigged the short length of hose to the water pump and picked up a wrench, fucking with the thing before a steady stream of water came from it, relatively clear. It was river water, pumped through a pretty simple purification system he had to fix more than he liked. One of the synth refugees he had housed for a short while had helped him build it. It wasn’t something he knew a hell of a lot about, but it got the job done.
He placed his thumb on the nozzle and started spraying Nicky down as soon as he came with in range. Hell, the synth was standing in front of Cary’s spill over crop of tatos. Two birds one stone.
Romance was alive and well in the Commonwealth, it seemed, and Cary was a real proprietor of it. Nothing like getting sprayed down like the dog who rolled in shit behind the guy’s trailer.
Nick stood almost forlornly as he was blasted with water, his hat blown off his head and his clothes now totally soaked through. He was waterproof, thankfully, inside and out. His pride sure as hell wasn’t.
At least most of the mud came off, and the old synth was left dripping and miserable, drenched to the bone and scowling so hard it looked like his mouth was about to fall off too.
“…So. Is it customary to tip after this sorta thing…?”
Stevie hissed reactively as water hit her, barely a few drops, waking her from her sleep. Radar growled as well, the two cats reluctantly waking up. But they didn't move and Cary redirected his jet stream to be a little more careful of the rebounding spray.
"Did you bring me any cigarettes?" Cary asked, the one in his mouth ashing as he spoke. He turned off the pump, giving Nick a once over, then flung the last fading stream of water at him, "Got it," indicating the spot he was apparently aiming for that he'd missed.
Cary coiled up the hose and pointed to the two lawn chairs nearby, in front of the bathtub that sat on the ground. There was no curtain for modesty, Cary would rather be aware of his surroundings than stop anyone from seeing his junk. There was a shelf attached to the shack right above it for soap and a rag, a hook for a towel, and a rack for his rifle. Cary went to pick up his gun before moving to the chair to sit, glancing at the cats who had gone back to sleeping in the sun.
"Regret coming to visit, yet?" There was a hint of a smile, a lightness to Cary's voice. He was glad to see Nick. He was happy the synth came back after their falling out. Nick had to make the first step, and Cary knew that, because he was too stubborn and too paranoid to do anything about amends if things had gone too poorly.
@irradixnce
Fallout RP Masterlist!
Reblog this post and add in the tags
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if you’re a single muse or a multimuse
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to be added in the list!
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feel free to specify if your muse is canon divergent too!
Character list in alphabetical order can be found HERE!
She blinked, a bit surprised by his refusal to help make his equipment. Maybe he didn't want to risk his home being encroached on? It was a bit remote...
Maybe she could at least give him a basic security system?
"Hm? Oh - I have one in my pipboy." She replied to the question - not understanding the coded message behind it. She wasn't affiliated with any faction out in the Commonwealth except for maybe the Minutemen. After everything that happened in the Capital she...tried to stay away from that. Simply help the common people where she could.
"Do you need one? Or need to check s-something for radiation s-sir? I could help you with th-that!" She smiled at him, just wanting to be helpful some how to the man.
"I could also help you with a s-security s-system if you'd like - s-since you're s-so far out."
Cary regarded her for a few minutes and looked down at the dog that had so loudly shaken up his peaceful scene here. He looked back at the girl, her smile, taking note of her stutter. The absolute dying need to help him some how.
She was lonely. He got that. Did he ever.
He heaved a sigh, shaking his head, addressing the geiger first, making something up, "I like to check the garden every now and again. Sometimes these rad storms sweep through and the stuff just clings to the produce, you know? I lost my counter on my last scavenger run. You could do that for me, I guess..." Well, that was partly true. He did have to check occasionally, but his own wasn't lost. But hell if she wanted to feel useful...
"My security is fine. The turrets are mostly for mirelurks who wander too close. People I can deal with on my own just fine." Cary didn't like the idea of anyone fucking with his system, even a good intention on it's face. Amiee could be lying still. He wasn't about to let a stranger putz around in his terminals.
"After that..." Cary shrugged. She wasn't with the Railroad but it was probably just not even knowing about them. "I'm sure I can find something else, if you're still desperate to help."
He wandered back towards the shack, turning so he wasn't putting his back to her for more than just a second.
