The Deathclaw Maestro

[deathclawmaestro]

Open Starter: Fly the Coop

[deathclawmaestro]

jxtlagged

Her face was against the pavement, until hearing him address her. Slowly, her head moved to the side to face him, with one of her eyes swollen shut, her other eye just stared up into his, her nostrils flaring with subtle irritation. She had a rag stuffed into her mouth to keep her quiet, with rope tied around her wrists, elbows, knees, and ankles. She could wriggle and writhe, but that was about it. They had taken her when she was sleeping… The black eye was evidence she didn’t let them take her without a fight. A fight she quickly lost due to being overwhelmed.  Luckily she had already sold her wares, or she would’ve had very unhappy customers, however they did take her weapons–Probably scattered around the area for all she knew–And who knew what they intended to do with her in the first place, since she had no loot.

He may not have intended to save her, but at least he spared her from an even worse fate. She nodded slowly in response, writhing in her binds.

She had the sort of glare that could scorch the very sun. There was anger there, or distrust, most likely both, roiling blue like cigar smoke and a sax solo. Or maybe that was just the blue of her eye. Lexington couldn’t quite tell.

He kneeled down besides her, frowning at how nasty her wounds looked. The raiders hadn’t gone easy on this one- or, maybe she hadn’t made it easy for them. She looked like a scrapper, the sort who could kill a man for his daily portion or a hit of chems, depending on her mood. Hell, for all Lexington knew she could be a raider who was put in time out. Wouldn’t be the first time he made such a mistake (far from the first, in fact). But he’d come all this way and he’d feel like an asshole for just leaving her by her lonesome, raider or no, so... It would probably all come down to what she said, in the end. Lexington removed the rag first, then began cutting loose the bindings. Raiders were awful with knots, just awful, so cutting her loose was going to be the least painful option for the both of them. 

“I’m tempted to ask how you got yourself here, miss, but in truth that’s neither here nor there, won’t help matters none to lament about it. I suppose a better question would be if’n you have any weapons they may have taken, and if’n you know where they are so you can arm yourself. The raiders inside may be gone, but who knows how many wander the area?” Lexington rose, thoughtful, one hand on the bat slung behind him. “Oh, yeah, and I suppose you may need a stim to get going, or are you feeling up to walking?”

[deathclawmaestro]

fendiethesynth

Corner of her chipped lips twitched a bit wryly at the mention of the Goodneighbor. Irony of the irony. She only just visited that place a little more than two months ago. Actually, it was the first decent place she had ever visited in the entire Commonwealth. The whole point of traveling with the Caravans was to leave the Commonwealth altogether. To get out of the grasp of that wicked place. Though she must admit, she was so close to achieve that particular goal. A great shame, really. How it looked like she will have to linger here a little bit longer.

She blinked and gave the man who just saved her a small frown. He seemed to know a great deal of the place. That was usually something reserved to Caravan Traders, which she doubted he was one. This one appeared to travel alone, which was rather odd, now came to think of it. Anyone or everyone of this land knew the first rule of surviving at the Wasteland was always travel in group. An extra pair of eyes always increased the chances of not being dead. Yet this one…she found it intriguing. He wasn’t who she thought he was….was he?

“……………The settlement, I heard, is close to this Pre-War satellite place overrun by Supermutants,” She opened her mouth slowly as her pale eyes continued to look over him, discretely this time. Those Raiders had been talking and she had overheard them. It was because of those Supermutants they decided not to attack that settlement: “And I heard the same story about the Diamond City, too….among other things.”

It seemed she had no choice but to head back to the Goodneighbor. Doctor Amari would be so delighted to see her.

“……..If you don’t mind I am asking, eh….. where will you be heading?” She flustered awkwardly a little, for she just realised she didn’t even know her savior’s name.

“Supermutants?” Lexington frowned, biting the inside of his bottom lip. He hadn’t heard about Filch’s being near a Supermutant settlement, nor did he remember as much. Then again, the last time he had been to the place had been in passing, with Concord, and Bootshine had been roaming in the distance. The occupants of the settlement hadn’t mentioned anything in their short time there, but it had probably been the Deathclaw’s presence that had suppressed Supermutant activity. As for Diamond City...

“There’re Supermutants in a tower, I think, near Diamond City, but the few raids that take place don’t affect the citizens within all too much, from what I’ve seen. The city’s actually pretty well defended. Huge walls, turrets and guards and all sorts of nifty tech you don’t get to see at any of the other smaller settlements. The only thing that could possibly fluff up the safety in the city would probably be one or two of those ol’ cannons they have at the Minutemen Castle, but I highly doubt the Minutemen would be willing to share artillery with civilians, so it’s a moot point. Either way, you’d be safe in the city, as long as you don’t stray too far outside without a proper escort.”

Lexington rubbed the back of his neck and sighed, attention half on her and half on their surroundings. One never could be sure if there were more raiders around, after all. They were like Radroaches, disgusting, over-bred, and no matter how many you killed more seemed to spawn from the cracks. And now there was the possibility of encountering Supermutants, nasty green moronic giants that liked nothing more than to gnash and gnaw on the guts of humans? Just his luck.

Her question was expected, but Lexington paused all the same, studying her from the corner of his eyes. He had to take her somewhere, but... she was too damn innocent. Or she was a damn fine actress. Whatever the case, Goodneighbor would eat her alive and Diamond City would tear her apart, what with their recent past time of accusing most strangers to the city of being Synths. There were a number of smaller settlements scattered around the Commonwealth but none were as safe as the big two, probably. Well, maybe the Castle was safe, but he wasn’t about to toss her at the over-patriotic Minutemen. And hell if he went to those Brotherhood tinheads for help. But where...

“I was considering going to Sanctuary, actually,” Lexington found himself saying. “It’s a newer settlement than the Diamond or Goodneighbor, but they’ve gotten a pretty good set-up so far, both defense and sustainability-wise. It’s a bit of a ways longer there than to the City or Goodneighbor, though. I can either escort you to wherever you choose, but if you’d like to join me at Sanctuary, I’m sure you’ll be far more welcome their than anywhere else.”

[deathclawmaestro]

{{OOC Apology}}

{{ Been dead and on an unannounced hiatus because of an ungodly amount of overtime. I'm sorry for the lack of an update. I will hopefully not be requested to stay as much (this week looks lighter), so I will hopefully be able to post and reply soon! Thank you very much for those of you who have been patient with my ghostly presence!}}

[deathclawmaestro]

fendiethesynth reblogged your post and added:

The blonde watched the random stranger passively as he untied the restrains on her legs and her wrists. They were old shoelaces found on one of those dead bodies scattered almost everywhere across the Wasteland, or so she guessed. She wasn’t all that sure. But it wasn’t all that important anyway. What was important now was she was no longer being bounded and she was free to go. Her most desperate prayer had been answered.

She was free.

Freedom.

It was another full moment for the reality to sink in. She would not be sent back. It would take them a bit of the time to track her down. This time she would be extra careful. She would make sure to cover her track and trait. Or perhaps it was finally the time for her to visit that place in Goodneighbor. Although she was still very reluctant to do it….

Slowly getting up to her feet, she rubbed her sore wrists and watched the stranger went to pluck the Fusion Core out of the machine in the room. He didn’t look like one of those Raiders, who always had a snarl on their faces. Or Gunners, who were just a tad better than Raiders. To be honest, she wasn’t sure who he was. But whoever he was, it didn’t seem he was here specifically to save her. That, would be tote fairy tale. Where was that come from? She must had gone mad to have such a notion even enter her head. This man must had just stumbled upon her while doing a bit of….cleaning. Yep, that must be it. She pushed the ridiculous train of thoughts away and returned her attention back to his questions.

“……….I…….don’t think I do,” She replied slowly. Cornflower eyes remained fixed upon his face: “I was traveling with the Caravan Trader and they… well, they had killed everyone, including the Brahmin. I..I am not sure where I can go at this point.”

When she looked up at him, Lexington thought her eyes were shockingly blue, compared to the rest of her paleness. They were like the percussion of a drum amidst a sea of wind instruments, almost bold in contrast. He frowned at her focused and intent gaze; usually, in situations like this, the freed captive either displayed distrust and disbelief over their release (thinking it a trick of some sort), or they tearfully exclaimed their gratitude. In either case, they always ran, as fast as they could. She did no such thing, which probably meant that she really had nowhere to go, or that this was some sort of raider trap.

The woman didn’t look like a raider. She seemed a bit... distanced from it all, though that could have been shock. Or perhaps she’d become numb to all she had seen; if she had been traveling with a caravan, maybe she had previously lived a sheltered life in some small town or community in one of the other Wastelands? Hell, she could even be another Vault survivor from somewhere, wouldn’t be the first Lexington had encountered. Regardless of who she was, the immediate problem was getting her out of this dangerous area to someplace relatively safer.

“Well, from here, the closest settlement is probably Filch’s Farm, to the east. They’re open to settlers willing to work, I think, if’n you’re looking to settle down. But if you’re looking for a proper, safer place to hole up, there’s Goodneighbor and Diamond City, both to the south. We’re a bit closer to Goodneighbor, which isn’t a bad place, if’n a bit rough around the edges at times. Diamond City’s not so bad, but they can be a bit... close-minded, when it comes to strangers. All depends on what you’re looking for and where you’re willing to go for it, miss.”

[deathclawmaestro]

Open Starter: Fly the Coop

[deathclawmaestro]

fendiethesynth

She felt as if her ears had lost their function when the deafening sound of gunfire, explosions, grunts and shouts finally ceased. She had lost track of how long she had been locked up in this small storage room, next to one giant machine with one Fusion Core lodged inside one of the panel. She did not have many appetite, for the food they tossed at her all taste like sawdust. All she wanted, and hoped (a wistful wish with each passing moment), was someone somehow come to free her. But she knew it was rather impossible. It had been impossible the moment those raider ambushed the Caravan she was traveling with. They were going to send her back and she knew it.

She wasn’t all that surprise when the fire started, though. They did that all the time. Hell, they even started a fire when one tiny Radroaches casually scurried past their holding point. What she didn’t expect was how long and the massiveness this time. And the stranger who was looking at her right about now.

“Huh?” She blinked and managed to open her eyes to a slid, not all that sure if she was imagining things: “……Is that over?”

Lexington flicked away some cigarette ash off to one side as he studied the young woman before him. She looked like a faded photograph, all desaturated colors hinting at brighter days, brighter memories. She seemed confused by what he said, or perhaps she was in disbelief over what happened. A common enough reaction to these situations; there weren’t many in the Wasteland who went about rescuing others from Raiders, even those worth a ransom to someone.

It was possible this woman had family waiting for her somewhere, perhaps parents, or a spouse, or siblings, or whatever. It was also possible she had no one waiting for her, and that she would just have been one more bit of fodder feeding into the slave trade or meant to be devoured by the Raiders’ whims. Who could say? It wasn’t Lexington’s place to speculate, especially since it wasn’t getting him anything beneficial. She was here, so he might as well let her be on her way. At the very least there was a fusion core here, so he could probably earn a few caps selling it off.

“Sure, sunshine, it’s all over now,” Lexington said as he untied her bindings, glad that the Raiders were lousy enough with knots that he didn’t have to cut her loose. He rose when he finished and walked over to the machine, taking the fusion core from it and pocketing it as the panel lights flickered off. Then he turned back to the woman and looked her over once more with a frown. “There aren’t any more of those brutes around so you’re free to go, but I recommend keeping your head down out there all the same. You’re bound to get yourself caught up like this again, if’n you don’t take care. D’you have someplace to go, by the by?”

[deathclawmaestro]

Open Starter: Fly the Coop

Raiders, when they felt especially strategic, liked to kidnap whomever looked ransomable and extorted the hell out of their loved ones. Usually Lexington kept his nose out of such affairs; he’d woken from the Vault in the Capital Wasteland some years ago, but still had difficulty adjusting to the madness of this new world. He kept his head down to avoid the nasty taste in his mouth that came from dealing with other people’s problems. So usually Lex kept his nose out of other people’s affairs, but in this particular case, the raiders opened fire first, forcing him into a firefight. Tough luck, in his opinion, but the bright side was that there hadn’t been many of the attackers around to begin with. He was able to take them out with (somewhat) relative ease.

It was when scavenging through the dead’s personables for ammunition that Lexington stumbled across the raiders’ latest victim, tied up on the floor next to a spent fire and the remnants of some meals. Lex crouched down next to them and whistled low, lighting a cigarette and taking a puff as he studied them.

“My my, friend. You look like you could use a hand. Or a drink, mayhaps.”

[deathclawmaestro]

Open Starter: Goodneighbors

Goodneighbor was a pretty bad neighborhood, but the only one with its unique brand of fun. There were junkies, thieves, mercenaries, thugs, and more; a volatile cocktail of the sort of vice and sin worthy of song, the poor man’s New Vegas strip, even. It reminded Lexington of his old haunt back home, way back when.

One place in Goodneighbor he frequented (when he visited) was the Third Rail, the Mayor’s joint. For a Post-War bar, it was pretty decent. Could do with a bit more variety in music, in Lex’s opinion, but at least it had one actual live singer. And booze. One never could go wrong with booze.

It drew a sizable enough crowd, sometimes enough to fill every mismatched seat in the house. A glassy-eyed junkie was seated next to Lexington this evening; the junkie rose and stumbled towards the crowded bar, and his seat was promptly filled by a more coherent-looking stranger. Lex raised his glass of whiskey to the stranger and half-smiled, gesturing towards their surroundings.

“Come to enjoy the general splendour?”

[deathclawmaestro]

{{I've been on a sort of hiatus while adjusting to the grave shift schedule at work, but now I think it's been long enough for me to get settled. I've been doing a lot of drabble writing in the meanwhile, so I do plan on posting more drabbles regarding Lexington as well as a couple of open starters. I'll space them out so I don't spam anyone's dash. ^u^}}

[veewehchen-blog]

Oky with this update apparently also allowing to comment on/reply to reblogged posts… Please reblog this if you’re alright with followers just commenting on stuff? This might be a potentially great way to just show your approval or throw in a funny comment whatsoever in and just… if you are chill with that, it would be good to know!

[deathclawmaestro]

“Dying takes too long, so I’ll pass.”

Lexington slammed the baseball bat into the raider’s jaw and the crack of it echoed against the stone slabs of the Dunwich quarry. Red splattered against the white, the stark and vibrant contrast mixing into a vivid cocktail for the senses with a metallic garnish of iron. The bold colors and memories rose up sent a shiver down his spine, but Lexington had to frown as he turned his gaze down towards the entrance to the mine, shaking the blood from his bat as he did so. It wasn’t the expectation of more raiders that concerned him. It was that damn robot.

He and Bootshine had tracked the suspicious robot to this location hours ago. Lexington didn’t know how, but the damned mechanoid had managed to slip past the new batch of raiders that had decided to make this place their base, leaving Lex to clear them out. Bootshine had chosen to stay clear of Dunwich Borers, just like the last time they’d stumbled upon this place; the Deathclaw’s reluctance to even approach the area didn’t inspire a sense of comfort. Nor did the memories of encountering feral ghouls, or the ominous shiver of deja vu sliding slowly up his spine. But there was only one way in or out, so at the very least is he knew the robot was trapped down there.

Three steps into the mine Lexington stopped, stood in place, and listened. The silence was a nauseating yellow, the kind that was slightly desaturated and tinged with a hint of feral green. A little ways further in there was a path that led to a lift but straight on ahead into the darkness of the mines, the silence and shadows seemed to breathe. Lexington did not want to go straight.

A sound, metal scraping against rock, came from the other path. Relieved, Lexington sauntered towards the branching path with his hands in his pockets, beginning to hum low, not even realizing as he did so. He slowly peeked his head around the corner, then stepped around as he spotted his target. The machine figure stood near the button to activate the lift; it almost seemed to tremble when Lexington rounded the corner. It jerked when he spoke.

“Y’know, I’ve been looking all over for you, sunshine.” Lexington almost purred in amusement as he studied the robot that had hounded him for some time. It clearly had heavy modifications done to it, as it looked like an amalgamation of various robot models. What Lex found most intriguing about it was the strange glass dome in the place of its head. Or, more accurately, he found the brain floating within the liquid of the jar most intriguing.

“I-I-I-I-I’m s-so-sorry.”

The next thing to catch Lexington’s attention was the robot’s golden yellow paint; it reminded him of his boss’s old saxaphone. Lex cocked an eyebrow and frowned at the strange thought, and the apology. and the voice crackling from the robot’s speakers. It was distorted, but...

But.

“I tried- I tri-tried to f-fo-forget like they to-told me to, bu-but I co-co-could-couldn’t. The wi-wipes di-did-didn’t wo-work like the-they said!”

The robot’s voice sounded staticky and still a bit distorted, but Lexington could swear he knew the singer blaring through those speakers. And yet, it couldn’t be possible. He was dead. They were all long since dead and buried.

“I tho-thought I-I-I was alo-a-alone!” The robot grasped one Protectron wrist with the other’s claw, as if it wringing its hands. “Bu-But then I, I s-saw you. I... I tho-tho-thought ev-eve-everyone was d-d-d-dea-dead...”

Lexington took a step back, then another. He didn’t realize he’d stopped breathing until he nearly swooned. When he noticed he took a big gasping breath, causing the automatron to twitch again. Lex’s hand rose haltingly, shaking in the air like the last leaf of autumn, extending towards the robot.

“...Sonny...?”

[deathclawmaestro]

thcwedlogic

“Help me?” Cocking a brow, she tilts her head to the side and watches him with childlike curiosity. “And what would you happen to know about life before the war other than what you’ve maybe read on terminals or scourging up half preserved books?” She teases, bumping her shoulder against his in a playful manner. “So you like music, eh? I don’t know why but once we started chatting you struck me as the musician type, I think it might be the sing-songy way you say things from time to time.” Extending her arm out in front of her, she toys with the dial on her Pip-Boy before glancing up at him. “I got this fancy doo-hickey that lets me listen to the radio on the go. I only really listen to Diamond City Radio. If I’m feeling froggy, I’ll switch it to the classical station every now and again.”

With a roll of her eyes, she turns to look out toward the horizon just as he had a moment before. “If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you.” She says, feigning complete seriousness and shrugs. “Maybe, if you’re lucky, I’ll tell you before I eat you next Wednesday.”

“What would I know? Well, I can assure you I know a lot more about way back when than I do about the here and now, seeing as how...” Lexington looked up at the sky as he trailed off, unsure about how much he should say. Concord had told him he should keep his past to himself if he could help it, because people would either try to take advantage of it or treat him like a loon. Even after the War, truth was considered stranger than fiction. He shrugged and let her carry on believing she knew his character just by looking at him, but it was difficult not to burst into laughter when she started showing off her Pip Boy. He was glad she didn’t know about his and Concord’s hideaway at the Murkwater site, because that was where Lexington left his own Pip-Boy 3000A.

“The classic station’s alright, but they haven’t preserved enough tracks to give it the variety it needs. At least with Diamond City radio there’s the occasional new bit of news every now and again. I do wonder about the radio host, though. He doesn’t seem to have much enthusiasm for running a radio show. There are a couple of other lesser known hosts around, mostly in local areas; Kent Connolly’s my favorite, I think. I remember being such a big fan of the Silver Shroud, it was nice to hear it on the radio again.” He smirked at her. “Since I might have until Wednesday, I should be able to listen to a few more episodes before you take me down, so hurrah for that.”

[deathclawmaestro]

thcwedlogic

“You’re joking, right? I’m not some brazen wasteland wanderer like you are. I haven’t gone out much on my own as pathetic as that is. Usually I’m tagging along with a Minutemen patrol to get some experience. The furthest I’ve ever traveled by myself is the Starlight Drive-In, and that’s not saying much.”

“Wow, brazen now, am I? Such hurtful words, those could be. And your Minutemen are slacking, if’n they haven’t given you a tour beyond the Drive-In. It’s a wild wasteland out there, and you’re missing out. You should take it upon yourself to see something new, y’know?”

[deathclawmaestro]

“You’re right. This is the last straw.”

Bootshine growled low at Lexington’s comment and kicked a foot back, sending a cascade of irradiated dirt to rain down on a feral ghoul corpse. Then the Deathclaw rolled his shoulders and began to prowl forward towards an outcropping of dead trees, the trees Lexington had pointed to and which Bootshine had initially spotted the mechanical man.

It was their third time seeing the strange mechanoid. To Lexington it seemed that the robot was following them; why else would they continue to encounter the same watcher from a distance over and over again?

“Whaddya think, Boots? Ol’ gen synth or some other such faction recon unit? Slave of the Rust Devils, d’you suppose? Or maybe just a faulty bot?” Lexington found himself speaking to the Deathclaw more often these days; Concord had become obsessed with repairing (and now modifying) the Mr. Handy he had found at the General Atomics Galleria, so Bootshine had become Lexington’s new go-to buddy for conversation. The extra protection was nice, to be sure, but Lexington had the feeling that even if Bootshine could speak, he’d still be a Deathclaw of few words. It was thoughts like that which made Lexington really miss having Sonny around.

On the outside, Lexington and Sonny had appeared a picture in opposites. Lexington was tall, lean, and lanky; Sonny had been short and husky, a sporty and energetic little puppy type. Lexington was all sophisticated Virginia charm and class, whereas Sonny had an absent-minded, boyish sweetness to him. Lexington knew how to play a crowd with his words but wasn’t overly social; Sonny’d had a runaway stutter that kept him from getting out two solid words on a bad day, but could draw people to him like an industrial magnet, and he sure did thrive in crowds.

The two had complemented each other though, like chilled tea on a summer afternoon. Sonny had been one of the first (and few) people to understand Lexington’s passion for music, in fact; he had the same passion, and had opened his club so they could both share in the dream of creating and sharing with the crowds.

Lexington missed having a dream. Those days were gone, far and away with the rest of the people he had loved and lost to time.

He shook his head and trudged after the Deathclaw towards the petrified trees. Now was not the time to reminisce and feel bad for himself. He was stuck in the present, so he would just have to focus on what was before him. Dreams were irrelevant in this post-war hell. And he might never be able to see his friends again, but he could damn well protect the few ones he had now. Which meant if this mysterious robot was following Bootshine around, he was going to find out why and deal with the situation accordingly, if need be.

And yet Lexington found himself hesitating as he reached the trees. He had the strangest feeling of deja vu.

[deathclawmaestro]

deadeyedrifter

Old boy, eh? What a flatterer. Lips split into a grin; all teeth, no mirth. It wasn’t the eerie, yellow sheen in the man’s eyes. Hell, he’d seen weirder. Probably. Couldn’t think of anything off the top of his head just now, but he was sure he had. No, it was the easy charm this fucker had about him. Could never trust someone like that.

Still, there was nothing unreasonable about what he was saying. He wasn’t a Gunner. Those toy soldiers were sticklers for uniform. Didn’t look like a raider. Might really be a traveller, surprised by the storm. That made two of them.

“All right, then.” He lowered his rifle from the man’s head to his stomach. He backed away from the door that way, slowly, until he felt the rickety old chair against his calves. He sat back down, pulled up a knee to put a foot up on the control panel’s edge. The butt of his rifle came to rest atop his other leg.

“Shut the door, would you? Not just ferals milling about. Crabs, too. Storm draws them out.”

“Crabs? Oh, joy...” Lexington glanced off to the side, eyes narrowing as he made a pained expression. To think, once upon a couple of centuries ago, he used to love crabs, both fishing for them with Sonny and the gang as well as cooking them up. Now he couldn’t stand the thought of them, even despite the fact that Mirelurk cakes were pretty decent-tasting. Time was definitely a vacuum, because it sure as hell sucked.

He closed the door as quietly as he could, then slid down the wall next to it. Eyes closed and head back, Lexington drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. The man was still there and could probably take an easy shot at him if he wanted, but Lexington was too tired to care at that exact moment. Besides, the man had been kind enough not to shoot so far (despite that grin of his whispering of a distinct lack of trust), so Lex figured he couldn’t be too bad. At the very least, he didn’t seem to be a raider. Or a Gunner; those types usually ran around in scavved military gear and tech. Fortunately the man didn’t appear Brotherhood, either- he was stern-faced, but didn’t have that blatant ‘There’s-a-stick-up-my-ass’ expression and attitude about him.

The man was hard to pin with just one glance. Lex opened one eye to peer at the stranger (and watch for stray bullets). The man could have been a settler, a scavenger, or most likely a merc, what with that guarded poker face and his gun posture. But why was the man here? A thought crossed his mind, and Lexington frowned as he began looking around. “You... you don’t live here, do you ol’ boy? I didn’t barge into your home or anything, did I?”

[deathclawmaestro]

{{Shuffled some tags and links around so my writing drabbles are separate from the rp stuff, so either are easier to find. I know I didn’t catch them all but... well, allergies befuddle my mind.}}

[radiium-archive-deactivated2021]

i am honestly blown away that i’ve already climbed to 100+ followers in a short amount of time. thank you all, both followers from my previous blog (ofrevenants) and new followers, for clicking the follow button in the top right corner of your screen. i can never put my gratitude into words so i’ve decided to do it through a impromptu follow forever & follower giveaway.

FOLLOW FOREVER

the atom cats. (we interact, i admire you, and i am always happy to see you cool cats on my dash)

@gunslingerdixon, @mcssenger, @sickofyourshxt, @deathclawmaestro, @broadcastcr, @vilkxs, @esurionem, @wxstelandsoul, @pulviset-umbra, @vaultfrozen​, @mentatsghcul​, @courier2lw, @thebrokenmarionette, @tokillacourier, @vaultbb​, @falling-for-a-fantasy, @isodopcd, @goodneighborhoodjunkies, @geigercounts, @decorusmachina​

jewels of the commonwealth. (we have either just started to interact or haven’t gotten to it yet but i’d still ask travis to dedicate a song to you.)

@notageneral, @suchabastarder, @fidelismiles, @sxrdida, @stiernhawk, @yxtes, @synthetictinkerer, @moraldysplasia, @bigirxn, @breakthecutie, @codenamemoses, @xproud, @mcskedtenor, @lonewxnderer, @smallgcd,@painxofxsurviving, @wiccanwonder, @wandercr, @lastofthepast, @ashenlioness, @cameratasix

the neighborhood watch. (we don’t interact but your presence on my dash makes my day a little brighter.)

@dxloria​, @syntheticretention​, @ofselfish​, @feralvault​, @ancienthalfling​, @fabricatcr​, @cowardlyneedle

i am probably forgetting a few people and i am so sorry if i am. seriously i am so grateful for all of you, whether you are on this list or not. so from the bottom of my heart: thank you.

GIVEAWAY

first place: 150 icons of the face claim of your choosing, a promo graphic, and a header graphic. second place: 75 icons of the face claim of your choosing  and a promo graphic. third place: 50 icons of the face claim of your choosing .

icon examples:

x   x   x   x   x

graphic examples (forgive me, most of my edits are on my old laptop that i can no longer access):

x   x   x  

the rules: you must be following me prior to today (3/7) and only reblogs will count toward the giveaway. good luck everyone!

giveaway will end at 11:59 PM on 3/30/16 (EST). winners will be selected at random and announced on 3/31. this giveaway is for ROLEPLAY BLOGS ONLY.

[deathclawmaestro]

“This one needs a bit of study.”

Lexington sighed, long and loud. He had been sitting atop the scrap pile for the past half hour, listening to Concord drone on and on about the different components and circuitry that had survived their defeat of a once savage, now unmoving Sentrybot. Lexington was tired from the fight, and didn’t want to hear one more useless (in his opinion) bit of trivia about the importance of copper as a conductor or motherboards or... whatever. He was getting tired of robots.

Bootshine growled by the edge of the scrapyard, a welcome distraction. Lexington swung his legs around and half-slid down the pile and walked towards the Deathclaw. The creature was staring off towards the horizon, facing the northeast. Lex looked over and frowned, spotting a familiar stiff humanoid blur in the distance. Just as before it seemed to stare back, motionless as if attempting to blend in with the dead trees of the Wastes.

“Who’s that supposed to be, brother?” Concord had abandoned his scavenging and stood next to Lexington, looking curiously towards the specter in the distance while he put a wrapped circuit board in his bag.

“Hell if I know. Boots spotted him once before, though, I think, if’n that’s the same mysterious stranger I recall.”

“Looks like a robot. Obviously not a Securitron or Sentrybot, but... Not like your average Assaultron or Protectron, either. Not a robobrain either, unless...”

“Robobrain? You mean like those old monkey models from way back when?”

“Chimpanzee brains, but yes, that’s close enough. Those were Gen. Atom. models, Robco never did get that patent out before we did. And not all of them were made with chimp brains. Rumor had it that some were made with death row prisoners, but... Another rumor said there were some volunteers. One never knows, because the prototypes were kept heavily under wraps. But the robo-brains never made it to the more advanced humanoid stage; they had treads, last time I checked. But that was two hundred years ago, or something like that. Anyway, that one looks modded. Tinkered with, kind of roughshod, you know?”

The figure in the distance finally moved, shuffling off behind the trees. Lexington crossed his arms as he watched, suddenly feeling unnerved as he watched the mechanoid figure disappear from view. “I wonder...”