Stranger in a Strange Land

A large figure in an unusual hooded robe approaches you.

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Send me a ツ to see a tweet my muse would post/make about yours

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[rosetintedoptics]

deathindeathclaw warrior-xarn i want to personally thank you both for talking deathclaws

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☠ ☼

“A bad memory… You know quite well that I have far too many of those, Xarn.

You should be thankful that you were not part of the assault on the Oil Rig. I know that you would have gratefully leapt at the chance for revenge, and I do not blame you for it. I, too, was intent on delivering retribution to those who had wronged us– to find Agent Horrigan and deliver the killing blow myself.

The ultimate sentence, for the ultimate crime. But it was not that simple, Xarn.

We arrived aboard the Valdez in the dead of night– Chitsa, Marcus, Sulik, Cassidy and myself. We were…

Well. We were as prepared as we possibly could have been. Chitsa was wearing her stealth suit, Marcus had brought his minigun, Cassidy had even donned some recovered power armor for the occasion. And Sulik… Well, Sulik was Sulik.

We-- all of us-- tore through them like tissue paper. Saved the Arroyans and the Vault Dwellers from captivity. Even made some new friends-- Sergeant Granite and his compatriots. You would not have liked him, but his assistance was invaluable.

But when I saw Horrigan... Saw those red lenses, like a devil’s eyes, and heard that laugh that still makes my skin crawl...

I was afraid, Xarn. I was so afraid.

We all nearly died there. Would have, had it not been for Chitsa.

She tore him in half, and he still lived. But only for a time. Death claims us all, even monsters.

“Here is a story I find quite humorous.

I was traveling through the desert once with Chitsa and Sulik. They said they were going to go look for epa-- and I, in my naivete, did not know what that was.

It was an acronym. Environmental Protection Agency. A pre-war government institution that had been dedicated to preserving the environment and... other things.

We found the building. A nasty place, but there were plants growing within. Very strange and... curious plants...

Sulik had a pipe. The three of us sat there and smoked the plant matter. And then things got... very strange.

Sulik and Chitsa told me that I started crying and looking for food. I do not remember this.

But I do remember screaming “do it for the vine” as I jumped out the nearest window.

[frostwivern]

❝My question has as much value as the answerer emphasizes.  Much like the value of anything else–ideas, tangible objects, concepts and philosophies.❞ 

She smiles like she knows something because she does. Her posed question is simply an icebreaker to pierce the psyche and she gets what she wants in the end.  Pythia is satisfied and at peace with what she deduces.

She tastes the salt and venom of his regrets of many epochs ago, she sees the construct of him waver like the grinding of bicycle chains only to quickly reaffirm his stiff and steadfast mien.

❝I would not change a thing,❞  she hums her voice through her teeth.  Answering her own choice of topic, though not asked in return. Her robes float above the ashes of the dais when she moves and the wind hisses something fierce. 

❝The people that prayed here were monotheistic.❞  

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“You are fortunate to have that outlook.”

Yes, Goris was still better about the events that had transpired at Vault 13. He had always known that his people were living on borrowed time there, of course; after all, a concentrated population of Deathclaws could not have gone unnoticed forever, especially under the prying eyes of the Enclave.

Yes, there was one thing he would have changed. He would have stopped Frank Horrigan from ever being born upon this cursed earth.

But Horrigan was dead. Just another ghost of the past. Goris had plenty enough of those.

“Yes... They were,” Goris rumbled. “They called themselves Catholics. A popular branch of Christianity, in the centuries leading up to the war. They had women-- nuns, I believe they were called-- who remained celibate for life. Their only marriage was to the Church.”

Now that he was inside, there was no reason to continue wearing his hood. The heavy cloth stifled him-- and he felt he had nothing to fear from this human. Slowly, a clawed hand appeared from his sleeve, reaching up to pull the hood aside. A pale grey countenance, lean and predatory, gazed at her with blood red eyes.

“And what of you? Do you believe in one god, or many?” He inquired. After a brief pause, he suggested: “Or perhaps none at all?”

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"Just making an observation."

“And while factually correct, I must impress upon you the notion that assumptions can be deceiving.”

He was awfully big for a Super Mutant, as she had said; it was a good thing, then, that Goris was not a Super Mutant. The Deathclaw peered at her from beneath his hood and tilted his head curiously; the motion was quick and sharp, like a raven’s.

“What is your name, human?”

[warmxsmile-deactivated20250112]

“Oh.”

Her perception was a bit off but it was a fun guessing game. She tapped her chin, trawling through her mind for what exactly this figure could be. It couldn’t be Santa Claus, she didn’t see a beard but refused to believe he didn’t exist, she was sure she’d see him at the end of the year. Before she could offer more guesses her train of thought was side-tracked. Perhaps it was for the best.

“I’m Luna! What’s your name?”

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“My name is Goris. It is... a pleasure to meet you.”

The Deathclaw knew that his robe was not the most perfect of disguises, but that didn’t seem to matter much to this human. He was thankful that Luna had been distracted so easily; better to change the subject than to deal with any messy questions of identity.

“Now, what are you doing out in these parts, Luna? It is dangerous for your kind to be here.”

[rosetintedoptics]

Prim noticed the flutter, but she didn’t turn to look. Best not to. She wasn’t sure what she was going to find, and that meant she couldn’t know if it was good. “Well, howdy Goris!” She giggled, fingers pressed over her mouth to hide her open mouth.

“I am? Is that a bad or a good thing? Would not want to be making a bad impression.” She stepped sideways so he had the most room to move.

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“A good thing, Primrose.”

Goris could not smile, of course, even if his face had been visible beneath the hood of his cloak. But it was evident in his voice as he walked alongside her.

“I hope you do not mind me saying this, but constructs like yourself have always intrigued me. It is quite startling how mechanics can replicate organics with such ease. You are better at being human than humans are, might I dare say.“

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Send “☠” for my muse to tell your’s a bad memory.

Alternately, send “☼” for my muse to tell your’s a good memory!

[deathindeathclaw-blog]

How abaout those rferametned muttfutruit

XARN

HAVE YOU BEEN EATING FERMENTED MUTFRUIT...

WITHOUT ME?

[deathindeathclaw-blog]

xarn's mod: *reblogs a ~gay thing~ on xarn's account* woops

me: NO DON'T DELETE IT

xarn's mod: why

me: BECAUSE XARN AND GORIS ARE A LITTLE GAY 4 EACH OTHER

xarn's mod: omg

me: LOOK HOMOSEXUAL BEHAVIOR IS VERY COMMON IN THE ANIMAL KINGDOM...

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((Headcanon: Deathclaws eat fermented mutfruits and other desert plants to enjoy the intoxicating effects. Both Xarn and Goris have done this on multiple occasions.))

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“The only one there is.”

The words are given immediately, a question he’s been asked dozens of times. Even during his time with the Legion, Joshua was frank in his beliefs, although most took his statement as referring to Mars. It sufficed for appearances, then. Now, however, clarification was needed. There were dozens of tribal religions, let alone the few larger forms that’d taken root in the NCR and beyond.

“Apologies. It’s reflex when it comes to the question. I follow God, as heralded by his son, Jesus Christ. My people are of the Mormon faith.”

He sighs a little as he moves the bandages over his mouth, wincing a little as air burns skin, before taking a sip from the canteen. The water helped. He was always on the verge of dehydration, seeming to burn off water at an alarming rate. Even the best medical minds he knew could not explain the reason.

“I do not begrudge any their choices in belief, of course. The Lord manifests in many ways and, in the wasteland, we hardly all have the luxury of being granted the true word. Worship through indirect means is better than no worship at all.”

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Goris nodded, clearly appreciative of Joshua’s attitude. Such tolerance was uncommon in the wasteland; it seemed that old world religions and new age beliefs were destined to conflict with each other. The smell of burnt flesh, seared long ago, made his nostrils flare-- but he chose not to mention it.

“The god of Abraham, and Moses, and the Israelites,” The deathclaw rumbled deeply in recognition. A fair number of those in the NCR shared his belief in Christ; however, the Mormon flavor was one far more difficult to find. Although he had a brief and passing familiarity with the Mormons, this was the first one he had ever spoken to in detail.

“I am willing to agree with you there. The metaphysical is something that we must all come to terms with, each in our own way... But it is good to have faith and belief to stand upon, when the world begins to shake,” He went on. “Does that mean you are a missionary, then? Come to spread the word of Christ, perhaps. If so, you have my ear; you are the first Mormon to speak to me personally.”

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