B A C K D R A F T //

" Things we lost to the flame, things we'll never see again. All that we've amassed; sits before us, shattered into ash " Indie // Selective Fallout Original Character

[extiinguiished-blog]

BetterHealing‌

“The Followers of the Apocalypse.” A pause, consideration. “It’s the group that I work for - we’re currently occupying that area, helping out those who need it who come to us.” Admittedly it was a lot of junkies and addicts, and numerous injuries, but they were… they were trying, right? If even just some people were helped it was better that sitting around and doing nothing.  Almost without a doubt that extra thick cloth had helped to save the leg from significantly more damage than it would’ve likely otherwise sustained, and Arcade would never dream of demanding the pants to be removed completely - the area was far, far too dangerous still. Still, it was enough for him to get a better look and he’d reach out towards it… pausing only for a moment to glance towards the guy’s face, intending to check if it was okay.

If it was, if there was no indication he was going to be stopped, he’d carefully check over the leg - seeking to move it only slightly as he sought to puzzle through all the damage that was likely caused. Fractured, oh without a doubt, but given the man wasn’t writhing around screaming he was doubting on a complete break. It was hard to tell - thankfully there were no bones deciding they were going to grossly protrude from his leg to make it blatantly clear. “I have a spare stimpack on me right now. It won’t enough enough to heal the damage completely, but hopefully it will bolster you enough that you’ll be able to move better to some degree.”

Even as the good research spoke he moved to fish that out, holding it up to show him. “I can administer it to you, if you aren’t able to yourself.” There were many reasons why a person couldn’t - he wouldn’t judge. “Aside from that I can help to splint the leg, but I don’t have enough tech on me to be able to tell what degree the bone’s damaged like this. I am willing to help you back to Freeside though - it’s not a far trip, but the wasteland isn’t usually kind.”

A sigh, there and gone, even as he’d lean back a bit on his heels. “If you are looking to go back east might I suggest you go and speak to those at the Crimson Caravan? You may be able to find a merchant there heading back that way.”

     He didn’t reject the Doctor’s help, however, he did hiss at the flare up of pain that came with palpating the wounded area. He’ll definitely donate his caps ( and his time if they’ll accept it ) once all of this is over. It’s rare finding folks as kind as this in these trying times. The least he could do was clean up or help defend the place from raiders. “Please do. I’d like to get moving before anymore hungry critters show up.” Cayde is to shaky to properly administer a stimpack, he doesn’t trust himself and maybe he’s putting to much trust in the doctor. What else can he do? They’re alone and every alternative ends in some kind of death.

     “While I have used an unloaded weapon as an improvised splint, I’ve still got rounds and it’d be better to keep it ready just in case we get jumped again.” Use what you got and complain not, that’s what his Captain taught him. His crew adapted and overcame many challenges before a hoard of feral ghouls finally tore them down. They fought like hell but, in the end, it wasn’t enough. Cayde still wasn’t sure how he’d gone from point A to here, how that caravan found and picked him up, guess it didn’t matter now.

     He used to have a halligan tool, probably dropped it miles back, but that would have been a great thing to have. He’ll make a mental note to find another fire station, check it out if it’s not overrun too. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to go with you back to the Fort. I want to give my thanks for all the help you’ve done. I probably would have died if you’d not been there!” He tries to get up and fails, plopping back down into the dirt with a groan. 

     A mumbled come on, come on! can be heard during the second attempt. He’s already a burden a burden enough, he has to try and hobble by himself so Arcade can get away if they’re attacked again. No sense in dying for a stranger after you’ve put yourself into harm’s way once already.

[o-b-d-w]

[extiinguiished-blog]

betterhealing‌

And with that the giant mutated instinct seemed thankfully done for, lights out. Arcade could breathe a genuine sigh oh relief right there - with that done and out of the way he could focus on what was seemingly more important, though despite his helpfulness there would still maintain a level of wariness that was… perhaps understandable. He did not know this man, and it was the true and viable fact that he very well could turn on him at any point… though he certainly did hope otherwise.

“Hmmm.. could be a number of things, of course. It’s hard to tell without a better look at it.” Pain wasn’t an overly surprising factor - those claws were damn crushing after all. The good Follower moved closer, made sure to maintain his hand well away from his gun to try to show even further that he wasn’t a threat, even as he tried to get what of a closer look he might be able too. As durable as that armor was he was lucky it hadn’t been in worse shape before it’d met that claw… more damage could’ve very well been done.

“While I’m grateful for the offer there’s no need for that. If you’re still feeling charitable next time you head to Freeside feel free to stop by the Old Mormon Fort and donate to them, if you can. They can certainly use what help people are willing to provide these days.” Once Arcade was close enough, if there wasn’t any viable efforts to stop him, he knelt down to try to see the extend of the damage, but there still lingered the definite issue of limited visibility. No blood yet as far as he could see at least, so there was that marginal amount promising.. maybe. “Are you okay with this armor being moved out of the way? I’d like to see how much that claw did… and I do have some medical supplies on me. If it can be treated here I’ll do what I can to help.”

Maybe it wasn’t much… but perhaps it was something.

     “What’s at the fort? I was going to make a stop in Freeside to rest.” Cayde said, doing his best to roll up the thick fabric of his turnout gear pants. It was meant to be resistant to fire, heavy, definitely not shorts material or the like. If he really wanted to get at the wound, he’d have to pull them off and there’s no way he was going to do that out here. Being caught unprepared with your pants up is much better than without and this former firefighter isn’t going to make a fool out of himself again!

     “You see, I’m not from around here in the slightest.” He still didn’t know how he traveled so many states without dying. Chock it up to good luck on the staying alive bit and bad luck on having disappeared from his home. Ever since he started picking around in the Mojave, life’s been hell. Every part about him screamed hopelessly lost foreigner who’s going to die because of the wildlife and not some kind of human incident. “I woke up with a caravan months ago and they’ve long since moved on. Said something about going to California. I’d rather go back east!”

     If he took the bullets out and secured his rifle to the fractured leg, it could act as a splint if there wasn’t any other suitable material. It’d leave him more defenseless that way but being mobile is better than sitting around waiting for death. Cayde didn’t expect this guy to waste a stimpack on him, let alone something that’ll heal naturally ( with any luck ) and won’t get worse.

@betterhealing

[rpmusings-galore]

                                               (  y o u   d o   c a r e  )

                                                 you care so much,

                                           you feel as though you will

                                                    bleed to death

                                                with the  p a i n  of it

[extiinguiished-blog]

Wooo got a little busy there. I’m back and I’ll be getting to any replies I owe. Sorry about that!

Edit: oh... it doesn’t appear that i have any. D:

[yaboikapo]

Just some firefighter with a mask lookin‘ up

[extiinguiished-blog]

@courier-smile continued [x]

     Whether the firefighter noticed the looks he was being given, his face showed no sign. He was wrapped up in the poor excuse of a White Russian and a tattered journal. It wasn’t too outlandish to think that the Bucket Brigades of olden times could be reestablished right? The local fire department had roughly five actual certified ( ha, as if that mattered anymore ) personnel and two pitiful volunteers with no working trucks combined with damaged tools. 

     When her voice reaches his ears, he looks up in surprise and clears his throat. Hopefully he wasn’t in her spot and she didn’t have some thug waiting for a queue. Last time he stepped onto the strip somebody chased him away because they didn’t like the sound of his voice.

     “Oh, I’m uh.. usually up the road a little ways.“

[extiinguiished-blog]

problemkiller‌

      ❛   hey,  hey  don’t  fuckin  shoot !   ❜  betsy’s quick to come out of the shadows, she’s just passing through for greener pastures and this is the greenest she’s gotten. she doesn’t let go of the grip on her bat though, and her eyes look wild. her smile’s friendly enough but there’s an odd look that goes hand in hand with raiders.  ❛  not  from  ‘round  here,  mind  helpin’  a  lost  lady  out?  ❜  //  @extiinguiished: sc.

     “Then don’t try to sneak up on people!” He hissed, lowering his rifle only slightly away from the woman’s head. Lurking in the shadows around he was a terrible idea considering how active the feral ghouls were. Just over the hill it was the scorched that came into play, replacing the mindless withering monsters. “You’re in a ghoul nest and I guarantee they will see you before you see them.” Cayde added, wary of damn near anyone not bearing a Responder patch. A settler could very well rob you blind after having been saved from the jaws of Death. “Where are you trying to go?”

[infpisme]

[extiinguiished-blog]

“Have you ever eaten raw fish?” ( courier-smile, aka -1 int courier )

Stranded Sentence Prompts / @courier-smile

     The firefighter who’d been raised under odd circumstances appeared to frown for a moment. Since being stranded at age ten and learning nothing outside of what his job would have been if the bombs hadn’t of fallen, he didn’t have a proper answer. If she’d of asked him to calculate the PSI for two attack lines and a five inch supply line on draft and not a hydrant, he could explain that in a heartbeat. As far as cooking went, the basics told him to grill or roast every kind of meat first.

     “I think you’re supposed to cook it first, so uh… no.”

[wickedlymeme]

“Are you okay?”

“Can you hear me?”

“Is he alive?” 

“Are they breathing?”

“Are you hurt?”

“Can you move it?” 

“You’re bleeding.”

“Oh my god, don’t look.”

“Can you get up?”

“The plane crashed.”

“The boat sunk.”

“No one knows where we are.”

“No one is coming for us.”

“They’ll send help soon.”

Someone will come looking.”

“We have to find shelter.” 

“We have to try and get off of the island.”

“Have you ever eaten raw fish?”

“Can you start a fire?” 

“We don’t know what’s in there.”

“Did you hear that?”

“I’m not a boar expert.”

“What if this is like, that cannibal island? You know, the one full of cannibals?”

“Guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

“You’ve lost too much blood.”

“They aren’t going to make it.”

“We aren’t going to make it.”

“Go on without me.”

“You’re really sunburned.”

“We’ll have to see what we can salvage from the wreckage.”

“Do you have any family?”

“Why were you on the plane anyways?”

“Wait, what’s your name again?”

“Have you slept at all?”

“You ever try and crack a coconut with your bare hands?”

“Bad time to suggest a message in a bottle, isn’t it?”

“Oh my god, what the hell is that?”

“… What the fuck was that?” 

“We’re not alone.”

“There’s someone else out there.”

“Get behind me.”

“Grab the knife.”

“Good god.”

“I think I see someone!”

“Is that a plane?” 

[sonandheirofnothinginparticular]

[extiinguiished-blog]

“Please, please don’t.”  ( courier-smile )

Isolation Sentence Prompts / @courier-smile

     A river of red, distant screams, and falling debris made for a terrible symphony played in the wasteland day in and day out. The Mojave was no different than any other radioactive expanse within the desolate remains of the United States. It saw just as much bloodshed between the few survivors of a once proud nation that couldn’t afford to lose what little souls remained in its burning embrace.

     Standing with a shoulder braced against a door riddled with bullet holes, the firefighter turned lone protector spat a mixture of blood and spit onto the ground. Near him was a woman who’d seemingly shower up out of the blue and got caught in the age old battle of raiders against anyone (and anything) that got in their. 

     Cayde was bleeding profusely, aching, and struggling to remain upright in the face of Death itself. He shoved his final stimpack into Catori’s hands and waved her off.

     “I’ll have to stay to keep them busy. I’m not going to make it very far like this and the settlement to the south needs to know there’s raiders coming for them. Just get out of here and warn them please, I beg of you!”

[extiinguiished-blog]

geigerblossom‌

                           ❛  raider-spikes,  scorch-blisters,  those  green  crystal  thingies  lodged  in  their  skin.  ❜  she shudders at the thought. avery had examined one of these scorched post-mortem in a hazmat suit and their skinned burned hours after death. it was like their body was a coal mine that’d just been struck ablaze and it wholly unnerving. seeing the tough firebreather stutter is an unusual experience, but there’s no laugh or smile on avery’s face. there’s a reassuring look, and a glance to his wound.  ❛  it’s  vodka,  and  some  other  things  we’re  not  going  to  talk  about.  i’m  gonna  give  you  some  med-x  but  believe  me  it’s  not  gonna  touch  it.  ❜  she’d had this procedure once, nearly made her black out from the agony.  ❛  after  a  few  minutes,  i’m  gonna  hit  that  leg  with  a  stimpak  and  it  should  ease  up  in  thirty  seconds.   ❜    her head shakes as she puts on gloves.                      ❛  these  are  going  to  be  the  longest  three  minutes  of  your  life.  ❜  she gives a few moments for the med-x to take effect as she shoots it in just above the wound, after that the procedure began. she’d made it as quick as possible, but some things are better off not rushed.

     The longest three minutes of his life were absolutely agonizing as expected from what Avery had explained. Not even the initial shock of being shot and the constant pain thereafter could compare, never mind any previous broken bones. He could have sworn his teeth were going to tear through the pillow and crack themselves when the rush hit him like a runaway freight train going full speed. Bone white knuckles had to grip the sides of the bed to keep himself steady, to avoid kicking his legs out while his upper body recoiled in pain.

      Several pops in his spine were definitely indicative of the arch it was approaching. Blazing mines and overwhelming heat have never made him sweat this quickly before.

     The strained sound alone was a testament to the torture Med-X couldn’t even begin to dull. It was like the syringe had been filled with water or simply not injected at all. Why bother? Though, if his brain could piece together thoughts properly, Cayde didn’t want to imagine what it might feel like without some kind of pain killer struggling to keep up.

     Red faced, tears rolling down his face, there could be no attempt at bravado or concealment to uphold the reputation that firebreathers were invincible. Not that he cared, most of them didn’t, but it was still a spine shuddering display of weakness. When he could take no more, his body collapsed back onto the bed with heavy breaths expanding his chest.

[extiinguiished-blog]

geigerblossom‌

       it always cracked her up when volunteers that’d been shot at tried to be modest, to get avery to look away or were god forbid embarrassed. she understood why, but it wasn’t exactly common anymore. with the old world dead, the old wold sense of modesty should’ve gone with it. it’s one of a few things avery had to drill into her volunteers, the bullets and infections aren’t going to wait until you’re all neatly undressed and covered to start infecting.  ❛  it’s  fifty - fifty  on  who  was  using  it  then,  ❜  avery sounds disappointed, but it’s really frustration. she’s going to treat it like it’s a scorched bullet though which means this injury is going to sting even worse than it already had.  ❛  there’s  a  pillow  to  your  left,  you’re  gonna  wanna  bite  it  as  hard  as  you  fucking  can  because…  it’s  clean,  but  i  don’t  trust  anything  out  there.  ❜  not with radiation, not with how quickly things can set. she grabs a bottle of vodka, mixes in a beaker with something else.    they called it a scorched shot, because it was a liquid straight in the wound. it’d go quick, it’d hurt like hellfire but it nothing else cleaned it out so well.  ❛  you  ever  had  a  scorched  shot  before?  ❜

     “Yates swears he saw something rusty running away with your typical raider spikes but nobody else could confirm.” Now, this firebreather was modest to a point and wasn’t all that worried about looks or rosy cheeks. If he had to get undressed to care for an injury or to quickly remove contaminated clothing, he would. Outside of that, however, he tended to be easily embarrassed and shy. No matter how desolate the world might be, Cayde preferred to be fully dressed and sober with an exit should the tables turn on him.

     As he reached for the pillow and raised an eyebrow at the bottle of vodka, something in the pit of his stomach squirmed with nervous energy. “N-no?” He answered truthfully with the word indicating he sort of wanted to know what that entailed, and yet, was likely afraid of the answer. A heavy swallow did little to dislodge the lump forming within his throat and it only added to the growing discomfort. For a moment he clutched the pillow against his chest in a child-like gesture, top teeth biting into lower lip with the most laser-focused gaze imaginable.

     “I’m not going to like this am I?”                      Not at all Lieutenant MacDermott, not at all.

[extiinguiished-blog]

“This place looks abandoned.”

Isolation Sentence Prompts

     Peering through the shadows cast within the small home, there wasn’t a living thing to be seen other than Mother Nature herself. Weeds and small insects not mutated to the extreme were all that appeared call this place their own. That isn’t to say a radroach wasn’t upstairs or a bloatfly out back but, for now, they weren’t in any immediate danger.

     “I agree but let me take a look upstairs first.” The mask of breather had been cleaned incredibly well allowing others to view his expressions rather easily. He bore a look of concern, not unheard of and certainly warranted. With a hunting rifle raised, Cayde climbed the stairs only to squeal in alarm as an unsteady chair fort came toppling down. It had deposited a skeleton upon his back and that is all Avery would see as he raced outside flailing his arms in an attempt to get it off.

[extiinguiished-blog]

     Cayde has a faint French-Canadian accent from growing up in US annexed Canada until the age of ten (see his backstory). It’s fairly easy to pick it up, of course, but only when he’s truly stressed out does it lay on thick. This makes him a bit of an oddity and contributes to his difficulty in speaking to people that aren’t full Responders unless necessary. Even then, that is further restricted to the Firebreather crew he is with and medical staff that are in direct contact with him.