scholar.

i've seen enough to say that i've seen nothing so far. but, no matter the place, no matter the conditions, the last of my kind will live on. (indie Goris from Fallout 2 RP, as written by Owl)

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‘Deformities’ (pip-girl1000)

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pip-girl1000:

Dead. That’s all that went through her head. She was dead. Or high on some sort of drug. The moment she saw the tail she could already see the silver claws cutting through the air like butter before passing through her armor equally as easily. She froze with the medicine in her hand.

If she administered the stimpak, he could turn and attack. If she didn’t, he might get angry and attack regardless. Up shit creek without a paddle.

Also, did a deathclaw just talk??

Pip shakily swallowed and ran her fingers gently over his hide, looking for a proper vein. She pricked the skin with a satisfying ‘hisssss’ as the pressure gauge moved from full to empty.

  —  “Caref-” The woman’s touch cut his plead short. That stung. That really stung, despite the Stimpak’s needle being far from his injured hide. It felt as if it had been administered a thousand times, with none of its contents flushing through any syringes... except pure muriatic acid, perhaps. Despite so, he tried his best not to flinch, lest the process of healing that wound was ruined.

     The moment the pressure came down onto the sensitive vein, however, is best described as a much needed, blissful relief. It didn’t take long for his skin to take upon its normally pale tinge, with Goris himself allowing his reflexively hardened muscles to drop, in sync with a relaxed exhale.

  —  “...many thanks, my friend.” Surprisingly, this seems like one deathclaw who would most certainly think twice about impaling someone who has just taken to helping him. Soon draping his robes back onto his scaly back, the creature promptly turned around and offered Pip an appreciative nod. 

  —  “To make up for this little favour, I suppose it is only right if I were in your debt. Now, shall we take this discussion elsewhere, as proposed?”

[fromgruthar-blog]

‘Deformities’ (pip-girl1000)

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pip-girl1000:

Pip gasped at the stranger’s pain and threw all caution into the wind by running right up to them. “You’re hurt! Okay, I know a little bit of first aid. You don’t have to pull your whole robe off, just a little bit so I can administer a Stimpak!” She whipped it out like a ninja. “Then we can move to a better place. Like the robotics factory right here.” Rattles on the other hand, began his ‘caution’ tail rattling in small vibrating pulses. He whimpered at her and stamped his feet at the stranger. “Whrrrruff! Wuff!”

   —  “No, I s-said I’m f-” The sentence is instantly cut short by a very sharp grunt of pain. It’s no longer worth faking; that sweet, medical relief stands like the last bottle of purified water in the desert, and Goris couldn’t possibly dare himself to turn it down... not in this dire situation.

      Subconsciously unaware of his actions, the creature quickly reaches for the posterior folds of his robe and, as instructed, gives them an upward tug, thus revealing his deathclaw-like feet, deathclaw-like tail, deathclaw-like hands and...

     ...deathclaw-like back...

     His cover has been blown, and the unrelenting torment of that lone injury makes it impossible for him to realize it quicker than he should’ve. 

     Aspects aside, the wound definitely looks as bad as it could be. If not caused by the large amounts of blood alone, the sensitive hide that surrounds it has taken to displaying a rather dangerous shade of red, all over which the agony enforces its unwelcome sovereignty. 

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‘Deformities’ (pip-girl1000)

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pip-girl1000:

“Alright, so you’re not a mutant? Or more like a traditional one? Third arm or something like that. Sorry I’m rambling.” She glanced behind her and continued in a whisper. “This isn’t the place to stay either. Things have been stirring up at the Strip and everyone is on edge. I recommend getting the hell out of dodge.”

Rattles stared at the stranger. They smelled funny and he didn’t like it at all.

  —   “I would call it a... slightly-out-of-control, radiation-induced skin condition. And, perhaps some stunted body development. Eh... going into specifics is simply not my strongest suit. And, if security is such a great concern to you, we may continue our conversation elsewher-”

    Regret, remorse, and all of the synonyms that begin with ‘R’ and accurately describe his thoughts about what nearly made him yawp from the bolt of pain that zig-zagged across his vertebrae but the second he decided to take a step forward. His state merits no form of movement, instead staggering the cloaked beast down to his hands and knees.

   —  “I’m f-f-fine--” A terrible lie, an arguable excuse, or simply a statement coining a much, much different meaning escapes his now gritted teeth amidst the process of arduously regaining his previous upright posture.

      Regardless of which, it definitely leaves little to imagination, even to those who are undoubtedly lacking it, that ‘fine’ sounds very hard to believe. The agony all but forces red corners around his vision and comes very close to halting any further speech through a guttural, reflexive gag, proper to one’s need to empty their lunch in the least fashionable way.

      Blasted be his hide’s weak spots.

[fromgruthar-blog]

‘Deformities’ (pip-girl1000)

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pip-girl1000:

She had heard a few mutants speak before and they all sounded somewhat similar. Loud deep booming voices that sounded like they were yelling everything they were saying. Even Nightkin sounded like a harsh whisper. This one however sounded very throaty. Almost like a hum. Rattles shook his tail a little and hid behind her, watching the stranger very closely.

She dropped her arm. “Oh, I learned from a few friends up in Jacobstown that Nightkin don’t like to be stared at. Makes them uncomfortable and irritable.” She stepped closer. “So I take it your not big and blue?”

    ...Super Mutants, ah, yes. Taken from their previous interactions, it simply isn’t easy to be green, and even harder to be blue. Their schizophrenia only worsens their natural aggressive instinct. Goris has more than just a few reasons to agree with the fact that those FEV-infested killing machines should probably just stay around that little ski lodge, for the sake of the whole wasteland.

    One would say that it is quite ironic, for an Enclave amalgamation to believe in that. But, his thoughts digress. The question at hand brings him to lightly shake his head in response; a clothed hand being waved dismissively to accompany it.

 —  “Not at all. This is simply a... deformity. One that I wish to hide, for personal matters.” No matter which positive social cue is presented, the deathclaw is still far from taking any chances and revealing the truth about his identity, merely for the sake of keeping his hide intact. 

    ...or, as intact as it could possibly be with a bullet stuck deep in his back muscles. If this stranger offers to heal him, he could end up all trussed and fussed in quite the dangerous predicament.

[fromgruthar-blog]

‘Deformities’ (pip-girl1000)

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pip-girl1000:

It wasn’t very often that Pip traveled to the Strip. Usually it was to restock up on supplies, pick up on some information, get a hot bath, watch a show at the Tops, maybe even get a bite to eat if she was feeling brace enough. Every time she passed through things keep getting weirder. The securitons went from police faced to soldiers, the Ultralux got into some hot water with some faction -she didn’t ask too many questions, and even the NCR soldiers were getting antsy. That meant it was time to bounce.

She strolled past the guarded gates out to Freeside, sipping the last of her cold Nuka cola and chucking it into the rubble. Her bag rustled and a nightstalker pup hopped out, shaking his fur. His makeshift collar jingled. She smiled down at him and slipped the collar off. “I know you don’t like it buddy. But it makes everyone else a little more comfortable.” As she spoke some shady people nudged each other and gestured in her general direction. She pouted. And she just cleaned her gun too. Time to change direction.

She and her pet rounded the corner near Cerulean Robotics when Rattles perked up suddenly, sniffing some droplets of blood. He began to follow them to a quiet spot and suddenly stopped cold at the sight of the giant cloaked stranger. Pip followed suit just out of curiosity and gave a light gasp. This stranger was big with broad hunched shoulders that looked to be spattered with blood. Her first thought went to a mutant. What on earth were they doing here?!

“Hey.” She called in a hushed tone and slowly approached them. “Hey are you alright? Don’t worry, I’m one of you.” She suddenly covered her eyes. “Shit, sorry if your a nightkin. I’m not looking.”

     Initially unaware of the incoming encounter, Goris remained still in his attempt of an inexperienced damage assessment, naturally coming to the conclusion that he’s not going to get far with that chunk of hot iron drilled well into his back’s sensitive muscles. Were he younger, he’d pluck that thing right off with one of his massive claws.

     The joys of the years.

     The deathclaw’s spine is far from being the only sensitive aspect attributed to him. His hearing was quick to detect what sounded like soles gently crunching against the smaller bits of rubble spread everywhere, and an inhale of surprise to top it all off. 

     In what seems like a defensive approach, the beastly figure quickly retracted his bloodied, skeletal hand into the shadows of his even bloodier robe and spun around to face the unrequited presence... to whom he stared in confusion as she lay still, covering her eyes for seemingly no reason in particular. Partially relieved to see no threatening stance or the soldiers’ insignia in her very being, the concerned arms that once shielded his face soon came to rest by his sides.

— “I suppose that by ‘one of you’, you mean ‘one to bear... special attributes’, yes?” his raspy voice sounded off from behind the obscuring margin of his hood, eyes imperceptibly scanning the arrival from head to feet almost thoroughly. “Do not fret. I am no hostile mutant. I was simply ambu-”

     ...perhaps hinting towards the fact that he had been critically injured is not the greatest course of action to take against a complete stranger. He’d better try to save some face, especially if this happens to be another one of those trigger-happy deathclaw hunters. Not that she has noticed it... right?

— “Er-” Goris was quick to correct himself by imposing a rather contrived cough into his hidden fist. “I mean— I was merely ambulating across these outskirts. I mean no harm at all.” 

     And he was just as nimble to present a change of subjects. 

—  “...and, if I may ask; why are you covering your eyes like that?”

[fromgruthar-blog]

‘Deformities’ (pip-girl1000)

     Fan-tastic. ‘We mean no harm’, they said. ‘We’re just out on our patrol’, they said. How ironic; Goris himself could tell a much, much different tale. Judging by the entire assault rifle magazine unloaded upon him, it could be proven with quite the arguments that these NCR people are cans of Cram on the same shelf as the Enclave.

     Shame that the scholar had to learn it the hard way. Driven away by the weapons discharge and led into a secluded area within the outskirts of the Freeside slums. 

     Hidden well inside the plentiful mounds of rubble, a testament to the magnitude of the bombs, he could only hope that these trigger-happy peacemakers would just leave him alone, without the need for bloodshed. Relief came the moment he saw them leave in disappointment.

 — “NCR.” he scoffed, staring at the armed silhouettes from afar just as they wander into the evening’s horizon. “I don’t even want to imagine what these ‘Legion’ folk are like.” The deathclaw is better off waiting for the heat to decrease before thinking about fleeing the area. Figures. Just as he props his back against the wall, however... 

     ...the stinging sensation sends him recoiling forwards, complete with a pained grunt to match. How did he not feel this before? Reaching for his back and giving it a few rubs to ease the pain, he is prompted to forcefully stop and hiss through gritted teeth. Blood. Is this blood staining his hand?

     Fan-tastic. A bigger problem presents itself; he’s been shot in the back, very close to his spine. Any deathclaw’s hide would shrug bullets off like rubber. An albino’s hide? Not so much. Try as he might, moving has become an arduous chore better described by a state of utter agony. That bit of pointy bit of lead has done a lot of damage on its own, and going on his usual walking pace will only worsen it. 

     ...if only deathclaw doctors were as common as a human’s...

[fromgruthar-blog]

Get yourself a mentant my guy. Careful of the berry ones, they get stuck in your teeth.

// pretty sure the rules have been read, I am pleased.

[fromgruthar-blog]

// these tend to get far, so, care to reblog this if you’re willing to RP with an independent Fallout 2 (with 3, New Vegas and 4 verses) Goris, the Intelligent Deathclaw companion? Just be sure to read the rules first before interacting!