I am so, so very proud of myself. Not only have I drawn 31 full illustrations, but I have also written for each of those days. I have not finished something like this since Inkober in 2019 and March of robots in 2020. For this I’ve been doing twice the work.
I really hope you enjoyed reading these as much as I enjoyed making them. This isn’t the end, infact, it is the beginning! I currently have a comic series in the works: Return to the Capital Wasteland! This story, is a scene from the first chapter.
Thank you, and happy Halloween (my favorite holiday :) )
Characters written as humans and drawn as cats
Story warnings: Cult, slave collar
Delilah was not expecting to end up here. The world swirled with a world dark, darker than she’d seen in a long time. She wasn’t in the Mojave, that was for sure. But where was she? The question rang like an alarm as she slowly became aware that she wasn’t alone, that people were surrounding her, people in crimson. She felt herself stiffen as two things became apparent:
An explosive collar hand around her neck, cold and heavy.
And the fact these people spoke that “the demon must die”
Who? Her? Delilah wasn’t sure what they were doing - trying to do, but she knew she needed out. So she pulled off the collar - it did not detonate, she knew how to remove one safely, she had done it again and again. Throwing it into the group, she used the collar as a grenade as she ran. The exit was a circular set of stairs, spiraling down. A lighthouse. That’s where they were. But where- Point Lookout. Jesus, what? That couldn’t be farther from the Mojave! At least now she knew how to get herself - and whoever's body she was in - safe.
She ran, as fast as she could, to get her bearings, to know what’s happening. She circled her way around, quickly moving towards the old docks, eventually coming upon the Duchess Gambit. She remembered it, remembered who now owned it, but she didn’t have time to look, to ask, she’d give it back later she decided.
Once sailing, Delilah tried to exit this body, to get out. Like she had with Cyrus time and time again, but she didn’t feel her freedom. She couldn’t get out of this body. That’s when she noticed the amount of pain she was in, her body sore, legs wobbly. Not only did she never experience this in Cyrus’s body, but she rarely felt it on her own when she lived.
Then the questions circled in Delilah’s head. Who were these people? They were certainly not a part of those tribals, in fact, where were they? Her eyes rounded when she realized the color and design of the armor they wore. Crimson. Wearing pads that ultimately wouldn’t give any projection in warfare. There was only one faction she could remember with armor like that: The Legion.
But why were they here? She’d wiped them out - almost completely - how were they still around, let alone here? And why were they doing such a ritual? She always saw them as crazy cultists, but nothing like this. What did this mean for the Capital? Were they in danger or worse, under Legion control?
Delilah pondered, and she pondered, and pondered. Eventually she could see DC, buildings that touched the sky, not as high as Vegas, and not so lively. It felt as though the world was now covered in a shade of green - a green that filled her with familiarity. As she docked, she could once again smell the air, and the light breeze that beckoned her, called out to her.
Anyways as always characters drawn as cat but written as humans
Story warnings: mentions of death
Gone. That's what I must be to you. I think about that often, despite my efforts. The world still reminds me, my back still hurts. I wished I could at least say goodbye, at least tell you why I was gone, why I can't come back. But I can’t. Now I can’t even try. I hope you’re safe, Bill. Despite my moving on, I still look in the mirror, and I still confess… I still love you.
You are safe, I hope, I hope that Edward spoke the truth, I hope he changed, shifted that focus. But… I doubt it. He’s probably out there causing more harm. Killing more people, even children… his operation has probably grown. That fact makes me sick, I wish I could go back, I wish I could fix it. But I can’t. I have responsibilities here.
How I met Catherine still seems like a blur, with many, many details filling up the film, the snapshots of memory that swirl in my head. I can remember it, but no way I can properly describe it. You’d never believe me anyways. She was beautiful, but it took me a while to move on, accept that I’ll never see you again, never feel your comfort. But I’m across an entire wasteland, a deadly, rotting wasteland. And so I’ll never see you again. And that’s okay.
I loved her like I loved you. I still love you. Together we started a project, her project, Project Purity. Together we were making the world better. Us and our teams, we got so far, but not close. Not enough. Especially when it all slowed, because Catherine was pregnant, pregnant with my daughter. I was so excited to be a father; she was excited to be a mother. But she never will be. Because she died upon her birth. And so I have another person’s death on my hands.
I know you’d love her anyways, my daughter. She’s so sweet, so small. I love her with a love I’ve never felt. I know this world is dangerous, I know this world isn’t safe. She’s so small, so helpless, isn’t ready for the world. Which is why I do this, which is why I live in a Vault, Vault 101. We’ll be safe, she’ll be safe.
I try not to think about you, about either of you.
But my back still hurts.
And the verse Catherine loved circled in my head, telling me it isn’t over.
It makes me wonder if this is right, the Vault, the Capital… if I’m making the right decisions. But I can’t take her with me, when she’s not even a week old, across the unknowing wasteland. I know there is someone like me with you, another man of faith. But faith doesn’t dictate whether you are good or evil. Doesn’t stop you from bad decisions, going down a dark path, like I knew he was, even if I can’t remember his name.
I know what faith is meant to be: hope.
And when I look to my daughter, that’s what I feel.
So I will tell her as much as I can, about me, about my life. Teach her as many lessons as I could. But she’ll never know you, about who we were together. About what it’s like to love like that twice. About the pain of losing someone suddenly. But she’ll know about her mother, about her smile, about her personality, and her favorite passage:
“I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life, freely.”
I repeat that, at least once a day. To myself. It stings, but it reminds me of her. It certainly doesn’t hurt as much as the pain in my back. The pain I must ignore. The pain I must work through. Worth through for her.
Inside the house—her house, the house she’d lived with her family—it was almost normal. In spite of the missing pieces in the walls, the leaking roof, the damage of 200 years untouched, to Ophelia it was still home. She could remember, almost like shadows, the memory of life, life of living happily. The slow, rainy days where she and Spencer would sit and watch as rain fell, despite its descent, still graceful. The memories of rocking Shaun, he was so small. The memories swirled in her head, making her eyes well.
As Ophelia circled, touching lightly the dust and dirt across the counter, he recounted things that still stood that she had. Dishes still in the sink after use, the abraxo cleaner, still unopened, it was all a reminder of the past, the past that she’d lost. The past that would never return.
Hesitant and careful, Ophellia made her way into a room she was hesitant upon. It still had everything, crib, toys on the floor. The colors still covered the walls. And in the corner sat a crib, empty, without purpose. She rubbed her finger across its surface. “I’ll find you, Shaun,” She whispered. “I promise.”
Another of Delilah committing murder, she does nothing things I swear lol
Image warning: blood
Story warnings: Murder, violence
Characters drawn as cats but written as humans
That man needed to die. Delilah knew this, was glad of it. Dr. Zimmer was a danger to not only Harkness, whom he was here for, but a danger to Rivet City, and a danger to the Capital Wasteland. And so she’d gotten permission to take him down. He was a part of the Institute, a slaver, the very way he spoke pissed her off. She really wanted to but the idea of her father’s reaction stopped her. That was until she had permission, that was ok, right? And the Wasteland would be better off. Sure, she’d killed those who attacked first, but the only other time she’d done this was taking care of Mr. Burke. It was a… unique feeling, killing him, a feeling she’d never felt before, her heart beat as crimson covered her, her head spun, oh the thrill. He deserved what was coming, his father would agree, right? It’s not like he needed to know, he was still missing afterall.
Delilah watched from the shadows, waiting for him to be… alone. Or rather as alone as possible, he still had that body guard.. Her heart felt a pang of guilt at the fact she had to kill him too. No way of convincing him, not that she could see. As soon as the world seemed calm, Delilah made her move running forward, he turned to notice her as she struck him in the face. He fell back, nose bloody. Delilah stood a moment, she wasn't expecting him to be taken down so easily, so quickly. Between that and the fear in his eyes… She felt so powerful. Like she owned the world.
“Awe! So now you feel the fear that you caused so many others,” Delilah told him, chuckling. “You tracked them down, made them suffer,” she stepped forward, the world around her felt like a void, the spotlight only on her and the monster she was slaying. Pulling out her gun, she held his head with the tip, his terror fueling her. “Who’s laughing now?”
And then she pulled the trigger, and he bled, he bled a lot. More than she expected. She could feel the pride of it swell in her chest as he gasped once, and then went limp. And then her fun was over. And then, glancing at his frozen bodyguard, she knew what was coming.
She felt no justice killing him. He attacked first, was more of a challenge, but it felt as if… it wasn't justice. But it had to be, he was working with a monster, yeah. And a well-placed shot to the head put an end to that. She could move on and not think about that.
Pride swelled as justice bloomed, Delilah achieved something good, even if not notable next to the other achievements of her work. She brought justice again and again and again. Her pure eyes watched over the wasteland. But at that time, she was looking for her father. And so she went into the wasteland. Into her future.
I keep getting behind on these, so apologies. Today’s is coming tomorrow, I’m super tired.
Hopefully good on today’s story warnings, as always characters drawn as cat but written as humans
Cyrus didn’t expect an argument to leave him alone, to make him have to watch over Vegas by himself. Delilah, ghostly woman with eyes so pure they felt almost… Wrong, had argued with him so often that it almost felt normal. They didn’t expect that putting their foot down - truly putting their foot down - would make her leave, would make her go. After everything, every extreme that Delilah went through, even as far as possessing his body, Cyrus was surprised by her disappearance.
Good riddance. Cyrus was free, free from her, right? They could do whatever they desired. But no.. no… They were left in a position of power, a position in no way desirable. At least to them. He didn’t want to rule New Vegas, or really rule anything, he just wanted to be a courier. That was what they enjoyed. But no… he had to be forced into this… spotlight.
And at the worst time too. Tensions were rising again. Especially as the NCR had lost Shady Sands… the new general, General Reed, had slowly become more and more aggressive, coming closer to an attack. An attack Cyrus knew about, but didn’t know when, couldn’t stop. Would he be killed? He didn’t know. He could only hope for a peaceful ending.
And so Cyrus looked out the glass window of the Lucky 38. Over an unstable target. Over something he wished he could run from. But they didn’t even have help, that help was gone. He was alone. And so there he was, a lonely king, looking out over his kingdom.
The Circle of Steel. A fancy name, a fancy title for someone who was so easy to take out. Knight Cardinal Pinkerton of the Circle claimed that Irwin was a danger to the Midwestern brotherhood. He wasn’t a danger to the Midwestern Brotherhood, but she was. And he was a danger to her.
So once again, he knew he’d have to swallow his pride and take care of it. He wondered, no, he knew the circle would wonder what happened to her, although at the same time, he wondered if they would care enough to look into it. It didn’t matter. Regardless of the outcome, it would be too dangerous for her to be alive.
So he ignored the memories and regret that echoed in his head that cried for no more bloodshed, for no more justice. Irwin wished to agree, but he couldn’t. Couldn’t let it go, couldn’t let this slide. Not when everything was at risk.
So he followed her to a place where no one would hear what took place. Followed her in the shadows, not revealing himself, not even a little. The kill was quiet, quick, not a sound, a quick snap and it was already done. She was dead. And Irwin would have to deal with the aftermath.
I saw Galton’s eyes sparkle as he looked up at the sky. Rain. But not just any rain, it was green, toxic. I could feel the stress fill my body,quickly like an electric shock. Grabbing him by the arm, I pulled him underneath an awning of an old, abandoned building.
He shook himself, confusion filling his gaze. “What was that?” He asked. “I haven’t seen rain before, I wanted to feel-“
“You have no protection against the hazardous materials in it,” I told him. I hated this, I hated feeling rude. “I don’t want you to get radiation poisoning. Or worse…”
“Worse?” Galton tilted his head, but I didn’t respond.
We sat there, watching the green bits of water fall down from the sky, landing gently onto the ground. “Is your father going to be ok?” Galton whispered.
“He’s wearing power armor, he’s safe,” I smiled. “He’ll be safe. He’s always safe.”
“Will he keep us safe?”
“Of course he will,” I smiled. “And we can keep each other safe too, I promise.”
James was the most friendly person that Catherine and Madison knew, he seemed to get along with anyone and everyone. It was almost odd, almost absurd. How could anyone be like that out here? Especially after what he’d told them about? Catherine didn’t fully understand, but she admired it. Admired him. And that’s all that mattered.
It was strange, the stormy night Catherine died and Delilah was brought into this world, that James, even when his heart was shattered, could stay the way he was. It was odd from the perspective of many how the paladin that escorted him matched him so well. Maybe in another world they’d be together, but probably not. Maybe his good helped him into safety, into the vault, maybe it did matter.
Delilah always saw her dad as perfect, and someone who could do no wrong. That was until he left. But she never held it against him, maybe a trait she’d earned from her father. He was trying. Even with his final breath.
I’m so behind, constantly. At least I get to show off my favorite rare pair (I’m the only person who ships it because they’re from two different games) Bill Calhoun x James
Kinda just ran with creative liberty
Characters written as cats
Story warnings: Violence, blood death, grief, suicide mention, Fallout 3 and New Vegas spoilers, I can’t write cannon characters for the life of me
“Isn’t this place lovely?”
James’s calm voice rang in Bill’s ears. It sounded like an ocean, brushing back and forth peacefully, slowly rising to wash away any negative thoughts that crossed his mind. The two - or rather nine, they were a group - had just come upon the grand canyon. Bill had never truly understood that name until now, grand, but now, upon seeing it, he could appreciate its astronomical size and the beauty of the earth, layer, layer, layering. And untouched by nuclear fire. Bill smiled at the sight, at James’s remark, opening his mouth to respond, but someone else blurted out something that made him wish to scream.
“Too much open space,” Spoke up a man, named Edward Sallow, his voice like nails on a chalkboard. Nobody liked him, in fact James recruited me to try to get rid of the man, but they sent him with us anyways. Just because he was an anthropologist didn’t mean he’d benefit the group in any way whatsoever. Nobody liked him, he was argumentative and yelled at anyone if they didn’t do what he wanted. Threw fits, like a fucking manchild. “Makes it too difficult to defend.”
“It’s something new,” Benjamin, the unofficial leader of the group, grumbled. “Nicer than the Boneyard.”
“And it’s not that exciting, we have things to do, not admire-” Edward’s fiery words were interrupted by James’s calm ocean.
“We have to wait for that New Canaan guy to meet us and we have no idea where he is. We can’t communicate with anyone - unless they speak English. We can waste some time, Edward, you can relax,” he smiled. “So, you don’t have to stress, okay?”
They all knew - or maybe all but James knew, that Edward wasn’t actually stressed out. He was just a jerk. In fact, he would usually continue to berate him, and he would continue to try to soothe him. This time, however, Edward stayed quiet, following the rest of the group as they moved forward. James stood tall with a smile as he continued to look out upon the canyon. The sun above made him glow.
Patient river, calm voice
The aura of an angel
~
“This isn’t even bandaged properly” Once again the nails were scraping. Not only did the group have to convince Edward that he needed to have the cut looked at, but now he’d been complaining. “And the stuff on my arm makes it hurt more!”
“I’m applying it to prevent any infection,” James responded calmly, trying to adjust the bandage for the third time. It’d have been fine if he’d listened the first time. “Now please stand still… it’s making my job harder.”
Bill watched from the corner, watching James while refusing to meet Edward’s eyes. He tried to help first, but couldn’t put up with the verbal abuse. Somehow, James was able to brave it. Why was he being so nice? How did he keep doing that? An impossible task.
After a few moments, James stepped back from Edward and nodded. “That’ll be good. I made sure to wrap it in a way that-“
“It better not fall off this time.” Edward grumbled as he brushed out of the tent. Back out to do whatever he wanted to do. Probably read those stupid Roman books he found.
Bill made his way over to James, leaning on him. Lovingly, he looked back at him, putting an arm around him. They stayed like that, drawing comfort from each other. That was until they once again heard those nails, yelling about that stupid cut.
“James, you don’t have to go help him,” Bill whispered. “It’s a small cut, it probably doesn’t need to be covered.”
“Maybe… but it’s my duty, besides, someone has to take one for the team. Give the poor guy some patience and attention,” James replied, lightly removing himself from Bill’s embrace before going outside to look for Edward.
Bill waited, waited for just a little bit, hoping James would just tell Edward to suck it up and come back to their moment. But that thought was cut short as the sound of footsteps and growling startled him. Bill's eyes widened in terror as he heard the footsteps of a giant beast, growling, he recognized it immediately: a deathclaw.
It was all a blur. Bill remembered everyone trying to stop the monster, trying to fight it off, but being picked off one by one. He remembered watching James try to fend it off and- the claws digging deeply into his back. That Benjamin, in an attempt to stop the Deathclaw, ended up in its jaws. How it came towards Bill, how trying to stop it from destroying his medical supplies ended up in his arm getting caught. The pain, the blood, and then it faded.
The next thing Bill remembered was James, swaying, trying to patch him up. He smiled a bit, but then fell sideways. Despite the pain he felt, he needed to help him. His love, he had to. James’s bleeding hadn’t stopped, probably why he passed out. While trying to stop it, to stitch him up, Bill noticed something, someone, Edward always sitting in the corner. Just watching. Why? Why wasn’t he helping!? What the hell?
After a while James woke up, looking to his back with a wince, then back to Bill. “You’re okay…” he whispered.
“You’re the one that almost died,” Bill blinked slowly at him.
“As long as everyone else is safe. Are they okay?”
“…I don’t know I just-“
James was already up, trying to make sure everyone was fine. Everyone other than Bill and James, who were stricken with terrible injuries, or the unharmed Edward, was dead or dying. James tried his best to keep calm in spite of the terror in his eyes. The terror made Bill sick. With every moment he winced, flinched. He grit his teeth as he began to do what he could. He whimpered, making small, heartbreaking noises as he worked. Bill tried his best to help while Edward stayed in the corner. Watching. Useless. James took initiative, despite the pain he was in. He was convinced he had to save them.
Seriously,
What an angel.
~
“DAMMIT!”
James’s loud yell awoke Bill, looking up from his makeshift bed. It’d been a few days, all but one of them had passed away despite the best efforts of the two. Nothing from Caesar. Bill’s eyes rounded as he noticed his partner’s shaking, crying. “…James?” He whispered, walking closer. Basil, the plant expert of the group, lay on the ground, cold and still, eyes void of life.
“T-They’re gone… I-I couldn’t save them,” James spoke shakily, tears rolling down his face. “I tried everything I could and they all died…! I tried everything… I tried everything…but they still died…” he stared at Basil’s body for a long while. “They all… died…” he whimpered as he erupted in sobs in tears.
Bill put his hand on James’s back as he continued. “I failed… I failed everyone…” he whispered.
“You tried,” Bill told him. “That’s what matters. Besides, you saved me.”
“But they could’ve lived… they could’ve lived and I couldn’t save them..”
“It’s not your fault. That deathclaw… destroyed almost all of our supplies. You tried your best with what you had. You did your best and you did good,” Bill leaned into James. “They all rest easy knowing you tried,” suddenly, he got a sour taste in his mouth. “No thanks to Edward.”
James gave Bill a quick look of concern.
“If anyone’s to blame it’s him. He sat aside while we struggled,” Bill growled.
“While I agree he didn’t help… I don’t know about that,” James looked away. “Nobody deserves the weight of the dead on their shoulders…”
“OH REALLY!?” Bill spat. “Talk to him. Tell him everything. He won’t care. Edward Sallow cares for no one.”
James was quick for a moment, before sighing. “Maybe I should talk to him… at least let him know about Basil…” he looked back at Bill, the. Turned to leave. “I just… hope you're wrong about Edward…”
Almost out the door, Bill spoke again. “…James?”
James looked back at him.
“I appreciate your kindness, but your naivety will get you or someone you care about shot. You have to understand that some people are just… evil. And they lie. Don’t let that man lie to you.”
James nodded and left.
A while later, he came back, a tired expression on his face. Following him was Edward.. And a new face. Bill remembered that someone was meant to meet them… oh shit! how could he have forgotten. This new guy’s name was Joshua Graham, and while James tried to explain everything to him, Edward interrupted them. He never really let James speak to him. But he didn’t care, seemed optimistic, “At least he’s got a buddy now,” he said. “At least he won’t be lonely.”
He’s so innocent,
Such an angel.
~
The screams of pain, screams of terror, would haunt the nightmares of both of them. I changed nothing, they’d gone to do what they’d gone to do, but it ended poorly. Someone must’ve done something. Bill believed it was Edward or Joshua’s fault. Had to have been. Everything seemed fine, why would the Blackfoots immediately turn on them? Well, Edward decided to convince them towards violence. Lead them to kill everyone, everyone from the first group attacked. It was a horrific sight, Bill and James didn’t fight. Staring at a dead woman, for once, James was not so calm.
“Something has to be done…” James growled. “Someone must do something…”
“How?” Bill whispered. “He’ll just kill them.”
“Maybe ” James took a deep breath, clenching his fist. “He just needs a talking to.”
“Didn’t that do nothing last time?”
“It’s worth a shot, with so many lives at risk,” he smiled.
“...Okay,” Bill leaned onto him. “Just be careful.”
“I will,” James started walking, carefully, painfully turning away, before looking back. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Bill whispered in response.
And then James walked off. For the last time. He disappeared after that. Deep, into his ocean. Bill asked and asked and asked where he was, ignored by an unhelpful Edward, shot with a confused Joshua. Bill watched as things got worse, as Edward’s little cult grew, calling him Caesar. He watched and watched and finally, broke under it all. He left, eventually motivated by a growing threat, the loudest those nails scraped that chalkboard.
“You dare to defy me? You’ll end up dead, just like James.”
A part of me didn’t believe it.
He couldn’t be dead.
Not my angel
~
It was sometime in 2278 when Bill heard of James’s name again. He was doing his own thing, still with the followers, but alone and distant. He was surprised a courier could even have found him. At first he thought this courier was an NCR ranger, but their armor and jacket bore no symbols or marks, merely an “06” upon the neck piece.
They smiled, handing over a letter, eyes filled with excitement. “Came allll the way from the Capital Wasteland!”
“That far? You sure it’s for me?” Bill asked, brushing his fingers across it. Had the brotherhood emblem on it. Strange. It was addressed to him. Hesitantly, he opened it.
Caesar appeared to have lied, James was alive. Only he’d ended up on the other side of the wasteland. Only he’d found a new family, a wife, and a child. Only he’d spent several years in a vault, raising that child before going out to help the wasteland. Only he died, suicide, radiation poisoning when trying to stop another evil man from destroying the wasteland, poisoning it like Edward.
Bill’s tears rolled down his cheek as he started to sob,it felt the world had fallen. Shattered.
This is sorta a love letter to one of my favorite places ever.
No warnings today, this one happy!
Characters drawn as cats, written as humans
Peace.
The feeling I felt while I looked out into the landscape of the Windy Wastes. The war, the battle, the blood, it didn’t matter here. This land was safe, holy. Every step in the rusty, dead grass, every step in the cracked, concrete roads that rose over the swampy land below, each and every step felt like the clouds above. Every inch of suffering, fear, and war covered in the golden sparkle of the future, of hope.
Peace.
The feeling I felt back when a group of caravaners spoke of a lone woman who single handedly saved the Capital Wasteland. Who purified the waters, whose pure eyes burned with justice. The recount of it all reminded me of home, reminded me of the man who saved my life.
Peace.
Is what I felt, somehow, as I watched the mushroom cloud raise above the water. They’d attacked me, attacked us, and I was just a kid. They’d destroyed my peace, a peace I'd have if only my hero had come sooner, with a piece of technology. Technology that now brought purity to the waters of both sides, both worlds. Now though, I was safe, surrounded by my kin, sitting next to my hero, the hero we’d chosen from birth.
Peace.
The feeling when someone defeated the monsters out to get you. A man I love, a man I adore, I met that way. He defeated the darkness with ease then, but then again, he was willing to lay his life down for myself, and for someone else. That someone, a friend, had worse monsters, but my love gave him peace. He gave me peace. He gave us all peace.
Peace.
The feeling that sprawled through my chest, with my friend and love by my side, with the stories of heroes on my mind. As I walk through the streets of the windy city. As I walk past the bronze lions that guard the doors of a once flourishing museum. As I talk past the bridges and trains, unroad and unmoving. Past the shining bean that bridges the gap between the factions that fight for this land. Past an ancient building, that of water, surviving fire. Past the ancient beings, tucked away safely, claws and teeth on display. Past the home where technology showed itself, technology we’ll never see again. Past the building that reach to the sky as if it were a contest.
Peace.
Is what I feel when I’m home, a place formally meant to display the stars, to tell what was beyond us. Something few care for now. I sit outside, city behind me, reflecting in the water, the Great Lake, a lake that stretches as far as I can see. It feels bigger than it is, it feels like an ocean, when I know, I know that it only stretches a fraction of one. But it feels as if it goes on forever, forever and ever.
I am reminded of an old song I heard on the travels, when I traveled the contrasting mountains, with my long-gone father. It sang with such love, such devotion to home - “almost heaven, West Virginia.” Well, to me, that place was a mere blip in my life. It was empty, lost, but here I feel hope. This is it, this is what beat that desolate place. This was heaven, this was Chicago.
The artwork for this one took me SO LONG - wish I had simplified versions of some of them lol.
Image warning: blood
Characters drawn as cats but written as humans
Story warnings: violence, slavery (implied), blood/gore, death, sexism, public execution, it’s the Legion what do you expect
So much of this feels like cause and effect.
The group came in and we refused to let them go…
So Edward Sallow had an audience.
Because Sallow had an audience…
He managed to start his Legion.
Because he started this mess…
We had to follow his rules.
Because his rules were bullshit…
My wife, Ember, attempted to kill him.
Because Ember had been caught attempting to kill him…
She was sentenced to death.
Because she was sentenced, I now stood, in a crowd of people, of everyone who bowed down to that cult leader, to everyone who called him by the name “Caesar”.
Everyone had told me that Ember wasn’t worth it, that she was only trouble, they were only scared of a woman who could outmatch them. I liked that. I felt comfortable with that. We lived, and loved, and had three children: Emeric, Unique, and Flame - or as the Legionaries kept calling him, Vulcan. They stood around me, watching, watching, watching. Above, Sallow watched with his little posse: Joshua Graham, the wettest of wet blankets; and Bill Calhoun, whom I knew as the local midwife, and was always unsure of everything Sallow ever did. Bill had, in fact, midwifed Flame’s birth. He was the one to do it because he’d put his foot down. Even when a friend of his begged to do it. Who was he? I can’t remember him. All I remember was his overworking in spite of a back injury. He and Bill did not scare me like the other two men did.
I watched as four legionaries walked forward and began to circle Ember. Sallow announced something, said something, but it didn’t process, I couldn’t fathom that he’d managed to gather not one, but four people who were willing to fight her. Ember had gone on for so long without challenge. Nobody from any tribe, any group that Sallow and his men had conquered, had dared to fight her. So in spite of the Legion’s laws, she lived her own life, free of fear. I envied her in a way. Maybe these four men weren’t actually from here, I didn’t recognize them.
As soon as the battle started, Ember quickly took out one of the four, swiftly circling around him before slitting his throat in seconds. The man fell to the ground, gasping for air as he died in the same colors he had fallen for. The crowd gasped, roaring, I was unsure of what they felt.
After a few more moments, another man fell, maybe having lived if he hadn’t fallen onto the ground below with such force, his head oozed blood. It bubbled and popped as his chest slowly stopped heaving. Ember managed to score a hatchet in order to behead the third. That death had to have been quick, I stepped back as the head rolled down to my feet. Even with all this, she’d gotten merely a few scraps and bruises.
I wondered what would happen if she’d have won. Would Sallow’s reign end? Would every person realize his laws were bogus? Or would they try to kill her anyway? Or killed us, myself, Emeric, Unique, and Flame. Flame watched the battle quietly, nervously. His body was tense, eyes wide, fearful. I looked up to Sallow, Joshua, Bill. Sallow and Joshua watched from above, quiet, emotionless, while Bill’s was a mix of sorrow and horror. What were they thinking? Were they-
My thought process was interrupted by a scream, my eyes darted back to the battle. Horror, sickness. I wanted to scream myself, I wanted to cry, but it was all caught in my throat. All caught as I watched the final legionary stab into Ember, tear through her skin, cutting it like a pair of scissors. The world spun as I watched her collapse on the ground, as I watched her take her final breaths. As I watched them get rid of the body.
He did it, he actually did it. He managed to kill her, kill my wife. Someone stronger, more powerful, who surpassed me in every way. I remember her beating me in every arm wrestle, every little game we played. I remember her fire burning brightly, burning everyone who dared to challenge her. I remembered it lighting up the dark night, whenever I was sad or lonely, or when she needed to guide her children into the right path. I remember her glow just bright enough as we looked up at the stars, as she told me what secrets they held. Who they were. Their identities. Even now the man, covered in blood, collapsed, heaving his last breath, was burned by her. But now, her flame was silenced, snuffed out by villainy. By darkness. And now, I had to live with it, in the darkness, void of her light.
Because she died,
Emeric refused to let anyone close to his partner.
Because she died,
Unique disappeared.
Because she died,
Vulcan lost himself in fantasies
Because she died,
Bill left the legion.
And because she died,
I gave up my own will to Caesar.
I would follow every order, every task, in fear of ending up like her. He had me, using the scuttle to carry me farther and farther away from who I was. I followed him, into war, and into the fire. Oh Ember, how you would have loved that fire.
Should I do a little “explained” thing of these in November? Hehe..
Image warning: blood
Characters drawn as cats, but written as humans
Story warnings: murder, ghosts, Fallout New Vegas spoilers?
Cyrus couldn’t breathe. Breathless, just like the body in a checkered suit that lay motionless in front of him. This was their doing, they knew they’d killed him, they remembered it, but it was hard to process.
It was revenge, sure, but it’s not like Benny was going to fight back now. He was shocked. Why would he? Cyrus needed the platinum chip… and he just couldn’t get that ghostly, female voice to stop berating him. Why did she want him dead? They weren’t sure. But now at least he could get the job he was here to do, he was now able to return the platinum chip.
Holding it up, shiny, bloodied, they could see their own reflection. Was it? He didn’t like it. But behind him he could see a woman, smiling, like she’d just won the jackpot.
“We’ve done it. You’ve done it. We have something worth more than caps, more than gold, the key to Vegas. It’s better than every once of riches this place has.”
