watch yourself

indie fallout 3 brotherhood outcast oc

[outcastedbrother]

wandercr:

     “We learned about war, but it was never in a good light. Honestly, I don’t think I’d want to be a soldier. That seems like a heavy burden to bear. I just want to find my dad, and then I – I don’t know. I guess he might have an idea.” Even as a young girl, she’d been naturally gentle. She handled things, people included, with the utmost care. It made her a bit of a pushover, but Eliana would rather be that than someone unpleasant.

    Whatever Jared claimed to be, he had shown her nothing but kindness. That was enough to make her disbelieve his words, though only slightly. He was still different, but that didn’t make him any less HUMAN.

   “Don’t you ever think that maybe there needs to be more people willing to speak before shooting? If the wastes are such a living hell, why make it worse? Aren’t we ALL after survival?” Her pacifistic views clearly didn’t fly out in the ‘real world’, but, if enough people felt the same, they could make a difference. War had torn them apart in the first place – and two centuries later, it was doing the same.

    “I’m sure I sound ridiculously naive. I’m having a bit of a hard time coming to terms with the reality of this place. I was always told that the world outside the vault was uninhabitable. —- Maybe I was silly for believing that, too.”

     “From what I’ve seen, not many want to be a soldier. I personally wouldn’t want to be anything but. Suppose it’s because I grew up trained to be one. When you’re not given an option, I suppose you eventually just accept and fit your role.” A shrug. “As far as I’m concerned, there are some of us of which do not deserve survival. Natural selection didn’t see fit to wipe them out. The way I see it, sometimes we have to act as natural selection. Clean up the junk leftover.” 

     “When there is no longer any resistance, then we can work at peace. So long as there is dangerous tech out there and dangerous people wanting their hands on it to try to destroy the world again, there will never be peace.” So he says, and yet what exactly would the Brotherhood do if they had all the tech the world had to offer hoarded? Would they use it for peace? They would never destroy it, that’s for sure. But those are questions he would never ponder. It’s not up to him to be worried about that. He puts his blind trust in the group that raised him; they’re all he knows. To second guess the Brotherhood would be to second guess his entire life and his own existence. 

     “I believe the vault might have had a good point. In the case of those who dwell within them anyways.” He pauses to finish off his dinner and shake his head a little. “For people raised in a pacifistic manner and in a rather pacifistic environment, walking out into the wastes would be like entering Hell. Full of murderers and drug addicts. Policed by a multitude of factions all in it for themselves. Cross the wrong person and you’re dead. Say the wrong thing that ticks someone off? You’re dead. Hell, live and someone is going to want you dead whether you do anything or not.” 

     “If you’re used to safety, love, and care, then the wastes would be almost utterly uninhabitable if that is the expectation. You’d be really lucky to find a place free of taint. Nothing comes free up here, and mostly everything that isn’t paid in some form of currency is paid in blood.”

[outcastedbrother]

monachopsiiis:

     ❝ turd sandwich. ❞ a very solemn conformation. ❝ just remember that      for next time, mr shoot first. ❞ it’s not very likely that there’d be more       than one imaginative raider, but hey maybe there is an entire camp full      of poets that are undiscovered yet. the thought itself is enough to make      her snort again before she pulls it back in to continue with the rest of the      conversation. ❝ i like to think i’m on their good side, so far no one’s tried      to use me for target practice. that’s a win, yeah? and they seem like cool      cats for the now anyway. ❞ 

     “I’ll try. I make no promises.” A chuckle passes him. He hardly would give enemies the chance to shoot such glorious word craft his way. Made for less chance of him becoming yet another casualty swept away by the wasteland. There’s another slight snort at how she spoke of the Brotherhood. “I suppose you’re referencing the useless group that holes themselves up in the Capital and calls themselves the Brotherhood. They’re about the worst example of what we are. Our mission was not to hold a crusade against Mutants and accept those not born into our ranks into our ranks. We’re here for the recovery of pre-war tech. If you wanted to meet the real Brotherhood; the ones whom the assholes holed up in the Capital call ‘Outcasts’ are the ones you want to see. Albeit, we’re not too friendly to outsiders.”

[outcastedbrother]

wandercr:

      “Who are we to say that one life is worth more than another?” Eliana protested. The way Jared described killing made him seem almost robotic in nature. As if he was built for one thing only. Eliana understood the need to kill for survival, but she couldn’t begin to fathom ever taking joy in the loss of life. Junkies, mutants, slavers – they all had as much of a right to live as she did, right?  

      She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and managed to choke down another bite of ant meat, using the silence as an opportunity to think. “I can’t imagine myself that way. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to. Being raised in a vault makes me too different. Too soft-hearted.” The wasteland jaded people. It made them tough and hard and oh so distant. 

      “I’m not unwilling to fight for my life. I’ve done it already. I still don’t think that killing people, or even what most might consider ‘things’, is okay. Maybe one day I’ll be able to sleep at night, knowing what I’ve done to other people, but I won’t ever take their passing lightly.” She wasn’t a girl set to automatic. Her softness made her vulnerable, but it was also valuable in a world where everyone was at each other’s throats. Eliana refused to turn herself off and forget what she was doing. It would ruin her more than any amount of kills ever could.

      “I’m sorry. You and I just aren’t the same, but that’s okay. This stuff is easier for you, but I can’t allow it to be too easy for me.” At that, she returned to picking at her dinner, guilt gnawing at her stomach. Not being bothered by death didn’t make him a bad person, not in her eyes. It simply wasn’t what Eliana had in mind for herself. They were very different, and there was nothing wrong with that. Chances were, he’d gotten the better end of the stick, anyway.

     “I guess there’s a rather large difference between being born in the Brotherhood to being born nigh anywhere else. Suppose in the Vaults killing would be considered the worst thing you could possibly do, wouldn’t it?” He stares over the ant meat in his hands. Thoughts went through his mind, one after the other. Thinking over his words. His point of view. The information he was being given by her end of the conversation. 

     “I suppose they teach you what a military is. Doubt they know anything about what goes on out here, but the Brotherhood started out as a branch of the military. Every one of us is trained in such a way. Passed down through our generations. You’re not supposed to become a part of the Brotherhood; you’re born into it.” He motions to her. “You’re an example of why we can’t let people in from outside our ranks. You have to have nerves of steel, ironic as that may sound.”

     “There’s a definitive discrepancy between being born and raised to kill and being born and raised to function in society. In a sense, we both have things the other never properly will. You with a killers instinct, and myself with the ability to fit in and socialize. I dislike even bargaining with others, really. It all serves no use to me. I’d sooner vaporize anything in the way than talk reason with it. I seem to be the last man to go to for a ‘decent’ conversation.” 

     He leaves his observations to hang in the air and sets to eating his food. Born and raised to kill versus born and raised to function among others. He didn’t envy that kind of life. He actually liked his. From what he came to understand, the old military used to risk their lives so that people like her could live in peace. Of course, once a soldier, that’s who you are forever. Once you start to live like one, you are one. Or so old records he’d found showed. No going back once the choice was made. Almost made him resent the fact he never had the choice. Would he have chosen differently if he was given the choice? Even he can’t answer that.

[outcastedbrother]

I’ve been holding off on this one for a while so; starter call!

Will be based in the Capital Wastes unless you want to hmu for something else. I have a verse for New Vegas, and since I see it becoming apparent, I even do have a modern verse.

[outcastedbrother]

monachopsiiis:

      ❝ cross my heart. ❞ she can’t help but snort a small laugh in return, what        a dork, before nodding slowly, an almost thoughtful expression on her face.        there were some merits to shooting first, and while that worked for some,        even was more fond of a good ol’ baseball bat to the skull. ❝ yeah, that’s       true but at the same time, where’s the fun in that? once in a while someone       actually comes up with a unique insult. like turd sandwich, not in those words       but i laughed for  a solid five minutes. brotherhood you say? they’re no fun,       no offence, but it does make sense. ❞

     “Turd sandwich?” He repeats it, almost incredulously. People actually use that as an insult? He doesn’t bother to try to stop the laughter that escapes him. When he calms it, he shakes his head. “Alright, if that’s the insult, I can see pause in killing, if only to laugh at the poor idiot who shoved it your way.” Jared would have laughed if it happened to him, while one of his robots would likely have shot the perpetrator for him. Go figure. He did catch on to her comments about the Brotherhood, and a derisive snort escapes him. “For the Brotherhood, it depends which side you’re on what your experience will be.”

[outcastedbrother]

monachopsiiis:

      ❝ y’know, there might actually be some solid advice in there but at       same time, it was a dirty old can. ❞ her hands both raised in a sort        of well ‘what can you do about it’ gesture, seemingly shrugging it of       but still for a chat that started with sarcasm, there was some food        for thought. ❝ besides, i’ve heard a lot worse from actual people and       it’s not like it lingers. thick skin, my dad always said. ❞

     “No kidding.” Cracking a grin for once, whether it was because he was actually amused or simply because it was the right social cue (god forbid he be amused by human conversation, really), he continued. “My father was always more keen to pass the ‘shoot first, deal with issues never’ ideology down the line. Lowers the life expectancy of bullshit.” A careful note to use father. “Also helps when you’re essentially raised to be military about everything. But what the Brotherhood does and doesn’t do isn’t much of anyone’s direct business but our own. And my corner of the Brotherhood is especially... Mm.. I don’t really have a word for it. Pity.”

[outcastedbrother]

Literally changed next to nothing, but it’s the minor improvements to the theme that have me happy w/ it once again. Thinking of doing more stuff here but I’ll probably wait for the dash to be active before I raise my head again. If I’m awake.

[outcastedbrother]

monachopsiiis:

         ❝ well of course! ❞ like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, did he          not listen? still evan plans to continue, even if the other was sarcastic,          probably just to spite him for it actually. ❝ calling me filthy names is          one thing, but then bringing dogmeat into it? no sir, i have a limit. i had          team it a lesson. ❞

     “Yeah, makes sense.” A shrug is given in response. Why is he even wasting his time talking to someone? Maybe it’s because all his searching has yielded him nothing and he’s bored. “Most will stick up for whom they consider family, even if they do not stick up for themselves on their own. Though, a suggestion to you, you should probably prioritize killing cans that insult you in the future. Clearly they’re not worth the existence they have.” Advice? Taking a sarcastic comment too far? Even he’s not entirely sure.

[outcastedbrother]

monachopsiiis:

( open. )

       ❝ well actually it was a can of pork ‘n beans, but you should        still see the other guy. ❞ she cut her hand up something fierce        trying to get the tin open, was it worth it in the end? well the         foods all gone. 

     “By ‘other guy’, I’m going to assume you mean the can?” How he got himself into this one, well. Really, it’s a mystery. Whenever he ended up near another being he was almost tempted to blame some divine force that was out to hate him. So of course, he turns to the slight sarcastic way of going about things. Very well hidden, judging by the fact his tone is steady without a hint to the fact he’s dropping sarcasm on the other.

[arizonakiller]

And she listened to him. She had never had a chance to talk to a Brotherhood operative like this: just that scribe girl that turned hostile against her. An extended conversation with the Brotherhood about their ideology, their passions, their motivations…

Ideology.

To Araceli, few things were more important than ideology. Not blood, money, armies, even life-giving water. Ideology was the building block of countries, after all. Her hand found itself covering her mouth, a giggle becoming laughter.

Useless.

How can people be this useless? By Casear, I don’t understand.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just- this is too much, oh Mars it’s too much!” she responded. If she was pissing him off, well, that was just perfect at this point. “I’ve been… very curious about your lot for a while now. Your Brotherhood, your beliefs…”

“You’re all a force to be reckoned with, I’ll give you that. But what use is an army without a belief? I mean… why shouldn’t people know how to build a Plasma Rifle if they devote it to a cause? Rebuild this land ruined 200 years ago with an army backed by well-armed troops. Use the technology to help bring new life to this world, grow crops and make water drinkable once more…”

“But all you want to do is hoard it for yourself indefinitely. No ideology, no soul. You’re not the kind of people the world needs to get itself rolling again.”

[outcastedbrother]

     “Belief? That’s the kind of bullshit that causes wars. There is no ideal world anymore. There never was. All humans truly believe in is fighting. They believe in constant conflict. If you took a second to look around you, you’d see it. All the factions? Constantly fighting? Humanity as a whole could have came together to fix this mistake of a world we live in, but what did they do? Fight. Nothing but bloodshed. An eye for an eye made the world go blind, and blind it stumbles to continue on the same path. The lot of people are useless. The only direction they see is violence.” 

     “I am no different. I was raised to participate in this perpetual faction war. Into bloodshed I was born, from bloodshed will I die. That’s as simple as it is, and it’s how it will be for any and all after me. People can try to hide and be pacifistic, but there will always be some brainless moron who wants to kill his own kind instead of help them. There’s no hope for humans, and until humans can exhibit the ability to be pacifistic and get along, they should not be given the tools to be violent and destructive.” 

     “Or, at the least, keep the worst of those weapons hidden from those who wouldn’t use them properly. Keep them safe among people who pass down the knowledge of it through generations. The dangers, what these weapons can cause, and the importance of keeping it out of the general wasters hands. The day people can reach peace, is the day a plasma rifle is no longer needed. Which, I think we both know, will never happen. But you ‘believe’ whatever it is you want. There’s no stopping other people from doing things, even if they are stupid or even suicidal. It’s one of the earliest lessons I learned.”

     A lot of what he said was hypocritical, but he’d done what he could to cover it. He wasn’t denying he was any different from the violent humans that wandered. He can’t deny he hasn’t shot first on most occasions. But his observations can also not be denied. The truth was something everyone had to face at one point or another. And even if she denied his words here and now, or tried to argue them, she’d either eventually have to accept it, or die a fool. Those were the choices all humans had. 

     Pity many of them died fools. But at least they didn’t die with weaponry far beyond their minimal comprehension in hand. The only ones worthy of that were the Brotherhood, albeit they were as deep entrenched in violence and killing as the rest of the world. Not that Jared denied being a part of the problem. Simply objectively stating it. He wasn’t going to really be an active part of the solution, either. If people wanted to solve it, fine. Don’t expect him to be the one to make the first god damned move.

[outcastedbrother]

I should do stuff here, but I just recently bought Halo Anniversary & Reach so I’m going to go get into Halo. Spent most of my time up setting up to be able to play while at the computer so. Gonna play. Might be super scarce here continually; apologies. Maybe I’ll come back w/ a starter call?? Who knows--

[outcastedbrother]

Should I redo my theme??? Maybe. idk?? I redid out voidlingisms & scxuting & scxpeisms this morning sooooo. Should I match them here??? Maybe?? I really don’t know. I should also maybe do a starter call. Maybe. So many maybes I need guidance rip

[outcastedbrother]

wandercr:

      Her dinner was accepted with trembling hands, fear and anxiety clearly etched into the lines of her face. Her reluctance to kill hadn’t faded yet. The nightmares she’d had, just since her escape, had been enough to wake her in a cold sweat. Eliana couldn’t imagine that continuing her spree of violence and mayhem would provide much assistance to her swiftly dwindling mental health. Yet, it seemed as if she was left with no other options – not a single choice. 

      Dad was right about this place. I shouldn’t be here.

    A tentative bite was taken from the ant meat, her lip curling slightly at the taste and texture. Okay, so vault rations were better than that. She swallowed the food as quickly as she could, then finally spoke again, “T-there are an awful lot of things out there that will want me dead.” Her stomach did a flip, be it from anxiety or nausea – she wasn’t quite sure. Her eyes roved over the crude drawings, committing as many details as she could to memory. Super mutants, centaurs, mirelurks, behemoths. Eliana sure as hell hadn’t learned about any of those in the vault. So much for algebra now.

     She took another few seconds to eat and mull over his advice in full. Murder wasn’t a crime outside, it was a simple fact of life. That left a singular question in her mind: who would she be, after navigating the wastes? 

     “I’ve killed before,” she admitted. “I’m just not sure sure I can continue to. I have such horrible nightmares. I can’t even sleep. How am I supposed to get over something like that? I’m not a violent person. I don’t hurt others.” Sans a few fights she’d gotten into when she was younger, Eliana had never been one to inflict pain upon anybody, no matter how they treated her. 

      “I don’t want to be like everyone else out here. I don’t want to be what I’m not.” She’d seen how hollow some people appeared. She didn’t want to become empty, alone. There had to be another way. Not everyone was out to get her, it couldn’t be. A heavy sigh slipped through her lips, the corners of her mouth flicking downwards in an aggravated look. “Is surviving out here even worth it?” For all Eliana knew, her father could be dead and gone. If that was the case, she had nothing.

     Something about her words didn’t settle right with him. He could pinpoint it exactly, and he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that fact; or the implication he took from her words either for that matter. ‘Be like everyone else out here’. He was a part of that everyone else, and from what he could take from what she was saying, she meant it in a more negative manner. He could hope he was wrong, but there was doubt stinging his mind. He gave pause; thinking it over a moment, before he spoke again, half eaten dinner in his hands. 

     “I’m not sure I can give you a proper answer, considering I actually enjoy the act of killing.” He could stand, of course, to be more specific about it, but that stood in the way of the fact that ultimately, he liked what he did. He was fine with it, and for that matter he’d easily take part in it just for the sport of it. As if he hadn’t already with the mutants. Kill streak counts, kill counts within themselves, the lot of it with his brothers. And he never felt a single ounce of regret the entire time.

     “I’ve never felt regret. I’ve never had a single nightmare over anything I’ve done. Mostly because I never felt I did anything wrong. Life isn’t precious when you waste it. And the people and things out here that attack you on sight? They wasted theirs. Mutants are no longer human. They don’t deserve the same rights as we do. They’re mindless, violent brutes. Things like feral ghouls? They no longer have a mind. They’re existence is suffering, is it not? The raiders are nothing but low down drug addicts who kill to steal for their next high. They don’t deserve their lives either, if they’re to make such a waste of them.” 

     A cold view, but one he grew up being taught. Trained to fight and kill. To despise the creatures, mutations and even other humans that roamed the wastes. The only ones he should like are those within the Brotherhood, and even then his compassion is stretched thin. He was, what could be considered, the polar opposite of her. Funny how she’d even take his opinion to heart. She really shouldn’t, in his mind. 

     “If you put value into your own life, surviving out here is worth it. You have to value yourself and your goals above everything else. See everything else for the waste that it all really is, and shoot to kill instantly. Give them no pain. Half of them don’t deserve it anyways. I grew up out here, never in safety. I know the stereotypical right and wrong, enough so to know it means nothing out here. As far as you are concerned, and the nightmares you’ve spoken of, that’s something that can get better with time and changing your mindset.” 

     “Killing didn’t change who I was. The act didn’t shape my personality. I didn’t let it. It’s another activity to do. Just the same as repairing robots, building energy weaponry, or even hacking. It’s all the same thing; activities I do on the day to day in order to survive. What I do outside of that and how I chose to interact with others is what shapes me. People put too much weight on killing. As if life is incredibly precious to begin with. It is what you make of it. And if no one else makes good of it, then they very clearly don’t deserve it.”

[outcastedbrother]

systemstxter:

Morrigan’s casing being what it was, the robot didn’t feel Jared’s contact. The robotic casing was really just a housing unit for the AI inside. Meant to walk and talk as the AI needed, much in the same vein as Morrigan could make lights on a dashboard flare up if her programming was installed there. It would take more pressure than a human could apply for the circuits to recognize touch, and even then it would be considered a threat not to Morrigan but to her housing.

Regardless, the AI recognized the gesture for what it was meant to convey. Not often, but frequently enough, her designer would forget either himself or what she was and ruffle her hair after a successful program test or if she correctly grasped the meaning of a nuance of human communication. It was…strange, the robot decided, the range of mimicry emotions memories over a century old brought up. Stranger still that her emotional programming would react to such contact.

Ah! Of course. It was not the contact itself, but the prospect of working once again with and for humans. Satisfied with her analysis, Morrigan put on hold looking over why sadness was one of the emotions chosen by her program once she and Jared were on their way and out of the lab.

Morrigan blinked up at Jared, and a light whirr may have been audible after his question. “Morrigan understands. This one is to remain with Jared if leaving home of Brotherhood Outcasts. While interacting with other Brotherhood Outcast personnel, Morrigan will act within programming parameters.” The robot titled her head to the side. “Not enough information on other Brotherhood Outcast personnel to determine if request is fair. More data is required before inquiry can be properly answered.”

This time, her facial recognition and expression software working in response to Jared’s smile, Morrigan gave a small grin. “If Jared is unsure of the safest evacuation path, Morrigan knows the way!”

     Of course she lacked the information on the other Outcasts. Jared was tempted to iterate the dangers of human nature, but wisely chose not to on the grounds that he might be encased in that analysis should he choose to share it, despite his personal feelings on the matter. Humans were brash and very much irrational and unpredictable based off of their emotions. Jared didn’t trust his and did his best to never let them cloud his judgement, but it was possible. Especially with rage.

     There’s a direct pause from Jared when she talks about the safest evacuation path. He was just going to go back to his camp really. A whistle left him and a resounding beeping was heard; a Sentry catching back up. The robot stopped to scan Morrigan, before moving a little behind Jared and Morrigan, seemingly satisfied with whatever it got out of the scan. For the most part, it was the programming Jared had done for the robot. But those were details there weren’t very needed just then.

     “Unfortunately, I don’t think there’s much need to take the safest route. I took that guy there with me to make sure any route was the safe route. That and keeping a plasma rifle on me at all times also helps quite a bit.” There’s a slight chuckle as he shakes his head. “For the most part, I think the area is still clear. I wasn’t in there for too long. I doubt there’s anything out here that hasn’t been killed by me or the Sentry already. Not to mention, I don’t think you quite know where my camp is that I set up.” 

     Unless there was a means to monitor the outside. He’d have to assume there was, if she knew a safe path out. The word safe almost made him want to laugh, all things considered. He never felt he was in any danger at any given point. Always ready to pull out his rifle at the slightest inclination of any danger and shoot first ask questions never, he’d never really given thought to taking the ‘safest’ route in any situation. Always preferred the direct approach. More fun. 

     “For now, I think we’ll head back to my camp and stay the night out here, since I doubt we’ll cover much ground, if any, packing it in and heading out.”

[outcastedbrother]

I kinda disappeared for a while from here whoops. And then I disappeared for two days from my other blogs I had gone to because I slipped back into League of Legends. I’m going to get to things I owe here, maybe make a starter call, and then attend to my other blogs. Actually, probably will make a blog list on my main and have it linked on all my rp blogs. Might make life easier. And maybe a rewrite of the rules. I’ll be productive today; I swear.

[outcastedbrother]

moraldysplasia:

    Believe it or not (because wow, what a stretch), but he has dealt with similar treatment before from the Brotherhood. That, and worse. It wasn’t to his surprise but THEIRS when the first blast of concentrated energy didn’t put him down; or the second. The cells in his body were little anomalies, reacting fast to injury only if it was critical enough. Lizards had regenerative abilities, and so did he. Apparently. But he’s wizened up from past encounters; has no intention of getting shot if he can avoid it by keeping on his toes with the armored bastard in front of him. 

    “Caps? Pft. Caps won’t do me any good for miles and miles. I’m looking for food.. and medical stuffs. Chems, even. If you haven’t got much of either on you, I get it… but I don’t be able to do any business with you. You understand, yeah?” 

    Legs bend, slowly. Small form lowering itself to a crouch before sliding the head sack over his shoulder and onto dried out soil. “Prepare to be amazed.” It felt like a grand reveal, so he was going to treat it like one. He loosened the binds that secured his finds and drew it open to show off the assortment of cells he had: microfusion and the smaller energy cells meant for pistols, as well as scrap and parts that belonged to several plasma rifles he had found wrecked and scattered. He’d made an attempt to make at least one functioning gun out of all the waste, to no avail. “You guys can always go for batteries, right? I think there’s also like, stuff to make a gun in here? Found bits and pieces scattered. It’s like a big metal puzzle I can’t figure out at all.” 

    Yeah, he was still approaching their conversation from that ‘dumb’ angle. If he carried the stuff all the way back home with him, he’d be able to reap something functional from his bag. Maybe two somethings, if no one had raided his workshop. Which he doubted. The super mutants he lived among had no interest in getting in the way of his fascination with energy weapons or his hoarding, and they did a swell job of keeping everyone who would potentially be interested in his treasure trove far, far away.

     Boy is he glad for the helmet. The look of utter contempt and disgust that crossed his face would have been such a betrayer. Mood killer perhaps. What isn’t seen can’t hurt anyone. Thankfully it isn’t. There are some things Jared’d prefer to keep going; this deal being one of them. Looking over the bits and pieces, his eyebrows raised. His mind worked over the parts, silently identifying and labeling each one, breaking down how to put it together to make the weapon. A few tweaks here and there as well... Yeah, he wanted the parts. Perhaps the cells as well. Recycling only got a man so far.

     “Chems, you said.” Might as well feed the junkie. “Those would likely be the more valuable items to you, I’m going to take a wild guess at.” He had to bite back the ‘fucking’ he almost slipped in. Wild fucking guess. Might have sounded hostile. Which could make this whole thing go over sour. Hell, really, if he got everything he wanted out of this, perhaps he’d let this... thing off. Besides, he wasn’t Lyons’ group. Fuck if he wanted to be angel of the god damned wastes. Let the rest of them rot. Despite his hatred for mutants, this one wanted to trade. And had decent items. Not that there is any respect, perish the thought. 

     “The parts and the microfusions. How much are they worth to you?” He points to the parts and the correct cells. Fuck if he was thinking for anyone other than himself. Honestly, the only reason he touched chems with a ten foot pole was to turn a profit so he could get the stuff that really mattered. As of the current point, he had two of that jet bullshit, a pack of mentants, and a bottle of buff out. Raiders were good for that kind of crap, and he’d snagged it up after ridding the waste of their presence. Of course he did have some purified water and could easily spare a box or two of sugar bombs, but he didn’t really want it to come to that. 

     Although, Jared had it figured that by the end of the deal, he was going to walk away with at least those parts to make the plasma rifle. He could upgrade his own and turn the rest in. Or store them in his personal workshop. Whatever came first, really. Hopefully the latter option. Since he did have to deal with this thing. There was no way he was thinking of the being in front of him in any other manner. There’s nothing human about a god damned mutant. Forsake pieces of shit. Spit on their dead bodies and kick them into a canyon. That’s all they’re good for in his opinion.

[outcastedbrother]

KNOWING YOUR PARTNER WELL CAN POTENTIALLY MAKE WRITING TOGETHER A LOT EASIER.

TAGGED BY: moraldysplasia

[ ★ ] B A S I C S

Name: Talon Pronouns: He/him/his Sexuality:  Loud shrugging Zodiac sign: Sagittarius Taken or Single: Taken Three facts: Transformers has been a huge love of mine for a long time to the point I own a 1′3′’ G1 Coronation Starscream. It took me around 4 years to get a mohawk because I was originally disallowed. I absolutely hate driving and wish I didn’t have to get a license. 

[ ★ ] E X P E R I E N C E

How long (months/years?): I’ve been roleplaying since I was 12. I’m almost 20 now. Platforms you’ve used: Forums, tumblr 
Best experience: Getting out of a really toxic fandom and moving to the places I’m in now tbh. [★] M U S E P R E F E R E N C E S Female or Male: Male  Favorite face: Ian Somerhalder, Chris Pratt and Jensen Ackles *u* 
Least favorite face: Benedict Cumberbatch 
Multi or Single: Single/Dual. Mostly single.

[ ★ ] W R I T I N G P R E F E R E N C E S

Fluff, Angst or Smut: I don’t really prefer any of these. Plots or Memes: I guess plots? Kind of a wing it person, though. Long or Short replies: Long. Definitely long. Jared is the muse in particular that drags this out of me the most and idk why. Best time to write: Late night. Like 12-2am late. 
Are you like your muse(s): I’m actually most similar to my TF2 Scout, Declan. The only thing Jared and I really share is a love for technology. And robots.

[ ★ ] TAGGING: crimsonrxcket confidxntialisms these two b/c I dunno if anyone else is comf w/ getting a tag from me over here |D