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@ranger-a7-blog
Hey there! So, I’ve been caught up with trying to grab a new job and it’s come with a bunch of complications. As such, I haven’t been able to dedicate as much time as I’d like to this blog.
However the dust is beginning to clear along with my schedule, so I’ll be able to come back soon.
See you guys then!
hamilton “ alexander hamilton ” & “ aaron burr , sir ” starters.
001. ❛ my name is [ ] ❜
002. ❛ you gotta fend for yourself. ❜
003. ❛ you could never back down. ❜
004. ❛ the world will never be the same. ❜
005. ❛ me ? i trusted him. ❜
006. ❛ me ? i loved him. ❜
007. ❛ see if you can spot him. ❜
008. ❛ what’s your name , man ? ❜
009. ❛ pardon me . are you [ ] ? ❜
010. ❛ that depends . who’s asking ? ❜
011. ❛ i’’m getting nervous . ❜
012. ❛ i’m at your service . ❜
013. ❛ how’d you do it ? ❜
014. ❛ can i buy you a drink ? ❜
015. ❛ smile more . ❜
016. ❛ you can’t be serious . ❜
017. ❛ show time ! ❜
018. ❛ good luck with that , you’re taking a stand . ❜
019. ❛ what’ll you fall for ? ❜
020. ❛ who are you ? ❜
Reblog if it's okay to tag you in random starters.
“... What do you think of the name Alex?”
The question had caught him by surprise. It sends him back to before he was deployed to Nevada. He and Fawn hadn’t really considered the future of their relationship too much. By the very nature of their professions, death could happen far too suddenly to plan that far ahead. But just before he was shipped out, there was one very serious discussion they’d have for a possible future...If Aiden were to make it through the war, they would attempt to start a family together.He can’t help but smile. In all his time serving in Nevada, that possibility hadn’t crossed his mind. Through the struggles of the war, he was happy just to make it to the next day. But now she was here (much to his own dismay), and though he worried for her safety, he figures thinking about possibly raising a family together couldn’t hurt.“Hmm...Alex Dunnes kinda has a nice ring to it. Unless you want him to take your last name...What if we have a girl?”
snaggletoothed:
❝ born an’ raised there. technically. ❞ — technically he was born in point lookout, which… was close enough to the capital wasteland that it didn’t matter, right ? whatever, he’d been snatched at a young enough age and brought to d.c. that honestly, it REALLY didn’t matter, especially not now. it’s not common for someone to hand weapons off to the mutant, patch taking the gun without question– though the look on his face suggests confusion. what the hell ? had soldier boy lost his marbles or something ? if patch had a list of people who WOULDN’T want to give him a gun, he’d of put ace within the top five. ❝ uhhh–… do i really GOTTA use a gun ? ❞ … a training exercise ? christ. this had to be some sort of stint to make sure patch was able to keep his wife safe or something. it just HAD to be. ❝ can i ask why ? listen– is this ‘bout fawn ? i mean, i get.. bein’ hesitant t’ trust me with yer wife an’ all, but i wouldn’t let nothin’ bad happen t’ her. haven’t yet, either. ‘sides, anythin’ try’na shoot at us don’t know ‘bout my scaly hide bein’ so thick, or that i’ll play meat shield. ❞ patch’s expression is… unsure. he doesn’t mind doing things with ace, so long as the guy didn’t try and pull anything funny. but something about this felt off. he can feel it in his gut, and his scales feel like they’re crawling over his skin. he’ll play along though. the mutant huffs and shoves himself up and away from the sun-baked earth, his knees popping as he rises to his full height. the borrowed weapon is carefully held within his hands as he follows the shorter man, expression stone-like. ❝ i ain’t worried ‘bout it. whatever’s out there better keep an eye out fer us. ❞
“Yeah, the gun’s necessary, trust me.”
He expects it to be jarring. After all, their interactions thus far had been...Less than enjoyable. Needless to say, their personalities clashed. But, as far as Ace saw it, the subject matter was worth putting to the side for now. After all, if his wife trusted this person enough to watch her back, it only meant they’d continue to meet in the future. Thus, burying the hatchet was probably for the best.
“It ain’t about my wife, you don’t have to worry about that.”
He takes another mental note, Patch’s hide was thick enough to stop bullets, or at least so he claims. The mutation certainly came with its benefits. If anything he was glad that Patch was on his side. No, he never doubted his ability to protect Fawn, that’s much farther off from his real goal.
“I just wanted to see how you’d react to an old training drill I was put through when I first enlisted. Y’know, show you how the ‘normies’ do things.”
wastewalking:
@ranger-a7 continued from ❌
Roger surveyed the area through his scope from a safe distance before cautiously moving in, climbing down from the rocks to approach the site of the ambush. He picked carefully through the carnage, checking the dust-covered bodies of several soldiers for any signs of life, but coming up with nothing. The blood on the ground was already dry.
It wasn’t looking good.
And then a quiet shifting noise nearby drew his attention. He tensed up, breath catching in his throat as he lifted his rifle.. But he eased when he spotted a trembling figure on the ground- a wounded ranger, regaining consciousness.
He quickly made his way to the man’s side, kneeling down to assess the damage. The ranger was hanging on by a thread, and even still he fought through his own laboured breath to talk. Roger sighed quietly through his nose and rested a hand gently on the injured ranger’s chest, setting his rifle down with the other. He wasn’t a medic, but he knew enough to stabilize most injuries until more qualified assistance could be sought.
“Roger Bonnefoy, 1st Recon. I’m here to help.”
Oh, thank god...A friendly.
His vision finally focusing on his would-be rescuer, Ace breathes a sigh of relief...that immediately turns into a coughing fit. As the hacking begins to ramp up, he can taste iron in his mouth. It takes a minute for him to catch his breath, but eventually, he’s able to set himself up and fully take in the aftermath of the battle. If it was any consolation they had taken three of the assassins with them, but none of the soldiers he had come here with had made it.
“Poor bastards...”
He attempts to stand but is stopped from a myriad of aches and pains throughout his body. A quick search of his pockets would yield no results. No healing items for him. Much to his dismay, it meant he’d need help to move, and with there only being one other person around meant no one would be able to watch their backs. In all honesty, it might be better for Roger to just leave him there...
“We were on our way to Camp McCarren, but we got hit by a Legion raiding party...Oh, and you can call me Ace.”
Again he attempts to stand but to no avail. He wouldn’t be able to move at all without support.
“I’m glad you found me, but it might be better for you to head off on your own, we’d be sitting ducks up if you tried to help me along.”
&& despite it all…
{ I SURVIVED. }
{ I SURVIVED. }
{ I SURVIVED. }
ergcsum:
Violet had been dividing her time between keeping stock of the supplies they had and visiting checking in with patients, particularly the children (having a puppy with seemed to be calming for them, especially more fussy ones, and Julie had observed that she had a way with the kids) when she’s interrupted by Dogmeat and her pup’s barking, signaling someone approaching them as she’s taking stock with an old clipboard and pen.
‘Jesus Christ. What now?’
She regards him – a ranger, evidently – listening to what he had to say. He had supplies to donate, yet he was injured himself? That seemed off to her, but she didn’t think anyone would be stupid enough to give away supplies when they were in need – not all of it, at least.
“Listen, I’m going to trust you have enough for yourself still, as well, and we’re grateful for the help, but would you like me to at least take a look at that leg for you?” It was yet another busy day, full of people who needed the help of the Followers and keeping track of supplies was important, but she knew she could catch up if needed. With all the bustle at the fort, she figured she could try to take as much of the load off the others as she could, and this man looked like he needed at least some help, “I wouldn’t hear the end of it from Arcade if I just let it be, no matter how busy we are.” she adds, setting aside her clipdoard and pen. As much as she disliked the NCR, she knew the Followers had a duty to help everyone, indiscriminately.
“Don’t worry, I do.”
Typical of any of the Followers, this new face had offered to help him despite how busy they were. Playing the “tough guy” had always drawn the ire of his wife, another doctor, but it was a habit he couldn’t help but abide by especially in situations like this. Most of the fort seemed endlessly preoccupied, and he himself could still walk, so it seemed...wasteful to attempt to treat his flesh wound. The scout, for the most part, was sure there were others in a lot more need than he was, the NCR had its own medics, he could deal.
“Besides, you guys are busy enough right?”
The vibe the stranger was giving off isn’t new to the soldier. The NCR’s presence in Freeside always came with tension, though they had put forth efforts to attempt to help. But more often than not that always seemed to come with more trouble than it was worth. His solution for that: Just help. He couldn’t change the decisions and actions of his superiors, but he could help where he needed to. Speaking of, with most of the fort’s staff tied up and having just finished an assignment an idea springs to mind...
“By the way, do you guys need any help?”
“Patrolling the Mojave almost makes you wish for a nuclear winter”.
Made myself a new userpic
snaggletoothed:
❝ don’t get yer knickers in a twist, soldier boy. i didn’t think ya actually would, but i don’t think you’d blame me fer askin’, would ya ? ❞ well, it wasn’t a question that patch usually took the time to ask– instead relying more on his senses and gut to tell him if an individual was likely to aim and pull the trigger. yet he’d asked this time, more out of an attempt at being humorous or comical, even. seems that fawn’s husband was a little more serious than the mutant had initially assumed. that, or he was just more uptight around patch in general. not that he could be blamed for that. an eyebrow is steadily arched as the question reaches patch’s ears, his face briefly contorting as he struggles to respond appropriately. patch REALLY wants to laugh, or to retort in a sarcastic fashion– but fawn had told him to BEHAVE himself while she was away. the least he could do was THAT. even if behaving wasn’t exactly his forte. ❝ geez– i know i look uncivilized an’ all, but i know how t’ shoot. learned back in d.c. long time ago, not that ya knew. probably a little rusty since i prefer… well. other methods. ❞ specifically his bear trap fist– or just by ripping out someone’s throat with his own teeth. soldier boy didn’t need to know about the second way though, that’d just spook him even more. clawed fingers reach around behind him, the mutant’s back arching some as he withdraws a hidden revolver, the gun being held loosely in front of him. it felt a little funny to hold, given that it’d been quite awhile since patch had used it. his other weapon was currently back within quarry junction, safely hidden amongst the abandoned mining equipment. ❝ only gun i’ve got on me right now. other one’s back home. it ain’t loaded though, an’ i ain’t got many bullets on me. ❞
“Didn’t know you were from the Capital Wasteland. Noted.”
With his question answered, Ace would actually smile to the much taller mutant, seemingly satisfied. The marksman carbine he was carrying is let down from his shoulder and handed to Patch. Upon inspection, he’d find the weapon to be well maintained as if the weapon had come hot off the Gun Runners’ assembly line. Along with the gun, four extra clips are produced and handed forward.
“Good, you can use this then.”
Upon giving the weapon up, Ace would run a quick check of his own revolver. Each chamber seemed to be filled, and he’d take the time to pat down his pockets, each chiming with the sound of the numerous bullets that filled them. Again, seemingly satisfied, with a quick spin the sidearm would be holstered.
“Right. You and I are gonna go over a little training exercise, that’s all. Just want to see how good you really are with a gun.”
Again, it wasn’t exactly the reason he wanted to head out with Patch, but it was a good enough excuse to use for now. Assuming his to-be companion had no complaints, Ace tilts his head to one side, motioning for Patch to follow. he’d point out to the direction they were walking as he made his way forward. “There are some broken down buildings not too far out that we use as a firing range. ‘Bout thirty minutes out. Between you and me, I’m sure we can tackle anything that we come across along the way.”
Sneaks up on him, hugging him from behind.
He’s tense for only a second, but upon realizing just who had taken hold of him, the boy scout lets his guard drop along with a sigh and a smile. He lets his head fall back to lean against hers, allowing himself to get comfortable.“Not bad, you got me.” he muses, legitimately impressed by his wife’s skill with stealth.“How ya doing, hun?”
OC asks: 14, 30, 44
14. What foods does your OC like to eat? What are their least favorite foods?-When not out in the field he loves hearty food, things that help him achieve the oh-so-satisfying feeling of being full. This includes things like various meats (mostly Brahmin Steak), Cram, and Pork & Beans. But when out in the wastes his tastes shift to easily stored items, with a healthy mixture of sweets for morale. This would be things like Fancy Lads, Trail Mix, and Fresh Fruit (when he can get it.) Things he doesn’t like: Bug meat. If completely out of supplies he can cook and eat bloatfly or radroach, but he’ll often avoid it like the plague if he can.30. Do they want to get married? Why or why not? Would they ever want kids? Do they have kids? Why?-He is married! Meet his wife: Fawn. And yes, he would like kids, the American dream and all that. He and Fawn were actually planning to have children provided he survives the war.44. How does your character react/ accept criticism?-Ever since the first time he was smoked during Bootcamp, Ace learned that it was best to shut up and listen to his superiors, whether he agreed or not. This would eventually apply to all forms of criticism. He’ll listen but ultimately keep whatever he decided to actually apply to himself.
snaggletoothed:
this place smelled funny. really, it kinda smelled like a well-used toilet, or maybe a shower ? something where the collective scents of people were forced together into something that was even MORE unpleasant than it already was. the mutant crouches against one of the several buildings that litter the base, his usual companion having disappeared to do something off on her own. that was fine. she could… hopefully take care of herself. but why did she have to leave him HERE, of all places ? from the corner of patch’s eye, he spots a figure moving towards him, the clattering of metal bullets sounding with each step the individual takes. patch finally forces himself to look to the other man, squinting up at him– ah, it’s fawn’s soldier boy. and he’s got his weapon on him ? interesting. even more interesting that he seems… friendly. ❝ howdy. ❞ that’s all the mutant offers in turn, patch’s face devoid of any emotions, save for obvious boredom. ❝ depends. you gonna walk me out into th’ desert then shoot me in th’ head with that thing ? i doubt that’s yer intention, but i can’t be too careful ‘round y’all normies, now. ❞
Normies?
Is that what he thought NCR soldiers were? Or perhaps that was a name he used for non-mutated humans? He can understand, a mutation like his sentences you to scorn, ridicule, and fear. A lifetime of standing out, meaning countless cases of others pointing out how different he was. Regardless the name irks Ace. It’s a reminder why he wanted to have this talk to begin with. Under normal circumstance, he ignored the civilian opinion of the military. No doubt their presence in Nevada and the slow annexing of once independent settlements rubbed many of the populace the wrong way. Even he had his doubts as to their true purpose here in the Mojave. After all, he had joined to protect the NCR citizens, not help it expand. But the war complicated that. Suddenly, the people of the Mojave were NCR citizens, and the threat of the Legion looming over them required the military to protect them. Or, at least, that’s what he told himself.
But as much as he did his best to ignore this, he’d still hear the talk. Passing comments pointed to him and his fellow soldiers. This was the case when it came to his wife and her much taller companion. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop initially, but upon hearing them talk as he passed, he would give in to his curiosity. To say that it didn’t get to him was a lie, and in the case of Patch and Fawn, he felt compelled to at least try to get them to understand. “I’m not gonna shoot you, it’s kinda hard to explain.”
Still a bit awkward in delivery, but it’s the best he can do without giving away the real reason he had approached the lizard-man.
“...Do you know how to shoot a gun?”
[wastewalking] X
Send ‘X’ to find my muse beaten, bloody, and left for dead.
He isn’t sure how much time had passed, but the ambush seemed to have worked. Ace himself isn’t sure if anyone else in the battalion had survived, but he himself is still conscious. For now, at least. The wounded warrior is fighting for every breath, his head still ringing from the bang of the grenade that had thrown him to the ground, unsure of just how many pieces of shrapnel had pierced him. His saving grace was the stimpak he had jabbed into chest just before passing out. It at the very least had kept him from dying. However, if anyone with less than savory intentions found him now, he’d wouldn’t be able to defend himself. Speaking of…He could make the figure of someone approaching in the distance, not too far now. He’d do his best to look around, but his bloody state made it difficult to move around at all. He was truly defenseless. Upon the stranger closing the distance, he’d fight through his labored breathing to address them.“Who…who are you?”
ergcsum liked your post
The scout would walk towards Old Mormon Fort with a limp today. Strapped to his back was a bag full of supplies from a recent successful standoff with the Vipers, who had been ambushing travelers off a nearby road. However, this victory came with a cost. His armor had caught the brunt of the damage from the fight, but a lone bullet had grazed his leg during the exchange. So limp to the followers camp he did.
Upon crossing the gates of the fort, nodding to the guards as he passed, hazel eyes scanned the tents that laid inside the protective walls. The area was busy as usual, the Followers up to their eyes in busy work in their efforts to help the Freeside area. Finally, he’d spot his target: The mohawk donning leader of the New Vegas branch of the Followers of the Apocalypse. She was flanked at all sides by a group of people, all no doubt fighting in vain for her attention, and she more than likely struggling to attend to each of their needs. No way he’d be able to get her attention right now.
So he’d continue searching, scanning for anyone that seemed to have some time to spare. Finally, he’d lay his eyes upon a ginger-haired girl, just across from him. She seemed younger, smaller in height as well, but she also seemed to be someone that wasn’t caught up in something, so he made his way over.
“Hey there, I- agh shit...”
Finally closing the distance, a sudden throbbing in his leg stops him mid-greeting. Throwing his bag down in front of her, he’d look down to catch sight of the blood that had seeped past the bandage he had applied earlier. Not good. He’d quickly reach into the bag, producing a stimpak; one of many, stabbing the needle just above his wound. A loud hiss would signal its contents being emptied into the afflicted area, and a sigh of relief would escape the ranger, relieved to feel the pain subsiding.
“Sorry ‘bout that, anyway, I’ve got some supplies to donate.”
snaggletoothed liked your post
He looks like he’s dressed for war. Draped in his veteran armor, save for the helmet and mask, the clinking noise made from the various bullets he had stuffed away in his pockets is enough to give away his approach to the much taller man. Strapped to his back is a marksman carbine, not the most welcoming sight, especially for someone who might not know him very well. But, it was something he deemed necessary to bring. Still, as he approaches, once Patch does catch sight of him, he’d be greeted with a nonchalant wave.
“Hey.”
He isn’t exactly sure how to approach, given how ‘intense’ the topic he wanted to cover was. It’s a bit awkward but it’s all he can really give him. Fawn didn’t seem to be around, so this seemed like the perfect time to at least attempt. He’d have to be quick in disarming the clearly uneasy air between them, after all, he was armed to the teeth, not the best way to start a conversation. He’d hope that starting nonchalantly would help in disarming any tension, but it only served to do the opposite.
“You wanna take a walk with me?”
Pour choice of words, Aiden...
