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                   IT’S A SECRET TUCKED INSIDE MY CHEST, WITH THIS HEART                                     OF MINE THAT’S GUILTY NOT REMORSEFUL.

                            THERE IS LOVE THAT DOESN’T HAVE A PLACE TO REST                                                    BUT IT WOULD HAVE BURIED YOU IF IT HAD SETTLED ON YOUR                                                                                      SHOULDERS.        ©

[contrariian-archive]

CONTRARIIAN ;   “ EXCAVATING DOWN, YOU’D FIND THE DROWNING & THE DROWNED—AND THEN THERE’S US, BABE. YOU COULD WALK TO OUR MEMORIAL, BUT IT’S POURING, AND IT ENDS HOW YOU’D EXPECT. ”   //  an independent, selective, & private multimuse feat. NORA BAKER, a railroad-aligned sole survivor from fallout 4. revamped 12/21. loved by puck. ©

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piecestorn​:

        he follows her gaze to where deacon sits against against one of the old stone walls, one knee tucked against his chest.  max nods in his direction & the other agent returns the gesture. supporting shelby with his arm, max leads her out of hq.

        the sun is just beginning to dip beneath the ruined skyline as they approach the river; on the horizon, smoke billows from the wreckage that, even now, illuminates the shoreline. he glances at shelby when she takes his hand, obediently opening his palm so she can tap out her message, and exhales in amusement at her laugh.

        ‘ you never know.  they could come back as vengeful spirits. ’  his free hand darts out to poke at her side, a quick tickle of her ribs and a wide, warm grin.   ‘ if they even knew what hit them.  tom says deacon and charmer put on uniforms and were in and out before the brotherhood suspected a thing. ’   if he’d heard it from deacon, max would never have believed it. but for all of tom’s eccentricities and paranoia, he’s not one to embellish the truth.

        ‘ i would say that i hope our final assault goes that well, but my hopes aren’t that high. ’   and honestly, he carries just enough anger at the institute that he wouldn’t mind a bit of a fight. blanchet may be dead, but she wasn’t even the worst that the institute has to offer. it’s a pristine prison full of monsters, and nothing they offer makes it any less worthy of destruction.

A  SURPRISED YELP ERUPTS FROM THE SMALL GIRL, snickering as she fights off his hand and covering her sides; making way for him to poke at other ticklish points on her.

as short lived as that moment was, though, it didn’t stop her from tilting her head. questioning what he said about the groups attack; a doubtful frown proceeds her features, and she shook her head. it sounded impossible in retrospect, couldn’t argue with tom’s story though. if it was true, that was a hell of a thing.

she froze at the very mention of their organizations final assault and suddenly anxiety ― anger and the lust for vengeance boiled inside her once more. coming out externally as fear. shelby was enraged at the institute if not as much as him but had every reason to fear them. 

she didn’t want to lose anyone else, especially the main three out of how many she cared so deeply about. brooke was the start of a wound, but max? or nora, even deacon? that would be rubbing all types of irritants on the wound, more painful than anything she could imagine.

quickly taking his hand once again, she taps a simple question,  

“  ARE YOU GOING TO BE PLAYING A PART IN ALL THAT?  ” 

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The thing about having multiple blogs is I follow people sometimes on the wrong ones and if I've done that I'm so sorry.

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piecestorn​:

he reaches over and brushes hair out her face, his touch tender. even with the prydwen down, the hq agents have been running themselves ragged trying to keep watch & prepare for their final assault on the institute. charmer and deacon had returned to the church, reported the success of red glare to desdemona—unnecessary, given the visibility of the outcome—and then charmer had turned around and immediately left. back into the lion’s den.

ticon gone, hq compromised… the railroad was in a sad state. it was going to take a lot of time to rebuild, once everything was said and done.

maxwell sees the tears, the outburst of anger, and wipes the offending liquid away with one calloused thumb, though he says nothing about it. he won’t make her talk. instead…

’ would you like to see? ’   he jerks his head towards the stairs to the catacombs.  ‘ carrington’s asleep, he won’t know we’re ignoring his orders to rest.  and you deserve the catharsis of it.  they definitely made a statement; deacon didn’t give charmer deliverer for nothing. ’  tommy whispers had been a good kid, and max is glad to know that the silent-but-deadly hand-cannon has found new life.

mostly, he just can’t bear to see shelby—as close to a daughter as he’s ever had, closer than the ghosts that dr. blanchet put in his head—in pain, and do nothing about it. watching makes him antsy; it’s why he’s a runner. so he offers her his arm with a winning smile, like some old world movie star.  ‘ well? shall we? ’

THE QUIET SOUND OF ‘ THE END OF THE WORLD ‘ BY SKEETER DAVIS fills their silence as shelby lifts her sights onto him, thinking long about this. after a while she’d nod her head and use her left hand to push herself off the medical bed; neglecting to remember that her left foot was just a tad injured as well. she winced, glared at the limb and rolled her eyes.

carrington wouldn’t mind one peek, would he? even if he did, shelby sure didn’t give a shit what he thought was best. she respected the doctor but sometimes he can be  ― so damn irritating.

limping and hopping from one leg to the other as she walked with maxwell, shelby finally decides to lift her tough shit act and just lean on the man for support. but that doesn’t stop her from turning her head around mid way there; taking a wistful look at her pompadour wearing companion.

deacon was acting off, more than usual. it worried her when she knew why. but charmer knew how to handle herself, handle the institute; shelby wasn’t going to worry...much. honestly, shelby wanted to speak to him but her voice was still recovering from her screaming  ―  yelling, and the explosion; it was surprising she was even able to get as many words out to max as she did. 

                                     from here though, she’d have to remain silent.

 stepping out of the church, and toward the waterfront; shelby took great vengeful pleasure in seeing the smoke from where they were currently, her expression remained emotionless though. resting at a neutral state. she took max’s hand, encouraging him to keep it palm up and started tapping it with a single finger. morse code was important in their line of work, so she hoped he knew it.

“ DO YOU THINK THERE WILL BE RETALIATION ?  ” shelby signed, sarcastic as ever. not taking her eyes off the ruined blimp; a snort and then a coughing fit   ― and finally a wheeze leaving her airway. even laughing at her own pettiness was pushing it, she guessed.

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Hey, while Shelby is a minor, I am personally not comfortable writing with a younger audience. That's why I'm 18+ so please please PLEASE do not follow me or interact if you're underage. Thank you.

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piecestorn​:

       MAX HAD HOPED THAT THE RAILROAD would never suffer a tragedy like the fall of the switchboard—hopes that were dashed when charmer appeared in a flash of blue light to announce that the brotherhood was about to descend on the church.  fewer losses this time, thanks to their woman on the inside, but that doesn’t make the deaths sting any less.

       and it doesn’t ease the pain of seeing shelby injured, either.

       he smiles reflexively at her comment, though he doesn’t look up from changing his own bandage. he got off easier than her by a mile—a few grazes, nothing that a stimpak couldn’t fix, but they don’t have any stims to spare, so he has to care for his wounds the old-fashioned way.  ‘ good to see that your wit is intact, ’  he says, tying off the bandage and finally looking at her.  ‘ have you taken a look at the flaming wreckage of the brotherhood yet? your partners did a number on that airship. ’  

          maxwell thinks he should feel some amount of guilt—there must have been innocents in the brotherhood, people who could have changed if given the chance, and he should regret their deaths—but instead, when he’d gone up and gazed out over the water all he’d felt was vindictive pleasure. the same pleasure, he realizes, that he’d felt when he’d put that energy blast through eugenie blanchet’s head.

“    ...NO I HAVEN’T.   ” 

shelby responds, sorrowful, taking her time in making triple sure what was left of her right arm was generously disinfected and bandaged; still feeling the sting of several stims going into her bloodstream to try and stop her from bleeding out. even if it wasn’t fully there anymore, she could still feel it. 

phantom pain, they called it, and while it should shock her that she was already experiencing it; it didn’t. the poor synth was absolutely destroyed, numb even. 

slow blinks and heavy sighs aside, she swings her legs over the side of the medical bed and sat up instantly feeling herself get light headed and sick to her stomach; if not from the fact she just quite literally pushed her own body to it’s limit in one action, then from the full realization of what happened hitting her all over again.

she shook it off, wishing to not think of it any further.  “     got what they had coming to them, though. the brotherhood knew what they were doing when they even graced the idea of an attack.  ” shelby didn’t even bother to meet the other’s eyes when she continued, 

  “   they knew it was a declaration of war; just didn’t expect us to fight back.   ” she told him, flicking what little rubble was on her overalls, “   that was their last mistake, i guess.  ”

it seemed the girl was nowhere near remorseful as well, all she felt was anger and spite toward the brotherhood, if not more than how she felt toward the institute. even so, ticon was still blown to bits.

                                   ―  and brooke was no where to be found.

a tear or two fell at that reminder, instinctively shelby raised her injured arm  ― the most dominant nonexistent hand before taking notice of her mistake and slamming her other fist on the bed, irritated.

[championraised]

   LIFE ISN’T BASED ON FAIRYTALES OR HAPPY ENDINGS.

indie elder scrolls multi-muse. slain by max / sailor.

©

[revoltraised]

big news: local teenage synth loses her fucking arm !!