I love this blog so much! Keep up the goodness. Can I have a companions react to a young!sole complaining that their feet hurt and asking to be carried
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Cait: “Well, I’m not gonna feckin’ carry you. I ain’t a caravan you can just ride when you get sleepy.” She glowers. She almost looks a little offended. Between her touch aversion and what she perceives as laziness, it’s not a good time.
Codsworth: “Oh, well… Mx. Sole, I appreciate the request, I’m just not sure I could…” He gestures, rather embarrassed, to his claws and rounded torso. “However, you’re welcome to try?”
Curie: “Oh, Sole, I-” She spreads her hands, looking sheepish. “I wish I could help, but do not think I am capable of carrying you. I feel as though we would both…” She giggled. “… topple over.”
Danse: “You have two feet,” he says sternly. “You can walk just fine on your own.” For all his grumpiness, he is weak to pleading. If Sole begs and whines enough, they’d end up sitting on his power-armored shoulder.
Deacon: “Well, I mean, my back isn’t what it used to be, but.” He squats, holding his arms back. “Hop aboard, kiddo.” Sole climbs on, piggyback, and Deacon winces. “Okay, maybe, maybe- ow, okay- ow, ow, off!”
Dogmeat: Yes. He is a war pup now. So long as Sole is small enough - he can be ridden into battle. If Sole’s a bit too big, he now pulls a sled. A chariot. It is magnificent.
Hancock: He arched one hairless eyebrow. “Alright,” he shrugs. In the blink of an eye, he swoops down and hoists up Sole, the adolescent letting out a sharp yelp. “What?” Hancock smirks, adjusting Sole on his shoulder so Sole is carried like a sack of potatoes. “You didn’t say how I had to carry you.”
Nick Valentine: He sighs, but it’s a good-natured sigh. “You’re lucky I’ve got a soft spot for you, squirt.” He leans down and hoists up Sole. He carries them with his hands under their back and knees, Sole’s arms around his neck.
MacCready: “You can walk just fine,” he scolds. ”I didn’t have anyone to carry me when I was your age. In fact, back when I was in Little Lamplight…” He goes on. And yes, he just did that. He just pulled a Dad.
Piper: “Sure, sure.” She nods. “But, I mean. To make it fair, you’ve got to promise that you’ll carry me at some point. Just to be egalitarian about it.” She bats her eyelashes innocently. “Where are you going?”
Preston: “Sure thing, sport.” He kneels down and picks Sole up on his back. The piggyback may be tiring, but it’s also kind of enjoyable, in a way. Preston likes kids, and there’s a part of him that thinks it’s kind of sweet.
Strong: “STRONG WILL CARRY.” He hoists Sole up and sits them down on his shoulders, Sole’s arms around his head, legs around his neck. Strong is surprisingly okay with this arrangement.
X6-88: He stops in his tracks, fixing Sole with a strange, sunglass-shielded glare. “No,” he says. Then continues walking. Sole suddenly doesn’t feel so tired anymore.
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