❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
we're not kids anymore.
Origami Around
NASA
Janaina Medeiros
wallacepolsom
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Keni
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PR's Tumblrdome
RMH
d e v o n
noise dept.
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
titsay
shark vs the universe
pixel skylines
occasionally subtle
ellievsbear
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seen from Türkiye
seen from China
seen from Australia
seen from United Kingdom
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@shevaults
𝚂𝙷𝙴𝚅𝙰𝚄𝙻𝚃𝚂 is an independent roleplay blog for the sole survivor / nora from fallout 4, loved by thea. general of the minutemen, grieving mother, destroyer of the institute and overall mess. i'm 21+ so 18+ only, minors dni. video game multimuse @4allout.
about • guidelines • timeline tags • headcanons • visage • misc
The image of the boy played back in Hancock's memory. He had given him his mentats tin. His last sober action. The child unsettled him in a way, the curiosity and emptiness in his eyes. Like he knew everything and nothing at all.
Hancock stepped over some rubble as he spoke simply, “good kid.”
“You? Hit the third rail with fahr?”
Hancock really didn't know. If he thought hard about it, he may remember some conversation with Daisy about what they should and shouldn't be doing for the holiday. Kent along with other ghouls flooded the memory den, wanting to spend their holiday with long gone loved ones. He might've let the service be free. He couldn't remember. The day was one of many chem induced blank spots in his head.
“Yeah, sure probably,” Hancock explains. “You've better luck askin the Diamond's Mayor what I did.” An attempt at a joke. Was hard not to think about their lack of relationship during this time. Ever since the institute's destruction, Piper had been spinning her stories about how it was only a matter of time now, McDonough was going to snap. He'd been reading the paper more than usual. Mostly for word of Nora, but at any moment it'd felt like Piper would come knocking on his door asking questions about both Nora and his brother. That stressed him out.
His cigarette finally burned down and he spit it out into the slush. Through some buildings he could see the blurry reflection of some glass.
“We near the greenhouse?” He asks brushing shoulders against Nora to take a look at her pipboy.
It wasn't long after he asked, Hancock heard the shuffling of disoriented feet. The disturbed ferals Ezra was talking about. One came running forward, its movements unusually stiff due to the cold. With a single shot from Hancock it toppled forward, sliding across the ground towards their feet. The clicking of the pipboy taking note of the exposed blood. It was quiet now but not for long.
The silhouettes of ghouls could be seen standing inside the greenhouse. They fumbled about, torn vocal cords calling out to each other.
In this brief moment they had to prepare, Hancock takes off his gloves and shoves them in his pocket. It's easier to handle the gun this way.
“How many do ya see?” He asks Nora, knowing she has better eyesight.
good kid. hancock's words stir something in nora, a faint hint of annoyance. how the fuck would he know? he hasn't been here to see her raise him. shaun is a good kid, but sometimes, in the dark of night, he also feels like a a reminder of everything she’s lost. it stings that hancock hasn't been there to walk her through it all. still, nora keeps her gaze ahead, focusing on the path in front of them as the ruins of boston stretch out before them.
it’s strange to think how easily they used to talk, how effortlessly they moved through the world together. now, everything feels like an effort, like they’re trying too hard to pretend that things haven’t changed. it's only the sight of the greenhouse in the distance pulls her focus back to the present.
as hancock brushes against her to check her pip-boy, she tenses for a moment, resisting the urge to punch him in the face for being so presumptuous in thinking that she'd want him that close. the brief physical contact is just a reminder of how close they used to be. everything feels wrong.
the sudden shuffle of ghoulish feet draws her fully back to what really matters. her hand instinctively goes to her rifle as she watches hancock take down the first feral ghoul, and the sight of it sliding across the ground towards them, propelled by the slush and snow, sends a shiver down her spine. but she’s seen worse, done worse. this is nothing new.
when hancock asks how many ghouls she sees, nora squints through the fogged-up glass of the greenhouse, counting the silhouettes. "six, maybe seven," she replies, her voice steady. she can’t help but glance at hancock one more time as she tries to gauge his thoughts. nora glances back at the greenhouse.
"you wanna go in guns blazing or do you have a plan?" he's always got some kind of plan, always strategizing in times where nora might just throw a few molotov cocktails and hope for the best. she lets out a soft sigh, readjusting her grip on her rifle. "whatever you think is best."
maybe it is nice to have someone make decisions for her for once, but that's a dangerous game. with hancock, things like this can quickly turn into people pleasing even when she disagrees with what he wants. nora's not going to let herself get to that place ever again. there's no fear of losing him to a disagreement now, after all: she's already lost him.
this is all i got for today folks
the feel of your touch
Hancock knows what she's doing in an instant when she reaches for her flask. Suddenly her erratic behavior and sloppy handling of tasks makes sense. She hasn't been sober. If his sense of smell was better he could probably pick up on the scent of booze quicker. But Hancock of all people knows that he's in no position to judge. If this was how Nora wanted to handle her emotions, all he had to say to that was cheers. And maybe that…he was sorry. He did this to people didn't he?
"you asked when i'm heading out, now seems as good a time as any."
Her words pull his eyes up from the flask at her hip, “done deal, sister.”
Hancock starts gathering his things, still feeling the mental sharpness from the excessive amount of mentats he had taken. He double checks his shotgun to make sure it's loaded then swings it on his back. Then, before it becomes too difficult to fumble for it with gloves on, he lights a cigarette.
“You lead, I follow.” Hancock says through a puff of smoke.
Within the ruins of Boston, the snow didn't gather as thick. It was gray slush at best. But the air still had a nip to it. John remembered stories from prewar ghouls, marveling at how they've witness winter disappear entirely within those first 100 years, but slowly return. For John there had always been a winter, however weak it was. Maybe Ezra could really do something here, if the ancient weather patterns were returning to the commonwealth. Hell, even Christmas had survived the centuries, though lost to its original religious connotations.
Walking beside Nora he casually wondered out loud, “how was your Christmas?”
He had an understanding it was her first one since…everything. And after he asked the question he retreated inside his hat and scarf like a turtle. He couldn't deny that there was a part of him who had wanted to spend it with her. Even though he hadn't intentionally celebrated since he was a kid. Goodneighbor of course kept up with festivities, considering the large ghoul population. But he could hardly remember what he did. He was likely high out of his mind and glued to Fahrenheit's side.
“Did ya hit the Diamond? They tend to keep the spirit…lights and shit…” Hancock expanded on his question, tried and failed to make it less personal somehow.
the sight of hancock's gaze lingering on her flask hits nora like a truck. she'd thought, maybe, he'd just let it slide. but, of course, he notices. it's a stark contrast to the woman she used to be, the one who’d sometimes refuse even a drink of alcohol because she just wasn't in the mood. her gaze is absent as hancock gathers his things, checks his gun. you lead, i follow. his words hit her again, just as hard.
nora always loved the winter. the cold had never bothered her, not when she could wrap up in the right clothes and feel nice and cozy indoors. she used to dive into the snow as a kid, teeth chattering like an idiot, but she'd never minded. she even looked forward to it. but now, trudging through the slush with hancock at her side, the air feels stale, the tension between them palpable. and then he asks that question: how was your christmas?
when hancock asks her that, she struggles to keep the searing irritation from showing on her face. how the fuck does he think her christmas was? thanks, hancock, my christmas was actually really fucking awful. that’s what she wants to say. instead, she bites her tongue, trying to push down the memories of that day—the missing faces, greeting people she'd much prefer to be others, the way she spent the whole time fighting tears trying to put on a brave face for shaun. her first christmas in the commonwealth had been a disaster. she'd drank herself into oblivion later that night, curled up in bed and let an alcohol-induced slumber take her.
“yeah, i hit the diamond,” she replies, her voice steady. it's almost too steady, as if she’s desperately trying to keep it that way. she keeps her eyes ahead, not wanting to meet hancock's gaze. “i took shaun to see it all.”
she remembers holding shaun's hand, guiding him through the market with its lights and decorations, trying to make it feel like the holiday she remembered. he deserved more, deserved the kind of christmas she had when she was his age. instead, all she could give him was a pale imitation.
nora takes a slow, deep breath. if they're going to travel together, she's going to have to get used to this, act like everything is normal again. for the greater good, she thinks. there's a voice in the back of her head that sounds suspiciously like ghoul's that says fuck the greater good.
"you?" nora asks, although she's not sure how genuine her question is. it feels like small talk. "hit the third rail with fahr?"
When Nora imputed the coordinates on her pipboy, the situation felt handled. This scientist would fall under the Minutemen’s jurisdiction, she’d make the trip out to get that research, and Hancock would continue setting up this new lab. At some point in the future he could send someone out to gather whatever plant would be useful for the chem industry.
Hancock and Nora, they could go their separate ways again.
“…I think there are feral ghouls in the greenhouse. I attempted to securely store the surviving cuttings and seeds but I could only manage to place them under a clay pot before I heard movement…and one more thing…” As if afraid to continue relinquishing information, Ezra toys with the new tears in his lab coat, “There is a full binders worth of research on varying topics in bioscience hidden just outside CIT…I placed it in the trailer out front. I was going to try and continue my research there after finding a warmer place to store the samples I had saved.”
This changed things for Hancock. He had been keeping tabs on the General’s recent activity. She was reckless, nothing like before. Hancock couldn’t place clear goals to her actions, he could only follow up behind her and tie up her loose ends so it wouldn’t come and bite her in the ass. The CIT was more than just a loose end. It was the place where things really fell apart.
Hancock never told her, but he had sent his people to remove Father’s body from the roof. When they had arrived he was gone. He didn’t know if the corpse had gotten up and walked away or if some institute clean up crew came in and teleported him back underground. The only thing left was Nora’s empty pistol. As of this moment it was sitting in his desk, hidden away from the world. He didn’t know why he kept the murder weapon, if not some dark sentimentality.
“When are ya plannin’ on headin’ out that way?” Hancock looks over Nora’s shoulder at her pipboy. He feigns general curiosity, knowing that he should probably go with her.
“Hopefully soon?” The scientist interrupts from between the bars, “I didn’t manage to get any generators running at the greenhouse, I’m worried the seeds and live samples will perish…and if we’ve no viable starters, then I’m not sure how immediately…” Ezra trails off, not wanting to spell out his own doom if these seeds end up failing, “uh, I mean. The quicker the better. But with the binder and the holotapes I can make anything.”
“Right…” Hancock says wryly towards Ezra. Then he leans to whisper to the General, pointing out in the hall, “Nora…do ya mind?”
Once out of the room, Hancock’s men funnel in, to resume some sort of guard duty. When they are alone he rests against the lobby counter and wrings his gloves in his hands nervously. “Look, I ain’t gonna pretend like things are peachy between us but… I wouldn’t mind watchin’ your back for this…if you’d have me…”
If you’d have me…
Just like he had said before months ago. Did he ever truly stop being hers?
“Just sounds like it's gotta be a quick turn ‘round. Mr. Labcoat seems nervous bout leavin his shit out there too long.” Hancock attempted to explain away his concern for Nora facing the CIT again alone.
as nora inputs the coordinates into her pip-boy, the situation seems settled, the scientist now a minutemen responsibility. she’ll retrieve the research, get the job done, and hancock will return to his world of chems and freaks. they'll part ways again, no mess, no arguments.
but then ezra mentions the feral ghouls in the greenhouse and the research binder near cit, and nora’s jaw tightens. her mind flashes to the roof, to what she did to father, and she forces herself to focus on ezra’s words and ignore the lightheadedness she suddenly and briefly feels. the binder and samples are crucial.
when hancock asks to speak with her privately, she hesitates, but after a deep breath in she follows him out of the room. she watches as he leans against the counter, wringing his gloves, and nora can't help but note that there’s something vulnerable in his posture, something she hasn’t seen in him in a long time. she folds her own arms as she leans against a nearby wall, her gaze drawn to some scrap on the floor as she listens to hancock speak. i wouldn't mind watchin' your back for this ... if you'd have me ...
his offer catches her off guard, and the first thing she feels is anger. now he wants to travel with her? now he doesn't need the space he'd claimed he needed before she had to be the one to call it off for good? still, something within nora that she can't quite place won't let her say no. she doesn't want to argue with him; she's never wanted to argue with him. isn't that part of the reason she hadn't taken him with her to the institute?
nora’s been fighting so hard to stand on her own, to show everyone—and herself—that she doesn’t need anyone, especially not him, and most of the time she feels like she's failing at that. but now, travelling with hancock again ... she doesn't want to feel small, or look to him for guidance, or change the way she'd do things just to keep him happy. she doesn't want that anymore. she's had to look out for herself over these past few weeks in a way she hasn't had to before, and she doesn't want to play by anyone's rules but her own.
with a deep breath out, nora's gaze finally meets hancock's again. "fine," she replies. it's short and simple, because that's all she can muster right now.
feeling that familiar urge, nora reaches for the hip flask attached to her belt and unscrews the top before she brings it to her lips. the whiskey within burns her throat as it goes down, but it warms her chest in a way that makes her forget about the anxiety within. she's generous with the amount before she caps it again, slotting it back on her belt as she meets hancock's gaze with her firm own.
"you asked when i'm heading out," nora says in a monotone voice, pushing herself off the wall. "now seems as good a time as any."
she'd brought all the supplies she might need for exactly the kind of adventure ezra told them they're heading on. she resists the urge to ask bitterly if he's going to say there's something she's not considering, something they have to prepare for first like she's a child that needs guidance. when did the thought of his guidance sour? she used to relish it. but nora's not in the mood for planning ahead—she's in the mood for shooting first and dealing with the situation as it comes. hancock's about to see the very reason he's been cleaning up after nora with his own eyes...
y'all i cant breathe please get them to stop beefing
Goodneighbor's of the people, for the people, you feel me? Everyone's welcome.
There was a lot going on in the back and forth. Mentions of the blast, talk of gorillas, and claims of internal rebellion. All interesting of course, but Hancock’s patience was running thin. A circular conversation with a woman he loved but no longer knew.
“you want me to believe that you’re some kind of rebel? that you went against everything the institute stands for just to help the commonwealth?” “yes! yes, exactly. i know it sounds far-fetched, but it’s the truth.”
“Gonna need more than just your word to know ya ain’t bullshittin…” Hancock mutters.
Deep down he knew it was more likely than Nora may believe. They’ve known proof of this through the Railroad and Patriot. Though that didn’t exactly go as planned. The memory of it all frustrated Hancock, then Nora spoke to him.
"what do you think of his story, rebel king?"
It caught him off guard. His dark eyes flicked over Nora’s face then they roll. “What so now ya want the opinion of the rebel king?” He bites unexpectedly, mocking the title. Hancock can feel a tightness in his chest. The urge to ask her where was this consideration at the end of the line?
Hancock rummages through his pockets and takes a handful of mentats, chewing the tablets as he heads to the doorway. With his arms held up in defeat he says, “dunno. Kill him. Don’t really care how this goes anymore. Just clean up when you’re done, don’t want the boys doin’ overtime.”
In a panic, the scientist grabs the bars, “Wait! Liam Binet!”
Patriot’s real name. It stops Hancock in his tracks, barely looking over his shoulder back into the room.
“I knew what he was doing…with the Railroad. I…I didn’t get involved but I was sympathetic. I didn’t say anything. Even when I knew something was happening…”
It takes a moment, but after a deep sigh, Hancock returns to Nora's side, though his eyes do not meet hers. “Where’s this research? Ya said there was a paper trail of some kind? My men keep bitchin’ bout seeds, but all I see in this cage is you.”
“I hid it.” The scientist admits with his head hung low. “I’ll tell you where it is…just promise me I can keep researching. I’ll do it under your supervision, whatever institution you have running here… the minutemen?” His eyes slowly meet Hancock’s, “...or…yours?” The name of Hancock’s settlement slipping from his memory.
The mayor gets close to the cell, grabbing the chin of the scientist and moving his head side to side, examining him, and pulling him uncomfortably into the bars. Then he lets him go to stumble backwards to the otherside.
“It’s called Goodneighbor, brother.” A low graveled laugh escapes Hancock, “as I already said. Ain’t up to me. But if ya manage to come out the other end, sure. Feel free to visit.”
nora’s eyes narrow on hancock when he mocks her. what, so now ya want the opinion of the rebel king? irritation flares within her, but she says nothing in response, gritting her teeth and turning to look back at the scientist. of course he still doesn't fucking understand, and nora fears he never will even if she explains it fully. too consumed in her irritation with him, she doesn't watch as hancock walks away, though she hears him pop the mentats he fishes from his pocket and chew them like the pills might give him a newfound sense of patience.
he doesn’t care? she’s tempted to call him out on it, to ask him why he’s even here if he doesn’t care anymore, but she doesn't have it in her to argue about this right now. before she can speak, the scientist’s panicked voice cuts in and he namedrops liam binet. the memory of the institute informant as well as the railroad leaves a sour taste in her mouth.
when hancock finally turns back, his mood darker, nora’s already made up her mind. the scientist’s story all adds up to someone who was at least adjacent to the right side of things. maybe that means he’s telling the truth, or maybe he’s just a damn good liar. either way, she decides she’ll allow him to continue his research, but only under her watch, where she can keep an eye on him and control the risks. she’s not about to have him anywhere near her loved ones if this turns sour: the castle would do as a base of operations.
nora watches hancock's movements as he grabs the scientist's chin, yanking his head to the side to inspect him through the bars. hancock's grip tightens, and nora wonders just how much of that irritation he's feeling is directed at her. she quickly grows bored of the mayor's antics, however, sighing once hancock releases his hold on the scientist.
"you’ll continue your research," nora begins, her head tilting upward as her gaze flickers over the stained white lab coat he wears, "but under my terms." the general pauses, her eyes cold and sharp. "if i see a single thing amiss, if i suspect you're lying to me at any moment, you'll regret it. are we clear?"
nora doesn't glance at hancock, but she keeps her ears alert for another quip or stray look thrown her way. she knows he’s angry—she can feel it, and so is she. but despite their own issues, they've got a job to do ... and nora really hopes this one is going to work out.
the scientist swallows hard, his eyes darting nervously from hancock back to nora. he raises a trembling hand to adjust his crooked glasses, trying to compose himself. "y-yes, ma’am," he stammers, his voice wavering, "i understand. i … i’ll do whatever you need."
at that, nora smiles. it's sharp and all edges, born out of satisfaction than any genuine sort of emotion. "good," she replies. "now, i need to know where you hid your research. all of it. and don't leave anything out."
the scientist hesitates, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “the research is hidden at an old greenhouse north of university point," he explains, his voice steadier now that he's proven his value. "it’s—well, it's well-hidden. you'll need an empty holotape to load the information onto via the terminal. with that information, i can set up from practically anywhere as long as i have a working computer.”
nora's gaze is drawn away from the scientist as she marks the coordinates on her pip-boy. she doesn’t know what they'll find at the greenhouse—maybe some hidden terminal and a bunch of feral ghouls—but it better be worth it. letting the scientist continue his work under her watch feels like the right call, but trust is hard to come by. if he’s leading them into a trap, he’s only digging his own grave.
"my name … my name is dr. ezra clarke," the scientist finally offers, his tone more steady. slowly, nora's gaze flickers up to him from the glare of her pip-boy screen. a name.
she sighs. "alright, ezra," she says, lowering her left arm with the pip-boy strapped to it, "then that research better be what you say it is, because it’s the only thing keeping you alive right now."
Carl Grimes in every episode of The Walking Dead: 1.01 Days Gone Bye
Milf alert!!!!!!!!! And Hancock is there ig
Ref under cut
Sees Fallout Rpers?? What if I just made an OC to join in. But what if I also made a Strong RP blog along with Yes Man...
you should do it! i’d be more likely to interact w strong since i’ve only played 4 but it’d be great to see more fallout blogs :)
Hancock was thankful for the lack of comment on his actions with the loud mouth. In general it had been hard to manage the idea of Nora moving on. He had heard news of her prowling the commonwealth with another ghoul at her side. The Ghoul, actually. It soured him if he thought about it too long and comments like the man had made don’t help. He already heard enough of it in Goodneighbor. The rumor that Nora was swapping out ghouls for some fetish related reason was a popular topic. Most knew to cut that shit out when their Mayor was within earshot, but apparently some were dumb enough to try and throw their hat into the ring right in front of him.
Quietly he follows her to the cells, putting the thoughts behind him.
"you," the scientist stammers, his eyes wide as he stumbles back. "oh god, you're here to kill me..."
This was different. Typically it was the sight of Hancock who inspired fear, but the man in the cage had his eyes locked on Nora and she was his only concern. Hancock leans back against one of the cabinets, allowing Nora to do her thing, whatever this new thing was.
“i’m not here to kill you, but i do need you to tell me everything to make sure i don't get that itch.”
That threat seemed to come out naturally. Hancock shifts in his stance and when the scientist looked at him with those pleading eyes he approached the cell, shaking his head in disapproval, “what ya lookin’ at me for? I’m just providin’ the venue.”
Hancock gestures around him to the dank and dirty room, “eh…we’re workin’ on it.” His dark eyes meet the scientist, “you’re on the surface now. And you’re lookin up at the one big player in this little power vacuum of the commonwealth,” He speaks highly of Nora, “I got no say in what happens to ya, so ya better get sweet with her, not me.”
The scientist turns back to Nora, swallowing dryly before making his case, “I… I only ever wanted to make the Commonwealth a better place. It’s why I saved my research. I couldn’t let years of work get destroyed. This is beyond primitive politics of some bygone era.” He managed to make some sort of dig at Hancock and Nora’s early American get ups. “T-This is the future, this is–”
“Somethin’ you should pick up the pace with, pal,” Hancock noted.
“If you let me live, and continue my research, I’ll give you all of it. Every note, every paper, every holotape, every cutting, every seed. Everything. We have the opportunity to terraform the commonwealth. Green grass, full trees, biodiversity. Plants that have only existed in your memory,” The scientist says, assuming that Hancock is also prewar.
Hancock rolled his neck, “sorry, I’m havin’ a hard time understanding why any of this matters to me…” He was beginning to think Nick led him on just so he could stand uncomfortably next to Nora for an hour.
“Chemicals. Everything is made of chemicals…chems… nicotine, caffeine, tetrahydrocannabinol, psilocybin…” After a moment the scientist clarifies, “I have research on things that can produce a high.”
“Oh word?” Hancock understood enough to nod his head, then looked at Nora. This was her call. As most things were, up until the end.
as nora listens to the scientist’s pleas, she can't deny that, if true, this would be nothing short of revolutionary. she doesn’t let any of her interest show, however; instead, she keeps her expression neutral, letting the silence stretch on just long enough to make him sweat.
nora already knows she's not going to kill this guy. the scientist is offering something valuable, something that has tipped the scales in his favour, but trust doesn’t come easy in the commonwealth. nora’s not about to let this man walk out of here without making him earn it, and maybe she wants to make him sweat a little more.
“why should we trust you?” nora asks, folding her arms across her chest as she shifts her weight to one leg. the scientist's eyes nervously between nora and hancock as he realises that he's going to really have to convince them if he wants to get out alive.
“i-i know i don’t have a lot of leverage here,” he stammers, trying to steady his voice, “but if you want to change the commonwealth, really make a difference, you need that research.” another hard gulp, and then his next words come out slowly: “it … it might help make up for it, for the—” he hesitates, then forces the words out. “for the crater you left behind, ma'am.”
nora doesn’t respond immediately, though she quickly feels her eyes blaze with irritation. for a moment, she lets his words hang in the air, watching as he fidgets under her gaze as if he only just realized what he said. then, slowly, she steps closer to the bars, leaning in just slightly.
“what makes you so different from the rest of the institute scientists i've met, hm?” she asks coolly. “the ones i met would rather play around with pretend gorrillas than put a single ounce of effort into helping the commonwealth. you lived very happily in comfort for years while others outside suffered. i'm meant to believe you're different?”
the scientist swallows hard, his desperation growing. “i … i’m not like them,” he insists simply.
nora narrows her eyes. “you want me to believe that you’re some kind of rebel?” she asks, a hint of skepticism creeping into her voice. “that you went against everything the institute stands for just to help the commonwealth?”
to her surprise, the scientist nods frantically. “yes! yes, exactly. i know it sounds far-fetched, but it’s the truth. the institute is gone now, and there’s nothing left for me there. but here … here, i can make a real difference. you just have to let me live.”
nora studies him closely. his fear is real, but his story? it’s hard to tell if he’s genuinely different from the others or just saying whatever it takes to save his own skin. still, part of nora … foolishly has hope. the larger threat of the institute is gone: what's one scientist? the pros outweigh the cons here, at least as far as she can see them.
"well?" nora asks, turning to address hancock. "what do you think of his story, rebel king?"
@mayormentats please just let me drink my stupid juice in peace
this is a social experiment reblog this if u were rping on tumblr before 2016
RICK & CARL IN THE WALKING DEAD | 4.05 “Internment”
