firm believer in giving your fallout OCs a companion perk and quirk.
javier, my courier, gives you a perk that lets you hand load some downright stupid expensive/destructive ammo that tears through your enemies at the cost of 2.75x wear to the gun. his companion flavor is that he also will not listen to any tactical orders you give him like range, distance, aggression, waiting, etc. which means theoretically, as a companion, he can (and will) leave you with your gun falling apart in your hands and more enemies in range while he's creeping down a ridge on the advance.
Mark,
command pulled us north just afore sunup - didnt even get to walk down to the annex & tell you myself - trackn sign up past the springs so Im writin this on my knee while the rest of the squad chows down on cold rations
Im already losin my damn mind -- bedroll feels colder n a block of ice & I just cant stop thinkn bout the way you looked yesterday afternoon behind the 5.56 crates all red faced & tryn to keep your voice down while I had my hand tucked way up under your belt
you are ridiculously nice to fuck Mark - haven't stopped thinkn bout every single noise you made since we packed out ---- reckon were gonna be out here six weeks at least
keep your chin up & keep the back annex door unlatched when you hear Im comin
Yours,
J.
To: J. Reyes, NCR Ranger Corps
From: Sgt. M. Brooks, NCR Ranger Outpost Mojave - Logistics
Ref: General Acknowledgment
Ranger Reyes,
Your correspondence was delivered on the same day as the bi-weekly ration shipment. As of writing, it has been sixteen days since your unit’s departure.
Outpost operations remain nominal, though 5.56 inventory is down fifteen percent due to increased patrol schedules near the pass. I'm not confident about being able to meet demand if this persists. Major Knight continues to misfile the weekly requisition ledgers, forcing me to perform double-entry audits after hours.
I am very busy all the time.
Your letter contained several gross violations of standard communication protocol. I have stored it safely to avoid administrative repercussions. Please exercise standard tactical discretion in field correspondences, as is expected of you and I both.
Sgt. M. Brooks
Mark,
six weeks my ass - command went & stretched are sweep clear out to the river & its cold as all hell up n these damn rocks ---- woke up two nights back from a dream where I had you pressed flat against that wire mesh n the supply cage & kept you there til the metal left grid marks right cross your chest - woke up hands empty & near put my fist through a canyon wall
you even miss me, sarge? - or are you just sittin down there staren at your ledger entries feeln all relieved that nobodys draggin you into the dark?
tell me your thinkn about it & tell me you miss my weight on you
need somethn to read when the campfire goes out
Always,
J.
To: J. Reyes, NCR Ranger Corps
From: Sgt. M. Brooks, NCR Ranger Outpost Mojave - Logistics
Ref: General Acknowledgment
Ranger,
It is eight weeks now. The weather on the border has turned bitterly cold and dry. The supply annex is extremely quiet after 1900 hours.
To answer your inquiry: I do not find relief in your absence. The workload has doubled and I could use your free labor. Major Knight requires my constant presence at the desk. I went to bed yesterday at 2200 after re-cataloging medical crates in the rear annex on my own time.
Your previous note was once again, excessively crude. I do not appreciate your speculation regarding the wire mesh.
The room here is very cold at night as of late. I hope you brought your appropriate gear.
Sgt M. Brooks
Mark,
ten fuckin weeks - keepn us on border lockdown til the end of the month - haven't slept more n three hours a night cause every time I close my eyes I hear that lil noise you make right afore you pass out and --- cant wait too be back
Im goin right out my mind - I miss your mouth - I miss bitin your neck & shoulders til your bruised up all over - write me back something real Mark & stop sendn supply reports
tell me you miss me or Ill abandon post & walk all the way down I-15 & make you
New Year Comin Up,
J.
To: J. Reyes, NCR Ranger Corps
From: Sgt. M. Brooks, NCR Ranger Outpost Mojave - Logistics
Ref: General Acknowledgment
Reyes,
Happy New Year. Do not abandon your post. A court-martial under General Oliver's current directive would result in immediate reassignment to a penal battalion or summary execution. Do not be stupid.
The quarterly audit is finished. It is 0200. I am writing this at my desk because I cannot sleep in the back room. It is too quiet. Major Knight asked me yesterday why I appeared fatigued and I was unable to provide a valid administrative reason.
I am having difficulty maintaining my routine without your presence. The bed in the rear annex feels too large, and I am finding it difficult to stay warm regardless of how many wool blankets I retrieve from storage.
I require your heat and weight. It is inconvenient and inefficient, but I require it. Please come back.
Are you happy now?
M. Brooks
Mark,
for months on the dot & they just pushed our rotation back again for nother three weeks min
by the way read your last letter til the paper gave out at the creases
'Inconvenient' - your unbelievable - Im sitn out right here n the dirt thinkn bout the way your legs shake when I hold your hips down & the way you swallow down all those noises to keep quiet & the way you taste when I kiss you til were both out of air & you call all that shit in cun veen yent
come on mark - say it - stop hidin behind your fuckin rank & tell me what you want me to do to you the second I get through that door or Ill lose my mind out here servn your republic
Need it,
J.
Sender: Sgt. M. Brooks
Date: 26-FEB-2276
Carried by: Direct, Discreet Handoff to Express Courier
Javier,
Fine. I hate this. I hate the radio chatter. I hate counting the same fucking 5.56 boxes every morning while Knight drinks his coffee and looks at me like he knows everything. I hate working past my duty hours and returning to an empty bed and quiet room. I hate Officers, Command Structure, and I especially hate whoever it is in the Hub who allocates supplies to the Outpost.
I am exhausted. I am sick to my stomach every day you are gone. I cannot stop thinking about the way you trap my wrists above my head. I cannot stop thinking about your mouth on my neck, or the way you pin me down, or the way you take me raw until I can't take any more. I spent two hours last night thinking about the way you held me down right before you left. Specifically, the way you forced my legs over your shoulders, held my throat just tightly enough, and fucked me until I couldn't think. I have spent the last three weeks completely unable to focus on my inventory ledgers because I feel empty without you. I do not want you to be gentle when you return. I want you to drag me out of this chair and use me until I am completely ruined. I want the shape of your hands bruised into my hips. I want you inside me until I am making those pathetic, loud noises you like so much. I want you to fill me until I have to lie to my Commanding Officer about why I am limping.
I miss the sex. I miss it so much that I cannot maintain the appropriate decorum. I am completely, disgustingly unspooled without you and if you do not return to fix what you have done to my brain and sanity, I will take whatever means necessary to find your camp myself.
I need you to come back and make this better.
Brooks
actively being stalked by this theatrical history buff who refuses to stop talking about his negative experience with a package delivery from over four years ago.
