I’m just making a general announcement since I noticed there are some people who aren’t sure what happened since @anticsofanthony-deactivated2016 was deleted earlier today and Anthony left the Discord RP channel.
I managed to catch him and make sure he was okay. He’s fine, he’s just taking a break from a lot of stuff right now. I just wanted to pass along a note from him to anyone who was a mutual follower:
"I might return in the future, but if I don't, let everyone know that it is no one's fault and that no one should feel bad about it. That and my time with the community, with you all, has been the best time I've had in a very long time."
Just wanted to ease anyone’s worries. Hopefully he’ll come back at some point, but yeah... :/
I did have some chapters in Skin Deep that were going to include Anthony. I still plan on writing that. There are no hard feelings there. He’s a super sweet guy and I wish him the best of luck <3
@anticsofanthony Tell me more. :D Joking aside, he’d consider it-- very carefully. That would be a miracle in the making, and also something to converse with his two main doctors about: @a-star-doll‘s Jayce and @docscalpel‘s Doc.
Not sure if you're still doing OC Appreciation posts, but drawn to your art and characters, and saw you doing them. Let's get to know each others characters more, shall we? Thoughts on Anthony and Zeke?
@anticsofanthony Thank you for the compliment, and the opportunity to throw Druncle at them. I hear it was Anthony Day a bit back. Belated cheers.
anthony impressions: I’m interested to see where his story goes.druncle/anthony: They both– acutely– understand survivor’s remorse. Something they can bond over beers or so on. His intertwined moments with Enclave run-ins and his general hunt for information would be of interest to Druncle, if the topic ever came up. Anthony overall comes across to me as a well-rounded and realistic individual… I can tell the thought you’ve put into him.
Druncle would… politely disagree… with Anthony’s penchant for puns. (His significant other, Jayce, loves them. Go figure.)
zeke impressions: oHdruncle/zeke: druncle doesn’t scream very often, but on first sight, he would probably scream, a lot. He recognizes Zetans from distant memory (Those crazy kids at Big MT, man!) and would probably put two and two together. Bizarrely, after the initial peaceful(?) hello’s and expected denial/refractory period, I can see Druncle being pretty fair-weather if but avoidant with Zeke– who I understand is, technically, spliced human as well. Welcome to home away from home!
Telepathically skimming the surface thoughts of new faces– with Druncle, he would find an intense cacophony of worry, fear, and reactive anger. Whether or not Zeke agrees with Druncle’s perspective on their broken reality, I like to think that they would have a conversation or two concerning these thoughts… and the limited(?) possibility of where the wee rock they’re both on is headed.
I drew you something for Zeke, which you can find here. The concept has been in my head for a long time– playing an alien character is psychologically-tickling for me, and I respect you on the challenge. Also I dig his Lola duds.
Hey Dixie! Lucas, Tinker, and I worked together to make you a little handheld game system, so you can play holotape games, like on my Pipboy! Happy Birthday! :D
SHE LOVES IT OH MY GOD expect a shower of JUMP HUGS anthony tinker and lukas !!!!
@anticsofanthony proposed a scenario earlier where his eldritch horror character, Guile, made an offer to Abby, so I kinda took the prompt and ran with it >_> (also related to that Character Feels meme that was going around a couple of weeks ago!). Featuring @vectober’s V.
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It was difficult for Abby to remember what exactly she was doing that placed her right outside the boundaries of the Slog. Perhaps she had been initially heading to the old broken down bus where Preacher used to perch when he waited on Molly to return from her trade routes. Perhaps she had been looking for scrap metal, or simply taking a walk to get some fresh air. Whatever it was, she couldn't recall the reason why she was there, only that she found herself alone on the road that ran outside the place she now called 'home'.
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Though 'alone' probably wasn't the correct term. She was certainly there with /someone/, though what this stranger truly was baffled her. He certainly looked human at first glance. The man was dressed in a neatly pressed business suit, staring down at an open pocket-watch that he held in his hand. Everything seemed dark as Abby stared at him, her surroundings seemingly closing in around her, in spite of the fact they were standing outside. He closed the watch, smiling as he tucked it back into his suit's pocket.
"Hello, Ms. Fisher," he greeted her. "How fortunate to run into you this evening."
Abby took a few steps back. Something about this man felt off. She couldn't place it. He seemed normal enough, yet there was something inside of her that cautioned her against him.
"How... how do you know my name...?" she asked. He maintained a calm smile.
"You'll find I know many things," he replied, walking closer. "Such knowledge is part of my business."
"... and... and what business are you in...?" Abby wondered nervously, reaching down and realizing she had no gun, no knife... just her medic pouch. What was she going to do, stab him to death with a stimpak? She felt utterly defenseless, which didn't help the situation any.
"The business of making wishes come true," he informed her. "Everyone has something they wish to trade - something they would change about their life if they could. I provide a service - the ability for one to start their lives over. I deal in second chances, if you will."
Abby looked behind her. She couldn't even see the Slog from where she stood. Everything seemed to be engulfed in a thick fog. She could feel her heart pounding faster than normally did.
"I-I'm... I'm afraid I have no need of your services..." she quickly told him. The man didn't seem dissuaded, continuing to smile at her, demeanor placid.
"Of course you do," he gently argued. "Nate? Shaun? Your mother?" he questioned. "What would you give to have them back, I wonder...?"
Abby felt her heart sink.
"I don't understand..." she retorted. "They're dead..."
"But they don't have to be," he explained. "My offer is this, little sparrow - a trade. This life for the one that could have been. A life where the bombs never dropped. A life where you never had to lose Nate, were able to raise a child of your own, a child who still had a grandmother to visit."
Abby bit her lip.
"... You have my attention," she found herself saying as she fidgeted with her little radstag pendant. "The catch?"
"No real catch," he hummed. "Simply... you would never know this life. Hancock? You would have never known him. You would have no memory that he even existed."
Abby quietly considered his words. She loved Hancock dearly. She was his missing piece, after all. But a life without the bombs... what would it mean for so many others? There was more than just herself on the line here.
"But... my friends...?" she questioned.
"They would never know the pain of the bombs dropping, either," he stated. "Their lives would be as they were, without interferance of a nuclear destruction."
Abby thought about those she loved more than anything else in the world. What would life have been like for them? Would Mercy have been happy if his full squad - especially Morales - had lived? Would Trish be better off having her little sister by her side rather than Roland? And Zephyr, with his daughter still alive?
And yet, more questions occurred to her. She didn't know the history of all of her friends. Some were more mysterious than others. She didn't know Preacher's past, or Toby's for that matter. She did know that the bombs had saved some people from horrible situations, even at the expense of their own flesh. One particular incident came to mind as she filtered through what she /did/ know about her little adopted family.
"... Mercy had a tumor in the back of his head, pre-war. Would it... would it have gotten better? I know the radiation made it mutate, but... ghouls also heal better than most. Would... would he have been okay?"
The stranger shifted his stance slightly as he considered her words.
"Normally I don't make such a deal that goes outside the bounds of the person in question," the man informed her, "But for you, my dear? I'm willing to make an exception - a special offer. Your life with your Nate and your Shaun - your mother as well - along with 'Mercy's' tumor completely healed. All in exchange for your life now. No John, but the life you dreamt of before the war."
Abby continued to fidget, not certain. It seemed like a good deal. Sacrifice one person in exchange for everyone being able to live their lives, yet... something felt wrong about it all. Her own feelings and emotions for Hancock aside, there seemed to be a deeper issue lying under the surface.
"... you said I'd never get to know Hancock, but... what about the others?" she wondered. "Mercy, Avery, Preacher, Molly... would I know them? And Travis...? Would Neal ever get to know him?"
"Most likely, no," he replied. "You would be none the wiser, however."
Abby shook her head.
"But... even if I don’t get to know them... would they be happy?" she pressed. "Would they find what they're wanting out of life? Be as happy, if not moreso, than they are now?"
"Their lives would be their own to live. What happens to them is for them to decide - their own paths to walk," the man retorted.
Abby continued to fidget with her necklace. What would this mean for others? Could she really be so selfish as to make a decision that impacted more than just her? And yet...
".... No. I-I can't..." she decided. "It wouldn't be right."
"What wouldn't be right?" he asked. "You end up happy, nobody dies from the bombs, life continues on. No suffering at the hands of the Wasteland, no-"
"Stop!" Abby insisted. "Maybe... maybe nobody dies from the bombs, but life wasn't so grand before they dropped, either!" she argued. "People still hurt. People still struggled. I was one of the lucky ones - to live where I did. Others... most weren't so fortunate. Maybe... maybe it would save lives, but... how many would it destroy? How many wonderful people would have never even been born...?! John, Cory, the Grahams... this isn’t even just about the lives of those from before the war - this is about their lives, too!"
"You won't remember this," he pointed out. "It will be as though they never existed."
".... and what exactly do you get out of this?" she questioned. "We're not exactly talking about a small favor here. What's in this for you?"
The man grinned, something that unsettled Abby for some reason.
"I get to consume all the pain you leave behind," he told her. "All your suffering? Is mine to feast on. Fair trade, wouldn't you say?"
Abby tensed up, taking another step backward.
"No," she continued to insist. "Maybe... maybe it's selfish of me to say. I know... I know it is... but... I love the people I'm with now. John, Mercy, Ave, Barth, Bastion... I wake up every morning just feeling fortunate that I get to see them every day. Even those I don't get to see often - Preacher, Molly, Toby? Knowing that they exist... knowing that I can still see them if I choose to? It's a wonderful feeling. And Neal! He was never this happy before the war! He and Travis... they love each other. It's... I couldn't be happier with my life. I couldn't be happier for the people in my life!"
The man frowned, looking irritated.
"How would Nate feel to hear you say that?" he questioned. Abby furrowed her brow.
"How fucking dare you even ask that?" she snapped. "Nate... Nate would want me to be happy. And I /am/! Someone like you twisted my fate before, which is why it's me standing here and not him! But I don't need that - not for me, not for anyone! Maybe... maybe things are bad. Different. Hard. But... it's the life I have now, and I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world - not even for the life I initially wanted."
The stranger snorted, his body distorting, mouths cropping up all over him as he seemed to melt into shadows, transforming into some horrible abomination. Even his eyes were now nothing more than two orifices filled with teeth.
"Are you truly sure this is the right decision...?" he asked, his voice now deeper, almost hissing in tone, dozens of similar voices speaking with it. Abby had felt pure terror before, but nothing quite like this. Her chest felt tight, her body frozen as she stared at the mouths that all echoed the primary one's words.
Suddenly, more shadows appeared around her, morphing into a familiar figure. Her guardian, the mysterious being she referred to as 'V', stood between the two.
"Her choice was made, Mouth,” V told him, sounding not too pleased.
“Back /off/."
All the mouths shifted to show toothy grins in response.
"She's more selfish than I would have credited her for - that she'd rather the whole world burn than to lose what she cherishes in the here and now?"
"That's not for you to judge," V stated firmly. "This little bird is mine, and /not/ for you to push negotiations with."
The figure relaxed, shrugging as he 'looked' at Abby - his head having shifted in her direction.
"Very well. But if you change your mind, dove, just return here. I'll always be waiting," his mouths smirked. And with that, the fog around Abby dissipated, a clear sky above her, the sun shining down and lighting up the landscape. V remained, still lingering in front of her charge.
"I... I don't understand... what /was/ that thing?" Abby asked. V placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, a sensation of comfort flooding Abby’s senses.
"Questions for another time, child,” she said in a calm tone. “Please, don't concern yourself with the likes of /him/. Your choice was your own to make. Never question the life you've chosen for yourself, or for those you hold dear."
Abby’s eyes felt tired, almost as thought tears threatened to come, but without the intense emotional distress behind them. She blinked, rubbing at her eyes, only to open them and find herself alone. She didn't know what to think of the situation. She sighed, turning around and walking back towards Mercy's clinic. Life in the Wasteland sure was weird.
Here’s a gift for @anticsofanthony of his OCs Anthony and Zeke. Made two versions with and without the effects in case the rainstorm one was too busy. This was a lot of fun, you deserve this buddy!
Misled, most difficult job you've ever had to take?
Misled glares at you for a moment before replying.
“Trade secrets should be kept just that, but… my last job? Was the most difficult,” she notes. “It would have been easy, but… a bystander got involved.”
She doesn’t answer any further, simply staring off and losing herself in thought.
Neal, what dish that you've created are you most proud of?
Neal grins. “It’s really hard to get good Deathclaw meat - most people won’t even go near the fuckers, but if I can get my hand on a really nice cut? Well, I don’t mean to brag, but my Deathclaw Wellington is the best in the Commonwealth!”
He clears his throat, lowering his voice. “Just… uh… don’t tell Abby about that…? She seems to have a thing for those monsters… fuck if I know why.”
