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@brckenchains

WATCHING, SCOUTING, UNRELENTING--BOONE KEPT HIS SIGHTS ON the horizon as a sniper should, though he lacked his spotter. In most cases that would have made him vulnerable, however he thrived in solitude. He followed the roads less travelled during daylight hours and kept off the main lines of transportation not for his sake, but rather for those who might have crossed his path. Less interaction, no questions--that’s how he liked it. One might catch a glimpse of a worn, fluttering duster in the corner of their eye, or a flash of red from the visor in the dead of night, however Boone never lingered. And if you had been so unlucky to be the one caught within his sights, he’d be the last you’d never see.

He’d been following at a distance for days due to uncertainty, though primarily for the other’s safety. First to affirm that he would not bring any troubles down upon them, but to eliminate the surrounding threats that might have once (unsuccessfully) preyed on his target’s life and belongings. A silenced gun shot accurately aimed for the skull of a distant raider or rabid, mutated creature. No less, their lives were his. Sure, she was quite capable of taking care of herself, though that would have made his job that much more difficult.

--But it was within the dead of night that breached the treeline just as she began to settle down beneath whatever shelter she could find, and before she could sit and take solace in any momentary peace she found, Boone had preemptively pressed the muzzle of his rifle up against the small of her back before she had a chance to retaliate as one might have instinctively in self defense. A safety measure, of course. For her, and himself included.

#v: IT BEGAN WITH AN ENDING [ fo4 ]#brckenchains #( I'm a lady of my word )#( *jazz hands @ my potato son* )

@brckenchains

A BEAD OF SWEAT ROLLED FROM HIS HAIRLINE AS DARK EYES scanned the horizon. His armour had long-since been shed in hopes that its removal would help his inner core temperature cool. This was not the case however, and the few brave souls that accompanied the young would-be leader into the mouth of hell itself were more than vocal about their disapproval in the matter. It made him vulnerable, however Arthur placed all his faith in them. He trusted them with his life, and quite frankly there was no better way to show it. Many saw his actions as adolescent foolishness, but he was wise far beyond his years. Those that stood by his side knew that, and many would soon come to realize it.

He heaved a heavy exhale and rubbed the back of his hand along his temple to wipe away the perspiration. His flesh was seared by the scorching sun; marred with sprawling red burns and caked with sand and dust. His mission here was to find the missing Brotherhood unit; one that went quiet and fell off the radar. The wings of the much larger Brotherhood whole were falling apart, and without reconnecting and realigning goals, it would be near impossible to unite and stand against the threats that plagued humanity. In short, this was step one--a very necessary introduction to a much more complex problem. But to move in the light of day was risky over territory they had no say in. Nevada was war-torn and struggling in a three-way war in both politics and military might. The last it needed was fourth power to come into play, no matter how small the scouting unit was. It was not in the Brotherhood’s place to get involved in affairs they had no say in--not to mention within boundaries they were unwelcome within.

However the sun was beginning to set, and that meant it was time to move.

#brckenchains #V: UNITE AND FIGHT [ fo:nv ]#( fucking fight me interact with me while I clean up this mess of a blog and bring Boone back from the dead )#( how do I write )#( what is tumblr )#( I FORGET PLS SEND HELP )

@brckenchains

The Commonwealth, much like the Mojave, had not been kind. With each region came a different conflict, another political movement, an alternative solution. None of which had given him the answers he sought, but each and every road gave him something to expand upon.

Bates was, in many ways, the driving force that kept Boone alive. A reason to push forward, a purpose to fight and survive, and the very driving factor that kept his dusty boots on the ground. But while he crawled out of the proverbial grave he’d buried himself within, she was drowning. The Mojave gave her nothing, so it was beyond its dry and miserable borders that he traversed for a solution. His departure unannounced, his purpose unknown to any save for himself. He came up empty-handed, both in finding a solution and discovering her own disappearance, however he had inevitably been led back to her years later, far worse for wear. So it was within the Commonwealth that their travels began again, their personal ventures kept tight-lipped, and their emotional spectrum on lock-down.

From the little hovel of a shelter they resided in temporarily upon reuniting within the outskirts of post-war Boston, they moved come daybreak, but it was beneath the guise of nightfall that Boone preferred to travel. As the sun set beneath the horizon, they found shelter within the husk of an abandoned ruin of a pre-war home, to which Boone had left in the following hours with promise of return.

--And return he had, with a lead in the form of information he wished to divulge, and an explanation she deserved.

Sweeping around the perimeter soundlessly, Boone pushed inward with an announced, albeit muffled call sign that would have alerted her of his arrival, as opposed to the intrusion of an unwelcome visitor. Light strides carried him over worn floorboards and up a flight of decrepit stairs, and it was only when he reached the room she resided in that he proceeded to speak any further in the usual clipped, short phrases:

“We need to talk.’

#brckenchains #v: IT BEGAN WITH AN ENDING [ fo4 ]#( l m a o I'm not prepared for this )

♛: the pettiest thing my muse has ever done / ☄: the last five Googles searches my muse made / ☢: how would my muse fare in a zombie apocalypse? (the real questions here)

♛: the pettiest thing my muse has ever done

He had Taggart’s face pinned to a dart board for a while before Athene took it down.

☄: the last five Googles searches my muse made

David Sarif

Sarif Industries

pet sitter london area

Nathaniel Brown

healthy recipes can’t cook

☢: how would my muse fare in a zombie apocalypse? (the real questions here)

It depends if he can find a strong group to be with. He wouldn’t last long if he had to fend for himself.

#brckenchains #;about #// he googles himself a lot lmao

brckenchains replied to your post:

LISTEN SHE HAS A POINT

WTF OMI WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON

#brckenchains #OUT OF AMMO [ ooc ]#SHIT POSTING #( was just trying to have a good mangst but im honestly feeling so attacked right now )

@brckenchains // entered Sarif’s office ;;

David tossed a baseball between his palms as he stood in front of his office window. Although from this angle he couldn’t see them, he knew Humanity Front was picketing his front door. They wanted nothing more than to tear his dream down. He would have another meeting with their head soon, and it had him anxious. He was happy to have some sort of distraction, even if it was unannounced.

He told his secretary to let them in, then turned towards his desk when they walked through the double doors to his office. “I’ve got a meeting in a half hour, but if this is quick I can hear you out. I’m David Sarif, as you’ve probably guessed.” He placed the baseball on his desk, then held out his metallic right hand in formal greeting. “Don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting before, Miss...?”

#brckenchains #timeline ;; looking to the sun [ HR ]