#geigercounts

[synthsavior]

@geigercounts

              “Hey, I think I’ve seen you around before.” His glorified scrap heap in Diamond City rarely received visitors. Most people didn’t require his sort of assistance, nor did they trust the strange newcomer who seemed much too clean for wasteland living. Suffice to say, it was a pleasant surprise that someone had showed up. As long as they didn’t intend to rob or harm him, anyway. “You’re one of the guards of this place, aren’t you? What are you doing here?”

[riflepackin-blog]

( 'sniffles' here too tho )

send a “sniffles” to find my muse crying | accepting.

She can’t even remember why they were in that department store. Clearingout the ferals, searching for some lost... something. She had been prodding through the debris when she uncovered a child’s book--a cute yellow duck drawn on the front, and a whimsical title about how baths are fun! A breath caught in her throat as her mind tore back to a memory of a simpler time.

Shaun giggling and squealing. Her little baby splashing water out of the tub.Him gripping onto her fingers so tight, and his toothless smile lighting up the whole room.

Oh, God, she missed her baby.

A sob wracks in her chest, and that book found its way into her hands somehow, knuckles white around the glued binding. Tears slide down her cheeks. Oh, this is all just so goddamn unfair. Only when she hears Deacon approach from behind does she attempt to wipe her cheeks, but the tears make streaks in the dirt on her face.

               “ I’M RIGHT BEHIND you, Deacon-- “

Her voice is thick, caught in the back of her throat. A pause.

                       “ Just give me a minute. “

[unveilingtrutharchive]

( ♥. anyway lmao fuck me up )

xxx ;; five (or so) smut sentences.

                 piper is as sober as can be, but she feels completely dazed. none of this feels real– not his skin under her touch, not the traces of nicotine left on her tongue from their shared cigarette. his shades aren’t off and for once, she’s thankful for that because that means she doesn’t have to look at him in the eyes, either. she doesn’t say a thing as she wraps her fingers around him, stroking slow and firm. she drags him closer by the fabric of his worn shirt, leaning her weight against the wall behind her. she doesn’t expect him to do anything, not really, and that’s fine with her. she can tell how much he needs this by the changing of his breath, no matter how slight it is. she presses the top of her head against his chin, keeping her gaze down and raising the pace of her stroking. god only knows how quickly he’ll pretend this never happened.

[unveilingtrutharchive]

( rough touch. )

xxx ;; Your muse clutches their hand tightly around my muse’s mouth to silence them.

            even though piper and deacon butt heads more than two deathclaws trying to tear each other’s throats out, they work surprisingly well together. they know how to sneak around, they know how to lie, they know how to manipulate. there’s no doubt that deacon is much more liberal with the lying and the manipulation, but when she needs to do it, boy, does she do it. she has the advantage of a damn pretty face and, well, to be blunt– breasts and hips. she’s not a woman confident in her appearance by any means, but she knows how to get sixty year old men wrapped around her finger so quickly she nearly gives them whiplash. she hadn’t expected to be recognized, though– it was just her luck that one of the guards from diamond city was here and not drunk enough to have her slip by. he grabs her arm hard enough to bruise and starts yelling at the top of his lungs about an intruder sneaking in, shoot on sight, so on and so forth– so she does what any lady would do. she slides off her heel and breaks his face with it. it stumbles him for long enough for her to duck off and run, kicking off the other heel. there’s already people drawing their guns and yelling profanities, since the official rule is if anyone sneaks in who shouldn’t be in there, they’re killed. no ifs, ands, or buts. 

            she’s sneaking past a corner when she feels someone grab her from behind, yanking her down to the ground and pressing a firm hand over her mouth. her first instinct is to bite and dig her elbow back into the person’s ribs, so she does. it’s only when she turns her head a bit that she realizes it’s deacon– a very unhappy and irritated looking deacon, to be exact. she almost mumbles something against his palm when the sound of rushed footsteps and cursing passes right by the hall inches away from them. she holds in her breath until they’re gone, reaching for the pistol in her purse afterwards. ❛ okay, i know what you’re going to say. don’t get smug with me until we get out of here alive. i can make due with the information i got. thank you, by the way. and– sorry for biting you. you’ll live. ❜

[unveilingtrutharchive]

( 5, 19, 20. )

personal time with piper

Have you ever felt like just packing up your things and leaving everything behind?

            ❛ oh, yeah, big time! i don’t stay in this damn city because i’m in love with it, but it’s tough to find somewhere else that’s safe enough. i wish i could pull a spy move and become a completely different person here and there, but i can’t dedicate myself to that. not anytime soon. ❜

What is the thing you fear the most?

             ❛ yikes– that’s a tough one. i’m scared of dying. i don’t want nat to be left alone. she’s too young to be all by herself. ❜ she doesn’t bring up her intense fear of having those close to her die or her fear of being alone. it’s difficult for her to even come to terms with that. 

If you were a fictional character who would you be?

               ❛ here’s a predictable answer for you– winston smith. i don’t have a lot of options to go off on, but yep, winston. ❜

[unveilingtrutharchive]

❛ i’ve got you. ❜

             yeah, that leg is definitely broken. when she tries to put weight on it to properly stand up, the pain shoots through her like needles. she flinches, swallowing down a pained whine through the blood in her mouth. she often feels stupid and weak, but right now, she feels twice of that. what was she thinking, sneaking right past raider territory with nothing but a pistol. she almost got out of there without being caught, but then one of their dogs spotted her and started barking and snarling and even though piper ran as fast as she possibly could, she was caught by a pack of raiders. the demeaning, lustful comments begun almost immediately, and piper knew just what their intentions were. four men and one woman– yeah, this wouldn’t end well if she didn’t do something. so she shot one of them, and then the others lunged towards her like predators. piper is definitely strong than most people assume, but still not strong enough to fight off three huge, burly men at once. they knocked her down to the floor so hard her pistol went flying, and somewhere down the way one of them stomped on her leg harshly enough to completely break the bone. at that moment, she didn’t feel much of the pain– it was only until she dug one of their own knives into the last guy’s sternum that she realized just how badly they messed her up– she’s wheezing from a blade inside her ribs, her injured leg rendering her immobile. of course– of course none of these guys had any stimpaks. no, that’d be too convenient for her, wouldn’t it? they have a whole bunch of chems, but that’s not going to help her situation right now. she’s going to have to wait until someone passes by to get some help, and if it’s another pack of raiders… well, she still has nine bullets left. nine bullets and a hell lot of determination.

            one, two, three hours pass and she keeps dozing off– both from exhaustion and from the calm silence around this area. the blade is still in her, but she’s too afraid to take it out in fear that it might cause her to bleed out instantly. after all, she doesn’t have anything on herself at the moment to prevent that from happening. the weather is cold enough to wreck her body with shivers, and when she feels a hand on her shoulder, she immediately snaps back to full alertness and aims her pistol straight at the other. she expects to see a lot of people, but deacon is certainly not one of them. slowly, she lowers the weapon, staring up at him in disbelief and shame. he already has a negative view on her, and now here she is, with caked blood on her face and four dead bodies nearby. ❛ before you ask– it’s a, uh, a long story. kinda hurts to breathe right now, so i’ll save it for later. ❜ she doesn’t know what to expect next, but him helping her up to her feet isn’t on that list. she lets out a loud whimper of pain once he gets her to her feet, unintentionally leaning her weight on him. she doesn’t want to depend on him like this, but god, does she really have a choice? she’s not going to survive the night out here, and she can’t put up much of a fight when he’s leaning down and insisting she get on his back– giddy up, it’s like a cowboy movie, and a whole bunch of other ridiculous phrases that go in through one ear and out the other. she cares about what he has to say– she’s just too worn out to fully process everything. she huffs, placing her hands on his shoulders and trying to gracefully jump onto his back. it’s not graceful at all, but thankfully, he holds her up. she tenses up when he says those words because never in a million years did she expect him to say it, out of everyone. she’s never, ever had someone say that to her, and to have deacon be the first one? maybe he… doesn’t hate her as much as she assumed? or maybe she’s hallucinating. that seems plausible. she’s a bit high on pain right now. either way, she tightens her arms around his neck a bit, not wanting to strangle him when he’s only trying to help. 

                ❛ yeah, well… i’ve got you too, ponyboy. i mean, not right now because i’m… you know. there’s a knife inside me. you know what that’s like. thank you, deacon. i owe you a looooot of caps, oh boy. ❜ she smiles, setting her cheek against the back of his neck. stronger than he looks, and maybe even kinder than he comes off as. 

[riflepackin-blog]

boss can u spare a stealth boy im in need

deacon u can’t just leave me in this hell alone

[blightbled-blog]

( hands. )

learn all about my muse’s physical features.

he hasn’t really got much going on with them, save for sweaty palms here and there. they’re large, definitely in proportion to his height. alistair’s running at 6’3’’ and his hands don’t lack in size either. they’re pretty callused after years and years of fighting and hard work. his hands are (or maybe were, given that they’ve grown accustomed to the harsh conditions they’re subjected to) somewhat sensitive, but he really neglects to take care of them. during the events of the fifth blight, they suffered through cold months – cracked skin wasn’t anything uncommon, and he often went to leliana or wynne on the upkeep, but neglected to listen to them. they’re rough and, even with some smoothing over, pretty coarsened over the years.