Maria i need you to know that Gage casually wearing Tracie's heart shaped glasses (with his eYEPATCH UNDERNEATH??) and lowering them to "I beg your fucking pardon" at someone is the most important mental image I've been graced with this week
It will no longer be just a mental image, thank you
3, 11, 24 for the fallout asks! I hope these haven't all been answered already hfhfhfhf I'm trying
3. Synths, ghouls, supermutants or nightkin? Why?
ghouls!!! they’re really interesting but super underused - they survived the bombs!! and they kept living! they actually Know Shit about the old world and they could impart that wisdom on the rest of the wastelanders!! they’re great for narrative purposes, especially in fallout 4 with its frozen pre-war player character
11. What’s a quest that everyone likes, but you hate?
already answered!
24. Which is your favourite skill?
speech, because i like making characters that are good at talking, and repair, because i am a hoarder and often carry three or more versions of the same weapon - a lot of the time i can repair a gun to perfect condition just by using all those duplicate weapons
hullabadrew replied to your post “do you tend to go for the independent vegas route in terms of the...”
Also the endings are vague about the long-term ramifications of Independent Vegas, leaving it largely up to player interpretation. It's bad if *you* headcanon it's bad - canon doesn't say. Or you can devise how it pans out as a peaceful, flourishing community without the need for a capitalist or imperialist tyrant or central government. Ppl who say it MUST be bad are speaking from believing "no government" and "prosperity" can't coincide bc they love that boot taste.
Vigil for Marius, or Catharsis for Adal? In case one doesn't stick, here's options
Sike I wrote them both together …and only missed the mark a little bit. 3k, some rough family dynamics, but no real warnings. Post-longfic, so some spoilers/some things might not make sense unless you’ve finished Bury the Dream
–
There was a feeling you got from an empty building, a sort of restfulness that went past hearing and into your nerves, a feeling of space and quiet.
So Adal wasn’t sure if it was a sound, or some other sense that had kept her alive this long, that made the hair on her neck prickle.
She listened a moment longer, a hand drifting for the rifle beside her desk. No way one of the animals had gotten in, she’d closed the farmhouse up herself for the evening. The night was still outside, so no chance it was the wind finding a chink the wall. She stood slowly, the brace on her weak right knee scraping gently. Freezing to listen, she kept her eyes on the door to the living area. Nothing moved, and she stepped into it, but the room—what had been the original farmhouse—was empty.
A little dread sank into her gut—if someone had snuck in, they’d come in through the kids’ room. Adal didn’t have a god she felt like thanking, but they were gone with Ulysses as he looked in on the Followers’ Free School project, giving her a few days of peace. But if an invader had decided to try and get to her through them—
She rounded the door fast, rifle up and trained on a shadow as they raised their hands. ”Don’t turn on the light!”
Adal sighed as she lowered the gun. “Marius, knock.”
“I didn’t think you were here,” he said, keeping his voice down. “I need to lie low a while.”
Something wet and snuffling bumped into Adal’s hand, and she suppressed a grimace. “Who’s after you?”
“Maybe no one,” he said. She barely made him out as he stood, keeping below the window. “Maybe people with guns.”
“So you led them here?” Adal let him pass her into the main room, and she waved at the empty childrens’ beds. “Marius, if they had been—”
“If they’d been here, I wouldn’t have come,” he said, sitting against the wall. The lantern in the office, shuttered down as she wrapped up her work, threw a faint stripe of light across his face. “I know you don’t think much of me these days, but I wouldn’t put them at risk.”
Adal pressed her lips tight together, watching as is dog settled beside him, only to stand again and pace through the kitchen “Have you eaten?” she finally said.
“Lately? No,” Marius said, rubbing at the dog’s back as she passed. “Most of it’s been going to Ori.”
“Fattening her up?” Adal said, opening the fridge as she squinted at the dog.
“In a way. You want a puppy?” Marius said.
“No, I do not want a puppy!” she hissed, just remembering to keep her voice down. She passed him half a sandwich on a plate and pulled out a pot of leftovers. “I’ve got two grandchildren, the last thing I need is someone else to teach not to pee in the house.”
“What kind of uncle would I be without offering them a puppy?” he said, taking a bite of the sandwich. He held out the rest to Ori, who gave it a halfhearted sniff and wandered into her office. “Has Ulysses got them?” he said around the next mouthful.
“They’re in Westside for another day or two,” Adal said. On the stove, the noodles were starting to sizzle, and she gave them a poke. “Think you’ll be around that long?”
“I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I can, ma.”
Adal set the spoon down very gently. “All I wanted to know was how long you thought you’d be here.”
He finished the sandwich without speaking, and Adal just let the silence go. Marius was… Difficult, these days. Away for long stretches, only to drop in for a few hours or days, sometimes injured, often looking cautiously over his shoulder. He wouldn’t, or couldn’t, tell her why, and Adal could feel how tenuous the draw was that brought him here; a last resort.
The fried noodles were warmed through, and Adal made a point of passing the window as she reached for some plates. The moon was full and high, but at a glance, she couldn’t see anyone downhill or on the highway, and the bighorner were quiet. “No one on this side.”
“Keep an ear on the back,” he said. He took the plate with his portion, still on the floor, while Adal sat at the table.
She ate studiously, keeping her strength up in case of an all-nighter, but had given the bulk of it to her son. She couldn’t help but watch him; he was picking carefully through the noodles for pieces of banana yucca and setting them aside. The rest he ate ravenously, and it was all Adal could do not to ask what the hell he was up to, that he couldn’t even feed himself. She knew what the reaction would be.
But she could only hold on to it so long. “Are you doing alright?” she asked, and nodded to the door. “Otherwise.”
Marius had all but cleaned his plate, and moved on to savoring the yucca fruit a bite at a time. He raise his eyebrows as he chewed, and shrugged with one shoulder. “Met a guy,” he said, diffident. “Ex-Legion, had a rough time with it. Helped him through the worst, and after things started leveling off for him…” Another shrug.
“I’m glad,” Adal said. Marius’ expression didn’t change, and she frowned. “Why is that so hard for you to believe?”
“You disapprove of everything else I’m doing, why not that, too?”
“I don’t—” Adal made herself lower her voice and stay in her seat. “I don’t even know what you’re doing these days,” she said, trying to look him in the eye. “And I remember when you said you liked Lin and Suno’s youngest boy. One of the older kids got after you, and your brother sat on him as much to make him apologize as to keep me from dragging him by his ear to his folks. Do you remember that?”
He was avoiding her, refolding his legs and peering around the doorframe to the office. Almost to himself, he muttered, “Yeah, I knew he’d come up.”
“My point is,” she said, dredging up all the patience she could, “I’ve never disapproved.”
“Sure.”
She had to take a deep breath and count from ten before speaking. “Marius. Why can’t—”
He rolled to his feet, silent. She let him go, and heard him whisper, “Oh, shit.”
“What is it?” She expected to see him looking out the window, but by the tie she got to her office, he was kneeling with his head under her desk. A thought struck her, and Adal rubbed at her eyes. “How long has she been…?”
“Long enough, I guess,” he said, leaning back. The dog was tucked into the corner, the folded blanket Adal used as a cushion wadded up under her. She panted, a little glassy-eyed, and hardly tried to wag when Marius smoothed her ears back. “At least you’re somewhere safe, girl.”
Adal straightened up, leaning on the corner of the desk. She glanced through a hole in the curtain as she did, and said, “The folks who might be following you. Raider types?”
Marius’ hand went to the machete at his waist. “Yeah. I had to—”
“I don’t wanna know,” she said. “They know you’re my son?”
His eyes narrowed. “They shouldn’t.”
“Good,” she said, picking up her rifle. “Stay here. Keep the dog quiet.”
She flipped a switch for the floodlights as she flung the door open, and three figures were still shielding their eyes as she held her gun ready. They wore improvised armor, whatever bits of plate and padding they could easily tie to themselves, but clean and well-maintained, and their guns weren’t the usual half-rusted salvage of a Jackal or Viper. One of them squinted against the lights, not quite pointing a shotgun at her, in the shadows behind the floodlights. “You aren’t—”
“Get off my property.”
The other two relaxed slightly at her voice. The third, who had spoken, tipped his head so his eyes would be shaded by the edge of an old motorcycle helmet. “We’re looking for a man who might have come through here, with a dog. We—”
“Ain’t seen him,” Adal said. “And I don’t appreciate you creeping round my place in the dead of night, so get your asses gone before I start shooting.”
“He took a—”
“You really ain’t much of a listener.” Adal set her feet more firmly, lifting the barrel of her gun. “Or from around here.”
The stranger hesitated, then holstered his gun, putting up his hands. “You see him then, ma’am, you shoot him down. He’s a thief and a liar, and we’ll pay well for his head.”
She didn’t move. “Not real trustworthy yourselves, sneaking around an old lady’s home in the dead of night,” she said. “You take your affairs out of my desert before I see you out myself.”
One of them did a double-take as they sidled off, and leaned to whisper urgently to their leader. He glanced back, and they sped up, just shy of running, as they headed for the highway. Adal stayed put until they were out of sight, noting the two other shadows joining them from the back of the house.
She left the lights on when she went back in. Marius was still crouched, machete drawn, and didn’t relax as she sat at her desk chair, pushed back into the room. “Five of them?” she said.
“At most,” he said, and settled again, laying the blade on the floor. He looked immediately towards his dog, who was still panting uneasily.
It was the only sound for a while, and Adal leaned forward, rubbing her hands together. “Do I want to know what that was about?”
He shrugged. “You haven’t asked me about anything else.”
“Because you do this!” She spread her hands at him, composure finally breaking. “Because the second I do you’re looking down your nose, or calling me prying, or found some other reason to push back when all I want to do is help!”
“Do you? Or can you just not stand having one person in the Mojave who doesn’t let you lord over them?” he hissed.
“I don’t lord over anyone!”
“Right, meddling in everyone’s business just makes you a kind neighbor,” Marius said, leaning back against the desk drawer. “I’m sure they’re all overjoyed that you know better than them.”
“Only people I ‘meddle’ with are the ones big enough to hurt the rest of ‘em,” she said. “Seeing as I’m the biggest of ‘em all, it falls on me to make sure nobody’s getting taken advantage of.”
“With your killer robot army.”
She sighed. “With my killer robot army.”
He snorted. Adal sat back a little, looking over at the desk. She could make out the faint shine off of Ori’s eye, and stood, waving to Marius. “Come on. Let’s give her a little space.”
“What if she needs help?” he said, reaching to pet her.
“Check on her now and then,” Adal said. “She’s a good healthy thing, and dogs’ve been doing this a long time without our help. If I’ve learned anything with Ulysses playing farmer, it’s that she’ll go quicker without us hovering.”
He followed her back to the kitchen, taking a seat at the table. “I think that’s the first nice thing you’ve ever said about her.”
“She licked in my mouth once,” Adal said, sitting across from him. “In my mouth, and I’ve seen what she does with that tongue.”
The light from the floods leaked in through gaps in the walls, and she could just make out his wry grin. It faded as she stared at him, until he said, “Well? I know you want to keep scolding me.”
“I don’t want to scold you,” she said. “I just want to talk.”
He shifted, folding one leg up onto the chair. “About?”
Adal watched him a moment longer, leaning on her elbow, face in her hand. He started to fidget again, looking away and shuffling where his ankle rested on his other leg, before she finally said, “Anything. You. The enemies you’re making.”
“Like you haven’t made a few enemies.”
“This is different.”
“How?” He leaned away, putting his face in shadow. “Because you don’t have someone trying to second-guess you every chance they get?”
“I got more people holding me accountable than you do,” she snapped, and bit her lip. She tried to search his face. “Are you working for the Temple still?”
Marius shook his head. “I burned too many bridges out east. Safer I don’t deal with them.”
“Do you work for anyone?”
“Not anymore.”
Adal sighed. “I’ll take that on it’s face. You got anyone watching your back? This young man of yours?”
“We’re still…complicated,” he said, with a shrug. “Just me and Ori, or the most part.”
“So why burn all those bridges just to…what? Keep using the name they gave you as a slave while you struggle to get by?”
She heard the sharp intake of breath, saw his shoulders square up in shadow. “I’ve been Marius a hell of a lot longer than Alam. You know whose fault that is.”
“I do,” she said, levelly. “A lot of us got a piece of it, from me to Caesar to Peda and every Legionary who ever held a machete in that moment. But I know, too, it’s easier to blame the one of us in front of you than accept that.”
The chair scraped across the floor as he stood. Adal didn’t stop him, staring down at the tabletop as he stormed back into her office. She heard him murmur to the dog, and waited a few moments longer after he went quiet. When he showed no signs of returning, Adal went to turn down the bed, behind the screen hiding it from the rest of the room.
Adal grimaced at herself, rubbing at her face, and flicked her hands as though she could throw the feelings away. They’d just picked up right where they’d left off.
She had gotten as far as folding her duster on the foot of the bed and getting one boot off by the time she heard footsteps. “I did it for them,” Marius said. She leaned around the screen to see him gesture towards the kids’ room. “Them and all the other children that would have grown up to be some fucking broken thing like me. So I’m not going to sit here and listen to you pity me. I made my choices.”
Adal took her time, wrapping the laces neatly into her boot and setting it beside the other before looking up at him. “And you still got more to make, every day. And it’s starting to weigh on you.”
He shifted his weight, like he’d moved to speak or gesture again, but cut it short.
“Are you happy, with what you’re doing?” Adal said, voice low. “You say yes, I’ll stop. You tell me, one time that this is the life you want to be leading, lonely and dangerous as it is…and I’ll leave you to it.”
It was a long moment before he looked up at her. She heard him take a breath—and let it out in wordless frustration as he turned back for the office.
“Oh, dearling.” He paused when she stood, but didn’t look at her as she put her arms around him. “You’re still my son. My son, so I’m sorry you started ahead of the game on stubbornness.”
“Don’t give yourself too much credit,” he said as he pulled away. “I’ve had plenty of other teachers.”
“I know,” she said, keeping a hand on his shoulder, and gave it a squeeze when she didn’t shake it off. “Can we talk? Just talk? No judgment. Just you and me, as equals.”
His voice was rough. “Find that hard to believe.”
She let go of him, trying to study his face in the dark. “Marius, I’m scared.”
He didn’t say anything, but tipped his head to look at her sidelong. “I know you aren’t that same little boy I lost twenty years ago. I know you’re your own man, and I want to respect that, much as I can. But Marius, see what I’m seeing: You just show up, whenever you please, no explanations, and go again whenever you like. You’d been shot last time. Shot. I know that’s the world we’re in, but you wouldn’t say a word to why it happened, or why you couldn’t see an actual doctor for it. Half the time, you haven’t eaten in days. Ulysses says you never talk about what you’re doing, out there alone.” She stopped to wipe at her eyes. “I know you aren’t that boy I lost, but I just feel like I’m losing you again. Every time you leave, I wonder if I’ll ever see you come back. All I want… All I want is a chance to get to know you, before you disappear one more time.”
He was backlit by the glow of the lights outside, but Adal could just make out a sort of grimace, the glint of something on his cheek. “Well, there’s at least one more dog in there than there was an hour ago,” he said, nodding towards the office.
“There’s the same number, actually,” she said, following him in. “They’ve just moved around a bit.”
He sat on the floor by the desk. Ori was washing a puppy within an inch of its life, nearly bowling it over with every lick. “Pedantry,” he said.
“Self-defense against my husband,” she said, taking her chair. “Now, did you mean to breed her, or…?”
Marius warmed to the subject slowly, distracted by the little ball of fuzz. Eventually, he covered the front of the desk with another blanket, but stayed sitting beside it, facing his mother.
And, until it grew bright enough outside that she went to turn off the lights, they just talked.
—
Adal was sitting at the kitchen table, sorting through a pile of mail, when she heard voices coming up the path. The door banged open a moment later, and Paz threw her backpack on the floor to dig through it. “Gramma! Look what I did at the school, I made—”
She went instantly silent when she looked up, pressing her finger to her lips to mirror Adal. “Something made a nest under my desk while you were gone,” she whispered. Paz’s eyes went wide. “I’ve been too scared to go look, can you and your brother be very brave and go scouting for me?”
She nodded solemnly, taking Pike’s hand when Ulysses set him down in the doorway. He watched them go, raising an eyebrow at her, and she lifted a finger. Wait.
There were whispers, followed by a delighted scream from the other room. She smiled a little wryly, and said, “You’d been talking about getting a dog to keep an eye on the herd.”
“And you refused,” Ulysses said, a bit of resignation—and accusation—in his voice. “What changed your mind?”
“Talked with an expert,” Adal said, folding her hands. “Sounds like he’ll hang around a while, he’d be happy to fill you in on the details.”
Marius followed the children back in, and Paz held up the pup with white feet, cupped carefully in her hands. “It’s so little,” she said, hushed, as Ulysses crouched down for a look.
She watched the four of them admire it, petting its still-folded ears and talking in low tones. Her family.
Marius looked up at her, as he took the puppy back from his niece. The smile on his face faded gently as he met her eyes.
And came back as he looked away, taking it back to its mother.
hullabadrew replied to your post: shoutout to yesterday when my mom asked if i had...
“it’s the computers fault”
“has my and my ex-husband’s insistence on control and refusal to accept our child has friends online that are more important than their irl relationships to blame? no, it is the computers fault”
