#oc:sun

[luxuryvanitysims]

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[broodtxt]

self indulgent piece about my fallout oc, Sun

She noticed a chill in the air when she woke, not thinking much of it at first. The focus was on getting herself out of the bedroll, stiff with the cold nights sleep on the hard ground. She was debating about starting a fire or setting out to find better shelter when the implications hit her: winter was on its way. She glanced up at the sky, considering the way it darkened so early during winter pre-war. She had no idea what kind of weather to expect from a winter in the wasteland. Shelter it is, then. She whistles for Dogmeat, smiling at him and noticing her chapped lips in doing so. He butted his head under her hand and she obliged by leaning down to pet him, running his soft ears through her fingers. "Good boy," she idly praised, smiling again when his tail started wagging.

She packed up fast, debating whether she should just head back to Sanctuary. It was safe, she knew, and the remaining walls cut the wind in half, but it ate at her to remain there. Haunted by pre-war images imposed over the wasted landscape, remembering her neighbors' faces as she saw the torn up wrecks of houses that had once been their pride. It was still a good idea, but she was also a few days of walking away from it and that detail was enough to justify seeking new shelter. Carla had marked Diamond City pretty roughly on Sun's map, so she just had a sort of 'go inside the city' level of direction to go on, but more populous areas were the next obvious step. Concord hadn't given her any answers -- more questions, if anything -- and she still needed information about Shaun.

At this point, she wasn't sure what she was chasing: him, or closure. Pre-war, everything had happened so damn fast... not a week before she was being cryogenically frozen, she was out shopping. She'd tried a witch hat on in the store and had laughed at her reflection. She'd been wearing lipstick. And now she was awake, had been for maybe a month, and the idea of picturing her infant boy anywhere in this world... she couldn't. She just couldn't, she couldn't superimpose him and his clean pajamas and his late-night crying on a world that smelled of ash and blood on a good day. Then again, she couldn't superimpose herself in that world, either. The red-lipped woman in the store had her face, sure, but it was like two entirely different lives. She couldn't fathom her past carelessness now.

No. She took a steadying breath (what she could get of one, through the goggled face mask) and drew her pistol, hearing Dogmeat come to a stop ahead of her. She needed to stay here, in the moment, in the constant war-zone. She clicked the safety off and nodded, mostly to herself, but Dogmeat gave a responsive little whine anyway. "C'mon, boy." She started walking, grateful for the slight fog, chilly though it was. "Let's go to Diamond City."

Dogmeat barked and followed.