#paythepryce

[whatwastelanders]

Smash or Pass - John/anyone

[Prompt]

Rori smirked and shook her head, as if she knew it was going to be asked. “I’m sure he’s waiting around the corner or in a bush or something for my answer, so I’ll just keep it short: smash. He can wear the sunglasses if he wants, but I get to wear the jacket.”

[thawedwonder]

Crazy He Calls Me [John, Rori]

It was supposed to be easy. That’s what they had told her. It’s a small, abandoned building not too far from the road. A little mom and pop shop that probably didn’t have much, but who knew? Besides, the guy who had told the Minutemen about the place had left their stuff. They wanted it back.

But it wasn’t abandoned: there were at least a half dozen, probably more, feral ghouls all around the place. Rori’s stomach tightened, she always felt badly for the ferals. They were heartbreaking to witness, especially those that seemed to cling to old items of importance in their lifetime: a teddy bear, a watch, hell, even a spoon. It reminded Rori of her grandmother when she had gone through dementia: so unlike herself, but with little glimpses of who she had been here or there.

Rori unsnapped the button on her holster for her pistol, making it easier for her to pull if the ferals noticed her. Not wanting to make too much noise by firing, and definitely not wanting to waste ammo, she pulled a solid mahogany baseball bat from a homemade sling on her back and readied it just in case. If she got surprised, at least she’d have something to whack them backwards.

She had tried to be as quiet as possible, but she could have sworn she had heard a voice: not a feral’s grunt or wheeze, but an actual, comprehensible voice. Not just speaking: but singing. It took her a minute to recognize the song, and she let out a quiet laugh and shook her head. Amazing. 

Suddenly, a bowling pin flew from around the corner. A feral tore from behind the wall she had been leaning against, chasing the pin. It let out a gargled noise and leaned to grab it, but missed. It kicked the pin backwards and turned. Instead of leaning to grab it again, though, it looked up: directly at Rori.

“Shit.”

[whataradscavver]

💎

send me a 💎 and my muse will rate your muse’s physical appearance on a scale of 1-10 [x]

Post-War

“Best-lookin’ ghoul this side of the Commonwealth,” Asher replied with a shake of his head, as if it was obvious. “He’s a solid six…ty-nine.” His laughter rang out through the room, and continued for some time.

Pre-War

“Sonofabitch that’s John?” Asher cried incredulously. “Shite, an’ here I thought I was mostly into women. I’d marry that bastard in a fuckin’ heartbeat. He’s a ten, if we’re goin’ with t’at scale. By me own scale though: still a sixty-nine, but for more obvious reasons.

[akickinthehead]

💚 - friendship 💙 - kinship ( blood or symbolic familial bond ) and because this is John we're talking about 💟 - friends with benefits

[Prompt]

While I could see the friendship and kinship happening 100%, I’m not entirely sure about the last. Not that they wouldn’t be flirty as heck with one another, and hell who knows with enough booze in their systems?

[thawedwonder]

💎 for pre-war John?

send me a 💎 and my muse will rate your muse’s physical appearance on a scale of 1-10 [x]

“Holy fuck,” Rori blurted, not even bothering to quiet her voice. A grin spread across her face and she made a point of fanning herself. “Hot damn, John. I can only imagine the kind of trouble we would’ve gotten into if we had known one another before the bombs.”

She took a moment to really study the image, before finally shaking her head.

“Well, I mean, he’s a practically a ten now, so he was - what - a twelve back then? A thirteen? What an absolute shit for being that attractive..”

(Basically this).

[akickinthehead]

“Now there’s the smile made of sunlight.”

[Prompt]

“John, it ain’t even sunup yet and you’re gonna make me blush,” he said with a laugh that turned into a yawn and then a stretch. “Ya gotta let me wake up more before ya start layin’ on the flattery there, bub. Compliments ain’t gonna get ya nowhere if I can’t keep ‘em in my head for more than a second.”

[akickinthehead]

“So are we gonna play cards or screw around?”

[Prompt]

He laughed at the ghoul’s words and picked up his bottle of whiskey, taking a hard swallow before raising a brow at John.

“With you, I’m pretty sure I’ve got a good idea what ‘screwin’ around’ pertains too,” he said with another laugh, pulling his deck from his satchel. 

“Let’s see where the cards lead us.”

[akickinthehead]

“See how I’m not punching him? I think I’ve grown.”

[Prompt]

“I think he could stand to be punched,” Novac said with a small shrug. “At least once... maybe twice for good measure.”