#thxlostyxars

[vcultgirl]

@thx-lost-yxars asked: “   Great.  Just fucking great.   ”

This is probably a bad idea.

She repeated this thought as she approached the man, who was grumbling under his breath. He was tinkering with a… motorcycle? Obviously, she had never seen one in real life before, but it resembled what she knew to be that type of vehicle. When Lucy stopped a short distance away—close enough to speak, but not close enough to get stabbed—she gave a small wave. Then she felt stupid for doing so.

"Hi! That's a nice motorcycle you've got there. Where’d you get it?" Oh wait, did that sound like she was interested in stealing it? Fudge.

"Oh, not that I’m going to try and take it or anything. I wouldn't even know how to drive it." It was hard to be sociable with wastelanders—Lucy never had this problem in Vault 33. She ran the book club, for goodness sake! She loved talking for long periods of time, but here on the surface she felt like she was saying all the wrong things.

‘Do you need a hand?’ She’d been a member of the Young Pipefitter's Association in the vault, so maybe she could apply some of that knowledge here?

[themultiversemercs]

"Spare any caps?" { Scratch asks, holding out his hand for "charity". }

Arch stopped for a moment, checking through his pockets to find a few spare caps that he would not need for anything. With a warm smile he handed over the caps, coming to around 100 caps. "You got food for the night, mate?"

[deathfcllcws]

@thx-lost-yxars continued from here

{ Dead men barely bothered Scratch. The Fiend looked upon the corpse with little interest. The gunman was dead; without much trouble to them. The Fiend was impressed with Warren’s speed and reflex. One second late, Warren would have been dead instead. }

{ Upon hearing Warren’s suggestion, Scratch shakes his head. }

“Buzzards gotta eat. Besides, I’m burying his worthless corpse.”  

{ There was another matter, which interest Scratch. Moving over towards the corpse, Scratch kneeled down. He started searching the man, mindful though about not touching the blood. }

“You want a cut? This guy must be carrying something nice.”

“Got a point there.”

With a twirl around his finger, the revolver was soon returned to its holster on the cowboy’s hip. Warren was hardly surprised to see Scratch begin to loot what belongings were on the corpse. It had hardly even begun to turn cold.  

Turning away, he surveyed the surroundings to make sure the man didn’t have any friends that would suddenly appear. He still heard what the other had said, and considered what, if anything, he could want from the deceased.

“I’ll split whatever cap’s he’s got with ya.” Warren looked down to Scratch as he added, “Fifty-fifty sound fair?”

[courierfuckinsix]

@thx-lost-yxars 

Lucy had set herself up a nice little hidey-hole out in the middle of the Mojave for when she needed a place to rest between long deliveries. It was just a little cave, more of an alcove, really, nothing special, but she had it stocked with old cans of corn and beans, blankets, a first aid kit--all scraped together with her own two hands. It was perfect.

So naturally, naturally she’d swing by only to find a fucking looter rifling through her shit--and after a bad run-in with some radscorpions, she was in a pissy mood. No patience for communication.

She crept up behind the intruder on silent feet, straightened, and sucker-punched him in the back of the head.

[standingxbear]

Fight | Scratch & Standing Bear

@thx-lost-yxars​ sent: 

❝ I don’t know if you’ve been in a fight before, but there’s usually not this much talking. ❞

[ Captain America starters ]

“Well, I was rather hoping there did not have to be a fight. Tell me what you are doing on this property and tell me the truth... and perhaps no one will have to get injured. My name is Standing Bear. And I was taught that names and their meaning are very important. What is yours?”

[forgiveyesterday]

🎐- Does your muse like to collect/hoard anything? 📇- Is your muse a gossiper?🕹- What does your muse do to occupy themselves when bored? 🤝- Does your muse forgive others easily?

[Prompt]

🎐- Does your muse like to collect/hoard anything? 

Knives. It was a collection he kept up before the war and one he continues to this day. Typically, it’s because they’re useful weapons. Occasionally, he’ll keep a “pretty” or otherwise decorative knife simply because he likes the way it looks.

📇- Is your muse a gossiper?

No. Even before the war, Jimmy was never one for gossip. He’ll listen, sure, because all information can be useful information, but he rarely indulges unless he finds the matter particularly interesting.

(Or thinks he can embarrass his closest friends in a mostly harmless way). 

🕹- What does your muse do to occupy themselves when bored? 

Reading about machinery and weapons, usually while twirling a knife around in his hand. Keeps his dexterity and mind sharp. Otherwise, he’ll try to tinker around with things. While not the most knowledgeable on building and repair, Jimmy likes to challenge himself into figuring out a problem he runs into that way he can learn.

🤝- Does your muse forgive others easily?

It depends on the scale of things. If it’s a “small slight” then yeah. James won’t lose any sleep about it and he won’t think about it more than at the time of the issue. Usually, he’ll try to talk it over with the person themselves, unless it’s something that doesn’t need/can’t be discussed. 

If it’s something truly unforgiving - we’re talking harming someone James’ cares for in a way that can’t be undone or turning someone over to the Institute or another type of slavery - then no. He’s not. He’s stubbornly unforgiving and will spit on your theoretical grave until he gets to spit on your actual grave - be it James putting you underground himself or otherwise.

[fallcloaked]

The sound of a motorcycle was unmistakable. On the hill, he appears. Scratch on his bike, already seeing the mage. With a rebel yell, The Fiend charges down the hill.

Asked by @thx-lost-yxars

He'd barely gotten up a few seconds ago when he hears the motorcycle heading his way. He doesn't have time for his normal checks, or even rightly remembering which cards he had tuned to himself. Which meant for now his sleep addled brain decided that running was his best option. He'd leave the fire burning, alongside a good bit of the food he'd gathered, he could always get more of both if it really came to it.

[courier2lw]

“oh my god, why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?!” - @courier2lw

@thx-lost-yxars​

{ The mongrel’s teeth had found their purchase. Scratch unwrapped the bloodied bandage, showing his wounds. The bite of the hound was powerful, frenzied. In their struggle, Scratch could see the hunger in its eyes. The hunger that drove its ferocity. }

{ Despite the savagery of the animal, Scratch won. The beast was dead. Still, Scratch paid the price for his carelessness. The beast had marked him. It could have been worse, had West not intervened. }

{ The experience troubled Scratch. Since he was a child, he feared dogs. There was some, unexplained dread he felt about them. A creeping phobia. The fear grew into adulthood. He remembered when he witnessed a man being mauled. The vicious, tearing bites, that tore him to shreds. }

{ The image was fresh in his mind. Fresher now with the experience Scratch felt.  He winces as he cares for his wound. He was limited with his medicine, but the wound can be cleaned. Disinfected. Grabbing a bottle of moonshine, he pours the sprit over the wound. The Fiend winces and bites his lip. Cursing about the stinging pain. He glared slightly at the courier, then shrugs. }

“You’re not my brother’s keeper. Besides, I can care for myself.”

“That bite’s too deep just to bandage up,” West was a medical professional, but he couldn’t help but make a face over the egregiousness of the sight before him. He should have known better. The fiends and raiders and less savory people he often came across (that didn’t immediately want to kill him) were more bullheaded than most Legionaries (he imagined, haha pun intended).

“Let me stitch it up. I’ll be gentle,” West half jokes, but his voice is careful. He’s fairly sure Scratch might just refuse to be stubborn, as he’s just stated he could look after himself. But the wound was deep and wide even if they seemed small. A few good rips and smaller teeth marks. But a fucking dog’s mouth? West didn’t want to take that chance with his traveling partner.

He wouldn’t exactly call them friends, but...

“You loose that arm, you’re not any good to me or yourself. I know how to help, lemme help.” West gave a shrug, attempting to appeal to Scratch’s practicality. Surely he couldn’t argue to much with that. West had more knowledge in this department, facts were facts.