Skippy's Fallout Muses

AKA Craig Boone & Deacon + Fallout Verses For Other Muses

[wasteland-muses]

PINNED POST WIP

Rules/Mun | Muses: Craig Boone, Deacon | Interest Tracker | Open Starters Masterposts | Ask Memes | NSFW Sideblog | Hub Blog | Personal Blog | Ao3 Account

[wasteland-muses]

That whole almost dying thing? Yeah, that hurt way less than the look on West's face. Deacon shut his mouth and listened for once, not even giving more than a pout when told Arto wasn't around.

Even after West was through, Deacon actually took the time to think about how to go about this. "As far as I know, no. But I....I had a wife once, Barbara." A bitter laugh, just the sound of her name gripping tight at his chest. "I'll get into the nitty gritty once it's just us, but after she was killed, and we found out the truth, they;" A nod towards West's pipboy. "Managed to find me and took me on. That was...fuck, I couldn't even tell you how long ago that was. I..."

He sounded choked up now, both from talking about his past, and hearing that West thought he hadn't trusted him. Deacon trusted West more than he trusted himself, and it was time he knew it. All of it.

"I almost fucked up again. Just a stupid fuck trying to protect you, when you don't even need protecting!" He was trying not to shout, if only for the pain it sent rattling through his chest, but was rapidly failing. "I got scared, alright? That's the truth. I got scared that you were going to get hurt because of me. I wasn't about to let someone else that I love die because of me." And it was the truth, the whole painful truth, fit with tears now being wiped from Deacon's cheeks with the heel of his palm. "I thought if maybe I kept it all from you, bounced whenever trouble was brewing, that it would be for the best. But if it's between you staying with me or leaving me to rot, I...You're the only fuckin' thing I got, West. I'm already fucked up, but without you...I dunno if I could ever be anyone but Deacon until the day I die." One day, maybe he didn't have to be Deacon, but the trouble was, he couldn't remember what that felt like, not witout someone pulling it out of him, just like this.

"When can we get out of here? I want to tell you the rest, show you the switchboard, the base, all of it." Now that the truth had come out, he was itching to tell it all. "There's- Fuck!" A jolt of pain as he tried to stand, something he tried to gritt his teeth through, no matter how dizzy it was making him. "I need to tell you the ciphers, and you need a codename- Doctor is aready taken though, maybe Wanderer? You do a lot of that, or-" He was just trying to fill the silence now, the idea of not talking, of giving in to the quiet hurting more than the coughs rattling his chest.

[courier2lw]

"Deacon!" West jumped up as Deacon started to get up, the pain hitting the other as West gently pushed at his shoulders to get him back down into a resting positions.

Ciphers and codenames could fucking wait. West kicked himself for not reacting sooner when Deacon had made the move. He'd been lost in his own world of thought. All these secret between them. The Railroad, Barbara. Whoever was after Deacon, West assumed at least one party would be the Institute... Whether Deacon was a synth himself or because of his work with the Railroad. But West was just as guilty of keeping secrets. They had great laughs together and maybe that's why they enjoyed each other so much. Because they never dared to dive deeper. Because, maybe on some level, they were both afraid the other would like them if they did.

"Christ, Deacon, stay down..." It came out angrier than West meant it. He sighed, towering over Deacon and his frustrated expression softened. West was not a great liar. By omission, yes, but even when avoiding a subject it was painfully clear he was deflecting. His expression at seeing, and really looking, at Deacon this way: bare and vulnerable, stuck an obvious nerve within West. He swallowed hard, feeling his eyes burn with tears and his hand moved to wipe at Deacon's face with his thumb. He cupped Deacon's cheek, his thumb grazing under Deacon's eye. Then West withdrew, sitting back down. He took a deep breath.

"It'll be a few more days. We could only spare the one stim and that did most of the grunt work in keeping your lungs from collapsing entirely. So stop fucking trying to get out of bed." West shook his head. He looked thoughtful for a moment, regret etched over his face. "You're not the only one with bad people after you. I ...still don't remember everything, but I've been remembering a lot more since returning to the east coast. I grew up in DC. In a Vault. I did... some real terrible shit when I left it. I also angered a lot of terrible people. So... I guess we both need protecting, in a way."

[wasteland-muses]

Like a child scolded, Deacon sunk in on himself once met with West's unintended anger, a meek sorry he'd wheezed out as he settled back down perhaps the most truthful thing of this entire ordeal. He was sorry, and now that it was all out, he'd do anything to make up for it. West may have yet to realize it, but he had a very powerful ally in the Railroad agent, with Deacon yet to realize that if it came between West and his work, he'd derail from those train tracks entirely. Not without question or self-doubt, but for as much purpose as it gave him, he'd leave with West if it ever came to that.

Deacon couldn't help but flinch at the touch to his cheek, not out of any sort of fear, but the pure unknown such an action brought. West had touched him many times since they'd met, he was a doctor after all. Aside from that, there were times they'd had to cuddle for warmth, where close calls were met with frantic, relieved hugs, and Deacon's favorite 'con' to pull, 'you gotta hold my hand so we don't get lost. Big place, little Deacon, never know what I might get up to'. This was different, though; this wasn't out of instinct or for a joke. Where his hand came to rest over West's as his eyes squeezed shut, his chest stuttering in a painful breath, it was touch meant to comfort, to support, and Deacon had only just realized how long it had been since he'd let himself feel like this, since he'd allowed himself the luxary of comfort when he needed it.

As dejecting as the touch leaving him was, not to mention the whole baring his soul thing, the idea that he'd have to wait days at the very least to put an end to this was by far the worst part of it all. But there wasn't a single thing Deacon could do about it, not a single damn thing.

"You? Angering people? What, they didn't like your medical advice?" They might be equally in the dark about each other, but West pissing someone off to the extent that was implied seemed impossible with how Deacon had come to know him. "No wait, I bet you botched a surgery to off a mob boss, and now his guys are after ya, right? Or maybe you were such a good doctor, someone got jealous and dragged your name through the mud so they could be top Doc."

Jokes being made as more of a coping mechanism, an ingrained habit to deflect, Deacon bounced from the jest back to business in a mere breath, it seeming like a light had been flipped off in his eyes as he grew serious once again. "Let me see your pipboy for a second, I know a supply cache that shouldn't be too far from here. I can't promise it'll have much, but at this point, anything would help, right?"

[redrock-reloaded]

@wasteland-muses liked for a starter

For as long as he could remember, Jessup could never sleep in old-world buildings. There was something about them. The trapped stuffy air, the creak and groan of the floors, pressing walls. All of it unsettled him. Even the gentle snores and shift of fabric of his fellow Khans, usually a comfort, did not ease his mind. After a few hours of laying down with his eyes screwed shut, Jessup gave up and moved outside.

It was cool outside. Up above the stars twinkled down. Novac was lit by dim electric bulbs, not nearly as bright as the Strip off in the distance. Jessup squinted at the horizon and the pale haze where the sun would soon rise, where the black sky started fading to blue. It'd be dawn soon. Didn't Manny say his shift started before dawn?

Jessup plopped his ass down in the dirt in the motel courtyard, kicking a burnt-out firepit with his boots. He brought a rough hand to his jacket pocket where his fingers wrapped around a metal tin. It was beat up and rusty but it did its job well enough-- keeping tobacco from filling his pockets. He rolled himself a cigarette and watched the sun peak over the horizon, almost certain that Manny was supposed to be on duty by now.

[wasteland-muses]

He'd seen the Kahns come into town, most likely before they even saw that dino peeking out over the hills. They were hard to miss, and while Boone would rather they take their business elsewhere, the Kahns were admittedly one of the better groups hanging around the wastes. So he'd played nice, even shot a wandering ghoul that had taken an interest in them from a ways off, not that he expected any of them to notice. They'd come into town, a few being heard down in the store below asking about Manny. Of course, he should have guessed.

Well, whatever, they were in town and looking for Manny, so that made them Manny's problem if something went down.

Still...they had been awful quiet through the night, Boone having heard a distant conversation or two before doors muffled the sound, meaning they'd bought a room. With the sun peeking over the horizon now, Boone was officially off duty, so it couldn't hurt to hang around down in the courtyard to make sure the quiet night carried on into the morning when those doors opened up again.

He hadn't expected one of them to be outside, not with how early it was. He doubted this guy was the look-out either, seeing as the doors locked at the motel. Boone knew parinoia, but even this seemed a little excessive. "The point of staying in a town is to sleep indoors. On a bed." Curt and to the point as he came down the dino's steps, his rifle swung over his shoulder with practiced ease. "What are you doing here if it's not to sleep." He knew, at least as far as they were looking for Manny, but he wanted to see how free they were with that information to someone with a gun on his back instead of toy dinos...well, everywhere.

[wasteland-muses]

"You listened to it." It had been the only thing able to come out of Deacon's mouth once he caught sight of that holo, unsure if he was happy West finally knew, anxious because he'd have to explain himself now, or just plain sick from all the bullshit his body had gone through in the last handful of hours. "...Good." His voice cracked, but with the amount of pure emotion behind it, it was genuine. Not to mention the tears that welled up in his eyes, Deacon seeming to forget he didn't have his sunglasses. "Good." He could safely say that he was feeling happy, anxious and sick all at the same time. "I'll tell you everything, if it means you'll stay." Okay, maybe he was a little woozy on pain medication....wait, did they even give him anything to be woozy on?

Didn't matter, he'd blame all of this on 'all the Good Shit' they'd given him later on. West would know better, he always did.

Any further worry was set aside at the jest, Deacon able to give a joke in turn with the back of a hand coming up to rest on his forehead like a distressed damsel. "Oh noooo, anything but that! You'll doctor me to death!" Really it was the oppisite, but hush, it was for his joke. "Drink more water, take your medicine, 'no Deacon we are not eating the week old molerat Artoo dug up-'"

Wait a minute-

"Where's my buddy?! I'm bedridden, I need my little buddy!!"

[courier2lw]

There was a brief flash of anger when the words 'if it means you'll stay' rolled out of Deacon's mouth. But he was too damn tired for it. He shifted in his chair, heaving a short sigh and looked away from Deacon, swallowing that anger, taking a deep breath. Deacon could have just been sliced in half. And nearly was killed.

"He's not here. He's staying with a friend. With his teeth, you know, settlements tend to ...have certain prejudice against him..." West gave a shrug, then reassured Deacon that the half dopey dog half night stalker mutt was just fine, "He's safe. This friend of mine actually owns a litter mate of Artoo's so... Look, Deac, I don't care either way, but it's been chewing at me since I listened..." West's hand hovered over his Pipboy, "Are you...?" West trailed off, letting the implication lie. If so, West felt that leaving sooner was better than later. He knew, medically, the only real way to tell a Gen 3 synth from a human was the microchip component the Institute implanted in every synth. And to West synths were just human who were made in a lab instead of by the traditional means and used against their will, for the most part, by the Institute.

"It's commendable, what you do. I want you to know that. I just..." West sighed again. He wasn't mad about Deacon's disappearing. Not anymore. But there was something else. Almost worse.

"I wish you thought you could trust me enough to help."

[wasteland-muses]

That whole almost dying thing? Yeah, that hurt way less than the look on West's face. Deacon shut his mouth and listened for once, not even giving more than a pout when told Arto wasn't around.

Even after West was through, Deacon actually took the time to think about how to go about this. "As far as I know, no. But I....I had a wife once, Barbara." A bitter laugh, just the sound of her name gripping tight at his chest. "I'll get into the nitty gritty once it's just us, but after she was killed, and we found out the truth, they;" A nod towards West's pipboy. "Managed to find me and took me on. That was...fuck, I couldn't even tell you how long ago that was. I..."

He sounded choked up now, both from talking about his past, and hearing that West thought he hadn't trusted him. Deacon trusted West more than he trusted himself, and it was time he knew it. All of it.

"I almost fucked up again. Just a stupid fuck trying to protect you, when you don't even need protecting!" He was trying not to shout, if only for the pain it sent rattling through his chest, but was rapidly failing. "I got scared, alright? That's the truth. I got scared that you were going to get hurt because of me. I wasn't about to let someone else that I love die because of me." And it was the truth, the whole painful truth, fit with tears now being wiped from Deacon's cheeks with the heel of his palm. "I thought if maybe I kept it all from you, bounced whenever trouble was brewing, that it would be for the best. But if it's between you staying with me or leaving me to rot, I...You're the only fuckin' thing I got, West. I'm already fucked up, but without you...I dunno if I could ever be anyone but Deacon until the day I die." One day, maybe he didn't have to be Deacon, but the trouble was, he couldn't remember what that felt like, not witout someone pulling it out of him, just like this.

"When can we get out of here? I want to tell you the rest, show you the switchboard, the base, all of it." Now that the truth had come out, he was itching to tell it all. "There's- Fuck!" A jolt of pain as he tried to stand, something he tried to gritt his teeth through, no matter how dizzy it was making him. "I need to tell you the ciphers, and you need a codename- Doctor is aready taken though, maybe Wanderer? You do a lot of that, or-" He was just trying to fill the silence now, the idea of not talking, of giving in to the quiet hurting more than the coughs rattling his chest.

[wasteland-muses]

It wouldn't be until the sickly sun began to peek over the horizon that Deacon would stir, first with a wheeze, then a strained cough as he aborted a shift to sit up halfway. He was bleary, eyes gazing around the room, only half able to take everything in. It wasn't until they landed on West that clarity seemed somewhat return to those bloodshot blues. "I was gonna celebrate not bein' dead and all, but if I'm lookin' at you, then I must be in Heaven."

He was cracking a smile before he even finished, another wheezy cough breaking it as he attempted to snuff it with a turn of his head into the pillow. "Sorry, that was bad. And untrue. Can you imagine me in Heaven?" There was something ironic about that, calling his own bluff, even as a joke.

His smile shattered once and for all as he tried to get up, movements stiff and staggered as he wheezed in pain. "Th' kid okay?" Worry about yourself, you idiot. "She was crying, she know I'm okay?"

[courier2lw]

"You saved that little girl," West said gently and then moved to place both hands on Deacon's shoulders, as careful as possible to stop him from getting up. And giving Deacon a full view of the holo loaded into his Pip-Boy. But West was hardly thinking about the tape. "She knows you're getting there. We don't have much in the way of supplies, Deac, so you have got to stay down and rest." West heaved a sigh, sitting back in the chair. He then removed his Pip-Boy all together. "I don't think here is the best place to talk about... the holo you gave me. But I want to know more. When we have more privacy." West kept his voice relatively quiet. People milled around or passed through the tent and West didn't want to cause any trouble about Synth when they had just been attacked horribly by robots. West knew they weren't the same. But he didn't want to stir up any trouble with Deacon in such a vulnerable position.

"I guess you're stuck with me for a while," West joked, but he didn't even smile. All his doubts came back. If Deacon had the choice, would he just stay for a day or two and then skip out again?

[wasteland-muses]

"You listened to it." It had been the only thing able to come out of Deacon's mouth once he caught sight of that holo, unsure if he was happy West finally knew, anxious because he'd have to explain himself now, or just plain sick from all the bullshit his body had gone through in the last handful of hours. "...Good." His voice cracked, but with the amount of pure emotion behind it, it was genuine. Not to mention the tears that welled up in his eyes, Deacon seeming to forget he didn't have his sunglasses. "Good." He could safely say that he was feeling happy, anxious and sick all at the same time. "I'll tell you everything, if it means you'll stay." Okay, maybe he was a little woozy on pain medication....wait, did they even give him anything to be woozy on?

Didn't matter, he'd blame all of this on 'all the Good Shit' they'd given him later on. West would know better, he always did.

Any further worry was set aside at the jest, Deacon able to give a joke in turn with the back of a hand coming up to rest on his forehead like a distressed damsel. "Oh noooo, anything but that! You'll doctor me to death!" Really it was the oppisite, but hush, it was for his joke. "Drink more water, take your medicine, 'no Deacon we are not eating the week old molerat Artoo dug up-'"

Wait a minute-

"Where's my buddy?! I'm bedridden, I need my little buddy!!"

[courier2lw]

West didn't even know about Deacon's injury until several hours later. He was just another doctor, wrist deep in a poor woman's stomach. Deacon was just another helping hand, another victim of these rusty monster robots, cobbled together by psychos. A Mr. Gusty saw blade attached to a protectron had sliced up Deacon's back, puncturing through, collapsing a lung.

Another doctor, the real brains of the whole operation, Amanda (not Amata, West had to remind himself, having called her that several times) had informed him of all this after the fact. She had sewn up Deacon and they only had one stimpak to spare, repairing the major damage to his lung. Hopefully it would be enough. Hopefully whatever nerve damage was also repaired, but only time would tell.

The robots were being dismantled, hidden away in trunks and lockers. Night fell. West had some moments to himself, as Deacon in the bed next to him was unconscious, likely to stay that way for the next few hours. West had been in a swimmy daze for the last half hour, since Amanda had spoken to him. Already too tired, drained emotionally and physically by the day's events and now this...

He couldn't cry if he wanted to. And god, did he ever. So what if Deacon just showed up? At least he showed. At least they had a good time and at least Deacon cared for him. And he cared for Deacon. Maybe even loved him. He wasn't sure, not just yet. They never spent enough time to... West's breath hitched in his throat. Would they get enough time?

He got up after a moment, remembering the things Deacon had given him. Those shiny aviator glasses... And West had just tossed them aside like they were nothing. He ignored Deacon's sincere gesture. The holotape... West sat down on the bed again, pulling his pack from under the bed and fishing out his Pip-Boy 3000 and popped in the holo.

Wake up, Commonwealth. Synths are not your enemy. They are victims in this war, as well. True, they were created by the Institute. But they were created as slaves. Thinking, feeling, and dreaming beings utterly oppressed by their tyrannical masters. So join with us in fighting the real enemy: The Institute. Join the Railroad. When you're ready for that next step, don't worry, we'll find you.

West turned the volume down at the word 'synths' and kept his head low, listening to the woman's voice in the holotape. Deacon said this would explain things, help West find him... Was Deacon a synth? Amanda hadn't said anything about it, if she had discovered anything. Or was he a part of this Railroad? Or both? West had more questions. And a little of that anger was back. But he knew that he was just as guilty as hiding as Deacon. How many nights had they spent together and not one serious word passed between them? Not one mention of the past, their childhoods, things that 'the other might hate them for'. No confessions, not ever. If Deacon was willing, if Deacon woke up, West knew that would be changing for the both of them.

[wasteland-muses]

It wouldn't be until the sickly sun began to peek over the horizon that Deacon would stir, first with a wheeze, then a strained cough as he aborted a shift to sit up halfway. He was bleary, eyes gazing around the room, only half able to take everything in. It wasn't until they landed on West that clarity seemed somewhat return to those bloodshot blues. "I was gonna celebrate not bein' dead and all, but if I'm lookin' at you, then I must be in Heaven."

He was cracking a smile before he even finished, another wheezy cough breaking it as he attempted to snuff it with a turn of his head into the pillow. "Sorry, that was bad. And untrue. Can you imagine me in Heaven?" There was something ironic about that, calling his own bluff, even as a joke.

His smile shattered once and for all as he tried to get up, movements stiff and staggered as he wheezed in pain. "Th' kid okay?" Worry about yourself, you idiot. "She was crying, she know I'm okay?"

[mudskip-muses]

so i dunno if anyone would actually be interested but i find myself rping more on discord these days than tumblr so if anyone wants to rp on there let me know!!

[mudskip-muses]

im not dead!!

it may seem like it since ive only been on @the-ultimate-muses and more recently @hells-fvry, but i havent for gotten about all my other blogs! i just have little to no threads depending on which blog is in question, so its gonna seem like my other blogs @speckled-and-spattered @home-plate-muses @the-normandy-and-beyond @wasteland-muses and @super-hero-support-group are all but dead for long stretches of time. im not opposed to writing on those blogs, but those muses have been very distant as of late so im typically not actively searching about to start threads as much. that doesnt mean you cant still send stuff in!! im still around, im just lurking about until i can gather enough mind to write my other muses with the threads i do have uwu that being said i did clean out a large majority of threads simply for my own sanity, there were just too many to handle lol feel free to send new stuff in or dm me to plot, ill be around!! (also this is being reblogged to all my blogs sorry in advance lol)

[courier2lw]

West watched him. Watched his lip do the faintest curl after mentioning the 'raincheck'. It was a bit satisfying to see someone else being awkward. West was no stranger to it, but it was interesting seeing it from a guy who might as well have worn a neon sign saying "Don't fuck with me". He expected Boone just to walk away, disregard the whole damn thing. He did not expect Boone to invite him back to his place. Well, maybe it was just dinner. That was okay, too. And more often than not it was more than what West could even hope for. If he wanted sex he could go spend some caps on the strip. He wasn't sure he wanted that, though he couldn't say he wasn't interested in seeing Boone naked. The man was built like a brickhouse. And a good one, too, not ones in pieces...

There weren't too many brick buildings out here. Where were these memories he conjured up from? Another thing he didn't want to think about. Another thing he was certain, from Boone's entire fucking vibe, his new dinner date wouldn't care to hear.

And could West even trust him? That was what was so exhausting. Not knowing who to trust with this fucking affliction. People were shitheads. West might've had amnesia but he wasn't born yesterday. Tell someone too much about how you can't remember your past and they try to make themselves a part of it somehow. Take advantage. And West wouldn't know how to even tell if they were bullshitting him or not.

"Steaks sound good. I could cook, if you want. I'm not too bad at it. It's just another science after all." West gave a shrug, as if he wasn't starving and hoping not to scare this guy off. For whatever reason-- No, West knew exactly, it was the awkwardness from before-- West liked Boone. The fact that he came to check on him just because he had noticed how long West had been working. That was special.

[wasteland-muses]

The faint curl of his lips into a smile was something he wasn't quick enough to hide, Boone struck feeling what could almost be described as excitement once West had agreed. He assumed it was in relation to finally having the opportunity to avenge his wife, but a part of his mind, the human nature that still clung tight despite all the hardships, knew it was more than that.

What could he say, West was easy on the eyes, and it had been a while since anyone made his chest stutter by just looking at him. In another life, maybe this sort of thing might work out, but Boone knew that letting West get that close could only spell disaster. He wasn't about to put another life on the line like that, not for something so selfish.

"Works for me." Nothing more was said, Boone simply shifting his rifle across his back as he set off towards his house by the dino. Nearing the door however, he figured it prudent to actually talk to the guy. He was possibly going to ask a big favor after all, may as well play nice instead of his usually distant self. Besides, he couldn't deny the curiosity he felt towards the guy.

"So...where are you coming from?

[courier2lw]

West fully expected Deacon to blow him off with some casual line, some joke… not admitting West was right. There was a little sigh of relief and as much as West was angry with Deacon and frustrated and tired… he was glad. But he knew he couldn't do everything all at once. It was starting to weigh on him and Deacon could see it.

West shot Deacon a glance, one that said 'Maybe I already hate you' as Deacon mentioned the things he knew were real, the confession Deacon would make that might bring West to hate him. Deacon trailed off for a moment and that was long enough. Someone behind them, outside of the tent called West's name, pulling his attention. They wanted to know where to put the remainders of the defeated robot atrocities and West instructed them. Behind the building, out of sight from the poor fucking patients they shredded through. He would deal with them later. Keep a guard on them in case any powered back up.

West dried his hands and turned his half attention back to Deacon. He shouldn't have yelled at him, not in the middle of all of this. They didn't have the time to deal with fucking relationship issues right now. He saw Deacon's sunglasses in the man's hands and looked up. Deacon hated not wearing them. West didn't push on it too much, he understood the need to keep up walls. But he loved Deacon's eyes. He loved how much emotion poured through, how much emotion they made West feel…

Deacon handed them over and West took them, but he wasn't sure why. No one was going to steal them and it was a joke West didn't like or could humor at all right now. He felt like his brain was slowing down, like Deacon and all this surrounding the two of them was a distraction.

'If you ever need to find me…' The words echoed in West's mind. So that was it. Deacon was going to come and help and then fuck off again. Whatever little talk that West wanted, Deacon was going to humor him and then that was it. West took it as well then after a moment of thought he haphazardly slammed both precious items of Deacon's on the table next to him into a pan that held a few bloody bullets. He picked up the scalpel and other medical tools next to it.

"I don't have time for all of this." West said, more tired than angry. He was running on fumes. Maybe it was better if Deacon just… wasn't here. But he was. And they needed all the help they could get.

"Help guard those robots. I got another surgery…" West jerked his head towards the back where the previous few guys had gone around the back of the building. He started walking towards the closed off tent across the pavilion before he stopped, turning back towards Deacon.

"I'll find you after." West promised, though it seemed to come after some hesitation. And then even more, as if he might say something else. He didn't and turned, disappearing into the old tent.

[wasteland-muses]

The slam of the offered items against the table had the same effect as a wrecking ball, Deacon's walls crumbling down to leave a pained look of panic across his face. He swallowed hard, quick to school his expression into that of a grin as he saluted West's way, but his eyes...they couldn't shake the sadness that threatened to bring about tears with how heavy it weighed.

Deacon did as he was told, making idle chatter with the other guards both to pass the time, and to gather information on what had happened here. One never knew what knowledge might come in handy out in the wastes, and Deacon took to collecting all he could get his hands on. He couldn't say how much time had passed, an hours, maybe two, just knowing that he had smoked through damn near his entire pack of cigarettes by the time a faint beep caught his attention.

Robots were his thing, the agent well tuned to every subtle noise one could make thanks to his trauma line of work. Turning towards the sound, the scene became frantic in but the blink of an eye, Deacon shouting a warning to a child that had strayed too close to the bots as one shifted and creaked to life once more. He didn't have time to think, his brain only catching up to the situation after he lay in the dirt slowly being soaked by his blood. "Fuck-" Every breath was agony, his eyes cloudy with pain as he tried to take stock of himself though the haze. But with how everything hurt, it was near impossible to tell what sort of damage had been done.

The kid was crying, hands over their ears after the loud bang of a shot from one of the other guards to put the robot back down. "Hey kid, it's okay. Wasn't your fault, alright? It was going to do that whether you got close to it or not." It was his response to stuttered apologies sobbed from the young thing, Deacon's smile once again failing to reach his eyes as those tears from before finally welled up. "Go get West, alright? He can help." He wasn't about to say how though, telling the kid that West could fix him a lie that felt far too vile on his tongue to speak aloud. West was good, but that could only get him so far.

Deacon only hoped he was able to say his peace before succumbing to the heavy pull behind his eyes...

[wasteland-muses]

@courier2lw cont. from (X)

Deacon could only laugh despite not being believed, he did expect it after all, not to mention it was something he was used to at this point. It still stung a little though, when the truth wasn't believed, no matter how much he understood why that was. "You don't believe me do you? In my time of need? I'm crushed." A hand gripped at his chest above his heart, his expression carrying every bit of melodrama he was trying to convey...all except for his eyes, that was. They held a sparkle of playful mirth in the baby blue, the rest of Deacon's face soon following as his lips slipped into a smirk once he was done fooling around.

"Just for that, we're taking a detour to visit ol' Pavement Paint." He seemed to be feeling better now thanks to the stimpak, less like his head was splitting open- Or wait, it did sort of do that, didn't it? Ah well, it stopped hurting all the same.

Once West had finished up with his arm, Deacon stood with a stretch and a slight wobble as vertigo hit him. "So doc, can I call you doc? Do I get a lollipop for being such a good patient?" Batting his eyes, it was something that would usually be unseen thanks to the dark shades he wore. He was trying to ignore how exposed he felt without them, his only option being to hope he could scavenge a new pair in the near future.

[mudskip-muses]

been a while since i threw my fandom server at you guys so YEET

we have:

-mentally ill Gays of all kinds

-so many fandom channels (wow!)

-literally no rules beyond the basics who cares as long as your Nice

-its just a chat room for whatever Brainrot takes you over lmao feel free to pop in and out as much as you want idgaf that link is good Forever

[mudskip-memes]

send me "🐾" for an animal themed starter! (send "creature" if you can't see the emoji)

[mudskip-memes]

Send me “Where she stops...” for a starter using the whump wheel 

(credit X)

[mudskip-memes]

send me "round and round she goes..." for a starter using the sickfic wheel! (X)

(credit)

[mudskip-muses]

SEMI-HIATUS NOTICE

k so these last couple days have been busy to say the least, yesterday my paternal grandmother passed (still weird to think that i dont have any grandmothers anymore) making 3 family deaths total this year alone. today my grandfather is having surgery to replace his pacemaker (so far this have gone well, hes out of surgery and such and gets to head home in a bit) and i will be staying with him for two weeks to make sure he gets on alright and to drive him places if need be since he will be unable to for said two weeks. depending on how emotional/mentally drained i am will decide how much gets done here (not that im high activity anyways lol) but yeah. im not dead, just busy and Tired lol

[mudskip-muses]

i made a little meme blog @mudskip-memes uwu