WANDERIN’

[wastelandwanderin]

WASTELANDWANDERIN

Indie multimuse Fallout OC rp blog. Written by M. Carrd.

[wastelandwanderin]

trying to escape a domestically violent living situation. hiatus until i can get things under control and find stable living arrangements.

[wastelandwanderin]

FIRST DOSE OF TESTOSTERONE TAKEN LETS GOOOOO

[wastelandwanderin]

srry for the unplanned hiatus. things have been crazy+my uncle passed. hope to be back soon

[wastelandwanderin]

tentatively back. thank you all for the well wishes

[wastelandwanderin]

hi im thinking abt the fact that @aamusedly has coop call sugihara “sue” like the song a boy named sue….

[wastelandwanderin]

lil dooble of me and @aamusedly's thread :)

[goodbye--gone-blog]

if you ever wanna ship with me just come to my ask and be like “listen dick face we bout to fuck shit up with a ship ok.”

[aamusedly]

Help was largely a foreign concept to Cooper Howard nowadays. It was a good thing he'd just dropped his knife, or it would've been jammed into Sugihara's guts the second his hands met a leather coat.

But the Ghoul was a sharp tack no matter what sort of degrading episode he was suffering through. He knew those hands-- had trusted them fairly well for years now. He slumped limp in his seat, and bloodshot eyes slid over to catch sight of Sugihara going through his bag. A capitol offense for anyone else.

A weak hand curled around his inhaler as a puff of chemicals swelled into his collapsing lungs. It was as painful as it was a relief to catch his breath again. As Sugihara stepped back, Cooper leaned his head into his chair and let his fistful of inhaler drop into his lap.

A couple breaths. A last wheeze. An eye cracked open to fix down at the other merc. What did he even say?

"...Dreamed I was flyin' like a bird," Cooper finally settled on with a cracked, yellowed grin.

[wastelandwanderin]

Sugihara watched closely as the medicine made its way through Cooper's system. It was fast-acting--but there was always that thought in the back of his mind that it wouldn't work this time, or that he was too late. That he'd have to shoot his--his coworker in cold blood.

Or he'd get his head ripped off and his entrails feasted upon. Either or.

The wheezing stopped. Sugihara waited. Then, after Cooper spoke, he glared--but he couldn't find it in him to tell Cooper to shut the fuck up. This time, anyway.

His thoughts were in a much darker place.

He sat back on the ground and pinched the bridge of his nose, hand still trembling.

"Can I ask you something?" he said eventually.

[aamusedly]

@wastelandwanderin. From COOPER.

His lungs were burning from the inside out, incinerating with every gasp for breath. He could hold it and save himself, but the pressure in his chest was growing too much. He had to open his mouth-- he had to swallow that smoke and fire and blood-- so much blood--

Cooper awoke with a lurch, hacking and wheezing. He'd fallen asleep in his lawn chair, overlooking the rocky gulch he and Sugihara had been staking out in the rumor of a loaded raider caravan sneaking by. So far no dice, and it was dark enough to have necessitated camping out for the night.

He was wheezing for breath as he clambered to his feet in search of his saddle bag. Fits like this didn't happen often between doses. But it was just another annoyance.

His knife was in his hand. The Ghoul hadn't even noticed he'd drawn it in his sleep. It slipped out of his hand and clattered to the rocks as the next coughing fit had him doubling over.

[wastelandwanderin]

Over the years of working on and off with Cooper, Sugihara had become very familiar with the trials of being a ghoul. With the lengths Cooper would go to to get his hands on those precious, vital vials.

With what he stood to lose if he didn’t.

So he was startled, but not surprised when he woke to Cooper hacking up a fucking lung.

He fumbled for his revolver at first, but once sense returned and he realized what was happening, he abandoned it and went to Cooper’s side. Sugihara gripped him by the shoulders and hauled him back into the lawn chair before dropping to his knees by the saddle bag on the ground and rifling through it for a vial and the inhaler. He popped off the top. The vial went in. He pushed the inhaler into Cooper’s hands and fed the mouthpiece against his lips. Stepped back to give him room to breathe.

Fuck. Fucking… fuck. He realized his hands were shaking. He hated seeing this shit. It was disturbing, the idea that another human being could suffer so much and be forced to the brink so often.

[wastelandwanderin]

more sugihara energy posts

[wastelandwanderin]

this is saur Sugihara coded. to me

[o-rusted-heart]

He'd been zoning out. That was the human way to put it; more realistically, his processors had stalled on a series of equations that weren't computing. Random access memories had cropped up due to a hiccup in programming, a jostled memory from a rusted core.

He should run diagnostics. It was a sign that there was a bug in the system.

Or maybe he was just sad. Hard to tell. Nick cleared his throat, still holding the card as if his arm had just been built at that angle. "Her. And, uh..."

God, what a complicated question. "Yeah. Sorta. We went back pre-war. I... like to leave notes for her, sometimes."

Indicated by the small stack of letters, some disintegrated down to the mud, showing in little bursts of pink and gold. Valentines cards left over the span of decades... or longer.

[wastelandwanderin]

The expression on Nick's face was… complex. Sugihara's gaze went from it, to the grave, and back again. A friend? A lover? Probably a lover, judging by the cards. Whoever she was, Nick had obviously been attached.

Christ. Sugihara was so bad with feelings--even ones he knew intimately, like grief. He only ever got angry when he was grieving, and then he got angry at himself for being angry, and it sort of accumulated into a giant, knotted up clusterfuck in his chest that he had to go out and shoot something or scream himself hoarse to get rid of.

But Nick was a decent guy, and decent guys talked about stuff, didn't they? Sugihara owed him. So… he'd try to talk about it.

"…What was she like?" he hazarded.

[galaeus]

@wastelandwanderin / continued from [x]

"A yahoo?!" The words erupt in a yelp. ( Is that a swear up on the surface? ) Echo acts as if it is with the way she presses a hand over her heart, blue eyes wide as saucers. She stares over at her reluctant comrade with indignant pride.

"I am not a yahoo, thank you very much. And for your faulty information, I'm not fresh out of a Vault -- it's been five days and I've done just fine."

Which is longer than what anyone in her Vault thought she'd last. If she was rude like this one, she'd tell them to shove their predictions up their ass. But she isn't. She's polite -- even if that politeness is slowly eroding like the radiation eating at everything up on the surface.

"I appreciate that you wouldn't let me show up broke, but that isn't the point. I'm not going back." In defiance, the young woman stomps up to him and swivels on a heel, finger pointed. "And when I save your butt out here between now and that settlement? You'll be singing a different tune."

[wastelandwanderin]

Her expression is like--like he shot her dog, or something. Sugihara resists the urge to bite that accusing finger and scowls.

"You're fresher than a mutfruit off the bush," he snaps. "And you're not saving shit with that pea-shooter you're packing. What you're gonna do is get me and you killed.

"The best thing for you to do is pay someone to get you back to your tin can. Can't imagine why you left in the first place."

[wastelandwanderin]

@o-rusted-heart (continued from x)

He tried to wait. He really did.

The problem was that this area was fucking infested with feral ghouls, and while Nick was hardier than the average human being, Sugihara was loathe to let his new partner out of his sight for long--he was the first steady supply of caps Sugihara had ever had, after all.

So, after about five minutes had elapsed, he followed Nick into the cemetary. Found him standing in front of one grave in particular, staring down at something in his hand. Sugihara hesitated, then closed the gap, coming to stand beside Nick.

"Sorry," he grunted, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Just wondering where you fucked off to."

He looked at the worn name on the tombstone.

LANDS.

Don't ask, he told himself, or you'll make it weird.

"You knew 'em?" he asked, making it weird.

[wastelandwanderin]

i'm just going to come right out and say it - i hate being here just as much as you do, but we have to make this work. (SUGIHARA!)

“You’ve lost your marbles if you think I’m going risk my caps—or my ass—by bringing along some yahoo fresh out of a Vault,” Sugihara informs the newbie curtly.

He loves the Followers of the Apocalypse. He really does. He owes them big time. But assigning a fuckin’ sardine with no survival skills to go on a mission to tag deathclaws with trackers? Absolutely fucking asinine. He’s all for having faith in your fellow man, but there comes a point when you have to realize that someone’s just not cut out for the task at hand.

“First chance we get, I’m dropping you off at a settlement with a handful of caps to get you home. You shouldn’t be out here.”

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FOR THE FORCED PROXIMITY TROPE *  assorted dialogue for the moments and circumstances that force two characters to spend time together, adjust as necessary

who said i agreed to any of this?

i said i would help you. i didn't say i would be nice to you while i'm helping you.

you scratch my back and i'll scratch yours.

oh no. don't tell me it's locked.

i was hired to protect you. that's my job.

i'm actually starting to tolerate you, believe it or not.

i don't want to be stuck here with you.

i'll work with anyone but you.

i'm not letting you sleep on the floor.

they're forcing me to work with you and i don't like it.

how long do you think we'll be stuck here?

is that the only tent we have?

i think we're snowed in here. we'd better find a way to stay warm.

it's going to take a few days for them to reach us.

you sleep in that room, and i'll take this one.

you can't get rid of me that easily.

i'm just going to come right out and say it - i hate being here just as much as you do, but we have to make this work.

don't get any ideas.

i'm going to see if they'll switch my room.

until you came along, i had this under control.

if we're going to survive this, we'd better work together.

why did they sit me next to you?

i'd like to be as far away from you as possible.

out of all the people in the world, i had to get stuck with you.

guess you're just gonna have to get over it.

i thought you were worse than this.

i'm not going anywhere, and neither are you.

you're not exactly my favorite person to be around.

well, get used to it. i'm not leaving.

i told them i don't need a bodyguard.

i never wanted to spend this much time with you.

all this time spent together has really opened my eyes.

you're not as bad as i thought you were.

we might as well try to get along.

i guess i should learn a little bit about you.

i think that means we're the only ones left.

there's no way i'm sharing a room with you.

you again? i've seen enough of you already.

i thought [name] was coming. why are you here?

they're counting on us to save them.

since we'll be here for a while... might as well make the best out of it.

i think we can set aside our differences for two minutes and work this out.

honestly, i think i was wrong about you at first.

there's absolutely no way i'm working with you.

fine, but you're sleeping on the floor. i'll take the bed.

as your bodyguard, i'm supposed to stay with you at all times.

i think we're snowed in for a while.

you could always sleep on this side of the bed.

we have to at least pretend we like each other.

the whole point in having a bodyguard is for me to keep you safe.

i don't like asking for your help, but here i am, asking.

you and i are the only ones who can deal with this.

you don't have a say in the matter.

looks like we're stuck here.

just sleep in the bed with me. i'll even make a pillow wall between us.

i'm not sharing a tent with you.

i need you to stay out of my way.

could you at least "guard" me from over there? why do you have to stand so close?

[swirlingyouintomypoems]

Will I always be alone in this house? Reading books that are too hard for me in the long fatherless hours?

let your dad die energy drink - daniel lavery and cecilia corrigan/bob’s burgers, 2011/family line - conan gray/@parentless-suggestions/promises of gold - jose olivarez/unknown/dna - lia marie johnson/i am angry because of my father - halsey/part of me never left that house - mada hayyas/unknown/father - demi lovato/franz kafta/unknown/primer - aaron smith/family line - conan gray/untitled - frank wright

***sorry for all of the unknowns on this one. I really do try to find the sources for everything but I kept coming up empty w these. If you know the sources pls comment/send me an ask or dm and lmk!!