I decided to ditch the video I wasn’t feeling it, Anyways, be trying to recreate the wpn Ashoken uses for her MEET THE OC sheet.
WIP Ashoken & Six
Ashoken for the MEET THE OC sheet! I’m actually working on 3 of these about the same time, but trying to space out the work a little more while I clean up my to do list! Then I still have at least 2 more and then 3 Intros! Ashoken belongs to @helloaschefire !!
@thefrostyshepard ‘s Fallout OC meeting my OC Duncan and probably quickly discovering they are both bibliophiles. Don’t worry! There is a story in the works for AU crossover! Thank you for lending me the lovely and talented Rosalind! I hope to add her to my City Line up once KissWeek is complete!
Libraries were sacred spaces, as far as
Rosalind was concerned. How many hours had she lost wandering the
stacks, hugging books to her chest like long-lost friends, nearly
crying when they had to be returned. Seeing her beloved Boston
Public Library reduced to a husk of its former glory was yet another
painful reminder of all Rosalind lost when the bombs fell and she was
frozen in time against her will.
With the Super-mutants dead and the
robots acting like she was part of the furniture, Rosalind decided to
see how many books she could spirit back to Sanctuary. Danse, at
first reluctant to linger in the remains of the nest, warmed to the
plan when he saw just how many salvageable titles she found. Though
their covers were charred and their pages singed, she soon had a tidy
pile of about a dozen books.
A crack, then a soft thud, caught
Rosalind’s ear. As her hand reached for her gun, Danse thundered
into the rubble-strewn room, leveling his rifle at a man standing by
a broken table, his own collection of books teetering beside him.
Rosalind moved around Danse, raising one hand in the classic “hold
fire” gesture as she lowered her pistol. Whoever this man was, he
was no raider – he was far too clean for that – and he was
certainly not a mutant.
“We thought we cleared this place –
who are you – where did you come from?”
The man raised his hands, looking as
non-threatening as he could. His eyes shifted from the lady in front
of him, to the armored glowering man who looked to be the major
threat, to a flicker in the shadowed doorway, then back to Rosalind.
“And you cleared it quite well. I
met no resistance when I walked through the front door. As for who I
am, perhaps you could tell me who you and your.. companion.. are
first?”
Rosalind blinked at the man. It was
rare to hear proper, even cultured, vocabulary in the Wasteland.
Usually strangers bellowed threats and unseemly names at her. This
man seemed different – and in a good way. At least so far.
“Well, I’m Rosalind. Behind me is
Danse.” Danse barely nodded, his eyes trained on the stranger, as
Rosalind continued speaking. “I see you were looking for books
too?” gesturing to her own pile.
With a hint of a smile, the man walked
towards Rosalind. “Ah, a fellow bibliophile. A rather uncommon
interest in today’s world.” He took her free hand, brushing a kiss
to her scraped knuckles before releasing it. “I am Duncan. It is
a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“Nice to meet you, Duncan.” She
looked around the ruined stacks. “So much history – lost.”
Duncan nodded. “Indeed. I had hoped
more would be intact, but it seems those hopes were in vain.” He
gathered his stack of books in his arms, moving towards the shadowed
doorway. “These will do for now. When I travel, I will seek out
more treasures. Perhaps our paths will cross again, and we can
compare what each of us has found?”
“Sure – I’m always after any book I
can find, so I’m sure I’ll be back.” Rosalind gazed up at the
ceiling with a wistful sigh. “This place was so beautiful.”
“I am sure it was.” Duncan bowed –
a bit awkwardly with all his books. “Until we meet again,
Rosalind.” He turned, and disappeared into the shadows. Danse
only relaxed when Duncan was well and truly gone.
“Strange that he just appeared in
here. The Protectrons and turrets should not have acknowledged him
as a proper employee. Shall I have the Brotherhood investigate this
Duncan?” Rosalind shook her head.
“No. I’m not even sure we’ll see him
again.” She thrust her stack of books at Danse, before gathering
up a few that were barely holding together. “Come on, if we hurry
we can be back in Sanctuary by sunset.”
After stowing the books, Danse and
Rosalind left the library, weapons out – just in case any
stragglers lingered. And behind them, a shadow peeled out of the
corner, tracking the pair all the way to Sanctuary, before racing in
the direction Duncan traveled.
(I also posted this on AO3 – thank you for letting me write your Duncan (and thank Ash too! 🙂 )
I have some of the most amazing friends! Thank you @thefrostyshepard and @helloaschefire for being my partners in creative crime and giving me such lovely and amazing words and characters.
I had to reblog to share this Slice of Life/Meeting Story
@helloaschefire got to see it last night because I’m awful like that lol. Sometimes I really wish I was better at titles because I’d so title my favorite bestfit misfits all the time. One of my true fav pairings.
Except for the occasional clackity-clack of the buildings around us settling further into disrepair, the street was silent. The wind couldn’t find us in such close quarters so we were warmer than we had been since we left the Marina safe-house. Our goal was to ransack one of the many medical centers in the ruins of Boston for supplies to use, to convert into medicine for ourselves or sell as scrap. Every cap counted if we were to meet our goals of taking down the institute, of surviving.
I heard the flapping of wings before even Echo. I do not like to point out to Duncan that I can hear and smell just as well his dog. His camaraderie with the dog is something I need to understand better. Still, I heard them before Echo and Duncan. I gestured for them to get into the shadows. There are so many places to hide in the Commonwealth. It is a wonder the Institute can find anything let alone a runaway synth. But it does with ruthless efficiency. The folk above ground do not have any proof, but they are certainly correct. The Institute has eyes every. Above and on the ground. Three large black birds passed over our hiding place.
If they settled near us, I would shoot them as I have with every single bird we’ve come across except for the chickens. Duncan says the Institute would not waste its time making a rad chicken. I have to agree. They are ugly beasts. But tasty.
The blackbirds kept flying, their destination perpendicular to ours, or so it seemed. My head remained on a swivel. Up, down and all around.
LOVE! Wish I’d sent this!
KissWeek 2018 Ashoken & Valentina
These two could not be more anti-otp. Shipping these two would just be a series of hot toxic explosions lol. BUT KISS WEEK! I CAN DO WHAT I WANT! Thanks @helloaschefire for letting me borrow Ashoken for a smooch!
@charomiami asked me to write a little something using the one word prompt #47 Stars.
Here it is. Hopefully, it is easier to read than if I posted this as a reply to the ask. 🙂 But it isn’t. I’ll reformat later. Here are the words:
Panel 1: The moon and stars lit our way through the commonwealth wilderness. We came across a lone Minuteman on the trail of a girl taken by a group of raiders. He feared for her fate and asked for our help.
It was a bold move to trust strangers such as us. I could tell he thought the same but desperation made his decisions rash. Duncan and I shared a look. We were going to make camp, but I was not tired. Duncan looked grim, as he always did.
Panel 2. The Minuteman had a piece of clothing that belonged to the girl. Echo knew what to do.
It was bold of us, maybe, to help this man. We did not speak while on the hunt, but I felt I knew how he would react if he found out about me and Duncan.
Panel 3: Fear. Distrust. Anger. Violence. I did not want to expose Duncan to that, if we are to succeed in our goal, we need to show that when given a choice, not everything from the Institute is evil. Until then, we hunt beneath the silent stars.
Of course I LOVE it, this. Awesome work and use and you gave me lovely pics too…. ❤❤❤❤❤❤
Duncan told me to start a journal. When I asked him what that was, he said I should sit down at his terminal and record my thoughts and feelings on a holotape. I asked him why I needed to do this. He said so I won’t forget. I told him I don’t forget, and then he stared at me. I dislike that expression. Sometimes I want to punch it off his face. This time, I turned away in frustration. I know why he stared at me like that. I watch him watch me. He remembers me. I do not remember him.
CharoMiami 