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falloutkinkmeme_backup) wrote2018-10-20 09:59 pm
falloutkinkmeme_backup) wrote2018-10-20 09:59 pm
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Fallout Kink Meme Part IV: Closed to prompts, open for fills.
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Crossroads (9a/9)
(Anonymous) 2015-01-07 06:30 pm (UTC)(link)She clawed at the blankets on her, falling from the bed to the floor. She pried at the bandages stuck to her skin, ignoring the pain as they tore away. She grabbed at the stranger’s clothes she wore, a long, loose shirt, her sturdy hides gone. There were other beds, all empty, and she forced herself to her feet, slamming into the door at the end of the long room. It refused to move, and she spun, panicking, spotting a window behind her. She couldn’t run, legs stiff and sore, but threw it open and tumbled out.
Buildings outside, and daylight—a town. People were walking in the street, and one started, pointing at her. There was a voice from the room with the beds, rising from curiosity to alarm. Fear gave her strength, lurching away from them. Run. She had to run, get away to safety they had wanted to keep her once they used her, fuck her as she screamed and fought but was weak, too weak, the Red men, the Red blood on the road, bodies hacked apart—
A man stepped into her path as she ran, hands held up, saying something calm, low. She wheeled and charged for a gap between the buildings, more people in her way. They scattered, and she came up short. A wall. There was a wall around the town, and she followed along it, legs starting to tremble. They gave out under her, and she crawled instead. Up or they would drag her there, choking on the neck of her own hood.
She fell in the grass and weeds along the wall. Maybe she would die, after all. It was cool where she lay, in the shadow of the wall, among the green things. She would die there, and her shame with it.
And Alam…?
She curled up on herself, waiting. This time, darkness didn’t come. Instead, footsteps crunched up on the path, turning soft on the grass. She wiped at her face with the ridiculous shirt, looking at the man crouched out of reach. “Hello,” he said slowly, clearly. She stared at him, dead. “We thought you wouldn’t wake up for a while. You should go back to bed.”
Adal forced herself to speak, tongue thick and slow. “Don’t speak townie.”
He chuckled. “But I understand you, so you can probably hear me just fine.” He tipped his head, trying to catch her eye. “What’s your name?”
“Just kill me, Legion man.”
“Legion…” Something dark passed over his face. “Miss, you’re in New Canaan. I swear on God’s name you’re safe here, even from them.” He held out a hand. “My name is Isaac. Please, let me help you up.”
“Kill me.”
“No! Miss—” There was distress in his voice. “You’re sick, please…”
“Then let me die!” she screamed, voice breaking.
“I…” He sat back, rubbing his face. “What… what happened to you, miss?”
They were marching away, across the blood and bodies. “They took my boys.”
“Where? Who?” The voice was from somewhere far off, unfamiliar, maybe one of the Red men…
“Took them.” She ground her teeth until they creaked, grinding her fingers into her eyes. “Took them, took—”
She flinched away from the hand on her arm, patting awkwardly at her as she cried. He was reciting something, measured tones that made her think of a walking jody, but too varied, too low. When her throat grew too raw, and she was empty, she managed to listen. “…in his mercy may he give us a safe lodging, and holy rest and peace at the last.” Rest. Peace. Let her die…
“Are you… done?” he asked, back to awkward, losing that strange formal tone.
She didn’t respond, cried hollow. Her body was heavy and light at the same time, a doll with no hands to move it. She couldn’t fight as he helped her stand, slowly, taking her weight on an arm as he walked her back to the bed.
Crossroads (9b/9) Complete
(Anonymous) 2015-01-07 06:31 pm (UTC)(link)The children ran scared of her, and she suspected their elders had told them to stay away. Once, on her walk, she spotted them playing, boys and girls alike. She had to stop, to rest against a building, overcome. She could only see her boys, her sons, dead, gone…
Isaac found her there. He tried to take her hand, hold her as she cried. She attacked him, bloodying his face, laughing as she felt the bones of his arm break, the Red men would lose this time…
They kept her locked in a room until they drew a grudging apology, a promise to behave. They grew tense when she demanded a gun, to be let outside, to hunt. She grew angry when they said no. They said her spirit would be saved if she submitted to their god, bowed to their ways. She tore their holy books from their hands and threw them away when they told her the Walkers’ souls would not find peace unless she took their rites. They grew harsher, confining her, but she would not be held. Adal snuck out through the window, taught herself to pick the lock on her door. She wandered the silent town at night, tried to find ways over the walls. Found the traders from the west, New California, who let her into their borrowed lodgings, unaware of her pariah status. They were foreign, strange, and she lost herself in it, in the liquor they snuck past the townies.
The Canaanites’ patience finally broke when they found her with them one night, drunk and naked and wrapped around one of their men. She spat on them, spat on the doors to their town from the back of the trader’s brahmin cart.
She was Walker. No walls would hold her. No townies would give her orders.
She looked down at her civilized clothes, her booted feet, felt the sun on her unhooded head. Riding a cart instead of using her legs. Walker. She was…
Adal paid her keep to the caravan’s elder by hunting, using spears and knives, no longer worthy of a gun. To the one who traded her chems behind their backs, she paid in favors. She was dead to it as he used her, made herself be, was strong enough not to let it affect her. She walked with them until they reached the civilized lands to the west, sprawling towns and land used for nothing but plants.The caravaners were too slow and slovenly to keep dragging her feet alongside them, and she was tired of the ugly looks they gave her and the man who claimed her.
Their elder gave her caps to take packages instead, walking alone through this new world. Courier, people starting calling her. She left the caravan behind entire, learning the roads through New California, and making her own when they didn’t serve. She took to it, took strange jobs and packages and met strange people, never staying, never settling. There was peace in the solitude, alone with her thoughts and whatever chems she could buy to numb them. Alone on the roads, she was safe.
Alone on the roads, no one heard Adal weep, imagining the Walker keeping time.
Re: Crossroads (9b/9) Complete
(Anonymous) 2015-01-11 10:47 pm (UTC)(link)Indulge yourself in these allllllll you want, A!A. I will always read the hell out of an Adal story. All the background work you've done on this is just astonishing and I love hearing more of her life, even the terrible moments like these.
Re: Crossroads (9b/9) Complete
(Anonymous) 2015-01-18 09:54 am (UTC)(link)Re: Crossroads (9b/9) Complete
(Anonymous) 2015-01-28 09:17 am (UTC)(link)Re: Crossroads (9b/9) Complete
(Anonymous) 2015-01-29 06:32 am (UTC)(link)