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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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Stronger than death itself 7a/?
(Anonymous) 2012-05-14 09:56 am (UTC)(link)Courage is being scared to death... and saddling up anyway. ~John Wayne
After having locked herself up in her tiny cabin for four days, the sheer raw physical force of hunger made Amanda finally peel herself out of her cocoon of self-pity, grief, fear and pain. But even as she opened the door and blinked against the light that was harsh in her eyes after the long time she had spent in darkness, she realised she was still wearing her bloodied, dirty clothes, and not only did she look dreadful, she smelled dreadful, too.
So she went back inside, picked up spare clothing and after a serious wash and a change of clothes, felt restored enough to face the world again. She made her way through the ship hesitatingly, and had to admit after a few false turns that she had managed to get herself lost. Yet as she stood there and debated which door to take next, one of them opened and through it came a couple, holding the door open for her. Relieved and with a grateful nod, Amanda stepped through the doorway and entered the marketplace again to head for the galley.
As she clutched a cup of coffee and waited for her food, she began to think about what she would do now, and how she would go about it. There wasn’t much for her to do. Stay here, perhaps? She couldn’t; she had to make a living and doubted that she could find work other than barmaid in the obnoxious bar she had heard about. Barmaid, if she was lucky.
The fact was, she had never been anything other than a scavenger; she had grown up travelling with her parent’s caravan and had never known any other craft than that. She still had the brahmin, she had the knowledge and she had the supplies, anti-radiation meds, stimpacks and other essentials, but what she lacked were fighting skills. She gave in to no illusion that, alone, she would survive no longer than a few days at the most.
For as protected as she had been, her parents had never allowed her the use of a gun and had kept her out of all fights as much as it had been possible. Now that she was without their protection, she was without any chance of fending for herself at all.
Her plate arrived and after a thankful nod, Amanda dug into her food with single minded determination. After the meal she felt even more restored, and she realised that if she wanted to get on the road again, she needed a caravan guard or two; she had the funds to pay for some time in advance, her father hadn’t managed to drink the lot away. For a reason she hadn’t quite understood, her parents hadn’t wanted to stay long in Rivet City. She suspected it might have to do with the mercs, or maybe even with the fact that Harkness had visibly shown his discontent about the bruise on her cheek. People had commented on her father’s treatment of her before, and Amanda could imagine that Harkness wouldn’t have kept his mouth shut forever. And for as little as she knew about him, Amanda had no doubt that he was a man not to be easily crossed.
In a way, it made her feel a tiny bit better to know that for whatever reason, he was feeling protective towards her.
That didn’t solve her problem about the guards however. Yet at precisely that moment she spotted a familiar face at the stall for miscellaneous goods where a few packs of cigarettes had just changed ownership. Emptying her cup, she stood up with a decisive move and reminded herself that she had to get a grip on her life; because there was no one left to do so but her.
x-x-x-x-x-x
Stronger than death itself 7b/?
(Anonymous) 2012-05-14 09:58 am (UTC)(link)“I found us a hire, buddy.”
“Some hire, by the look of you.”
“I didn’t make a binding commitment yet. Said I had to talk to you first.”
That made Frank cross his arms, for usually, the two of them were of one mind about almost everything. “So,” he said after a moment. “What kind of bullshit mission is it?”
“Caravan guard”, Steve replied without looking at him while he busied himself with lighting a smoke.
Frank lifted his eyebrows. “Yeah?”
“Scavenger”, Steve added, rolling the smoke between thumb and forefinger.
“Call me thick, but I’m still not with you.”
With a heavy sigh, Steve leaned back in his chair and looked at his friend. “It’s the girl, man.”
Frank blinked twice. “What?”
“You heard me.”
With a heartfelt oath muttered softly under his breath, Frank lit himself a smoke as well. They then exchanged a long look until Steve finally shrugged.
“Not much else in the way of a hire available. All the caravans due are regulars and have their guards.”
“I know.”
“Not likely anything coming by anytime soon.”
“I know.”
“And we’re running out of caps.”
“I know!” Frank clamped his smoke between his lips and crossed his arms. “I fucking know, right?”
They smoked in silence for a while.
“I agreed to meet here in the Rudder tonight”, Steve finally said.
Frank nodded.
“Look, I’m just as happy about this fuck-up as you are.”
Snorting half-heartedly, Frank shook his head. “I know, buddy. I just wondered what the fuck we’re getting ourselves into if we take that hire.”
“Well it can’t be worse than all things going to hell in a hand basket”, Steve replied with a brightness that was as false and unhappy as his smile.
x-x-x-x-x-x
Shortly after the market had closed down, Amanda went to the Rudder, more than a little nervous and still unsure if this was a good idea. There simply were no other mercs available and she needed at least two men with her, due to being unable to contribute to any fighting herself. With a somewhat heavy stomach and a strangely fluttering heart, she looked around until she spotted them at a table in a corner under the stairs, playing cards with their smokes clamped between their respective lips. She watched them for a while and wondered what made her so nervous. They had been nothing but friendly to her.
Maybe that was the problem. Amanda suddenly felt as if all her good intentions of getting on her feet and taking her life into her own hands were crumbling away, and what she was really doing was simply latching on to two strong, protective men who would continue to keep her safe as her parents had done before.
But I need them, she thought to herself. Without a guard, I won’t survive.
And that was really all there was to say about this. So she shrugged, swallowed her anxiety, or tried to at least, and went to the bar to buy three beers with which she slowly approached their table.
The one who must’ve been Frank was sitting with his back to her, but Steve sat opposite of him and saw her coming. He gave his friend a nod and as Amanda came to halt at their table, both men looked up with carefully neutral faces. Amanda realised that she had never had to negotiate with a mercenary before and her nervousness returned in full force, though she managed to keep her voice steady.
“Care for another beer?”
“Sure. That’s my buddy Frank; by the way”, Steve replied and pulled an empty chair over from the adjacent unoccupied table. “Have a seat.”
“Thanks.”
The mercenaries stowed their cards away before Steve leaned back in his chair and Frank folded his arms onto the table. Both men mustered her with intense but not unfriendly gazes.
Stronger than death itself 7c/?
(Anonymous) 2012-05-14 10:00 am (UTC)(link)Amanda nodded. “It’s just me and the brahmin otherwise. I need a caravan guard.”
“Makes sense.” Without looking at her, Frank snubbed out his cigarette butt in the ash tray. “Any particulars?”
This time it took Amanda a little more time to answer; trying to keep her lack of skills a secret would be futile as soon as they were on the road, and she opted instead for honesty. “I’ve never been allowed use of a gun in my life so far.”
Both men looked up at her sharply and blinked a few times.
“Jesus”, Steve finally blurted out. “You don’t need a guard, you need a babysitter.”
Amanda felt a hot blush creep onto her cheeks. “Look, it’s not my fault my parents didn’t teach me to fight and didn’t allow anyone else to do so. My brother James tried to amend that, but it’s damn hard to teach someone to shoot when you’ve got to be stealthy about it. I know a fair bit about close quarters combat, but...”
“It’s unlikely we’d get into any kind of bar brawl out there in the fucking Wasteland”, Frank fell in, his voice bar of emotion.
“I know!” Amanda forced her jaws to relax. “That’s what my brother tried to tell them too, but they knew better apparently.” She angrily wiped her eyes. “Good strategy for keeping me safe, leaving me completely defenceless.”
“Look, kid. I meant no offence. I was surprised, to put it mildly.” Steve cleared his throat and took another drag of his smoke. “Now I know you oughta be saying only good things about the dead, but that was...”
“I know. Rather stupid.”
None of them said anything for a moment.
“I can see why you’d need two guards”, Frank finally said after lighting up another cigarette. He offered Amanda the pack and she was just about to decline before she shrugged and took one. Frank lit it up for her and, after a cautious drag and a suppressed cough, Amanda stared at the cigarette and leaned back in her chair, contenting herself with just puffing the smoke instead of trying to inhale it. “You might as well say it. Steve was right: I do need a babysitter.” She made no attempt at keeping her frustration from her voice.
“You know kid”, Steve said after exhaling a slow cloud. “If you don’t like something, change it. Get yourself a gun and we’ll see if we can’t teach you to use it properly.”
Amanda looked up with a frown. “You’d do that?”
“Why not? It’d be in everyone’s best interest.”
“Does that mean you’ll take the hire?”, she asked with a tiny smile.
Frank and Steve exchanged a short look of puzzlement before the latter grinned. “Seems like it.”
“I’m not completely useless, I’ll have you know”, Amanda said after tapping off her ashes. “Apart from preparing food and mending clothes, I’m a pretty apt scavenger, good at tinkering and salvaging useable parts from derelict machinery and the like. I’m good at picking locks and fairly decent at hacking into security terminals.”
“Well that’s something”, Frank said and lifted his bottle. “You can’t be good at everything.”
Both Steve and Amanda lifted their bottle in return and the clinked them together to seal the agreement.