![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
falloutkinkmeme_backupWelcome to the Fallout Kink Meme, Part IV! Please assume the position.
- Fallout Kink Meme posting guidelines
- Read something? Love something? No matter how old the story is, please let our amazing authors and artists know that you enjoyed their work with a nice comment, and share the love by recommending your favorite fills!
Keep Your Composure 5/?
Date: 2011-10-25 11:14 pm (UTC)She wants to forget who she was before she was Courier.
“Don’t-“ she coughs, wheezing to catch her breath. “Don’t call me that.” She falters underneath his gaze. “You don’t have the right,” she finishes quietly.
“The right to what? To tell you to get help? To save your own life?”
“Big words from a man with a god-“ she coughs again, blood spattering her palm. “God damned death wish.” He crosses his arms, the tense set of his shoulders all that is need to let her know she hit a sore spot. She winces. “There isn’t anything anyone can do. I guess you can say this is a remnant of my own death wish.” She wipes the blood on her jeans, not caring anymore if he sees it.
“Fine,” he says as she lies down to go to bed. “I’m not going to let this go,” he warns. She nods, and he sets up watch for the night, his back to her. She reaches in her pocket for a weathered slip of paper. She isn’t sure how it’s lasted this long without disintegrating between her nervous fingers. She curls up to mouth the single word written on the paper over and over again before falling asleep.
Boone doesn’t ask her why she says that word anymore. At first, he thought she was Legion. Thought she was saying the name of their ferryman to haunt him. But she says it the way he says Carla’s name when he wakes up from the nightmares that plague him, and so he leaves it be.
Re: Keep Your Composure 5/?
Date: 2011-10-26 12:24 am (UTC)Re: Keep Your Composure 5/?
Date: 2011-10-26 01:21 am (UTC)Keep Your Composure 6/?
Date: 2011-10-26 10:14 pm (UTC)Courier unwillingly walks into the Old Mormon Fort, Boone at her heels. The piece of paper is clenched in her hand like a talisman, and she gives Boone longing side long glances. She doesn’t want him to watch over her, and he is fine with that. He doesn’t know who she longs for, but it isn’t him, and that is fine.
Julie Farkas is busy tending to sick residents of Freeside, so Courier waits. She paces around camp nervously, avoiding eye contact with anyone who tries to look at her.
Julie sticks her head into Arcade’s tent, arms full of an ill, screaming child.
“Arcade,” she says desperately. He looks up from his book. “I need you to look at the Courier.” He makes a face, but dutifully stands up.
“All right. Lead the way,” he answers. She points toward the Courier, and Arcade’s heart locks in his throat.
Dirty blonde hair hangs over her eyes, but he can still make out the blue color behind them. Her face is full of hard angles better suited for a man, and if he squints he can almost see who she reminds him of. He cautiously approaches her, as if afraid she’ll disappear any minute. When she sees him, she forces a weary smile.
“Hello. Are you the doctor I need to see?” she asks, and the illusion is broken.
“Yes. I’m Arcade. I’m afraid I don’t have a good bedside manner,” he says. She doesn’t react at his name, and it’s enough to make him wonder if she even knows the man he is thinking of. “What’s your name?” She flinches, and it’s so slight he isn’t sure if she even flinched at all.
“Courier,” she says after a moment’s deliberation. “Just Courier.” He nods.
“All right, ‘Just Courier’, if you’ll follow me to my tent, I’ll take a look at you.” She nods and follows him. The man n the red beret shoots her a questioning look, and she smiles weakly at him.
“I’ll be fine,” she tells him. “You don’t have to come in and hold my hand.” He nods slowly, and Arcade gets the vibe that the man would have done that very thing, had she asked him to. He motion for her to seat in his recently vacated chair, and she does.
“So, what’s the problem?” he asks. She hesitates.
“Radiation poisoning,” she says finally. He nods, moving to get his doctor’s bag.
“All right. Nothing a little Rad-X can’t fix, depending on how long you’ve been afflicted. When did you-“
“I’m dying,” she says firmly. He looks at her incredulously, and she smiles weakly. “Took a massive dose of radiation close to my twentieth birthday. Knocked me out for two weeks. When I woke, I drank Rad-X like it was water. Hell, I practically bathed in the stuff. But-“
“But you didn’t do all of that soon enough. Damage was already done,” Arcade finishes. She nods. “So I take it you’re here because your friend insisted?” She nods again. Arcade sighs, and pulls up a chair to sit next to her. “You and I both know there isn’t anything I can do.”
“Yes,” she says, and he can see who she reminds him of again. A smiling man with dark circles underneath his eyes that picks him up and swings him around while his parents look on indulgently. A man who grew old before his time, like the girl sitting in front of him.
Re: Keep Your Composure 6/?
Date: 2011-10-27 08:25 am (UTC)Re: Keep Your Composure 6/?
Date: 2011-10-28 12:38 am (UTC)courier no
don't die
I love this fiiiiiiicc
Keep Your Composure 7/?
Date: 2011-10-28 03:39 am (UTC)Israel fidgets uncomfortably. He never fidgets. But James dragged him to Camp Forlorn Hope, after following the news of their attack on Nelson, the charge led by the Courier. James helps Doctor Richards with the new influx of patients, much to the good doctor’s gratitude.
He can’t relax. He is in enemy territory. He feels that they know him on sight, and he will have to fight them for his life. But the soldiers pass him by, and they’re more chipper after the successful battle.
They don’t see him, and he doesn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.
James is asking around about the girl. He’s getting definite details on her appearance that fuel his hope. Dirty blonde hair. Blue eyes. Dark circles underneath her eyes. She travels with an NCR sniper, a cyberdog, a Mexican ghoul, a drunkard, a tinkerer, a super mutant, an eyebot (Israel raises his eyebrow at that one), and a doctor. James comes back more blissful than Israel has ever seen him, and he doesn’t have the heart to voice his doubts.
“Maybe that doctor will be my new son-in-law,” he jokes, and Israel smiles weakly in reply. James insists on eating dinner with the troops, and one of them comes up to him. She’s First Recon, the beret lopsidedly placed on her head.
“Hey,” she greets. James smiles brightly, his ruined face looking a little worse for wear despite the smile.
“Hello. What can I do for you?” he asks.
“I hear you’re looking for the Courier. How come?” she asks, her voice gentle and undemanding. James hesitates, and Israel watches the woman closely, ready to pounce.
“I-I think I might know her,” he decides to say. She nods, and says,
“She’s heading back to the Strip. You might be able to catch her,” she says. “I’d worry about what you want her for, but you’ve done a hell of a thing helping Richards.” She grins, and adds, “Plus, I’d be worried about her if she couldn’t defend herself with that giant group she’s got.” James smiles, and sets his utensils down.
“Thank you. We’ll leave as soon as possible. Israel?” he asks, and he leaves his concern for the other man’s wellbeing unsaid. Israel nods, swallowing a mouthful of Instamash.
“Let’s go,” he says, trying to ignore the creaking in his old bones.
Re: Keep Your Composure 7/?
Date: 2011-10-28 04:01 am (UTC)This series is so, so great.
Re: Keep Your Composure 7/?
Date: 2011-10-28 04:16 pm (UTC)The anticipation
it is killing me
Re: Keep Your Composure 7/?
Date: 2011-10-29 02:03 am (UTC)Keep Your Composure 8/?
Date: 2011-11-05 03:47 pm (UTC)Israel aims his plasma defender at one hovering dangerously close to James, and it turns into a pile of green goo. James punches one in front of him, and it’s wing flutters to the ground. He grins at Israel, and Israel shakes his head. Personally, he isn’t one for unarmed fighting. He doesn’t like to get too close to his enemy, but it brings something primal out in James that he can’t release anywhere else, and so Israel watches his back.
James has always been a sight to behold, even now that his skin is cracked and battered like an old map. He grabs an attacking cazador’s stinger, breaking it off the insect before stabbing the insect with it. He throws the cazador to the ground, and laughs. Israel begins to laugh with him, but his voice is cut off as a sharp stab of pain blossoms through his shoulder.
The cazador buzzes around his head, waiting for him to fall. His vision blurs, and he shakes his head furiously to clear it. His plasma defender falls limply from his hands, and he stumbles into James. James’ arms wrap around him to keep him steady before shooting the cazador down.
Israel can’t make very much sense of anything. The Mojave runs together in one mediocre brown blur. James leads him away from the buzzing hoards that begin to gather, but Israel can’t focus on any of that.
All he sees is the specter of a blonde little boy smiling up at him. He reaches for him, but James pulls him in the opposite direction.
“Wait,” he cries, struggling to get away. “James, he’s there. Can’t you see him?” James doesn’t answer, grimly pulling him away from his hallucination. He struggles harder, and James grunts with the effort of holding him back.
Israel calls the boy’s name, voice on the edge of breaking. The boy simply smiles, and fades from his vision. With a howl, Israel fades from consciousness, a limp weight in James’ arms.
Re: Keep Your Composure 8/?
Date: 2011-11-05 11:36 pm (UTC)Re: Keep Your Composure 8/?
Date: 2011-11-06 10:58 pm (UTC)Re: Keep Your Composure 8/?
Date: 2011-11-07 12:10 am (UTC)Awesome update, nonnie!
Keep Your Composure 9/?
Date: 2011-11-26 06:45 pm (UTC)Arcade looks up from the campfire he has been half-heartedly stroking.
“Arcade,” he hears the wind cry. Courier looks at him questioningly. “Arcade.”
“You ok?” she mouths.
“Did you hear that?” he mouths back. She shakes her head no, and he tries to shake the phantom voice from his head.
“Arcade,” it calls, dredging up memories long past. “Arcade.”
“Not listening,” he murmurs, turning back to stoke the fire. Courier coughs, and tries to stifle it. Boone is at her side instantly, silently handing her the canteen of water. She smiles weakly, taking a dutiful sip even though she doesn’t want it. Boone gently rubs her back, and she tries not to stiffen too much.
“So, the plan is to stop at the Lucky 38 for supplies, and then head to Jacobstown?” Arcade asks as a means to break the uncomfortable silence. She nods, absently patting Rex’s brain case. He wines pitifully, eyes scrunched closed.
“Yeah,” she says hoarsely. “I heard there is a doctor up there who specializes in cyberdogs.” Arcade fights away the phantom image of a stern man staring at him disapprovingly from behind his glasses. Surely there had to be more than one doctor who specializes in cyber dogs, right? He looks up from the fire to see Courier fondling that piece of paper. Before he can comment on it, Cass does.
“What the hell is that piece of paper you’re always fingering?” she demands. “A love letter or something?” The Courier holds the paper to her chest defensively.
“None of your business,” she says, and Cass pouts almost petulantly.
“Come on,” she almost wines. “Not knowing has been killing me. I’ll even share some of my whiskey.” The Courier’s face breaks into the first smile Arcade has seen in a while.
“Nope,” she says. Cass groans, and Veronica decides to help her out.
“Ladies don’t kiss and tell, Cass,” she pipes up helpfully. She winks at Courier, and Courier looks almost grateful. Cass grumbles about ‘shut-ins who won’t share any juicy details when their friends are going through a dry spell’, and rolls over to go to sleep.
Arcade watches her look at the slip of paper, and mouth softly to herself. It’s almost a compulsion for her, a ritual. Boone alternates between watching for enemies, and watching her with hooded eyes. Raul comes back from hunting, fresh Gecko meat clenched in his hand. He puts a finger up to his lips to tell Arcade to be quiet, and sneaks up behind the Courier to startle her.
“It’s the cucuy! Rawr!” he says teasingly, and she startles before laughing. She drops the piece of paper, and reaches over to pick it up.
Her expression morphs into one of pure panic when Raul picks it up first.
He looks down at it, and back at her, like he can’t believe what he is seeing. She looks up at him pleadingly, and he looks around at the group. Aracde struggles to hear the ghoul speak, and is frustrated when he can’t understand him.
“¿Sabes Caronte?” She nods, and he sighs deeply. “Oh, hija.”
“Por favor,” she says. “No se lo digas.” He nods, and sits down. All at once, the both of them look years wearier.
Re: Keep Your Composure 9/?
Date: 2011-11-26 07:29 pm (UTC)God, I love the interplay through the whole group. And the way you write your Courier -- my god, she breathes off the screen, and she's so real I can even hear the rattle to that breathing. And that beginning bit with Arcade was just... hng please never stop writing. This whole story is just so atmospherically melancholy and I love it.
Keep Your Composure 10/?
Date: 2011-11-27 12:21 am (UTC)Israel’s fever has finally gone down. James knows that they’re safe in the building he sought refuge for them in, a fisherman’s shack at the edge of Lake Mead. He can hear the Cazadors buzzing outside, and hopes they’ll lose interest by morning. He can probably stop wiping the sweat from Israel’s brow, but he doesn’t. He keeps his hands on him, and watches the weak rise and fall of his breath.
Israel is his oldest friend. He knew the other man long before Madison, or Catherine. Knew him back when Project Purity was just a pipe dream, and he was searching the wastelands of America for some sort of way to make it a reality. He remembers walking into that bar and seeing him for the first time, drinking whiskey and scowling at anyone who had dared to look at him. James, in his youthful bravado, sat next to him when no one else in the bar would dare to do so.
Shortly after, he raced to the inn they were staying at, and rescued the life of his only wife and child. Israel invited him to travel with his group for a while, and James couldn’t find it in himself to say no. He stayed with them for years, becoming close friends with Israel, discussing Old World literature with Mona, and watching Arcade grow from a weak baby to a strapping, if somewhat shy, young boy.
He could forget about the plights of the Capital Wasteland, and could almost forget about making Project Purity a reality. He even took Orion’s teasing in good form.
“Project Purity? What kind of pansy-ass name is that?”
Even when he found out they were Enclave, that didn’t stop his blind devotion. He was always wary of them after that, but he never stopped trusting Israel.
And then he died, or so they had thought.
There had been a summons to Navarro sent to them. Israel had wanted to ignore it, but Orion had talked him into it. They all went, with little Arcade in tow, to receive new orders. James had gone along with a cover story of being part of the East Coast branch of the Enclave. They hadn’t existed at the time, and at that point he thought they never would.
“I’m going to give the brass a piece of my mind,” Israel had said. “I’m through. Done. I have Mona and Arcade to think about now.” Arcade had seen the eyebots, and squealed with delight. He called them all ‘Ralphie’ and chattered to James excitedly about going on wasteland adventures with one. He smiled indulgently and picked Arcade up to see the ones higher up.
“Just be careful,” James had murmured, fearful for his friend’s life. “I know you served them, but they’re still Enclave. They’re still ruthless.” Israel had smiled that same prideful smile, the smile that said he was immortal, and James always believed him.
That was the last time James ever saw him until meeting him in a bar in the Georgia wasteland, almost forty years later.
“You know,” he begins, both to soothe Israel from the nightmares the poison gave him and to soothe himself from old memories. “Both times I’ve met you; it’s been in some dank dive somewhere. Both times I’ve met you, I’ve come away with you at your slightest urging.” He shakes his head, wiping sweat from the other man’s brow. “We’ve both been married, and lost our wives. We both have children that we have no idea where they are.”
“James,” Israel moans, and James pauses to see if he is awake. He is still held captive by the throes of bad dreams, and James presses a soft kiss to his forehead.
“We’re too old for this,” he whispers against the wrinkled skin of Israel’s forehead. “We’re running out of time.”
But running out of time to do what, James couldn’t say.
Re: Keep Your Composure 10/?
Date: 2011-11-27 12:57 am (UTC)Keep Your Composure 11/?
Date: 2011-11-27 01:09 am (UTC)Courier decides, inexplicitly, to change their plans and head straight to Jacobstown. The farther up the mountain they get, the colder the air and the worse it is on her. She tries to stifle her coughing, and the others strike up conversation to cover the sound of her wheezing.
“So, who wants to have a snowball fight when we get up the mountain?” Veronica asks cheerfully, and Arcade can almost kiss her for her exuberance. “I call Courier.” Courier laughs, and starts hacking again, but the smile doesn’t leave her face. Boone is by her side, as always, and this time she leans into him without a fuss.
“We can bake cookies,” Lily cheers, and Courier nods.
“Of course, grandma,” she rasps. “Any kind of cookies you want.” Lily coos at her, and sweeps her up into her giant arms, much to Courier’s chagrin.
“Little Jimmy needs to take a breather. He knows how much the cold aggravates his asthma.” Courier opens her mouth to protest, only to be cut off by Veronica.
“Yeah, Jimmy,” she says, grinning. Rex whines, and sits down. Cass leans over to pet him, murmuring soft words of encouragement.
“I’m going to scout for a place to for us to stay,” Boone says. He takes off his coat and holds it out to the Courier. She smiles weakly and Lily takes it from Boone, wrapping Courier up in it tightly. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll come with you,” Raul says. “Couldn’t hurt for you to have another set of eyes, even if they are half blind.” Raul and Boone take off, Boone’s red beret becoming a speck in the distance. They all sit down and Veronica tries to start a campfire, finally filching some of Cass’ whiskey to use as fuel.
Cass doesn’t pay her any sort of mind other than to make a face at her. She’s busy talking to Rex, and Arcade thinks her voice is the softest he has ever heard it.
“Poor thing. You and Courier are just about dying on us, aren’t you? Too bad we can’t get her a transplant to fix whatever’s wrong with her.” Rex whines, leaning into Cass’ hand, and she says, “Shh, I know it hurts, boy. You can make it. Hell, I’ll even carry you if the going gets rough, all right?” She looks up to see Arcade staring up at her, and says defensively, “What?”
“I,” Arcade says, not sure what to say. “You’re a hell of a lot nicer than you let on.” Cass snorts, patting the spot next to her.
“Siddown, pretty boy. No use in freezing your ass off by yourself,” she says, and he plops down next to her. He strokes Rex’s flank, ignoring the faded red bull painted on it.
“I always wanted a dog,” he speaks up suddenly. Cass lights two cigarettes, passing him one. He takes it without complaint.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” he says. “Always thought they were amazing when they weren’t feral.” He leaves out the part about having a dog being as American as baseball and apple pie, and wanting to live out the American Dream as preached by the Enclave.
“I had one once,” Cass says. “His name was Sour. A left over from before my old man took off.”
“Did you like him?”
“He was mean as fuck to anyone but me and my ma. But yeah. He was a damned good dog,” she says almost nostalgically, scratching Rex behind the ears.
Boone and Raul make it back, and lead the group to a shack built into the side of the mountain. Arcade finds his eyes looking toward the Remnant’s Bunker, and he feels almost ill at the thought of being so close to it. He takes deep breaths, telling himself that even if the others did find it, there was no way they would know what he used to be. No way to tell by looking at him.
“You ok?” Boone asks worriedly, eyes darting back and forth between him and Courier. Arcade swallows.
“Fine,” he says, forcing a grin. “Just a little tired.”
Re: Keep Your Composure 11/?
Date: 2011-11-27 10:41 am (UTC)Always excited to see this story updated, a!a. You are wonderful.
Re: Keep Your Composure 11/?
Date: 2011-12-03 11:09 pm (UTC)Keep Your Composure 12/?
Date: 2011-12-04 04:28 pm (UTC)The door to the shack is open, and Israel is watching James fish. He can almost see the man he used to look like, and the faint outline of a blonde child on his knee.
“What was your daughter like?” he croaks, shifting in his bedroll uncomfortably. He’s too hot, but it’s hard to find the energy to do more than squirm. Even talking exhausts him. James freezes for a split second before answering.
“She is very intelligent,” he answers. “Very kind. A lot like her mother, but more like me, God bless her. I,” and at this, he pauses. “I always felt guilty, and tried not to be too hard on her.”
“Why?” Israel asks. James doesn’t answer until after he manages to pull a fish out of the water, and watches it struggle for breath until dying.
“I was always comparing her to Arcade,” he answers finally, shooting an apologetic look at Israel. “I always wanted her to be like him. As well-behaved, as smart. I was secretly delighted when her hair grew to be blonde because it meant she looked a little more like him.”
“You took care of him after I was gone, didn’t you?” Israel asks, a weariness infecting his voice. “After you thought I was dead.” James nods, and sadly answers,
“I stayed until Mona died. I would’ve stayed after that too, but Orion forced me out at gunpoint. He blamed me for not being able to protect you two.”
“I’m sorry,” Israel says. “For that.” James shakes his head.
“I’m not. I understood. Even when I left to go back to the Capital Wasteland, I always thought about you,” he says, and his look makes Israel avert his eyes. It’s too deep, too searching and loving, and Israel can’t deal with it.
He doesn’t deserve it.
James continues to speak.
“I thought about all of you. You know, I never wanted children of my own until I met you and Mona. Until Arcade.” James falls silent, working on gutting the fish for dinner.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” Israel says, more to break the silence than anything else. “For taking care of him.” James shakes his head, and a soft hint of a smile graces his ruined features.
“No thanks needed. You all were my family. I loved you.”
Israel doesn’t ask if that love still exists. Somehow, he doesn’t think he can bear to know.
Re: Keep Your Composure 12/?
Date: 2011-12-05 07:42 am (UTC)Re: Keep Your Composure 12/?
Date: 2011-12-06 07:11 am (UTC)Keep Your Composure 13/?
Date: 2011-12-06 06:02 pm (UTC)She isn’t doing much better than she was, but she’s pushing through for the sake of the group. They all can see that, and don’t begrudge her it. They all tell her how well she’s doing, how healthy she looks, and even Arcade can’t help but join in with their false encouragements.
He may not have a high tolerance for bullshit, but sometimes life is too short.
She hits Cass in the back of the head with a snowball, and the caravaneer swears playfully. Cass tackles her into the snow, taking care to not slam into her too hard. Courier squeals with delight, wrestling away from her. Rex barks happily from the sidelines, and races over to the two women to lick their faces. Doc Henry had given the cyberdog some medicine for the pain, and in the morning they were going to head out to find him a new brain.
They were a lot like Dorothy and her ragtag bunch trying to find the wizard, only instead of a yellow brick road they were traversing a nuclear wasteland forgotten by time, Arcade muses.
Courier hits Arcade with a snowball, and he takes it with good grace. He even manages to laugh while brushing the freezing snow out of his hair. She shoots him a lopsided grin before holding a finger to her lips. She eyes Raul, who has his back turned to them and is talking to Boone. She sneaks over while Cass and Veronica pummel each other with snowballs and yell obscenities that cause Lily to scold the both of them, and do they kiss their mothers with those mouths? E-DE chirps along, happily playing something about letting it snow, and Arcade tries not to glare at the robot too much.
Boone raises an eyebrow when he sees Courier, but otherwise lets her dump snow over the ghoul’s head. He swears beautifully in Spanish while Boone and Courier laugh. Arcade sits on the porch next to a happy Rex, lighting up another cigarette. He always promised Daisy he would never take up smoking, but he always seems to smoke during times of crisis and cold weather.
Courier turns to Boone to throw snow at him, but he beats her to it. She spits the snow out of her mouth with a delighted expression, and tries to tackle him. He easily catches her arms, and holds her a little too close against him. She gives him a wary look, and he smiles. Arcade blows a puff of smoke out, watching the two through a haze. Boone picks Courier up, twirling her around before gently depositing her into a pile of snow. Arcade hears a muffled ‘Hey!’ before Courier sits up, pulling Boone in after her.
“Those two should just fuck and get it over with,” Cass grumbles, plopping down next to Arcade, the brim of her hat weighed down with snow.
“I love it when you talk dirty,” Arcade comments, handing her a cigarette. She lights it, and before she can bring it to her lips, Veronica plucks it out of her hand, E-DE buzzing around her head.
“These are bad for you, you know,” she says, taking a deep drag before handing it back to Cass.
“Stop bogarting my smokes, you dyke,” Cass teases. Veronica, in response, collapses into Cass’ lap.
Keep Your Composure 13a/?
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2011-12-06 06:02 pm (UTC) - ExpandKeep Your Composure 14/?
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2011-12-06 06:54 pm (UTC) - ExpandKeep Your Composure 14a/?
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2011-12-06 06:55 pm (UTC) - ExpandRe: Keep Your Composure 14a/?
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2011-12-07 08:54 am (UTC) - ExpandKeep Your Composure 15a/?
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2011-12-14 04:11 am (UTC) - ExpandRe: Keep Your Composure 15a/?
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2011-12-14 04:34 am (UTC) - ExpandRe: Keep Your Composure 15a/?
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2011-12-14 06:20 am (UTC) - ExpandKeep Your Composure 15b/?
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2011-12-14 05:30 pm (UTC) - ExpandRe: Keep Your Composure 15b/?
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2011-12-17 11:09 am (UTC) - ExpandKeep Your Composure 16/?
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2011-12-20 06:02 pm (UTC) - ExpandRe: Keep Your Composure 16/?
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2011-12-20 06:10 pm (UTC) - Expand(no subject)
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2011-12-23 02:21 am (UTC) - Expand(no subject)
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2011-12-23 02:22 am (UTC) - Expand(no subject)
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2011-12-23 12:25 pm (UTC) - ExpandKeep Your Composure 18/?
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2011-12-24 09:47 pm (UTC) - ExpandRe: Keep Your Composure 18/?
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2011-12-25 05:18 am (UTC) - ExpandRe: Keep Your Composure 18/?
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2012-01-03 11:28 am (UTC) - ExpandKeep Your Composure 19/?
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2012-01-31 12:33 am (UTC) - ExpandKeep Your Composure 20/?
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2012-02-04 02:58 am (UTC) - ExpandRe: Keep Your Composure 20/?
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2012-02-07 10:43 am (UTC) - Expand