DE: My spine is the baseline

[bjornwilde]

 Feeling uninspired this morning and so I am going with Fic Friday for our topic, but with a musical twist:
1-Tag in with the pups you'd like to play with.
2-Hit shuffle on your music playing program/device of choice and then tag others with song titles or lyrics to use as prompts.
3-Write anything that inspires!
4-Repeat?

Comments

[camwyn]

Ellen, Gordon, Shephard, and because I should be writing fic about him but keep chickening out and writing background material instead, my favorite historical Fallout universe character, Roger Maxson.

[bjornwilde]

Roger: Giant

Ellen: Fake Lights in the Sky

Gordon: Inmost life

Shephard: An endless standoff

Prompt: Giant

[first_of_steel]

Atlas Van Lines was the most reliable moving company in the world, or at least in the United States. Yvonne's letters from home had assured Roger of that a dozen times. They screened and bonded their drivers, used custom-programmed loading robots with half a dozen different damage minimization and space utilization algorithms, and were never, ever later than the maximum time cited in their estimates to prospective customers. If anyone in the world could be trusted to get the Maxson family's worldly goods from Fort Howes to Mariposa without a hitch, it was them.

And he had to admit, now that he'd made it all the way home, she was right.

Mostly.

“I'm terribly sorry, sir,” Oswald said. Yvonne had given the Mr. Handy the task of overseeing the movers in Roger's absence. The robot, like all his kind, had no face and no hands, but nevertheless gave the impression of uncomfortable fidgeting. “I can't excuse this, not even the slightest bit- I specifically packed all of Junior's gear myself and vetted the padding twice over before allowing the Atlas bots anywhere near it. The fault is entirely my own.”

Roger sighed, and dragged a hand over his face. “Accidents happen, Oswald,” he said. “The driver was only human. Probably... probably just took a turn too sharply somewhere.”

“Possibly, sir, and your capacity for forgiveness is laudable, but I do believe I could have done better before turning your son's gear over to his care.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Roger prodded the distinctly bent front wheel of his son's bicycle with one thumb. “Even machines have their limitations.”

“That's very kind of you to say, sir.”

“Kind doesn't enter into it. It's just true.” He straightened, wiping his hands on his pants. “Look, I'm not interested in assigning blame here. Let's just get this situation fixed. I need you to get a Yellow Pages database loaded. Find me the nearest bicycle store. Junior's going to need to get to school and I'm not putting him on the bus if I can help it.”

“Very good, sir.” The robot hummed silently for a moment. “I do believe I've found one, sir. Giant Cycling World, at Twenty-Two Ironwood Drive. They're open for two more hours this afternoon.”

“Good. Get Junior. Tell him we're going to the store.”

“Yes, sir.”

Prompt: Fake Lights In The Sky

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

Derck (he'd never been very good at spelling) had been hunting the area north of the old power station a long while now, but for the past year or so he'd lost his grip on the territory. Pissed him off. Who did these Brotherhood assholes think they were, bringing in all those jerks in power armor and running everyone else who'd been living there half their lives out? Calling it 'security' and saying 'you're not cleared to know why'? Fuckers.

Man, he'd've been fine with it if they'd just told him why. but noooooo. “Get lost, local.” “This is a sensitive site, local.” “You've got an entire Wasteland to roam in and the hunting's a lot better west of here, local.” “If you don't know why the sky was glowing like that last night I'm not about to tell you, local.” And then they marched out the next day with way more people than they'd had when they started, fuck him if he knew why, and wouldn't even answer his questions.

Well. He'd show them. Whatever it was they were doing, it lit up the sky like nobody's business. He could light up the sky too, and if that threw them off enough to come and ask what he was doing, he'd give them an answer in exchange for one of his own.

(Derck had never been very good at logic, either.)

He got a Fat Man from Lucky Harith in exchange for a shitload of shotguns and a mini-nuke to load it with in exchange for some things he didn't like to part with, and he parked himself on a hill about five minutes' walk from where the Brotherhood set up their guard, and waited for a good foggy night when the least little bit of fire would light up the whole cloud like a fire across the sky. Not that they got a lot of foggy nights in that part of the Wasteland, but they came sometimes, and he figured an answer was worth waiting for.

Only he never did get that fog, because discretion was among the other things Derck had never been much good at, and Lucky Harith was good friends, unbeknownst to Derck, with Paladin 101. Who tapped him on the shoulder while he was trying to figure out how to use the Fat Man and scared him so bad he dropped the damn thing.

She seemed to think it was funny.

Prompt: Endless Standoff

[hecu_marine]

“Listen, fucker, you are so fuckin' severely outclassed it ain't even fuckin' funny. I got no clue who you think you are or why you're here. I don't give a shit. I'm Sergeant-Major Adrian Shephard, United States Marine Corps, and I am the single most patient fuckin' son of a bitch you will ever meet. I learned to sit and wait for somethin' to git into killin' position when I was six goddamn years old. I spent half my childhood free time up trees waitin' for a target to cross my path, and the other half stalkin' blood trails until whatever I'd wounded got so tired it fell down dead. I can go four days and three nights without havin' to stop to sleep and even then I promise you I will wake at the slightest change of sound or environmental condition. I've gone longer without eating than your little piss-joke of a stomach can imagine. And if you think I can't perform to spec that whole fuckin' time you got another think comin', because even if the rest of me's goin' to pieces I promise you, friend, my right hand's good enough to do what I need it to do and do it exactly the way I need to do it long after the rest of me's worn out. So if you think you c'n stay holed up there with your little joke of a weapon and pose some kind of threat, if you think whatever you got in the way of skill and stamina's gonna be enough to put the rest of this location into lockdown mode because you pose some kind of danger, you have got another think coming. There's only one man in this world who has a snowball's chance in hell of outlasting me in a standoff, and he asked me to come out here and deal with your sorry ass. Go ahead and settle yourself in, fucker. I promise you, the instant you waver, I will be waiting for you.”

Let's go with the loudest

[bjornwilde]

Tybalt
Selina Kyle
Sam WIlson

And over off stage,
Sabine Wren
The Luidaeg

[abyssum_invocat]

Sam: toy soldiers, will you follow?

[notapilot]

[Assuming something to do with Cap3: Civil War]

He sworn an oath, to protect the Constitution and obey the President, and even though he wasn't part of the military any longer, he still believed in that oath.

He couldn't believe in the law that stood between them all. Oversight and training were all well and good, but not at the cost of individual liberty. That put way too much power in the government.

Still, he sworn an oath.

The words echoed in his head, in his voice from 10 years ago. "I Sam Wilson, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic..."

Was an unjust law an enemy of the Union?

Re: Let's go with the loudest

[ceitfianna]

The Luidaeg with possible Quentin-Do no harm (Not lyrics but it seemed like a good phrase for her.)

Re: Let's go with the loudest

[bjornwilde]

Oh, I like this and I'm sorry I won't have an icon to go with it.

Re: Let's go with the loudest

[ceitfianna]

No worries, I know how that can be.

Re: Let's go with the loudest

[salty_witch]

And my tablet ate the full post. Looks like you get an icon after all since I'm on the laptop now.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
She stood in impotent fury, held by ancient bonds.

"Oh dear, did I forget to mention my mother was of Titania's line? Silly me," the Countess gloated and stepped past her. "Maybe next time, deary."

Unfortunately for the Countess, the Luidaeg no longer worked alone. A point which was driven home by the baseball bat to her face. "She may be bound, but I'm not," Quentin said, his voice tight with anger. Looking to the Luidaeg, he asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, kid. Yeah," she replied, touched by his concern. "Is the bitch out?"

Re: Let's go with the loudest

[ceitfianna]

Ooh, I love the idea of them working together someday as he comes more into his own.

Re: Let's go with the loudest

[bjornwilde]

I do like the idea of them teaming up but I also like the idea of Quentin stepping in and saving her. :)

[chanter1944]

I'm late, but...

Sariel Rager

and over in the sandboxes, DJ Makosa

Lateish

[rudderless]

But:

Clem!
Ep!
Jules!
Pinkie!
Dixie!

And

Merida! (possibly)