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#dipshit and pip
thatladdydnp · 5 months
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"Swinging is in every video now" no, phil's grandma's gloryhole is 😭 what are we talking abt rn
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Periodically, all the rest of that day after the ceremony was over, either Taslin or I would turn to the other and say, "I can't believe it!"
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"I don't know why I can't believe it," I added wryly. "We sure as heck put in the work."
"God, I know, right?" Taslin yawned.
"Maybe it's because--aren't we the first in our family to go to college, Taz?"
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"Not exactly," my sister said. "Dad has his degree. Fine Arts."
"Oh, that's right."
"But other than Dad, I think we probably are?"
"That's what I was thinking," I said. "I know Mom said Grandma didn't go. And Grandma was a best-selling author, so that's probably why Mom didn't see any need to go."
"That, and I think she wanted to make a name for herself in the art world as soon as possible," agreed Taslin. "I'm glad I don't have that kind of pressure hanging over my head!"
"No," I said slyly, "you have an entirely different kind of pressure hanging over your head."
My sister laughed.
"I really did forget, you know," she said. "I completely forgot I'd asked Ahmed to go steady. We weren't running into each other that often while we were back home, and then Skip just kind of swept in and--"
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I took a deep breath.
"Taz, there's something I have to tell you about Skip."
She cocked one eyebrow at me, but didn't say anything. I took that as a sign to go ahead.
"He's, uh... he's written me a couple of love letters," I said, embarrassed. If I weren't so green, I'd have turned scarlet.
Taslin sighed. She was quiet for a moment, obviously considering what to say.
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"Awkward for you, I'll bet," she said finally. "Ugh! I'm so sorry."
"Sorry for what? You didn't do anything!"
"Just, sorry in general. Sorry I brought him around so much. Sorry he put you in that position."
"Sure, but you didn't put me in any position, unless you were ghostwriting the letters for him," I pointed out.
Taslin sighed again.
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"I guess... I guess I'm only really surprised that he'd be so dumb as to think you wouldn't tell me. What a dipshit!"
"No kidding," I agreed.
"But that he'd have trouble being faithful... I'm not really too surprised by that. People did try to warn me. And he was sometimes a little too cagey about where he'd been, why he hadn't called--"
"So there were signs."
"Oh, tons," Taslin said, almost cheerfully. "Especially now that I think about it. Hindsight's 20/20, right? Yeah. There were definitely signs. But who wants to look at those when you're in love? Well," she amended, "maybe not love. Lots and lots of lust, though!"
We both giggled at that.
"You didn't ask for my advice--" I began.
"Indeed I did not."
"But I don't think you should tell Ahmed. Don't do the big dramatic 'confess to cheating' thing. Just chalk it up to a college fling and forget about it."
"I don't like unsolicited advice, Tierney," my sister began reprovingly, "but... I think you're probably right. It will only hurt him, and for what? For Skip? Who's Skip?"
"Chip? I have no idea who you're talking about," I said.
"But I'm telling you, I don't know anyone named Pip!" Taz said, in such a believable tone of outrage that I could only crack up.
That made Taslin crack up.
"I've got it," she said once she had her breath back. "I'm going to change his name in my phone to Dip. Mr. Dip Shit."
"Nooooo!" I howled, laughing again.
"Yes!" she said triumphantly. "That way, if he calls, I'll know not to answer. And if Ahmed happens to see it, I can tell him it's just some loser who was hopelessly obsessed with me at school. A loser whose real name I have long since forgotten."
"Then why would he be in your phone at all?"
"We had to work on a project together. The professor wouldn't let us pick our partners."
"Perfect," I said admiringly.
"Thank you," Taslin said. "I do have a degree in Communications, you know."
"I can believe it."
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squirrelno2 · 1 year
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My Star Wars OCs: a comedic primer
if you’ve wandered here from ao3 you’ve probably encountered at least one of these people, but if you’ve found me through the vagaries of tumblr that is less likely so! Here is a list of my major ocs for your convenience for the next time I start going off about nothing whatsoever, organised by the story/universe they were introduced in:
Sometimes a Family Is verse
Ven/Shiny: she/her, Nautolan, Dogma’s adopted daughter. half-forgotten childhood trauma papered over with borrowed trauma from her family who spends most of her time clinging to anything clone-related that she can
Nalyan: he/him, human, totally not Dogma’s adopted son (he is they just don’t ever admit it). A poorly rested limp noodle of a person who is too busy doing bootleg medical research in the back of a beat up ship to go outside.
Clone Rebellion verse
Sneak: he/him, clone, formerly served under Krell [Sneak darling I’m so sorry]. puts up a very good front of being a cool collected criminal mastermind when on a con but also will jump off a bridge if you dare him to. as one does.
Nali: she/her, Twi’lek, smuggler/con artist. her soft spot for slaves and clones is a parsec wide, but also she’s usually the one daring Sneak to jump off a bridge
Nine: he/him, clone, still serving under Krell. baby Nine is a bundle of joy and every version of him after the first chapter is deeply deeply fucked, but that won’t stop him from also daring Sneak to jump off a bridge. while doing a flip.
Drum: he/him, clone, pilot in 327th. he likes music and singing and making way too astute observations about people, and is probably the only person on this list who doesn’t think people should be dared to jump off bridges. in general he's under the impression he's the smartest person in the room, and on rare occasions he's almost right.
Dead Brothers Rescue Coalition verse
Nel: she/he/they, clone, lieutenant in the Coruscant Guard. by circumstance they are a pencil-pusher and by passion they are a detective, but mostly they're just really bad at friendship. they make up for it with stubbornness.
Jesse Lives verse
Jale: he/him, theelin, scavenger freelance salvage worker. brightly coloured dipshit who loves his mother and has never effectively used a weapon in his life. preferred survival tactics are Talking Too Much and Being Useful, but also the first one tends to get him into trouble more than anything.
Time Slip verse
Arson: he/him, clone, maintenance on Kamino. absolutely full of little shit energy and voted most likely to commit the crime he’s named for. likes droids more than people, which considering the people he knows is absolutely fair.
Murder: he/they, clone, washed-up medic in training turned Kaminoan maintenance. would never ever hurt a fly but also spends most of their time making excuses for their more violent loved ones because ??? cognitive dissonance I guess.
Jaywalking: she/her, clone, maintenance on Kamino. knows all your secrets and is just trying to decide if she wants to blackmail you or kill you over them. the thing keeping her from doing the latter is usually the fact that Murder and Arson would be sad about it.
Other
Nobody: he/him, clone, ARC trooper who works almost exclusively with 212th. he is exactly as fucked up as his name implies, and also more so because his best friend used to be Slick. make of that what you will.
Pip: he/him, clone, 501st. a beautiful ray of sunshine who will see the worst person in the room, ask "is anyone gonna befriend them?" and not wait for an answer.
Roadkill: he/him, clone, 501st. the worst person in the room. really tired of Pip's shit.
Zeel: she/her, Rodian, doctor with a very very lapsed license. abrasive at the best of times, but also winner of the "Most Cameos in My Fics" award because she can't stop helping people. mostly clones. she's very annoyed about that fact, too.
More OCs can be found @shagpaboloutpost (clones) and @relevant-url-incoming (SWTOR)
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sorikkunn · 1 year
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JIMMY SHIMMY INCORRECT QUOTE #2
Pip: Fuck fuck fuck the stove is on fire fuck fuck fu-
Kimmy: Pippy it’s fine we just need to call an adult!
Pip: Kimberly 
Pip: We are adults
Kimmy: We need an adultier adult dipshit now where the fuck is Jinlei?!
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nochiquinn · 2 years
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exandria unlimited: kymal: part 2: I planned for this
not adele dazeem
h a t s
"I feel like critical role's so serious" "WHAT"
sends that clip to all the "critical role was never this crass" tlovm critics
they got her
erica seems so much more comfortable tonight
pick-me casino
"I got fiddle-fingers!"
POODLE PIP
oh, oxboxtra does that one sometimes
see, bell's hells, THEY get it
I'm love him
mor: brumestone dorian: [rapid blinking]
spaceship
"and hide his dumb ass"
BOOP ACTION
matt teaching aimee and erica how to hit dice
rip aabria's voice
the chroma conclave getting turned into a tacky theme spa is the BEST
"no ringworm for dorian"
"he's not little, he's 6''6'!"
the way opal's face dropped at "thordak"
orym would probably also have had...some reaction
dariax
"it's kinda disrespectful but. y'know."
"I've always wanted to see the top of your head!" "👀" "NO"
"you can't get pregnant in a hot tub - you COULD get chlamydia!"
(edit from the future: I can't believe I spelled that right the first time)
jinoir :(
I need them to adopt and protect this child
"dorian's a taurus for sure" can we not call me out personally in this moment
ouchie check
for the record laying on pokey things is my absolute nightmare
"please draw it. and tag me."
dream check DREAM CHECK
comment cards
I love opal so goddamn much
everybody trying so fucking hard not to laugh over aimee
stop dating the episode
("no one who hasn't watched shortonegaming will get that" well maybe they should watch shortonegaming then)
(watch shortonegaming)
matt telling erica "it's fine, it's gonna be fine"
awakened vestige!!!
this is the dai character editor mirror
opal and the power of friendship
where is dariax. where is the back-to-back
"what should I do next" stop being a fucking dipshit
diligent, intelligent
they got the mother gothel treatment didn't they
GO AWAY AND THEN COME BACK SOON
"thank you for letting me do that, it was so disrespectful"
"she's wearing this, because we did the art"
cognitive psience
"sometimes cuddle buddies"
ted 2 again
"that is a man who let a pet rock die"
....birds of a feather
"will this be a pun list? YES."
PIERODIN
"I'm just gonna make eye contact with you, Matt"
LIFE NEEDS WINE TO LIVE
how long until the svg goes up for the vinyl cutters and their wine glass wraps
"she grew up in this buffet"
fantasy ostrich
big farm-a
"the exact same" gay
"we've moved a few couches together" GAY
"you gave me the power!"
innuendo as spellcasting flavor
apparently we are two hours into a five hour stream, help me
the early break is going to be my downfall
orym where are you
oh BOY
"you heard an eldritch language" that's how I hear all math
I don't like how much this guy smirks
dariax is a GOOD BOY
"I made her yeet a dice :D"
for a hot second I thought she threw it AT him
someone loan her a new d20
awww
what in the gravira
his mean little brainhole
don't love that!
"should have given him lair actions"
"look at the flowchart!!"
exCUSE
thrall? girl got a thrall?
poska-senpai noticed me
"doors are mysterious"
"the biggest boss I can offer: a mean door"
"do you think we care about money more than you?"
"as long as the money is out of this vault, I did my job"
I love one (1) himbo dwarf
"do you have some - it's just me, stop screaming - do you have some paper"
cyrus did one (1) useful thing
it's free gratis
this means in their future sessions - and there better goddamn be future sessions - they will have not one but two bags of holding
unless something really stupid happens
hello??
raven? matron of ravens?
(I'm sorry, I know why they had to change it, but "matron of ravens" will never be as smooth to say as "raven queen")
Dariax Is A Good Boy
even if this is a stupid idea (I have no idea) it is Hurting His Friend and now it has to Die
matt control your face
GO AWAY PIKACHU
aimee stop metagaming
"just smashing stuff?" "....yeah" "hell yeah"
anjali: wait I have the thing
there's an hourish left and I am in suffering
MAP
gaola mvp
dick around
"we're all impossibly stupid!"
"have you ever kicked a building to death?"
is fantasy c4 the only explosive you've heard of
"I'm really good at breaking things!"
"I had...a thought" "no!"
lmao the dice roller
"it's not that good a plan"
"I love you and I like you, and if this is not airtight I will FUCK you up"
!!!
QUEEN SHIT
god I want an exu animated miniseries
KING SHIT
did I compare the nameless ones to the dollars from durarara last time we did this
!!!
god I am TENSE
please don't everybody go splat
"roll good" "I'M TRYING"
I love her SO MUCH
"everyone turn into a simple machine!"
but they didn't HAVE machines in the middle ages
(this is more salt at tlovm critics, ignore me)
YIP YIP
the world's craziest poodle
wall effect!
smoke? clouds? probably clouds
here at the end I would like to state that every time they mentioned morrighan's songbird I pictured Songbird from bioshock
HEY
HEY WAIT A MINUTE
HER name? as is Mor is using someone else's name?
AS IN AN OLD WOMAN IN THE FEYWILD NAMED MORRIG(H)AN?
that was a sequel hook aabria you can't fool me
"we got 50k and a floating balcony!"
"did you forget their relationship started with peeing off a wall?!"
[shakes tin cup] spare a stinger?
no stinger :(
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At this point I’ve written so many response letters to PIP and ESA assessments I should run some kind of hotline or paid service
Here’s some hot tips for people:
1) A mental state examination is not a fucking thing. Assessors love saying they did a mental state examination, but that’s not part of Dwp protocol, it’s an outdated term from something they USED to do in assessments, and you should call them on this bullshit at every opportunity
2) whether or not you have a diagnosis for something is not actually important! All you need to be eligible for benefits (in the uk) is evidence that the SYMPTOMS have impacted your life. This can be in the form of a doctors letter, medical reports, statements from people that know you, or from an employer or school. Literally you just need evidence that is consistent with your claims.
3) assessors love to fucking throw informal observations around. Please remind them that according to the dwp guidelines assessors are required to be mindful that the assessment set up can create “a false sense of functionality”, and they must treat provided reports and evidence as having at least equal weight to “informal observations”. They are not actually allowed to over rule everything else because they claim to have seen you walk normally for ten seconds. Also, fuck those guys. Fuck them so much.
4) do read the relevant assessment guidelines, if you’re able. They can be very enlightening, and it’s fun to throw them in the assessors face
5) fight for a paper based assessment wherever possible, it gives them far fewer opportunities to lie about shit and you won’t have to travel to one of their assessment centres.
6) be as passive aggressive as possible in your responses. You can’t be openly hostile to these dipshits, but there’s nothing preventing you from filling your writing with as much thinly veiled contempt as you are capable of. The level you want to shoot for is “being technically polite, but also very obsviously about three seconds away from snapping and assassinating someone”. For one, it’s very cathartic. And also, they tend to dick you around less if they can sense that your righteous outrage is going to keep you from giving up after the first few failures.
That’s just some shit from off the top of my head. I wish you all the best of luck in wringing every penny possible out of those miserable bastards
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dipshit and pip didnt upload an easter baking vid because of That Show i hope yall are proud of yourselves
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sucuretcannelle · 3 years
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One-Shot Anon
Presents
Uno Night (A one-shot where everyone rages. Also, this was written before it was revealed Nash put the 'no hearing curses' spell on Pippin, so consider this outdated. Lol)
----
"Guys! Guys!"
Everyone lifted their heads as Cup rushed into the room. He was holding what seemed to be a small box. Oddly, too, he was grinning. "I had the best fucking idea!"
"If it involves putting cinnamon in Bird's food, I'm not joining that again," Writer huffed as she looked up from her paper.
Cup ignored Bird's loud 'WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!' as he ran into the middle of the room and held up the box.
Everyone, except Woods, collectively paled.
The male was holding up UNO.
"Nope, nope." Noodles shook her head as she stood up from her spot on a couch. She lightly tugged on Prompt's arm as well, who had been sitting next to her, but was now standing. "We're not playing that. Nope. Not again."
"Awww, c'mon!" Cup pouted. "It'll be fun!"
Finn glared. "Fun?! Nash and Alexi tried to strangle each other!"
"MOTHERFUCKER CHEATED AND I STAND BY IT!"
"I WILL GUT YOU LIKE A FISH, BIRD BOY-"
Cinna sighed and shook her head before looking at her second lover. "Cup, hun, normally I'd be all over some type of game to pass the time. But.. UNO? Really? Do you not remember you throwing Bird into the wall after he skipped you four times?"
Cup grumbled, "you agreed that it was mean of him."
"And I still stand by that!" the girl nodded. "But on the other hand, I'd like to not have to help heal anyone."
Woods blinked before standing. "I have no clue what UNO, but judging by how everyone is behaving, it makes me believe I may need to babysit Pippin."
The butterfly-human hybrid walked out of the door before anyone could say anything else. The room fell quiet for a moment, save for Nash's small sigh of relief. Everyone looked at each other before Citypop spoke up.
"Well, now that Pippin is around, maybe we will be able to control ourselves." the demon pried himself from Cookie, who whined at the loss of contact from her husband. "Plus, Woods is a good mediator and everyone likes her! So maybe we won't get into a fight this time."
The rest of the group considered it. They knew Citypop was right. They had been much more careful now that Pippin was around, and the boy wouldn't be able to intrude on the game if Woods was around to babysit him.
After a moment, Alroy spoke up.
"I'll get the table."
----
The table was a circle. They estate had a lot more of circle tables, and not many rectangle ones. Orion himself had them put away after the last UNO game, where Writer and Bird both broke off pieces and nearly stabbed each other.
Everyone was seated around the table, each person having 7 cards. The game had begun some time ago, about 30 minutes, but it was going surprisingly well. Only one threat had been made.
Until now.
Finn stared at Alroy as the demon placed down a skip card. Seeing as Finn was seated next to Alroy, and the order had been reversed eariler by Vex, the skip went to him instead of Cup.
"I will kill you later," Finn growled as he clutched the cards in his hands.
"Sure you will," the former guardian demon mused, turning his attention back to the game.
Bird snickered before placing down card. "Aw, is the wittle puppy maaad?"
"I will KILL ALL OF YOU-"
Prompt chuckled and shook his head. "No you won't."
The ex-prince glanced at the card Bird placed and let out a small hum. He looked down at the cards he held and froze. He didn't have the same color. Hell, he didn't even have a wild card. Well.. that was a lie. He did have one, but it would screw over the person next to him. The Niviasin flicked his tail as he glanced at Noodles.
The neko felt her heart drop when her lover looked at her like that. "No. Don't do it."
Nash and Cup both grinned, "do it! Do it!"
Amoris glared at the two. "You two really are menaces."
Prompt let out a small sigh. "I'm sorry, love."
Noodles let out a mock cry as her lover set down a +4. "WHA-"
"Y-you had-d a plus-s four?" Vex's eyes dialted.
The tall man chuckled softly and nodded. The cat-human hybrid let out grumbles as she grabbed four cards from the pile of cards. Alexi snickered at the misfortune of Noodles before placing down a card.
Senti shook his head as he stared at his cards before looking at Reba. "..What do I do again?"
Reba let out a small groan. "Place down a card that's the same color as the one Alexi put down."
"Why not the same number?"
"Because this isn't online, dumbass."
----
"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Cookie stood up from her stair and slammed her hands on the table. "WHAT THE FUCK?! I WAS GOING TO WIN!!!"
Writer grinned at her wife before looking at the skip card on the pile. "Yeah. You were. And if anything, blame Nash! He put down the red!"
"ME?!" Nash cried, exasperated. "Bird was the dipshit who put the +2!!"
"WH- YOU LYING SON OF A BITCH! I FUCKING HATE ALL OF YOU!"
"THIS IS WHY WE CAN'T HAVE THING THIIIIIIINGS." Citypop slammed his head against the table.
Alroy said nothing in response to all the arguing. Instead, he looked at Finn. Cinna stared at her other boyfriend, her eyes wide. "Alroy. Alroy, don't do it."
The demon slowly grinned as the wolf-human hybrid gripped the table.
Cup shook his head. "Don't do it. Alroy, please, don't do it."
Vex sucked in a harsh breath as Alroy stared Finn dead in the eyes and placed a +4 on the pile. Senti gasped as he quickly pushed away from the table, Reba following suit.
Which would fuck over Finn even more.
Because he had 20 cards.
The hybrid let out a shout of rage as he flipped the table over. Everyone let out various shouts of shock as they managed to dodge the table as it smashed against the wall.
Everyone was still for a moment before Alexi lunged at Nash and tackled him. "YOU CHEATING LITTLE SHIT-"
"I CHEATED?! OH YOU ASS-WIPE-"
Cookie and Writer began to roll around on the ground, while Citypop tried to break them apart. "YOU'RE MEANT TO LOVE ME!"
"I DO!"
"I WAS GOING TO WIN!"
"DARLINGS, PLEASE-"
Prompt slowly backed away from the chaos along with Cinna, Noodles, Vex, and Cup. The snake-human hybrid whimpered as he hung his head. "C-can't w-e have ni-nice things-s?"
"Fucker!"
Everyone in the room froze before turning to look at the entrance. There, standing proud, was a grinning Pippin and a crouching and panting Woods.
"I-I'm so sorry!" Woods panted. "He runs so fast!"
"Uh.. Pip? What did you say?" Cinna blinked.
"Fucker! Ass-wipe! Bitch! Shit!"
The group all hung their heads, grumbling under their breath.
"Son of a motherfucking whore bitch."
"FINN!!!"
---
(Sorry. I felt like this was kinda OOC, for everyone. Like.. I really feel like everyone is OOC and I don't feel like I included everyone. I also know I did a shit job on Reba and Senti, but I haven't gotten familiar with their characters yet. So I'm sorry, Cup. :(( But I'm proud of it soooo.. I'll send it! Hope everyone likes it!)
(IDC IF IT WAS OUT OF CHARACTER OR NOT, IT WAS FUCKING AMAZING AJSBAJJS)
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thatladdydnp · 2 years
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no one talk to me
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deadwooddross · 3 years
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So does that mean that Pip... is no more?? 🥺
NO I CARE THEM......I think theyre just gonna take on a new role in the setting...can def see pip and grendel having been friends past tense key because she is a button pusher and an impulsive dipshit MUCH TO THINK ABOUT THO....HAVE FAITH
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ubyr-babaj · 3 years
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I'm kinda falling deep into anti-intellectualism, because pips calling themselves "russian intelligentsia" are the most annoying, full of itself, sheltered bunch of dipshits you'll ever lay your eyes on.
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monochromemedic · 4 years
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is this edgy, yeah. but i’m bored and watching tik tok povs because there’s nothing to do
‘I don’t want to set the world on fire~ I just want to start a flame in your heart’ “Place is empty as shit, I kinda thought i’d see some goodies  but really it’s just a bunch of garbage. Like... rocks and what is this?” Deacon picked up a toilet seat and shook it around. “Where the hell did this come from like I haven’t seen any toliets nearby did a freaking mutant have some sort of... fetish and just carried one around like?”  ‘In my heart I have but one desire. And that one is you, no other will do.’ I turned to see Deacon putting the seat around his neck and pointing at himself. “Dude could you IMAGINE a super mutant looking like this? I’d piss myself laughing like what an IDIOT.” “Yeah you’re the one that looks like an idiot right now man. So maybe that was his plan the entire time that some dipshit would be the one to put a piss ring around his neck.” I muttered, giving him a sly smile as his smile slowly faded and he put the seat back down. “...Bummer. You wreck alot of things you know that?” The sound of the seat hitting the ground made a rather loud clattering sound. I swear I could hear a splatter too. “Deacon that is so fucking gross why would you put that around your neck-” I turned to face him, face dropping as the sound wasn’t actually the toliet seat, but the sound of a tripwire being broken.  Deacon’s usually dirty white shirt was now stained deep red, a small hole in his shirt from where the impact of the slug from the hidden shotgun shoved in some crook of the wall. ‘I’ve lost all ambition for worldly acclaim. I just want to be the one you love.’ Deacon managed to sway a little before falling down, blood gushing out on to the rubble as he wheezed, trying to talk but only coughing out the blood that was building in his lungs. I rushed over, throwing my bag to the ground as I tried to pull out every medical item I had. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck, you fucking ... IDIOT. Fucking of course there’s some TRAP. H...hey come on Deacon let’s just chill out and t...think. Um I’ll patch you up and it’ll be ok.”  The sound of his breathing, the wet choking, the guttural gurgle and then... nothing. ‘And with your admission that you feel the same, I’ll have reached the goal I’m dreaming of, believe me’ I sat there for ... minutes, staring at him. Unmoving. Growing colder. Losing color. Too much blood, all of it staining. I tried my best, pulling his body to a secluded corner of the ruins and covering him up with whatever I could find. I didn’t wanna leave him like this but lugging him around, it’d just be a danger to me. I’d come back with someone else, give him the burial he deserved. I... didn’t even know his name, what the fuck was name? I grabbed his sunglasses, hanging them from my coat. The book he was currently carrying around I shoved in my bag. I needed something from him. I wanted more but I couldn’t... leave him... bare. God the raiders were gonna find him, take everything. I stumbled out of the ruins. Nothing really mattered. Especially whatever we were searching for in there I couldn’t... even remember. Everything was growing hazy. I just felt numb. But I could feel emotions building up. Anger, sadness... longing. I was already missing him. I didn’t even got to tell him i.... ‘I don’t want to set the world on fire. I just want to start a flame in your heart.’ My attention turned to my pip-boy, slowly playing out the song. I didn’t even notice it was playing it was just...background noise for the most point but now. It was like it was mocking me. Being so sickeningly sweet and ironic. I could feel the venom building up in me as I gritted my teeth, tears welling in my eyes.  I smashed my wrist over and over against the hard steel of a nearby building, hearing the crack of plastic and electronics, the occasional sound of a bone shattering. But that didn’t matter i just wanted the damn music to STOP. STOP THE MUSIC. STOP THE FUCKING SONG. But it only seemed to drag on, even stuttering and repeating a word occasionally. With a final crack the noise stopped, and all that was left was a bloody mess of my hand and the shattered remains of what was a dirty but rather functioning pip-boy attached to my wrist. I swore I could still hear it. Softly in the back of my mind as I mindlessly walked back to camp.
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bounnostra · 5 years
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marigold O bamble O chapter two O re: execution
The second Gambit was starting to chastise them for forcing his wing to whatever punishment was coming, Bams had already committed herself to the worst case scenario. The exact one she'd been trying to hint at in her earlier neutral stance, no less, Pip's disappearance from the table bringing a pained cringe for certain- but not any kind of surprised blink. Even if being right tasted much more of annoyance than anything more satisfying. 
(Though using annoyance more suggested something much more petty for her views on this situation, in her eyes- and that perhaps settled worse in her heart.) 
Of course Bams hoped for it to be over quickly, whatever it was that was planned. Not that she had any belief in that particular hope, given the little monologue about proving a point she was reading inbetween Gambit's line of speech there, but it was an easier thought to sit with as the spectacle began; much like sitting on the idea that every second that passes is a second closer to being done for the day and going home.
But then, of course, well.
All that happens.
And for a good few moments after it was all over, after whatever remains of Pip and Ivey were deposited back into their chairs, all that could be heard in Bams' head was ringing, droning on and on and multiplying over and over on itself to insufferable levels of volume, banging on with such intensity her temples threatened to physically respond- at least until the typical thought breaks its way through:
That looks like it hurt. 
...
...........
No, dipshit. That absolutely did hurt. 
If it were any other time, any other place, any other sequence of events, the moment everything mentally clicked into place would be refreshing; like splashing her face with a small gesture of cold water. 
As it stood though, it was more like rapidly plummeting into the depths herself. 
From what some of the group knew of Bams so far, in all her caution to actually do something that didn't have several layers of overthinking attached, the sudden movement may have caused some whiplash. But in a moment that seemed to return time to normal for her her hands were forcing her away from the table, wordlessly responding to Orwell's statement by performing the best sprint she could over to Ivey - the casualty directly opposite her at their stupid trial table, the first one to be directly in her sight and challenging her to do something, no matter what else she was currently thinking. 
Because even with a chance that none of her effort here and now would end up mattering when all was said and done, wasn't it all about trying anyway?
(Whatever other thoughts surely would only hinder, after all, so might as well ride the wave while it was cresting.) 
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More headcannons
•Theo and Philip are crushing h a r d on each other.
•Their siblings know this, and have a tendency to schedule play dates for them. (Pip hates when they call it a play date)
•And Philip is shell shocked because of this.
• “W-Wait your NOT?!” “Nope! But are you?” “U-Uuuuum-“
•He is.
•Theo tells everyone.
•”I knew this already.” “That’s because he’s your brother, dipshit!” “Thomas please don’t insult Alex like that. Even though he was stating the obvious.” “Sorry Jem.” “Back on topic! Philip’s ticklish and I am SO getting my well deserved revenge!” “Same! Also, Why do you think he keeps going after you, Amour?” “It’s only when Herc’s being
cocky tho” “True” “He’s barely got me. Probably because Theo’s why sister and would most definitely go after him”
•They form a plan and all have a sleepover at Alex’s.
•Pip gets suspicious because Alex has Jefferson over and he HATES him.
•So he walks into the living room and they all turn to him with creep grins.
•”Oh h-heck.”
•He books it out of there after a second of standing there.
•They after him.
•And lets just say, Pip thinks twice before attacking everyone in Alex���s friend group.
•And he’s now pretty terrified of Theo.
•Hercules and Burr are trans.
•Almost everybody knows about Burr. But only two people know about Herc.
•James Madison( his cousin), And Laf.
•Laf found out when he heard Herc calling for help when he was over his house.
•Turns out he got stuck in his binder.
•Lafayette started full on cackling.
•Not at Herc being trans. It was because Herc had somehow gotten stuck.
•He’s done an amazing job so far.
•Thomas lets Maria Reynolds do his hair.
•Belive it or not their best friends.
•Not as long as him and James but for a pretty long time.
•Maria is dating Eliza.
•Her sisters a fully supportive! So is their father.
•But Maria’s older brother, James Reynolds, has a different opinion.
•So he kicks her out of their house.
•So she goes and lives with the Schuylers.
•Thomas sings in the bath/and or/ shower.
•Since him and James live together- (Along with Lafayette. James’ parents where abusive so he’s staying with Thomas and Laf’s folks)
•James has the pleasure of hearing Thomas sing.
•He sings the rubber ducky song like a boss.
•James has yet to tell Thomas he hears him.
•Sometimes Thomas’ll Sing a sadder song if he’s in a bad mood.
•And James cuddles with him afterwards to make him feel better.
•Burr is called “burr-cub” by the squad.
•Mainly because he’s small, sometimes angry, acts mean and uptight at times but is actually sweet as honey.
•He hates them for this. Mainly because it flusteres him.
•Theodosia (Older one) finds it adorable.
•”*Signing* Thats so sweet of them!” “No it’s not-! It’s embarrassing..”
•But he cant hate them forever. They are like a family to him. An annoying, loud, and obnoxious one.
•But still, Family.
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patchofhope · 2 years
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fucking screaming and crying im playing MC eteranl and a wholeass dragon barges through my coolass wizard tower and fucking kills almost all my pets it fucking KILLED SAMANDRIEL IM FUCKIGN PISSED. I RAISED THAT COCKATRICE FROM A CHICK AS WELL AS EVERY OTHER ONE. also killed my horse. and my hippogryph. and like all but 2 of my cockatrices. the survivors? Anna and Eileen the cockatrices Gooplord the III and Ratmantha the rats. 2 of the dipshit pixies i randomly grabbed and the DOG named after LUCIFER who was noticably MISSING DURING THE ATTACK -squint- rip in pip my fallen comrades ill remember you always
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sorrelchestnut · 7 years
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EVERYBODY’S PICKIN’ UP ON THAT FELINE BEAT, PART 34
I was poking at this today with the intention of maybe getting another scene or two done and belatedly realized that I’d actually written more and, apparently, forgotten about it.  Whoops?
Part 1.  Part 2.  Part 3.  Part 4.  Part 5.  Part 6.  Part 7.  Part 8.  Part 9.  Part 10.  Part 11. Part 12.  Part 13.  Part 14.  Part 15.  Part 16.  Part 17.  Part 18.  Part 19. Part 20.  Part 21.  Part 22. Part 23. Part 24. Part 25. Part 26.  Part 27. Part 28. Part 29. Part 30. Part 31. Part 32. Part 33.
Title: everybody’s picking up on that feline beat Author: Sorrel Fandom: Fallout 4 Rating: Mature Warnings: None Relationships: Deacon/Female Sole Survivor Series: Part 3 of everybody wants to be a cat
     After all that prep, Deacon’s prepared for a lot of things.  For coursers to spot their hiding spot, for the ghouls not to chase Cait and the other runner, for the ghouls to catch the runners, for the coursers to stay put instead of moving out to deal with the ghouls, for there to be a boatload of extra security inside, for the coursers to come back before they’re done…  Deacon’s a worst-case-scenario kinda guy, and something this ballsy is bound to leave a lot of holes.  Whisper’s plan is solid, but Deacon’s got contingencies on contingencies, a whole laundry list of if-then statements to make sure that whatever else might go wrong, at least he and Whisper will make it out with their skins intact.
  He wasn’t prepared for everything to go according to plan.
  “This is spooky,” he murmurs, shifting the chemist’s weight more squarely over his shoulders.  The chemist makes a faintly protesting noise, then falls silent again, as Hancock’s ‘State House Special’ works its magic.  “This feels way too easy.  Don’t you think that was too easy?”
  “Shut your pie hole,” Whisper hisses back.  She leans around the corner, glances down at her Pip-boy for life signs readings, and then jerks her chin, indicating that he should move forward.  “Are you trying to jinx us?”
  “Aww, Whisper, don’t tell me you’re superstitious?”
  “Don’t tell me you’re not.”
  He feels her presence behind him as much as hears it; she’s moving with her usual quiet grace, though it’s probably wasted by the way he’s blundering forward.  Deacon prides himself on keeping in shape about as well as the next forty-mumble guy with an active lifestyle, but hauling a dead weight around the Commonwealth streets is taking its toll.  The chemist was semi-conscious enough to stumble out with them, if not enough to figure out why he was being hauled out at all due speed by complete strangers, but eventually their knockout shot worked just a little too well.  Deacon gave up and started carrying him almost two blocks back.
  “We’re almost there,” Whisper says, trying to sound encouraging and mostly just sounding frustrated.  She’s not any happier about their slow pace than he is, but she needs her hands free to shoot in case someone catches up with them, so it’s not like she can do anything to help.  “Just another block.”
  “Sure thing, partner.”  Maybe he should have brought a cart.
  The blocky outline of the Plaza is a welcome sight, and Deacon picks up speed, gaze fixed the small square of lamplight spilling out of the front door.  Twenty more feet and then he can-
  The sound a magazine racking into place breaks through his exhausted trance.  “That’s close enough,” comes Hancock’s raspy voice.  “I don’t give a fuck what scam you’re running, you can just turn your happy asses back around and go back the way you came.”
  “Hancock, you dipshit, it’s us,” Whisper says, pushing past him until the light falls over her painted face.  “See?”
  Hancock squints at them, then lowers his shotgun, his mouth falling open in surprise.  “Liv?  ‘zat you?”
  “Questions later, move,” she says, with that very special Obedience or Death tone that Desdemona only wishes she could mimic, and Hancock complies almost instinctively, falling back and leaving the doorway blessedly clear.  Deacon staggers through and spills his burden gratefully to the floor inside, leaning over and bracing himself on his thighs to pant.
  “Fuck me, that guy could stand to lose a few pounds.”
  Hancock ignores him, peering uncomfortably close to his face until Deacon almost topples trying to lean over.  Undeterred, he only circles around to give Whisper the same treatment, only backing up when she bats irritatedly at his face.
  “Shit,” Hancock breathes.  “Damned if those scars don’t look real as hell.  How’d you pull this off?  Honest to god, I thought you were a raider, almost fuckin’ shot you til you said something.”
  Deacon recovers his breath enough enough to straighten, holding his hand out to Whisper.  Not looking over, she pulls a sack of caps out of her pocket and slaps it into his palm, scowling.
  “Told you,” he says.  “I’m just that good.”
  Her bitter look says she’s going to make him pay for that bit of smugness later.  “You just lost me ten caps,” she grumbles at Hancock.  “Aren’t ghouls supposed to have great night vision?”
  “Not with all that shit all over your face,” Hancock grumbles right back.  “What were you doing bettin’ on me in the first place?”
  Whisper shrugs and leans down to grab the chemist’s arm.  “Gotta make our fun somehow.  C’mon, help me get this guy upstairs.  He’s not going to be unconscious forever.”
~*~
  The stairs seem a lot less daunting with ghoul’s strength on their side, and Deacon happily falls back and lets Hancock and Whisper handle the transit while he detours into the side room to get the extra equipment.  When he catches up to them in their makeshift interrogation room, Hancock’s holding the guy upright while Whisper arranges him properly on the chair, glancing interrogatively over her shoulder at Deacon when she hears his footsteps in the doorway.
  He tosses her the cuffs, and she snaps them into place, followed by the wide leather straps at the shins and torso that will actually hold the guy into place.  At her nod, Hancock takes hold of his shoulders and tugs him hard from side to side, testing.  The chair doesn’t so much as twitch, the bolts securing it to the floor holding fast.
  “Don’t think he’s goin’ anywhere,” Hancock grunts, after a moment, and lets go.  The chemist sags in his bonds, and Hancock steps back, brushing his hands together to dust them off.  “You sure you don’t want me to stick around?  What if those coursers track you down?”
  “Then here is the last place you should be,” Deacon says, gently but firmly, before Whisper can answer.  "Right now, we’ve got no reason to think they’re moving on Goodneighbor just yet, but that could change if the Institute figures out you were part of this little operation.”
  Hancock glances at Whisper, who nods.  “You’ve got a responsibility to your people first,” she says.  “You already went above and beyond on this, okay?  We couldn’t have done it without you.”
  Not exactly true; they’ve hit harder targets, though usually with a bit more time to prepare.  Still, Deacon’s never made a habit of getting in Whisper’s way when she’s working her magic, and the soft, pleased look on Hancock’s face says it’s working just fine.
  “Yeah, well, can’t say it wasn’t fun,” Hancock says, only a little gruffly.  “It was one hell of a last time, Liv.”
  Whisper’s face softens.  “Guess it was,” she says, and exchanges a quick look with Deacon, strangely hesitant.  He nods toward the door, and she smiles, straightening out of her crouch and threading her arm through Hancock’s elbow.  “C’mon.  I’ll walk you out.”
  Deacon doesn't let himself listen in to the fading blur of their voices as they retreat down the hall; he's had enough of eavesdropping for one day, thanks, and this time, at least, he's pretty sure Whisper would expect him to listen in.  He's already seen the most interesting parts of her and Hancock, and besides—it's not the things she wants him to hear that he needs to figure out.  It's all the rest.
  Getting the cuffs wired up takes all of his attention, anyway.  Whatever the fuck Hancock put in the knockout juice worked a treat, but the guy's gotta come around at some point, and it'd sort of defeat the purpose if they didn't have everything up and running first.  Deacon's not what you'd call a mechanical genius, but he's used them before, even back with Tinker's earliest iterations, which had a nasty habit of shocking the shit out of you if you let touched the wrong ends.  Carrington's tweaks have made them considerably more user-friendly (and idiot-proof, as the good doctor complained more than once, after some of the more… spectacular of the early failures) but usually Deacon's wiring the damn things to, y'know, an actual terminal.  Not a Pip-Boy.  Which is not meant to be wired to anything but a friggin' vault door.  Not the most compatible input ever.
  He's almost done when the first groans of returning conscious sound from the chair behind him.  He eyes the unfinished connection, curses under his breath, and shoves the last cable into the converter with more speed than caution.  Slaps the power button, and prays.
  There's an ominous pause, and then the Pip-Boy screen flashes a familiar cheerful startup sequence.  Deacon lets out a slow breath that turns into a choked laugh as a moment later, a tiny green caveman chases a tiny green astronaut across the screen.
  So the Doc's got a sense of humor after all, Deacon thinks.  And here I thought he'd had it surgically removed sometime back in the seventies.
  "Unnh."  The moan comes from the chair behind him.  "Whuh- where am I?"
  Showtime, Deacon thinks, and rolls to his feet.
  "Hey-hey, you're awake."  They hadn't really run their play in advance—when do they ever?—but the jittery spill of words comes to his tongue as easy as breathing.  Whisper’s better at quiet intimidation, when it comes to that.  Deacon’s at his best when you give him a chance to ramble.  "He-ey-ey, little man, how you feelin'?  That night-night juice hit you pretty hard, yeah?"
  "The- wha?"
  “The night-night juice, little man, the rockout knockout.  Y’know, the good stuff.”  He circles the chair, too fast for the chemist to catch a look at his face, and goes to the other corner of the room.  It forces the chemist to twist around if he wants to keep an eye on him, which he does, letting him feel his bonds for the first time.  When Deacon comes back with a chair of his own, his eyes are wide with the hazy beginnings of panic.
  “What- what’s going on?”
  Deacon slaps the chair down in front of him and straddles it backwards, heels bouncing with an overflow of energy that translates into the tapping of his fingers, the slight twitch in his cheeks and the fast, too-frequent blink.  Jet jitters, which is something no pampered Institute scientist should recognize.  But this guy, Deacon can see it in his eyes.  This guy recognizes it just fine.
  And it’s not just the jitters that the chemist is seeing, but Deacon’s face, clearly in his line of sight for the first time.  The lazy smears of grease paint, the reddened eyes, the needle-marked cheeks: all the things that mark him a raider, and maybe it wouldn’t take a waster to recognize him as a danger, but only a waster would react with such visceral fear.  Only a waster would know, as this guy clearly knows, just how truly and deeply screwed he actually is.  Institute agents are more arrogant than that; they’d look around at the blood-spattered walls, the meat hooks with their grisly prizes dangling from the ceilings, and they’d look at Deacon’s jet-addled face and think, they’re only savages, I can manage this.  It’s the Institute way.  They can’t quite seem to help themselves.
  But it seems like they’re not actually dealing with an Institute agent, or at least not a homegrown one.  No, this boy’s a local.  Which means that a) Whisper owes him another ten caps, and b) they’ve got an in.
  “See, it goes down like-”  Deacon mimes a diving bird with his hands, and the chemist’s eyes follow it helplessly before snapping back to his face.  “Little birdie says, new player in town, right?  And Boss is all like, naw, man, no way, nobody’d push in on our turf, right-right?  Only birdie says yeah, new player, sellin’ big.  And Boss, Boss is tops, yeah, Boss don’t take that from nobody, and Boss figures, better find out who, yeah?  Have a little talk.  Maybe the new guy don’t know how business is run, right-right?  Nice thing to do, explaining.  Good neighbors.”
  Deacon pauses expectantly, grinning at his own joke, and the chemist nods back, a little frantic, trying to hide it.  Deacon rewards him with a bigger grin, the better to show the blackened teeth and greying gums.  It’d taken him twenty minutes just to do the mouth, earlier; it’d be a shame not to show it off.
  “So when outside guards went chasing ghouls, Boss-”  This time his gesture is more like a darting fish, all smooth and graceful.  “Only nobody figured on chrome dome types, yeah?  So Boss got to thinking, maybe we need to talk about something else, yeah?  Maybe we talk about why chrome domes are in our town.  Not good neighbours.”  Deacon sits back in his chair and spread his hands in a shrug.  “So.  Here you are.”
  The chemist swallows hard.  “Y-yeah.  Here I am.”
  Deacon gives him an empty smile.  “So.  We gonna talk?  You gonna tell us what we need?”
  The chemist shifts, not like he’s testing his bonds, exactly, more like he’s reminding himself they’re there.  “I’ll, uh.  I’ll certainly try.”
  “Well now, friend, that’s mighty appreciated.”  Whisper’s lazy drawl comes from the doorway, and the chemist flinches at her soundless approach, his eyes rolling wildly in her direction.  The way his chair is angled, he can’t really see more than her basic outline, but Whisper obligingly closes in, lounging hipshot against counter a few feet to Deacon’s left and giving the chemist a clear view of her face.  From the way he goes pale, it’s not the most reassuring sight.
  Deacon two, civvies zero.  Am I good, or am I good?
  Deacon lets real happiness leak into his grin when he twists around to look up at her, knowing that it just looks macabre from underneath all the grease paint.  "Hey-hey, boss lady."  He lets his eyes trawl up and down her frame, obvious enough even the chemist will notice, and has to suppress a very timing-inappropriate giggle when he notices that her lazily-slicked up raider's mohawk is starting to list sideways a little.  She doesn't have a lot of extra hair to hold, but the grease they had on hand isn't doing so hot in the late September heat.  "This is Boss," he explains needlessly to the chemist, with the cheerful, earnest tones of a child.  "Boss is tops."
  "Well, I try."  Whisper has to shift to be able to fold her arms over her chest—the only coat she managed to scrounge up quite in her size had some fairly substantial armor pieces pre-attached, as it were, and he knows it's fucking up her sense of balance—but she manages to make the gesture look graceful, purposeful.  All of the spiky bits sticking off of her probably don't hurt, either.  "What's our new friend here think, huh?  Does he think I'm the tops?"
  The chemist looks, for a moment, so completely out to sea that Deacon almost starts laughing and ruins the entire thing.  "Uhm-"
  "She's just joshin' ya, man," Deacon tells him.  "Boss is like that.  Boss likes her jokes."
  Whisper smiles thinly at the chemist, when his nervous glance darts to her.  "I'm a funny gal," Whisper says, her voice as flat and cold as death itself.  The chemist's breath starts coming in faster.  "You can ask anyone."
  Deacon watches the wavering green line on Whisper's Pip-boy stutter and blink before settling into something like steady, and smiles inwardly to himself.  They've taken him all the way from unconscious to near full-blown panic, which means that they've got their baseline.  Now the real fun can start.
  He lets one hand drop to his knee and starts drumming his fingers.  "Ask him, Boss," Deacon says.  "Ask him about the tin men."
  "Yeah, that is a good question."  Whisper cocks her head.  "We thought you all were just some kinda small-time joint, trying to muscle in on our territory.  Your product was good, so we figured we'd take you if we could, make you cook for us instead.  Only your men weren't Gunners, or mercs, or good old-fashioned bully boys like my man, here."  (Deacon grins obligingly.)  "You were there with a bunch of synths, and that makes you Institute."
  "No!" the chemist blurts.  "No, I'd never-  They came to me.  I didn't have any choice."
  "They do that," Whisper nods.  There's sympathy on her pretty face, under the heavy black of the grease paint.  It almost looks grotesque.  "Almost left you there—not lookin' to tangle with no tin men—but we need a good cook.  Last one liked his own product too much."
  The chemist straightens slightly in his bonds, his chin going up a little.  "Yeah?" he says, and Deacon can see it, then- the tiniest shadow of calculation.  Not Institute arrogance, if he had to guess, but something not far off.  Something that says, I'm smarter than they are, and they need me, like they've given him some kind of opening and now the situation's his to manage.  "You're in luck, then.  I'm the best damned chemist in the Commonwealth."
  And that's how they got you, Deacon thinks, only a little sadly.  He can't blame the man for it.  Everyone's got their soft spots, their buttons to push and levers to pull, if you know where to look.  He's seen dozens of men just like this guy fall because they're just smart enough to be useful without enough savvy to know when they're outmatched, and the Institute takes them, and uses them, and then throws them away, and they never figure out where the hell they went wrong.
  "Only one problem, though."  Whisper picks idly at one thumbnail.  "How do I know this isn't some trick?  You hear it all the time, people workin' with the Institute.  I let you out of that chair, maybe you just bide your time, call the chrome domes down on us while we're sleepin'."
  "No!  No, I wouldn't.  I never want to see those things again.  I'd do anything."
  Honest, Deacon thinks.  Probably a little more honest than the guy really meant to be, judging by the way he reels himself back as soon as the words are out of his mouth.  He flattens his palm against his thigh, letting his gaze slide ways towards Whisper.  Bring it home, partner.
  "Anything, huh?"  She uncrosses her arms, leans forward with her palms braced on her knees.  "Gotta admit, I like the sound of that."
  "Yeah?" the chemist says, shaky underneath his best attempt at bravado, and for the first time, Deacon realizes that he's younger than they thought.  Not much older than Deacon was when he fell in with the Railroad, probably.  "I mean- yeah.  Of course you do.  I'm the best you're going to get."
  "That's as may be, kid," and Deacon knows Whisper saw the same thing he did, from the way her voice gets a little rougher.  Fighting the surge of sympathy.  "But I gotta know for sure that this was a rescue job, not a, whaddaya call 'em, Trogan things."
  "Trojan Horse?"
  "Yeah, sure," and she shrugs away the correction.  "I need to be sure, you get me?  I take care of my people."
  The chemist tries out a smile.  "Good thing, if I'm going to be one of them."
  "Which means," Whisper continues, as if he hadn't spoken, "that you're gonna tell me how you got stuck with those chrome domes.  Every damn thing, and if I think you're leaving anything out-"  She leaves the threat unfinished, and the chemist goes pale again, some of his cockiness leaking away.
  "I won't," he promises, and then he swallows hard and looks back to her.  "What do you want to know?"
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