Fuck heights. Fuck ledges he’s supposed to jump off of. And fuck his heart which is pounding in his chest like it’s going to explode because he’s gotta jump if he’s going to go back home and he’ll never forgive himself if he doesn’t go because he’s too much a coward to make the leap.
He closes his eyes tightly and tries to lie to himself that he’s just jumping off a rock and the ground is totally just two feet down, no big. He can’t fool himself, but he manages to jump anyway.
Never before has he been so relieved to feel the weird push-pull of the Ingress. It sure beats the splat he was half expecting. Salty sea wind chills his cheeks; mold and rot assault his nose. Even before he looks, he knows he’s home.
Under his sunglasses, his eyes open. Home indeed, more than he expected or wanted. University Point is in ruins now, the settlement he remembered from his youth destroyed a few years back. And is unfortunately far away from the routes the Railroad uses.
“Crap.” He takes a deep breath. “I need to find a mailbox and this is seriously not the place for it.”
B. Safe As Houses
The second jump is better than the first. He appears near Diamond City, instead of in the ass end of nowhere like he did the first time. A quick check at a dead drop gives him a mission. One of the safehouses has been out of contact with HQ for three weeks and someone needs to do some recon. It’s the sort of thing he can do quietly, write a quick report, and stick it in a dead drop for HQ before the Ingress pulls him back.
C. The Glowing Sea
This isn’t a place he’s been before, but the green mist clinging to the landscape is a dead giveaway. Emphasis on the “dead.” He can almost feel his genes being mutilated by rads as he speaks.
“We should get out of here. Like, now.”
D. Memory and Memorial
The vast basement room that stored the museum collections is dimly lit. Storage shelves that held priceless artifacts are tipped over and broken, three thousand year old vases shattered. Skeletons lie here and there, weapons clutched in their fleshless fingers. They died fighting.
Deacon is silent for a long time. He swallows once.
“Wow, this is even messier than my room.” The joke comes out flat.
Deacon | Fallout 4 | OTA (prose or bracket style equally welcome)
Fuck heights. Fuck ledges he’s supposed to jump off of. And fuck his heart which is pounding in his chest like it’s going to explode because he’s gotta jump if he’s going to go back home and he’ll never forgive himself if he doesn’t go because he’s too much a coward to make the leap.
He closes his eyes tightly and tries to lie to himself that he’s just jumping off a rock and the ground is totally just two feet down, no big. He can’t fool himself, but he manages to jump anyway.
Never before has he been so relieved to feel the weird push-pull of the Ingress. It sure beats the splat he was half expecting. Salty sea wind chills his cheeks; mold and rot assault his nose. Even before he looks, he knows he’s home.
Under his sunglasses, his eyes open. Home indeed, more than he expected or wanted. University Point is in ruins now, the settlement he remembered from his youth destroyed a few years back. And is unfortunately far away from the routes the Railroad uses.
“Crap.” He takes a deep breath. “I need to find a mailbox and this is seriously not the place for it.”
B. Safe As Houses
The second jump is better than the first. He appears near Diamond City, instead of in the ass end of nowhere like he did the first time. A quick check at a dead drop gives him a mission. One of the safehouses has been out of contact with HQ for three weeks and someone needs to do some recon. It’s the sort of thing he can do quietly, write a quick report, and stick it in a dead drop for HQ before the Ingress pulls him back.
C. The Glowing Sea
This isn’t a place he’s been before, but the green mist clinging to the landscape is a dead giveaway. Emphasis on the “dead.” He can almost feel his genes being mutilated by rads as he speaks.
“We should get out of here. Like, now.”
D. Memory and Memorial
The vast basement room that stored the museum collections is dimly lit. Storage shelves that held priceless artifacts are tipped over and broken, three thousand year old vases shattered. Skeletons lie here and there, weapons clutched in their fleshless fingers. They died fighting.
Deacon is silent for a long time. He swallows once.
“Wow, this is even messier than my room.” The joke comes out flat.
E. Anything you want!