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"Look in...to the eye of the storm Look out...for the force without form Look around...at the sight and the sound Look in look out look around..." Force Ten- Rush
Here’s some Ahn art by @delborovic which started out in my head as some chill and laid back idea and took a sharp left turn into “What if This?” based on some chatter me and @notactuallyaduck had one night, over a letter Royce sends to Ahn sometime after she leaves Nuka world.
After i saw the sketches I wrote a little blurb, which @radiationgroove fixed all my mistakes. The letter itself was written by Duckie aaaay.
The envelope is handed to her, first as a tap to her shoulder then as a gentle slap to her face.
“Will you take the damn letter, Ahn?” Her brothers voice is tired and she simply looks up at him, hands occupied with a pistol.
She’s eye level with her name; it's written in legible letters and she hates how much she likes it. When Jace speaks again it breaks her train of thought. She's focused on the letter, taking it and leaving grease covered prints along the corners.
“Feels heavy.” It wasn't, and Ahn gives him a pointed stare. “I was told that you need to open it.”
“I will. When you leave” She turns it over in her hand: nothing written on the back, sealed shut and untampered with.
“Not until you open it. Must have cost a fortune”
She taps it on one side, sliding the contents before ripping the side. A single sheet of paper, folded perfectly; she expected nothing less. She expected a fair amount of words, well-thought out and pointed reasoning along with the grand understanding of ‘why’.
“You can go now, I opened it.”
“What's it say?” Jace leans forward, making a reach for the letter; he’s nosy. He wants to know and Ahn slaps her hand down on top of it.
“You can go away now, Jace.”
The letter sits heavy in Ahn's mouth, like stale funnel cake with too much powdered sugar and too syrupy Nuka Cola. She finds a simple fix: a bottle given to her...or found, she doesn't quite remember. A full glass of warm liquor, she tips the chipped glass back finishing off what she poured.
It doesn't help.
She sits heavy, too much weight on an old chair that threatens one more time and I'll break, kicking her legs up onto the table in a manner that brings more thoughts to the forefront.
One bottle gone. Another opened and she pours another glass as she flattens the sheet of paper on the table with her other hand. There's no tone in letters; words are funny little things. The warmth in her chest is burning, blurring what she sees and she can hear the blood rushing in her ears.
Aliana,
Likewise.
Sincerely,
Royce Martin
She lets it sit, mulling over a single fucking word. Lighting the cigarette she pulls mindlessly to her mouth, automatic, a deep breath in and then out. Tossing the little metal box onto the table rougher then she intends to, listening to it clatter and clink against something off to the side.
Intention comes when she picks up the letter, that one word that could mean ten thousand different things, and lights the corner of it with the cherry of her cigarette.
She watches the flame start small, turning the Nuka World logo into nothing but ash. When it edges closer to her name, not the bastardization of it, she puts the fire out.
She folds the paper up, awkwardly shaped and brunt, the way he sent it. She'll put it in the book, next to the snapshot from God knows when and the stolen guitar pick.
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A tiny little thing because Gutter Rat [ @notactuallyaduck ] finds endless ways to annoy Ahn. thank you @radiationgroove for editing and making sense of my mess.<3333
Quiet days don't exist, not in Nuka World or its outskirts. There are days when Ahn holes up in her “home,” if it could be called that, away from the raiders, the smell and the chaos of it. The park itself reminds Ahn too much of what she left behind.
She hunts on these days; brahmiluffs, gazelles, and the other various creatures are all fine game, good caps in her pocket from the lazy bastards who can't do it themselves and damn good caps for the good cuts from the boss himself.
She converted the garage of the old Red Rocket to her work station. Big enough to house two cars for repair pre-war, Ahn moved the sturdy counter from inside of the building to the open room as her work table. She didn't need to haul water back and forth as often thanks to the drain built for chemical runoff. She'd slaughter and drain her catches with the knowledge of not needing to dump buckets to clean up.
With her tools laid before her, Ahn began to cut into the flesh, separating the two heads from its body and casually tossing it off out of the way. Twenty minutes in she felt something hit the back of her head and gently stick to her neck where the precise incision and staple scars began.
“I will feed you to Royce myself, Rat.” Ahn continues to cut, using the implanted nail blades to separate bone from muscle.
Two more magnets hit her back, and Rat curses. It's a game to them.
Ahn's head is 5 points just by hitting it and getting it to stick alone, working down from that anything past her belt line is disqualified; they never stuck.
Redeye found it amusing to play once, till Ahn turned to throw a kidney at his head. He still found it amusing. His score was 56.
Rat however took it to a whole new level, finding every damn magnet they could find.
Their score was 125.
Double points are granted if two magnets land on top of eachother, and Rat has been determined since the day Redeye did it.
Ahn does her best to keep her form, taking her aggressions out on the dead animals leg. She leans her weight onto the thick joint to break it free from the body, all the while being assaulted with magnets.
“You little shitheaded brat, I will choke you.” The words are foreign and Ahn points her knife at the white haired individual, bloody and sharp.
Rat just throws a magnet which sticks to the blade.
Ahns’ lips twitch trying to not show amusement; if she does it will only fuel the little fucker even more.
30-Day OTP Challenge! Leilani & Drummer boy, day 2.
Day Two, Realization: The first time a member of your OTP (or both members!) realized they had feelings for the other.
Adventures with Lani and Drummer end with Lani helping a dying raider not die because she wants to do good in the world, leaves drum speechless and in awe of it because there’s 1000 ways for it to backfire.
Mini dabble. @radiationgroove for fixing mistakes and helping me think about this
–
“Sooo, he paid you,” Drummer Boy’s tone was curious, skeptical even, “to have dinner and to talk?”
“Yeah, I would have done it for no caps but he insisted on it.” Leilani ducked into a open window, Drummer not far behind her. “He was 82, kept telling me I’d need them more than he did.”
Lani had a soft spot for older people, even more for prewar ghouls. The older generation, the few and far between, looked like a candle wick burning to the end. Flickers of color that slowly seeped away one moment and returning the next. It was terrifying, but through it Lani talked with them, listened to whatever they wanted to talk about. She always learned something.
“You’re the only person I know who gets paid for listening,” the apartment they entered was small, its Murphy bed lopsided and ripped from the wall, cabinets moldy with their doors unhinged. Drummer was growing fond of the small woman’s short cuts; sure he knew the streets and alleyways of the Commonwealth, but from the rooftops he found a new world, one which Lani belonged to. “Normally it’s the other way around.”
“Well, it’s what I’m good at, Drum. Listening.” Lani squeezed past an old world refrigerator, turning her head to Drummer. “Take a note, you might end up rolling in caps like I do.”
“Ha! So you do have an ego.” once she was through he followed, exhaling to make it easier to move between the broken wall and refrigerator. “Tato, seriously you godda remember I’m not as small as you..aw fuck I think my jacket ripped.”
They made their way into the next apartment, starting search for anything useful, shoving them into their bags trading stories of the things they’ve seen and done. Time ticks away, and neither of them care. There’s a comfortable feeling to it all, wandering and scavenging feels right.
With their bags full of supplies, they look for a different exit than the one they came through, content with what they found.
“Dominic, he came up with the idea, Luka and I just went along with it. Next thing you know we got the DC guards on our asses, when my mother saw the three of us sitting in that cell.” Drummer whistled, shaking his head in shame. “she left us there to learn something, when we got out she was livid. Pretty sure Bunker Hill could hear her.”
“Okay, but you did set some firecrackers off in the middle of the market. I’d leave you there too.”
“Nah, you’d bail me out.” Drum leaned forward, a grin spreading when Lani looked at him side eyed. “Yeah you’d bail me out, because you’re a good person.”
“Not if you pulled that stunt. Bar fight? Yeah, maybe. Setting explosives off in the middle of the market? Nope, you sit there and think.”
“Oh, but dropping lake slime on someone is totally cool, gotcha.” Below their feet rubble and papers shuffle, the groan of old wood echoes louder then their voices.
“Uh, yeah? It’s lake slime! It can’t hurt anyone, just feels weird.”
“Sure it can Lani, what if lake slime was alive? What if it was a lake monster?”
“Lake monsters don’t exis– you know what, no, you’re right. Lake monsters do exist and so does bigfoot. You can’t change my mind on that.”
“You’re only saying it exists because you want bigfoot to.” Drum walked on, looking away from Lani for a moment. “bigfoot doesn’t exist, cause I’ve never seen one.”
“That’s because you’re a city kid, bigfoot lives in the mountains and woods, trust me Drum, he’s real.”
“I’m a ‘city kid’? That’s biased don’t you think, only small tato’s get to see that glorious man beast.” They found a staircase and descended further down to an open decently intact hallway. “He really should start expanding, grow his enterprise. Maybe Dez would let him join up, ha! Imagine that Tato..Tato?”
Lani stood 5 feet away from him, hand held up and her eyes narrowed in concentration.
“What?” A harsh whisper, Drum moved towards her slowly to not make too much sound. “Feral?”
“Shh!” using her hands, she spoke to him. Sign language simplified because drummer was still learning.
‘Stay quiet. Heard something, not feral.’
Drummer nodded, pulling his pistol free from his waistband, loading the chamber. He knew how she felt about killing, he wouldn’t hesitate if whatever attacked her.
Lani turned to a door, pressing her palm flat against the worn wood pushing it open slowly. Drummer slid next to her, following the line of her sight. In the corner of the apartment was a raider, ripped clothes, ratty hair and misshapen armor.
“Lani we need to go,now before his friends get back.”
“They’re a not going to.” Lani stared at the slumped body, surrounded by Med-X, Mentats and Jet. Her eyes focused on them, one moment nothing and her stomach dropped, she hadn’t seen the void in months; it made her body hurt, the urge to cry far beyond her control. Through her teary eyed view there was a sudden blast of color, orange. Bright and fighting the slow fade.
“Lani, stop!” Drummer hissed through his teeth, reaching to pull her back. He was afraid, not because of the chemed out raider, but for the millions of ways he’d lose her.‘Stay quiet, please.’ Her mismatched gaze found silver-gray, lips never moving as she spoke to him. He watched almost helplessly as she moved to the raider.
“hHn?” They never stirred even as she kicked away the used chems and knelt. “‘ell yuh wan’…?”
“Hey, what’s your name?” Lani pulled free some supplies from her med pouch, two stims and liquid fixer. With an empty syringe she loaded up the fixer, setting it onto her sterilized sheet from her kit. “I’m Leilani.. And the next few hours are going to suck..”
“.. Mmm… Noah.” He didn’t resist her hands on his arm nor the tourniquet tied around his bicep. “Who’s he?”
“My friend. Noah, was this everything you took? What’s surrounding you?” Lani stuck him in the thigh with one stim, sticking the other into his upper arm. “Because I know psycho and fixer is a nasty mix.”
“Nah, no psycho… jus’ this shit. Yer friends lookin’…at me,” Lani looked for the vein in his arm, he’d have a massive hangover, but fixer would help him fight it. “Like wants to kill me..”
“He’s just worried you’re going to hurt us, but you won’t.” Untying the tourniquet, lani slowly worked the chem into this raiders blood stream. “Noah, could I say something?”
“Mmhm.”
Lani tilted the raiders face up meeting the half lidded gaze with her own.
“Quit it with this stupid shit, yeah?” He nodded in her hand. “Find a settlement, join the Minutemen.. Do something good with yourself, you’re capable of it.”
“Mmhm.”
“Think of this as the last chance you’ll get. Quit this stupid shit.”
The raider nodded slow and heavy, drifting between sleep and awareness. He mumbled a thank you as Lani left behind a few stims, purified water, dried stag jerky, and a set of clean clothes.
–
They wandered the roof tops in silence, heavy and uncomfortable. Lani stopped, facing the runner in front of her now.
“Lani what the hell was that all about? Are you out of your mind?” The fear of too many possibilities tinted his words, every scenario worse than the last. “What if he was a trap? Goddamn, what if he was on psycho and he snapped?”
“He wasn’t and he wouldn’t have.”
“How do you know? What if you were wrong? Leilani, you-”
“I just knew okay?” Lani watched the shift and change to his color, oil on rough waves.
“How are you sure!? He’s a raider, his crew probably tried to kill us at some point. Why did you help him?”
“Do you remember being a kid Drummer? Like, when you were really little, two or three?”
“No, I don’t, because I was little. What’s that got to do with this?”
“I remember when I was, and sometimes people need a little kindness. I know I did.”
Drummer could only stare, in awe of this tiny woman before him. No one went out of their way in the wasteland, no one honestly helped for no reason because they wanted to and expected nothing in return.
But Leilani did, and like a mini nuke it hit him. He loved her because of it.
You meant Drummer and Lani, so here’s this. Finally got some damn thoughts in my head about it. Yeeeh buddy.Adeline belongs to @radiationgroove
Leilani needed something to do, something to occupy her mind and keep her hands busy. Adeline had spoke to her about the railroad, upon learning what Lani ‘saw’, told Lani she’d be a great asset. She had the makings of an agent.
For Lani, Deacon was a trial run, a way to prove what Adeline told him; Lani could sense most things a person could not. He chalked it up to being great at reading body language and dismissed the little woman. She’d never admit to the tiny sliver of pride she felt, proving the liar wrong.
And so, she was introduced to Desdemona. She was a tourist at first, given the odd jobs with Adeline - who she was trying to get used to calling charmer - they needed to get a feel for the little woman.
Glory coined the name “Tato”, a joke watching Lani grow flustered and red in the face. It stuck, the other agents greeting her as such when they saw her. Deacon found the nickname to be fitting for her, laughing he gave it his own spin one night as she drank with Hancock and Adeline. “well look at you, a rotten tay-dah.”
Even Desdemona addressed her as such, a rose eyebrow at the wastelander’s face.
“Carrington, can I help with anything?” Lani wanted to help, she found it interesting what the medic could do and she was sure she’d be able to learn if he showed her. She wasn’t half bad at stitching; a skill she learned early in life, making clothes for herself or closing up a small wound. There was no doubt in her mind how much more complex the craft was, and that drew her to it more.
“Go find Drummer boy. He’ll have something for you to do.” Carrington was a little gruff, worn thin and tired of doing so many things to keep HQ moving like a well oiled machine. Everyone was tired and worn thin and they all did their part to keep HQ as such.
“Are you sure? I could help you organize if you’d like…”
“I’ve got this handled, the offer is appreciated Tato, but I do not have the time to show you what I need done correctly. Drummer will have something for you.” There was a small tang of annoyance to Carrington’s voice, it traveled to Lani’s fingertips, a prick of a needle to her nerve endings.
“Okay.. Thanks. Have you seen him?” She received no answer from the older man, a defeated sigh as she left him be.
Lani found Drummer boy cleaning. What she had no clue, and had he not cursed out loud she’d never have found him. Over some chair his patched blue jacket sat and on the seat his cap. She’d talked to him a few times, small talk and easy greetings. mostly when Adeline needed to find a dead drop.
“Carrington said you may need help.” Her voice made him jump, and Lani stood frozen in place as she met his light grey eyes with her own mismatched. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Shit, knock next time, what if I had my dick out? Again.” the first time they met, was far more personal than she cared for. Her face was warm, lips pressed thin at the thought, and when he laughed it brought her back to reality. “Yeah Tato, grab some shirts and start folding. This’ll get done quicker that way.”
Lani nodded and found the dry pile of clothes, pulling a few shirts free and laying them flat on the table. This wasn’t exactly what she had in mind, but it kept her hands busy.
The silence of the room almost masked Travis Miles anxiety filled voice set someplace high and in a corner as they worked. Ten minutes, then fifteen. Finally it became too much.
“So.. You’re really from the Northwest Commonwealth?” Suddenly there was sounds again, her mind clicked on to them. Water in the old sink he was standing at, muffled voices of other agents past the brick wall in the next room. The whirr of a generator. Her own breathing.
“Yeah, what used to be Washington state. It was pretty damp and rainy, sometimes I miss it. You?” Lani folded three piles already, the fourth almost done.
“The great green jewel, family left a few years back heard some things about Nuka World. I didn’t want to go so I stuck around, joined the railroad not long after.” Drummer boy shook his hands of water and soap, finding a dry rag after draining the murky water “Haven’t heard from them since.”
“You worried about them?” The question made the edge of him strum, a quick vibration similar to that of a guitar string.
“Nah, they’re fine.” He did worry, probably since the moment they left. It felt like a knot between her shoulder blades, and he turned back around dropping a few more articles of clothing into the now empty sink.
“Your eyes real or did you pay to change them? When you’re done with that, help me ring these out.” He spoke over the sound of a running tap, adding detergent to the mix. How Drummer boy ended up doing everyone’s laundry was a mystery, maybe it was a rookie job he was good at.
“They’re real, I was born with it. People pay to change this?” Lani moved and stood next to him, 9 inches shorter, rolling her own sleeves up. “Why?”
“Ask Deacon, leave him out in the sun for too long and he’ll melt like plastic the same way jangles helmet does.” Lani picked up a pair of jeans, finding a spare coarse brush to work out whatever stains. “Why not? You could change your face to whatever you want. You could look like Glory if you wanted to, not that you need to change your face.”
“Huh? What do you mean by that?” Drummer side eyed Lani, a small grin on his face.
“You’ve got a cute face, no need to change it is what I meant. What was it like back home?”
“O-oh..” It really didn’t take much to make Lani red and sure she was told she was cute from time to time, but the way Drummer said it was different. It left her content in a way. “Rainy, damp and sorta cold. We still had some sunny warm days, good for supply runs to the other side of camp.”
“Sounds miserable, is that why you ended up here?”
“No, I didn’t like it anymore. Home that is. Too many people expected different things from me.” Lani shrugged, hands full of wet clothes and a soapy brush.
“And we’re different how? You do know Dez is going to expect shit from you. ”
“Yes, but it’s within my ability what she expects from me. I can do it.” One of Drummer’s eyebrows rose, hands scrubbing away. “less guard patrol and more listen and gather.”
“Oh. So you’re in this to become a tiny spy. How cute.” His laugh was warm, it settled on her shoulders, upper back and her throat. A scarf left out in the sun.
“No, I really want to help! everyone here and.. Everyone out there. The wasteland *sucks*, and I’ve seen a good chunk of it. I just want things to be.. Nice.”
“How sweet of you.” there was a teasing tone to what he said, peppered with a small laugh.
“Hey, don’t be a jerk. It’s a good goal to have!” she stopped moving her hands, her gaze focused on Drummer boy’s face. “And you’re one to talk, you’re here working to reach the same thing as I am.”
“You don’t know that.” Lani felt the weight of those words, a reminder that she really didn’t. She wanted to know however.
“Why are you here then?” it was a simple question, and Drummer’s grin grew.
“That’s a secret. But, I’ll tell you mine if you tell me one of yours.” smugness had a plastic feel, stretched over her skin and shifted.
“I.. Don’t have any secrets.” it was true, Lani had no secrets to share she was, and for a new agent it wasn’t the best of things, an open book.
“Bullshit Tato, you’ve got a secret. You know how I know?” Lani amused the runner with a look. “We all got secrets. Every single person has them, there’s no way in hell you don’t.”
“I don’t!”
“Oh come on Tato, tell me a secret. What, are you a cannibal? Do you paint with blood? Spit in someone’s food?”
“I mean it Drummer boy, I don’t have a secret!”
Frustration grew the more he asked, she couldn’t think of anything, there was no grand secrets to her. Until she looked *at* him, a half grin on his face as he worked a lather into the shirt he was cleaning. He had nice eyes and a sharp face, but what she found she liked most of all was his voice. Rich and charming, a new sound that made colors spark. Greens and earthy colors drew more vibrant when she focused on it. like hell she’d ever say what she was about to sign out loud.
With grace she spoke, silently with quick nimble hands, something so natural to her it made her smile to watch confusion form on the taller man’s face. It was the only time she could see her own edge, it shifted like oil on water when her hands moved.
She pointed to herself, heading into a bent hand at her chest, a flat hand moved down to something similar to karate chop gliding over a large bump followed by her index finger bent, touching the corner of her mouth to her temple.
“Hey, that’s not fair, come on now..” his brow furrowed and Drummer Boy forgot entirely about the shirt in his hands.
“it’s very fair Drummer boy, you never told me how I was supposed to answer.” Lani grabbed a pair of jeans, who’s they were didn’t matter. She couldn’t stop smiling.
