#mydearestfaraday

THE ISLAND made him tense, and it went strictly without saying that he was hardly a fan of DiMA but at least the mission of Arcadia was a good one. It was merely a sad truth that they, like much of the Commonwealth in a way, had been swallowed into a conflict they didn’t want to be a part of. Hands rest behind his back for a moment, the General and Detective Valentine discussing some business with DiMA & Kasumi Nakano as he strafes off to the side.

“I take it life here is...difficult?”

          It’s been nearly a week since the accident happened. He was foolish enough to get caught off-guard by gulpers, arm torned to shreds as both him and the dead gulper fell onto radiated mud. The wound was cleaned, but the radiation got it to first, infecting his arm to the point where the pain was unbearable and the gore was too much to look at. With the right tools and help, Faraday and Aster assisted Xavier with the amputation of said arm, having some troubles seeing as Xavier’s bones were alloy metal, but that could facilitate their next task.

          With Preston notified that Xavier would be staying in Far Harbor for another week and coming back with a ‘surprise’, Xavier went back to Acadia one more time. Faraday seemed to have everything ready. The schematics, at least.

@mydearestfaraday​ sent: “ i can stay, if you want. ”

There are days where being away from home is easier than others. Dorothy isn’t sure what she misses -- maybe it’s the familiarity. Maybe it’s her parents, or the cat that had snuck out of cloning that was her dearest friend.

Right now, it’s the light. It’s the quiet -- Far Harbor lacks both of these as they hole up in the midst of a heavy storm. She hides down below, where her radio is a little bit louder than rain on the roof and the thunder feels a little more farther away.

“I’d like that a whole lot,” she should be embarrassed, and she it, but huddled up under blankets and homesick, she’s feeling too much of so many things that makes it hard to really feel shame for her weakness. Dorothy’s voice is small, but she pats the open space beside her as a an acceptance of his offer and a request to not leave her alone.

【🔧】— “So yer th’ feller that keeps this place up n’ runnin’ huh?” The bounty hunter asked, turning away from the server tower connected to the wall to look at the approaching synth. 

“Not literally, but it sure as hell feels like it...”  Laura sighed as she ran her fingers through her hair, as though the mere jest would cause it to actually happen. 

“Are you sure you haven’t seen anyone like that around here?” He asked the man. Ever since he saw that woman from Far Harbor come by his workshop in Goodneighbor asking for the Memory Den, he couldn’t get her out of his head. She looked just like his sister, Rafaela. He had heard all sorts of talk about synths replacing people, and his sister did indeed attend CIT before the war. 

Par could feel an embarrassed warmth settle in his cheeks. He’d figured this building was vacant - too far from the rest of the trading post - but evidently he’d guessed wrong.

“Uh, sure.” He stepped a minimal distance into the room, reached for the folded-up clothes on a nearby table, and lobbed them over. Awkward as he felt, at least his aim hadn’t suffered from it.