seen from Poland
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seen from United States
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seen from Chile
seen from Tunisia
seen from Indonesia
seen from United States
seen from Czechia
seen from United Arab Emirates
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♡
For every “♡” I get I’ll give a tip on how to win my muse’s heart.
(For the Ladies, specifically) Be able to kick ass and take names?? Laura loves ladies who can kick her ass. So much. Just look at her and Cait- hella. freaking. gay. Just saying. Gal, too. (Everyone knows Gal is badass)…
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@prizexfighter
Danny slid from the tangles of sheets, stifling a soft yawn as he glanced at the clock. It was early yet, the sun not even peeking out over the skyscrapers. The biker ran a hand through his shaggy hair, casting a glance back at the redhead he had spent one wild night with. He smirked, surprise any of them were able to get any sleep at all. Pulling on his boxers, he stood and stretched, wandering off to see if he could scrounge up some breakfast.
@prizexfighter
“Must have come from real far away to have an accent like that,” he commented as he adjusted the screws to her pipe pistol. Such awful-looking things, poor excuses for guns, really, but people of the Commonwealth seemed to love these makeshift peashooters for some reason or another.
“Is Ireland even still around? What brought you overseas?”
Closed RP with Prizexfighter
@prizexfighter
Par thought he might just make it to Goodneighbor this time. He’d been trekking the wastes for a full two hours, and had enjoyed the relatively fresh breeze upwind from the Glowing Sea. Over the next ridge, a pair of figures had caught his eye, one trailing far behind the other. He climbed a nearby hilltop and perched over a cluster of rocks as he unslung his rifle, scoping out whoever was approaching him.
He studied the view...and laughed. Snorted. Cleared his throat.
“I dunno which is the better target,” he yelled down. “You, lady, or the fuckin’ radscorpion creepin’ up behind you.”
@prizexfighter // said I was gonna do the thing
The bar in Sanctuary was barely more than a cramped, dinky hovel compared to even the Third Rail... but it would make do. He sat hunched over his drink and a comic book, attempting to tune out the rest of the world. This was his night off watch, after all; RJ planned on enjoying it.
--That hadn't included overhearing some fucking guy talking about what exactly he'd like to do to Cait, however. Maybe he was drunk, or maybe he was an asshole. Either way? MacCready was pissed. He stood quickly, the legs of his chair screeching against the floor. "Hey, you!" Rolling up his sleeves, the little brunet stalked over, glowering. "Yeah, you. Don't talk about my girl like that if you wanna continue to be able to talk at all."
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“Mademoiselle, are you sure that violence was the correct course of action? Perhaps instead of fighting we could have had a peaceful discussion with them instead?” The synth suggested, though she doubted next time there was a conflict that Cait would actually take her advice, still she was honestly concerned for the other woman as she tended to the bruised and bloody knuckles Cait had received in the altercation.
“I am not one for violence, Mademoiselle, but you held your own in a very impressive manner. I just wish you did not receive this in the process.” The wounds were cleaned with care, the damage wasn’t severe enough to be worth a stimpak and it allowed Curie to give a lecture of sorts as she tended to the Irish woman.
@prizexfighter
@prizexfighter // liked my starter call
They're out. Alone. Together, but alone. Their mutual friend had... insisted. Too dangerous to be anywhere completely alone, they said. Too dangerous my ass, he'd said back. They didn't appreciate that much.
And so here he was, his usual routine of changing his identity from place to place interrupted and pointless now that she wouldn't stop hitting on him. That's what she was doing, right? He wasn't just imagining things?
Deacon thinks he's too old for this nonsense. Which is saying something; nonsense is his second favorite thing, right under shenanigans.
"Betcha can't pick that one," he says, nodding to yet another safe in the long abandoned bank they'd set up in for the night. Cait had been practicing her lock-picking skills, which he thought were probably good enough she really didn't need to, but at least it was endlessly fascinating to watch. Every click of bobby-pin on tumbler went straight to his... heart. Honest.
@prizexfighter liked for a starter
“Those were the ones I was supposed to kill, right? I was kinda half listening when ya told me.”
