#steelsworn

he is perf for cuddles ok how dare

              {Tristan often makes little roses from the scrap metal that he can’t use for anything else. 

                            Dark had long since fallen when James returned to the Castle. Everyone appeared to be asleep, save for the few guards he’d passed as he trudged up to his own quarters. Most nights, he’d been sleeping in the Institute. For obvious reasons, he preferred the amenities that it offered over the few that the wasteland could provide. Spending the night in his lonely room, surrounded purely by strangers hadn’t sounded alluring tonight, not after the day he’d had. Shaun was dying. James had only just found his son, but soon he’d be gone again. He’d be alone. His chest felt tight as he staggered into his bedroom, leaving the door open a crack behind him.

                       He slumped to the floor, ignoring the way his leg ached in protest. He stared blankly at the gold band on his left ring finger, reaching up to hurriedly brush away a few tears that had managed to escape from his eyes. Everyone’s gone. He bit back a sob at the thought, leaning his head forward onto his knees. During the day, when he was surrounded by other people, it was easy to pretend that everything was okay. He didn’t think about the fact that he’d never see Kate’s smile again; he’d never sing Shaun a tone-deaf lullaby to get him to fall back asleep. Every part of his life that mattered was gone.

“No that would be blood.”

He pauses his train of thought to pat some of the dirt off of himself before glancing at the absolute mess before him. It was the product of an unfortunate incident with raiders. Their decor was less than hazard free and it bit them in the ass this time.

He knits his brow, for a moment, disgusted by the odor despite the fact that he should be used to it by now. He didn’t exactly love the aftermath of fights like this, but they were as they were. There wasn’t any changing the nature of such brutal death, especially not in the Commonwealth, so most of the time he was prone to simply gritting his teeth and dealing with it.

“A not so happy ending for some not so friendly people I’m afraid.”

“No... no. I know that’s not it.” There was a crack in the performer’s otherwise flawless act, a waver in their voice that betrayed true, genuine terror at the thought of fire. 

If not gasoline, something. A chem lab left unattended, a weapon or weapons that were far too flammable to be safe, a thousand other options listed off in their head, all of them leading to the same, sickening conclusion.

They look over to their companion, the half of their face disfigured by burns turned towards him.

          “Indeed, I have. It might as well be be my warnin’ label,” he chuckled before leaning back in his chair. Dean watched the man pull a cigarette out before patting his own pocket, feeling the pack smash flat against his chest. He was out and had been for a while. The empty case kept out of habit more than anything else. He balanced himself on the back two legs, reaching up to scratch the side of his face.

      ‘ Alright, what the fuck is this about ? ? ? ‘

Crow always had a knack for catching people’s attention. It was possible that the spotlight just simply like his company, or maybe he just had the bad habit of ruffling the feathers of passers by. Either way though, strangers were always quick to take notice of him when he showed up somewhere new, and the people of the Boston Commonwealth did not seem like they were going to break that trend. The courier had only arrived just a few days prior, but there was already a buzz in the air and the number six on people’s lips.

It would seem that having been the man who overcame three armies, and who took the whole of mojave desert under his control, had earned that peculiar wanderer somewhat of a reputation, even that far out east. Whether that reputation of his was something good, or something to be feared, seemed to change from person to person though.

Upon arrival Crow did not come with any intent to start a war or to overthrow a city. The aging messenger simply wished to lend a hand to that struggling piece of the wasteland. So he searched for that opportunity, making his way to the famous green jewel of the Commonwealth, Diamond City. For his first visit he only had good things to say about the city, but he did not remain there for lon. As soon as he heard of the Minutemen and their need for generous souls he was quick to take his leave once again and make his way to the Castle. From there he was simply given the name of the soldier who he could accompany and aid on his mission.

After that only a handful of minutes slipped by before Crow found himself approaching the Mr. Lawson he had been pointed towards. The courier carried himself well, standing tall, surrounded by an air of confidence and excitement. When there was only a few feet between the two soldiers, the courier was quick to offer his hand and a bright smile to the other.

     it’s not like the man really needed his help. the guy is ex bos, he’s smart, cunning, built like a lean cat- pissy like one too. and the guy’s a hell of a shot, to boot. he can definitely handle himself against raiders and super mutants, easy. but that doesn’t mean keith isn’t going to hover around jamie and keep him company. especially not when it’s getting close to winter, and the rest of the world is starting to lock down resources for the long time of famine ahead. snow falls hard in the commonwealth, and people die without the luxuries of indoor heating and year-round supermarkets. 

     so, yeah, he helps. just enough to be useful, not enough to make himself stand out. he is still the mysterious stranger, after all. can’t let everyone know who he is. and after keith had popped in and out to take care of a few choice enemies shooting down jamie’s six, he bailed, returning back to the settlement at bunker hill before he could be missed. there he took off the hat, the coat, set his gun aside in his shoulder holster and came out to greet the minute men as they returned like everyone else. he’s just a drifter, bumming it hard, to jamie.