#takingindependence

"Jim got...six or seven out before he came back to help me...just whoever was close. There wasn't time to go round folks up, y'know?" Louisa looked up from the box of supplies and shook her head, "After they blew the overpass everything happened fast."

It felt strange. Talking about Quincy with someone other than Jim. Not bad, though, not good either. It wasn't as though it had just happened last week, but the memories were still very raw and painful if she lingered too long. And there were parts of the escape that she could not remember at all. Other parts were flashes and echoes, and felt like wisps of smoke if she tried to dwell on them on her own. Then there'd be a gunshot, or a loud bang from one of Jake's projects, and the wisps turned to shards of glass in her mind and everything was sharp and clear as if it was all happening again.

“Minutemen. Second time’s the charm, doll? Hey, maybe this time the rest of ‘em will come to the call, instead of pissing themselves and running in the other direction. 

“Thanks,” Starling offered a smile, “I think we’re alright at the moment, but that’s real kind of you.”

[Prompt]

Name: William “Billy” Ryker

Gender: Male

General Appearance: Short, dark brown hair; well kept beard; striking blue eyes

Personality: Compassionate; generous; confident. Billy is well-liked in the communities he frequents, known as a fair and level-headed individual with a charisma that tends to charm even the roughest of folk.

Special Talents: He is an excellent sharpshooter with a rifle and proficient at making explosives, much to most people’s surprise. His best talent is the gift of gab: he’s good at using his words to defuse situations and get information for his job.

Who they like better: Jane.

Who they take after more: Tommy.

Personal Headcanon: Billy started out as a member of the Minutemen and originally wanted to pursue a leadership role within the ranks. However, a turn of events (and learning of his father’s origins) led him to become a “detective” in the public eye - a Railroad Agent in the shadows. His passion has led to many recovered and rescued synths and non-synths alike: his mission being to reunite those lost or taken to their families, or introduce them to a new future.

Faceclaim: Chace Crawford

Louisa laughed at the exaggerated remark, and finished bandaging the woman’s leg. No bullet wounds were good of course, but this one could have been a lot worse. A ricochet had caught her in the shin during a little skirmish not far from the settlement. Nothing life threatening, but Starling and Slim had brought her back to be patched up none the less. 

“Well, you’re in luck then, ‘cause I’ve got one in the other room, and you’re more than welcome to it,” she tied off the ends of the bandage, and pushed herself up out of her chair. She stood uneasily for a moment, steading herself with one hand on the back of the chair, while the other grabbed the nearby crutch. Carefully she made her way down the short hallway, and disappeared into her room. Soon she reappeared with two bottles tucked under her arm. Once seated again, she opened the Nuka Cherry, and set it on the bedside table with a smile. The other, she opened for herself and took a quick gulp.

“Well, he ain’t gonna be mad for too much longer,” Matthew scoffed, taking aim at the wounded bloodbug twitching and squirming on the ground. Starling had shredded the wings on one side of it with buckshot, leaving it unable to fly.  He approached cautiously, and put a bullet through it’s head.

“Mine too,” Starling grumbled, glancing over at Jane, then turning to look at Grant, who was bringing up the rear. He looked as miserable and soaked as they did. She called to him, “Haven’t drowned yet have you?”

He looked at her briefly, then held up his middle finger and continued trudging along.