#unicornu

“Imma head out,” Lucy called over her shoulder as Gage scrubbed his face off at the sink laid into the bar, a habit she wished he had developed in the actual restroom a little further into their shared quarters. He blinked at her as the soap suds ran down his chin and dripped onto the counter.

“Where ya going, boss?”

“I got some…. Things to drop off.” She gestured to the heavy sack she was resting at her feet before hefting it up again and boarding the lift. “Thought I might start closer to home, pop in to see Nisha and company for a minute.”

“Alone?” Gage pulled the bottom of his shirt up to dry his face, apparently forgetting to rinse but still giving the blonde a glorious view of the trail of hair that raced from beneath his pants to the sparse spattering over his chest. Lucy blushed and looked away, but couldn’t fully hide her grin.

“Well, if you want to come along--”

“Uh, nope. No. No thanks, boss.” Gage tugged his now wet shirt back down and placed his hands on his hips. “So what’s in the bag?”

“The object of your obsession,” Lucy teased as she placed it back at her feet and tapped the button to kick the lift to life. “Guess you’d best start asking the bosses what they got for Christmas if you really wanna know.”

“What about me?”

“You’re on the naughty list, remember?” Lucy laughed as the lift carried her down, hiding her view of Gage and giving her a growing view of the pond outside of the Fizztop grille.

Today was going to be a good day.

----

The first stop Lucy had made was to Nisha’s lair, wanting to hurry up and get it over with. After stashing the bag outside the door among some trash laying around, she snuck in the packages, using the dark and shadows to hide her movements the best she could and trying to shake the feeling of a million sets of eyes following her around on the way in and out. Whether or not she had actually been successful in her stealth she wasn’t too sure about, but at least she made it through without being stopped.

The Operators were next. Sneaking into Mags and William’s room was a little difficult, but a few caps slipped into the palms of a couple of bored looking recruits had a small brawl breaking out that gave Lucy just enough time to slip in and leave a package on both pillows. As for Lizzie, it was as simple as walking into her quarters and dropping the package where she knew the scientist would see it.

And finally, there was Mason. He was, by far, the easiest to gift even if his was the largest of all of them. She simply slipped past the cheering crowd as they surrounded the cage where a poor unfortunate soul that had been found by the raiders was forced to fight for their life against some kind of beast Lucy didn’t recognize. Or maybe she just didn’t want to recognize it. Either way, it was a great distraction that gave her more than enough time to sneak into the ‘nest’ and set the wrapped gift neatly where Mason was sure to see it among the furs that made up his bed.

And with him done, Lucy’s bag was empty and she was ready to head back to the Fizztop and relax for the rest of the day. Hell, she might crack open a Nuka-Dark or two just for them and sit back and watch the sunset on what was still promising to be a good day.

She was so lost in thought that she missed Mason rounding the corner on his way to the nest until it was too late to hide. Instead she set her face into one that would hopefully keep him from asking too many questions and continued on her way.

“Boss,” Mason said as Lucy tried to pass his muscular bulk, the surprise obvious in that single syllable. “You looking for me?”

“No,” Lucy said simply, if not a little curtly, trying to keep her face straight. “I was just looking around.”

“Looking around… in my space?” Mason shifted until he was completely blocking her path and crossed his arms over his broad chest before grinning down at her. “I could always give you a tour if you like.”

“No,” Lucy answered firmly, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks as she looked away from him, unable to hold his gaze. Dammit.

“I’m just fucking with you, boss. But seriously, did you find whatever you were looking for?”

“Uh--”

“‘Cause some of my guys said you’ve been running around all morning with a big ol’ bag, going from place to place all sneaky like.”

“I wasn’t--” Lucy began before cutting herself off and turning her amber eyes back to his with a hard look within. “I don’t think it’s any of your business, Mason.”

“When you go snooping ‘round my things it is,” Mason retorted lowly. “I ain’t got no reason to not believe you when you say you weren’t lookin’ for anything, but it’s not a good look for you to be running around all our hangouts with an empty bag, boss. Unless….”

“Unless?”

“Unless this,” he began as he nudge the bag with his toes, “Has anything to do with Christmas and that big red guy that gives kids all those gifts? That’s a pre-war thing, ain’t it?”

“It is,” Lucy answered shortly, her cheeks heating up even hotter than before. “But that’s not--”

“You got me something?” Mason’s eyes lit up even as he spoke, not caring that he had interrupted her. Lucy began to lie again, insisting that she certainly had not and she had been looking for something else, but she laughed instead. Apparently that was all the answer Mason needed as he slid past Lucy by pushing himself against the far wall and side stepping, scurrying off to his room and finally allowing Lucy to leave. She wasted no time in returning to the Fizztop, eager to deliver her final gift of the day.

----

The patio was empty when Lucy arrived, not unusual but still unsettling when Gage wasn’t there to greet or grill her on where she had been. However the Overboss knew she didn’t have long to dwell on this if she wanted to be ready for wherever Gage did decide to show up again. Knowing the raider, it could be a matter of minutes or hours, meaning she would have to act fast or be caught in the act.

Lucy was finishing up the final touches when the double doors opened from across the room and Gage stepped in, an uncharacteristic blush dusting his cheeks and a brightly wrapped something in his hands. He opened his mouth to say something as he spotted her, but words appeared to fail him. Looking down at herself, Lucy could almost understand why.

She had slipped out of her normal get up into something a little more festive. Perhaps the theme would fly straight over the raiders head with the red fabric and fuzzy white trim, but she was certain that the implications behind it all were loud and clear for him.

It was a tight fitting number, meaning that rolling her hips to him was a little difficult, but Lucy still managed it, smirking slightly as his mouth seemed to fall open even further, his eye widening so far she thought it might pop out as well.

“Merry Christmas,” she whispered as she stopped toe-to-toe with him, pushing his hands and the package in them back against him. “Santa didn’t want to deliver you a gift this year, so I figured I would make it up to you.”

“Holy shit,” he finally said on a breath, taking a step back and looking her over again. “Does this mean I’m off your naughty list, boss?”

“Dunno,” Lucy teased, reaching out and touching the package in his hands with the tips of her fingers and batting her lashes at him. “Depends on if this is for me or not.”

Gage’s expression turned from one of extreme interest to one of worry as he hesitantly passed over the object in question. Lucy began to rip the paper away, eager to see what he was so worried about gifting her, but stopped when she saw something scribbled out on the paper. Holding it up into the light, she stifled her laugh.

Written on the paper over and over, in different spellings each time, was her name. Her real name, not her nick-name. She counted at least four misspellings, one correct spelling, all of which had been scratched out until she finally found ‘OVERBOSS’ written in what she could only describe as true chicken-scratch.

“Have a little trouble, Porter?” She winked at him playfully before pulling the paper off eagerly and tossing it at her feet to deal with later as she held in her hands a very plain wooden box.

“It’s not exactly something I imagine you’ll use too much,” Gage began apologetically as Lucy pushed the lid up and open. She let out a soft sound as she saw what laid within.

“Oh, Gage. It’s beautiful.” Lucy pulled the pistol from the soft material surrounding it and turned it slowly in the lights around them until she saw something neatly engraved on the other side.

Lucy Feit - Overboss of Nuka-World.

Still holding the box in her hand, Lucy ran a finger over the cold metal and smiled. “It’s beautiful. Did you do this part yourself?”

“I had help,” Gage muttered, the blush returning even heavier than before. “So you really like it?”

“I love it,” Lucy assured, returning the firearm to the box and lowering it to her side. “You ready for your gift?”

“I thought I was still on the naughty list?”

***

It was getting dark by time William and Lucy reached Bradberton, a kind of unnatural dark that had her thinking of winter storms and early nights. They walked in silence, William looking around for any sign of the missing Operator and Lucy simply struggling to keep up. But she didn't dare ask him to slow down. As it happened she didn't need to. William stopped on his own and gestured to something in the distance.

"We need to find shelter."

"Why?" Lucy followed the finger he held out to point and realized why. In the distance a large cloud was rolling in, and rolling in fast. “Shit.” “Sandstorm,” William said helpfully. Lucy nodded in agreement. “Can you tell how fast it’s moving?”

“Too fast for us to get back,” Lucy guessed, watching as the cloud grew larger and darker on its approach. “Want to push forward or take shelter now?”

“I thought you were the boss,” William said in a way that might have been teasing. Lucy fought the blush that began to rise to her cheeks and shook her head once.

“I am, I just thought that maybe you wanted to look for Lizzie as long as we could.”

“We won’t make it far,” William mused, already turning toward the closest intact building. “Best we seek shelter now, not risk getting caught out in the open in it.”

Even if Lucy had wanted to object William wouldn’t have heard her. Cursing his long legs she half-jogged after him, headed toward the large building with the sign that simply read “MOTEL”.

“Shit,” Lucy gasped as the wind began to whistle through the room. William nodded in agreement, easing his way toward one of the windows and looking out. Lucy peered out behind him and let out a sharp breath. “Wow.”

“Have you never seen a sandstorm before?”

“It’s…. Been a while.” Backing away from the window she looked around the room, her eyes landing on a dimly blinking terminal calling for her to investigate. She heeded the words and tapped away, happy to find that it wasn’t password protected, but disappointed to realize there was nothing useful on it either.

“I have a holotape if you like,” William offered when Lucy sighed in frustration. As she raised a brow at him in question, he shrugged his broad shoulders once. “One of our scavvers brought it to me. Thought it might’ve had something interesting on it, but it’s just music.”

Lucy began to object, ready to claim there was no need for them to bother with it, but as she heard the winds whistling past she changed her mind. “Alright. Toss it here.”

Rather than tossing it, William walked it over to her, the tips of his fingers grazing the black leather of her gloves as he set it in her palm. Lucy ignored the touch and shoved the tape into place, clicked a few more keys, and soon the crooning of someone she recognized as pre-war began to drift through the room, drowning out the winds around them.

“Better,” she admitted after a few verses. William grunted in agreement and Lucy laughed softly. “You gonna be this talkative the entire time we’re trapped in here?”

“Is there something you wanted to talk about?” Dark eyes drifted towards the Overboss, a brow raising in question. “I was under the impression you wanted to keep your past life private. Given how loudly you screamed it the last time someone kept pressing you on it.”

“Well, maybe I want to know a little more about you.”

“About me?” Surprise crept into the usually cold voice. “Didn’t think you would be all that interested in that.”

“We never had a quiet moment together for me to ask,” Lucy said as the singer began to reach a crescendo.

“What would you like to know?”

“Well, I know you and Mags came from Diamond City and I know that Gage eventually found you two and you brought your gang here, but what about before then?”

“What about it?”

“Like, how did you two survive?”

“There was three of us,” William corrected, his dark eyes flickering to meet the amber ones for a moment before looking away again. “Lizzie has been with us since day one.”

“Right,” Lucy agreed with a small nod. “So how did the three of you survive? I’ve asked Lizzie and Mags but they won’t tell me anything.”

“And you think I will?” Before Lucy could apologize or change the subject, William was chuckling. “Mags is too proud to admit it, but we begged for a while. Eventually I managed to find a job on a farm, earned us enough caps for a pipe-rifle, robbed them blind and left.”

“Oh.”

William shrugged again, crossing his arms over his chest as the next song began to play in the background. “We kept the cycle going for a while, eventually we gained enough of a reputation that people were either handing it all over to us without any problem or asking to join us in the next raid.”

“How long did it take?”

“Long enough.” And with that, William ended the conversation. As the pair stood and listened to the wind whistling over the music, William began to hum. After a few moments of his tune, he turned to Lucy and extended his hand. “May I?”

Lucy blinked once, unaware that her mind had even begun to wander. What had she been thinking about? Had she been thinking about the sandstorm? About Gage waiting for her back at the Fizztop? Had she been thinking about how handsome and different William was from all the other raiders she knew? Perhaps she had been thinking of all of it, as she was walking around the counter and placing her hand in his without a second thought.

“Where did you-- nevermind,” Lucy said on a half-chuckle. William returned it with a smirk, barely visible beneath his beard and mustache. “Upperclass. Of course you would know how to slow dance.”

“You’re tense,” William noted, his hand placed firmly on her lower back and not budging. “Am I making you nervous?”

“A little,” Lucy admitted. “I’m not-- I don’t really….”

“I understand,” William muttered, starting to walk her back and forth as they swayed. “You’re nervous around men.”

“It’s not--” “There's nothing to worry about,” William interrupted, starting a turn. “I am a gentleman, you know.”

“I know,” Lucy breathed, daring herself to look up into his eyes again. When she did, she found him staring intently down at her. He completed the turn as the holotape went to the next song, one that wasn’t really meant for slow dancing but they were going to dance anyway. Or perhaps they were dancing to their own song now.

“I am so very glad you made it through the Gauntlet,” William whispered, leaning his to continue. “I’m glad you listened to Gage, beat Colter, and listened to Mags when she told you we were the ones to back.”

Lucy listened to his drawl with bated breath, watching as he leaned in closer and closer, his lips just inches from her by the time he stopped.

“I thought you were a gentleman,” Lucy whispered, her eyes drifting to half-closed as she waited for him to close the gap between them.

“Only when I want to be,” he whispered back, his beard already tickling her chin. His lips were so close she could almost taste him and she realized she wanted so badly to kiss him. And who wouldn’t? He was handsome, he was brave, and he was a gentleman. He was so different from Gage that--

Porter, Lucy thought as she pulled her head back from him. He would be waiting for her, wouldn’t he? He would be back at the Fizztop, wearing a hole in the floor with his pacing as he cursed her name and waited for her to come back to him. He would be waiting for her to show up again so he could yell at her, she could yell at him, then he would carry her to the bed where they would let out all their pent up frustration with a hot and passionate tumble.

“I can’t,” Lucy said as she began to push William away. He released her right as the door opened and a shadowy and dust covered figure stumbled in. Overboss and Operator both snapped their heads towards the intruder, William drawing his weapon as Lucy drew her breath.

“Lizzie?” Lucy took a step toward the woman as she shook the dust from her curls, obviously trying to keep herself looking presentable.

“Overboss. William.” She greeted them with a small smile of relief. “I was at the police station and thought I saw you two slip in here, but the storm was on us before I could make it out the door.”

“Is the storm finally gone?” William began to approach the window and look out even as Lizzie shook her head.

“No, it’s still raging. Probably hitting the parks by now, too.” Her dark eyes slid from William to Lucy and back again, a frown forming between her usually smooth brow. “Did I interrupt something?”

“What?” Lucy felt her face begin to heat, something she hoped, but doubted, the dim lights around them would hide.

“When I came in, you and William seemed--”

“You didn’t interrupt anything,” William deadpanned as he backed from the window and turned towards the women, his back to the cracked glass. “The storm should be over soon. We’ll stick together and head back. Hopefully Mags made it back okay.”

“I’m sure she did,” Lizzie assured him, her eyes not leaving Lucy once. “You know Mags is very resourceful.”

“I should be getting back to the Fizztop soon,” Lucy added, trying not to squirm under her friend's gaze. “Porter’s waiting for me.” ijI hope.ij

“Probably tearing the parks apart looking for you,” Lizzie teased as William opened the door. The winds seemed to have died down for the most part, but there were still gusts of wind that dragged along whatever debris had been caught in it.

“We’d better get a move on before the storm picks up again.” William looked back at the women, his eyes lingering on Lucy just a moment longer than they should have. “After you, boss.”

***

On the walk back to Nuka-World Lizzie filled them in on what exactly had happened. Apparently, one of the Operators overheard a Pack scavver talking about some kind of lab set-up and the Operator told Lizzie, wanting to take credit for such a great discovery. The only problem was there was no such lab, just a Pack-hole that knew Lizzie would catch wind somehow and want to investigate it herself. She was on her way back through Bradberton when the storm kicked up and she opted to take shelter in the police station. She had heard Lucy and William talking about taking shelter themselves but by the time she made it outside the storm was almost in full swing and she had no option but to wait for a break and make a mad dash for the Motel she had seen them go into.

“I never really believed in fate,” Lizzie mused as they neared the Parlor, “I only believed in things you can only see or feel. But it seemed like a bit too much of a coincidence for us all to be that close to each other.”

“I’m sure it was just a coincidence,” William disagreed. Lucy nodded in agreement, glancing toward the Fizztop to try and spot Gage waiting for her on the lift. She spotted him, not at the top but at the bottom. She froze, her eyes drifting to William unwittingly.

“Give my best to Mags,” Lucy said as her farewell, making a beeline for the Fizztop where Gage was waiting.

His arms were crossed and he was scowling, but as she approached she could see the relief and worry in his eye. He met her halfway and made a move as if to grab her and pull her close but stopped himself just short.

“You had me worried, boss.”

“I was helping William find Lizzie.”

“Where?”

“Bradberton.” Lucy shook her head and scoffed lightly, already going on the defensive. “Nothing happened, okay? We got caught in a sandstorm, found Lizzie, then we came back here.”

“What do you mean ‘nothing happened’?”

“I mean nothing happened,” Lucy hissed, the guilt finally hitting her. “We stayed in that old Motel and waited for the storm to leave, Lizzie found us, and we all came back here. You can ask either one of them.”

1. Does your character have good aim?

As long as he can stay calm and gets some time to line up his shots, his aim is very good. It starts to suffer the more stressed he is – he’s still okay in dire situations, but not as good as he could be. Keeping a cool head is part of the learning process.

3. Does your character prefer to work in silence or with noise and of what kind?

Generally likes to have some music in the background unless it’s something that demands all of his focus.

9. Could your character win an arm wrestling competition? How well would they do?

He could maybe win against the few weakest ones before being tuckered out and straight up overpowered.

31. How much does your character care about their appearance?

Not a huge amount, but I suppose generally more than the average post-war person. Hygiene should be decent, clothes in order and he’s good. He can get a little self-conscious when he doesn’t have the mask on, but that has more to do with how he’s less used to people seeing his face.

36. Would your character prefer to sit around and chill or be up and moving and doing something?

Sit around and chill, as long as that can involve some tinkering and stuff like that.

47. Has your character ever stolen anything?

Yeah, mainly from work environments but not really from stores or people directly. Lots of pens and notepads and maybe a few folders of stuff from various places he’s worked at. Those weren’t really on purpose though, he just absentmindedly put stuff in his bag and then forgot or didn’t care enough to return it. Two of the bigger things that were absolutely on purpose: some samples of the Cabots’ serum, and a lobster to keep as a pet.

58. Does your character prefer the ocean or the mountains?

As neat as the ocean and its inhabitants are, he prefers the mountains because they carry such a homey feeling with them.

59. What kinds of things does your character use as paperweights?

Anything within reach that does the job. A book, one of his many trinkets, a handful of caps, a screwdriver, a dagger

67. Would your character be willing to do something they consider morally wrong in order to achieve their goals?

Within reason, and as long as the benefits of it outweigh the risks and disadvantages and his conscience doesn’t suffer too much.

69. Has your character ever found themselves in with the wrong crowd and had to attempt to break from it?

I guess Nuka World would qualify? After all, he was but a meek science man among a crowd of bloodthirsty psychopaths just waiting for an excuse to string him up. I’m undecided whether he would’ve tried to escape or if the threat of getting eviscerated was enough to keep him there without Gage having to like... physically trap him.

72. Would your character care for someone who needed it if it meant being ostracized from their society?

Joke’s on you, he’s already been ostracized for most of his life so yeah who gives a shit

On a more serious note – assuming he has people in that society who he cares for already that would ostracize him – probably not. Unless he cares even more about that someone.

91. Does your character engage in gossip?

He’s not against the more harmless stuff, it can be interesting to hear. He’s unlikely to join in though, and as soon as it goes into like… bitchy gossip territory, mostly stuff that has to do with appearance, he’s out. Or still listening but just very annoyed now.

102. Are any of your characters d/Deaf or HoH?

Nah, his hearing is fine all things considered. Maybe not the absolute best in the world, but perfectly normal.

112. Does your character believe in wishing fountains and shooting stars?

No and he will make fun of you if you do. Or at least look at you condescendingly.

124. Does your character workout?

Clearing out parks and going on raids and stuff like that are workouts in and of themselves, but he doesn’t really do activities that are only there for the sake of working out. Unless certain people were to force strongly encourage him

128. Has your character’s home ever been destroyed?

Well, definitely when the bombs fell. I’m undecided about other instances pre-war, since he did live through two other world wars, but Switzerland was largely unscathed. Leaning towards no, but anything can happen ✨

I may or may not have played around with the idea of slightly older and angry bitter hector returning to his parents’ house for the sole purpose of burning it down

140. Can your character play an instruments?

Good question. I could see him having some basic skill in a variety of different instruments, but nothing really worth mentioning. Maybe with piano being the most advanced.

151. Would your character ever go cliff diving?

Sure, why not! Adrenaline fun

161: Your character’s opinion of pineapple?

A17) What’s one of your OC’s proudest moments of themselves?

The first time he gave an order that he knew the bosses wouldn’t like, and they obeyed without arguing or questioning it (much). It was finally a clear sign that he had things under control.

A20) Are they harsh on themselves?

Yeah… always questioning himself and whether he did good enough, what he could have done better – kind of a perfectionist.

A24) What are some of your OC’s biggest personal obstacles? This could be emotional, physical, social… Are they aware of it? Are they trying to overcome it?

Mostly emotional and social – emotional in the sense that he doesn’t know himself very well and doesn’t understand his own emotions. This also influences how well he carries himself socially, though it’s not the only reason he’s bad at social interaction. He just never really learned it, communicating is hard and anxiety kicks his ass. He sure is aware of how unnecessarily nervous he gets in many situations. Of course he’d like it to not be that way, but he also doesn’t want to expose himself to more of this stress than necessary, even if doing so would help him overcome it (or at least make it less bad). 

B1) Do they believe you have to give respect to get it, or get respect to give it?

answered

B6) Would your OC let someone ahead of them in line if your OC had a big cart and the person behind them had very few items?

Yeah because it’s nice but also he’d hate to be fumbling to get everything in a bag while the person behind him waits impatiently

B10) Does your OC find any “bad” or “mean” humor funny? Do they wish they didn’t?

Bad as in dad jokes and boomer humor, yeah it’s a riot. Doesn’t feel bad about that one, if it’s funny it’s funny. He’s more inclined to feel bad about the mean or dark humor – definitely if he finds it funny and others don’t. But it’s more on a case by case basis whether he finds that funny or not. “What do you call a family of ducks on the road? Speed bumps.” NOT funny, those poor ducks didn’t hurt anyone ;<;

B12) Your OC orders something to eat and gets their order done in a pretty wrong way, something they can’t just pick off or whatnot to correct, or something major is missing. What do they do?

answered

C6) What do they do when they see someone asking for money or food? If they ignore them, why? If they help, how so?

Pre-war, he’s likely to walk past with a mumbled ‘sorry’, pretending he has no cash on him or something. He’d feel bad about it because that was a lie and he could have helped, but he wouldn’t really want to give them straight up money, because he doesn’t really want to finance drugs or alcohol. But like going to the store with them to buy them a sandwich or something if they’re hungry requires so much social labor and then those kinda people are often likely to wanna talk to him about their problems for a long time and he just doesn’t want to deal with that. No matter how bad he feels about it.

Post-war, he’s likely to throw them some caps, or give them some purified water, or whatever little thing they ask for – as long as no one can see. After all, an overboss isn’t supposed to just give away stuff to some beggar.

D2) Do they believe in an afterlife?

Not until he gets proof, which is extremely unlikely to ever happen. He’s not a dick to people believing in it though, unlike superstition. I can imagine he might reconsider his stance a bit after he’s forcefully reminded of his sister, but I don’t think he’d really believe in it. It would just be a nice thought to have sometimes, nice to play a little pretend.

F2) What’s their ideal home look like? Where is it?

answered

H4) Does your OC believe in love in first sight?

No. Hell, he’s not even sure if he’s supposed to believe in love itself. At least not until it really clicks with him that love can be platonic too. But sometimes he wishes love at first sight was real because that’s probably the only way he’d ever have the chance to fall in love with anyone. Attraction at first sight exists, sure, but even if he felt that, it’s not something he’d pursue further.

H8) What’s your OC’s idea of a perfect date?

Ignoring all the circumstantial stuff above… first of all it would have to be with someone he already feels very comfortable with. Just a nice little simple thing – chilling with a beer in a quiet corner at a bar, or outside at night by a fire. Calm and quiet, with nice conversations and comfortable silence. No pressure about anything.

J8) In reality-based or applicable worlds, do they believe in global warming? Do they recycle?

I don’t remember any mention of climate change in the fallout world and I don’t care enough right now to research it or put too much thought into it.

So assuming it was a thing before the bombs dropped, yeah. If science says it’s real then of course it’s real. It’s not something you either believe in or don’t, it’s fucking fact. He’d invest a normal amount of energy into recycling. He wouldn’t remove every single aluminium lid and carton sleeve off a plastic yogurt container, but he would generally pay attention to recycling properly.

L1) How have your characters changed since you created them?

answered

L4) Would you hang out with your OC if you could?

answered

L9) How did you come up with your OC?

10. What does your OC keep in a special drawer?

He usually has his journal on him, but sometimes you know it’s gonna be a particularly messy day, and that’s when it goes in the drawer for safekeeping. Ones that he’s filled out are also stashed away in there. Also other personal notes that don’t go in the journal, as well as plans for super important projects of mysterious gift giving.

30. Did your OC participate in extracurricular activities, and if so, what were they?

(long story short I can’t find historical facts about extracurricular activities in Switzerland in the 19th/20th century so I’m just winging it)

1) There’s not much of a ‘club’ culture like you see in the US (or in media portraying the US at least). Generally there’s sports stuff you can go to, but there’s not much in terms of like.. science and arts clubs. At least not ones that are directly organized by schools. Generally, if you wanna go do club things in your free time, expect to shill out a lot of money. Hector did not have a lot of money.

2) I imagine it’s more common from a university level on, as well as more offers that are relevant to his interests. The baseline interest is there, but Hector would be very iffy on the social aspect of it. Working on some kind of project in Science Club sounds cool, but there’s people who can judge him and he doesn’t really wanna do competitions and that kind of stuff either. He just wants to have fun and go at his own pace.

In conclusion, surprisingly enough, no extracurricular activities for Hector (or at least only very few). He’d rather just stay at school longer by himself and do projects alone.

39. How does your OC handle anger?

Get tense, ball his fists, but mostly containing it. He might get short and snappy with someone, and generally seek to remove himself from the situation. He rarely gets outright hostile, but there are definitely some scenarios in which he’d lose his temper, yell or even get physical.

Usually though, he shoves it down and later just turns up the music, or go out to  shoot some shit. Maybe take a flamer to a shack no one needs, that’s always good fun.

54. Does your OC think with his/her head or heart?

Very much with his head. Heart might be the impulse, but a lot of the time he reels himself back in because he doesn’t trust his own feelings. (of course this doesn’t include the wacky shenanigans in which he does stuff just because he can. there’s neither heart nor brain involved there)

58. How does your OC take criticism?

He has a tendency to get a little down over it, no matter if it’s constructive or not. Nicely phrased constructive criticism is easiest to deal with. Might even invite him to turn it into a good-natured discussion about the topic, if he feels confident enough around the person who gave him the criticism in the first place. Rudely phrased constructive criticism is the bane of his existence. ‘your work sucks ass and here’s a few good reasons why’ is just so… argh. Like, they’re not wrong, but did they have to be so mean about it? Now he feels bad because he didn’t do good and the person was rude and about feeling miffed itself despite the fact that they’re right and he agrees and  >:/

63. How does your OC display love?

I kinda went on a rant about this already, oops. Acts of service and little gifts mostly. Being less selfish about things, like going out of his way to do something for them, even though it’s something he really doesn’t want to do. Or choosing hanging out with them over alone time, even though he’s been among people all damn day and his social battery is drained.

77. What is your OC’s favorite sound?

Metal music (once he has his shiny new pet) fog crawler idle sounds. Still no idea if they’re supposed to be breathing noises or what, because that makes little sense to me considering it is a big shrimp, but it does have that kind of rhythm. Anyway, that low rumble they do when they’re just chilling, it’s calming. And it tells Hector that his boy/girl/?? Is happy and relaxed. Also, once he gets used to it (because it can be kinda loud, especially when everything around is quiet), that shit lulls him right to sleep.

EDIT: researched a bit and found out that some marine invertebrates (such as lobsters and mantis shrimp 👀) can make low frequency buzzing sounds by vibrating their carapace. It doesn’t quite sound the same, but that’s on a way smaller animal, so perhaps this is indeed what I’m looking for. Just don’t know why they do it 

15. What was something their parents taught them?

How to shoot a gun

23. Do they get lonely easily?

Not really. They’re used to being around a lot of people - considering they weren’t that isolated growing up, the work they did before the war required them to be around people a lot, and they had their own group of friends and associates - so getting some time alone and unbothered is usually a nice break. It would take a few weeks of total isolation from society to actual start to feel lonely, and even then, it would take a lot more time for it to become a legitimate issue 

26. Are they aware of their flaws?

Some of them, yes. Butch knows they can get angry pretty easily and quickly, so they try their best to keep it under check. But being unwilling to care about issues besides their own/the issues of people they care about/things that don’t really affect them, their willingness to strike back at people and inflict pain on who they feel have wronged them, no, they don’t really think those are flaws

39. What does their happily ever after look like?

If asked personally, they’d probably idolize the life they had before the war and say it’s something like that, with certain social and economic changes so they wouldn’t have to face the problems they did. Realistically, they just need a small community of people they can trust and rely on, the freedom to be who they want without judgement, to be able to mind their business and pursue their interests without hindrance, and to know that the people they love and care about are safe and happy

42. What is their favorite thing about their physical appearance?

Hair, most likely. They’re very proud of it, and go to great lengths to take care of it

55. What is their alcohol tolerance like? What kind of drunk are they? How bad are their hangovers?

Pretty good tolerance, if not for their size, then because they weren’t really a stranger to drinking pre war. They’re the kind of drunk that, when with other people and socializing, laughs way more easily and is generally extremely friendly and smiley, thinks everything is fucking hilarious, and is also way less concerned about personal space and gets really affectionate

post war - in between waking up from cryo and Gage putting his foot down - they were just their usual quiet self, just miserable and trying to make everything hurt less

60. Describe the way they sleep.

It takes a little bit to fall asleep, since they usually have a lot on their mind - from thinking about things they need to do, what they want to do for their current project, other projects they want to start, responsibilities that need to be taken care of, and just plain dwelling on the past - and it can take some time to wind down. Not a heavy sleeper, but not a light one either, more in the middle. Has a habit of grabbing on to whatever is nearby (usually pillows, excess blanket, and whoever is unfortunate enough to be sleeping nearby) while sleeping and just. hugging it close RIP your bones. Sometimes can be heard mumbling 

63. What is always guaranteed to make them smile?

Lily! Whether she’s off doing something, or ranting about whatever has her interest, it makes Butch happy. Also, people who share their interest in technology and will actively want to talk about it with them, since it’s not often they meet someone who will know what the hell they’re even talking about, let alone how to respond

80. Are they a morning person or a night owl?

Mentioned in the last ask meme, but they’re a morning person who ends up a night owl because they have a habit of getting so engrossed in what they’re doing that they forget to watch the time, or even realize how tired/hungry they are until they stop

83. Can they swim? How well? Do they like to swim?

They can swim, and they enjoy it quite a bit. It’s not something that they’ll mention or talk about, or even seek out regularly, but when the opportunity presents itself, they’re more than happy to take it and just chill for a while

85. Do they believe in ghosts?

Nah

89. What is their D&D alignment?