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@tempesttragedya
find me @tempesttragedy

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indie, selective multimuse roleplay blog. headcanon based and often canon divergent.
Features mature subject matter focused on the theme of recovering from trauma and moving forward, taken from personal lore, various video games, movies, & television series.
Written by Rin, 27.
[ site ] [ blog ]
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touchedskyâ; Veronica Jones
@tempesttragedyâ gets VERONICA JONES
âYou need a hand?â
She pauses midway through tightening up some of the LOOSE pauldrons on Zekeâs power armor before peaking over to see Erec in the midst of repairs of his own. She didnât really GET TO SEE HIM MUCHâââshe figured it was because of those MYSTERIOUS FRIENDS of his, but she didnât really question it. She rather fancied the help.
âYouâre getting a little sweaty down there and I would rather you didnât pass out from heat exhaustion you know.â
She chuckles a little, hopping down from her two step ladder before crouching down on her knees beside him, tucking her skirt out of the wait for ease of movement.
âI wonât ask too many questions, scoutâs honor.â
âNah, I got it-â in reality, he has very much not got it. oil is leaking onto his hands, and the grimace on his lips shows just how aware of this fact he is. â... just ... might need a hand cleaning up...âÂ
hands finally retract, giving up on the oil cap and allowing it to fall to the floor in defeat. a sigh is uttered, and Erec finally looks to Veronica with a weary frown.
âI donât know what the hell we were goinâ up against, but they had firepower enough to put a dent in this,â a gesture is given towards the frame and the oil reservoir that had stained his hands in its lifesblood, âand now my damn leg will barely move!âÂ
judesowndaughterâ
@tempesttragedyââ liked! for a valentineâs day short .
  â Knock knock!  â  Kate announces to a bedroom door left curiously ajar. Her white keds linger at the border between hallway and Chloeâs safe haven, mindful of crossing the threshold without her permission. The door might be open, but privacy still matters.   They say pride goeth before a fall, though, and Kate canât help but give in to the temptation to steal a glance at Chloeâs bedroom.   It takes half a heartbeat for Kate to realize sheâs most certainly not in the clear when a pair of eyes stare back. She stiffens, cheeks flushed candy-pink in embarrassment. Her arms squeeze the baby blue bowl tight, heat seeping past ceramic and soft cardigan to warm her skin. â Hi, hey! Hi! â Kate musters a wobbly smile, â I brought homemade sourdough. â   The statement hangs in the air like dust motes, Kate stirring up them up further as her legs stumble across the room, discomfort driving her to dig deeper into anxiety. She perches the bowl atop Chloeâs desk â no, Mrs. Madsen, she didnât see a glass pipe â hastily picking the cloth cover to unearth the bread, a leaf pattern delicately scored into the crust.   â Blackwell does valentines, â Kate is quick to explain, â And youâre a former studentâŚso itâs only right that you get a valentine today. â
sheâd been asleep when the proclaimed âknockâ had come, and Chloe frowns as she groggily sits up, blinking away the remnants of rest. gaze turns to the door- where she meets Kateâs gaze, a brow raising somewhat tiredly at the unexpected intruder.Â
head is still fuzzy as Kate continues, even going so far as to walk into her room- and presents the bowl, with a delightful pattern clear across the raised loaf.
âI, uh- wow, Kate-â at a loss for words, Chloe hastily pushes herself off the bed, stumbling just a little- and catching a glimpse of her pipe, egregiously left atop her desk. shit. âthatâs really thoughtful of you! I wish I had something--â there is a brief moment of hesitation, then a sudden realization seems to hit her all at once, spurring Chloe to bend over and rummage through a small pile of miscellaneous things that had been kicked off her bed.
fingers wrap around a small tin, and it is quickly withdrawn, offered immediately to Kate with a crooked smile.
âHappy Valentineâs!â

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aamusedlyâ:
âSo Iâve heard once or twice.â
The fate of the world, life itself hanging in the balanceâ still impossible to wrap his head around. It was easier to just appear indifferent. His smile was a polite but waning one. âIâm just doing what is expected, Warden. As are you, I hear. Or⌠not so much?â
âObviously the questions about where the Wardens are have been loud and constant. I donât assume you can answer that, can you? But you can answer where you have beenâŚâ
âah- whatâs expected.â a polite smile graces her own lips, but it does not reach her eyes, which instead seem to harden with his question.Â
âI cannot speak for the rest of the wardens, but as for myself, I have been looking for a cure to the Calling. as useful as we are during a Blight, well -â a shrug, and Raina spreads her arms. âwe are not in a blight any longer.âÂ
of course, the matter of Duty was one which many would speak of; were they not obligated to continue their service; to proliferate on the off chance another Blight was started? Raina cared little for such arguments, however, offering a simple raised brow instead.Â
âDoes that satisfy your curiosity?"
vtratasebeâ
@tempesttragedyâ sent:Â âIâm right here.â ( from laura )
Oleksandrâs  head  lulls  for  a  moment.  Heâs  been  struck  over  the  head  with  something.  He  didnât  see  what  it  was,  and  to  be  entirely  honest,  he  didnât  care  what  it  was.  His  vision  is  blurry;  it  is  a  familiar  sensation.  He  blinks  hard,  shaking  his  head  lightly.    Laura..?    he  questions,  half-lidded  gaze  watching  her  closely.    I  still  did  it..    He  murmurs,  right  hand  raising  to  produce  the  implant  he  was  tasked  with  retrieving.    I  still  got  the  implant..  
âhey, donât worry about that right now-â voice is hushed, gaze flickering in search of whoever might have knocked him out. finding no one, however, Laura swiftly moves to Oleksandrâs side, taking and tucking away the implant before making the effort to help him up.Â
âletâs get out of here, alright? then we can make sure itâs all good.âÂ
lotuskissedâ:
â well  corn-nuts,  if  you  really  want  to,  we  can  have  a  drink  or  two  together.  my  present  to  you  is  that  i  wonât  kick  you  in  the  gut. â she  grins  widely. Â
âshame it ainât a party - I woulda got gift bags. lucky you that I havenât ; yours woulda been a knife to the throat.â they clear his throat, then shake his head with a sigh. âwhatâre yâ drinking?â
lotuskissedâ
she  has  known  the  MOJAVE  DESERT  more  than  she  has  known  the  commonwealth,  even  more  than  her  home  of  the  captial,  because  of  that,  ramona  still  saw  herself  as  a  stranger  in  the  lands  of  the  east,  even  if  she  were  born  there. Â
despite  that,  she  has  certainly  heard  of  the  MINUTEMEN.  a  bunch  of  do-gooders  who  went  around  developing  community  after  community  &  helping  those  in  need.  (  and  someone  laura  associates  with,  that  she  knows.  )
ramona  smirks.  â i  hear  theyâre  a  bunch  of  goody-two-shoes, â she  says  with  a  chuckle. â they  help  people,  ya  know?  they  make  communities,  they  protect  the  innocent.  they  usually  depend  on  a  certain  someone  to  do  all  their  bidding. â she  understood  that  all  too  much. â is  there  a  reason  why  youâre  askinâ? â and  asking  ramona  nonetheless. Â
âI need to talk to someone,â Alia confesses easily, though no details are forthcoming. âI was headed to the Castle, but there are raiders demanding a toll on the ways into Boston.âÂ
It was difficult enough to traverse the Commonwealth without an escort, and the Brotherhood had at least had the decency to supply her with some armor, but that didnât help anything when it came to finding supplies or buying them.
She hesitates once more, taking a deep breath before sighing and reluctantly admitting, âI donât have any caps...âÂ
cicero-the-assassinâ
Half a smirk rests on his face now watching the other. It was interesting. Sure, this wasnât the first heâd come across and surely it wouldnât be the last. But even still, it surprised him each time to see that evil still skulked about in the corners of the world. And though Lucio didnât indulge all that much anymore, he could tell that the other hadnât quite sorted that out just yet.
âAcquaintedâ, he says. How strange. Most he met were lonely souls like him. Kept to themselves. âPerhaps youâre right,â Old habits died hard, and Lucio now intended to keep an eye on this one. âAfter all, there are a few things Iâd like to keep for myself. A courtesy, Iâm sure you understand. You may call me Lucio.â
âLucio... Excellent.â offering a gloved hand, Cronus arches a brow and introduces himself - âMost folks call me Cro... when I let âem, that is.â though his glasses obscure his eyes, there is a mischievous glint even in his smile.Â
âso -- keepinâ some things to yourself, huh? I get that. You want dibs, though, you gotta speak up.âÂ

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fyrewalksâ
âHands-on experience at the expense of my own,â Taylor sighs. As much as she knows theyâre fighting for the same limited screen time, itâs still frustrating. Thereâs supposed to be order, hierarchy to it all. Itâs a shit industry to break into, but Taylorâs always loved that once youâve found your place, once youâve fought for it, itâs yours.
Itâs an oversimplification. Just as her thinking that truth, plain and simple truth, will come out on top. Itâs not just truth, itâs how you tell it. How you spin it into something people want to see. People donât want murders but serial killers; sting of robberies instead of just a one of because someoneâs desperate from cash. âI guess I just have to up my game.â Find something juicy thatâll get syndicated to other stations.Â
âOf course. thatâs always how it is.â of course, the words are spoken with derision directed solely at those who made those these decisions; Laura is far too familiar, both from her time in the military and working in the private sector.
eyes light up suddenly, but are halted by hesitation.Â
â.... I might have a lead for you, but itâs.... well, itâs a little complicated. But we could definitely use the publicity on the case...âÂ
cicero-the-assassinâ
âSomethinâ like that,â Lucio nods idly, having spotted this creature from a ways off and decided to come say hello. He was curious what he was doing here, but Lucio had a slight idea.
âRaiding parties keep picking off settlers. Caravans. I was asked as a favor to help. And you? Here for the show?â
âIf yâwanna call it that, sure.â toothpick is plucked out from between teeth, pointed casually at Lucio with a brow arched. âconsider me an interested party. heard some hustle and bustle, followed the noise... and here I am.âÂ
overclocksâ
âI was a kid once, Garvey.â And besides, sometimes a classic is a classic for a reason, andâŚJust another joke no one will get out here. Heâs starting to become uncomfortably familiar with the way Steve must have felt all those years ago, first out of the ice, and he canât say heâs a fan.
His gaze lingers a moment longer toward the Glowing Sea, a line forming unseen between his eyebrows behind the faceplate. Honestly, Preston has literally no idea how right he is in his assessment, because truth be told, gun, something from Cambridge Polymer Labs, whateverâŚHaving an idea of who, but not what, heâs going to be tracking down leaves himâŚUneasy. Makes him feel unprepared. HulkâŚHulk you can mostly count on to smash. But not always. He can be more unpredictable than he thinks anyone ever really considered in days gone by. One thatâs been soaking in the rads this long? This is gonna require more planning than he can do with his thumb up his ass, at the edge of the livable Commonwealth.
âYeahâŚYeah, I know the place.â And he does, in the pre-war sense. Had some dealings with them way back when. Has something of what would have been an insiderâs view into their little corporate and r&d world, but the details are fuzzy - a lot has happened between then and now. âIâm already rad proof, but-â But he has an implant that can possibly leave him susceptible to all kinds of nasty things, if heâs not careful.
âA little extra icing on the cake never made anyone sad.â But this is all a task for future Tony to plan and handle. Current Tony is supposed to be doing Minutemen things, not ruminating over lost souls he used to know possibly (definitely) dwelling in an irradiated hellscape. He shakes himself, mentally, back to the present. âHell of a march from here to Cambridge proper, though. And something tells me you wonât be a fan of the Iron Uber treatment as a shortcut, but I honestly think weâre wasting time out here. Nothing butâŚFerals and supermutants and Iâm at least eighty percent sure I saw a deathclaw on that ridge.â
He jerks a thumb over his shoulder, out back toward the decrepit power junction a ways back, framed behind by the foothills. âSo if weâre gonna parade march out of here, we probably should.â
â âcourse you were. just figured maybe you asked Santa for... lasers, or something else scientific.â preston frowns just a little, considering what else the world before nuclear war might have contained in terms of science-based products. whatever there might have been, they certainly werenât particularly abundant nowadays... except, perhaps, in improvised chem stations.
He pulls himself from drifted focus, offering a nod at Tonyâs words- though his lips purse at the mention of the âIron Uberâ. definitely not something he was eager to try. Hazardous was just one word to come to mind at the mere mention.Â
âAnything helps, right? Even if itâs something to tackle later on.â A glance is spared in the direction indicated, and pursed lips turn downward into a frown. âand Deathclaw or not, I have to agree that itâs best not to stick around. This close to the Glowing Sea? Weâre bound to run into a radstorm or two, and the last thing we need right now is to worry about that on top of whatever else there is out here...â Lucky for them that most Raiders werenât usually stupid enough to set up camp in the vicinity for the very same reason, eliminating one potential enemy.
With all that being said, Preston does not hesitate to turn and begin meandering his way back towards Boston, taking a rather even pace as he waits to match his companion.
@poisonpickedâ: Pierce told Celia, âHey, youâre getting really good at this. Pretty soon youâll be able to kick my ass.â
âwho says I couldnât kick your ass now?â a coy smirk tugs at her lips as a brow is arched in his direction. she had been practicing on the punching bag rather than sparring with him, but eye contact is maintained as she delivers a solid roundhouse kick that, in an act of perfect timing, splits open the worn fabric of the sandbag.
Her attention is quickly drawn to the spilling sand, a grin going so far as to show teeth as she watches.
she looks back to Adrian somewhat mischievously, gesturing at the bag proudly.Â
âThat could be you.âÂ
Celia: đđđđđ đ đđđ đđđđ đđđđ đđđđ đđ đđđđ? Â
where you are heard
how badly does your throat ache? when was it that you started yelling? screaming for a split second of recognition in their eyes. i think i heard you last night, right before i fell asleep, an echo of some sorts. you remember everything and it has rightfully made you angry. there's a part of you that lost its trust in humanity. you've tried it. you've sat them down and explained it, you've written the poems and the stories, you've tried your hand at composing the tunes that match your inner worlds. you've drawn pretty pictures. you've tried, with every last bit of energy inside of you, to translate what you've been meaning to say. i want to ask you to tell me about it, to scream, to demand that i hear you. i wish i could be next to you. it's so simple, this thing you desire. to have someone just look at you, for once, and truly see you, see their eyes light up with all that you've been thinking. i hope you can look in the mirror and see yourself, as wonderful as you are, breathe in deeply, breathe out. know that you are here, that you are yours. that you will always be there to listen to yourself. be gentle with your heart, despite the anger oh please, be gentle. the day will come, when you will be holding yourself in your arms, the most beautiful love you'll have ever found, and i promise you people will come along and recognise the image you have painted. they will sit next to you. they'll hear you before you say a word. you'll be like art to them, the way you're art to yourself, the way even the river sees you walk by and silently sighs her admiration.

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fyrewalksâ
âyou need sleep,â jemma says gently. she considers pouring herself a cup, tea not hot chocolate, but decides against it. the caffeine wonât help nor do the usual, sleepy-time options sound appealing - sometimes, it just feels mocking. âitâll catch up eventually.â one way or another, the lack of sleep wonât be pretty. âiâve seen enough people crash and burn. i donât want it to happen to you.â
âIâll be alright.â Laura offers a halfhearted smile and a shrug. âIâll catch up this weekend.â itâs about as genuine as her smile, more a dismissive line than any real commitment. as likely to happen as her getting to sleep tonight.
âitâs just like this sometimes. a few days here and there, you know?â
cicero-the-assassinâÂ
âWhat part of âI make sureâ do you not understand?â He asks, giving his own cocked eyebrow down at her. If there was one thing he hated, it was others doubtfulness of his ability.
âAnd with all these thoughts floating around in your head, you still allow me nearby. Are you a big risk taker Laura? A gambler?â
she rolls her eyes at his retaliation, but takes him at his word this time. odd. she wouldnât have done that not so long ago.Â
â... evidently, these days, I am.â itâs all she really has to say as she follows, frowning still.Â