GAGE'S TERMINAL

“If your masculinity is that threatened by a simple twist of hair, maybe you should reevaluate just how FRAGILE it is.” She smiles, but it’s more to keep from shaking her head. “Besides. Ain’t nothing wrong with crossing the border, so to speak.”

She didn’t comment on the cut off statement. Wasn’t her place and she wasn’t going to pry. Sounded like the ‘Boss’ went through quite a bit though. She heard about the guy from 111. Sole Survivor. …God, Vault Tec was fucked up.

She snorted, a bit bitterly. “Wasn’t the good ol’ days for me.” She glanced at Gage, a cynical smile on her face. “You think people gave a shit about me back then? Look at me. I was constantly berated, stared at, bullied as a child. Called Commie, Chinaman. And you know what?” She laughed, “I’m Korean! My mother was a refugee from North Korea! Not fucking China.” She shook her head. “Sorry. Just…Honestly I’m probably happier in this radioactive wasteland than I was back then. …Still a sore spot for me.” And always will be, as long as she’d dream of The Red Sea.

“But yeah, your boss not the most stable person I guess from that warning? I mean. Can’t blame him. Waking up to find everything you knew and loved is just gone is…not easy to process.”

        He had a couple questions, himself - for starters, what the hell was a ‘Korea’? ...Not that he cared enough to ask. He could piece together enough on his own. If her mother was a refugee, ‘Korea,’ or at the north one, couldn’t have been good. 

        “ Don’t think the boss had any problems, there, ” he disagreed, “ He’s... quick to adapt. One of those guys that ain’t afraid to burn his bridges, after gettin’ what he wants from the guys on the other side. ” 

Thank God.

Tagged by:@thebxckup

Tagging: @synthmama, @selfmedicatingmayor, @lastofthepast, @red-eye-radio, @themostresilient, @waste-land-artist

(I always end up doing southern gothic for these, so I figure it’s time to change it up, for once. 

How about... Folk-Song-Gage?)

Fleet Foxes - Blue Ridge Mountains

In the quivering forest, Where the shivering dog rests, Our good grandfather Built a wooden nest And the river got frozen, And the hole got snowed in, And the yellow moon glowed bright Till the morning light

Terrible am I, child? Even if you don't mind

Midlake - Young Bride

My young bride, Why aren't you keeping with you All the ones who really love you, All the ones who really love you? Polonaise in winter, Snowshoes and hunters Carried the goods in for you. Darkness and forests grant you The longest Face made for porridge and stew. 

The Antlers - Corsicana

The one time when we woke up We couldn't stop the sparks We couldn't see outside When the curtains fell apart We couldn't hear the books When the pages curled away We should shut that window we both left open now

(...Well, okay - maybe I can indulge by including one southern gothic)

The Devil Makes Three - Old Number 7

Hm… He needs a French braid,

          “ Huh... I don’t know. ”

he quits being a raider to become hair model :D

thebxckup replied to your photo: Post Nuka-World Haircuts Version II: 1) The Bond…

Shouldn’t they all be called “ The Insufferable Douche”

Nora’s just jealous that Gage rocks long hair better than she does. :}

NOW PRESENTING...

4) The Obnoxious Man Bun

5) The “Dude Looks Like a Lady”

Shouldn’t they all be called “ The Insufferable Douche”

Post Nuka-World Haircuts Version II:

1) The Bond Villain

2) The Hanzo 

There we go, she found the right tone. Honestly, she hated being a kiss-ass, but she didn’t feel like having Gage breathing down the Pack’s necks anymore than Mason already was. She could at least shoulder that much responsibility for all these useless idiots lounging around in the amphitheater. Besides, the guy looked warn out, more so than anyone else. It almost made her feel bad for him, seeing as he had to deal with Colter on a daily basis. Shit, she wouldn’t wish that on anyone. 

“Let’s hope so.” Skye responds, not entirely convinced, but her voice was more even now, rather than apprehensive, as one eye studied the other raider while he spoke. Eyebrows raising slowly, the pink-haired woman sat up a bit more straightly in her chair, curiosity blooming inside of her expression now. 

Keep reading

        “ Yeah. I was startin’ to think you’d never show... you greasy dog-fucker. ” 

        Though his tone was as deadpan as always, and though his expression never shifted away from his trademark, irritated scowl, after a moment’s hesitation, Gage pulled Mason into a tight, brotherly embrace - lingering almost a little too long for it to be perceived as entirely platonic.

Frederick’s calm veneer curled into distaste, as if he’d swallowed something nasty and couldn’t get the taste out of his mouth. “Regardless of the lack of moral values you hold, you agreed to join the Shepherds. Our goal is whatever Lord Chrom directs us to, whether it’s rescuing the Exalt or farmers. I won’t abide weak links on the battlefield.” There was no need to draw himself up to make his point. Frederick cut an impressive figure both in and out of his armor, but his brown eyes steeled over at his next words. “The next time you ignore an order from our tactician, you’ll find yourself beneath my sword.”

        “ And then what? ” he questioned, checking the other man’s threat, “ Are you going to divide your battalion? Force a third of your soldiers to fight me, while you’re surrounded by the enemy?”

        He scoffed, disdain clear on his expression, as he spit dying, meager embers onto the tip of his cigar. ...It was the best he could muster, the way he was now.

its-pronounced-metro-city:

Handwriting can tell you a lot about a person. Go here and reblog with your character’s handwriting style!

“Shit man, I’m sorry. You ever need a fix, I got ya covered. Got a brother old enough to buy me shit too if I ever need somethin’ I can’t sneak from my folks.” He smiled over at the other boy, happy to see him actually happy, though what came out of his mouth next did make him feel a little guilty.

“Heh, well, I can’t say I don’t fit exactly that description, but most’a Boston ain’t so rich, I just happen to be one’a the lucky ones. I’ve been gettin’ dragged to all kinds of fancy shit my whole life, it’s fun sometimes, when I can find somethin’ to do or someone to give me booze I shouldn’t be drinkin’, but mostly it’s a bunch’a rich assholes havin’ a dick measuring contest, y’know? Can’t say I blame ya for not bein’ interested in that.”

            “ It’s not the money, ” he explains, surprisingly open, “I wouldn’t mind getting rich, either - but I wouldn’t waste it all on... water polo gear and dumbass shirts with fat pink whales on them. ”

            He would never understand that ‘preppy’ trend.

            Gage was never a betting man, far too pensive for such reckless behavior. He knew better than to pick fights he couldn’t win, both on and off the battlefield...

            Though when it came to gambling in Goodneighbor, the odds were undeniably in his favor. After all, his competition consisted of whores and junkies, all twitching for their next fix - or maybe a meal, if they weren’t entirely beyond hope. Desperation made them careless. They made stupid mistakes, couldn’t keep straight faces -

            But Gage? ...Gage was counting cards - and making a small fortune.

            “ Well... ” he began, a wicked smile curling across his asymmetrical face, “ Looks like you owe me an arm and a leg, but I’ll settle for the clothes off your back. ”

            “ You’re kidding, right? ” the man insisted, growing hostile, “I just... I thought I could win my caps back, man! C’mon! It’s my kid’s birthday this week. Just let me off the hook and I’ll - ”

            “ The clothes. Off your back. ”

            “ ...Fine, you fucking asshole. ...Here. ”

            For a man down on his luck, his ‘victim’s’ checkered suit was of surprisingly high quality. ...Perhaps he and Colter would enjoy a little roleplay that night, after all.