MY HEART IS A GHOST TOWN.

PINNED. ━ ❝ the little baby girl, all grown up. persistent little flower, ain't ya? then and now, it would seem. ❞

independent, selective roleplay blog for the lone wanderer from fallout 3. verses for new vegas, fallout 4 and fallout prime available. writer goes by SKY. 27. she/her pronouns. 21+ only. originally est. 2015.

site.

name:   eliana tyler.

nickname:  el, ellie (if you don't value your life)

gender:    cisgender female.

romantic  orientation:   biromantic.

sexual  orientation:    bisexual.

preferred  pet  names:   none. she hates being called terms of endearment by partners. she accepts being called "ellie" by chris in private, but would be unlikely to do so with anyone else.

relationship  status:   taken. (verse dependent)

opinion  on  true  love:   she believes it exists. she also believes it is fleeting and not permanently attainable, therefore not worth pursuing with any amount of ambition.

opinion  on  love  at  first  sight:   if it exists, she's never felt it.

how  ‘romantic’  are they?:   any sort of romance from eliana hinges on her comfort. if someone makes her feel safe and valued, she's more likely to be vulnerable, flirtatious and generous with her time and affection. if you take care of her, she'll return the favor eagerly. without that safety, she's cagey and flighty, jumping at every heated look or soft touch. she will never outwardly/publicly appear romantic; she reserves that for time spent privately with her partner.

ideal  physical traits:   dark eyes. strong arms. attractive smile.

ideal  personality  traits:   she seeks out safety in people more than anything, so those who are kind and understanding always appeal. that said, she also likes a smart mouth and sharp wit. someone who can make her laugh and take her seriously is a must.

unattractive  physical  traits:   extreme lack of hygiene/general disregard for appearance. (you can take the girl from the vault, but not the vault out of the girl and all that ...)

unattractive  personality  traits:   arrogance. cruelty. callousness. unchecked pessimism. lecherous. overbearing.

do  they  have  a  type?:   not really. she more often finds herself attracted to women, but there's no specific box her romantic interests tend to fit in, beyond being generally good people. theoretically, she could fall for anyone who gives her the right attention and support in certain contexts.

average  relationship length:   a few months, at most. she rarely attempts to have full-blown relationships with people.

past  relationships?:   only two. chris and a brotherhood scribe (later member of the capital renegades when they defect) named june davis.

favourite canon  ship:  el + chris, duh.

favourite non-canon  ship:   they're all non-canon, but i've definitely toyed with eliana/amata in the past.

she gave up on her search for the brotherhood a couple weeks ago. not that she ever really fully entertained connecting with the western sect on their behalf. no, she'd just wanted an easy out. a way to disappear.

it's late in the afternoon when someone she hasn't seen yet walks into the wrangler: a woman who looks neither as down on her luck as most who wander in nor as if she's kicking around with the local ncr troop. el watches her from the table she's seated at. this could be promising ━ at least for a conversation. she can't remember the last chat she had that wasn't her telling some ncr soldier boy to fuck off, now that she thinks of it.

when the woman nears, she nudges the chair across from her with her boot. the bar area is pretty full, drawing in everyone trying to escape the heat or get drunk off their rocker before sundown.

“ want a seat? i promise i'm probably like the most normal person in here. i think i've even verified it. ”

“ terra. get down, ” eliana hisses, grabbing the back of her shirt and giving it a tug. a deathclaw lumbers nearby, grunting softly, but unaware of their presence so far, hidden as they are behind what's left of a car and some brush. at another point in her life, she would have run already or taken the deathclaw head on, if she had the ammo and leeway, but she was younger then, reckless and not trying to keep anyone else alive.

“ now. ”

“ you don't have to stick around, you know, ” eliana says, eyes flicking over to the hulking man traveling beside her. though not much for conversation, charon has already proven that he makes an excellent deterrent. still, she can't quite stomach the idea of keeping him around just so she doesn't end up super mutant food. it's selfish.

“ not on my account, anyway. i want you to do whatever you want. ” she doesn't actually know if he even can do that; when buying his contract, all she'd thought was that someone like azrukhal had no business owning anybody. she hadn't really considered the prospect of being unable to release her own hold on the mercenary, unless she dies, which, in fairness, she still might do.

“ i can even order it, if that would work. ”

her nose scrunches in distaste at nate's words. eliana's fingers curl around the long-dead foliage encroaching on the porch of a home in sanctuary, pulling it harder than necessary and tossing it onto the growing pile of burnt out sticks and weeds beside her. sweat glistens on her brow.

a scoff escapes eliana's throat, and she scarcely manages not to roll her eyes. instead, she fixes the ghoul with an incredulous look. he could be joking; in fact, she thinks he must be, but there's the faintest edge to his voice, like maybe, somewhere beneath his usual jackassery, he means it.

“ do you really think you're the only one special enough to kill and betray for your family? ” she asks. “ i'd toss you to a pack of wolves any day for mine. ” she checks over her plasma rifle, unloaded and laid across her lap.

she rarely dwells on what the outcome of their mission might be or if it ends in her favor. she supposes, as long as she gets to deal damage to the enclave, it matters very little, and, if he gets his wife and daughter back, it can be considered a grand success, regardless of what happens to her.

oasis offers a soundscape unlike any other part of the wasteland. a soft breeze doesn't whistle through rusted metal or stir up dust; it brings with it the soft rustle of leaves, the stirring of grass and foliage. she almost — almost! — could stay there forever, but its citizens strike her as too odd to live with full time. she does like harold, however, and marvels a little at how he is the least strange being living in the small settlement.

maybe that's why she can't quite stomach his request of her. she sits near him, a hand brushing over the soft grass. at his words, she glances up at him.

she wants to say she knows how he feels, but it seems too trite, bordering on disrespectful. she knows what it's like to want to give up, to heft burdens and live a life that already feels remarkably lifeless. yet, how can she possibly relate to decades spent that way?

“ no, i guess there isn't, ” eliana says softly. is that all life is, a constant waiting game for all the most precious things in it to be taken away? “ but it gives back, too, right? ” an almost frantic edge reaches her voice, as if she's seeking reassurance, rather than confirming a pre-existing thought.