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[vocalistyodels]

PSLs, Meme Overflows and whatever tickles the fancy.

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Continuation from TFLN for okeydokies

[vocalistyodels]

[Hey now, Dogmeat isn't his dog. Dogmeat just... follows them around. She's a free doggy spirit!

She's also fearless, barking and facing the gecko head on, putting herself between it and Lucy. Cooper is loading his revolver with an explosive round, watching as the vaultie and Dogmeat hold their ground. At least until the damn gecko has a go at her, maw biting at one of Dogmeat's legs which gets a bite in return.

They part, both in pain and that's his cue to march in, gun held up to blow the damnable gecko's head to bits. He'd apologize about the splatter, but well. He's not much for apologies.]

Not coyotes then.

[A glance at Lucy before he moves to kneel down beside Dogmeat, checking out her wound.]

Not a bad spot to camp since we've cleared it out.

[Hey, Lucy. Are you okay? Not hurt? Glad we got here in time! None of that of course.]

[okeydokies]

[ Definitely his dog. Maybe even his friend if they want to go there.

But that's neither here nor there. She's got a situation at hand. She wonders how her life has become this. All these mutant animals that are so much bigger than they're supposed to be are apparently dinner worthy. She's about to cue up another shot, but suddenly her face is splattered with gunk and blood.

She stands there with a blank look for a beat. She slowly lowers her gun and makes a face. She moves over to check on Dogmeat. ]

Is she okay? [ Genuine worry threads her voice. She pulls a handkerchief from her pocket to wipe her face clean. ]

[vocalistyodels]

[Now let's not use such big words like friend.

And being covered in blood and viscera is just every other day out here. No fancy showers with clean water to jump into after a hard day of being out in the wastes either. Hell, he can't remember the last time he took a shower. Nice and hot and felt like it washed away all the dirt and sins.

But that's neither here nor there. Dogmeat whimpers as he checks out her leg, it's bleeding, but it could have been worse. Reaching into his coat he'll pull out a stimpak, feels like a waste using it on a dog, but she pulled her weight... and maybe he didn't like seeing her in pain.]

She gonna be.

[In answer to Lucy's question before he carefully injects it into her haunch. To her credit Dogmeat doesn't make any fuss at it and her tail starts to wag once he's done. A gloved hand will smooth over her back, petting the dog with what might just look like a genuine smile.]

There we go, fit as a fiddle. You girls handled them critters alright.

[With a scratch behind Dogmeat's ears he'll push up to his feet.]

After all that fuss think it's time for some chow.

sorry for the delay!

[okeydokies]

[ She's lucky she's not hurt. She's certainly bruised and has some scrapes, but nothing as bad as Dogmeat. Still, she's relieved when she's easily fixed up with the help of a stimpack. She wipes her hands on the pants of her jumpsuit then pushes the hair from her first. She turns to look at the fallen carcasses. ]

Where do we start?

[ She's still learning. She knows she's dreadfully out of her depth with survival outside of her vault, but she's always been a quick learner. ]

we can both be sorry! slow poke time lol

[vocalistyodels]

[Cooper has to give her one thing, she pops back up after bullshit real good. With a crooked smile he'll move over to one of the geckos, getting down on one knee as he pulls out his knife.]

This one'll be easier to cut into missing it's head, but typically the stomach is easiest to cut into. That or starting from under the armpits and opening em up on the softer parts of their sides here.

[He trails the knife along where he mentions, giving her an idea of how to go about things.]

Their hides can sell for some decent caps if you feel like bothering, but there's easier ways of doing that.

[The ghoul goes for cutting it down the middle of it's stomach. Pulling off his gloves and stuffing them in his belt for now, so they don't get covered in bile and blood, he'll open the lizard up to expose it's organs.]

The heart and liver make good eatin', lot of the innards could be too if you ain't squeamish about it.

AU PSL for havetoadapt

[vocalistyodels]

[After getting a second "meeting" with Lucy's father he'd gotten the answer he'd wanted for so long. It... wasn't an exact answer, even Hank didn't know the exact location of the vault his family was in. Just an approximate one. Viejas Mountain Trailhead in Alpine. It felt random to him, but maybe that was the point.

Some place he'd never think to look, as if they'd built the damn thing just to hide from him, even though he knew that was foolish. Of course he still couldn't explain when or how they'd left the one he'd brought Janey to originally. He'd ripped through that damn thing till there was nothing left to look in or under. Nothing. Not a damn thing gave him even a inkling of where to look. Lucy had been his first real link to them in hundreds of years. They'd parted ways after he'd gotten his answer, though he had a feeling it wouldn't be the last time he'd see her. So it was just him and Dogmeat now, footing it to Alpine. It's too quiet without the vaultie around, though maybe it wasn't right to call her that anymore, but he'd gotten used to the quiet, wouldn't take long again.

There's not much besides more sand and dirt, plants trying to grow but they're sure as hell not flourishing. Hank had said it was "around" the trailhead somewhere. It takes a good week to find the vault entrance, they'd hid it well, but it's not looking good from the start. It's wide open and it's clear it's been abandoned. Not as long as most vaults, but there's no one left besides rad roaches and other pests that had wandered in over the years. There much more left for him to gather through left behind notes and journals on the still working computers. Rising panic of the vault running low on power to sustain them for much longer, something had gone wrong... but it's not the words that give him hope, it's the small room, still neatly kept, with a familiar hat, still pristine, sat on a shelf with books and other knickknacks.

If not for the wear and tear of the years, his own matched it, though doubtful anyone would notice, but for him. Careful gloved hands pluck it up, as if scared to touch it, gently turning it over to look at the inside where "Janey" is written in a childish cursive. Cooper has to take a moment to sit on the bed that he assumes she slept in at one point, gingerly holding the hat in dirty gloves that leave dirty prints against the perfect off white color. Looking from it to Dogmeat, who's having a curious sniff nearby, he'll whistle for her to come over.]

Gonna need that nose of yours. Suppose to be heading east according to the chatter in here, but... think you'll be the one to find exactly where.

[Dogmeat tilts her head as if understanding some how what he's asking, maybe she does. Who the hell knows. Taking the hat with him he'll head out of the vault, knelt down to offer the hat for Dogmeat to get a good sniff of.]

Find the scent girl, go on-

[There's an edge of desperation, something he wouldn't let others hear, but Dogmeat wouldn't tell. Getting her nose into the scent real good she'll then sniff around, slow, trying to pick out that specific one from all the others. It's faint, but- with a bark she takes off and another long trek begins. Longer than he'd have thought, but some how the damn dog seems to continue to find Janey's scent no matter how far they walk. Over the damn mountains and into ruins of homes and streets, much like any where else. But looming in the horizon there's buildings still standing tall, but hardly as grand as they once was. As the sun sets, there's lights twinkling and hell. It's another wanna be Vegas strip.

They arrive as the sky is dotted with stars and the night is pitch black, strolling into a place with a slapdash sign lit with lights. The Outlet. Guess it's about as catchy as the The Strip. As they're heading in Dogmeat barks, alerting and Cooper watches as she trots off. He'll follow, but keeps his distance. She's clearly caught the scent again, nose down following it. It takes them into the old run down outlet mall that's been repurposed into some kind of city, it's busy, there's plenty of people and some ghouls too... at least he won't stand out too much.

Dogmeat's head pops up, tail wagging as she seems to find her mark, heading over to a young woman and nudging her snout up under her hand to say hello.]

[havetoadapt]

[Trouble is a way of life in the Wasteland. Trouble, and danger, and death. A way of life that had taken Janey a little while to get used to. More than a little while. Not that she had much choice. The world that had been dying around her as her dad had ridden as hard as he ever had, to get them to safety, to get HER to safety, had been dead for centuries, now.

She’d been a child when she went into cryo, and still a child when she’d come out. That hadn't lasted very long. She’d had to grow up quickly. Learn how to adapt. How to defend herself. How to balance what she had known, and what is, now. Doing what’s right, and doing what you have to in order to survive aren’t always the most compatible.

But Janey does her best. Tries her best.

She’s translated the roping skills her dad had been teaching before everything had changed into being a quick hand with a whip. Learned her way around knives, and guns. Even if she doesn’t like them much. It’s the other skills she prefers. The ones that allow her to get into and out of places without much notice. Fix things. Lets her find work as a courier, a mechanic. Keeps her in caps, and keeps her travelling. (Lets her keep searching.)

She stays on the move, as best she can. Tries to avoid drawing attention to herself. It doesn’t always work. But it seems to be working currently. For however long it lasts.

Janey’s mostly trying to keep to herself, when there’s a sudden nudge at her hand and she’s glancing down in surprise. She hasn’t seen many… well, animals the way they were before the bombs. They’ve been few and far between since she set foot back into the world. So to see a dog, for the first time since Roosevelt…. her face absolutely lights up, and she kneels down to properly greet her, reaching out to give her pets.]

Hello, girl.

[vocalistyodels]

[Cooper watches, feels the real first pang of fear he's felt in a long damn time. Well, like this at least. There's the fear of dying, of not finding Janey first, turning into some mindless feral before he ever sees her again.

Then there's this. Standing there, trying not to look obvious, watching from under his hat as Dogmeat works her magic. Watching the young woman, looking at her features, her voice... god, hope is such a foreign thing to him at this point, but seeing her. That smile as she kneels to pet Dogmeat-

She looks just like her mother. Which hits something else inside him, but that's not for right now. Right now he's fighting with how to handle this. Does he just go up to this young woman and expect her to know who he is? He might be wearing the same outfit Janey last saw him in over 200 years ago, but with all the grime and wear no one would be able to tell. Would she recognize his face? Now changed by radiation, turned into something so far from what he used to be.

The only thing that might still look like him are his eyes. He can't remember the last time he was this afraid, but he's spent all this time living to get to this point. So he moves, boots feeling heavy as he walks over, spurs jingling to announce him.]

There you is, Dogmeat. Running off making friends with pretty young things?

[It's hard to drop the persona he's built around himself too, The Ghoul, it's still safer to play that part for the moment.]

She never did learn not to speak to strangers.

[Dogmeat just wags her tail happily.]

apologies for the delay, wanted this tag to be just right

[havetoadapt]

[Janey is almost immediately wary, at the approach of someone else. She tries to see the good in people, but she’s also learned to be pragmatic, since she’d come out of cryo. Since she needed to survive in the world that was left. She’s been fortunate. But the dog – who’s name is Dogmeat (and that’s just… both a horrible name and makes a great deal of sense), likes him. Seems to trust him. And animals are a better judge than people, sometimes.

It helps, too, that the moment she looks up at him… there’s something about him. There’s something about him that’s familiar. The drawl, the attitude… It prickles at her, something urgent, pressing. A ghost she can’t quite put her finger on. A ghost she’s afraid to put her finger on.

She’s rising to her feet, a slip of a girl almost half a foot shorter than he is. Her hand still resting on Dogmeat’s head.]

Not speaking to strangers is an important skill to learn.

[One that she hasn’t appeared to learn either. Only she’s not sure that he is. Without thinking, she takes a step closer to him, dark eyes staring at him like she’s trying to figure something out. Searching his face. Wishing that stupid, insistent shred of hope that lives inside her chest would just... stop, sometimes. The hope that lets her still believe that he’s out there somewhere. That she can find him, if she just keeps searching.

Wondering if she’s just fooling herself, wanting to find her dad so badly that she’s seeing familiarities that aren’t there.]

Do I know you?

[It’s spoken softly the words slipping out before she can stop herself.]

no worries! been a little busy on my end too and I'll wait forever~

[vocalistyodels]

[God but she's grown. Last he saw her she weren't so tall. Strange now that he can look her in the eyes without looking down so much. She's looking at him now, as if trying to solve a puzzle. Can she see the remnants of her father looking into his eyes?]

Mayhaps.

[Shifting from one foot to the other he glances around, it's too busy out here. Too many people. He doesn't want whatever this ends up being ruined by too many eyes watching. Any other time he's happy to make a scene, but this wasn't for anyone else.]

Client of mine's been looking for you for a long time, sweetheart. Had me hoofing it all over the goddamn wastes.

[He tilts his head at her, watching from under his hat.]

That is if you is the girl he says you is.

[The ghoul nods at Dogmeat then.]

Her nose says you is.

Witcher AU for licensetotrill

[vocalistyodels]

There's an inconspicuous door towards the back of Lady Iosith's estate. Perhaps once it was an extra guest bedroom, but for years now it's been used for more interesting reasons. Collections of all sorts of things, items for alchemic purposes, experiments and the like. Books and scrolls liter shelves and a desk. Then in the back corner is a naked and wretched looking creature, chained to the wall.

It might even be dead. Some days Cooper wished he were, that the damnable witch would just let him die. From her own mouth she'd told him many times that she'd been given orders to dispose of him if he came snooping around, looking for information, but she just couldn't help herself. Why bother wasting what was so useful?

He'd fought to escape for days, weeks, until his body didn't have the strength. The chains that held him were bound by some magic force as well, but even if they weren't at this point he barely had the energy to move. He sits in silence, listening to the noises coming from other rooms. The hallways. She's brought someone here, from the sounds of it another lover. Another poor sonuvabitch that might end up his dinner for the next month. He doesn't even know how long he's been here, the windows are covered in drapes so thick sunlight doesn't pierce through even during the day.

And if he could tell the time, by now he'd probably have lost count regardless.

[licensetotrill]

Jaskier knew Lady Iosith was a sorceress, and not just because of the "magic" she had performed in the bedroom. She'd been very open about that, and it hadn't been even remotely a dealbreaker for Jaskier once she made it clear she wasn't interested in throwing her powers around to scare him and seemed to find him quite charming.

Powers, yes. She also had very impressive 'powers'. Her bodice could barely contain them.

Oxenfurt was quite close to Aretuza, witches came through there all the time - teachers, alumni, recently graduated students. And with their lack of aging it was never quite easy to tell which one someone was.

...Or where he was now, exactly. Her home, obviously, but she'd portaled them there which was quite fancy and only left Jaskier slightly queasy. Not near enough to halt any of the activities for the evening at all.

So very many 'activities'.

He'd been rather dead to the world after, sprawled out on her extremely plush bed. He only barely stirred when heard her rising, half listening as she took some kind of magic call. Not the specifics, she spoke too softly for that, but he did hear it end with a sigh and a 'very well, this had better not take long, I have guests' before that familiar whoosing sound and the weird feeling in the air that made Jaskier's teeth itch that signaled a portal had her making an exit.

He would have been content to just go back to sleep, but other biological demands hand him getting up anyway, and then he was awake. Why not have a look around? He tugged his trousers on - not bothering with smallclothes or more than the ties necessary to keep them from falling off his hips. He'd have gone naked but he learned his lesson last time with surprise children in a house thank you very much.

Jaskier had found the pantry and grabbed himself an apple as he walked around, peeking in rooms, checking out windows to try and figure where they were. Unsure, mostly a lot of forest and mountains outside. Probably farther north, he'd guess. Ugh, he hated the cold. The guest room was of course not locked, why would it be?

So Jaskier really was not expecting the sight he beheld when he pushed it open, mid-bite of an apple as his eyebrows shot up.

Huh.

[vocalistyodels]

Huh, indeed.

The sound of the door opening at first doesn't make him stir, it's just that bitch coming to use him for her wicked ways again. Or maybe not, maybe she just wanted to sweep in and give him any hope she might feed him, the craving and hunger ate away at his very being.

... but after a moment he realizes it isn't her. The footfalls stop after the door opens, the sound of breathing is different, their heartbeat off from hers. The creature's eyes open, body still all for the slide of them over to the man that stands there in surprise at what he's found. If he hadn't been on the menu for his next meal, he sure was now. Snooping around and finding out what Iosith was doing, her not so secret room of magical horrors. This man was going to be the main course.

Cooper shifts, the sound of his chains in the room loud compared to the stunned silence of the man. He looks like a corpse come to life, a ghoulish thing, with no hair and heavily scarred skin, nose nothing but a hole on his face. Truly unpleasant. A horrid noise comes out of him as he tries to clear his throat, unused and dry, when he does manage words they're gravelly and sound almost painful to get out.

"... I'd tell... you... hn, tell you to run... but s'all already... too late..." He figures Iosith will know some how that this man has snooped where he shouldn't, no doubt she'll be around soon to dole out punishment. A wicked part of him looks forward to being able to eat, even if it'll only be just enough to sustain his life. Nothing more. This man does look like he'd make a delectable meal, all soft skin and full of life.

[licensetotrill]

'Why does she have a corpse chained up in her guest room?' was Jaskier's first thought, followed shortly by the realization that this was definitely not a guest room anymore. He might not know what half of these things were, but spending enough time with Geralt (willingly) and Yennefer (unwillingly) and Jaskier had become rather good at not only instantly identifying 'magical things' but being able to broadly tell what some of them did.

This room was full of 'don't touch that's, with a side of 'if you see this in anyone's workshop, run'.

Actually, the more Jaskier looked, the more he found quite a lot of the second.

... Lot of bones, too. Like, more than the average amount a person would decorate with?

Oh god the corpse was moving. Jaskier almost dropped the apple, mouth agape as it - he, oh, that's definitely a he - spoke. Even then Jaskier had the insane urge to deny that he would somehow be killed for finding this room. He'd like to, but he was pretty sure there were at least two human skulls in here, still stained from being inside a person.

"What is - what is she doing here? To you? Who are you?"

He almost asked what, but that could come later. He would have thought a ... what did Geralt call them? A wight, or a ghoul, but neither of those looked (or smelled) quite accurate. And neither talked.

Witcher AU - A Bloody Snack

[vocalistyodels]

The bard has recovered from his pesky fever and they've been making good time for the past week. In fact things have been going too smoothly. As smoothly as it goes hoofing it through the snow and wind, but they've stopped in a town to spend a night under a proper roof. With a proper bath. After being ill the bard deserved to take a hot bath, trying to clean up on the road in the freezing cold hadn't really been his bread and butter and Cooper couldn't blame him. Especially after how much he'd sweat through his clothes for a few days.

The room wasn't big, in fact it barely fit the bed and fireplace, but it would do. The bard would have to share the communal bathing area, but at least there was hot water and he could wash his things. A glorious day and even more wonderful evening as they had a bed to sleep in, one bed, but they'd gotten used to sleeping in a small tent on the road. Sharing a bed would be nothing.

The problem came while Jaskier was downstairs bathing, no doubt having a grand time, that Cooper was upstairs in their room. Mostly to keep a low profile what with how he had to hide his face, citing that he was under the weather and would retire early. It's not completely untrue. He doesn't feel well, but it's not an illness... it's a craving. The hunger. He'd run out of the cuts of meat he'd taken from Iosith some days ago, but so far he'd been fine. It wasn't like he had to eat it every day after all, but it had been too long, it was starting to gnaw at him, his mind and he felt... weaker. Not nearly as bad as when he'd been chained up by the witch, but if he continued on like this it would only get worse.

The craving, that hunger would become something he couldn't ignore. Jaskier would be in danger around him. So he's pulling his things back on to head out, opening the door just as the bard is coming back from his lovely warm bath.

"Hn... I'm going out." Said as if that explains anything.

[licensetotrill]

Communal or not, Jaskier could not get into the bath fast enough. He always felt decidedly gross after a sickness, and not being able to wash up and needing to suffer through the literal cold had made him often unsure if he actually was recovered or not. Really, he had a persistent cough that only finally seemed to go away when the steam from the heated water got into his lungs as he relaxed as long as he possibly could in the water after a generous scrub down. A little sweet talk and some extra coin (Jaskier's own) and the proprietor's wife even agreed to put his clothing in with the wash that evening to be ready in the morning. He was pretty sure a fair amount of pity had been involved, given the state of him and that cough of his. That was fine, he did not have enough pride to be above playing up 'sad pathetic wet cat'.

It left him with just a spare set of braies and undershirt to wear until then, but he didn't exactly need to go out into the cold. He had every intent to spend the rest of the time huddled under several blankets. No need to even emerge to eat after that - he was bringing up two bowls of the dinner from the tavern for the night, which was several winter roots seasoned and roasted with a little bit of boar meat. Honestly, it smelled delicious, but that could be because he was finally getting his apatite back. His hair is still lightly damp as he blows some of it out of his eyes, making his way up to the room just as the door opens and Cooper steps out like he's leaving.

"What-? I brought up dinner though. It smells good now but I don't rate its taste once it goes cold."

[vocalistyodels]

Cooper looks down at the food, huffs a little at the comment about the smell and taste. It doesn't matter to him either way. His eyes do wander along the open V of that undershirt the bard wears, at the soft skin, still slightly damp... he can imagine how warm his blood would be, how his flesh would taste in his mouth-

His eyes snap back up to Jaskier's face, blinking rapidly for a second as he pushes those thoughts away.

"Eat for the both of us, that won't fill me tonight." He puts a hand on Jaskier's shoulder meaning to move him out of the way of the door.

PWP Because We Can for licensetotrill

[vocalistyodels]

Like the coming and going of the tide on a beach, eventually they wash up on the same shore again. Paths crossing as they do. More often than not they end up in a room some where, acting like horny teenagers.

He will give Jaskier that much, he does make him feel young again in some ways. Pulling off his duster he'll dig into the pocket inside it, before tossing it over the back of a chair. A reused dented can that used to hold cram in it is what he produces. It's poorly taped up in what could probably be mistaken as a homemade bomb or grenade, but thankfully for the both of them it's not that, as the ghoul gives it a little shake which makes a rattling sound.

"... so when's your birthday, birdie? Or hell, whatever holiday you folks celebrate gift giving for where you from." For all he know his birthday could have already gone by, not that it mattered. It was just a lame silly excuse for him.

[licensetotrill]

Jaskier raises an eyebrow at the dented can, but he's sure Cooper will explain it sooner or later and it will likely lead to entertainment. They're good at entertaining and amusing one another that way. Gods, Jaskier can't get enough of him. Like a bad habit, but it's not bit him in the ass so far.

"Name day? You're either very late or very early - mine's at the start of spring," he explains, already sitting down on the bed and kicking his boots off.

[vocalistyodels]

So far. Cooper can't judge too much, he's got quite the addiction to the bard as well. A man needs his vices to keep living this long, something something, it's not like he likes him or whatever.

The can is as pretty of a box with a bow that Jaskier is going to get from the wastes, the bow is just duct tape keeping it closed. The ghoul walks close to the bed, shaking the tin to get Jaskier's attention before he gives it a toss to him.

"Then happy early late name day or whatever." Very charming, Cooper. Once Jaskier manages to get the lid of the tin off he'll find something shiny and cold. Metal of some sort. It's clearly hand made, cobbled together from other bits and bobbles into something new. There's an almost delicate chain that is connected to two small clamps. Clamps that have what seem to be weighted down with some heavy dangling decorations. He'll let the bard's imagination do the thinking.

[licensetotrill]

Jaskier almost fumbles the can but manages to catch it with both hands, a little alarmed for a moment like he's worried it's going to break??? But it doesn't. Even if he's of the opinion that most gifts shouldn't rattle so alarmingly. It takes some doing to get the tape off - duct tape is a whole new world of experience for him, so there's that. When he does manage to get it open, his confusion does not immediately abate.

What the hell is... It's the dangly bits that make it click together for Jaskier, his expression going from puzzled to interested, eyebrows raised.

"Cooper, is this what I think this is...?"

From TFLN with shoppingcart

[vocalistyodels]

From here!

[Oh someone was down bad.]

depends what you consider ok
she got all four limbs
head on her shoulders
pretty eyes still in their sockets

but now that's just part of the ghoul package
lotsa times more than just the nose comes off, plenty lose all the soft squishy parts
like the ears
hell some even missing their more sensitive bits

[The nose really is the least of anyone's worries when it comes to being a ghoul.]

maybe if he's lucky he'll keep his hair

[shoppingcart]

you didn't hurt her?



How do you kill a ghoul? You lose your hair and you can get shot with an arrow thru the throat??

[vocalistyodels]

gonna be a big man and protect her honor or some shit?

she ain't so bad at handling herself

[Well. She's learning, but some how she's still alive. Color him surprised and impressed.]

you kill a ghoul like any other motherfucker
we're just a little more tough is all

[shoppingcart]

I don't need to protect her. I just know what you are, is all.

Like jerky?