Aniphine

When she’d brought the brute of a mutant to Sanctuary originally, Preston had been hesitant. After some time to reflect, he’d decided it was a good idea to have the General well protected, and at the very least, when those two weren’t together, Strong provided solid protection for the town. But then she couldn’t even get along with the creature, which created an issue. An issue that came in the form of a very angry Super Mutant that couldn’t be calmed – not by any citizen, and not by the very person who had convinced him to settle to begin with. “Look, General, I think it’s important that you

The flickers of ruined light reached up to the dark sky; darker than it had been in generations before and as dark as it might be for many following. A sound carried, hollow and distant, over the crackle of indiscriminate fire, dotting the wreckage with light like the last flickers of life on the ruined planet. The gentle fizz echoed through the decimated city in a low hush, just stronger than the shallow breaths his lungs wispily drew in; just quiet enough that it rang in his own ears. Sound came like breaths of wind, growing and then waning with the tempo of Shepard’s dying heartbeat. Distant and indiscernible nouns, adverbs and fer

The rebel was just too fast. The assassin they were warned against, the one that came in and out of the public’s eye only long enough to take a life, had been faster than he’d ever seen. His head lulls idly to the side, and pain shoots down from his throat like fire pressed to his skin. His comrades lie dead and blank eyed on either side of him, but there he was, remaining. The blade of the white cloaked death must have missed its mark by only a breath. But not to its discredit, because he could feel the life slowly draining out of him as his blood seeped onto the cobblestone. The soldier tries to roll to his side in a futile ho

David Kane, you told me with a quick nod of your head. Sounded like a stage name to me, but who am I to judge with a name like mine? Sunshine Smiles... I'm sure it was cute when I was little. You weren't a cowboy. Oh, I had seen plenty of them before. Sure, you had the hat and you walked with that signature look to you, but you weren't no Brahmen-busting wrangler. But you weren't a blockhead mercenary either. Mercenary, yes, but you didn't fit the bill for the kind I had seen around here before. Didn't stop me from keeping an eye on you though. Because I knew your kind. You think you're the badass of the town and everyone should back off.

Lone blinked hard in an attempt to break the trance she fell into watching the water. A dull ache pressed insistently against her skull at the action, under the skin of her temple, where she was sure a bruise was forming. Her hand moved further under the water so it washed over her palm, but the thin layer of dark blood staining her skin remained; even as the clear water turned murky running down the drain. Her other hand raised to rub her skin clean and the water ran a dark, filthy color; her skin turning shades lighter as layers of blood and dust disappeared. She watched in dull wonder as her skin changed from the sickly red to a dull brow

"Are you kidding me? I'm a Model of Selflessness." Sara proclaimed, her easy set eyes not betraying a hint of doubt in the statement. She relaxed back in the worn chair, stained a lighter color by the exposure of time and radiation, and crossed her leather clad leg casually over the other. "Really?" Lone scoffed in return, her eyes narrowing derisively, but the lightness of her voice didn't show any true resentment. "I could list a thousand different things. Like, for a small example: look how you're always ordering Charon around." "But he's my zombie manservant, that's what he does. If I take that away, it'd kill him. We all have our lot i

It started off as just making a point. America expected England to see reason after he showed he was capable himself. England always managed to make a statement with brute force -- by not taking anything but results in return. England thought America was bluffing -- being obnoxious little brat and eventually the colony would get over it. Arthur found it simply annoying. He didn't take it seriously. Their voices rang harshly in the confines of the small colonial home. America's once meek and innocent voice was now convicted and sharp. "It's just not fair! I have people, I have lives being affected! I have a right to be heard. I have a voice

Charon kneeled down beside her; the gentle sound of his metal knee braces clinking against the tile flooring going unheard as his ears were all but deaf. Unhearing and unwilling to spare attention to anything than what was before him. His hand reached out, moving under the petite woman's shoulder gently as though she would shatter any moment. He wasn't sure she wouldn't.  His hand snaking underneath her, he took her by the shoulder as he had before -- sudden flashes of the memory in his mind; drunken and unconscious, wounded and moaning, tired and lazy. But it was so different now. He could feel it. Sara's body was limp to his touch and he