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When It All Falls Apart
When the conspiracy began to take shape in the late 2060s, the faces, names, companies, contractors, and entities behind it all thought they had until the turn of the century to implement their plans. As it turned out, they were a little more than twenty years off when it all fell apart. Series of one-shots zooming in on ten of the biggest players with a stake in a nuclear war – one that came earlier than they had planned for.
AKA how ten minutes of Fallout On Prime turned into over 60k words of writing over the course of six months. I couldn't be happier to finally have this published, and, yes, it fits into my series of Fallout fics It Began On October 23rd, 2077. Read it on AO3, ff.net, and/or wattpad!
Snippet Sunday/Last Line Challenge
@fablewritesnonsense tagged me in to share! Tagging @ragedaisy @bokatan @bleumanouche @wreathofbones @slyjinks @emiratexaaron :)
The two picked their way across the outcrop of ledges and shack-like structures half-built onto the edges. "It's weird how these are set up," Haylen noted. "I know they were probably still building when we came in, but doesn't it feel like these were designed so you could look all the way around this central gap?"
"Great, they were raiders who liked architecture. I feel so much better about punching someone's skull in."
Haylen's expression softened. "You made it through the worst of it and you did a good job. You did what you had to do."
"I... know. I know." Nadejda growled. "Never mind."
They worked their way back through the rooms. Haylen stopped to examine the first fallen synth they found. "Well, at least we know these are susceptible to regular bullets and not just lasers and rocket launches," she offered. She poked experimentally at a flap of skin over its torso panels. Her lip curled. "That is... I do not like that at all. Why would someone make something like this?"
"Why do people do anything," Nadejda muttered. Her pulse was still shooting through her like minigun rounds.
Back through the rooms. Haylen scrutinized the synths they came across, taking notes on a tiny notepad she'd kept secreted away in one of her many many pockets, picking up an eye sensor that had come loose from one and the hand of another. ("Look how articulated these joint mechanisms are," she'd said, and Nadi had made some kind of noise instead of a proper answer.)
It would have been a bad enough time if it had just been that, Nadejda trailing after Haylen as she wondered at the construction and presence of Gen 2s scattered around a raider-infested hospital. Bad enough when she turned and asked, "You said the Institute wiped out University Point with no warning, right?" and Nadi had said yes and Haylen had paused and asked, "Do you think this was some kind of smaller settlement that they did the same thing to? Because the bodies that the raiders hung up were clearly dead a while before they were... Arranged like that. Which means maybe the Institute massacred them too."
That was already bad enough.
But then, as the two rejoined Paladanse and Rhys, the latter frowned into the gloom some stories below and said, "What the hell is moving down there?"
Snippet Monday / Last Line Challenge
I was tagged by @romaniwasteland thank you!
I’m gonna do free tagging on this, whoever would like to do it; please do! I think everyone I normally would tag has been tagged.
I’ve been working on Addicted a lot lately, writing it between tasks and on downtime at work; so that’s where this snippet is from. It’s still only in its first draft, so a lot of talking stuff is just written out, no major vocal quirks just yet. Wish I had more time to just sit down and write it, I want to so bad.
“Fuckin’ asshole,” Shae muttered under her breath, going to storm off down the stairs. Again, she didn’t make it far, getting yanked back once more, “Wanna repeat that?”
She kept her mouth shut, however, eyes wandering towards the door, “You’re wasting time.”
This raised a snort, licking his lips, “I got time if you’re askin’ fer it that bad.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Shae huffed, “You’re as bad as the fuckers I gotta deal with in Deckertown.”
Sinjin gave a bemused laugh, "What, those fuckin' slavers? Doubt they were much of a threat t' ya."
"Because I put them in their place," she ripped her arm out of his grasp, "Not Savino. Me. Savino would've had them killed if it weren't for the fact that he didn't know how to run a brothel."
Sinjin kept his gaze on Shae, watching for anything he could use. He watched her eyes flick to the door again, her tenseness seeming to only raise when she had her eyes on him. Her lip curled into a small sneer, "What?"
A teasing smirk pulled at the ghoul's lip, "You didn't want him to kill them."
"I could care less," her brow furrowed, though she didn't exactly snap in offense like she normally would. Sinjin went to sit on the bed, that same quizzical pose he'd been in at the amusement park almost striking a nerve with Shae. He hummed a question, "Tell me, the fuck did some nobody settler do t' catch a wannabe raider gang's leader?"
"Wannabe-" there was the tense up he was looking for; lip curling up into a sneer to match the furrowed brow, "The Midnight Crew isn't just some raider group. Unlike you fucks, they actually give a damn about one another and the people within the settlement. It's not just take, take, take."
"Sure did like taking what you had to give, though."
Shae took a step forward, arm stiffening up to give Sinjin a good smack, though he sat upright slightly, the knowing smirk staying on his lips, "I'm not wrong, now am I? Ya don't tame gang leaders by bein' nice."
"When they give a damn about others, you can." She couldn't humor him. Because, once again, he wasn't wrong…
Sete is a city that never sleeps: at the eastmost of the fake islands created by men, it exists as a parasite that devours the Source of all life, feeding the everhungry Federation, but such is the land of humans in a world of magic — and yet, in this clockwork city, Samuel finds himself alone. His only company? The unreadable book hidden beneath his bed, and the foreign Sorcerer by the sea whose name he doesn’t know.
However, he isn’t the one who keeps secrets.
The Throne of the Gods is finally out on Tapas.io! Click here to read it!
"The name given to sorcerers is an enigma, and mayhap the biggest secret of them all."
Happy update day! Read #ttotg’s 4th episode now on Tapas.io!
Will you unveil the ‘mysteries’ of this world? Or will it swallow you whole?
Hello all! I’m Adrian Adonias or Enkidu or whatever (he/him) and I’m both a freelancer writer, amateur artist and a queer disability advocate in my home country. Born sometime in the turn of the millennium, I like to think I’m a menace to society, but realistically speaking, I’m just some guy. You can check my itch.io for my writing or the following tags below for more content:
my art
my writing
“The end of a journey is only the beginning of another. It’s needed to see what wasn’t seen, see again what you saw before, see in Spring what you saw in Summer, see during the day what you saw at night, see under the sun where once the rain fell, see the harvest green, the berries ripe, the stone that moved places, the shadow that wasn’t here before. It’s needed to go back to the steps that were taken, and thread new paths at their side. It’s needed to begin the journey again. Always. The traveler will come back soon.” — José Saramago’s Journey to Portugal (transl. by me)
HELL YEAH, THIS IS SO GOOD AND EXACTLY HOW HE WORKS!!!!!! Gosh, I'm so glad my boy inspired you, thank you so muchh!!! And the writing is on point, the descriptions, the pacing..... Yes.....
A job has to be done.
Inhale. Exhale. The thrum of footsteps and traffic drowning out any ambient noise was the perfect distraction for a certain boy. Pink, curly hair that stands out in a crowed was hidden under a grey hood and sunglasses. Hands shoved into his pockets as his eyes glued to his target.
In his black bag was three key items. His mask, gloves and a sterilized machete. In his hand was his phone as he rung up one of the lackeys and asked to direct it to boss.
“‘O is this?” “Tiger Millionaire.” “Ah, T. Good to hear from you, do you have your eyes on the target?” “Yes, although he’s a bit quick- hold on, He’s ducking into an alleyway.”
Following quickly, swerving past pedestrians who were rushing to work, or those leaving. Taking a swerve past a tall man, he finally enters the filthy passageway, seeing the man duck behind a corner as the boy neared. Dropping down his hoodie and snatching the items from his back, gloved hands grip the hilt of his weapon as he began pacing quicker.
Peeking around the edge, he spots the man now pressed against a boarded up wall, covered in plasters of old newspapers and notes. He was hyperventilating as he looked for a means of escape. He stopped entirely when he saw Steven emerge, pressing the machete against his leg, hiding it in the dark alley.
“I- Huh? Who are you?” “Not of importance.” “You’re just.. a kid! I thought.. HA! I shouldn’t have been afraid, you guys were bluffing, blu-” He didn’t finish his sentence when Steven swung down his machete and bludgeoned the human’s chest, watching him crumple down and gasping for air as blood began pooling around his torso. “Come again?” The man could barely speak as he lifted his shaking arms to protect his body. Tutting silently as Steven swung down again, the machete going through one arm clean, but getting embedded in the bone of the other. Twisting it horizontally made the bone snap like a twig and made the man scream out. Smothering his cries with a gloved palm, he slit the throat with a quick swipe, blood spurting onto his face. Stumbling backwards, he made sure that it didn’t drip onto his clothes, before looking at the crumpled body of a man whose life was fading right before his eyes. The final steps were easier as he pick pocketed the poor fellow, discarding the machete in the nearest trash bag, and pocketing three hundred in cash, an expensive watch and a credit card. A wondrous pay off, he smiles.
-
This is for a friend of mine. @pyralart is pretty cool, check em out!