moosejuice (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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bakerstreet2016-04-25 07:53 am
moosejuice) wrote in bakerstreet2016-04-25 07:53 am
At the end of all things.
a post-apocalyptic shipping and smut meme  Calamity makes strange companions, but when the world's gone topsy turvy, beggars can't be choosers. The world has ended, apocalypse is nigh, zombies are here, the evil empire has won, or you've crashed into a hostile planet...all roads have lead to the same ugly place. Survival has become your only goal, and two heads are less likely to be on the chopping block than one, so no matter if you're a people person or a lone wolf, you've found one other survivor - or they found you and gave you little choice - to be an extra lifeline and source of safety. Your life before fades away into the gray. What remains is the drive to live through this, day by day, though you at least have someone to watch your back and help you with the grueling tasks before you. Of course, the mind is a strange thing, which means even when tunnel vision comes standard with your troubles, thoughts and feelings can get jumbled. Relying on someone is a form of intimacy, perhaps an ultimate form, and could lead to dependency or other deep, conflicting feelings...feelings the two of you may just keep shoving deep down because that line of thought is far from safe. Not the right place. Not the right time. Repress it. Until you just can't anymore. tl;dr: "Two people are partners in a post-apocalyptic or other dark/"rough" setting who have been traveling together for a long time, depending on each other for survival. They've also been ignoring the unresolved sexual tension/attraction between them. One night while taking shelter, they finally give in and have sex even though they shouldn't, or they worry about how it will affect their partnership." HOW TO PLAY
OPTIONS
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Rin Tousaka | Fate/EXTRA | OTA
Ingrid Bernstein | Freezing | OTA
John 'Reaper' Grimm | DOOM | m/f
i mean, they're both based on video games? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ au'd her into john's canon kinda
Before everything went to hell (literally), she'd had a family. A husband, a daughter. Granted, she'd been the one in the marines, and they'd been the ones that leaned more to the scientific side of things, but they made it work, got along. A pretty sweet deal for someone like Texas.
And then of course, everything went FUBAR. They got separated. Tex knew there was a chance they were still alive - but Tex had lived a hard life, and it'd been too long without any information on or about them. Chances were they were dead. (Worst deal was, they were infected).
So she went on alone. Picked up armor and ammo as she could, stopped using her real name and stuck to her callsign. It was hunting for medpacks that she'd run into the guy. Said his name was Reaper. Travelling alone, or so it seemed. Sounded like a callsign, looked like old marine armor, but different unit than hers. She'd gave him her callsign, and that was that, no questions asked.
She wasn't fond of travelling in groups, because that'd ended so well before, but two people could sneak around all right, and that worked for her.
They're holed up in what used to be a barracks, doors barricaded. They're doing a double check for ammo, food, medpacks, armor, but she's sure the place would have been stripped long ago.
"How many mags you got left?" She asks instead, wondering why she's wasting effort on picking the lock of a footlocker.
sounds good to me!
Mostly because what's out there is also inside of him. He just didn't go bad.
yet.
"Four."
Sam's somewhere out there. He has to believe she is. He's given up on trying to save the world. That's a lost cause. But Sam - he can still save his sister.
He can pretend there's a chance in hell he can still save his sister.
Reaper doesn't do well without goals.
"And a half," he corrects it a moment later, adding the clip he's got in his gun to his tally as he methodically flips mattresses off of metal spring cots in the hope that man's oldest hiding place might still have some habitual secrets left. His other hand never really leaves the gun strapped across his chest.
Two goals. He has two goals now. Find Sam.
Keep Tex safe.
Keep her close and safe. It's that other side inside of him that hungers after the close part. Lack of companions for so long, too long in the silence of his own mind -
and she's a female. One that can kick ass right next to him. The other inside of him likes that, is attracted to that, craves after that.
Reaper does too.
But he also knows that kind of thing isn't for him, not even at the end of the world and so he focuses on what's on hand, finishing his search of the beds and moving to the lockers at the end of the room. Inhaling scents though his nostrils, all but tasting them, enhanced senses riot with new input and tense.
"You?"
no subject
So she plays dumb about that. Marine, after all. Easier to pretend you didn't see it. Plus, she likes Reaper; maybe more than she should, potentially being a widow and all, but you don't spend a while with someone, trusting them to watch your back, without developing something. And Texas was never the best at not having straying eyes.
"Three, and most of a mag in the rifle. Pistol's got six shots left in it," Texas admits after a second. Bullets, you have to be pretty stingy with. Headshots are the most effective way to dispatch someone. She's done her share of neck cracking, too, but it's dangerous to get up close. Texas doesn't want to get bit, doesn't want to find out whether she'd die or turn into one of those sons of bitches.
(She has a feeling about which it would be, anyway, and it wouldn't be death.)
Her rifle's slung across one leg as she picks at the lock, her pistol on her hip. They're at hand, but she trusts Reaper to watch her back. The lock clicks open, and Tex chuckles to herself.
"Wanna take bets on this being a bunch of porn?" She asks as she pops the lid open, glancing to Reaper. Maybe they'll get lucky, since the lock hadn't been left open.
Paladin Danse | Fallout 4 | ota