i; arrival; pretend the world has ended [There's so much green - healthy green - when he comes to that he is sure - s u r e that this is either the highest he's ever been, or he's finally gone and bit the big one. Maybe he'd finally done it, gone feral, and someone put him down. Because the Commonwealth has its green, most of it from fallout and radiation, to be honest, but there's nothing there quite like this. Trees that are alive and healthy and there's no tingle of radiation and...
Honestly, at first he's content to just look around himself a moment and not ask questions. If he's gone feral and gotten his brains blown out - or what's left of 'em, anyway, well. Fuck. There are worse places he can imagine as the afterlife. There are birds in the trees, but their songs sound different, less...Broken. Less twisted, maybe.
He's still not entirely sure it's not a comedown, though, but whatever. If it is, it is, and he'll just ride this last wave to the crash at the end.]
Well, would you get a load of this fucking place. [He takes a moment, turns in a circle where he stands, still fixated on the green.]
That preacherman in Diamond City liked to go on about the hereafter or whatever that churchy shit was he was preaching but I never thought he was right. [Not with a world like theirs.
But he's not alone, which is the next thing he notices. He's still not sure it's not a hallucination, but...Well, he can work with it. Like he really has anything to lose, whichever scenario it is.]
You're seeing this right, all this green?
ii; tortuga; you wear troubles well [So it's not sky high and it's not the afterlife. Well, the jury's still out on the second part, but he's got the sneaking suspicion John Hancock is alive and well and in a place that's never been touched by radiation. And despite the shantyness of the town below the forest, it seems more put together than the settlements in the Commonwealth; less slapped together from salvaged scrap and more purposely shitty.
He can dig it.
He's even dressed for the occasion, if the way anyone else looks is any indication, though it's a b s o l u t e l y clear most (read: all) of them have never seen a ghoul before. That's their problem, though.
So far, however, he has been unsuccessful in exchanging caps for goods, they want gold and if he'd known that, gold's fucking everywhere in the wasteland. It's useless. As far as he knows, gold-based currency went out when the bombs dropped and while that leads to some mindblowing implications, he's just not that lucky.
He's been watching one particular building - he's pretty sure it's a brothel or a whorehouse or something - simply out of lack of anything better to do, leaned against what looks like a blacksmith's, when one particular normal human gentleman who looks worse than Hancock could any day of the week walks by and actually physically recoils when he gets a look at his face. Normally he's fine with it. Normally, he lets it roll off his back - he did this to himself. But it's been a long day, he's entirely too sober for this shit, and he still has no idea what's going on, and bares his teeth in a grimace.]
john hancock + fallout 4 + gentle test drive
[There's so much green - healthy green - when he comes to that he is sure - s u r e that this is either the highest he's ever been, or he's finally gone and bit the big one. Maybe he'd finally done it, gone feral, and someone put him down. Because the Commonwealth has its green, most of it from fallout and radiation, to be honest, but there's nothing there quite like this. Trees that are alive and healthy and there's no tingle of radiation and...
Honestly, at first he's content to just look around himself a moment and not ask questions. If he's gone feral and gotten his brains blown out - or what's left of 'em, anyway, well. Fuck. There are worse places he can imagine as the afterlife. There are birds in the trees, but their songs sound different, less...Broken. Less twisted, maybe.
He's still not entirely sure it's not a comedown, though, but whatever. If it is, it is, and he'll just ride this last wave to the crash at the end.]
Well, would you get a load of this fucking place. [He takes a moment, turns in a circle where he stands, still fixated on the green.]
That preacherman in Diamond City liked to go on about the hereafter or whatever that churchy shit was he was preaching but I never thought he was right. [Not with a world like theirs.
But he's not alone, which is the next thing he notices. He's still not sure it's not a hallucination, but...Well, he can work with it. Like he really has anything to lose, whichever scenario it is.]
You're seeing this right, all this green?
ii; tortuga; you wear troubles well
[So it's not sky high and it's not the afterlife. Well, the jury's still out on the second part, but he's got the sneaking suspicion John Hancock is alive and well and in a place that's never been touched by radiation. And despite the shantyness of the town below the forest, it seems more put together than the settlements in the Commonwealth; less slapped together from salvaged scrap and more purposely shitty.
He can dig it.
He's even dressed for the occasion, if the way anyone else looks is any indication, though it's a b s o l u t e l y clear most (read: all) of them have never seen a ghoul before. That's their problem, though.
So far, however, he has been unsuccessful in exchanging caps for goods, they want gold and if he'd known that, gold's fucking everywhere in the wasteland. It's useless. As far as he knows, gold-based currency went out when the bombs dropped and while that leads to some mindblowing implications, he's just not that lucky.
He's been watching one particular building - he's pretty sure it's a brothel or a whorehouse or something - simply out of lack of anything better to do, leaned against what looks like a blacksmith's, when one particular normal human gentleman who looks worse than Hancock could any day of the week walks by and actually physically recoils when he gets a look at his face. Normally he's fine with it. Normally, he lets it roll off his back - he did this to himself. But it's been a long day, he's entirely too sober for this shit, and he still has no idea what's going on, and bares his teeth in a grimace.]
That's a good way to get yourself dead, friend.