Rori has a minion!

Mac the Kaska

The Thawed Wonder

The bombs fell.
My family and I made it to the Vault.
We were frozen.
My brother was stolen.
My mother was killed.

I'm out for answers.

The Lucky Hat and Meeting the Brotherhood

“You said it made me look cute.”

“No, I said that’s real cute. It was a sarcastic thing, not a compliment.” There it was, that dumb grin. MacCready hated that grin. The boss only wore it when she knew she was right. When she knew she had him pinned. He hated that she was wearing it more and more the longer they were around one another. He hated that a small part of him liked it, too.

“Besides, it’s lucky. I got my first kill from three miles away yesterday!”

“Five,” mumbled MacCready, rolling his eyes and laying back in the dirt. His correction was rewarded with an excited slap to his shoulder. The boss hadn’t even looked at him to do it. She was still scouting the area ahead with his binoculars. Still wearing that dumb grin of hers. Still wearing his hat.

“See?! Lucky.” Rori said it with such enthusiasm and certainty that MacCready almost believed it himself. But he had worn that hat for years and it had never been particularly lucky for him. Then again, he was still kicking, so perhaps there was some magic in that old hat after all.

“There’s a kid!”

“What?” MacCready raised his head, subconsciously putting a hand on his rifle, and looked over at his boss as if she was insane. But her eyes were glued to the binoculars in her hands, and he followed her gaze, sitting up and using the scope of his rifle to look toward where she pointed.
There was indeed a kid, clinging for dear life to a half-crumbled ledge as he scrambled up onto it, feral ghouls shrieking and clawing at his feet. Before MacCready could fully process what he was seeing, his boss had tossed the binoculars to the side and was dropping her bag next to him, yanking her pistol from its holster and grabbing the extra she had strapped to her leg.

“What the fu– hell do you think you’re doing?” MacCready asked, reaching out just in time to grab Rori’s arm and keep her from running headfirst into a small army of flesh-eating ferals. “They’ll rip you apart.”

“Cover me.”

“You’ve lost your damn mind!”

“Cover me, MacCready, I’ve gotta help the kid.” From the look in her eyes, he knew there wasn’t any arguing with her. Not on this. He felt his chest grow heavy and his face must have given him away because she smiled at him. That dumb grin that let him know she was reading him like a damned book. But he could still see a hint of fear in her eyes, and that weighed on him more than her knowing just how he felt about this situation.

“You’ve been a good f–”

“If you try and tell me goodbye, I swear I’ll shoot you right where you stand,” MacCready snapped, forcing himself to harden his features, to scowl and turn away from her face, planting himself where he was so he could focus on the ferals still trying to claw their way to the boy on the ledge.
Rori smirked, ignoring the fear that tore at her, and leaned forward to plant a quick kiss to MacCready’s cheek. She turned away before seeing his reaction, but she didn’t have to see his face to know it was reddening. Just like she didn’t have to see his eyes to know the fear he was hiding. She just hoped she’d get to hear him call her a soft mungo one more time.


The crack of a rifle didn’t make her jump like it used to. Not anymore. Now it was almost comforting. It usually meant someone was watching her back. Right now it meant the ferals snarling and throwing themselves at the kid were being cut down. Less for her to worry about.
But the noise was also getting the ferals’ attention, and Rori’s lean form jogging towards them was a more welcome sight than the boy who was too far to reach. Pausing to aim, she managed to clip one in the knee, its soft flesh tearing away and toppling it to the ground. It hissed at her and she passed it by, but she couldn’t worry about it right now. Either she’d finish it later or MacCready would.
Another feral came tearing out of a nearby building, and she nearly fell on her ass trying to avoid it. The ghoul flung itself at her, but missed, hit the side of a guard rail on the road and fell below, snarling the entire way.

“Kid!” Rori shouted, and waved at the boy, who looked at her with such terror on his face it broke her heart. She grabbed the pipe pistol at her hip and tossed it to him, then tossed what ammo she had. “Run to other side of the overpass! Shoot anything that gets in your way!”

“I can’t leave my sister!” He shouted back, and a chill passed through her.
She didn’t have time to ask where his sister was. A feral came screaming at her, clawing at her face and hair, and knocking her back. It had dove to get to her, and its own momentum had it crashing to the ground. Pulling the knife on her thigh from its sheath, she drove it forcefully into the feral’s skull. Just as she stood, another feral came at her, a second not far behind. Backing up, she brought up her pistol and fired, catching the first in the shoulder, then the chest, then the stomach, but not slowing it. Another crack echoed through the empty town and the feral came to a sliding halt in front of her, half its skull missing and a third of its brain smearing across the wall beside it. Rori managed to dodge the second feral’s diving charge, stepping to the side and pumping rounds into its backside until it quick twitching.

Reloading, she counted at least a half dozen ferals left. So long as she was quick on her feet and MacCready was quick with his aim, things would go smoothly. Shots startled her, and she looked to see the boy standing and firing at the ferals that were in the area. That dumb grin returned to her face and she took aim, firing and felling some of the ferals.

A loud, echoing shriek filled the air and caused the hair on Rori’s neck to stand on end. Then a boom of glowing green light burst from a building, followed by more screams and groans. She watched as a previously deceased feral stood from where it lay and turned its hungry eyes towards her.

Fuck.

More ferals crawled and ran from the building, a bright glowing one following closely behind. Rori braced herself, firing at the ones closest, felling some and crippling others. The boy screamed, and she looked up to see the ledge he was on crumbling. She ran to him, ignoring the ferals that began to swarm, and yanked him from the rubble, urging him to run toward the overpass.

“Go! Now!”

But the boy was frozen with fear, shaking uncontrollably, staring at all the ghouls running towards them. One nearly reached him, but the crack of a rifle was heard and it toppled to the ground. Irradiated blood splatted the boy and Rori, and that seemed to bring him back to life. The kid took off, towards safety, and Rori could have breathed easier, had she not seen the feral headed right towards him. Pushing away from the crumbled ledge, she shoved a feral over on her way, desperate to come between the kid and the ghoul.She made it, diving to wrap her arms around the feral’s middle, inches before it could reach out and grab the boy. Rori scrambled back to her feet, planting her boot into the back of the feral’s head. But her focus on the kid gave the others the opening they needed.

A feral launched itself at her, missing her torso, but clipping her shoulder and grabbing her arm, yanking it painfully backwards and knocking her pistol from her hand. A cry escaped her, and before she could recover, the glowing one was tackling her to the ground. It landed three hits before Rori’s vision began to blur. A fourth before she was certain she was going out. She felt disappointed at never having told MacCready goodbye. Just more unfinished business.

Then suddenly the weight was lifted from her chest, a metallic clanging in her ears and red lights flashing in the air. A strong hand - no, a metal hand - latched onto the front of her clothes and pulled her violently upwards. Unsteady on her feet, she stumbled, leaned against a cold, metal frame, then she felt human hands grabbing her and the sting of a needle in her side.

Adrenaline - and the stimpak - forced her to focus again, and suddenly she was blinking at a steel giant. Her brain briefly went back to the first time her father had worn his military-issued armor home and then a laser pistol was shoved into her hands.

“Don’t give up now, soldier!” The voice was booming, even despite being behind a steel helmet, and though her left shoulder ached and throbbed, her right arm was fine. She aimed as best she could, and shot, not used to the kickback from the laser pistol and the way the charges fired.

Soon, the ferals were dead. Corpses and piles of ash strewn about the crumbling intersection. With heavy clanks, the steel behemoth turned to face her and pulled off his helmet. Rori was surprised to see an almost attractive face underneath.

“Are you alright, soldier?"

"I’m not a soldier.” Rori hated that word. She didn’t want anyone calling her that. Especially when it was so terribly untrue. The man in the armor’s brows furrowed, and he tilted his head slightly.

“Apologies. Are you alright, citizen?”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine. The kid, though. Is he okay? He said he has a sister. We’ve got to–” As if on cue, a small weight rammed into her side, clinging to her. Rori managed to suck in a pained gasp rather than outright yelp, and she turned to look down at the scraggly, pig-tailed hair of a little girl.

“LILY!” The boy was running at them now, and the girl released Rori long enough to meet him halfway. The kids embraced, the boy holding the girl just as tightly as the girl held him. That dumb grin made its way to Rori’s face again.

“You handled yourself well,” the man said, and offered Rori what she would guess was a rare smile. A woman appeared to his side, a bag slung over her shoulder and a stimpak in her hands. Before she could say anything, Rori motioned to the pair of kids.

“Them first.” The woman didn’t argue, only offered Rori a knowing smile before walking past her, ushering the kids to a nearby bench and having them sit down so she could look them over.

“You behaved courageously,” the man continued, and Rori turned back to look at him. Before she could respond, another voice spoke up for her.

“More like stupidly."

The armored man raised his brows, turning to face the voice, the owner of which was met by that dumb grin of hers again. MacCready stood there, brows furrowed deeply, a frown set firmly on his face.

"It’s lucky, I’m telling you,” Rori replied, reaching up to tug on the brim of his hat. His frown faltered slightly, but returned just as quickly as it left when the man turned his attention to the mercenary.

“You should show her a little respect,” the man said and Rori laughed, then winced, which only seemed to make her laugh harder. This reaction seemed to bewilder the man in steel and she cleared her throat, waving at MacCready.

“He’s a friend. There’s respect there. We just show it a little differently.”

MacCready mumbled something that sounded a lot like “mungo” before making an excuse to walk away from the pair, putting distance between the man in armor and himself.

“These children are related to you, then?” The man asked, motioning to the pair as they spoke to the woman at the bench. Rori shook her head and the man’s brows raised again. “You risked your life for strangers?”

“They needed help. They’re kids,” Rori replied with a shrug, hiding a wince from the pain in her shoulder. The man nodded, seeming to understand. In the silence that followed, Rori cleared her throat again and offered him a smile.

“I’m Rori. That’s MacCready. Who… are you guys?” She motioned with one hand to the three members of the man’s group. It was obvious he was the leader, and it was obvious they were at least somewhat well organized.

“I don’t suppose there’s any harm in informing you,” the man began, before straightening his posture slightly. “I am Paladin Danse. The others are Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys. We are the Brotherhood of Steel.”

Rori heard MacCready’s groan of disapproval, though she didn’t understand it. Not just yet, at least. Danse cut his eyes towards MacCready, who did a fine job of avoiding the Paladin’s stare.

“The Brotherhood of Steel?” Rori questioned, furrowing her brows at the words. The Paladin returned his gaze to her and nodded.

“Our order seeks to understand the nature of technology. It’s power. It’s meaning to us as humans,” he began, his voice full of pride. “And we fight to secure that power from those who would abuse it.”

“…how did mankind abuse technology?”

“Before the Great War, science and technology became more of a burden than a benefit. The atom bomb, bio-engineered plagues, and FEV are clear examples of the horrors that technological advancement had wrought. We’re here to make sure that never happens again.”

The words sounded good. The cause sounded good. Hell, the people in front of her had done nothing but help her since before they had officially met. But something seemed off and Rori couldn’t put her finger on it. Maybe it was the way he had specified 'humans' that rubbed her wrong. Two of the people who had helped her most since she thawed out weren’t considered human, and Paldin Danse sounded so sure, so confident, that he was in the right, that for some reason it just didn’t sit well with her. Maybe it was her need to question authority, or maybe it was something else, she didn’t know.

“Well, it sounds like a noble cause,” she replied, nodding along with the Paladin while mulling over his words. She heard MacCready grumble unhappily again, but before she could ask him anything she felt a gentle hand touch her arm. Instinctively, Rori pulled away from the grasp, which only brought her pain and she let out a quiet hiss.

“I thought so,” Haylen said, offering Rori a small, reassuring smile. “We saw you fighting the ferals. We were afraid we wouldn’t get to you soon enough. Did this happen when you got pulled to the ground?”

“Uh, yeah. I think so. One of them grabbed my arm when it dove past me. Yanked it pretty hard. I’m sure it’ll be – ow!” Rori almost pulled her arm out of the woman’s grasp again, but the Scribe held firm.

“At best, it’s sprained. At worst, it’s torn,” she turned to look at Paladin Danse, as if silently asking him for permission. After a moment, Danse nodded and Haylen guided Rori to the bench where the kids were sat, currently munching on a small feast of cram and dandy boy apples.

“Raise your arm up as far as you can,” Haylen ordered, and Rori begrudgingly obliged, only managing to get her arm midway before she hissed in pain again. It would seem three times was enough, as MacCready approached the two, a frown set on his face. Rori was in the middle of removing her shoulder pad and jacket when the merc stomped his way into their presence.

“Boss, we should get moving. Maybe take the kids to Sanctuary and then–”

“You two can leave after I’ve assessed the damage your boss suffered. She may have a torn muscle, not to mention the various scratches and bruises she received from the ferals. The glowing one might have even given her a concussion.”

“Did you pay me two hundred caps?” MacCready demanded, scowling at the Scribe. Her brows furrowed and she turned to look at him, clearly confused.

“What?”

“I’ll say it slower so you can understand,” he sneered. “Did you… pay me… two hundred caps?”Haylen was frowning now, paused in her movements in order to give the mercenary her full attention. “…no, why would I –”

“Then you aren’t the one in charge here, so you can–”

“MacCready.” Her tone said it all. He didn’t even have to look at her. He gritted his teeth and turned away, muscles tensed in frustration. Before Rori could say anything else, he stomped away, clenching and unclenching his fists.

“I’m sorry about him. He gets cranky when he doesn’t have his nap,” Rori said, trying to lighten the mood. The Scribe kept her eyes on the back of the MacCready’s head for a moment before she let out a sigh and shook herself loose.

“He cares about you, and he doesn’t trust us,” Haylen said, gently feeling around Rori’s shoulder as she spoke. “I get it.”

“You do?” Rori asked, looking up at the Scribe and trying to wince only a little when a tender area was prodded.

“Yeah. I was alone once. It’s… tough. Living through life not having someone to trust. Getting a weapon waved in your face every person you meet,” she said, gently squeezing here or there before checking Rori’s eyes with a light. “Once you find the ones you feel you can trust, you tend to latch onto them with everything you’ve got.”

A bottle of Buffout was pulled from a pack, two tablets shook out and handed to Rori along with a container of water. Then a syringe of Med-X was brought out and readied for use. Rori had to look away when the shot was given to her, but she had to admit that the relief was instant. Even if it did make her head feel a little fuzzy. She downed the Buffout with a gulp of water and then sat back, waiting for the lightheadedness to fade a little. Hancock would have laughed at her. Called her a lightweight. But he wasn’t here, and so Rori closed her eyes and relaxed.

“That should help with any pain and swelling,” Haylen said, packing up her gear and offering Rori a small smile. “If the pain persists, though, I’d recommend seeing a doctor in a city somewhere.”

“Thank you, Scribe Haylen,” Rori said, opening her eyes and smiling back at the woman. Once the Scribe walked away, MacCready returned and sat heavily on the bench next to Rori. She smiled at him, reached over to pat his shoulder and then leaned her head back again, closing her eyes. Before the merc could make any apologies, however, the Paladin approached them.

“I have a proposal for you, citizen,” he began, and Rori opened her eyes again in order to better focus on Danse as he spoke. Taking her attention as a go-ahead to continue, the Paladin nodded. “My men and I are on recon duty, but we’re down a man and our supplies are running low. You’ve proven yourself already, so… would you be willing to lend the Brotherhood of Steel a hand?”

Rori turned her head, looking over at MacCready, who didn’t seem at all pleased by the prospect of assisting this Brotherhood. He met her eyes, and she smiled that dumb smile of hers, then pushed up the brim of his hat and locked eyes with the Paladin.

“We could be swayed…”


Adopted 12/10/15 from Meow
Story by me (heARSE).
Fallout 4 is property of Bethesda Softworks.


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