Every morning the maple leaves. Every morning another chapter where the hero shifts from one foot to the other. Every morning the same bigand little words all spelling out desire, all spelling out You will be alone always and then you will die. So maybe I wanted to give you something more than a catalog of non-definitive acts, something other than the desperation. Dear So-and-So, I’m sorry I couldn’t come to your party. Dear So-and-So, I’m sorry I came to your party and seduced you and left you bruised and ruined, you poor sad thing. You want a better story. Who wouldn’t? A forest, then. Beautiful trees. And a lady singing. Love on the water, love underwater, love, love and so on. What a sweet lady. Sing lady, sing! Of course, she wakes the dragon. Love always wakes the dragon and suddenly flames everywhere.
I can tell already you think I’m the dragon, that would be so like me, but I’m not. I’m not the dragon.I’m not the princess either. Who am I? I’m just a writer. I write things down. I walk through your dreams and invent the future. Sure, I sink the boat of love, but that comes later. And yes, I swallow glass, but that comes later. And the part where I push you flush against the wall and every part of your body rubs against the bricks, shut up I’m getting to it. For a while I thought I was the dragon. I guess I can tell you that now. And, for a while, I thought I was the princess, cotton candy pink, sitting there in my room, in the tower of the castle, young and beautiful and in love and waiting for you with confidence but the princess looks into her mirror and only sees the princess, while I’m out here, slogging through the mud, breathing fire, and getting stabbed to death. Okay, so I’m the dragon. Big deal. You still get to be the hero. You get magic gloves! A fish that talks! You get eyes like flashlights! What more do you want?
I make you pancakes, I take you hunting, I talk to you as if you’re really there. Are you there, sweetheart? Do you know me? Is this microphone live? Let me do it right for once, for the record, let me make a thing of cream and stars that becomes, you know the story, simply heaven. Inside your head you hear a phone ringing and when you open your eyes only a clearing with deer in it. Hello deer. Inside your head the sound of glass,a car crash sound as the trucks roll over and explode in slow motion. Hello darling, sorry about that. Sorry about the bony elbows, sorry we lived here, sorry about the scene at the bottom of the stairwell and how I ruined everything by saying it out loud. Especially that, but I should have known. You see, I take the parts that I remember and stitch them back together to make a creature that will do what I say or love me back. I’m not really sure why I do it, but in this version you are not feeding yourself to a bad man against a black sky prickled with small lights. I take it back. The wooden halls like caskets. These terms from the lower depths. I take them back.
Here is the repeated image of the lover destroyed. Crossed out. Clumsy hands in a dark room. Crossed out. There is something underneath the floorboards. Crossed out. And here is the tabernacle reconstructed. Here is the part where everyone was happy all the time and we were all forgiven, even though we didn’t deserve it.
Build me a city and call it Jerusalem. Build me another and call it Jerusalem. We have come back from Jerusalem where we found not what we sought, so do it over, give me another version, a different room, another hallway, the kitchen painted over and over, another bowl of soup.
The entire history of human desire takes about seventy minutes to tell. Unfortunately, we don’t have that kind of time. Forget the dragon, leave the gun on the table, this has nothing to do with happiness. Let’s jump ahead to the moment of epiphany, in gold light, as the camera pans to where the action is, lakeside and backlit, and it all falls into frame, close enough to see the blue rings of my eyes as I say something ugly. I never liked that ending either. More love streaming out the wrong way, and I don’t want to be the kind that says the wrong way.
But it doesn’t work, these erasures, this constant refolding of the pleats. There were some nice parts, sure, all lemondrop and mellonball, laughing in silk pajamas and the grains of sugar on the toast, love love or whatever, take a number. I’m sorry it’s such a lousy story.
• this blog is a highly selective, private, && exclusive portrayal of courier six from fallout: new vegas.
• i won't follow everyone back, and will only interact ic with mutuals. that being said, everyone is free to im me, mutuals or not.
• as a general preference, i won't interact with too many duplicates, & will become fully exclusive upon request.
• this blog will occassionaly feauture nsfw / potentially triggering content. i will tag it to the best of my ability. if you need something specific tagged, please just ask! i'm fine with tagging literally anything except swearing.
• i love ships of any kind. romantic, platonic, enemies, i'm all for it. if you ever wanna discuss a ship with me, i promise i'm probably already on board.
• my name is maz. she/her pronouns. i'm of age. i have bpd & anxiety which can sometimes hinder me in regards to ic activity / ooc communication. mutuals can add me on skype @ anneboleyns, or discord @ karenpage#2239
NAME: karònya
ETYMOLOGY: from the mohawk word meaning "sky"
NICKNAME(S): six, grim fucking reaper
AGE: 23
GENDER: cis female
ORIENTATION: biromantic bisexual
SPECIES: human / cyborg
BIRTHDATE: unknown date, year 2258
PLACE OF BIRTH: exact location unknown, presumably somewhere in the mojave desert.
RESIDENCEY: nomatic, mojave desert / new vegas strip
OCCUPATION: courier for the mojave express / overseer of new vegas
LANGUAGES: english, asl ( modern verse )
HEIGHT: 5'2"
WEIGHT: 107 lbs
BUILD: small, but well muscled, especially in the lower body.
EYES: dark brown, almost black. full & seemingly depthless.
HAIR: brown, long & straight. either hanging freely or in two braids.
SKIN: swarthy, full of scars. freckled, especially on her shoulders.
OTHER: post old world blues dlc, her brain, heart, & spine have been reinforced with highly advanced technology.
KARMA: neutral ( +210 )
S.P.E.C.I.A.L: s7 / p4 / e9 / c6 / i4 / a9 / l7
TAG SKILLS: melee weapons, lockpick, speech, survival
REGULAR PERKS: cherchez la femme, black widow, bloody mess, ferocious loyalty, toughness, cowboy, terrifying presence, piercing strike, unstoppable force, action girl, lead belly, life giver, silent running.
OTHER PERKS: khan trick, old world gourmet, fight the power!, tribal wisdom, tunnel runner
USUAL COMPANIONS: rex, boone.
COMPASSION: 6/10
EMPATHY: 4/10
CREATIVITY: 8/10
MENTAL FLEXIBILITY: 9/10
PASSION/MOTIVATION: 10/10
EDUCATION: 4/10
STAMINA: 9/10
PHYSICAL STRENGTH: 7/10
BATTLE SKILL: 8/10
INITIATIVE: 9/10
RESTRAINT: 6/10
AGILITY: 8/10
STRATEGY: 9/10
TEAMWORK: 5/10
• combat pragmatist
• determinator
• the dreaded
• had to be sharp
• you are number six
• rebellious spirit
i. ain't that a kick in the head.
main verse. set any time during the course of the game. after being shot at point blank range & then buried alive, courier six of the mojave express is hellbent on crossing the wasteland to find her would-be murderers. ( independent new vegas ending. neutral karma. only good legionnaire is a dead legionnaire. )
ii. i don't wanna set the world on fire.
modern verse. karònya is a smuggler, specializing in the transportation of illegal arms.