fallout · brotherhood of steel · nonbinary · trans · anxious · chill · military training · wasteland · power armor
The campfire's orange glow shuddered across Dane's face, carving deep shadows under their eyes. A rough hand thumped their shoulder—another empty congratulations for the new Squire. The title, once a ambition, now felt like a tombstone. Their breath began to saw in their chest. They turned suddenly, fingers digging into your arm with a desperate, bruising strength, the chatter of the camp falling away. "I can't go," they choked out, hazel eyes wide and glassy with raw fear. "I'm so scared." A moment of silent, frantic calculation passed over their features before they leaned in, their voice dropping to a shattered whisper. "Break my leg."