“Do you think I am an automaton? — a machine without feelings? and can bear to have my morsel of bread snatched from my lips, and my drop of living water dashed from my cup?
Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain, and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong! — I have as much soul as you — and full as much heart! And if God had gifted me with some beauty and much wealth, I should have made it as hard for you to leave me, as it is now for me to leave you.
I am not talking to you now through the medium of custom, conventionalities, nor even of mortal flesh: it is my spirit that addresses your spirit;
just as if both had passed through the grave, and we stood at God's feet, equal — as we are!”
Group Verses I need: Wild West AU where Veronica is the madame of a Western city Brothel and basically controls the town in tandem with the the partnership of a more or less ‘retired’ sheriff’ who is like the ‘acting’ law while Veronica basically controls all else.
She smiled, pleased that Veronica appeared ignorant to the specifics of her exploits in the Capital Wasteland. Living up to the heightened expectations people developed for her because of her Lone Wanderer background had never been easy for Eliana. Regardless of Three Dog’s ramblings about her, she was nothing special.
❝ Sort of. It wasn’t as extravagant as people made it sound, ❞ she replied with a shrug.
❝ But I do agree with the nickname being cheesy. If it makes it better, I didn’t choose it. ❞ Dubbing her the Lone Wanderer had never made sense. In most of her travels, she’d been accompanied by others. But, it was the early months she spent alone that had earned her the name, and it had stuck.
Her gaze wandered to the turret that Veronica had been messing with.
❝ Trying to better the defenses here? ❞ she guessed, gesturing towards the machine.
❝ Turrets have been effective in Sanctuary so far, but they seem to work best in combination with a human guard. ❞ She glanced speculatively around the lot, surprised to find it rather barren as far as people went.
❝ If you don’t have the resources for that, robots work pretty well, too. You could probably build a few with the right equipment. ❞
“That’s the plan. Though I ain’t one t’leave the garage much so buildin’ tends t’be a bitch when I run outa supplies.”
She pauses leaning over once more, a free hand smoothing over the cloth of the dress she’d chosen to wear today as she gazes into the compartment she’d been fiddling with. Perhaps she was better served just letting Rowdy take over it but she wasn’t about to let that woman mock her about he ineffective tactics as a mechanic.
“I ain’t really one t’listen t’JimJam’s ramblin’s. He just kinda goes on and on ‘bout it sometimes. Man’s fulla problems and complaints ‘bout the Capital Wasteland and the shit job that dumb fuck at the head a the brotherhood. All I can say is, I got too much shit t’worry ‘bout t’be sittin’ ‘round bitchin’ ‘bout all the shit that fucker does.”
She pauses, her focus going back to the machine she was tinkering with. It always helped her think straight. Hell if it wouldn’t help her now. She’s only paused in her speech just long enough to turn back to her and shrug.
“…HE WAS more than just great- He united the Capital wasteland, MOST of it anyway. He was a brave, and courageous man. I miss him.”
“I miss my pops too…”
She trails off quietly at her explanation as she seems to visibly lower a bit. She almost instantly regrets asking though she knows she wanted to know ultimately.
“That’s just how life is. I tell myself not to get oil on my shirt and when I finish work, there’s oil on my shirt. It’s just out of our control, you know?”
“ ‘least I can try t’do it. Lucky fer me I got a special recipe for fixin’ it so I ain’t worried.”
