Name: Howard / F6-33

Gender: Male, Straight

Age/DOB: visibly around 30, chronologically 8, unknown DOB

Origin: Vault Earth, Institute

Family: girlfriend Willow

Other: as a Synth, technically speaking he has a specific tie to the leadership of the Institute, as well as numerous genetic donors, but also as a Synth, it's not really known whether he's a fully fertile member of the settlement or even humanity, but he and Willow are actually hoping he is...

Height: 6'2"

Weight: 170, muscular but not well toned, he's healthy from being mainly in the Institute for the first five years of his life, and reasonably fit from running from it since then...

Hair: black, natural tight afro, usually kept very closely cropped, also has a goatee equally well maintained by Willow's insistence...

Eyes: deeply brown, quite keen and observant

Appearance: he's had several body and surface sculpts, but he's usually been dark-skinned as shown, he is handsome and has a good bearing for interacting, a deep and pleasant voice; he has full lips and a broad nose; he does wear Institute-based clothing, he's not afraid to admit that he likes them better than the shabby weird things that Trinity brought with her

Genetic Abilities: none overt, but since he's a Synth he has a strong resistance to radioactivity, poisons, and bruising damage. He certainly used this to his advantage when escaping with three others from the Institute, and he knows that he's also slightly stronger and faster than a typical person, but doesn't let that become a talking point. Of note he does have exceptional senses, which is why he's decided to concentrate on skin and eye issues at the Settlement, he can detect a slightly wider range of color, and can both feel and smell peculiarities in patients

Icarus Processing: none, but being created entirely out of genetic material found in the Institute has its benefits - and its problems, since now he also has to be careful that his Synth Component isn't accessed by anyone untoward

Image Credits: Bethesda

Events or History: F6-33 was his designation, when he came out of the production tank. He remembered being given his clothing and a curt, cursory examination by the technician, and told which direction to go. He'd followed directions for ... uncountable days. They were uncountable not only because they bled together with monotony, but because there was no sun, no moon; no day and night beyond what was programmed into the Institute's domed interior. The born men and women largely followed a routine of waking and sleeping, but there were always some that got up early, or stayed up late. Then there were the ones who firmly believed that Synths like himself 'didn't need sleep' - or that their dreams were merely side effects and not the same as their own. He did resent those folk, he and a good number of Synths all but shouted their feelings to those 'learned men'... Shouts which fell on deaf ears. But Howard, well, F6-33, went with B2-57, Y9-15, and Z3-22 into the great unknown above at their first opportunity. Together, they overpowered the pair of Generation 1 guards that had been assigned to their group, and ran for cover. It was only a matter of time before the guards were supposed to check in and less than two days before they were meant to come back anyway. The radio silence would worry the chief of 'retention', Ayo, but they'd arranged something in the meantime to keep him... busier than normal.

Before Levi arrived, a series of escapees left and were recaptured, or proven dead, or any number of other fates. After he came... well, they weren't 'escapees' any more, he let them leave of their own free will. But in the meantime, F6-33 and his friends needed to stay low and avoid detection. As a precaution, once they broke free from the choke hold of their skeletal robotic guards, the foursome carefully aranged for raiders to 'find' the small camp and shoot it up to provide adequate reason for the group to be 'lost'. It happened constantly, anyway, but production of Synths was equally constant. So they ran again and again. From pond to scrap yard, from bloodbug filled swamp to creaking urban ruins. It was in those ruins that they discovered they had a friend in one settlement: Bunker Hill's trade caravan owner.

From him they learned of the Railroad, and it was a complicated and dangerous journey for all of them, as the Brotherhood of Steel fought over the city and made even the skies rain down lead. But eventually all of them had reconstructive surgeries, and agreed that they would remain 'aware' of their prior lives. Now that Levi was in charge he wasn't going to be allowing Ayo to ruthlessly hunt Synths any more. But they did want to remember where they were from, unlike many of those that came before them. Lost among the regular folks in the Commonwealth and beyond, without real memories of who they had been? No thanks!

He got a new name, they all did: Howard, Randy, Leslie, Rhianna. They tried out their new lives just a little, just a taste of what might meet them, by heading through the city under more or less safer appearances and circumstances. In Diamond City, they met a number of both good people and typically arrogant jerks, and finally they... found friends willing to give them a chance as a team over in the Wakefield settlement.

Howard hit it off with the slender, pretty Willow in Diamond City, and wasn't surprised when her mother and friends scoffed at her desire to leave the place for a new settlement. But they did, and Willow never once balked when she learned of the group's origin.

The most she ever did, in fact, was ask whether it was scary coming out of the Institute. Howard trusted her - and still does - with his own command codes. Those codes could shut his brain down, with a jolt of chemicals and electricity from that damnable Component. She would never use them, in fact it's likely she's actually forgotten the code itself, in favor of just living with the man she loves.

When they heard of Wakefield, it was to the tune of needing basic settlers to help till the soil and keep folks safe. But now they were hearing: need medical and social assistance, want traders and scrappers and...

Well, medical and social? Howard and Willow have that covered for sure. He was quite surprised and happy to learn that they had a full surgery setup in addition to many other near-Institute level goods in this weird Vault-above-the-ground of theirs. He could easily prove that he had the skill and experience to handle day to day issues, as well as operate that weird 'phoropter' thing. Eye conditions? Oh there were plenty of those in the Commonwealth, it was always dusty from the rust and ash, people were always breathing in who knew what from the toxic pools still lingering around. Burning themselves on fusion cores picked up after battles with those tread-bodied robots.

So Howard had his job cut out for him.

And then that other weird bombshell dropped. There were dragons? Real dragons? Trinity and Deja sat the group down one evening, when the kids were mostly asleep in the upper chambers. They pulled out a slide show, knowing that not everyone could read, but everyone could figure out symbols and look at the amazing pictures. Obviously to Willow this was a dream come true: it was like her comic books! Howard had only started reading those, he barely knew that such things were imagined by people. Having been created and expected to serve only the needs given to him? No one in the Institute offered a Synth a comic book.

But the pair of dark-skinned women in funky costume armor, the girls arranging the entire Settlement, had proof that dragons existed, and they were offering these people, Synths and all, a chance to have one as a mount, a pet, or even an equal-in-mind. They did say it was an experiment, that maybe it would be more trouble than it was worth. But the group at hand realized that it would be the chance of a lifetime, maybe everyone's lifetimes, to have dragons at a settlement.

They came huge and small, snake-like or bird-like or cat-like or... so many different configurations. Howard and Willow looked over the information that Trinity offered them eagerly. They heard that some of the farmers and a couple of the guards would want to find ones that didn't fly, that were low to the ground, maybe not for being beasts of burden, but because most threats in this world were on the ground now. And who could possibly refuse the idea of having something bigger and meaner than a Deathclaw on your side?

"How did you get all this together?" Was a common question that evening. Turned out that both the women were collaborating with some people from an even more distant 'version' of Earth. (Howard noticed a few folks getting downright lost when that came up, yes there must be more than one, not here and now, but ... just like in those comic books!) They could take folks from the settlement into whatever distant place had the right kind of dragon for their needs.

So Howard and Willow together looked at those printed pages, assembled so much like a comic itself (she corrected him, they were like a sourcebook), and decided to head to one specific place. It sounded familiar by the brief information blurb: a war torn and post-apocalyptic location so similar to this one... But with dragons. Would they ride them? Would the dragons hunt in the radioactive wastes here and bring back treasures lost in the cities? Sure! Why not. But in the mean time they would need people to guide them, and in turn protect the settlement and their individual bonds from harm. Dawn Watch was the location, and Howard wondered whether he could learn new medical tricks from the locals there to bring back to Wakefield!

***

*some from hatching*

Howard certainly had learned quite a bit, in their time waiting for these colorful eggs on the black sands to harden. For instance, that they were laid soft-ish, that they hardened with heat and care, and that... the dragons within were already smart enough to realize when a human (or... well, other) was nearby. Somehow, they detected people, even people like him. They had gone past the eggs on a number of occasions, each of the varied candidates allowed to softly run their fingers over an egg or two, usually it meant only one held their attention, however. He had felt a strange warm hum from the one egg, it felt... not like a machine thrumming, but that was as close as he'd ever gotten - maybe likening it to a slumbering cat would have been better, but he'd never had a cat asleep on him before, and didn't know that they 'purred' like this. It seemed Willow had a similar experience, and honestly after their first egg touching venture, she was oddly silent, but so happy. It warmed his whole being to see her like that, so truly invested and ready for what was to come.

It was pretty soon in coming, as well. The hatching was called out by the lovely golden dragoness on the black sands, her eggs were ready. Her eggs demanded their bonds. He hustled to get himself prepared, and finally Willow and Howard spotted each other as they were brought onto the sands, and since they generally had to be at least marginally 'not emotional', at least not in the romantic way, they both simply reached for the other's hand, and clutched it tightly. They'd been separated for a bit, here and there, mainly in their duties around the Weyr.

Willow had busied herself not just with providing a few haircuts but learning as much as she could about this 'not their' world - she knew of no ships that had gone from Earth, it wasn't 'theirs'. Such stories she could tell when they were home. She had studied well, though was never going to be a 'fighter' type, neither of them were. Since they were all going to be heading back to their homeworld provided they impressed here, it was likely that only the big green supermutant Tartan would require much in the way of flight and fight training.

Howard had been industrious about getting into the infirmary swing of things. He already knew much about simple wounds and issues, but the things coming from the Weyr? They were very different indeed, and sometimes could only be fixed by doing things 'local' to this world. He could recognize when a rider had been between too long, now, and could tell a when a dragon would need to be oiled. He would need to know how to fix a very strange variety of issues once they returned, for sure.

A number of very interesting things happened before their eyes, including their large supermutant friend Tartan actually... bonding a brilliantly beautiful pearl-colored dragon!? That was quite the sight! As eggs hatched and dragons scattered or flopped around or strutted... Howard felt tingling, almost like his whole body was waking up from being numbed. (And he knew what that felt like because they used a thing called 'numb-weed' here? and... yeah there were pranks in the medical office.) Dragon after dragon hatched, including one brown that had a set of ungainly looking paws.

The unimpressed brown had remained among the clutch when the rest of his siblings had scattered, and now he got to his feet and approached the two remaining eggs, the largest ones in the clutch. The brown looked toward the eggs and apparently conversed with the dragonet within, before helping it to escape! He had no trouble helping a lovely silver out of its shell. Together they glanced at the largest of the eggs, which was wobbling but had yet to hatch. Whatever response they got from within was muffled, but seemed an affirmative, as the pair then quickly worked together to break open the largest egg.

At first many thought the pair had freed some sort of abomination, something with too many limbs and strange formation to last for long. Then one leg twitched and another shifted, and what had appeared to be one strange and twisted dragon resolved itself into two small but seemingly properly conformed silvers. Twins. No wonder they couldn't get out on their own, they must have been stuffed so tightly in there that they had no room to move. On getting out, the twins and the disparate pair touched noses, and then separated into pairs, the twins going one way, and the brown and silver going the other.

The unmatched pair seemed to be in communication as they walked, steadily side by side. There seemed an odd connection there. Not like that of the twins, but present nonetheless.

There they are! The Silver called, surging ahead of her brown companion as she spotted the one she was looking for.

Yes, I see them. the Brown was unhurried, keeping to the steady pace which had so far preventing him from tripping over his too big paws.

I'm sorry we took so long to come and find you The silver spoke to both Willow and Howard. But the twins really needed our help and I didn't think you would mind

Hello Howard The brown came to a halt before the two and looked up into the man's eyes. I am Skorath. We have much work to do

I'm Chainuth The Silver announced to Willow in a cheerful tone I have some great ideas I think you can help me with

Howard only knew that the dragon's mind felt infinitely comfortable in his own. This was something unexpected... Well, beyond the fact that this just-hatched dragon could stand on his hind legs and put his paws over the man's shoulders! That weird fear that he always had, that all Synths had, that some day his codes would be read aloud and his mind would shatter...

That fear was gone. It was as if the mind of the dragon just... obliterated it. Were the codes gone? Was that chip embedded in his brain simply unable to function, or was it now padded, protected by that dragon's mind? Who knew, he didn't and he didn't care either. But he felt so confident that even if the one person who did know those codes used them? They would fall on deaf 'ears'. Skorath's mind nested within his, throwing an overwhelmingly loving internal gaze on him, but also... hungry!

Once they'd collected themselves, the pair-of-pairs headed away to the feeding area, to being their new lives.

***

Howard did indeed learn quite a bit while his dragon was tiny - sleeping most of the time, and demanding food the rest, but that phase didn't last too long. He'd spent a lot of time in the infirmary, but his knowledge of human anatomy and diseases was already extensive. So now... He trained with the dragon healers more than anything else. Z'tan had handed him off early, since the Institute synth was clearly capable of fixing most issues, and had others on the staff at this Vault of theirs to boot.

But dragons were not human, not at all. Their limbs were reasonably obvious, but it was their internal organs, their chemistry, that intrigued him the most. He also was aware, and Willow helped him to remember this, that not all dragons were built the same. These Pernese dragons might have different blood or organs specific to their breed, where others in those pamphlets were known to have much stranger bits and ways. But he'd be here for at least a year his-time, regardless, so he'd be thinking about those other dragons when the time came. For now, he learned about oils and shedding, claw care and wing maintenance.

Skorath would sleepily ask whether he would be expected to breathe fire and combat raiders. And Howard gently smiled, "if we must. But I think you and I will be handling different duties at home."

It was true, their work would be keeping everyone healthy, and if that led to protective fights, perhaps they would engage. For the time being, they got more involved with training among the others. They weren't really expected to keep up with the combat-worthy members of the weyrling squad, but still both Howard and Willow did their best. And though they were still not allowed to be too intimate, they wound up petitioning for a shared dorm. The support that they showed each other was enough to convince the weyrling master to let them remain together. Their dragons nested in a lumpy pile while the humans discussed their daily routines.

The couple were exhausted, their dragons stuffed full of meat and tired out from marching on the training field. Both of them had little contact with the fighting side, except for Howard's occasional assists in the infirmary. Over time, the next few months they learned how special their dragons really were. Howard's Skorath was so big, he was very nearly the size of a bronze, which ... well, they didn't really have much to go on with that, not knowing exactly what a bronze dragon could be like? But the weyrlingmaster assured Howard that it would be to his benefit should they need to transport injured folk, or reach areas with an impressive entrance. Also those big paws of his, while they seemed a bit clumsy at first, when Skorath was grown enough to swim and start moving around fully on his own, boy did they come in handy for grabbing fish or smacking items around. He'd be of such use in a setting where their territory could be defended by placing piles of rubble, as well as getting over that rubble.

When he started flapping his wings, everyone knew he meant business. He and the pearl that Tartan had impressed quickly traded chittering squawks, as to who was going to fly first! But it was no surprise to Willow that her own silver was up first among the trio, she would certainly conquer the skies. And Howard would be waiting for her to come back with plenty of comics and library books, for the kids back in the Vault!

Dragon

Name: Skorath
Gender: Male
Size/Shoulder/Length: medium (bulky) Mutation - Oversize 9'6" s / 38' l / 50' ws
Colors: mid-ranked Gentle Winds Brown; In colour, he is a handsome warm wood brown in tone, with dark points and a paler shade forming a blaze and snip on his face, a tall sock on his left front paw and colouring the toes of his right hind, as well as the very tips of his tail. eyes vary #80582F | #463019 | #D1AC87
Features: Mostly standard Pernese DawnWatch variation, Mutation - Polydactyl has 6 fingers and 4 toes on fore and hind limbs He's a big fellow, a match to any bronze, with the deep chested powerful build to match. He might not be the swiftest or most agile of dragons, but he's got stamina for days and the strength to lift anything he sets his mind to
Powers: Winged Flight, quite strong and certainly one of the most powerful fliers in the area, Skorath likes to circle overhead pretty high up, and watch for any activity that may lead to trouble for his rider and friends. Usually he's up high enough that to the casual eye he appears to just be a smallish bird, he's that high up. But no bird makes that big of a shadow...
Teleportation, adept but not his strongest point, he is accurate but shorter ranged for on-site teleportation, and prefers to use this for big lifting projects such as bringing quarry materials or heavy machinery from one part of the Commonwealth to another. He usually picks things up, hefts it into the air and moves directly over to the settlement with a jaunt; anything less than 2 miles he handles with ease, but if it's a longer distance he'd rather just fly
Telepathy, he likes knowing what all is going on around him and the Vault, so Skorath is listening in on dragon minds all the time. He isn't chatty but he enjoys good conversations and even a touch of gossip; this is more because that way he can get a sense of whether anything is wrong or bothering the Vault, and makes an effort to correct it if possible; he can easily reach any dragon in the Commonwealth (okay they're mostly centered where he is, but still!) - from the Kingsport Lighthouse to Fort Hagen, and from the Northern Escarpment to the Edge of the Glowing Sea, if there's a dragon flying around he'll sense and chat, and at times even command them - they listen to him because he certainly knows if something's up
Passive Telekinesis, he lacks active kinetic power, but if he's joining in with others from his homeworld, he helps boost their power considerably
Parentage: clutch 1 Out of Gold Wrenth, by Bronze Yunjith
Origin: from Dawn Watch Weyr
Other Info: Vigilant | Attentive | Social | Affectionate Skorath is a guardian at his core, a dragon who is happiest when he has others to watch over and protect. He's a kindly creature who has no issues with showing his feelings for others. He dislikes fighting, but will do so to protect those who need it. The first thing most people realise about Skorath is his size. Skorath is oddly dexterous however, thanks to the addition of an extra toe on each foot.

(Hatchling then adult)