where’s Fiona tho

Since being back from the vault, Fiona’s felt a sense of misplacement, of not being sure entirely of where she belongs. It’s unsettling, and there’s a part of her that wishes Sasha or Rhys - hell, Vaughn even - had stuck around a little longer to help her get her feet back. Sasha, of course, had stayed with her for a long while; they’d always been nearly inseparable growing up, but it’s a big sister’s lot in life to learn that her kid sister can take care of herself. And Sasha has always been stronger in that way than Fiona has. She’s always been sure that, if she were to die first, Sasha would be okay. Grieve, of course, but she’d cope and learn to move on.

(The thought of losing Sasha makes Fiona uneasy, unnerved, sets her to an edge she didn’t know she could reach. It would be an emotional turning point that would result in numbness and a strange sense of apathetic violence. She felt it when inside the vault, wondering if Sasha would be alive when she got out - if their world would even be the same. She and Rhys didn’t know how much time had passed while they were in there. Thankfully, thank fucking god, it hadn’t been as much time as it seemed like. And Sasha was still safe.)

Sasha has another life, though, and she and Fiona still see each other, but not enough that Fiona doesn’t feel out of place. She can still walk the world with confidence, knowing where she’s going, who she’s going to meet; but like missing a step when going up the stairs, she feels uneasy.

She’s drawn to places she would frequent before the vault. Home, of course, Hollow Point has always been her and Sasha’s HQ; Sanctuary, home to so many that she had come to know and help during the aftermath of Handsome Jack’s reign of terror; even Oasis, though the nostalgia of Shade’s goofy sunglasses and wide-toothed grin wore off quickly. It’s in Sanctuary where Fiona finds herself now. Normally, she would wander aimlessly, tracing the familiar paths of the streets, looking into the shops, making small talk with whoever happened to want to stop and talk for a minute.

It’s different this time. Whispered word of a Psycho in Scooter’s garage has her hands curling and her veins on fire. She knows it’s partly guilt mixed with the ache of sadness that has her so angry at the mere idea of something like a Psycho in his garage, wreaking havoc, tearing things apart for whatever scrap they could find. And she won’t have it. Her boots click hard on the streets as she draws closer, and a quick flick of the wrist snaps her gun into her hand from where it stays tucked up into her sleeve.

“Get the hell out of here!” she says, a hard edge to her voice. The gun is aimed at the man, and he’s surprisingly calm for what he is, but the rage in her mind doesn’t see it clearly; he’s a menace to what Scooter kept here, and she’ll be damned if she’s going to let his memory be scarred because some sun-crazed asshole can’t keep his hands to himself.

Until (if) we get more information, this is the general way I’ll be approaching playing Fiona post-Tales/pre-3. Some things can definitely be plotted differently if requested, but this is my current go-to:

Tagged by: @sirhys (thank you~!) Tagging: idk who’s done it so, if you want to - @truxicanfalconer , @stellevatum , @parasitiiic , and literally anyone else who wants to do it!

Heroine Who’s Too Clever by Half

“Dead or vaguely happy. Eh, it could be worse.”

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