the_last_resort | Blackmoon Celebration

Gonna be a small omelette.

[He shrugs, but he's smiling a little. The whole thing struck him as pretty ridiculous, too.]

Might as well do something with it, though. So, sure.

[Not like they're gonna sit on it to keep it warm or anything.]

Come on. You can bring your friend the whisky bottle, and finish dismembering the spider, and we'll make up for size of egg in cheese.

[Really Niko's not great at Omelette so it'll be more of a scramble, but no one would really complain about that. He's pleased to have gotten something, though. Better distraction than the fistfights he was mentioning.]

[He stands up and like Boone did for him, offers down his hand.]

[He finishes his cigarette and stubs it out on the side of his bottle, then lets Niko help him to his feet.]

You any good at cooking?

[He might as well figure out what he's potentially gotten himself into now. He's agreed to food before and it's been pretty awful. He usually ate it anyway, though. Only the most vile food got put to one side or furtively dumped behind a bush.]

I'm ex-military. I make food that you keep down and keeps you going. I know how not to burn it, at least. [Cheese, things that are not cheese but also are pretty good, egg. That is what makes an omelette. He takes ale and finishes it off so he can dump the bottle into recycling when he goes, though some part of him wants to save it for a molotov cocktail. he needs to get out of that way of thinking.]

At least it will not be on the streets, ah? For a little bit. I think I have had my fill for today.

I'm ex-military too, but I still burn my food.

[He shrugs.]

Still eat it, though. So I guess it doesn't matter.

[Boone wonders if he could manage to burn an omelette. He's never made one himself.]

The ones back home are made outta deathclaw eggs. They're about...

[He holds his bottle up and his hand, the space between them just about covering from his chest to his stomach.]

...that big. You can feed a couple people with one egg.

Holy shit! [He sounds surprised in a pleased way.] Well, maybe not so good if no cheese, but sounds like there's much of it. I not make so much. But I make enough to try and I don't know, maybe not get stupid drunk like last time.

Or at least if we get stupid drunk we'll be at my house.

[And it's actually not a far walk, it's a tall little house with a tiny yard he doesn't care too much about, so it's all tall grass and wildflowers. There's a fold out couch-bed taking up one end of his main room, his hound staring out lazily from beneath it in a pile of sleepy dog and the cat-thing mewling for food almost as soon as he comes in.]

Yes, yes, you'll be fed. We have guest, be nice.

[He goes over to the kitchen space which barely has any dirty dishes since he mostly eats out, and plugs in his spawner to stoop and squint at the settings. He doesn't look at Boone because he has to find a manual on his communications device and look up codes for the various parts he wants to add to his sandwich.]

Sometimes I do fight, yeah. I don't really like it I guess. I just feel like I need to defend my pride. I don't do it so much anymore. Pride just gets you into shit. I'm better at doing what I'm told.

Never had many omelettes back home. Getting an egg from a deathclaw's nest in the first place is too much damn trouble, and they're not even that good.

[Boone reaches down to pet the cat when he sees it. It's still a funny little thing to him, and it rubs against his leg once before going to follow Niko for food. He sees the hound too, but doesn't go over to it. Instead he just sort of ends up watching Niko fiddle with the spawner. He doesn't use his own much- like Niko, he prefers to eat out. He lowers his eyes as he speaks, then shrugs and folds his arms.]

I dunno. Doing what you're told can get you into trouble, too.

[He doesn't really feel like elaborating on that, though.]

I get into a lot of fights, but I don't start them unless it's Legion. It's never hand to hand, either. I'm kinda useless without a weapon. It's why I carry them around with me all the time. Can't afford to be caught unarmed. Never been in a bar fight, though. Seen them, but never been in one.

Where I am from, starting them is easy. Sometimes I start them by being a Serb. Some people start them by being homosexual. All you have to do is "be" something, and people will want to fight you. My cousin would be beaten by loan sharks, and when I tried to fight them off of him he would only yell at me for making more trouble.

I deserved it, though. He was right.

[He has cheese and sort of a bacon cube and a real onion out of the fridge and some green pepper. Which he chops into loose cubes without the finesse of a chef, but they won't ruin anything. He even sautees them like his mother would.]

[And after a moment of consideration, gets some whiskey out of the cabinet for himself but offers it over to Boone.] Put this by where you're sitting. [Since that ale will be gone.] Would you want me to teach you how to fight?

[Those seem like stupid reasons to attack someone, but Boone still isn't surprised. And if someone was kicking his ass and someone else came to help him, he's pretty sure he wouldn't be yelling at them. He watches Niko cook for a little while, but when he offers him the whiskey he heads over to the couch and sits down with it, setting it on the table. He drinks some of his own, thinking about Niko's offer.]

It would probably be useful. You sure you wouldn't mind?

[He probably wouldn't be offering if he did mind, but he feels like he should ask anyway.]

Hey, I have a new friend. I want to keep him safe. I like to keep my friends. [Though he doesn't think people who are his friends suffer the best fates. It's enough for him to add.] It might even spare me a few bad dreams to know you have that.

[He brings over a couple of cheap plates and forks liberated from a restaurant (he didn't really need a lot of silverware). He offers the leftver porkish meat chunk to the dog under the bed and gives the cat a piece of fish from his fridge to quiet her. Him. It.]

[He sits by Boone to eat, digging his heels in to lay back on a mass of pillows and blankets that serve as a decent back prop. He deems his work not too terrible, but still chases it with whisky.]

Edited 2014-07-13 22:02 (UTC)

[Well, it's better than the omelettes back home. Not enough for him to feel like he wants to go hunting for deathclaw eggs any more than he did, but it's nice enough.]

I dunno, you shouldn't worry too much about me. Kinda have a habit of not dying when I should.

[It's nice to know that Niko cares about him, though. He'd assumed he'd be on his own for the most part here. He isn't great at making friends. It was part of the reason he brought Rex along. He likes being alone sometimes, but... not all the time.]

[He's still a military man at heart and scarfs the food like one, before immediately turning to his whiskey. Still, mid-drink the turn to his words gives him pause.]

[He then turns it into a quick smile, and he looks at the bottle.] You seem like a good guy to have that habit. There are a lot of assholes back home that I wish didn't have it.

[But then he kicks his foot light off the edge of the bed and wrinkles his nose, scanning the unfamiliar words at the front of the bottle to keep his gaze occupied and even traces under the letters with his finger so he can sound them out in his head]. It's a good trait to have in a friend instead of an enemy. I've had a lot of bad people betray me. They make the good people suffer for it. [He probably shouldn't be telling a member of security about this. Hell, he might end up in a fist fight for inviting one into his house (it's still one that he'd get into as he likes Boone better than the people he's been running for). But it's nice to have the company.]

[Well, he's no saint, but again that's not really something he wants to go into the details of. He goes back to his own bottle, and leans back against the pillows keeping him propped up a little more.]

Yeah. If my friends could stay alive like some of the people I've known, maybe I wouldn't worry so much about... losing them.

[He wanted to say "bringing them down with me", but he doesn't know if he wants to explain what he means right now. They're having a nice time, right? He shouldn't bring that into it.]

Hey. Hey... [He says in a tipsy voice, leans over and takes one of Boone's hands and clasps both of his around it. He gazes at him earnestly.]

It is important for you to know that you will not lose me. Because it is very hard to kill me. I've survived ships sinking, and ambushes, and villages destroyed, and crossing an ocean. I am a survivor. And I am taller than you, so I'm easy to find.

[Well, at least he looks convinced. Boone won't let himself believe it though, no matter what Niko has already survived. He frowns a little.]

You are pretty tall.

[Then again, a lot of people are taller than Boone.]

Where I'm from I'm average. Everybody is kind of big.

[He stays laying on his side, and while the grip on his stolen hand has eased he's pressing the pads of their thumbs together to see which one his bigger. And he squints really hard at it like he's concentrating.]

I like being where there's a lot of different sizes and shapes. Sometimes it's too noisy. But sometimes it's good to see so much that is different in one place. See that it can exist like this. Maybe not happy together, maybe just indifferent, but exist.

Lot of people back home are kinda small. My friend Elle, she's a lot shorter than I am.

[It's odd to think that in one place people are generally Niko's height, but back home people are on the small side. He just lets Niko mess around with his hand, not entirely sure what he's doing with it but he looks pretty focused on something.]

Never really thought about it myself. For the most part I just thought it was kinda strange. It wouldn't work back home. Probably wouldn't work in a lot of places. Seems to be working here, though.

[After being satisfied with the comparison he lets go so that he can prop himself up on his elbow and take a drink of his own whiskey.]

What does it like back where you're from? Is it. What is it like....

[He moves his hand back over to his lap when Niko lets go, tapping his fingers lightly against his bottle.]

Well, the Mojave's a desert, so it's hotter than it is here. There are towns, but there are still broken down houses and buildings too. For the most part it's sand and rocks, but there's a lake too. Going between towns you're likely to run into things that wanna kill you, so it's not really a good idea to head out unarmed unless you have a death wish. Still a few places you don't wanna stick around too long because of the radiation, and some places you're better off avoiding altogether.

But then there's Vegas, too. People save up everything they have just to get in and blow it all in one night, on women and drinking and gambling. There's three casinos, and then there's the Lucky 38. It's a casino too, but it's been closed off ever since the bombs fell. Nobody knew what was inside until House let Elle in less than a year ago. You can see it from pretty much anywhere in the Mojave, especially at night. It's all tall and lit up.

At least Roman would be happy there. Women. Drinking. Gambling. No loan sharks, it sounds like. It is money he would have to earn himself. For him? It would be a dream even in hell.

But he is good at finding those.

[There's a note of love for a distant family member there. A sad one, but he does miss Roman. He's just better off without him.]

Strip's okay when you first get there. Never seen anything like it before. Gets old, though. Since Elle is allowed in the Lucky 38, so are her friends. It's pretty much been home for us and a few others ever since.

[It reminds Boone of Carla, though. The Strip is everything she loved, and he can't leave it behind. Even if he doesn't like all the people, and isn't too keen on gambling, and doesn't like paying for sex. He can get behind the drinking and the shows at the Tops, but otherwise there's not much for him to do there except mope and think about the past. He prefers traveling with Elle.]

How about you? What's it like where you're from?

[He flops back into his mess of blankets and looks up at the ceiling, squinting at paint patterns.]

It's bright. There are tall buildings. So tall if you look up them from the ground, you get dizzy. Lots of lit signs. People everywhere. Not all of them are very nice. The women can be fake and mean, just want to use you.

The place where I was born, though, before the war I lived on a simple farm. But that was pretty much ruined. Roman likes the bright and the noise of the city. It is a good place for him. I thought I had something good there, too, but she decided to give the wrong guy a chance. I made a bad ending for her.

I don't think there are happy endings, anymore. The most I hope for is maybe a quiet one. I think I would just like something quiet. This isn't too bad so far. [Save for a couple of uneasy explosions. But that's way less than home.]

[It sort of sounds like a really big version of Vegas. And the way he talks about Roman makes him think of Carla, liking the lights and people and noise. But then Niko talks about meeting someone and it ending badly because of him, and he stares off ahead for a few moments before shaking his head and lowering his eyes to his bottle. It hits too close to home.]

I don't think there are, either.

My cousin would say there are no endings, but, pretty sure there are. I'm sorry. Is a bad subject and he's an idiot.

[Even if he loves that idiot. He can see the look on Boone's face though, and he's just drunk enough to wrap his fingers around his wrist. He knows something bad happened there. He recognizes that pain all too well, it's startled him in the mirror a few times.]

[He pulls his wrist away after a moment, not wanting the touch or the sympathy. He'd rather not think about it at all. If he gets to thinking about it when he's been drinking, he's more likely to get upset over it. He doesn't cry, but... it's always more obvious when he's upset over something after he's been drinking. Even now, Niko can see it. He pushes it away as best as he can, fixes his expression, tries to think about something else.]

Been thinking I should rent one of these places. Don't like other people coming into my room uninvited.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

sorry for the icon of shirtlessness but the position was right

no subject

no subject

no subject