the_last_resort | Blackmoon Celebration

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.

Sorry. [He actually apologizes for it when Boone pulls away. He gets that, too. And he pulls his hand back to rub at his temple.]

I have this problem, too. If you get it at this end of town it's pretty cheap. But you might have a harder time because of security. Or maybe you're lucky and people can't tell. It's where the better drinks are, anyway. The people I like more. They feel more real to me.

Not sure if people would recognise me. Guess I do kinda stand out a little, though. Nobody else walks around with a red beret and a robot dog. You think they'd try to break in or something?

[That would be a lot worse than what he's dealing with now. He thinks he'd rather have to pay a little more if it means less chance of people messing with him and his home. He likes the drinks down this end of town better too, but... well, he's used to long walks.]

[Niko looks thoughtful, toying with his glove for a moment before actually pulling it off. Then the other one.]

I know some people. If I talk to them you'll be left alone. [He doesn't want to say much more than that. He already knows that sounds suspicious. But from there he at least admits something.] Unlucky people make unlucky friends. I think they're better about getting each other's backs, too.

And big tough idiot drunks that get in barfights and impress people sometimes make friends, too. [He smiles up at Boone oafishly. It's a little selfish, he wants someone around that he doesn't have to go across town for and hell knows Boone doesn't want to be driven anywhere.]

Huh. Didn't know you were so friendly with the locals here.

[It sounds suspicious, but he thinks enough of Niko that he just takes him by his word and assumes he made friends down here by being drunk and charming. Kind of how he made friends with Boone in the first place, really.]

If you think it'd work... well, I'd be grateful.

Yeah, a little. [And in the meantime he's quietly resigning himself to either receiving or delivering the best ass-kicking he's had in a while. Which could be therapeutic or terrible, but as long as it resolves itself the way that he wants it to.]

You don't seem much like normal cops anyway. Didn't like the ones back home so much. They were all crooked.

Maybe I should've made friends too, but... it's never really been something I was good at.

[He's always been the type to wait for people to come to him, because he's never known what to say.]

Doesn't sound much like people wanna be friends with security down here, anyway.

Maybe it's just the sort of people I know better. The life I know better. Where I am, I am illegal for being in America.

You have been friendly enough with me. [He pulls himself up to a sitting position.]

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sorry for the icon of shirtlessness but the position was right

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