Election Day

[goodfight]

[Once upon a time, blah, blah, blah, and thus, the Lone Wanderer brings a stray named the Courier from the not-so-radioactive Mojave Wasteland back into the highly radioactive Capital Wasteland.

It has proven to be the worst idea in the history of all ideas. A wanderer and his dog could go into a town and the town would live their silly lives without a care. Two wanderers, a dog, and an eyebot are, to say the least, a walking disaster. Neil really should have kept the tour restricted to Megaton. Neil, however, has been keeping his mouth shut on the matter because a part of him finds the venture very entertaining.

And so the duo are now on their way to the Republic of Dave, a settlement to the north of Washington, D.C. At nineteen, Neil had set foot in the place once and once only. Then, after speaking with its "citizens", he hightailed it out of there as soon as he got what he came for. The place is the headquarters of a cult in the guise of a democracy, the leader has as big of an ego as Eden, and Neil doesn't know why they're going back there.

He says as much to Alex.]

I still don't know why I'm going back there.

[A pointed look to the older man.]

And taking you with me.

Comments

[goodfight]

[Contrary to earlier's mood, Neil laughs.]

Yeah, you're nowhere near as cuddly.

[doubletap]

[ The laugh causes something to shift in his chest. Alex is caught between uncomfortable and something... warm. So he just shrugs. ]

That's not one of my specialties, I'm afraid.

[goodfight]

Probably better that way.

[The man yawns, the motion seeped in exhaustion.]

Heard gunshots. Get anything decent?

[doubletap]

[ He looks over at the yawning man, then reaches his arm around Neil's shoulders, to pull him closer in. ]

Not really. Nothing human--or humanoid--at least. Pure mindlessness.

[ Which was basically what he had needed. ]

[goodfight]

[The gesture is allowed, like most anything regarding Alex lately, and Neil simply tips his head to rest against the other's shoulder.]

That bad, huh?

[Enough to mean nothing. Neil goes silent for a beat.]

You're right, by the way. I don't think there's anything for me here anymore.

[doubletap]

[ He knew that already.

That without a place that was Neil's (that damn vault), or a family of shitty people, this place is just another area. And it has bad memories more than good at this point. Yeah, Alex knows this.

But Neil is accepting affection, and Alex doesn't feel like ruining it by reminding him. ]

Well I'm here right now. So you got that.

[ Hair ruffle. ]

[goodfight]

[Sure. At first glance, that seems to be the case. Alex is right here, Dogmeat as well, and that is that.

But even in his tired state, it feels off.]

But I can't keep up with you, old man.

[doubletap]

[ Now here is something new. ]

You're calling me an old man, then saying you can't keep up? You got a lot of years a head of you.

[goodfight]

[Neil sighs, mildly annoyed.]

We're too different, I mean. Don't get you at all.

[doubletap]

It'd be boring if we weren't.

[ Different. ]

And you do. You know you do.

[goodfight]

Boring.

[Maybe.]

I don't. Your world...your Vegas is too fast-paced and epileptic for me.

[doubletap]

So you like quiet? Peace?

[ It's a genuine question, despite the source. ]

[goodfight]

Come on. You know quiet and peace are once-in-a-blue-moon kind of deals.

[For them. Neil yawns.]

Just want more even pacing. Definitely less lights.

[doubletap]

[ Alex snorts, and lets his arm curl up to drop his hand onto black hair. ]

Like I like Vegas. I'm fine with Novac, or--

[ Poking. ]

Camping. Like I said at the start.

[goodfight]

[The pressure is nicer than Neil would admit to. Instead, he settles for nuzzling closer.]

...It's weird. I can't get used to it.

[doubletap]

[ ...He's surprised at the open affection. Not that he's complaining, but. ]

Someone else?

[goodfight]

...Yeah. Someone else.

[doubletap]

You're only twenty-two.

[ Dumb kid. ]

You're far too young to be set in your ways.

[goodfight]

[Oh, the age argument again. Neil frowns.]

I'm twenty-two. I could die the next day. How do my "ways" matter?

[doubletap]

It's just a statement, kid. But this is a good example. You should stop being so defensive.

[goodfight]

[A pause.]

I just can't trust you.

[doubletap]

That's dumb. I've saved your ass more than once.

[goodfight]

So have I. Whoop-dee-do.

[doubletap]

I would disagree on that, but--

[ The argumentative brat is returning. ]

I don't see how that changes things. What's not to trust about me?

[goodfight]

[Oh, what a simple question.]

If I can't trust my own father, I can't possibly trust you. It's just how I am.