abstracts | the pier.

Entry tags:

fallout

the pier.

Let him just say it now--the kid had a lot of problems.

I mean, not really a surprise or anything--Alex had found him dried out in a desert, for crying out loud--but god damn.

Let’s recap.

Alex Seattle Geer found himself in love with a Vault brat from the Capital Wasteland with a daddy complex the size of Hoover Dam. Said kid loves him back--sometimes. Said kid would probably rather put ~~another~~ bullet between Alex’s eyes rather than spend time with him, and didn’t this just go to show it. Neil leaves to check up a rumor, said he’d be back shortly--shortly became two days and by then Dogmeat was back, meaning Neil took off somewhere he was worried the dog would get hurt at. Two days turn into two weeks and counting, and by then, Alex has tracked Neil’s steps, found the fucking pier, the fucking tool of a woman looking for her child, and all of the pieces are too easily placed.

Neil left for Point Lookout. And Alex, ED-E, and Dogmeat are left hanging in the wind.

Alex has been fucking camping on the dirty sand and shit next to that pier, waiting for that stupid kid to come back on that stupid ferry the woman told him about. Tobar the fucking Ferryman, and Alex feels like shooting the asshole just for submitting to Neil’s request. Probably not the guy’s fault, but-- Hell. Yeah. He didn’t traipse all over the goddamn country just to be left in the dust. Is the kid even coming back? Who fucking knows.

Alex will just.

Wait here.

Until Neil comes back.

Yeah, that’s not pathetic at all.

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Neil touches the dog's head briefly, forcing calm and stability. The voices in the hallway are becoming louder, angrier, and there isn't a moment to waste. He stands up, stumbling in the motion, notes the pile of clothes on the floor. Going out in his underwear probably wouldn't do him any good; thus, he grabs the long coat he's attributed to Alex, throwing it on and buttoning as swiftly as his fingers would allow.

Finally, ignoring all pain and warnings screaming in his feverish brain, Neil opens the door. He pauses in his movements once to spare ED-E a look, a tired expression of reassurance, before rushing out of the room.

"Hey! Stop!" he yells down the hall.

"I could honestly give a molerat's ass about this project."

--There the anger surges, eyes widening with hate. For the project Alex Seattle Geer fucking hates, for Neil's wasted early years, for these assholes hiding behind metal plate; all of it. The second he starts shooting, he knows he'll have to finish it. Otherwise, it will start a drawn out war, and he wants them to be able to finish their time in this shitty wasteland without trouble. More trouble. So if he starts shooting, he has to finish it.

All right. All right. So he'll finish it.

His weapon is raised to fire in a blink, and there is the sound of a door opening, yelling from a voice well-loved. Alex instantly feels like a kid caught doing something wrong, but pushes the feeling away, the semi-fear of Neil reacting poorly to Alex's part in this. Gun at the ready and still facing the group in front of him, he side-steps, blocking Neil from continuing as well as shielding him from any threats.

"Neil," he says tersely, eyes locked on the guys in metal, expression without the humor he had been wearing for most of this interaction. "You need to go back in that room."

You need to rest. He wants to turn, take the kid in his arms and make sure he's okay, get him to lay down and rest again, but there's four assholes with energy weapons who have already shown they don't give a fuck--he's not turning his back on them.

Before they could finish this gloriously prolonged version of all that's stupid in the world, a new voice emerges, calling for a cessation. This would have been ignored. Would have, if not for the other man's reactions. If not for the name given.

Tanks raises a hand, signaling the others to hold their fire. Xavier practically snarls at the command, which his superior decidedly ignores.

"Neil," tries Tank. "Neil Park?"

Alex blocks him from proceeding, but it's not something Neil minds. What he does mind is image before him: four sets of power armor branded with the Brotherhood of Steel insignia, aiming three sets of tri-beam laser rifles and a Tesla cannon in their direction.

That and the voice of their commanding officer. God, it's been years, but Neil Park recognizes that voice.

"Just give me a minute," he says quietly to Alex. With that, his attention shifts again to the one in charge.

"Yeah, Tanks, you fucking prick," Neil calls out from behind Alex, bandaged head poking over to the side to get a decent look at the other. There's nothing to see, of course, except standard power armor. "I save your pathetic hide, and this is the thanks I get? You trying to shoot my friend?"

Edited 2016-07-03 08:15 (UTC)

Yeah, sure, have your fucking minute, kid. When you should be resting and fucking not standing. Alex shifts to angle his body, still blocking Neil, but moving a hand to reach behind his back, grasping the front of Neil's clothes to keep him close and still. Stable, maybe. The cloth is familiar under his hand, but he's not looking away, not yet.

For this Alex keeps to silence, willing to let this play out, except--

Alex curls a lip at the one called Tanks, happy to play killjoy. "Not just that. Willing to crumble this whole project just to ice me."

Indeed, it is Neil Park, the Lone Wanderer. The fucking Savior of the Wastes himself, looking over his monstrous friend to lecture him. Him, Paladin Tanks of the Brotherhood of Steel. He could practically picture Xavier bringing up the next dumb item to his dumb list of grievances.

Park's monstrous friend does not help matters, and Tanks sneers back, despite no one being able to see his expression. "Please. I gave you plenty of chances to explain your side of things," he replies, his tone again shifting to boredom. Attention shifting to Park. "If he had just mentioned you--"

"--would have started shooting anyway," Neil retorts, cutting through the bullshit. He sways against the fist grasping the front of his clothes before settling in a more tolerable stance, his hand unobtrusively reaching out to press against Alex's back.

His voice lowers, revealing a hard edge despite his condition. "I'm still listed as a Project Purity member," he says. "That means my friend and I can be here whenever I fucking feel like it. That means he can shoot you liberally for risking the project. Capice?"

Neil moves, swaying, and Alex fucking fights against the urge to turn and hold him steady. In front of that girl and her mom is one thing--looking weak in front of these Steel assholes is not really a safe measure. The kid reaches up to steady himself against Alex, and despite the cause, some of his tension melts away. Alex shifts again, the arm holding Neil going out in front of him instead, as if he were a bodyguard projecting and holding back his charge. Only those close would see that Alex's arm is held against Neil's chest instead of just in front of him, supporting some of his weight.

He readjusts the LAER+ in his other arm, bracing the gun against his hip as he keeps it aimed at the man Neil speaks with. The message is simple enough, an underline to Neil's words: He'll still shoot him, given the chance.

Edited 2016-07-04 03:23 (UTC)

Tanks being Tanks can argue until he's blue in the face, but he cannot argue against items he knows to be true. Park is indeed a member of Project Purity, and if shit hits the fan and Park complains, well-- It'll be Tanks who's going to take the fall. Much like Bigsley.

Not to mention, the paladin does owe him for blocking that bullet aimed for his head, back when he was a mere knight assisting Scribe Yearling in the Arlington Library.

Ah, fuck Xavier. Tanks indicates with his head to the exit hallway, still keeping the Tesla cannon level on his shoulder. "We're leaving," he barks to the group before turning his attention again on Neil. "Don't think I'm not reporting this, Park."

Johannson and Luis begin a cautious retreat. Predictably, it is Xavier who's perfectly still. "Paladin Tanks, I must protest. The--" He indicates to Neil with his rifle. "--Lone Wanderer killed a contingent of my comrades in the past. His friend also just threatened us. It would be a disgrace to the Brotherhood if we let this pass."

The arm shifts to serve as a support, and Neil could just kiss Alex for the motion. Where that urge comes from, he doesn't fully know, but he's quite willing to lean into the arm at the moment.

Tanks continues being Tanks, and Neil simply shrugs at the man. It isn't until one of the others speaks that he again opens his mouth to question.

"That's a serious accusation, knight," he comments. "I have never shot at--much less killed--anyone from the Brotherhood of Steel."

Neil leans on the arm Alex offers, and it's this more than anything that makes Alex's temper fray to its ends. He wants this situation done now, and the parts of his brain, primal and protective, are fine with things ending in violence. The accusation made and Neil's response only lines up the subject for Alex to chime in.

He smiles, all teeth. "I have though. A whole bunker full in Hidden Valley."

Oh, cripes. Tanks had heard some bad blood between the Outcasts and the Lone Wanderer, and somehow, he didn't consider the possibility. "Knight Xavier," he hisses at his subordinate. "Remember your loyalties. We are done here."

Except they are not. Park's friend gives away a tidbit that Xavier eats up instantly, whose entire being ignores everything else to now focus on the large man. "What did you say, mutt?" the knight exclaims, finger edging toward the trigger.

Tanks, sensing another headache coming in, hisses again, "Enough of your Outcast bullshit, Xavier! I told you to stand down!"

It's Neil who picks up the subtleties despite the lack of answers, and he discretely pokes a finger at Alex's ribs. Hard.

Except it is too late. Knight Xavier's caught onto the mention of Hidden Valley, and Neil thinks of how naive he was all those years ago, traversing ignorantly through the Capital Wasteland, thinking things were perfectly uncomplicated in their complications. Stupid asswipe. Stupid nineteen-year-old self.

There's a choice to be made. A choice that involves risks. And Neil would rather mitigate those risks. "Kill him," he murmurs to Alex. "Xavier."

The man who hasn't the slightest intention to stand down.

Ah, chaos. It's satisfying to his dark, little soul at the moment, and he takes the time to watch the arguing with some kind of delight. Neil's poke is pointed enough to be obvious, but Alex has waited on a dirty beach for five weeks, full of tension, and right here and now, some of it is relieved. He expects the recriminations to continue, from the BOS as well as Neil, and when Neil speaks, he's prepared to stand down, as unsatisfying as it will be.

Except that's not what Neil asks.

And Neil doesn't ask as much as command.

Something in Alex responds to this.

The hand stretched out in front of Neil grasps the kid and tugs him into Alex's back for continued stability, then Alex grasps the barrel with that same hand, releasing a burst from the microfusion cells. The LAER+ has a large ammo capacity, holding twenty rounds. In Alex's hands, each hit a headshot, it takes four to disintegrate the former knight into a pile of dust.

His balance tips toward Alex's back, and there Neil stays, breathing in the heavy air. The heat in his body is wanting to choke him, but there are still things to do. Errors to point out and threats to take away, and amid it all, he's grateful. Perfectly grateful for the man standing in front of him.

Neil speaks before the rest of the Brotherhood can comprehend the death, his voice cold despite his fever. "I don't fucking deal with Outcasts," he comments. "Get the rest of your men out of here, Tanks."

Stand down apparently means to be shot into ashes, which spooks Johannson and Luis into action. They aim their rifles, intending to shoot the pair of wastelanders into oblivion, when Tanks again barks out an order.

Whether out of obligation or pure elation, no one can say.

"Enough!" he yells angrily, prompting the two men to still. He then turns his attention to the one responsible. No, not the giant oaf. "Park, we're even after this. And I'm still reporting you."

The aspect of reporting isn't something that Alex finds a delight in, but at the moment, he remains steady and waiting, peripheral vision locked on the two with guns ready. Neil's weight is heavy at Alex's back, and he needs to get the kid back to bed. Silent, he waits for something to shift further, perception stretched to his limits for the first sign of attack--

Perception stretched, he realizes there's a dog right behind Neil, silent and watchful. Further, Alex realizes the door to the room is now open. Finally, Alex looks away from the confrontation, wrenching his gaze back over Neil's head. "...Shit."

ED-E stays in the room, as Alex commanded, but Neil and Dogmeat leaving, coupled with the sounds of fighting and Alex yelling made the eyebot lean out nervously, wanting desperately to help his friends. At Alex's look, he beeps in question, wanting to come out. The muscles in Alex's jaw work, and he rips his gaze away, turning back to the group in question.

If nothing is started, nothing needs to be finished.

It takes a beat to realize his mistake. A careless slip of the broken mind, but Neil's kicking himself in an instant. He's throwing his head back to see Dogmeat. More importantly, to clearly see the form of ED-E gazing desperately from the open door.

Alex curses, and Neil furiously signals both dog and eyebot to go back into the room, hoping to whatever deity above that Tanks is still too stupid to notice.

Dogmeat instantly understands and turns to go, toward the friend waiting anxiously at the door.

Wait. Wait a motherfucking moment.

Tanks looks from the shadow at the far door before settling on Park's unknown friend. For once, his mind works out the kinks it's been harboring, and suddenly giddy at the realization, he readies the Tesla cannon.

"That was an eyebot," he states. "You're harboring Enclave fugitives. I thought--" He smiles wide beneath his helmet. "--there was something fishy about this. Men."

In tandem, Johannson and Luis ready their rifles.

"You have five seconds, Park, before we open fire on you and your 'friend.'"

Edited 2016-07-04 05:41 (UTC)

Nope. Nope nope nope. Alex reaches behind him again, grasping Neil's clothes and pushing him back and towards the wall for support. Alex steps forward into the room and shifts to the side, attempting to keep attention to him alone. The gun is angled down--for him, he's quick enough to whip it back up in a heartbeat. "I think I've been going about this all wrong," he starts.

"Last time around, I made a decision and committed it in secret. This time I should be more upfront. I'm Alex," he says pleasantly. "Alex Seattle Geer. From the Mojave Wasteland, out in Nevada--you might know California more?"

He stops moving, not wanting to provoke--in that method at the least. "There was a group out there. Elder Elijah's group, after he fucked up. Elder Nolan McNamara kept it going, though Head Paladin Edgar Hardin wanted to take over. Know any of those names?" he asks, each and every name burned into his mind. "Veronica Santangelo? Christine Royce?"

Fuck his life. Fuck his stupid shitty life. Neil's pushed back toward the wall as Alex moves into the room, all three Brotherhood eyes fixed on what they perceive to be the true threat. And they would be correct, Neil thinks.

Alex Seattle Geer. The Courier. Between him and three Brotherhood of Steel members, there's no doubt on who's going to come out on top.

It's a sign, he muses, that it's time to go. Go back into the room as requested by Alex earlier in that wretched conversation.

He walks swiftly, eyes watching for immediate dangers, into the open door, to the Laser RCW Recycler standing against the wall near the packs. He picks up the rifle and sucks in a breath, tension mounting behind his motions.

Dogmeat and ED-E are within his eyesight and safely within the walls. The former is tense but silent while it is the latter who's projecting the most distress. Neil raises a hand toward the eyebot, attempting reassurance despite the scenario. "Hey, hey," he says gently. "It's okay."

It's going to be okay, one way or another.

Edited 2016-07-04 06:16 (UTC)

Park steps back while his friend steps forward, but it's the latter who holding a damn fine energy weapon. Tanks and his men are going to be looking in the stranger's direction.

They receive a name. A name and a state. Of course, they know the NCR, the birthplace of their fine organization. Nevada as well. They know the chapters, the locations. They just don't know if there's even a connection to those places anymore.

Thus, the additional names given are not recognized. Nothing sparks a lick of sense in any of the men, and it's Tanks who finally scoffs at this Alex Seattle Geer.

"If I can't care about what's in front of me," he says pointedly, "what makes you think I care about a group that I can't see?"

Edited 2016-07-04 06:22 (UTC)

Neil returns to the room, and that's all that Alex cares about. He smiles pleasantly at the man in tin. "No one can see them anymore," Alex replies. "I got tired of them demanding weapons and tech from people in the Mojave and buried their chapter under two tons of rubble."

There's something remotely creepy about the guy's smile, about the insinuation of mass murder, enough for Luis to get the jitters. To shoot at Alex without a second's thought to his aim.

The one on the left fires in reaction, and in the split second that it takes for Alex to pull up the LAER+, his eyes narrowing in pleasure. The energy beam clips Alex's shoulder, which is fucking fine, because it allows him the extra moment to set up his shots.

The RobCo VATS program is a shortcut on his Pimp-Boy, and he activates it now to secure the accuracy needed to take down two targets. Three shots are all that are needed for each, and the men beside the one in charge both drop to the ground. One's head rolls further, bouncing off the back wall. "There was one thing they got right, though," he continues thoughtfully, as if nothing had happened. "They knew that my eyebot was something to be treasured, even if they only valued him for his tech."

In the room with the open door, ED-E beeps nervously at Neil's attempts at reassurance, part of him wanting to move closer to be pet by Alex's friend. The rest of him doesn't know if Alex is now mad at him, or if Alex needs help. He shakes, scared, and wishes they were back home where it was simpler. There is the sound of fighting, attacking outside, and ED-E registers the fact that Alex was hit. He jolts toward the door, before stopping, unwilling to cross the threshold and risk the threat that Alex had made. He stops there, hovering in dismay. Only to hear Alex's words cross the distance. Treasured? Alex...treasured him? He beeps to himself quietly, a sad sound in the room.

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