all beat up

Beaumont ("Beat"), age 40. Powder Ganger, former raider, temporary RP blog. A sideblog tied to arovingtraderrp / Trader.

[allbeatup-blog]

RP: I Was Always A Fool

[arovingtraderrp-blog]

“It’s less likely to get me shot at by Rangers, if that’s what you’re asking,” the trader answered, a little heat still in his voice, “How’s being a Powder Ganger? You guys really think you can hold that prison forever? You shoul- no, never mind.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head, “Not now, never mind. If you actually want to talk, we can meet up somewhere another time. I need to clean my face and get this kid out of the heat, and you probably have…something to do.”

[gautierthegreat]

Gautier crossed his arms over his chest and slumped a bit. Part of him felt relieved, honestly. Going somewhere else sounded good right now, and he didn’t really want to be around the Powder Ganger any longer than he had to be.

“Th…that’s right. We got places to be.” Gautier let out a huff and shot Beaumont a final irritated look. “So there.”

[allbeatup-blog]

“F-fine!” Beaumont said, looking uneasily between them. It was clear he didn’t want to part ways just yet, “I’ll...be here, I guess. For a couple hours or somethin’.”

He sat down hard, then reached up and grabbed the radio and hugged it to himself, “I’m keepin’ this, so fuck off somewhere if you want but you wont have any music on my watch.”

[allbeatup-blog]

RP: I Was Always A Fool

[arovingtraderrp-blog]

The trader dragged his hands down his bloodied face. “Everyone stop yelling,” he hissed loudly, “Before the red head with the rifle or the old man with the explosives come out here to find strangers fighting in their town. And I’m younger than you are.”

[gautierthegreat]

“…ffff. Fine. Fine. Whatever.” Gautier grumbled and kicked at the dirt. “I don’t even give a shit anymore. I’ll stop yelling I guess.” His hand dropped from the trader’s shirt and he rubbed at his chin irritably.

Honestly, part of him wanted to start shouting again. Maybe if other people came they’d just shoot the Powder Ganger. That would solve everything.

[allbeatup-blog]

“I also don’t even give a shit anymore,” Beaumont announced, loudly. Then, more quietly, “‘Cept I do, though. It’s just too hot to fight about this anymore.”

He made a strange movement like he was going to fold his ‘arms’ but then dropped his hand to rest on his hip instead.

“So,” he drawled, suddenly calm again, “You’re a trader now. How’s the other side of the cap, sellin’ stuff instead of stealin’ stuff?”

[allbeatup-blog]

[allbeatup-blog]

RP: I Was Always A Fool

[arovingtraderrp-blog]

“None of your business,” the trader snapped. He spat some blood on the ground and waved Gautier back a bit.

“So you’re a Powder Ganger now,” he said to Beaumont, looking at the uniform coat tied around his waist, “I didn’t realize they’d put you in the NCRCF. Honestly, I thought they would have just executed you.”

He lifted Gautier’s goggles off his head slightly and let them snap back. “Quit yelling,” he said, “You’ll just rile him up.”

[gautierthegreat]

Gautier took another step back, though he didn’t let go of the trader’s shirt. Now that he had time to process things, his stomach felt like it was churning uncomfortably.

He almost opened his mouth to respond to the Powder Ganger’s comment, but something held him back. For one thing, it really wasn’t the guy’s business.

And for another…well, there wasn’t a lot he could argue was wrong about what he’d said for once, was there? He hadn’t said no to leaving Freeside all the times Trader had taken him, and there wasn’t exactly anyone to take him from anymore, but there were words that bugged him more for their arrangement. Gautier was his kid. He wasn’t his son.

He let out a yelp of surprise and reached up to rub his hair when Trader snapped his goggles, leveling a glare at him instead. “Sc…screw you too, old man. I’ll yell if I want.”

[allbeatup-blog]

“Why would they execute me? I surrendered!” Beaumont yelled, exasperated, “That was th’ whole point!” He rapidly paced in a tight circle a couple of times while gesturing wide as if to say to an audience ‘can you believe this guy?’. There was no audience.

He whipped around suddenly, pointed at Gautier,  and made a face at the trader. “See!” he yelled, “Yeah! We’ll yell if we want, old man!”

[allbeatup-blog]

RP: I Was Always A Fool

[arovingtraderrp-blog]

“He’s not Adelina’s,” the trader said flatly, instantly understanding what Beaumont was getting at, “Look at him, he’s obviously too old. And maybe everyone wouldn’t be dead if people like you hadn’t gotten your asses caught and sent to prison.”

He laid a hand on Gautier’s head and pulled him away from the Powder Ganger a little, rubbing at his face with the other. He stepped in front of the boy a bit. He didn’t believe for a second that Beat would ever actually attack a child, but it made him feel better.

[gautierthegreat]

Gautier took an angry step in the Powder Ganger’s direction, his tiny fists shooting up. “SCREW YOU! I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!” He didn’t care anymore about any of what was coming out of the guy’s mouth. The people they were talking about weren’t even alive, and he wasn’t even the trader’s real son to begin with.

Where he’d come from wasn’t anyone’s business anyway.

He calmed just a bit when Trader touched his head, letting his hands drop a little. Enough to stop yelling, at least. He shot Beaumont another spiteful look and took a step behind him, though he reached up to clutch at Trader’s shirt.

[allbeatup-blog]

“Too old,” Beat echoed thoughtfully, holding up his hand between himself and Gautier just in case the kid decided to attack him or kick dirt at him again, “Yeah. Too old. Yeah...he’s too old for you, too, right? He’d woulda been around when we were still in the gang.”

Beaumont made a face, “Why’s he callin’ you ‘dad’, then? Ain’t kidnappin’ a little beneath us?”

[allbeatup-blog]

RP: I Was Always A Fool

[allbeatup-blog]

The tall Powder Ganger clutched at the chest of his undershirt with his hand and lgrimaced for a moment, then sneered and crouched down to eye-level with Gautier.

“What’sa matter, kiddo?” he said, trying and failing terribly at putting on a gentle voice, “You don’t know your ol’ dad’s name? He tell you what he used to do, either? He ever tell you all his ol’ friends are dead as doorknockers and lyin’ in the desert as a bunch of skeletons, and one of ‘em oughta be his?”

He stood back up, already to his normal voice and too incensed to keep up the act like he was talking to Gautier. He lifted his arm, raising his voice while glaring at the trader, “I mean, I just went an’ figured one of ‘em had to be you! After all, my ol’ good buddy Cole would never just leave everyone to die and fuck off by himself to have a kid somewhere, would he? Naw, not Cole! Not mister The-Gang-Is-Everything-And-Anyone-Who-Leaves-Is-Garbage! He’d rather die, right? Am I right?”

He balled his fist and grit his teeth, struggling for a moment. “And it’s fucking hot out here!” he shouted.

[gautierthegreat]

Gautier took a wide step back when Beaumont knelt in front of him, his eyebrows furrowing in silent disbelief and disgust.

Now that the initial shock and sickness he felt were starting to wear off, the full impact of the guy’s words and reaction were sinking in. He looked between the two, something like recognition was beginning to dawn across his face.

He had seen the guy before. The picture had been old, and crinkled, and he hadn’t been its owner for a long time now. But how many times had he pulled that poster out and looked at it before he had given it back to Trader? How many times had he wondered if all the guy’s friends were as dead as his parents? It had never even occurred to him that there might be someone out there wondering almost the exact same thing about someone Gautier personally knew was alive.

But, more importantly, Trader had said the guy had left. And if he knew nothing else, Gautier knew something about being left behind.

Gautier felt his hands ball into tight fists and something stinging at the corners of his eyes. “I…don’t…care!”

“I don’t care! I DON’T!” He kicked at the ground in anger and frustration, sending up clouds of dirt and dust in Beaumont’s direction to punctuate his words. “LEAVE! HIM! ALONE!”

[allbeatup-blog]

Beat threw up his arm to block the sand from his face.

“Hey!” he shouted, “Don’t kick shit at me! Like hell I’m gonna leave ‘im alone, did you hear what I said?” He pointed at the Trader angrily, still looking at Gautier, “I had to leave all our friends, and then when I get outta prison, they’re all dead, ‘cept him! All of them, even-”

He stopped short and his eyes widened. He dropped his arm and peered at Gautier very closely suddenly. “You got green eyes,” he said. He turned to Trader, an accusing tone in his voice, “He’s got green eyes.”

[allbeatup-blog]

RP: I Was Always A Fool

[gautierthegreat]

Everything was crashing down around him again, and Gautier felt his stomach clench something awful and there was a lump in his throat. He felt like he was going to throw up.

Instead, he gripped the sleeve of the trader’s shirt and swallowed hard. “What. Wh-what does he mean, dead?” He turned his green eyes on Trader, searching his face for some sort of answer. “What does he mean, Cole?”

If he’d been thinking more clearly, maybe he wouldn’t have asked. Maybe he would have just let it go–grabbed Trader’s sleeve and pulled and pulled and pulled until he got up, begged him to just get them out of there already, and avoided the situation entirely. But everything was too familiar and too hard and for once he didn’t remember how to get up and run.

[arovingtraderrp-blog]

The trader held up a hand at both of them to quiet them and pressed the flat bridge of his nose with the other, trying to stem his nosebleed. He hoped it wasn’t broken.

“I was never dead,” he said to both of them. Then, to Beaumont, “That’s your own fault if you assumed I was. The hell did you attack me for? I should be mad at you. You’re the one who left.”

He stumbled back and leaned against the side of the house, rubbing at his bloody and tender face. He quietly tried to assess the damage: His vision was a little fuzzy in one eye but it would probably recover. His nose had been bleeding freely but it was stopping now and it didn’t feel out of place. His jaw was moving fine, though it hurt like hell. He could already feel an angry egg forming on his left cheekbone. Not bad. He’d live.

[allbeatup-blog]

The tall Powder Ganger clutched at the chest of his undershirt with his hand and lgrimaced for a moment, then sneered and crouched down to eye-level with Gautier.

“What’sa matter, kiddo?” he said, trying and failing terribly at putting on a gentle voice, “You don’t know your ol’ dad’s name? He tell you what he used to do, either? He ever tell you all his ol’ friends are dead as doorknockers and lyin’ in the desert as a bunch of skeletons, and one of ‘em oughta be his?”

He stood back up, already to his normal voice and too incensed to keep up the act like he was talking to Gautier. He lifted his arm, raising his voice while glaring at the trader, “I mean, I just went an’ figured one of ‘em had to be you! After all, my ol’ good buddy Cole would never just leave everyone to die and fuck off by himself to have a kid somewhere, would he? Naw, not Cole! Not mister The-Gang-Is-Everything-And-Anyone-Who-Leaves-Is-Garbage! He’d rather die, right? Am I right?”

He balled his fist and grit his teeth, struggling for a moment. “And it’s fucking hot out here!” he shouted.

[allbeatup-blog]

RP: I Was Always A Fool

[arovingtraderrp-blog]

The trader was indeed dazed, only even dimly aware of Gautier’s yelling. Once the flurry of punches (impressive for a man with only one fist) stopped, he dizzily reached up and pushed Beaumont off of himself.

“Fuck you,” he croaked, rolling over and gingerly touching his already-swelling jaw and cheekbone. He looked at Gautier as he stood up and gave him a weak little wave. “I’m fine, kid,” he said, “Thanks. It’s alright. He’s not going to kill me.”

[gautierthegreat]

The second the guy sat up, Gautier let go of him and began watching the trader like a hawk. He wasn’t moving. Why wasn’t he moving yet? He was supposed to be moving and Gautier couldn’t do this again, he couldn’t he couldn’t he couldn’t–

And there it was. Trader was sitting up. He was bloody, dazed, and confused, but he was in one piece. The lump in Gautier’s stomach dissipated just a little and relief washed over him as he rushed to the trader’s side. He reached out and touched his face gingerly for just a moment, almost like he was trying to reassure himself of something, but the moment passed quickly. He lowered his head, reared it back, and spit in the general direction of the other guy. “Screw you!”

That accomplished, Gautier turned back to Trader again. “Are you sure? He just beat the shit outta you! H…how the hell do you know he ain’t gonna kill you?”

[allbeatup-blog]

“Yeah, Cole” Beaumont said, very carefully brushing some dirt off his pantleg before standing up, “How the hell do you know h-...I ain’t gonna kill you?”

He brushed his mop of sandy hair out of his face, clearly annoyed that it had gotten dusty despite it’s eternal dishevelment. “‘Cause I oughtta,” he said, his voice thin and unsteady despite affecting an amused tone like he was telling a joke, “I really oughtta. ‘Cause, see, up...up until ‘bout sixty seconds ago, we were fine, you an’ me, ‘cause you were dead. Now you ain’t dead. So now we ain’t fine.”

[allbeatup-blog]

RP: I Was Always A Fool

[allbeatup-blog]

Beaumont stared right back, wide-eyed and unblinking. He stood up very slowly and without breaking eye contact, like he was trying not to alert an animal.

“Cole,” he said loudly and flatly. There was a moment of silence between the two of them as the taller man’s face took on a furious grimace. He gave a frustrated yell and jumped on the trader, knocking him to the ground and punching him viciously in the face over and over.

[gautierthegreat]

When the trader’s voice came from around the corner, Gautier felt a surge of relief. He turned to reply to him, ready to reprimand him for taking so goddamned long to be done and rescue him from this conversation already when he caught sight of the look on his face and froze in his tracks.

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong and even he could tell. The guy behind him said something–a name–and he barely managed to register what was happening when suddenly there was yelling and fists and oh god, oh god, the trader was bleeding his dad was bleeding–

“Stop it! Stop it stop it stopitstopit!” Gautier’s voice raised to a high, shrill pitch that he hadn’t managed in years, and something clutched tightly in his chest and he didn’t know what to do aside from pulling feebly at the one-armed man on top of Trader. “STOP IT! GET OFF MY DAD!”

[allbeatup-blog]

“Why aren’t you dead!” Beaumont yelled, as he reared back and punched the trader again, “Why aren’t you dead! Why aren’t you dead! Why aren’t you-”

He paused when the boy screamed, sitting back. He was straddling the trader’s chest to keep him down, but the man wasn’t making any move to get up anyway. Not even to fight back - too dazed, probably. Beaumont turned to look at the boy pulling at him and then back to the trader.

“Your son don’t look a damn thing like you,” he said after catching his breath.

[allbeatup-blog]

RP: I Was Always A Fool

[gautierthegreat]

“Wow. Don’t flatter yourself, gramps. I didn’t come out here looking for gross old dinosaurs like you. Uuuugh.” Gautier shot him a nasty look. “I just came out here to walk. Is that a goddamn crime now?”

As tough as he was trying to sound, the conversation was setting him on edge. He was mentally counting the steps he’d need to get back to the saloon already–he was probably fast enough that he could outrun this guy if he decided to so much as stand up. He looked scrawny and old and tired. And, honestly, at this point leaving was sounding like a better and better plan by the minute.

[arovingtraderrp-blog]

Trader had only stepped out of the saloon for a minute and already he could hear Gautier being obnoxious to someone nearby. This was per usual, so he wasn’t extremely concerned. Usually if the kid was still talking, he was fine. Still, it was hot out and they needed to get out on the road before it got worse around noontime.

“Stop picking fights with strangers,” he said as he rounded the corner of the abandoned house, “We’ve got to get going. I bought you a Nuka Co…”

He stopped dead the moment he laid eyes on Beaumont. He furrowed his brow and blinked a couple times like he was trying to understand what he was seeing, then simply stared openly in silence.

[allbeatup-blog]

Beaumont stared right back, wide-eyed and unblinking. He stood up very slowly and without breaking eye contact, like he was trying not to alert an animal.

“Cole,” he said loudly and flatly. There was a moment of silence between the two of them as the taller man’s face took on a furious grimace. He gave a frustrated yell and jumped on the trader, knocking him to the ground and punching him viciously in the face over and over.

[allbeatup-blog]

RP: I Was Always A Fool

[allbeatup-blog]

“I give a shit, that’s why I asked!” Beaumont replied indignantly from his spot on the ground, “Stop being a little asshole, it’s too hot to deal with this shit right now. I bet you never even seen a dinosaur.”

“I’m sorry,” he said immediately, sounding genuinely regretful, “That was a mean thing to say. The little asshole part, not that part about the dinosaur. Yer just a kid, I should be nicer.”

[gautierthegreat]

Gautier practically jumped when the guy raised his voice. He bit his lip and took another step back, furrowing his eyebrows together. The hell was wrong with–…wait, actually, never mind. It probably had to do with chems.

“Y…yeah? I mean…of COURSE it was a shitty thing to say!” He crinkled his nose. “You’re a stupid jerk, whoever you are. Oh my god.”

[allbeatup-blog]

“Well sure, but that don’t mean you gotta be so angry about it,” Beaumont whined, “I’m just sittin’ here, letting you listen to my radio! That’s not so bad, is it?” Never mind that it wasn’t actually his radio.

“What d’you want from me, kiddo? Huh? Food? Toys? More radios? I only got the one,” he said, “An’ I don’t actually have any toys, that was a lie. Sorry.”

[allbeatup-blog]

RP: I Was Always A Fool

[allbeatup-blog]

“I didn’t ask for shit,” Beaumont retorted, then switched back to a high, mocking voice, “Waaah, waaah, my dad has a jooob. You can’t talk to me this way!’ Get bent you little square. And it is hot.”

He was silent for a moment, then, as Johnny Guitar ended and Mr. New Vegas took over with the news.

“He’s got a good voice,” Beaumont said serenely, “I think he’s been on radio since I was yer age. I wonder how old he is.”

[gautierthegreat]

Gautier scrunched his nose and made a face. What the hell was this guy’s deal? Between the vaguely familiar vibe he was giving off and the uneasy feeling talking to him gave him in the pit of his stomach, he was genuinely starting to think about leaving the conversation altogether.

“Wh…who gives a shit how old he is? Probably, like, older than a goddamn dinosaur.” He scooted another step away and gripped the strap of his bag. “That’s a dumb thing to think about.”

[allbeatup-blog]

"I give a shit, that's why I asked!" Beaumont replied indignantly from his spot on the ground, "Stop being a little asshole, it's too hot to deal with this shit right now. I bet you never even seen a dinosaur."

"I'm sorry," he said immediately, sounding genuinely regretful, "That was a mean thing to say. The little asshole part, not that part about the dinosaur. Yer just a kid, I should be nicer."

[allbeatup-blog]

RP: I Was Always A Fool

[allbeatup-blog]

“Maybe I’m lonely!”  Beaumont shouted. He made a large gesture with one arm, the stump of the other trying to follow suit. “I’m just talking! And offerin’ to let you listen to my radio! I’m being nice!”

He dropped his arm again. “Fuck it’s hot,” he repeated, “If you’re so worried ‘bout people talking to you why’re you out here by yourself? You just said you have a dad twice.” He raised an eyebrow in judgement, “Personally I think it’s kinda rude to brag. ’Ooh, la-dee-dah, lookit me, I got a dad and I don’t do chems, we listen to the radio alllll the time! I got shoes and everything!’ Little fucker.”

[gautierthegreat]

“Maybe you’re kinda shit. You ever think about that, huh?” Gautier puffed his chest out self-importantly. “You’re asking me for stupid crap and being dumb.”

He stiffened his shoulders a bit. “And my dad’s busy. He’s a trader. So I’m stuck listening to weirdo creeps ask me for stupid shit and making stupid jokes and junk when I don’t really give a crap about ‘em whining. Plus you said it’s hot like three times. So you’re only to talk, asshole.”

[allbeatup-blog]

“I didn’t ask for shit,” Beaumont retorted, then switched back to a high, mocking voice, “Waaah, waaah, my dad has a jooob. You can’t talk to me this way!’ Get bent you little square. And it is hot.”

He was silent for a moment, then, as Johnny Guitar ended and Mr. New Vegas took over with the news.

"He's got a good voice," Beaumont said serenely, "I think he's been on radio since I was yer age. I wonder how old he is."

[allbeatup-blog]

RP: I Was Always A Fool

[allbeatup-blog]

“Oh,” he said, sounding a bit disappointed, “Good. It’s bad for you. Wish I had some.”

He slid down the wall until he was sitting and pointed to the radio, “You can change the channel if ya want when the song’s done. If the super mutant radio’s comin’ in today, it’s really funny. You ever heard it?”

He dropped his arm into his lap and looked tired, suddenly, “Fuck it’s hot out here.”

[gautierthegreat]

“I already know that shit’s bad for you. I’m from Freeside.” Gautier rolled his eyes. “And of course I’ve heard that shit before. We only really get it well on the road. Pops has a radio. It’s okay too, I guess.”

Like hell he was going to admit what sort of music he liked to listen to when some weirdo was asking too many questions.Playing up the fact he wasn’t alone seemed like an even better idea now than it had felt like earlier, and that was saying something.

He scooted just a few steps away and his eyes narrowed a bit. “You’re real talkative, gramps. The hell’re you so talkative for?”

[allbeatup-blog]

"Maybe I'm lonely!"  Beaumont shouted. He made a large gesture with one arm, the stump of the other trying to follow suit. "I'm just talking! And offerin' to let you listen to my radio! I'm being nice!"

He dropped his arm again. "Fuck it's hot," he repeated, "If you’re so worried 'bout people talking to you why're you out here by yourself? You just said you have a dad twice." He raised an eyebrow in judgement, "Personally I think it's kinda rude to brag. 'Ooh, la-dee-dah, lookit me, I got a dad and I don't do chems, we listen to the radio alllll the time! I got shoes and everything!' Little fucker."

[allbeatup-blog]

RP: I Was Always A Fool

[allbeatup-blog]

“A hundred million billion sounds a little high,” the blond man said very seriously, “Not high like too old but high like you sound really high right now. Way wasted. You aren’t doing jet, are ya, kid?”

He fiddled with the radio dial a little, trying to make the sound a little clearer. He wasn’t accomplishing much. “You shouldn’t do jet, it’ll stunt your growth. Do you have any?”

[gautierthegreat]

“Wh…of course I ain’t doing that shit! That’d be stupid.” Gautier crossed his arms over his chest and fixed the guy with an irritable look. At least the Fiend had the sense to not bother asking him for crap like that. “I don’t got any. Why the hell would I?”

[allbeatup-blog]

"Oh," he said, sounding a bit disappointed, "Good. It's bad for you. Wish I had some."

He slid down the wall until he was sitting and pointed to the radio, "You can change the channel if ya want when the song's done. If the super mutant radio's comin' in today, it's really funny. You ever heard it?"

He dropped his arm into his lap and looked tired, suddenly, "Fuck it's hot out here."

[allbeatup-blog]

*Walks by, eating an apple*

Hey lady, nice fruit!

[allbeatup-blog]

You’re welcome! Where’d you get it? Where’s anybody ever get fruit that ain’t mutfruit or banana yucca? Why d’you look familiar to me?

I could really go for an apple, though, seriously.

[layla-granville]

OH… you really were talking about fruit.  I’m afraid this is my last apple.  I’ve got a pear if you want, though.

[allbeatup-blog]

Woah! For free? A pear? Wait, why’d you avoid my question? Where you getting all these fruits?

[allbeatup-blog]

RP: I Was Always A Fool

[allbeatup-blog]

“Old!” Beaumont laughed at that, all scratchy-voiced and a little disjointed, slapping his knee, “I guess to a little runt, I gotta be!”

He settled back against the wall, pushing the radio unnecessarily closer to the boy. “It’s hot out here. You can listen if you wanna, “ he said, “You oughta. This is a good song. The tops. ‘S my favourite. How old d’ you think I am?”

[gautierthegreat]

“H…hey! I ain’t a RUNT, gramps!” Gautier crinkled his nose and made a face. “Screw you! You’re like…like…a hundred million billion years old!”

Still, he scooted just a little closer towards the radio and cocked his head. “It’s an okay song. I guess. My dad likes it a lot. He’s almost as old and weird and stupid as you, though.”

[allbeatup-blog]

"A hundred million billion sounds a little high," the blond man said very seriously, "Not high like too old but high like you sound really high right now. Way wasted. You aren't doing jet, are ya, kid?"

He fiddled with the radio dial a little, trying to make the sound a little clearer. He wasn't accomplishing much. "You shouldn't do jet, it'll stunt your growth. Do you have any?"