Tin Can Grand Slam

arovingtrader longform text rp blog! If there's anything you ever want me to tag, send me a note and I'll be happy to do so. short profile: former raider, now a trader. questionable morals. questionable prices. sort of adopted a kid part time. long profile + history note: trader is not a nice or moral person. it's safe to assume most of his views do NOT reflect my own. if something ever concerns you, send me a note and we can clear things up! var sc_project=9743934; var sc_invisible=1; var sc_security="9236326d"; var scJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://secure." : "http://www."); document.write("");

[arovingtraderrp-blog]

Cole is a character who belongs firmly in the Mojave. He was created for there and that’s where he works best. That’s where he was born, where his mother raised him, where his friends created a raider gang, where he became a trader. Where he fought Isfet, where he made his first friend in years in Charlie and his second in Layla, where he talked books with Sam and got scared by Vulpes. It’s where he visited New Vegas and where he traded snarky comments with Vasquez, where he fought people with a shovel in The Mormon Fort and made a frenemy in Giselle, where he chatted and traded with dozens of other characters and where he rediscovered the concept of family in an adopted son named Gautier.

With Fallout 4 only days away and with this blog having been spotty for months now, I realize it’s time for it to come to a close. This doesn’t mean Trader is dead, or that his story is over. It only means he’s no longer open for roleplay here. I’m sure I’ll be back with a new blog and a fresh character next year as we all get settled with a new Fallout game, and I’m excited to see what the fandom brings. Thank you for putting up with this rude man called Trader for over three years. See you “in Boston”!

[allbeatup-blog]

RP: I Was Always A Fool

[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.”

[arovingtraderrp-blog]

“Whatever,” the trader said, rolling his eyes. He placed a hand on Gautier’s back and steered him away, “That’s not even your radio. Let’s go, kid.”

Once they were out of Beaumont’s earshot, the trader pressed his lips together and flicked Gautier in the side of the face with his fingers. "What the hell is wrong with you," he hissed, "I let you out of my sight for ten minutes and you go chat up the nearest raider?"

[allbeatup-blog]

RP: I Was Always A Fool

[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?”

[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.”

[allbeatup-blog]

RP: I Was Always A Fool

[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!”

[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.”

[allbeatup-blog]

RP: I Was Always A Fool

[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?”

[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.”

[arovingtraderrp-blog]

And I’m not even sorry about it.

[allbeatup-blog]

RP: I Was Always A Fool

[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.”

[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.

[allbeatup-blog]

RP: I Was Always A Fool

[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.”

[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]

RP: I Was Always A Fool

[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.

[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.”

[allbeatup-blog]

RP: I Was Always A Fool

[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.”

[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.

[arovingtraderrp-blog]

The trader settled back as well, using his backpack as a backrest. He kept a close eye on the fire, though, always a little wary. He’d set food (and boots) on fire too many times.

“Right,” he said, “So…what are you and your robot doing out this far, anyway? I always thought NCR towns and The Strip were more your scene.”

[layla-granville]

“Ha,” she leaned back just a bit more.  “You forget I’m a courier.  We go everywhere.”  Despite her relaxed posture, she kept leaning up to check the food.  “NCR towns do tend to cause fewer gunshot wounds, however.”

[arovingtraderrp-blog]

“Speak for yourself,” he replied wryly, pleased to hear the bacon starting to sizzle, “And do you actually still couri...erate? I figured you were busy these days with whatever it is you do for the NCR or on The Strip.”

[arovingtraderrp-blog]

georgiathxnder replied to your post:Would you ever kiss a yao guai?

Don’t avoid the question, honey.

I mean...is there some sort of incentive for me to be kissing a mutant animal, here, or am I just being asked if I’m especially hot for giant murder bears?

aufhocker replied to your post:Would you ever kiss a yao guai?

ever kiss a YAOI guai

I don’t know what the difference is, so I’m just going to go with “maybe”.

[arovingtraderrp-blog]

Would you ever kiss a yao guai?

...Why are you asking me this. Is there something I need to know.

[arovingtraderrp-blog]

“That’s fine,” he shrugged, “I usually do mine on foil over the fire. Its faster that way. And crunchier. Also sometimes it catches on fire, and you know how I like bright and shiny things. But I suppose we can do it your way.”

He put the egg into Layla’s wire coil and handed it back, careful not to tip it too much.

[layla-granville]

Layla settled the egg next to the fire as steadily as she could.  Then the bacon went on the rock.  “If the bacon doesn’t get crispy enough, we can always finish it on the fire.” “This way,” she sat back.  “We don’t have to pay too much attention to everything while it cooks.”

[arovingtraderrp-blog]

The trader settled back as well, using his backpack as a backrest. He kept a close eye on the fire, though, always a little wary. He’d set food (and boots) on fire too many times.

“Right,” he said, “So...what are you and your robot doing out this far, anyway? I always thought NCR towns and The Strip were more your scene.”

[arovingtraderrp-blog]

[A sour-looking (and familiar) man approaches.] "H...hey. You. I got somethin' I'm lookin' fer... again. Ain't interested in any funny business, though, okay? Just a bus- business... thing."

[He turned to the man with a suspicious eye.] …Uh-huh. Alright, I’ll bite. What are you looking for?

[arovingtraderrp-blog]

The trader wrinkled his nose, giving the jerky a suspicious look.

“Yeah,” he said, “I know how jerky works. ‘Some sorta lizard’, though, that’s pretty vague. But as long as it’s edible and not completely radioactive, I guess it’s fine…me and the kid don’t get enough meat to eat anyway. You have a deal.”

[frank-archive-blog]

Frank shook his head. “Nuh uh. Not radioactive. ‘F it was, I’d be all… nasty ‘n sick right now.”

Probably not the most reassuring words from a man who was covered in filth and smelled like death, but he shoved the jerky into Trader’s hands anyway. He might have lied about the whole ‘lizard’ bit, but the meat was good enough, in Frank’s mind. It didn’t matter to him and it shouldn’t matter to this guy and his… ugh… kid? Frank felt a pang of irritation at the realization that that must mean that this guy–this lying jerk!–was a dad. Ugh! The thought made Frank very jealous, but he had business he needed to finish up.

“Now gimme those glasses.”

[arovingtraderrp-blog]

“Hey, I had rad sickness once,” he said as he handed over the glasses quickly, always eager to be done with a transaction, “You’d be surprised. Seems like you’re fine for ages, and then bam! It catches up with you. I’ll take your word for it, though.”

He tucked the food away and straightened his bag, “Enjoy your glasses. We all set?”

[gautierthegreat]

RP: Rum and Coca Cola

[arovingtraderrp-blog]

The trader folded his arms and cocked his head, squinting critically at the drawing.

“Well,” he said slowly, trying not to be too critical, “That’s…pretty close. You’ve got the right idea. That’s a start.”

He crouched down and extended two of the lines downwards a bit. “You’ve gotta remember it has these little legs.”

[gautierthegreat]

Gautier let out a frustrated noise and slapped his face with the palm of his hand. “Eeeuuggghhh, whatever. It’s your fault for making me do it without looking. And I’ve only been at this shit…what, a coupla hours?”

He peeked between his fingers a moment later. “Anyway, I drew your stupid A. Now can I have something to drink?”

[arovingtraderrp-blog]

"Barely!" the trader retorted indignantly as he returned to the tap, "But yeah. It's hard to learn the alphabet if you die of thirst, I guess. Here." He tossed Gautier one of the bottles of water, filled another, and then walked over and sat down. He swiped the 'A' they'd drawn out of the dirt with his hand. "Alright," he said, "Do an O now. Uppercase and lowercase."

[arovingtraderrp-blog]

“Of course, darling,” the trader cooed, shooting ED-E a look as he said it and waving it away, “It’s the husband’s job to be the handyman of the house.”

He held the egg against the ground, safely upright, as he began to help stoke at the fire with his other hand, “That’s how it goes. The man fixes things, the woman cooks, and the family robot murders unwelcome solicitors.” He gestured at the remains of the deathclaw nearby.

[layla-granville]

The courier was still laughing at that.  “I’m glad I can depend on you, my sweet.”  She had made a coil of wire to stick the egg into and handed it over to Trader.  “How do you feel about hot rock bacon?  Best way to cook it, in my opinion.”  A nice flat rock had already been selected and butted up against the growing fire.

[arovingtraderrp-blog]

“That’s fine,” he shrugged, “I usually do mine on foil over the fire. Its faster that way. And crunchier. Also sometimes it catches on fire, and you know how I like bright and shiny things. But I suppose we can do it your way.”

He put the egg into Layla’s wire coil and handed it back, careful not to tip it too much.