Bad Company || Nuka & Mittens
Nuka hadn't wanted to move the past few days. Nope. Nopers. He could be a rock. There was nothing wrong with being a rock. Rocks were sufficiently useless and bad company. There was nothing wrong with being bad company; being the person no one wanted around. That was the person he'd been his entire life, right?
Eventually though, he'd grown tired of what felt like his muscles disintegrating with disuse, and his body had started begging for food and water, and had rolled out of bed with a silent sigh, legs quivering with the effort to stand. He just didn't have the energy for it anymore.
He'd trudged to the dining car, and immediately flopped into one of the booths, not bothering to sit up straight but instead simultaneously splaying himself on the seat while tucking out of sight. He ended up with his head stuck under the table cloth, but really, this was okay with him. He couldn't think of anywhere better to be.








