WIP (early) Weekend
I got tagged by @her-satanic-majesty to post a wip - here's something from a fnv one-shot i've been working on in bits and pieces.
“So,” Arcade said. “Did you find the place you were looking for? With the caravan?”
The courier's gaze didn’t move from the road ahead of them.
“Not really.”
“Oh. That’s…unfortunate.” Help, he silently flailed, but he received no other inspiration than the sensation of the sun searing his scalp. He adjusted his scarf, dabbed at the beads of sweat rolling down his neck, and went back in for attempt-at-friendly-small-talk number two. “So what happened? You were gone for a long time.”
“The weather got bad.” She squinted at the mile marker sign next to the road, then looked down at her notes, clearly much more absorbed in the trail than in this conversation. Not that he could especially blame her for that.
Their footsteps sounded much louder in the empty canyon. A vulture swooped overhead, gliding in low, lazy circles against the offensively blue sky. He swore he could actually hear the sun beating down on the rocks, a steady sizzle and hum of heat that vibrated through the air.
“I saw snow.” Her voice was quiet, like she'd been lost in thought. She said the words like an offering, and he took them, gratefully.
“Oh? Really? Wow.” He grimaced, realizing he was affecting the same tone he used when he explained to anxious children that this tetanus vaccine would only be a little pinch, they'd barely feel it, he promised. The kids usually ended up crying violently anyway. He cleared his throat. “I haven’t seen snow in forever. It never stuck around long, but we'd see it fall - “ He broke off. “When I was growing up. Not in the Mojave, because it doesn’t snow here. Well, believe it or not, the first year I came to Vegas, we did have some fall in the mountains around the city. The locals told me not to get used to it, though."
Bring it back around, Arcade, grab the lexical reins here -
“You know, your aphasia seems to be improving. A least, compared to what I remember before you left.”
She didn't stop walking entirely, but she actually, physically flinched. And stared up at him like he’d taken the laser pistol off his hip and shot a puppy right in front of her.
Or shot her twitchy eyebot, deviously bobbing at pace slightly ahead of them. He couldn't forget about the third member of this merry little band. Not for the first time today, he regretted that the Khans held so much animosity toward the NCR - the California dogs, as he'd heard them spit. Were it not for the history of wartime human rights violations, Boone tagging along on this trip instead of Arcade would have been better for probably everyone involved. Six looked back down at her Pip-Boy and fiddled with the dials. The relief he felt washing over him as the radio began playing could have doused this desert into full bloom.
not sure who's writing stuff right now, but I tag @chernobyl907 @ekatochekatos @her-satanic-majesty (it's technically been long enough that I can tag you back, I think) and anyone else who wants to share! Literally tag me in whatever, whenever, i love getting new snippets to read.
