Having heard rumor of a Frumentarius among the ranks of the Followers of the Apocalypse, Boone was making his rounds stating how clear it was that he was against the Legion. Partially, he wanted to stir trouble, to draw the Legionnaire out and hopefully kill him. Partially, he wanted to make sure those who weren’t Legion were intimidated by his rifle to stay that way.
“Good.”
the visitor wasn’t here to seek aid, nor provide supplies. he didn’t carry that altruistic spirit that seems so rare to find in many wastelanders nowadays. his time spent here has only added unneeded tension, and while some followers weren’t fazed, danny most definitely was. his eyes flicker between the man and his weapon, about as frequently as the smile that falters and forces itself back up on his mouth.
( there is also no way he plans to give out someone he considers a friend, another follower. or, so he likes to think. )
❛ is there – uh, anything else ya need, sir ? things’re — we’re kinda in short supply of rad-x here … if you have any to spare, we’d appreciate it !❜
“Wedding cakes can go up to over a thousand American dollars; are you sure your cravings are that serious?”
❛ huh ? sure i am !—- jeez, a thousand?❜ a hand digs into his pocket only to pull out clumps of a twenty, tens, and singles. he takes a second to count the total.
❛ uh, h– how much does seventy-eight dollars get me ?❜
STRANDED. no means to get out. everyone sent out never comes back. help is a distant solace too far for comfort as a whiteness plagues your surroundings. a black mass off into the distance is IMMENSELY LARGE AND FOREBODING, but it doesn’t move. you’re stuck here with a relentless reel of the same question: WHAT IS GOING ON?
STRANDED. no means to get out. everyone sent out never comes back. help is a distant solace too far for comfort as a whiteness plagues your surroundings. a black mass off into the distance is IMMENSELY LARGE AND FOREBODING, but it doesn’t move. you’re stuck here with a relentless reel of the same question: WHAT IS GOING ON?
❛ huh ? is that — that’s .. not what it means ?❜ regards the sign once more as if he misread it the first time. living on a harbor whose only land was an unoccupied island filled with dead grass and trees, the topic of roadways were a mystery to him.
he shakes his head. “nah. it means they’re working on the road. like, doing construction work and stuff. which sucks, ‘cause that means traffic a good chunk of the time.” he glanced over at the other. “you’ve really never driven? like, on a road or anything?” he’s not meaning to say it as if to imply danny was stupid in any way, either. it was just hard for him to believe.
rain streaks the windows and bulbs of street lamps blur with the motion of their car. he finds his body and head twisting everywhere, but pulled back to cody with his question. “i mean, well— i drove before.” steered a boat, technically. he turns his gaze ahead again, focus bouncing everywhere at all things new. “does everyone drive here? i wouldn’t be surprised, this— the whole mainland is huge! i’ve been here during a few trips before, but it’s always such a sight.” a hand hovers over the radio buttons, mentally connecting its familiarity with the one back home. “where are we headed off to, again?”
