Snippet #2416184

Connor laid down his hand, an impressive flush. Under his helmet was a stupid grin at the unveiling of his hand, with a glimmer of confidence seeming to just shrine through. John looked impressed for a second, but then his expression morphed into that of of a scowl.


John then lays down his hand. A royal flush. His face once again morphs from that scowl to a charming grin. Victory was radiating from John's core. He had won his caps both from a better hand, and because his opponent was cheating. His arms came around the table and scooped the caps back towards him.



Perhaps John spoke too fast for fate's liking, or maybe it was just because he was an unlucky son of a bitch, but as soon as he finished bringing the caps to his end of the table, one of the back legs of his wooden chair snapped and sent him on his back.



Conner's head snapped to John's right arm, and a cold stare ensued.



John rolled his head over to his right side so he could see what Conner was referring to. There were some cards spilling out of his sleeve.



John began to stand up and dust himself off, placing all the cards back into the deck.



The two began to clean up their area and just take back their starting caps. The sun was high in the sky and cooked everything under it's bright rays. The area the two exiles had settled on was a small mechanic's shop, abandoned long ago. The garage door was left open to allow the rare but much appreciated breeze to sweep in and cool John down a little. Tools littered the ground, most of them so rusted they might just snap in two when picking them up. The small metal table that had been used for the poker game resided in the dead center of the room. A fine layer of dust coated everything, most likely radioactive as well, but what wasn't.

John put that deck of cards back on his belt. He took out the playboy magazine page and looked it over once for good measure. It was a beautiful young woman, wearing a few bits of cloth that resembled a maid outfit somehow was called clothing. Damn it'd be nice to have her here right now. Conner glanced over to the magazine page in John's hand and under the helmet was rolling his eyes.



John just put his hands up in a shrug and smirked. He put the page back onto his belt and felt around for something else. When he didn't find what he wanted at first, he looked up at Conner.



John continued to accuse Conner as Conner checked his own pack just to show John what a prick he was being. It was while looking through his pack that he noticed that he was missing some caps. He then turned his head to John.



John and Conner continued yelling at each other aimlessly, with neither side able to hear the other over their own yelling. Fingers were being pointed, fists raised in the air, and arms flailing around in order to make their argument. But one thing did come to shut them up, and that was when they both happened to look over to the small desk in the corner of the room where they left their food. There was a serving of cram they had left on a plate that they planned on eating after the poker game, with both of them taking half. But there was a bite already taken out of it. John and Conner both snapped their heads back to each other in that instant.

"You son of a bitch!" "You son of a bitch!"

There was a long and drawn out silence. Neither one of them took the slightest movement. It seemed like radioactive dust was forming on them because of how still and long that moment was. The sound of gunfire could be heard in the far off distance, but that was something that was completely normal in the wastes. It was John who took the first action to break the silence, throwing his hands up into the air quickly in the "fuck this shit" manner.



And with that, the two packed up the little they had and were back on the road. The Long 15. The road lived up to its name for sure, as it was a long trek. There wasn't much to do on the road other than walk. Not many animals could be seen, and there were practically no buildings to take shelter in or scavenge from. The sun beat down on the duo, mainly John, and baked everything. The heat waves in the distance could make one nauseous after staring at them for too long, and mirages would often appear off in the horizon. The occasional Gecko attack would occur or the rare raider attack, but those were short lived and easily handled by the power armored tank and the agile quick shooter. The two of them however, could not shake the feeling that someone, or something, was watching them. They would never spot anything to confirm this though, at all, and so they just blamed their imagination.

Their route consisted of following the road until they came across the right turn towards Nipton. From there they planned to just head up to New Vegas and see what they could fuck up over there. The silence that John demanded lasted for a good long while, the tensions not lowering for one second. They hadn't spoken for days. And each day, they found something was missing. Nothing big, of course, but small things that got really annoying. Each time John would just clench his jaw and continue the vow of silence, to which Conner upheld as well, or at least for a while. Conner was, indeed, the one to end the piercing silence and break out into song on their walk.





The silence was once again present. It persisted for maybe a single, painful moment.



John then opened his mouth once more, his voice very loud and controlling.



"The food is the spreadiest" "The wine is the headiest
"The pals are the readiest" "The gals are the steadiest
"The love the liveliest" "The life the loveliest
"Way back, way back" "Way back, home