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nightingaelic · 3 years

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Reactions to a vampire courier? Companions plus Benny, Ulysses, Graham, House, Caesar, and Yes Man. (sorry if that's too many :x)

TW: Blood (maybe obviously)

Also I don't normally feel some type of way about AUs but the idea of Joshua Graham encountering a vampire courier is giving me shivers

The courier was a little... strange. Not in any way that stood out to the average wastelander just by looking at them, everyone in the Mojave had their quirks and the courier was no exception. Hell, you get shot in the head and come back, you're bound to have a screw or two loose. They were unquestionably a night owl, but so were half the people on the Strip, who only started to wake up after the sun had gone down and the slot machines were singing their loudest. They usually had bags under their bloodshot eyes, but every caravan driver from here to the Hub was short on sleep.

On the other hand, the courier had some habits that were a little beyond surface-level eccentricities. For one, no one had ever seen them eating, not once. Even when the King laid out a spread of pre-war snacks and liquor or when the buffet at the Tops was refreshed, they politely declined and took a swig from the canteen that they never offered to anyone else. They were also rather odd about bathrooms, insisting that anyone accompanying them remain outside on watch and let no one else through the door until they were finished. But the undeniable moment of oddity came one night in October, when their companion rounded a corner in Freeside after a trip to the Atomic Wrangler and discovered the courier behind a rusted dumpster, holding a man against a brick wall with their teeth buried in his neck.

The courier drew back at the interruption, blood smeared across their face. "I'm not- it's not what- he- oh, fuck."

Arcade Gannon: Arcade stared open-mouthed for a moment, before snapping violently back into the present. "Is he dead?"

"Umm..." The courier glanced at the man they were holding, whose head was lolling against the bricks. "Yes? Mostly."

With no patient to resuscitate, Arcade rounded on them. "Six, what in the ever-loving fuck are you doing?"

The courier tried to wipe away the blood that was dribbling from their chin, but they only succeeded in spreading it up their jawline. "Well, I, um, I was trying to..."

Whatever excuse they were searching for eluded them, so they dropped the pretense. "I was feeding, Arcade."

"Feeding? What, like some kind of-" Arcade's eyes widened and he cut his sentence off early in realization. "No. No way. That's not- vampires aren't real!"

That earned him a look of intense skepticism. "Arcade, we've fought off plant monsters and rattlesnake-coyote hybrids together. I have a gun in my pack that lets me teleport."

"Oh, okay, so you have some kind of iron deficiency and you're delusional." Arcade laughed, the sound high and harsh in the quiet alley. "Great. Fuck."

Craig Boone: Rather than engage in an abandoned alley, Boone immediately backtracked to a busier street. He was unsurprised when the courier didn't follow him: Even in Freeside, someone covered in blood was sure to be noticed and questioned.

Boone left town that night and made for Novac. He was pretty sure the courier would follow him, but he didn't know where else to go. At least he knew they were coming. A few people in Novac asked about where he'd been, what the courier was up to, but eventually they stopped asking.

A couple of weeks went by. Boone was on the night shift again when the door into the dinosaur swung open to reveal the courier. He'd heard someone coming, their feet on the stairs, and he already had his gun pointed in their face. "We will never work together again," he said, before they could open their mouth.

"Boone, can you just-"

"I don't want an explanation." Boone shook his head. "I don't need one. I already did you a favor, leaving New Vegas without putting you back in your grave. This is over."

The courier took a deep breath. "71."

"What?"

"71. I've killed 71 Legion soldiers and left their bodies empty under the Mojave sky." They looked down and shuffled their feet. "I've tasted their fear. They're more scared of me than the Burned Man, now."

Boone studied them. Ever so slowly, he lowered his gun.

Lily Bowen: "Put him down, dearie," Lily chastised them. "You're playing too roughly with that man. And watch your language around your grandma!"

The courier looked down at their victim, at their torn throat and limp limbs. "He tried to mug me, Lily. It wasn't pretty."

"He looks like he's had enough," Lily insisted. "Set him down. Gently."

With a sigh, the courier obliged and lowered the man to the ground. "I'm sorry, Lily. I should have told you earlier. I don't mean to be rude when I turn down your cooking, I just... I can't seem to..."

"Hush, now." Lily produced her enormous handkerchief and gathered the courier up in her arms, dabbing at the blood on their face with a corner of the cloth. "You've gotten it all over yourself, haven't you? We can clean that right up, but it looks like Grandma's going to have to do a load of laundry. You made the mess, so you get to help."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: Raul swallowed nervously, something he'd noticed he was increasingly doing around the courier. "You know, we get murciélagos down in Arizona that do the same thing. They won't leave the brahmin alone."

The courier took in his anxious stance and sighed. "Raul, I'm not going to hurt you. Prometo. It's okay."

"Sure boss, but I don't think the hair on the back of my neck is going down anytime soon." Raul smiled, but it was more of a grimace. "Or it wouldn't, if I still had any. Como..?"

"No clue." The courier shrugged and held their hands up, letting the corpse they'd been holding slide to the ground. "I think it had something to do with me surviving Benny's best attempts to do me in, but a bullet is a bullet and I don't remember if I was like this before, or..."

"Or only after." Raul chuckled. "Jesucristo, and here I am thinking I'll outlive you like most everyone else I've known."

"Yep."

"Should I start calling you el chupacabra?"

The courier grinned, a bloody smile with sharp teeth.

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: "Fuck," Cass echoed, scrambling to pull her shotgun from its holster. "Knew I had too much, can't even- who are you and what've you done with the courier? Some kind of cannibal, wearing their skin? Alien? Shapeshifter? I'll blow a hole in your liver to match mine!"

"Whoa, Cass, it's me, it's me!" The courier dropped the man they were holding and held their blood-stained hands up. "Same old Six, just... maybe I wasn't straight with you about why I don't order anything at bars."

"Goddamn right you weren't straight with me!" Cass gestured at the body on the ground with the barrel of her gun. "Who's the fucker on the floor and why are you two pints in on him?"

"Just trying to get my drink on," the courier muttered.

Cass repaid this facetiousness with a jab of her shotgun, and they raised their hands higher. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry! You tell me, how do you tactfully tell someone that you're a creature of the night and you need to drink blood to survive?"

"Creature of the night? You're fucking loopy." Cass' eyes narrowed. "There's plenty of critters in the Mojave that only come out when it's dark, but most of them don't tear into..."

She trailed off into curses when she realized she was wrong. The courier smiled hesitantly and lowered their hands an inch. "Hey. Let me chuck this failed mugger in the dumpster and we can talk about it like a pair of civilized folks?"

Veronica Santangelo: Veronica squeaked and fell back a few steps, banging her elbow against the edge of the dumpster. A jolt of confused pain shot up her arm, and the Scribe couldn't help giggling harshly at the sudden assault on her funny bone.

"Not- laughing... at murder," she managed to get out between hisses of pain. "Oh, for the love of... right, you're not getting out of explaining what you are, exactly, just because I'm indis-indisposed!"

The courier couldn't help laughing at the squirming Scribe, but they did their best to stifle it. "Sorry, I'm sorry, I um... I guess I don't really know... what I am?"

"There's books!" Veronica burst out, pointing at the courier and their victim wildly. "I've seen them, in old libraries. Creatures that feed on blood, only come out at night, don't show up in... in mirrors, of course, no wonder you're weird about bathrooms, I should test... Dracula! That's it, you're a Dracula!"

"A Dracula?" The courier held their hands up, as if seeing them anew. "Never heard of them. Are they... bad?"

"Well, traditionally, yes." Veronica made a face and rubbed her elbow. "Black cloaks, sleeping in coffins, seducing and manipulating everyone around them... and people don't like it when you take their blood, in my experience."

"Whose blood have you taken?"

"This isn't about me, Six!"

ED-E: The eyebot bobbed wildly and made noises of concern, blips and blats and a flat burst of trumpets from some old jazz tune.

"I was hungry," the courier protested. "And this asshole pulled a knife on me and wanted all of my caps. Probably more than that, if we're being honest. He wasn't doing the world any good, but he did me some, for sure."

ED-E flipped between old clips of a Silver Shroud radio show. "Well, isn't this a deep, dark <static> secret? <static> In a situation such as this, the best anyone can do is <static> try to control it!" The robot added some more concerned beeps for good measure.

"I'm trying," the courier said with a sigh, looking down at the dead man they were holding. "You know I wouldn't hurt some random person, ED-E. Not if I could help it. The Mojave's full of bad people, enough to keep me going if I'm careful."

Rex: The hair on Rex's spine stood up, and he let out a long, low growl. The courier froze for a moment, before realizing that he was growling not at them but at the man they were holding.

"He's dead, Rex," they reassured the cyberdog, lowering the corpse to the floor for inspection.

Rex sniffed the body over, taking in the copper scent of his blood and the Freeside stink on his clothes. He sniffed the courier too, each of their hands they held out to him and the thick headiness of adrenaline. He whined and wagged his tail twice.

"Good boy," the courier said, straightening up. "It's about time I turned in, anyway. Let's dump this guy and split."

Benny Gecko: Benny crossed his arms. "You know, Six, if you're dead set on getting your kicks in Freeside every now and then, you might want to ease up on the passions with the next greaser you snag. This one's torn all to pieces."

"I wasn't- what kind of-" The courier dropped the man they were holding and sputtered. "Christ, only you could make a midnight murder awkward, Benny."

"Murder?" Benny raised his eyebrows and looked from side to side theatrically. "Who said anything about a murder? All I saw was some dreamboat and the best apple butterer of New Vegas playing back alley bingo, officer."

The courier's eyes narrowed. "Not gonna rat me out? Tell the King or somebody that I'm..."

"What, taking a page out of the White Glove Society's book?" Benny held his hands up. "None of my business. Well, if you ever come for me with that look in your eyes, though, that'll be a different story."

"Not much you'd be able to do," the courier pointed out. "You already tried and failed to kill me once."

Ulysses: Rather than react like any normal wastelander might've upon encountering someone attacking a man with their teeth, Ulysses just stood there, taking the scene in. "Heard tales of a tribe like you. East, farther east than even I've walked... a coven hiding in tunnels, emerging only when their hungers grow too strong to ignore, strong enough to pull blood from the veins of the world around them."

"Well, I don't hide in tunnels." The courier grimaced and heaved their victim up over their shoulder, depositing them unceremoniously in the dumpster. "Unless some disgruntled Frumentarius sends me out to hunt mutants under Hopeville."

"Perhaps you have more in common with those predators than I assumed," Ulysses admitted. "But then, your path has always run red. Blood of the Old World, blood of the new, blood of the Bull and the Bear..."

The courier rolled their eyes as they peeled off their red-stained coat and tossed it in the dumpster as well. "Don't talk to me about blood. I know you've seen just as much as me, but it doesn't mean the same thing when I look at it."

Ulysses cracked a hint of a smile. "You see life where I see death. Two sides, courier."

"Yeah, yeah. If you're not going to try to kill me, come on. You can wax poetic and lecture me about which road I'm walking while I take a shower."

Joshua Graham: "A creature far from God," Graham said in his most reproachful tone. "Forever damned for the souls of the innocent they've taken from the earth. Aren't we a pair, courier."

"You can fuck right off with that attitude." The courier dropped the man they were holding and wiped their hands on their coat. "He tried to kill me first. For some caps."

"The crimes of others do not absolve you of your own sins, courier," Graham continued, leisurely retrieving his gun from its holster. He held it up in the muted neon light that filtered through the alley, turning the weapon this way and that. "Though I confess I am also looking for absolution in this way."

"Are you going to kill me?" the courier asked, eyeing the gun as well.

"I've no doubt it would leave this world better than when you walked it," Graham replied. "But my own opinions are not enough to seal your fate. Perhaps we should find this man's family and hear their feelings on the matter."

The courier took a step forward, then another, until their chest was right up against the pistol's muzzle, pressed against the fabric of their shirt. "Go ahead. Try."

And though Joshua Graham was sorely tempted to pull the trigger, though the courier made no move to stop him, something in their eyes... some faraway pain, older than the desert itself, fresh as the blood on the ground, stayed his hand.

He lowered the gun, chastised, and the courier walked away.

Robert House: The Securitron that bore Robert House's face on its screen leveled a minigun at the courier. "Whoa!" the courier protested, dropping their victim and putting their hands out. "Can't we talk about this?"

"And what have we to discuss?" House sounded absolutely disgusted. "I believe you're familiar with my contract with the White Glove Society. If they wish to continue their current prosperity in New Vegas, cannibalism is strictly forbidden. You are subject to the same terms and conditions, as one of my employees."

"Terms and condi- hold on, hold on, you never asked me whether I was a cannibal," the courier replied. "Are you talking about that document you had me sign, way back when I agreed to help you fight the NCR and the Legion?"

"The very same."

"How is that fair? That thing was over 200 pages long, I didn't grow up in the 21st century, I don't have a degree in... okay, okay." The courier waved their hands. "Cannibalism is a no-go. This isn't cannibalism, this is vampirism."

"Which falls under the definition of cannibalism," House replied, his annoyed tone still detectable over the sound of the minigun spinning up. "Section 3.65, subsection F. Next time, read the fine print."

Caesar: The Legion's great leader pivoted in an instant from surprise to quiet anger. "Clean yourself up, courier. I expect to see you in my quarters within the hour."

He turned and left the alley swiftly, letting his powerful stride and swinging cloak cover his shaken confidence. The people of Freeside cowered as he passed, shrinking into the shadows as he made his way back to the Strip, but the fear in their eyes was not enough to erase the image of the courier bent over in bloodlust, holding their victim in total subjugation.

The courier found him on the top floor of the Lucky 38, gazing out over the city he had conquered and named his Rome. "Leave us," Caesar bid his Praetorian Guard. They bowed and departed the room without question.

"You asked to see me," the courier said nervously, shifting their weight from foot to foot. They had changed clothes, and no trace of blood remained on them.

"I did." Caesar beckoned them to the window next to him. They stood in silence for a moment, watching the lights wink below.

"I'm a well-read man, courier," Caesar said finally. "I know the legends of the Old World, and I recognize the marks of one of their nightmares in you. I order you to tell me the truth: Do you fit the full definition of the creature they called 'vampire,' or do you simply mimic the things to add to your fearsome affect?"

The courier didn't answer right away. When they did, their voice was soft. "I pretend to be nothing. I am what I am."

"And everything that comes with it?" Caesar pressed. "Darkness, the blood of the innocent, eternity?"

"Yes."

Caesar turned to face them fully. "Then I, Almighty Caesar, command you to make me as you are."

Yes Man: "Now that's a twist I didn't see coming!" Yes Man said, his happy tone only slightly tempered with uncertainty. "Boy, am I glad I don't have a circulatory system right now!"

The courier shushed the Securitron and looked around the alley surreptitiously. "Yes Man, I swear to god, if you blow my cover I'm disassembling you."

"As I've told you before, I can't technically die!" Yes Man reassured them. "And I certainly wouldn't want to endanger you and your hobbies, but my volume mixer is tied to my enthusiasm simulator and I can't adjust it! You'll just have to hope any passersby aren't interested in following my friendly voice into an alley!"

"Then go back to the Lucky 38 and we'll talk later," the courier insisted, through gritted teeth.

"I technically never left! But if you mean this Securitron, sure thing!" Yes Man zoomed away on his single wheel, whistling the whole way back to the casino where the rest of his consciousness was housed. He kept whistling as he ran probability algorithms, only pausing when the courier returned after a few hours and crossed their arms in front of his main screen.

"Hi there!" he said joyfully. "I've just been cross-checking Mr. House's records on noteworthy disappearances in the Strip, and I've flagged eight of them as potentially being connected to you! I don't want to assume your intentions, but if you don't want to be found out, I've developed a plan for choosing your next victims that will help you remain undetected in New Vegas for 184 years! Give or take a few!"

The courier put their head in their hand and sighed.

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fantomcomics · 3 years

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What’s Out This Week? 12/8

It’s the last month of 2021. We can do it, gang. Let’s finish strong!

Crimson Cage #1 (of 5) - John Lees & Alex Cormack

Double double toil and rumble...Brace yourself for a No-Holds-Bard reimagining of William Shakespeare's Macbeth from the critically-acclaimed creators of Sink. New Orleans, 1984. Chuck Frenzy is the main event star of the local Louisiana pro wrestling territory, but yearns for something greater. A fateful encounter with a trio of terrifying beings in the Bayou gives Chuck a glimpse of championship glory beyond his wildest dreams...if he is willing to do something terrible to achieve it.

Buffy The Last Vampire Slayer #1 (of 4) - Casey Gilly & Joe Jaro

Can a lone Slayer save what's left of humanity? Buffy Summers is the last Slayer. Now in her 50s, she wages a one woman fight against the forces of darkness, who prey on humanity in the daylight unimpeded thanks to a magical catastrophe that has nearly blotted out the sun. The same disaster robbed Buffy of her friends and ended the Slayer-line, forcing her into an endless guerilla war. That is, until she stumbles across something she hasn't seen in a long time - hope, in the form of a prophecy and the young girl who carries it.

Buckhead #1 (of 5) - Shobo Coker & George Kambadais

What strange secrets lie in the mysterious town of Buckhead, USA? Toba and his mother, a renowned scientist, have just immigrated to the US. But instead of living in the Big City like Toba always dreamed, they've moved to a sleepy little town in the Pacific Northwest called BUCKHEAD. In the middle of the picturesque and pedestrian town, Toba discovers that things aren't as perfect as they seem. Toba and his newfound friends find a strange video game, a perfect replica of the town and its people. Soon Toba is on the run from men in black, with his friends brainwashed by microchips.

Lunar Room #1 - Danny Lore & Giorgia Sposito

Cynthia "Sin" Breaker used to be a lot of things. A werewolf. A mob enforcer for a powerful mage. A name feared on every street of Solar City. But now she's forcibly retired from all those things, trying to get over her past job and past loves. Zac Zero is a mage with their own agenda, and right now, item #1 is to hire some protection. Normally, Sin wouldn't look twice, but Zero may have the key to getting back the most important thing she ever lost: herself.

Lady Mechanika: Monster Of The Ministry Of Hell #1 (of 4) - Joe Benitez & Beth Sotelo

In a Victorian asylum full of grotesque inmates, sadistic guards, and a fanatical doctor, a young lady wakes to find her arms and legs have been replaced with mechanical limbs. But who among this gruesome menagerie is the true monster of the Ministry of Hell? The origins of the notorious adventuress known as Lady Mechanika!

TMNT: Best Of Shredder One-Shot - Misc & James Biggie

The Turtles have met their match in this collection featuring the best stories of Shredder! From the Turtles' Mirage Studios debut to the present day of IDW comics, the leader of the Foot Clan has been a consistent menace to the heroes in a half shell since their inception! Featuring stories from across multiple TMNT publishers, this collection is perfect for any fan of Shredder!

Space Corps #1 (of 3) - Gannon Beck & Bryan Richmond

When an alien species attacks Earth, high schooler Deven Taylor is swept up in the machinery of an intergalactic war and finds himself serving alongside strange recruits from across the galaxy! As the Space Corps' newest enlistee, Deven must come to terms with who he is and the price he's willing to pay for survival.

Tales Of Mother F. Ghost One-Shot - Frank Tieri & Joe Eisma

The Three Little Pigs are gluttonous casino owners. Little Miss Muffet is a hard-nosed cop with arachnophobia. The Three Blind Mice are ocularly impaired assassins. Puss in Boots is a feline-faced scumbag. Welcome to MOTHER F. GOOSE, where your favorite fairy tales are turned into twisted characters right out of a Tarantino movie. Picking up from "LITTLE RED HOOD" (SHOCK) and "ALONG CAME A SPIDER" (AFTERDARK), we will make you a promise: this is the book that will ruin your childhood. Sorry, kids!

Whatcha snagging this week, Fantomites?

#What's Out This Week?#WOTW #Tales Of Mother F. Goose #Space Corps #TMNT Best Of Shredder #Lady Mechanika: Monster Of The Ministry Of Hell #Lunar Room #Buckhead #Buffy The Last Vampire Slayer #Crimson Cage #comic #comics #comic book #comic books

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116t98 · 3 years

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So, Tom Taylor made Dick being a (former) cop canon again. Considering how many parallels/similarities this run has to Chuck Dixon and D*vin Grayson’s respective runs, I have some questions about this particular development:

Does Dick’s stint as a cop mean that Amy Rohrbach is also back in canon? Because she was a good character, and it’s a shame she hasn’t been used since 2006

Was Amy Dick’s partner in this continuity? Or were they not partners at all?

Was Gannon Malloy Dick’s partner?

Does Amy know that Dick is Nightwing*? Did she ever find out to begin with?

Will Amy be reintroduced as the captain of the BPD, or as a detective?

Will Amy be reintroduced at all?

* I only ask this as speculation; I don’t actually think she’d know, since she found out during the time Dick was fighting Blockbuster, and that hasn’t happened yet in this run. But who knows? Maybe she found out in a different way (which contributed to him leaving the force), or maybe she’ll find out if she’s brought back.

#don’t mind me I’m just speculating #I think it’d be cool if Amy came back but I’m not going to get my hopes up #if Tom finds a way to fit her into his narrative I trust that he’ll do it well #(but I don’t think it will happen tbh)#dick grayson #nightwing #amy rohrbach #gannon malloy#dc #mine

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bigskydreaming · 4 years

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Okay, so my hatred for the idea of cop Dick Grayson is well known, but given a recent mini surge of fics with him in this role because of the focus on cops at the moment (not any one in particular, I’ve just noticed over the past couple weeks that I’ve been seeing as much of cop Dick Grayson as I have pretty much over the past couple months before that), I just want to toss a reminder out there for people who really only know of his time as a cop because of fanfics:

1) He was a cop for less than a decade in real time, and hasn’t been one in almost twenty years. Move on.

2) We blame Chuck Dixon for making him a cop due to his right wing biases. The other writer primarily responsible for writing Dick while he was a cop was Devin Grayson. The writer who ALSO made him Romani.

Meaning:

a) Making Dick Grayson a cop was LITERALLY a form of cop propaganda. It was an extremely conservative writer taking a character WHO HE HIMSELF HAD WRITTEN SUFFERING AT THE HANDS OF THE SYSTEM AS A KID - given that Dixon ALSO penned the juvie origin for Dick - and making him grow up to be a cop, basically saying ‘see, if even a kid who suffered because of the system can have the awareness to grow up and see the system isn’t all bad and just needs good people working in it....makes you think, doesn’t it?’

Well, no, Chuck, it mostly makes me think you’re a dumbass who has no idea what he’s talking about and has no business writing a defense of a system you’ve probably never suffered under by using a character who HAS and thus who readers who have also suffered under that system specifically relate to BECAUSE of that, BUT I DIGRESS.

b) The other half of cop Dick Grayson’s tenure was written by the woman who made Dick Grayson Romani, meaning it co-existed with the time Dick was most distinctly and actively written as Romani and invested in his Romani heritage ON THE PAGE.

Translation: COP DICK GRAYSON IS NOT WHITE.

Cop Dick Grayson IS Romani Dick Grayson. Again, standard seemingly necessary disclaimer that you can do literally anything you want in fanfic, but I’m just pointing this out to mention that if you want to write Dick as a cop while white, its not a ton different than just deciding to write Jason becoming a cop because his OWN background and experiences make him think ‘well things might have been better if there were more cops who actually CARED about the people who live in my old neighborhood’ or like, Tim growing up to become a cop because he stans intrusive surveillance.

Cop Dick Grayson is Romani Dick Grayson who is WELL aware of the realities of being a character of color in a white dominated institution that is responsible for the persecution of millions, and here’s something white writers in particular really really REALLY need to keep in mind, because its 110% a core part of where Devin Grayson fucked the hell up:

This is NOT to take anything away from the focus on BLM or police brutality against black people in particular, but IN THE CONTEXT OF FICS ABOUT THESE CHARACTERS, pleeeeeease be mindful of the fact that the Romani people have been heavily persecuted and oppressed by law enforcement across multiple nations for decades and decades as well. They have a HUGELY contentious relationship and history with cops of pretty much all nationalities -

AND IT WAS AN ABSOLUTE FUCKING TRAVESTY THAT DEVIN GRAYSON FAILED TO TAKE THIS INTO ACCOUNT WHILE WRITING A CHARACTER AS BOTH A COP AND ROMANI AT THE SAME TIME.

Making Dick Grayson in specific a cop and writing him as one for almost a decade was a goddamn mess on SO many levels, and ending that for whatever reasons remains one of the best things DC has ever done for the character AND his fans. Now if fandom would only similarly cut him a goddamn break and let it goooooooooooooooo.

I usually focus on why cop Dick Grayson is so gross through a lens of how tone deaf it is given his childhood experiences with the system, because I don’t like stepping outside of my lane whenever possible, and this post is already more out of my lane than I typically care to go. But just because my focus is primarily on situational factors in Dick’s narrative and how they SHOULD affect his narrative choices IMO, that doesn’t mean those are the ONLY factors that make cop Dick Grayson so fucked up - its just those other ones, like his Romani heritage, aren’t really my conversation to have.

They are still very much there regardless.

But make no mistake, by pretty much all canon base material, unless you’re writing a version of Dick who is specifically white and specifically a cop just because you picked his name out of a hat to be the character in that role for the narrative you want to write - and I HMM heavily in your direction if this is anyone’s claim -

Cop Dick Grayson, based on the time when he was ACTUALLY a cop, is by DEFAULT also Romani Dick Grayson. Even if you don’t explicitly name him as Romani in your fic, based on any given reader’s familiarity with the comics in which he was actually a cop, chances are, your reader is just as likely to assume he’s Romani as they are that he’s white, because the two things co-existed in his narrative.

(PS - If you’re also writing Dick’s support system within the cops as being Amy Rohrback and Officer Gannon, Gannon’s an explicitly gay character ALSO created as literal cop propaganda - see gay kids, even gay people can grow up to be cops and its all good, we’re all one people, blue people - well Gannon is FIRMLY in my lane to mention that hey don’t forget about cops’ historic and ongoing persecution of LGBTQ+ people and apathy about coming to their defense, consider maybe not trotting out gay characters as props to prop up police as nice friendlies especially if that’s literally all that gay character exists to be in your fic and has no real narrative or presence beyond ‘gay cop who is nice and charming’ kthxbai).

If you didn’t know this before, that’s fandom’s fuck-up, and now you know.

Which brings me to my final point:

If you are white in particular, PLEASE check yourself before you decide to throw in with police propaganda and contribute by actively writing outside your lane and choosing Romani character Dick Grayson as your mouthpiece of choice to defend police in any narratives you might be inclined to write right now with a ‘more balanced view of the zeitgeist’ or whatever the fuck you want to call it.

Co-opting a character of color to defend an institution whose brutalities against people of color are NOT something you can claim experience with, is like, so many light years from being a good choice you might as well be writing from fucking Naboo.

And once more, with feeling:

DICK GRAYSON HASN’T BEEN A COP IN TWENTY YEARS. IF YOU WANT TO FOCUS ON COMIC BOOK STATUS QUO FROM TWENTY YEARS AGO IN EVERY SINGLE FIC, JUST FYI, JASON IS STILL DEAD, DAMIAN WON’T BE CREATED FOR ANOTHER TEN YEARS, TIM LOVES AND ADORES HIS BIG BROTHER, AND STEPH IS IN AFRICA WHILE PLAYING THE PART OF LIVING DEAD GIRL BUT HEY, YOU DO YOU.

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dzgrizzle · 1 year

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Guy the Cat wants me to take his copy of Endangered Species, the new Caine Riordan sci-fi adventure by Chuck Gannon, to DragonCon to get it signed by the author.

#dragoncon #science fiction #charles gannon #book #cat #cats of tumblr

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badcowboy69 · 4 years

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Boone Voyage

This was a WIP I had in my folders for way, way too long. Back before Travis met Riley, years previous he had a very brief relationship with the NCR First Recon, Craig Boone. This is a discussion Travis is having with his best friend, Arcade Gannon, which took place after his break up with Boone. Story is placed under the Read More thing due to its length. Questions and comments are always welcome. Hope you enjoy it.

@fuzzyelves this was hard to write as I am so used to my stories involving our boys lol I think I did ok with it. ;)

“Did you love him?” Arcade Gannon suddenly blurted to his best friend and co-ruler of New Vegas, Travis Blackfox. He hated to be so blunt, but it was the only way he’d get an answer since Travis was being extremely tight-lipped about his recent break up with NCR sniper, Craig Boone. Arcade was hoping by getting him to discuss the unusual relationship he had with the man it might help Travis to cope with the loss a bit better.

It was only a few days ago when Arcade found Travis staggering drunkenly through the streets of the New Vegas Strip. He never saw his friend in such a state before and quickly gathered him up and led him back home to the Lucky 38. When they got to the Presidential Suite, Arcade noticed that Travis’ long time companion was gone. The suite had an unsettling, empty feeling to it showing Boone’s absence was most certainly not for an outing. The sniper had completely packed up and was out of Travis’ life for reasons unknown. Realizing this, Arcade felt Travis shouldn’t be left alone, especially seeing how drunk he was. Getting Travis settled in bed, Arcade offered to stick around to help the courier sober up and get through the next few days.

Momentarily coming to his senses, and before completely passing out, Travis gratefully thanked Arcade for the help and offered for him to stay in the guest bedroom. After Travis slept for a good amount of hours, Arcade encouraged him to get up and get tidy. He hated to make Travis get moving around so soon during his hangover, but it was necessary. Arcade dealt with situations like this plenty of times, not only in his own life, but with people who staggered into the Fort. Sometimes all it would take for a person to head down the road to recovery was a bath and a good meal. It was a small, but important hurdle for Travis to overcome and Arcade was glad to see the courier oblige to his request. Once Travis was cleaned up and in fresh clothes, Arcade made him something small and light to eat and to both of their delights the food stayed down.

Later that evening, Travis was able to think a little clearer even though his head felt like it was filled with stampeding brahmin. Arcade didn’t push matters with him and instead let Travis decide the pace he wanted to go. Eventually, Travis managed to briefly discuss what happened with Boone, but didn’t get into many details. Basically, he told Arcade that after the Hoover Dam ordeal, Boone became distant. Travis assumed that being involved with battles again might have temporarily pushed the sniper back into his stoic and quiet self. He remained hopeful that things would revert back to how they were before the battle, but that was not to be the case. A few tense weeks later, Boone dropped his own bomb by stating he was rejoining the NCR and would be leaving.

While Travis continued his tale, the blonde man could see the hurt in Travis’ expression, but his voice portrayed a different story. Travis was angry, but quite possibly a little relieved this had all happened. In the past when Arcade would ask Travis how things were going on the romance front, the courier would always snort, laugh and say “what romance?” Arcade knew it was Travis’ attempt at a joke, but each and every time it was said he could see the flicker of a mood change on his friend’s face. He couldn’t quite place it, but it still boiled down to Travis seeming as if he was regretting the entire relationship.

After a good night’s sleep and a hearty breakfast, Travis abruptly announced he wanted to tackle the huge task of cleaning up the disaster that became his workroom the day Boone left. Arcade was unsure what exactly Travis meant by “disaster” and figured it was only a gross exaggeration. When it came to his workroom, Travis was very neat and meticulous. However, when Travis opened the door to the suite, the doctor was mortified seeing the room truly was a disaster as previously stated. It was evident the break up really hit the courier harder than he was letting on.

Frowning deeply, Arcade walked carefully through the wreckage of tools, supplies, and twisted metal and eventually wound up next to a destroyed motorcycle. He shook his head in disbelief and felt his heart sink as he knew that motorcycle was Travis’ passion. Almost every time they talked, Travis excitedly told him about his progress and his hopes to go to the coast to see the ocean. Staring down at the bike, Arcade felt it looked repairable, but maybe not. He was a doctor after all, not a mechanic.

During the next few hours, the two men righted shelves, swept up broken glass, and did their best to put things back in their places. Around dinner time they stopped and Travis was pleased with the progress in his workshop. After they had a filling meal, Travis invited Arcade up to the cocktail lounge for a few drinks and to simply relax. Not surprisingly, Travis downed one beer after another. Even though he disapproved of those actions, Arcade said nothing, at least not yet, knowing Travis had to get through the breakup in his own way.

However, being a doctor as well as Travis’ best friend, Arcade couldn’t help but to ask a few questions. He hoped he could entice Travis to discuss the relationship with the stoic NCR sniper. Arcade knew for some people, talking things out could bring a situation into a different perspective or simply getting them out in the open could help bring on healing all the faster.

“Did you love him?”

The question hung heavily in the air and Travis stared in disbelief at Arcade before grimacing and wrinkling up his nose. “What the hell?” he snorted, taking a deep drink out of his beer bottle not taking his eyes off of the blonde doctor. “Hell kinda question that supposed to be?”

“An in depth one perhaps. Take your time and think about it. I know you are probably on your way to being drunk, but at least the answer will be honest.”

Travis glared at him. “Ain’t drunk. Fuck you.”

Arching an eyebrow in mild amusement, Arcade chuckled then took a sip of his wine. “That’s a great offer, it truly is, but seeing your present state I’m going to have to decline.”

Travis continued to glare at him, his crystal blue eyes practically boring a hole into the doctor’s head. However, it wasn’t long until a slight smile cracked his stoic expression. “Well...I seriously doubt you can stay in the saddle longer than eight seconds anyways,” he quipped while finishing off the beer in his bottle.

“Eight seconds? Really, is that limit to your libido? Maybe that’s why Boone left,” Arcade replied dryly then quickly ducked as Travis chucked a decorative throw pillow at him. Picking it up and tossing it back, Arcade laughed seeing that Travis was attempting some humor in the unhappy situation.

Catching the pillow and setting it on his lap, Travis sighed and a somber expression slowly appeared on his face. A million thoughts began zooming through his head about the past few months with Boone that led up to this point. “To answer your question...no...reckon I can't say it was love in the husband kinda way. I loved him like a best friend, someone I thought I could trust and who would always have my back. Instead, he betrayed me by leaving.”

“He was not allowed to leave?” Arcade baited, hoping to goad Travis to getting his true feelings out.

“Shit...he could do what the hell he wanted! I never stopped him, but…” he drifted off and stared at the floor for a moment. “It’s....it woulda been nice if he discussed this with me first. I was blindsided by it all. Woulda thought we were close enough that he could tell me anything. I mean, ain’t that what friends do is discuss things, especially if there’s a change in plans and stuff?”

“Travis, were you really blindsided or were there signs leading up to this that you might have not even paid attention to? Boone didn’t exactly seem the type to pour out his heart, but rather relied on the more subtle, or even obvious, of hints without saying things directly.”

Travis snorted with a hard glare and opened his mouth to interject, but the blonde doctor raised his hand to halt the reply. “Think about it for a moment, Travis. You crossed paths with a lonely, bitter, ‘waiting for death’ man. You helped him locate the person who sold his wife and unborn child into the Legion. You took him tramping across the desert while mowing down any Legion you crossed paths with. You became great allies with the NCR. The two of you single handedly destroyed the Legion camp at Fortification Hill and killed Caesar in its wake. You helped him face his ghosts at Bitter Springs. You both helped save President Kimball from assassination. Then when the big Battle for Hoover Dam came up, you sent your robots and allies out to help the NCR beat back the Legion and into victory. Granted, you took the dam for yourself and House and punted the NCR out, but he still helped you anyway because battles are what he loves to do. Travis, you gave that man all the thrills and excitement only a person with being a soldier in their blood could ever dream of. A man like that can’t be domesticated. A man like that needs to be out in the world. Alone. Fighting the good fight.” Arcade paused to take a sip of his wine and relaxed against the couch. “The two of you jogged around the Mojave doing things that made him feel powerful and important again. And dare I say probably even made him feel loved again. I’m sure many signs were present...restlessness, being anxious to get back on the field, always fiddling with his rifle, maybe always talking about or boasting about the NCR. Think hard, Travis.”

Shifting his gaze to the floor, Travis felt his cheeks redden with embarrassed realization. Everything Arcade mentioned was true and correct about Boone. It should have been so obvious, but Travis was unfortunately oblivious to such things. Having lost an abundance of memories as a result of being shot in the head, he no doubt became clingy, and almost needy, to the one person he spent the vast majority of his time with.

Months back when Travis first met Boone in the town of Novac, he wanted nothing to do with the sniper. Travis was too busy with his own mission and didn’t have the time or desire to mingle or make friends with everyone he came across. However, learning that Boone had no real friends and after hearing the painful story about Boone’s wife, Travis felt some kind of bond. They were both alone in the world and both had missions to fulfill. Eventually they began to travel the Mojave together and the more time they spent side by side, the more Travis developed a slight crush on the sniper. Travis knew he flirted way too much, sometimes almost shamelessly, and no doubt that helped goad Boone into some unexpected and possibly suppressed feelings.

“Take your time,” Arcade gently interrupted seeing Travis was deep in thought. “It’s apparent by you searching for signs means they were there, but overlooked. Had they not existed, you would have retorted and defended not only Boone, but your dignity as well.”

Travis grunted and shifted his position on the couch while casually crossing his long legs. “Well,” he drawled, giving a dismissive wave of his hand. “You do make good points. A’yup...Reckon Boone was doing all those things as time went on...more so closer to the battle. Didn’t think much of it really.” He shrugged and took another sip of his beer, emptying the brown bottle then began to flick his fingers against the glass as his mind shifted to other thoughts.

Adjusting his glasses, Arcade waited patiently for his frustrated friend to continue talking. Although the venting was minute, Arcade knew there was not doubt plenty built up in Travis wanting to come out. He saw it in a glance or heard it in a pitch change in Travis’ voice. As badly as he wanted to goad or provoke him, Arcade knew the best thing was to let Travis continue at his own pace since it was obvious he wanted to get things out in the open.

Travis felt the doctor’s piercing green eyes on him and he squirmed all the more, suddenly feeling insecure and lost. There were so many issues and things he could bring up, but he honestly had no idea where to start and wished Arcade would ask him a question or two as a guide. Travis waited a few long moments before realizing Arcade was giving him the opportunity to bring something up on his own. “Called me kid a lot,” he blurted.

Arcade blinked at the bit of randomness, but continued forward instead of shooting it down. “Kid? He actually called you that? He was what, two years older than you? Sort of demeaning don’t you think? Now if I were to call you that, or even Raul, that’s a different story,” he tut-tutted while scratching the side of his nose. “Is that all that bothered you about him? Out of everything these last few months being called ‘kid’ is your only qualm?”

“No,” Travis responded flatly. “He was...he just was a bit forceful and unappreciative at times. I mean…” he drifted off while suddenly regretting he even admitted that. Travis anxiously ran his fingers through his black hair and began to feel the urge to drink something a lot stronger than the beer he’s been downing.

Arcade immediately corrected his posture and sat up straight, his attention focused on what Travis had declared “Forceful? Forceful in what way?” he asked carefully, almost afraid of the answer. Although he didn’t know Boone as well as Travis, he didn’t want to jump to wrong conclusions. Still, the doctor felt a knot of dread tie in his stomach over what possible horrible tale Travis was about to admit to. A lanky mailman was certainly no match against a built, hardened soldier.

Travis shrank down against the chair and began to rub the back of his neck while his slightly intoxicated brain tried to figure out the correct words to explain things. When he looked up he noticed the concerned look on Arcade’s face. “Don’t worry...he wasn’t forceful in the ways of violence or anything. He never raised a hand to me...never even yelled. Well, he did sometimes, but it wasn’t out of the ordinary. Hell, I yelled too, but in all the times we squawked at each other it weren’t outta the ordinary. I mean, everybody shouts at some time or another. Don’t they? Naw, the only time he ever really like yelled was mostly during the time he admitted he was gonna leave. Just...at times he could be...forceful…” Travis drifted off, still yearning for another drink in his hand.

Arcade was patient, but he now had concerns over what his friend might have endured both mentally and physically at the hands of the NCR sniper. Being a doctor, he’s dealt with soldiers plenty of times for various reasons and he knew how emotionless, loud and brash they could be. With Travis’ playful nature and good heart it wouldn’t be any wonder where someone like him could be easily manipulated or taken advantage of. The more Travis hesitated now, the deeper Arcade’s worries grew. Boone wasn’t some scrawny, washed up soldier either. Being absent from the front line or on duty, the man still maintained a chiseled body. Hearing Travis mention the word forceful, Arcade was unsure if he should take it for face value, or as an exaggeration as Travis was known to do occasionally. Either way he felt concerned, but also didn’t want to bring too much attention to it and cause Travis to balk on the matter. “Take your time,” he gently assured. “There’s no pressure or time table here.”

“He made me feel...good...not so lonely I reckon,” the courier said instead, shifting from the original topic. “He was always there for me, always had my back. I knew I could count on him...hell, he saved my ass plenty of times too. I reckon I started to like and appreciate that and it’s probably what got me kinda smitten with him after a while.”

“More like a hero crush by the sounds of it,” Arcade responded matter-of-factly.

Travis shrugged and began toying with his empty beer bottle. “Yeah...I-I had hopes we’d move out of New Vegas one day. Lots of land available out in the Mojave and I figured it’d be kinda nice to move out there and get a ranch raising brahmin or big horners.”

“He wasn’t fond of that idea?”

“Not really now that I think about it,” Travis grunted as he stood and shuffled to the fridge for another beer. “He always had a goofy look on his face when I’d mention it. Almost like the kinda look you see a parent give a kid when that kid wants something outta their reach. That look like ‘anything you want, sweetie’ when deep down they knew they’d never abide by it. Dunno what it’s called, but yeah, that was what he’d do. Ain’t never recognized it for what it was ‘til now.”

“He probably hoped your dreams and whims were simply that and wouldn’t come to fruition.” He chuckled seeing Travis’ head tilt slightly at the mention of a new word. “It means where an idea becomes real. I’m willing to bet he only humored you in a few things to keep you pacified or even distracted while he had his own plans. I noticed there were two motorcycles in your work room the other day when we were cleaning up. Was that another of your plans with him that got stymied? You wanted him to accompany you to the coast?”

Anger flashed in Travis’ crystal blue eyes and he felt a heaviness on his chest brought on by the mention of the motorcycles. “A’yup,” he growled before guzzling down his beer. “Had the extra bike in my shop to use for parts, but got the notion to fix it instead so Craig could have one as well. Thought it’d be nice for us to travel to the Big Waters together...go there after the battle was over and shit settled down around here. Thought it’d be nice to share some time together on a beach watching the sunset like they do in those romance holotapes and junk. He didn’t seem too interested ‘til I mentioned we’d be in New California. Reckon all he was caring about going that way for was ‘cause we’d be deep in NCR territory.” He snorted and emptied the bottle then wiped his mouth against his sleeve. “Other than that, he really took no interest in the bikes or the trip. Shoulda took that as a sign. A great, big, flaming red flag!”

“You were hoping for a romantic getaway with an emotionless sniper?” Arcade asked with a half-chuckle earning a sharp glare from Travis. “I’m sorry, Travis, I don’t mean to laugh, but I can’t exactly picture the two of you holding hands and skipping along the sand stopping to look for shells.”

“Neither can I,” Travis muttered and felt his blood begin to boil over his blind infatuation of the sniper. “How could I have been so stupid?” he exclaimed, giving the armrest of the couch a hard slap. “The more I look back on things, the more I realize stuff was staring me right in the face! The entire relationship was nothing more than a good friend or trusted companion kinda thing. It was my fault things got physical...my fault for seducing him. What the fuck was even wrong with me? Ugh!” He again slapped the couch before quickly getting to his feet. The rage he felt back when he tore up his workroom seemed to be wanting to make itself known again. This time he was all wiser and didn’t want what happened then to happen now. Turning towards the couch, he instead proceeded to punch a throw pillow a few times in hopes to calm himself.

Arcade watched him carefully and knew that there was still more to all of this than Travis was letting on. “Is there something else that is bothering you? I mean, I wouldn’t think you tearing up your passion of building a working motorcycle and destroying your entire workroom would only be over Boone leaving or your temptations. What aren’t you telling me or even admitting to yourself for that matter?”

Seeing the genuine concern and fear in Arcade’s eyes, Travis suddenly felt drained and he dropped heavily on the sofa while covering his face in his hands. Taking a deep, calming breath and slowly exhaling, Travis replied, “Just felt jilted and stupid combined. I knew he wasn’t the kinda fella that’d catch my fancy, but yet I flirted lots. In our travels I spotted plenty of guys I wouldn’t have minded to get to know, but for some reason I was bent on accomplishing something with Craig. The night...the night he kissed me...well...I thought that was the best thing in the world. I succeeded in what I set out to do, but wasn’t fully sure on what to make of it. Was hoping now that the ice was broke with us, things would change and he’d loosen up some and have fun, but we were getting closer and closer to the Hoover Dam bullshit. He seemed to get anxious over it all...kinda nervous and it was making me the same as a result. I only wanted to show him a good time and how to live life and to find the joy in simple things again. Hoped to give him a reason to fight hard and to live. So...I took him out for a nice dinner day one night at the Tops and…” Travis trailed off.

Arcade waited for Travis to continue, but as the minutes ticked by he felt something was wrong. Seeing Travis was still hesitating to continue, Arcade cautiously asked, “Did he not enjoy the date that evening? I’m sure the Tops might not be exactly up to his tastes, but I would think an outing out with someone I was close to wouldn’t matter where we went. As long as we’re together nothing else would matter.”

Travis looked up at him and held his gaze for long moments before dropping his chin to his chest and sighing heavily. “Wasn’t that. We drank that night...bit too much probably. I flirted too much that night to boot. And...well…things went a bit too far when we left the casino.” He paused for a moment and ran his hand through his already mussed up black hair while directing his gaze to the floor. Travis wasn’t normally one to spill details of his private life, but tonight things felt different. He felt like he somehow needed to get some issues off his chest and out into the open. “Don’t even know why I did what I did...reckon I drank too much, reckon I flirted too much...was my fault it went as far as it did. I prob’ly confused him...gave him feelings he wasn’t keen on having or something.”

Dread began to creep into Arcade’s thoughts and he wondered if this was where the “forceful” remarks Travis made came from. He only hoped this tale wasn’t going to end up being one of rape or other abuse because he wasn’t even sure how he would react. He did know that if anything horrible happened to Travis as a result of that emotionless dolt, he would not hesitate to let loose his plasma rifle on the sniper. Arcade cleared his throat then took a sip of his wine. “Whatever happened, Travis, know it wasn’t your fault. You aren’t accountable for anyone’s actions.” “Bullshit!” Travis grunted, jerking his head up to glare at his friend. “Sure, folks are responsible for how they behave, but you push a man so far, entice ‘em, seduce ‘em...something’s gonna give eventually...good or bad.” He paused to scratch the side of his nose then smooth over the black hairs of his goatee. “Reckon you can figure out what happened after we got home that night.”

Still not wanting to jump to conclusions, Arcade took a small sip of his wine and gave a casual shrug. “You threw up and passed out from the copious amount of drinking you did?”

Travis smirked. “I wasn’t that drunk. Hell, I wish that’s what happened!” Standing abruptly, Travis made a few random motions with his hand before turning on his heel and stomping to the fridge to get another beer. Twisting the cap off it, he guzzled nearly half of the amber liquid before heading back to the couch and dropping heavily on it. “Ain’t gonna get into details, but let’s just say I ain’t no longer pure thanks to my stupidity.”

Arcade quirked a brow, his wine glass hovering near his lips. “You mean to tell me that Mr. First Recon was your first?” Seeing Travis give a half-nod, Arcade felt his heart sink. He knew how much a romantic Travis is and always assumed he at least had some sort of passionate relationship in his past. Grimacing at the very thought, Arcade took a swallow of his wine and set the glass down on the coffee table. “The entire situation with that man is bad enough, but for him to be your first is just…” He trailed off seeing Travis flinch and bury his face in his hands. Sighing, Arcade tried to think of something that wasn’t so scathing, but it proved to be a difficult task. Fortunately for him he didn’t have much time to dwell on it as Travis began to talk again.

“I don’t know why I thought things were so amazing and why I kept pushing or hoping. Come the next morning I felt horrible. Don’t know what I was expecting it to be like...but it certainly wasn’t pleasurable. I wasn’t happy at all about it and was more embarrassed and ashamed than anything. Didn’t talk much that day either. It was really awkward. We didn’t discuss it and no more came of it. Well, not for a while anyways. I stopped with the flirting, but there was still some kind of desire there for me. Figured that the first time was just drunken stupidity, but when it happened again…”

“Something tells me you regret the entire thing.” Travis stared at the floor, avoiding Arcade’s gaze. At length he nodded while crossing his arms in front of his chest. “A’yup. I mean, I always hoped it’d get better and that it was my inexperience that made it what it was. It didn’t happen much at all which I reckon is a good thing. It always felt more like a convenience thing, always felt forced.” Hearing a soft noise from Arcade made Travis look up and wave it off. “Not like that, weren’t ever against my will, but it wasn’t anything I liked. It was more like what I could do for him instead of what he could do for me or even a together thing. Does that make sense? I thought...I thought that intimacy was a thing shared together, not a one way street.”

Arcade sighed and adjusted his glasses. “Well, under normal circumstances it is. I know this all isn’t easy for you to discuss or admit so you don’t have to go on if you don’t want to. I think I’m pretty sure what you’re trying to get at. From what it all sounds like, you had hero worship feelings for him and a serious crush. You enjoyed flirting with him because you knew it made him feel good and it boosted your confidence as well. You thought you knew what you wanted, but when you got it, you realized it wasn’t exactly what you expected. You probably hoped it would either dissolve or flourish and you grasped at any chance of the latter that was offered to you. Even when signs were there he wasn’t interested in expanding on the future or your needs, you still had hope.” Arcade paused to take a sip of his wine before standing and taking a seat at Travis’ side. Giving his glum looking friend’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, the doctor continued. “None of this is your fault and really isn’t anything to dwell on or beat yourself up over. It happened. What’s done is done and hopefully you came out of this all the more wiser.”

“Shit, you got that right! No more relationships or flings for me ever! This betrayal and shit only shows I’m better off alone. People are fucking idjits and I’d rather not bother,” Travis ended with a huff, downed the rest of his beer then slung the empty bottle to the other side of the room. Fortune was on his side as the bottle did not break and instead clattered loudly across the tiled floor.

“Travis, don’t let one asshole determine the rest of your life. You’re young and I know you aren’t one to give up on romance that easily. You have that desire to be with someone and care for them and in turn be cared for. You wouldn’t have built two motorcycles if you wanted to go on adventures alone. You wouldn’t have hopes to operate a ranch with someone if you wanted to be alone. Give it time. There’s no rush in things, but don’t abandon your hopes and desires because of Boone. But I will say this, do yourself a huge favor and don’t chase after those stone-cold NCR fellas anymore. You don’t need brawn in your life. You need someone with brains.”

“Oh, you mean a nerd like you? Ow!” Travis chuckled as his friend playfully punched him in the shoulder.

“No. Most certainly not like me. You need to find someone who can enjoy and appreciate the simple things of life and actually enjoy life. Like I said, there is no time table for something like this and no rush. Get over the loss you’re suffering now and find yourself first. You’ve been through some crazy shit since October when you woke up in Doc Mitchell’s place in Goodsprings. You’re basically only back in this world a few months and really never got the chance to discover who you were and even are. If you want my expert opinion, rebuild the relationship with yourself first. Find out who Travis Blackfox is. Fix that motorcycle and take a trip. Do something. Anything! But, find your path first and maybe after a while when you’re ready, pursue finding that special someone if that’s something you still yearn for.”

Travis bit his lower lip and directed his gaze back to the floor in thought. He realized everything that Arcade had said to him tonight was true. He hated to admit to any of it, of course, but deep down he knew that his infatuation with Boone was simply that. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. Thanks for helping me realize and understand a few things. It feels good to have got all of that out in the open. Everything what you said helped as well.”

“Sometimes all it takes is another person’s input or perspective to get proper focus placed on the topic. You’re a good guy, Travis. You deserve to be with someone that respects you and wants to share things with you. Just promise me one thing when seeking out a potential mate.” Arching an eyebrow, Travis turned to face the doctor. “Besides not being NCR?”

“That’s the main thing, yes, but please, make sure your next beau will have hair! Something nice and normal...full and luxurious. Maybe even long. Honestly, that shaved style Boone had reminded me of the rear end of a Deathclaw.”

Travis gave a mock gasp and began to snicker over Arcade’s description. “Aw hell, you’re awfully hair-larious. I hate to cut you short, but I moustache you a question. Do you really think I should get tangled up with someone again anyways?”

Arcade rolled his eyes and groaned. He knew Travis’ love for puns and by him rattling off hair related ones shows he was well on his way of getting over the break up. “When you’re ready is all I’m going to insist. Don’t trim corners or snip off time you need for recovery. Don’t shave off those precious moments you need for yourself first. And promise me, if Boone ever returns, you won’t take him back.”

Travis was impressed hearing Arcade attempting to toss in his own bit of puns and he smirked. “Ain’t no worry about that. He comes back ‘round there’ll be hell toupee. That shitfuck can curl up and dye for all I care.”

The doctor sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose to stop him from laughing. “Well, that all sounds good to me and you have my approval. Now, can we please stop with the puns? I’m getting a headache over it.”

“Fine with me. I’ll get us more drinks, but we gotta save some for tomorrow.” As Travis stood he noticed the confused look Arcade was giving him over his remark. “You know...hair of the dog?”

“Ugh! Cut it out, Travis!”

Fin~

#travis blackfox #arcade gannon #fallout new vegas #my oc #fallout oc #writings

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