selfmedicatingmayor:

the-perfect-scientist :

“Well, the one I saw, I remember that it had really weird, um… ‘like’ descriptions,” Carlos said. “What are those called? Um, um, um…” He snapped his fingers, trying to think. “Not a metaphor, but… I remember one of the sentences said something like ‘the skin of her breasts were soft and silky like a purse’ and ‘his hands gripped her with the strength of a farmer milking a cow’s udders’. Just, in my opinion… very poor descriptions. I’ve never seen a silky purse.”

“Heh, well shit, that’s just….. bad.” He laughed, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of that description. “I can’t say any’a the shit I’ve read was anythin’ like that, it was pretty damn decent, actually. Maybe I’ll let ya borrow it sometime so you can see what erotica is really supposed to be like.”

Carlos chuckled, keeping his eyes on his project. “I dunno
if I’d take you up on that,” he said. “Just… I dunno. Maybe later. I’m really
not too curious about it.” Except he kinda was, but he wasn’t going to admit
that to another person. Nor did he really wanna be caught, dead or alive, with
Mayor Hancock’s erotica in his possession. That’d… that’d just be embarrassing.

Suddenly though, something came to him. “A simile! That’s what it is! When
comparing something with something like it in writing, it’s called a simile!
Damn, I feel dumb not remembering that; I apologize.”

selfmedicatingmayor:

the-perfect-scientist :

Carlos hummed. He then grinned. “What, you don’t want people stealing your erotic literature?” he asked. Then he laughed. “I’m kidding – I’m absolutely kidding,” he said quickly.

“Somethin’ like that, yeah.” He snorted, a grin spreading across his face. “Actually, that might just be one’a the things I wouldn’t mind sharin’. I like spreading the love, so to speak.”

“I’m pretty sure erotica isn’t written with ‘love’ in mind,” Carlos told him with an amused smile. “‘Lust’ and ‘fun’, more like it, huh?” He removed another part from the terminal – the hard drive. He was extra careful setting it down out of the way so it wouldn’t accidentally get nudged or hit.

selfmedicatingmayor:

the-perfect-scientist :

Carlos looked at him, a little confused why Hancock would be
about how Carlos felt.

Because he’s a nice
guy, Carlos thought to himself. Nice
people do exist out here, no matter how rough it gets. It was nice to know
that, he supposed. And it was nice that his mental well-being wasn’t only his
own concern.

He smiled at the ghoul, grateful. “Thanks a lot, Mayor,” he
said. “I really do appreciate you saying that. And really… I’m happy that you
did come up with something for me to do for you.”

“You can just call me Hancock, really, I prefer it.” He smiled, patting him on the shoulder lightly before sitting back again to watch Carlos work. “I’m glad I did too, I’ve been meaning to get some shit done around here for a while, but there are only a handful of people around the Commonwealth I know who are capable of workin’ on terminals and stuff I most are either too busy or untrustworthy, heh.”

Carlos hummed. He then grinned. “What, you don’t want people stealing your erotic literature?” he asked. Then he laughed. “I’m kidding – I’m absolutely kidding,” he said quickly.

selfmedicatingmayor:

the-perfect-scientist :

“Oh, I know,” Carlos said. “I know, you don’t do that to
people. And yeah, I… I certainly know how they would feel.” At the end of the
day, Carlos supposed he was just glad that there was something he could do for
Hancock and he didn’t have to feel guilty for accepting the guy’s help. Too
much. He still couldn’t believe it had taken him so long to figure out how he
could actually give back to Hancock.

“Hey…..” He started, reaching out to place a hand on Carlos’ shoulder, a soft smile on his face. “You know you don’t have to feel that way, right? I’m happy to have you around, no matter what you’re doin’ and there’s no shame in needing a little help, this world is fuckin’ cruel as hell and we’re all better off if we work together to survive. Even I couldn’t have made it this far on my own, I’d be dead a hundred times over if it weren’t for the people around me, ya feel me?”

Carlos looked at him, a little confused why Hancock would be
about how Carlos felt.

Because he’s a nice
guy, Carlos thought to himself. Nice
people do exist out here, no matter how rough it gets. It was nice to know
that, he supposed. And it was nice that his mental well-being wasn’t only his
own concern.

He smiled at the ghoul, grateful. “Thanks a lot, Mayor,” he
said. “I really do appreciate you saying that. And really… I’m happy that you
did come up with something for me to do for you.”

selfmedicatingmayor:

the-perfect-scientist :

Carlos paused for a second, a little startled. “Uh… you didn’t put dust in your terminal on purpose so I could fix it for you, did you?” he asked, putting on a teasing smirk as he glanced at Hancock.

He was making a joke, but at the same time a really small part of him wondered if that’s why it took Hancock so long to get someone to look at the thing – because nobody with experience with terminals were in the ‘leeching’ part of the relationship. Not until Carlos showed up, that was.

“Heh, of course not.” He snorted, giving a little roll of his eyes. It hadn’t been his intention to make the other think he considered him a leech, in fact, there were very few people in town the ghoul did see that way, but he could tell by the sound of Carlos’ voice he’d said something that didn’t sit right with the other man. “Hey, y’know I ain’t callin’ folks leeches, right? I couldn’t give a shit if anyone I support actually worked, I just know a lotta folks ain’t happy if they don’t have somethin’ to do or don’t feel like they’re contributing, that’s all I meant.”

“Oh, I know,” Carlos said. “I know, you don’t do that to
people. And yeah, I… I certainly know how they would feel.” At the end of the
day, Carlos supposed he was just glad that there was something he could do for
Hancock and he didn’t have to feel guilty for accepting the guy’s help. Too
much. He still couldn’t believe it had taken him so long to figure out how he
could actually give back to Hancock.

selfmedicatingmayor:

the-perfect-scientist :

“Wow,” Carlos said, actually kind of impressed. “I… forgive me, but I didn’t… think people could actually have such thing as a ‘good income’ out here. I’m sorry – it’s most likely my vault mentality still sticking, I just… I got the impression a lot of people had to struggle first before… doing any kind of settling down out here.” Maybe that was a sign that the wasteland was on the mend, as far as society went. Though… could it really be considered ‘on the mend’ when most of the people who experienced the downfall were dead now?

“It’s all relative.” He shrugged, as if that were any kind of real explanation. “Diamond City has been around a long time, folks there are about as comfortable as you can be out here and a ‘good income’ really just means they don’t have to be runnin’ out into the wasteland every day scroungin’ for whatever caps or scraps they can find. Mostly people there just sell shit and then pay scavvers to bring them more shit to sell so they don’t gotta risk themselves. Of course, I s’pose I probably fit into that category too now. Got so much here, I don’t know what to do with it, been makin’ shit up for folks who wanna work just to give ‘em somethin’ to do for caps so they don’t feel like they’re just leeching off’a me all the time.”

Carlos paused for a second, a little startled. “Uh… you didn’t put dust in your terminal on purpose so I could fix it for you, did you?” he asked, putting on a teasing smirk as he glanced at Hancock.

He was making a joke, but at the same time a really small part of him wondered if that’s why it took Hancock so long to get someone to look at the thing – because nobody with experience with terminals were in the ‘leeching’ part of the relationship. Not until Carlos showed up, that was.

selfmedicatingmayor:

the-perfect-scientist :

“It can be bad,” Carlos said. “But it depends on the place it’s kept in, I guess. If there isn’t a lot of ventilation, then there’s less chance of weathering and less chance for things to dehydrate. That phone I tore apart had some great wires where the rubber hadn’t cracked or become brittle, which was a great find.” He glanced at Hancock. “Were your folks well off? I think it would cost quite a bit of caps…”

“Huh, never knew that, but I guess it makes sense.” He shrugged. “As far as wastelanders go, we were pretty comfortable, didn’t live in the upper stands, but that’s more ‘cause there was more room to build down on the field, we had all the caps we needed when we needed ‘em, weren’t struggling or anything. I mean, shit, livin’ in Diamond City ain’t exactly cheap anyway, y’know? Gotta have a pretty good income in order to afford to stay there.”

“Wow,” Carlos said, actually kind of impressed. “I… forgive me, but I didn’t… think people could actually have such thing as a ‘good income’ out here. I’m sorry – it’s most likely my vault mentality still sticking, I just… I got the impression a lot of people had to struggle first before… doing any kind of settling down out here.” Maybe that was a sign that the wasteland was on the mend, as far as society went. Though… could it really be considered ‘on the mend’ when most of the people who experienced the downfall were dead now?

selfmedicatingmayor:

the-perfect-scientist:

Carlos hummed as he nibbled on a noodle, trying not to make the gross noises he usually did while Hancock explained something so personal. He understood he supposed… he hadn’t bothered with his own birthday since… he was alone. Well, not alone, alone – not anymore – but the only other people who knew about it were safely tucked away in a vault never for him to see again. But still…

“Would you… mind too terribly if I were to get you something?” he asked softly. “Nothing big or extensively-planned, just… I dunno… a box of Snack Cakes and a ‘Happy Birthday’ kiss or something?” He tried to make the idea seem light, but he really did want to know what Hancock would feel about it.

“I uh…..” He paused, chewing on his lip as he considered that. One of the reasons he’d stopped acknowledging the day was because his parents had been killed not long after, it only served as a reminder of what he’d lost these days.

“I guess that’d be alright, as long as it’s not a whole….. thing, maybe. I dunno, we could try it anyway, if ya want.”

Carlos nodded, setting down his chopsticks again. “Sure. Absolutely, Hancock,” he said. He turned to lean in and press a gentle kiss to Hancock’s cheek.  “You’ll… let me know if it gets to be too much… right?” He didn’t even know when the guy’s birthday was yet, but he wanted to be absolutely sure he was getting a green light to do something small. Very small.

selfmedicatingmayor:

the-perfect-scientist :

Carlos shrugged slightly. “Maybe,” he said, though his tone suggested he didn’t think he would.

He continued to take apart the machine, putting aside parts that were usable to be cleaned and tossing broken parts into the far corner. “I’m surprised at how many of these parts survived,” he admitted. “The machine probably hadn’t been used for 200 years before we found it.”

A small frown tugged at the ghoul’s lips at Carlos’ response, but he didn’t bother trying to argue with him, simply going quiet until the other spoke up again. “Is it bad for shit to just sit unused for a long time? I don’t really know anythin’ about technology, only thing I ever really had before I took over here was a radio and anytime one died, my folks would just fork out the caps for a new one–– not that anything’s really new around here.”

“It can be bad,” Carlos said. “But it depends on the place it’s kept in, I guess. If there isn’t a lot of ventilation, then there’s less chance of weathering and less chance for things to dehydrate. That phone I tore apart had some great wires where the rubber hadn’t cracked or become brittle, which was a great find.” He glanced at Hancock. “Were your folks well off? I think it would cost quite a bit of caps…”