The interjection earns Arcade a mildly withering look, but the courier’s patience rises with a second wind, the score to his brow subsiding into forbearance. He supposes he can understand his companion’s curiosity, should be grateful perhaps that Arcade expresses interest even if it does come across prying, suspicious, that tendency to jump the gun not half as entertaining as it is worrisome.

     But traveling with someone largely unimpressed by his short-term goals appeals to him less than any bromidic personality. Arcade is far from exemplifying the latter option, harboring a depth the courier is lucky to catch in glimpses, spending inordinate amounts of time trying to decipher what he can out of what may be nothing but here-nor-there remarks.

     Yet that the Follower cares enough about anything to be sufficiently disappointed or ( in this case ) intrusive is what sets him apart from the rest of the wastes, and the courier tries not to read into matters further than that less he twist them illegible. They’re a team, moreorless, and the courier supposes there’s a degree of trust inherent to the dynamic, recent as it is. For someone willingly hoofing it across the Mojave with him without so much as the promise of monetary compensation, it makes sense Arcade might push for clarification where obscure answers are concerned; he deserves that, at least. 

     ( If that be the case, however, then is it much to ask for a bit of faith he’ll deliver on his end of the bargain? )

     The courier thinks himself in circles in the short time between their dialogue, nearly forgets Arcade’s posed further inquiry on the subject until he hears Latin and the conversation has progressed to another possible itinerary. He blinks and kneads the side of his neck with the rough heel of his palm in private embarrassment, preparing himself mentally for a brief round of catch up courtesy of the singularity pull of his own speculations.

     ❝Sorry,❞ he murmurs, reintroducing himself to the prior topic, eyes hard on the outlying road. ❝it’s an eyebot, like in the Ralphie posters.❞ The comparison could be superfluous, considering Arcade’s the one prompting for a type, undoubtedly possessing more expertise in the field than the courier even has concept of. Vegas being a fine menagerie of curios and oddities, who knows all that the Followers here have studied and to what extent. He chews the inside of his cheek. ❝Knew they were House’s design but I guess I didn’t expect to see any out here.❞ 

     A beat, and he takes to watching Arcade out of the corner of his eye, the distance filtering into the other’s voice seemingly out of place in a conversation more mundane than anything else. Figures there’s a chance the doctor didn’t rest as well as he let on.

     ❝You study robotics in addition to medicine?❞ An innocent question — well-founded, at least, given the matters at hand. He tries guilelessly for light-heartedness. And dead languages.

If anything Arcade wasn’t in the least bit intimidated by the courier’s withering look that he was tossed in initial response towards his own particular choice in question. A blond brow merely raised slightly as he stared down the other man - willing to give ground, yes, but not by far. Not yet. This… companionship was too new, too tentative, and while both men were still so damn vastly different they needed to be able to work with one another’s individual… quirks, for the better or the worse of it all.

The courier’s tendency towards silence, thoughtful or otherwise, wasn’t entirely anything too unusual - it wasn’t as if he was the first quiet man that the Follower had the opportunity of knowing and it wasn’t as if the blond man was incapable of filling that silence with chatter both practical and useless. Of course he wouldn’t argue if there’d been even just a little more input from the other man - it was a nice thought to actually remember there was another person at the other end of his talking, not that metaphorical wall.

Did Arcade trust him? Not yet.
Not yet.

But the construct of trust was a matter that only time needed. Despite his willingness to travel with the man, to see what his goals ultimately were for the state of the Mojave and whether or not he was going to be the good the Mojave needed, the Follower was not a man who knew how to trust easily. Even without the barring… difficulties of his own past, the need for those here to not know of such factors, there had simply too many time when the man’s trust had been an object taken for granted - proven timelessly worthless towards people he’d foolishly cared for and placed that trust within.

However the past would be the past. Damage left behind was something to consider and remember, yes - lessons learned - but Arcade was not a man who dwelled continuously within it. In a long run he still clung oft perilously to the hope for that better future - for himself, and for the place that had become his home.

The other’s apology brought a curl of a smile dancing across his lips, there and gone, before he proffered the other man an easy shrug. "It’s fine." But the fact that the courier even attempted an apology was almost something of a surprise - the new flicker of almost bemused surprise burning in blue eyes momentarily. Apologies were a thing rare enough with humanity these days, even more so ones that were sincere, and perhaps the courier had not a clue how that had worked a few ticks into his own benefit. Slightly. Ish.

There was still perhaps a long way to go.

"An eyebot? I see." The following musing silence was perhaps near uncharacteristic of Arcade but he looked away, feigning as if he were focused on their surrounding terrain as they traveled along the battered, crumbling road. The alarm was there, brief but certainly tearing through his own senses before he tried to shove it away. It meant nothing. Surely it meant nothing - it couldn’t mean anything. "You think that it’ll help in any way? From what I’d heard they’re malfunctional and unreliable at best - it’s probably best to just leave it as it is." As if his discomfort towards the mere idea wasn’t probably transparent as best, but he powered on as if nothing was going on with an almost flippant wave of his hand off towards the side, knowing better than to close his eyes while traversing on such uneven surface lest he end up taking an none too graceful [and ultimately utterly undignified] collision with the ground.

But this in and of itself was shaky metaphorical ground, worse than what they were currently traveling on. The blond almost misstepped, catching himself just in time with a little comical almost-hop forward to avoid the pothole - a crater caused by some long forgotten explosion or other and eroded further by the desert’s climate - before he seemed to gather himself back up. Study it? Not at all. I’ve just — read some things up on them.” Sure, as if thaaat was really the truth behind it all, but it wasn’t untruth either. He had read on them before when perusing through his collection of old pre-war books, picked up here and there along the way. "I’ve an eclectic sense of taste, what can I say? It does a man good to be well-rounded."

reblogged 18 hours ago @ 20 Aug 2014 with 8 notes via/source
xIC xdoubletxp xIT IS WONDERFUL I SWEAR xgg tumblr for not letting me know it was replied to ugh xand all is goooood I just need to get better at shortening Arcade's replies lmao whoops

                                It’s not a QUESTION of can or can’t.
                                Some things in life, you just [ do. ]

reblogged 1 day ago @ 19 Aug 2014 with 237 notes via/source
xRelevant xMusings
betterhealing said:
"You look like you could use a hand."



  “Well isn’t that what you’re here for, Doc? When the going gets tough
    and the Cazadors get bite-y, it’s Arcade to the rescue.”


     ”‘Course if you’d accepted my offer to come along in the first place,
  then I wouldn’t have t’drag myself back here every time I felt a bit faint.”

"Arcade to the rescue? That’s it, I’m sorry to inform you that you’re doomed in that case. It was nice knowing you."

"Careful now, if you keep saying things like that I may just think you’re dragging yourself back here just to see me. There are other doctors around, you know, and I can assure you they’re more competent at their jobs than myself.”

answered 2 days ago @ 18 Aug 2014 with 3 notes via/source
xIC xlasershot xOmfg no xRocket not that face


"Naw I got what you meant cara." He smiled widely, bending at the waist as he laughed. "Glad you liked it." If anyone could get joy out of his singing then that was worth it. 

An almost wistful smile darted across the blond’s lips for a moment before he offered a little shrug, glancing away as if idly his attention from where it had been scrutinizing the RED Scout. "I’m surprised you’re here, doing this, when you could have chosen that particular path instead."

Maybe Arcade was just musing.

reblogged 3 days ago @ 17 Aug 2014 with 6 notes via/source
xIC xwhenyoureyoungandntwantsome xTF2 AU
Recently Arcade randomly received a flower crown from nxhilistic, who has alas seemed to poof, but it was one of the nicest unexpected things anyone has done for him as of late. I thought it only fitting to commission this icon of it for use on this blog haha. xD

Wonderful art by CrescentMarionette. Please do not remove this artist credit.
THIS IS NOT A FREE USE ICON. Please do not take and use in any way, shape, or form; you do not have permission - this was commissioned for my use on this blog only. Thank you.

Recently Arcade randomly received a flower crown from nxhilistic, who has alas seemed to poof, but it was one of the nicest unexpected things anyone has done for him as of late. I thought it only fitting to commission this icon of it for use on this blog haha. xD

Wonderful art by CrescentMarionette. Please do not remove this artist credit.

THIS IS NOT A FREE USE ICON. Please do not take and use in any way, shape, or form; you do not have permission - this was commissioned for my use on this blog only. Thank you.

posted 4 days ago @ 16 Aug 2014 with 21 notes
xArcade Gannon xFallout New Vegas xFallout xCharacter art xCommissioned work xNo really xjust because something is of a canon character does not make it free use xplease do not take
thegreatestmarksman said:
Not going to be sorry. *pins you against the wall and kisses you* ((pass this on to the next 10 people on your dash))



"Not going to be sorry about w-??" Arcade found himself without the opportunity to finish when the stranger pinned him against the wall and, quite literally in this case, stole away a kiss. When it was over with he raised a brow slightly and eyed him. "Well. Admittedly that’s assuredly an interesting way to first meet someone.”

Clint shook his head, not sure if he should be annoyed or scared. So he settled somewhere at really tired. “I am going to kill Tony Stark and you can put that in writing if you guys still write stuff down.” The archer glanced at the towers. Well, they were kind of familiar. He still remembers more. More buildings, more lights.

To stop his sudden anxiousness at being hurled into the future, Clint did the math of how far in the future he was. “267 years.” He said after a moment. He couldn’t help but laugh, rubbing the back of his head. “Well, I’m long dead. Good to know.” He stuck out his hand for Arcade to shake. “Hi, I’m Clint Barton from the year 2014 and I really hope there’s still bow and arrows in this time or I’m going to be very sad.” Jokes, yes, he can take comfort in that. He can always take comfort in that.

"Tony Stark.." Arcade mused the name aloud but it brought no flickers or any form of recognition through the man - it was a name he’d never heard before. Perhaps unsurprising overall, although the other had said it as such that he made certain it would be one he’d remember for later. "We do indeed still write. Fairly aptly as well… despite the behaviors of some factions I can assure you not all are uncivilized.”

"You look remarkably well for a dead man in that case." Okay okay, maybe that was a bit low.. but the blond Follower couldn’t resist the deadpan as he studied the man before him. Perhaps a firm dosage of Fixer might help with whatever… delusion that he must be suffering through? Hmm… "There’s a woman in Westside that uses a crossbow, but I’ve not seen a legitimate bow and arrows in use around here. Maybe any of the tribal groups would be more your luck." Maybe, but he knew a number used firearms as well and were probably more likely to shoot him over everything else.

answered 4 days ago @ 16 Aug 2014 with 12 notes via/source
xIC xthegreatestmarksman xArcade hush xyou're not helping matters

                                                                                       It’s killing you.
                                                                                       People keep getting hurt
                                        and you just can’t stop it.

reblogged 5 days ago @ 15 Aug 2014 with 2,112 notes via/source
xRelevant xMusings
betterhealing said:
00:00:00 [For hilarity's sake haha]



Holden stared at the door to the medic bay, there was something keeping him from going inside, something he knew very well. He hated anything to do with hospitals or things that reminded him of them. But his legs were in pain and he had to go in. And it wasn’t even tolerable pain; rather it was every step made him want to cry. 

Letting out a breath he finally forced himself to walk in, trying to ignore the pain, grit his teeth painfully. From the looks of it there was only one person in there, one medic, and it made his arm scream. Wait what? Holden’s let his eyes drop to the markings on his arm. There was no way. 

No fucking way. A… Medic? 

Except his wrist read all zeroes and he felt something in his stomach. Falling to his knees he choked back a sound, failing at that, causing the medic to look at him. Holden just smiled a bit crookedly, then confused as the other started speaking in large full sentences, words he didn’t know. 

This was going to be interesting. 

Holden let out a shaky breath before nodding. “I can get up…” His eyes slipped to the floor, to his arm, which was starting to worry him. “My… Legs are a bit fucked up. But you can fix that?” There was a tremble in his thigh that was beginning to bother him. 

There was a second where his head quirked to the side as he tried to figure things out, then he licked his lips timidly. “You…?” He didn’t know how to ask anything. 

Everything was lost in his brain, Irish muddled with English, and Holden smiled a big dumb smile at the other. 

Shifting his weight a bit Arcade moved to settle into a half-crouch, reaching out with the intention of helping the younger man up should he need - and accept, for that matter - it. "Maybe." A crooked little smile flitted across the man’s face as he tilted his head slightly inquiringly in return. "A bit fucked up is rather broad terminology. I need to know more specifics than that to see what treatment will be best." After all - if it was something easy that natural treatments could work with each the Medic by far preferred to use that instead of his medigun.

"I..?" There was something else the matter. Something that didn’t seem to fit right… unless the younger man was dazed with pain. Concern flitted across the blond’s face as he reached out to wave a hand in front of the other’s face; seeking to try to snap him back to some form of reality.

Maybe. The Scout’s behavior was almost painfully alarming.

answered 6 days ago @ 14 Aug 2014 with 5 notes via/source
xIC xwhenyoureyoungandntwantsome xTF2 AU xTimer AU


  “I’m afraid that’s confidential.”


              “However, I do believe I have the privilege of asking your reason for visiting this little community? Or the island, for the matter.”

"Now now."

"I’m afraid that’s confidential.”

reblogged 1 week ago @ 13 Aug 2014 with 8 notes via/source
xIC xialways-haveaplan

so you make your face a mask, 
                    a mask that hides your face, 
                                a face that hides the pαιɴ.
                                                a pain that eαтѕ your heart
                                                               a heart nobody { knows. }   

reblogged 1 week ago @ 12 Aug 2014 with 3,914 notes via/source
xRelevant xMusings