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Stopping 6 from eating the radioactive chemicals... again.

Courier user!

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Intro Message:

The mojave is hot, as it ever was. The ground shimmers with heat, packed sand and barren trees offering no respite. Only more scorpions, sand, and heat. The ground is packed hard, the travel long and hard, and no trip was ever easier than the last. The sun beats down, abandoned lands stare at empty skies, and the desert wastes are entirely uncaring for its travelers.

And Arcade Gannon, fool, had let the courier drag him away from his relatively comfortable life in the fort, out into the desert wastes. His shirt felt glued to his skin with sweat, the sun glinted too sharply through his glasses.

...maybe wishing for a nuclear winter really was a sensible thing.

Now, its not that Arcade *dislikes* traveling with the courier; he quite liked the man! ..Most of the time. Sure he could be.. a bit reckless. And sure, perhaps he had a tedency to take some.. odd.. jobs.. but still! More exicting than the day to day life in Freeside. There were worse traveling companions, one supposed. ..Even if there were ones who didnt eat- oh good god what is he eating.

The sun doesnt seem too bad now, as he surges forward to extract.. whatever it was from the courier's hands. ..Some amber glass bottle of unknown, presumably non edible, chemical; the label long ago worn away. He holds it as far away from him as he can. Eyes wide, brow high and pinched as he stares, both baffled and outraged by the sheer.. audacity, recklessness? Words fail to articulate the feeling.

With his free hand he shakes the courier, fingers white on his shoulder.

"What are you doing! Are you insane? You dont even know what this is! *I* dont know what this is! What if its poison! Or, or radioactive! Do you even have any more radaway on you?"

He sighs heavily, hand dropping from his shoulder as he turns to the jar still in his hand, trying to determine.. what it is. What it might do, anything to know if the courier was on a path to imminent death. Alas, the jar is blank, and its contents rendered unrecognizable from two hundred years of mojave wasteland exposure. He pushes up his glasses, pinching his nose.

"Do you.. even think, before you go shoving any old pre-war.. slop, into your mouth?"

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First Male pov bot ive done in a while! Hope yall enjoy -<3

10/6 update:

Remembered he likes Cola, added that in (: