#saltyspitfire

Holly stood at the screen door, peering out at the man as he spoke. While Jake was still a kid, she found herself trusting his judge of character, and was fairly certain that he wouldn't have sent some shithead up to bother her. She pushed the door open, and waved him up the steps, "Yeah, I got a pile of 'em. Keep 'em inside so the weather don't ruin 'em. Come on in."

The relief was clear on the man’s face as he headed up the steps towards the cabin door, happy to have found the right place to begin with and even happier that the trader was willing to let him peruse. The porch already gave him a homier feel - shelves and boxes of doohickeys and whatnots aplenty, much like how his parents had stored their scavenged finds before they had a chance to sort through it all - and the trader herself seemed nice enough.

“Do you happen to sort the books by what they’re about, or do you just kind of keep them all together?” Chase asked, peering around curiously once he was inside and his eyes got used to the dimmer lighting. 

The first thing that caught his eye were the shelves of stuffed animals staring at him, some of them wearing glasses, others wearing ill-fitting hats or little outfits. A bright grin crossed his face and he was immediately enamored with the toys, stepping closer to give each of them a better look. Any response the trader had to his earlier question would likely fall on deaf ears now.

[Prompt]

Boyd released his hold and furrowed his brows, assessing Grant’s expression to try and figure out what exactly he was going to ask for, or if he was just messing with him.

The comment elicited a quick twitch of Mason’s mouth that could just as easily have been a trick of the light as it could have been a smile. “Nah,” she replied with a brief shake of her head, “died before she had the chance, I’m afraid.”

Willa hadn’t expected anyone to hear the string of curses that left her mouth, and the sound of Grant’s voice made her jump slightly.

Holly, who was now annoyed with herself, and a little with Asher, pursed her lips and let out a sigh, "I'm just sayin'...I know I been a bitch. And yeah you're a shithead 'n sometimes you got it comin', but...sometimes you don't. So...I'm just tryin' to say I'm sorry."

Asher quietly listened, brows furrowed as she spoke, as if awaiting a punchline or insult. When none came, he narrowed his eyes at her, clearly uncertain of the situation. Was he to take this at face value and treat it like a legitimate apology, or should he shrug it off like it was nothing? 

On the one hand, her treatment of him had never truly bothered him. It was expected. It was familiar. Yet somehow, despite it all, they had grown somewhat comfortable around one another now and Asher almost felt protective of the salty trader at times. Especially since Jay had stumbled into his life. Holly was one of the first people he wanted to introduce the boy too. But did Asher want to admit that out loud?

“...alright,” he said finally, after what felt like a blanket of silence had closed in around them. He nodded and cleared his throat. “I... appreciate that.”

Asher looked away from her for a moment, almost looking mildly irritated, though it was mostly at how weird and uncomfortable it felt to admit his actual thoughts and feelings aloud without being crass. It was much easier to make a joke and brush it off than take anything serious, and Asher hated how much of a struggle it was for him to be sincere. He always felt so fucking raw when he tried.

It wasn’t often that Benny had accidents around Goodneighbor anymore; he had lived there long enough to know how to get around without tripping or walking into things, and the cane certainly helped. Only problem now was that he wasn’t in Goodneighbor; he had accompanied Vanessa and their father on a supply run. Well, they were getting supplies, and Benny was allegedly getting some ‘fresh air’, because it would be ‘good for him’.

[Prompt]

saltyspitfire replied to your post: “You want coffee? 'Cause I was gonna make some.“

“Coffee ain’t gonna help with sleepin’,” Holly remarked, giving a short laugh. Regardless, she pushed the door open, and waved for him to come inside, “I can fix you somethin’ to eat too, if you’re hungry.”

“No, but now that the sun’s up, I need to stay awake,” he countered with a smile and a short laugh. “I don’t think the Grahams would be pleased to find me napping underneath the mutfruit plants when I should be tending them.” 

Upon being invited to enter her home, Emil wiped his boots on the mat in front of the doorway before walking inside. He took a brief look around before letting out a content sigh and aiming a sincere smile her way.