[EP: OTA, MacCready] Probably gonna break this one

[st_rontium]

It wasn't a year, not yet. Coming up on one yeah, he was pretty sure, but fuck if he actually knew. It was messed up trying to keep track of one day at a fucking time when the calendars were kinda the same just shifted some and he didn't really know what day it was when he left in the first place. Still. November. End of November. Seemed about right for the time of year when he left, though you really couldn't tell it by looking outside. It didn't get cold enough. Not that it really snowed all that much in the Commonwealth in November either. Sometimes. They'd get flurries and crap. He'd heard stories of endless blizzards further north and tales from ghouls from back when the bombs dropped about a couple decades or whatever that everything was frozen. Not now. Not anymore.

Not here either.

Still, it was probably an anniversary of something. The day he met Blue? Shit, maybe. No. No, that was before Halloween. Close on about the time they finally raided Med-Tek though and Daisy's caravan set off with the cure for Duncan.

Close enough.

Reason enough to imbibe a little.

The months in the inn, the months of quiet, all this time with so little to shoot at...

Fuck, it chafed at him, and he sat in the slightly crisp morning sun, hanging out in the garden as he pulled an institute laser rifle apart, wondering if he'd be able to figure out something new from it this time, maybe see about actually making the damn thing quieter.

Comments

[st_rontium]

"There were a few," Mac said, taking another swig of his coffee and turning his attention back to his work. "Diamond City got itself all dolled up with lights and stuff for Christmas. I'm not really sure what it was supposed to all be about. Back in Little Lamplight, we had a tradition where the older kids used to go out and get stuff for the little ones about this time. It was all a big secret surprise kinda thing where they'd wake up to presents." He leaned back a little, inspecting his work.

"The Children," slight emphasis so that maybe Percy would get he wasn't talking about actual children, "used to have this big parade thing praising rads a few years back 'fore they got too close to the common and pissed off Swan." He laughed a little to himself. Psycho bastards had earned it, really.

[st_ockandbarrel]

"That's a nice tradition, the gifts from the older children. Gifts are part of Winter's Crest too." Percy changed to another cloth as he cleaned. "Winter's Crest celebrates the turning of the season. It's a time when the veils between planes are thinnest. Many of the traditions revolve around that aspect, as well as the path out of winter."

[st_rontium]

"Seems weird to celebrate the path out of winter when winter's barely started when you celebrate it," he pointed out. He unscrewed a wad of circuitry and looked at it critically, gingerly checking the wires. Maybe that was it the issue? There were enough phones in the place he could probably pull some wires from those if he needed. Or a lot of other things actually. He tapped the tiny screwdriver against his thigh while he thought.

"You talk too much like that though and one of the blondes is gonna rope you into party planning." He glanced up at Percy. "Unless Caro already did and you're fishing for ideas."

[st_ockandbarrel]

"I am absolutely not willing to engage in party planning." Percy checked over his shoulder, just in case the unnerving blonde girl who lurked in the lobby was nearby. "It's merely on my mind because of the season. The last Winter's Crest was the first I'd spent at home in...several years. It's a good memory."

[st_rontium]

"Might not be a palace and there might not be snow, but you got your girl and a chance to make new memories. Seems like a pretty good start to me." He shrugged a little. He knew that wasn't the point, but he wasn't sure what else to say. Nostalgia never got him anywhere and he didn't have a whole lot to look fondly back on anyway.

[st_ockandbarrel]

Percy considered that and finally nodded. "You are absolutely correct."

The past, after all, was a disease. A trap. He'd always believed that it had destroyed his future as well.