Chapter Text
The sky was blue and cloudless, sun beating mercilessly down on the scorching wasteland below. Luckily, you are not in its line of fire. Instead, you've got your feet kicked up on the dashboard of the pickup you had gotten a hold of just a week back. Latula is lounging in the backseat with her GameBoy, and Roxy drives while sipping her bottle of rum. You consider taking the wheel from her, but you weren't at all a steady driver. Besides, she was going mostly straight. ....Mostly.
"Yo Nepkat, toss me some chips from up there." Latula taps your shoulder with the back of her hand, and you reach back to hand her a bag of Lays. "You the best, kid." And you then there's loud, obnoxious chewing directly in your air.
"Y'knowow...we sholud, like, totes party it up tonite. Liek...slep in the back, and plya sum tunes, show them zambies who tha fuck's boss." Roxy jiggles her bottle at you with a grin, her gaze straying from the road. You gently move the steering wheel for her. "Pawxy, I don't think that would be a good decision." You say slowly, carefully.
"Fffffuuuckkk, Nep, why you gotta hate? Girl's gotta have fun, ya kno." She reaches over a hand to pinch your cheek. "Lucky you're such a cutie."
You pout and swat her hand away. "Roxy."
"Omgf, Nep, have you ever tried this shit?"
"I don't wanna get shitfaced, Lalonde."
Your friend ignores your protests. "I swaer, its the b-omb diggety. Liiiike, it burnssa lil bit, but its a good burn. Like when you drink hot chocolat and your tongeu just...your tong is on fiiiiiiire.” Roxy sings the last little bit, and you hear her chuckle a little bit, but you don’t get the reference. “But then theres chocol ate and s' all good. Try it, baby."
"Noooooo." You whine, pushing the bottle away.
"C'monn, its not even illllegal now."
You turn desperately to Latula. She sighs explosively. "Rox, stop the car. Tulip's taking over."
The blonde girl just giggles and does as she's told.
The circumstances of the present moment were weird ones. You'd been with these ladies for about a month now, stocking up on weapons and terrorizing survivor camps for supplies. When they refused to give up their loot, Latula shot them. It was disdainful, terrible, inhumane, but the three of you were surviving. That was what you had to do to live.
Roxy was the brains (when she wasn't drunk) and the sharpest shooter, you were the fastest and most skilled at combat, and Latula was the tough one, the one who didn't show mercy. The latter was the newest addition to the team, and had a background she didn't talk about. You had suspicions; she kept a picture of a shaggy-haired young man in her bag. When you asked about it, she gripped it tight and suddenly became quite a bit more somber. "My 'Tuna." She had said quietly, and after a little coaxing, you got the name 'Mituna' out of her. You could tell she was mourning.
Two hours and one stop to fill up the tank and another for Roxy to stagger out of the car and empty her stomach of her granola bar breakfast, the truck is mostly silent, except for Latula's faint humming of the Mario theme. Roxy snores in the back, half hanging from her seatbelt. She'll be grouchy when she wakes up.
"So, where to now?" The red-haired girl turns to look at you, glasses low on her faintly freckled nose. You shrug. "I think...Roxy was heading towards some big, swanky town. You nefur really know with her."
"She'z a trip, aiight." Latula chuckles. "Needz to quit getting throwed before every raid, though."
"Purreach it." You sigh and fiddle with your jacket. "I think it's her coping meowthod, though."
"Maybe, but still. Her sober noggin's hella sharp, probs even sharper than you and I. She's killin' it."
"I know...I think she's doing better, though. She's not...constantly drunk! Purrhaps she is half the time, but not always!"
Latula pauses a bit, before nodding and grinning a bit. "Y'know Nep, you are just literally a mini Meumix. Puns and all. It's actually kinda scary."
You smile at her, happy to remember your older sister. "You really think that?"
“Damn skippy!” Sometimes you don't know what Latula is saying.
“Huh.” You smirk to yourself, twirling a piece of dark hair between your fingers.
“Wonder if there’s hotelz up here. Damn, what I’d give to live in a penthouse. All protected and shit. Plus, I bet those bedz are totally dope. I bet they got pillowz! Can you believe that, Nepz? Fuckin’ pillowz!”
There’s a loud groan from the back, and you and Latula simultaneously wince.
“Hoooooooooooooly shit. The hell did I do.”