“I'll remember you Long after this endless summer has gone I'll be lonely oh so lonely Living only to remember you-”
Cassidy wasn't sure what everybody else thought was going on during the time she spent alone with the Leslie in his quarters, but she was sure it wasn't this. Not that she gave a single fuck. This time wasn't about them, nor the King (though he did play a key part), it wasn't even about her. No this- this was all about her dad. She couldn't remember much about the man, time and years of drowning herself in booze made sure of that, but there was one thing that the years and hangovers couldn't make her forget and that was his singing.
“I'll remember too Your voice as soft as the warm summer breeze Your sweet laughter, mornings after Ever after, I'll remember you-”
He wasn't good, often forgetting words and singing off key, but that didn't matter. His singing was a comfort to her. He rarely did it, only allowing his words to flow when he thought nobody was listening, but Cass always managed to be hiding just out of view when he did so. Thinking back now, she realized that he probably knew when she was there, the old man was as perceptive as he was strong. But that was okay too, she supposed, it gave the whole thing a bit more meaning.
“To your arms someday I'll return to stay Till then I will remember too Every bright start we made wishes upon Love me always, promise always Oooh, you'll remember too-”
And now, sitting there nursing the liquor in her flask while listing to the King croon on about wishes and promises she had to bite back tears. His baritone caressed the words, singing them in perfect timing to the strumming of his guitar, where as her father's bass would've rumbled over them as he did something mundane as cleaning his gun, but the effect was still the same. She felt calm, at peace, and -though she'd never admit it out loud- comforted.
“I'll remember you...”*
The King let the final note fade, leaving them both in a comfortable silence. She allowed a small smile to adorn her lips, mind wondering just where in this sorry excuse for a world -rather it be in a cave or a shallow grave- her old man was. She'd like to believe he was still out there, wandering around being a surly old cuss, but he was old; doubly so if one considered the lack of longevity in wastelanders. The thought was depressing, and depression, she'd learned, did not mix well with drinking. Time for another song.
“Hey Les, hows about you-”
BAM! POP! FIZZLE!
Cass stopped mid-sentence, exchanging a look with the King before rubbing a weary hand at her eyes. She knew that sound, just as anybody traveling with Roxanna for more than a week would. Under normal circumstances she wouldn't have found it particularly troubling, but considering the only protectron with in a twenty foot radius was most defiantly not hostile...
“Now you just hold tight my lovely Rose,” Leslie said as he placed his guitar back in its case, “that sounds like something the King needs to attend to.”
Cass pushed up from the couch, ignoring his instructions. If that sound was what she thought it was -and really, what else could it be?- then she was going to have to do some damage control. She took another swig from her flask before tucking it into her pocket and heading down the hall.
New Vegas Host Club (2b/?)
Long after this endless summer has gone
I'll be lonely oh so lonely
Living only to remember you-”
Cassidy wasn't sure what everybody else thought was going on during the time she spent alone with the Leslie in his quarters, but she was sure it wasn't this. Not that she gave a single fuck. This time wasn't about them, nor the King (though he did play a key part), it wasn't even about her. No this- this was all about her dad. She couldn't remember much about the man, time and years of drowning herself in booze made sure of that, but there was one thing that the years and hangovers couldn't make her forget and that was his singing.
“I'll remember too
Your voice as soft as the warm summer breeze
Your sweet laughter, mornings after
Ever after, I'll remember you-”
He wasn't good, often forgetting words and singing off key, but that didn't matter. His singing was a comfort to her. He rarely did it, only allowing his words to flow when he thought nobody was listening, but Cass always managed to be hiding just out of view when he did so. Thinking back now, she realized that he probably knew when she was there, the old man was as perceptive as he was strong. But that was okay too, she supposed, it gave the whole thing a bit more meaning.
“To your arms someday I'll return to stay
Till then I will remember too
Every bright start we made wishes upon
Love me always, promise always
Oooh, you'll remember too-”
And now, sitting there nursing the liquor in her flask while listing to the King croon on about wishes and promises she had to bite back tears. His baritone caressed the words, singing them in perfect timing to the strumming of his guitar, where as her father's bass would've rumbled over them as he did something mundane as cleaning his gun, but the effect was still the same. She felt calm, at peace, and -though she'd never admit it out loud- comforted.
“I'll remember you...”*
The King let the final note fade, leaving them both in a comfortable silence. She allowed a small smile to adorn her lips, mind wondering just where in this sorry excuse for a world -rather it be in a cave or a shallow grave- her old man was. She'd like to believe he was still out there, wandering around being a surly old cuss, but he was old; doubly so if one considered the lack of longevity in wastelanders. The thought was depressing, and depression, she'd learned, did not mix well with drinking. Time for another song.
“Hey Les, hows about you-”
BAM! POP! FIZZLE!
Cass stopped mid-sentence, exchanging a look with the King before rubbing a weary hand at her eyes. She knew that sound, just as anybody traveling with Roxanna for more than a week would. Under normal circumstances she wouldn't have found it particularly troubling, but considering the only protectron with in a twenty foot radius was most defiantly not hostile...
“Now you just hold tight my lovely Rose,” Leslie said as he placed his guitar back in its case, “that sounds like something the King needs to attend to.”
Cass pushed up from the couch, ignoring his instructions. If that sound was what she thought it was -and really, what else could it be?- then she was going to have to do some damage control. She took another swig from her flask before tucking it into her pocket and heading down the hall.