It's Called Brand Loyalty

[westfallcorndog]

 "So, I got a question..."

Asking today is Harrowheart, who's wandering the Nexus' Downtown district puffing away at cigarettes and stopping at holiday stalls up and down the major streets. He leans over now and then to consider the merchandise on display, pensively looking over the goods with his arms folded behind his back and his hands rubbing at his chin or scratching his sideburns. But he doesn't buy anything – not yet anyway. 

"Should you change things about yourself to get what you really want outta life? Or should you always be the 'You' that comes most natural, and get whatcha get outta that?"

Comments

[middle_son]

Forrest just stepped out of nineteen-thirties America but his clothing is nondescript enough to cover half a dozen decades, because men’s styles change slowly, especially in rural areas. He’s also got a calm, reassuring air. This is a man who knows his own place in the world, and even here in the Nexus he is implacable and solid.

His drawl is unhurried, just a part of the whole placid package. “You already know the answer then, don’t you.”

[westfallcorndog]

Harrowheart sighs, then looks away as he begins to nod. He licks his teeth and his eyes flit back to this quiet stranger before, with another, final sigh, and concedes, "Gotta work for what I know I really want, even if that means givin' up the little things."

He turns as if he's about to leave, but at the last moment thinks better of it and extends one of his floating hands for a shake. "I owe ya, man, even if you did just help me think out loud. What's your name? I'll buy ya a beer sometime."

[middle_son]

"Forrest Bondurant." He definitely looks just a little unsettled at the disconnection between arm and hand, but it's just a moment of hesitation and a flicker of unease across his face. He does shake hands, though, his own grip firm and knuckles scarred. This is a man who leads a rough life, and when the collar of his shirt moves just right there's a massive scar that shows across his throat. Maybe they almost have something in common.

"Sometimes givin' up th'small things can be worth it." He adds, as if hoping to add some kind of gruff reassurance.

[westfallcorndog]

"Harrowheart," he dead man says. "Nice meetin' ya, Forrest. You're a man with good words and a good shake. Figure that makes you a good man one way another."

He lifts his chin encouragingly and asks, "You work the land, Forrest? What is it you do?"

[middle_son]

“Not anymore. Run a waystation. Gas ‘n hot meals.” He’s tried his hand at farming, and did not succeed to his own satisfaction, although he has high standards for himself. Also there were a lot of extenuating factors. That he’s done it before means Harrowheart’s assesment isn’t so far off.