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[Snowpocalypse] Happy Trails (R 3.2)
To Rossi:
It's a couple hours later, you're driving that little Subaru on the highway east, around the southern tip of Ice Lake. You've had a long time to stew on things, with Jester passed out beside you. What have you been thinking about?
What worries you about this trip, other than the eventual arrival destination? What happened to you the last time you made this trip?
Anyways, Jester stops snoring and chomps his lips, slowly waking up. He wipes the drool off the side of his mouth and sits up. He was leaning against the cold glass of the passenger window, his hair is a mess. He blinks a few times, "Hey... where we going?"
It's a couple hours later, you're driving that little Subaru on the highway east, around the southern tip of Ice Lake. You've had a long time to stew on things, with Jester passed out beside you. What have you been thinking about?
What worries you about this trip, other than the eventual arrival destination? What happened to you the last time you made this trip?
Anyways, Jester stops snoring and chomps his lips, slowly waking up. He wipes the drool off the side of his mouth and sits up. He was leaning against the cold glass of the passenger window, his hair is a mess. He blinks a few times, "Hey... where we going?"
Comments
I'm trying not to think about what happens if I don't get him there in time, or we need to remove the foot anyway. Had I not killed man-Poke, none of this would have happened... Maybe Molotov would have shot me, or something, but Jester would still be OK. I fucked up. I admit that. If he could just survive this... Get healthy again... I don't know. I don't know what I'd do. I've been offering up random shit to whoever the fuck is responsible for that kind of shit... Putting down the gun, burning the mask, hacking my own fucking head off in front of Poke...
Whatever it takes. I just want to make this right.
I'm focusing on the road, my hands clutching the wheel like it's my only lifeline. I turn my head slightly when I hear Jester stir, and take a deep breath when he asks where we're going. "East. To another doctor. How're you feeling?"
Jester reaches a hand up to your cheek, touches it lightly. "I'm alright," he lies. He spends a few minutes doing that annoying thing of just watching you, but this time he isn't grinning. His posture is lax, tired.
"How far away?"
That light touch... This is bad... I can feel my grip on the wheel tighten, and my foot gets heavy. "You tell me if anything changes, right? Anything. More pain, dizziness ... Whatever the fuck. I wanna know, alright?"
There's a beat, like a moment where after the couple weeks you've spent with him, you're waiting for some bad joke. Something like a corny come on line or a pun about your cute nose, or how he's kinda horny. Something. That's where it would happen, right now, in this stretch. It's his pattern, you know it.
"Okay." That's all he says. He's still looking, still watching you drive, studying you. Then even that breaks. He winces in a bit of pain, starts shifting his weight around to relieve any pressure, turns back to sitting upright.
Jester answers quietly, "Yeah. I hear you, Rossi." He adds, dutifully, "I won't die on you." When you glance over, you see his jaw clenched, he's just riding it out, sweat beading on his forehead.
Before you have a chance to check any further, you feel the car slip a bit, like you hit a bad patch. It takes a moment to recover, but it's enough to break you out.
Up ahead, just past New Buffalo, you see a spot where there's no road. The road just drops down into a hole. No bridge, it must've collapsed under the ice. There used to be a river here.
The road continues after maybe fifty feet. On the other side of the hole.
What do you do?
Sounds like you're reading a sitch here.
(Rolled: 2d6. Rolls: 2, 1. Total: 3)
You apply the brakes, pumping them instead of slamming them. But the car skids anyway. It's one slick sheet. The Subaru just keeps on moving. Jester sits up, like all WTF, looks over, "Buckle or bail? Buckle or bail?!""
Ahead, you see what was once the river this bridge took you over. It was maybe thirty feet down. Now, it's one block of ice. You're going to slide straight on, Rossi. This car is destined for that broken bridge. The speedometer reads 35 MPH.
You've got a couple seconds.
What do you do?
"BAIL!"
Let's see you Act Under Fire for both of you to escape the car.
(Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 5, 2. Total: 8)
You both shoulder ram your respective doors. One of them doesn't open up, though. Which one is it?
(Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 5, 6. Total: 14)
Jester frantically beats on the door, then he looks over to see yours is hanging open. "ROSSI!! Fucking go!"
But then you pull some crazy fucking stunt to get both of you at the last second, right as the car goes over the lip.
What happened?
My heart is racing as I pull myself back up from the ledge... Good thing I climb scrapers for fucking fun. Where's Jester?
He's lying on his back maybe ten feet before where you ended. He's trying to scramble up, not knowing where you were. He pushes himself up, looking in horror at the... at the you, actually.
You pull yourself up and he laughs. A bubbling laugh at first, then he starts horse laughing. "Holy shit! Rossi, you... shit, I don't even fucking care! That was INTENSE!!!"
A loud, raspy, primal scream escapes my lips and I grip furiously at my hair... I just wanna rip it out! "What the fuck is wrong with you!" I scream at myself, fighting back tears, "how the fuck did you not see that coming?!?!" I slap myself upside the head, beating the lesson into my brain...
What the fuck am I gunna do? What the fuck am I going to do?
I look over to Jester, and take a deep breath... "you OK? ... Or at least, not any worse?"
Jester looks at you with shock, a touch of something else. Horror? Pity? Sadness? Hard to tell from here. He just saw something you've kept hidden, hasn't he? Of course, the laughter dies on the wind, the bitter cold wind.
"I'm... I'm okay." he lies. He spends a moment trying to push himself up. Fails. He huffs an angry, exasperated sigh, then rolls over, starts trying to use both hands to push himself up.
It's going to be a long, long trip. Wherever you go. The trees are frozen solid here, those that still stand. No animals. No water. Nothing.
Oh hey, good news - no raiders.
What do you do?
I've got nothing left. I'm in the middle of fucking nowhere, half-way to hell, and I've got a man with an infected foot, and a ticking clock to his death. So I do the only thing I can do: I grab my bag, and gear, and I walk over to help him up...
"Can you walk?" I ask, my voice still cracking.
He rolls back over, takes your hand and gets up slowly. His muscles shake with the effort, "I can... I can hop short distances."
I assume you let him put an arm around you so he can travel, right?
Jester asks between grunts of pain, "Where to? Back? Or, uhm, forward?"
I stare longingly at the gap separating me from my fucking goal... We were so close. I look back to Jester, knowing we won't get fucking anywhere near Chi-town or South Haven by the time that infection sinks into the bone... "There was a sign about 3 miles back that said "New Buffalo" on it... Let's just go there. Find a place to hunker down. Maybe there's someone there knows something we can do... Or has a car we can use to get home. I'll make a sled out of one of the highway signs here... You can rest on it. If we're lucky we can get there in an hour or two..."
"Okay," Jester responds for the second time. The first time was lost in the wind, which is picking up. "I like sledding." He was probably going to say more. Like make some inference about you being the dog, but in some stupid way that's an odd little compliment.
But he doesn't. He doesn't have the energy.
When you walk through the icy abyss towards some respite, roll+Hard. On a 10, you make it. On a 7-9, choose who of your group takes 1-Harm AP from the cold.
On a miss, you're lost or end up in a worse situation. The MC will detail.
(Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 1, 3. Total: 7)
OOC: I took the 1-harm AP.
You were able to break open a door and help Jester into a dingy back office. With the door closed, the wind howls outside, but it doesn't cut to the bone.
Jester says weakly. "I need... I need to lay down for a bit more. I'll be ok in a bit."
Jester falls asleep, or basically passes out, right away.
He doesn't look feverish anymore. When you gently pull the fresh bandages off to look at the foot, you see that the skin has started to turn a darker hue, almost black. It's got an odor, too. Doesn't smell right, not at all.
What do you do?
I don't fucking know what to do! I've tried everything I could to save Jester's foot, and now I'm not even close enough to someone so I can amputate it safely! I wanted to make things right so fucking bad, and I fucked it up... I fucked it up, and I don't think I can do anything to save him.
I gently rest the bandages back on his foot, bury my face in my hands, and cry. I've got nothing left... No energy. No hope. Just time slipping between my fingers... Time I could be using to find a way to South Haven. Time I could be using to say goodbye. It's this time I have now that I'm going to curse until the day I die unless I can find a way to fix him, and I won't fucking abandon him.
I curl up next to him on his good side, wrapping an arm over his chest, and nuzzle my nose into his cheek. "Jester," I whisper, "I'm sorry... I'm out of ideas. I thought I could get you to my dad, and maybe get him to fix you before shit turned bad — but every time we get a little bit closer to getting you the help you need, the world throws something in my way again; and even though I may deserve it, you don't. You're the sweetest, kindest man I've ever encountered in my whole life. There are so many men in my life who I thought I loved, but would only use and abuse me... They'd hurt me... I was convinced that men would only hurt me. I was convinced that as soon as I told them that... That I loved them... They'd turn out like him... Like my Dad..."
I pause to take a breath, and my voice waivers from a mixture of fear and exhaustion. "I thought that if I could just keep you alive and healthy, you'd prove me wrong — that you wouldn't hurt me like they did — but if you die here, then I'll be right. I'll be right, and alone all over again."
I close my eyes, and a few stray tears stroll down my cheeks. I sniffle, and take a few calming breaths. "So you're not going to do that, right? I'm going to keep fucking trying, and you're not going to fucking die on me, because I love you... I love you, and I need you, and I don't know what I'd do if I lost you... Just please... Please don't die, Jester..."
I need a fucking miracle... Of all the fucking voices I've ever heard in my head, saying all the fucking shit they do from time to time — my dad's criticisms, Silica's snide comments — if any of them could just fucking help me fix this... I'd give anything. I kiss his cheek, and whisper, "please don't die..."
You pray to whatever you hold dear, while you sit over one of the few people you hold dear. It all seems so lost, Rossi. He's probably going to die here.
As you sit there, the winds blowing outside, tears cold against your red cheeks, you get a feeling, deep in the pit of your stomach. Like a voice, talking to you. Maybe it's your own? Maybe you're crazy.
You get the feeling you could reach out to Jester, that you could do something. Just you. Not your dad, nobody else, just you. But it would mean opening your entire self to him, and there will be a cost.
What do you do?
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 3, 5. Total: 10)
The maelstrom has helped you. Somehow, even Silica was there, giving you guidance. Of all the people in the world, your little sister was there, in the cacaphony and tumult of a thousand thousand minds.
You see it. You feel it. In your hands as you touch his wound. In your heart, as you reach out to him. The blackness recedes, the wound carefully mends closed. The infection shrivels up and away. His toes are still gone. But the wound is closed. A line of fresh pink flesh covers each toe nubbin.
Jester's foot is probably as good as it's gonna get. And that's okay, isn't it?
The maelstrom wants to know. Purely out of curiosity, more than anything. What would it take for you to forgive yourself for what happened with Dice and Jester? To forgive Dice for what he did, too?
Silica, you get to ask Rossi one question as well.
Hey Rossi... your sister is out there thinking of you and of Father... and she's wondering why didn't you come back for her?
Wait... I'm not sleeping now am I? ... I don't think I am.
Images of that fateful encounter with Dice keep flashing through my head, and the events of today have me reconsidering things a little... Forgiving Dice for what he did would be easier than forgiving myself — in fact, if Jester told me to, I would let it drop. As much as I hate him for hurting Jester, I can't deny what's come from the incident has been a positive force in my life... I wouldn't have forced myself to sit and stay with Jester for more than a quick fuck, if not for that. In hindsight, I think I might have forced myself to leave after our tryst in the old bank. I guess that's splitting hairs at this point, though...
Dice is no less cruel than what I've come to expect from most men in positions of power — and really, I'm no different when I wear the mask. That may be why I'm so hard on myself about this being my fault... Maybe if I could find a way to get by without the mask, I'd find some peace about what happened between Dice and Jester... It wouldn't fix me — but it would go a respectable distance towards it. I feel bad, after all, because I abandoned him — like I abandoned Silica with dad all those years ago — and he got hurt.
On the topic of Silica — we can sit here and point fingers as to why I left her, but the reason I never came back is gunna sound stupid, in hindsight... I was going to go back for Silica — that was the plan — but I was starving those first few months away from home. I spent so much time in bars, having men tell me they'd feed me if I fucked them, or acting like white knights with these fucking hidden motives... Why the fuck would I bring my sister out of an abusive home where she can eat a meal from time to time, and out to the fucking streets where the only way she'd be taken seriously was as a piece of fucking meat?
No... I didn't go back because I couldn't actually help her. Then — after I met Poptart, and started establishing myself as Ross — it didn't fucking matter, because she'd already saved herself. She didn't need me... Or at least, I thought she didn't. I guess I was just so caught up in myself, and keeping my own ass safe, that I'd convinced myself she was fine. It's just like how I left Jester in the hands of Dice... I was only worried about myself. That survival instinct kicked in, and I dropped the fucking ball.
I feel horrible about it. If I could go back and do it all over again, I'd have fought harder to bring her with me. I may not have been able to care for her back then, but I should have tried harder... I've got to try harder. Maybe if I'd tried a little harder none of this would have happened — it was a high price to pay, but it looks like I got lucky this time. Once I sort out that job with Stink Bug, and find a spot for Jester and Poptart, I'm going to find Silica and Hadden, and sort this shit out... If I can do anything to help keep them safe, then I will.
I look down at Jester, who's still out cold... I don't want to wake him. Tomorrow though — presuming he's actually, you know, alive and better — I'm gunna fuck his brains out.
His foot is still better.
A few hours pass, Jester sleeping. There are a few pieces of furniture in here that could burn, if you wanted to start a fire. How do you pass the time, all alone?
Some time in the late evening, you're lying against Jester, drifting off yourself. His fever is gone, he's resting peacefully. It's pretty nice, considering.
"Hey," he says quietly, sleepily. "That you, Rossi?" He slowly blinks his eyes open.
I slowly look up at him when I feel him stir, and lift my head up to get a better view of his face. "Yeah," I whisper, "yeah it's me... I'm here. How are you feeling?" I feel like I'm walking on egg shells...
"Double Hs." Jester says groggily, but he's starting to wake up. "You?"
"I thought I was a goner, too. I mean, I saw how Poke looked before you put me out. And then the whole time you were driving." He wiggles his half foot a bit, you feel it move near you.
"Is it bad if it doesn't hurt anymore?" He asks it seriously, a little worried.
I bite my lip when he asks about it not hurting anymore, "I, uh... I don't know... I was kinda freaking out after you passed out, and ... Well... I kinda ... I did something?" My face crumples in nervous confusion, "it was really hectic — but then next thing I knew, your foot was all pink, and healthy looking... And you're saying it doesn't hurt... I dunno, Jester..."
"Ha! That's fucking awesome!" Jester says loudly, his voice bouncing around the mostly empty room. "Moms said one of you two was fucking gifted, and Mel knew it was Sil. They were both wrong!" He puts an arm around you, his grip on your shoulder is strong, as strong as you remember.
"Got any chow?"
... Well, if they weren't jokingly talking about my tits...
I let him hug me, and slowly reach over to my bag for some food — but then I remember we've got at least a solid day's walk back to Chi-town. "I do — but we've gotta ration it. We've got a long walk home..." I hold a can of beans up for him to see, "deal?"
"Can o' beans?" Jester says with mock surprise. "Well shit. We better take care of H one first then." He pulls you to him for a kiss, a deep one. The kind you might've missed lately.
What do you do?
OOOOOoooooooooooooooohhhhhhh...
I pull back from the kiss and squint at him for being so forward, but I can't contain my smile. I'm so glad he's feeling better. I shove a coy finger in his face and whisper, "you're lucky I love you, mister."
Then before he can say anything else, I get back to the kissing.
Those three words send chills through him, you see it. His eyes widen, but then you cover his mouth with a kiss. He giggles, no seriously, giggles with delight, and then it's all fumbling to remove clothing and caressing and kisses and he's not going to call you on it. Not yet. That's for later.
Go ahead and fire that Sex Move.
And how was it, for you? What part sticks with you, even in the morning after?
That was amazing. I was pretty tired at the time, and I think I passed out for a second after the fourth orgasm, but it was so good. There was something about him during it all... We locked eyes, and normally the tension makes me look away — then he'd crack a joke, and I'd slug him... This time, though, I didn't look away, and he didn't joke. Not that I mind his sense of humor as much now, but it was odd... We shared this moment of mutual reverence, I guess... It felt good to do that with someone. It made me smile... I'm still smiling.
"That was... that was incredible, Rossi." Jester breathes into your ear in the dim light of dying embers. In the back of your mind, you know the fire will be out soon, that there's no more wood to stoke it, none in here. Tomorrow will be a long trek home, if that's where you're going. A long trek anywhere. Trouble all around.
But not here. Not with you and Jester, your lover.
He kisses the top of your head while you lie there, nestled in his arms. Softly, he whispers, "Say it again, Rossi."
I look up at him when he asks me to say it again, and a mischievous smile spreads across my face. "Say what?" I let it hang in the air a while, biting my lower lip in mock contemplation, then whisper, "I love you, Jester."
"I love you, too, Rossi." Jester answers right back.
Then, like that was all he was able to stay awake for, he settles back, and quickly falls asleep. Are you able to follow him, or do you have trouble with that?