[NU] Drinking games [Ru1.4]

edited June 2014 in nupocalypse
Let's pick up a few hours after the encounter with Corbett, Shan, and Doghead. You've gone back to the church, and stripped down to your long shirt. You've also had your bath... Speaking of which, where do people bathe around here? Is there a designated bath-house? Or do you just use the lake? You've heard some grumblings about Doghead bitching mercilessly for his stolen goods. The whole town feels a little on edge.

So are you still bathing when Roark comes and finds you?


  • [Rue]

    There's a gem or whate'er inna town, got lotsa showers an a pool an whatnot, but I head out to the lake. There's a coupla places where ya can get some privacy an just soak. Cold, yeah, but free.

    I been inna water fer a while now, with my shirt up onna bush dryin'. Mag's onna shore, but I got me a lil cutter near, sittin' right by Jose. I been moving over to take a swig, an then treadin back out fer a bit.

    Roark comes up on me as I'm layin on my back starin' at the sun. I do it fer a while, till I see blue spots, even when I close my eyes. World gets all swirly sometimes, too. 'Specially when Ima gettin' my drink on.

    I hear Roark like a big ole elk comin through, so I call out to 'im when I see 'im come out to the shore, "Hey Roark, whatcha doin, darlin?"
  • Roark isn't one to hide his presence. He's quiet, but respectful of your privacy, so he averts his gaze when he sees you're bathing. "Afternoon, Rue... Just comin' by to chat's all. Doghead's been yakkin' at me all day 'bout some food of his got stole. Says he wants me to make sure you're crackin' heads until it's found..."

    You can practically feel him smiling with this joke, "You, uh... You don't intend on crackin' any heads, do ya?"

    This is Roark:
  • [Rue]

    I tread on up to the shore, lookin at 'im, the blue spots in my eyes, but I see 'im smilin. Roark's always got a joke on 'im. I move right up to Jose an take my last swig o' 'im, swallow it back. Feelin' good an buzzed. Figgers summin'd come up an ruin with Doghead talk. "I aint crackin' no heads, Roark. Ize takin a bath!" I give 'im my grin, that dopey permagrin I get when I got my buzz on.

    But he wants a real answer. "Whoever took his food an cigs aint gonna give it up. You an I know it waren't nobody local. I checked the only pair o' strangers, an aint neither got Doghead's food an whatnot. I tole that ole man to shaddup an I'd take carea 'im. A-hole needs to lock down his shit, if ya ask me."

    I reach out for the bank and pull myself up. Naked as a jaybird, but I don't rightly care. I lookit Roark fer a sec like I'm darin 'im to say somethin', not angry, not like I'll hit 'im, just darin' 'im. I walk o'er to my longshirt, which is still damp, an struggle with puttin' it on. It's all soggy, an my fingers aint workin' so great. I kinda step back an forth fiddlin' with it fer a bit. "I tole Doghead I'd do right by 'im, an I'll get 'im some food. Is he plum out? I got me some can o' chicken to spare. I just thought he's bein' onery, Roark."

    "Dammit to hell, this damn shirt is all frakkin twisted inna.."
  • Roark nods, and leans against a tree for comfort. He's rather soft-spoken, so he leans closer to you without actually looking at you. "Yeah... I've been tellin' Doghead to lock up a long time now. It ain't your business huntin' down food he couldn't keep an eye on. It ain't like he's hurtin' or anythin'. You know him — he hoards everythin'." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a spliff, lights it, and adds, "I'll make sure he gets sorted out. You just focus on keepin' us safe, yeah? He won't like it, but he don't like much of anythin', does he?"

    He chuckles softly, and lets you fumble with the shirt for a while before offering to help. "Here, lemme giver a shot... Them new guys — you think they're on the level? Any of 'em fixin' to stay?"
  • [Rue]

    Under the shirt, I laugh when Roark says Doghead don't like nothin'. A-hole.

    I can't help but relax when Roark finally helps me with my blasted shirt. The sleeves were all knotted, an Ize tryin' to put my head inna armhole or somethin'. When he gets it o'er my head an I pullit down, I waver fer a sec there, head all woozy. Permagrin comes back, "Thank ya, Roark."

    I stoop o'er an grab my belt, start bucklin' on Mag. Feels right, havin' Mag with me. "I'll keep ya safe, Roark. Don't you worry none. I'm shit at most things, but I kill real good." I get the belt loop in and cinch it, then reach up an cup 'is cheek. Blue dots 're gone now, so's I see him behind those spectacles. "Keep Doghead quiet fer a bit, I tole 'im I'd do what I can, an I'll do right by 'im. Somehow."

    He asks me 'bout the strangers, an I shrug, "Hard to say fer sure. With Doghead bein the welcomin' wagon, I think Shan may move on. He's a good feller, good talker like you. I hope he stays. Th' other one, that kids one o' Harrow's fam'ly. Theyze travelers. Don't got no roots. I just hope they swing back by afore they leave fer good."

    I lookit 'im fer a minute, scrunch up my eyes, "You didn't come here just to lemme know Doghead's a whiny bitch, didya? What else's wrong?"
  • Roark smiles when you thank him, then makes a dubious face when you say you're only good at killing. "Sayin' you're only good for killin's like sayin' I'm only good fer smokin' spliffs, and talkin' atcha. I'll keep Doghead off yer backside though... Might wanna keep an eye on that new fella though — the dark-skinned one, Shan you said — Doghead's been talkin' a lotta shit 'bout him. I saw him settin' up a camp out inna ol' park. Dunno how long he'll be 'round, but he's here. Don't know 'nough 'bout 'em kids to comment on 'em. I'll take your word onnit."

    He takes another drag off his spliff when you ask what else is wrong, and adds, "I was out on a walk last night, 'n stumbled on Doughboy last night... Killed." He takes his spliff out of his mouth, and rubs his chin pensively, "beat to high hell... Wasn't pretty... No sir... Cinch ain't come back from that outin' of hers ... Clarity said she's busy out talkin' with some folks up north — hungry folks — now he's out on a lead 'bout some find... I caught wind of some boys settin' up camp moving through from the ruins. I was hopin' you could go out there 'n spook 'em off."
  • [Rue]

    I grin at ole Roark, "Waitasec. Yer good fer more'n talkin' and spliffs? Nobody tole me that. heh heh" I reach fer the spliff, since he gotta show, I getta pull. "Don't you worry none 'bout Shan, 'e's a good man, I feel it in my bones. Don't let ole Doghead put the man out."

    The smoke from that hit curls up in my left eye, makin me squint fer a second. I hole it in, an man, Roark's homegrown is mighty fine shit. O' course the news o' Doughboy aint good. Wasn't a friend or nothin', but he was basic'ly part o' Monroe. Sorta. I lookit 'im, "Spook off a whole camp o' fellas?" I ask it like it's a tall order. An it is. I ponder fer a moment. If Roark offers another hit, I'll take it. If he don't, that's fine.

    "I'll go chat with Clare, see what 'e seen." I'll start headin' back to the church, plannin' on gettin' all dressed up in my favorite outfit. Then find Clare, lissen at 'im fer too long to tell me somethin' simple and enjoy the tellin'.
  • Roark chuckles at your comment, and nods when you ask him to keep an eye out for Doghead harassing Shan. "I'll have a chat with the man. If he's got your vote, that's good 'nough for me." He waits patiently as you take a hit, and consider how to deal with the camp. "I didn't hear nothin' 'bout numbers... But 'course I wouldn't want you doin' somethin' you think'd get you hurt. It looks like one or two guys beat on 'im — nothin' you ain't already handled — s'why I asked."

    He nods happily when you agree to chat with Clarity, and pats you on the shoulder. He hands you the rest of the spliff when he sees you want another hit, "Good stuff. You take care now, Rue." Then he heads off down the lakeside for the north side of town.

    After you're done gearing up, you'll find Clarity over at his place.
  • [Rue]

    "Oh, I see. I thought you said the fellers settin up camp were the ones that kilt Doughboy." I say, feelin' a mite dumb. But ole Roark gives me the rest o' his weed anyhow. I grin an pat 'im onna shoulder, then head on.
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