I shake my head. "You already gave yourself away, old woman. Remember, 'It's all lies, pretty pretty.' Can you not be honest with me now, after all this."
Fekin' JD. Our hands are drippin' in blood, not unlike the times we've gutted a few delinquent road agents for fekin' up our action. Granted: nobody was gunna miss them cookin' low-lives, and I seem to remember tellin' JD at one point that, "we didn't get to our current, comfortable, positions by slittin' the throat of every rocksucker whose character it would improve." Seems I might be a bit of a hypocrite.
All that said... Sierra has it right: we need folks to know you don't fek with The Irons...
"You know damn well as good as I do, JD, that miss Ziggy here was bound to have an accident before she ever could have collected on that three barter..." I bring the knife closer to Ziggy's throat, just enough to draw a speck of blood. "Now ain't the right time to be lyin' to us, you hear? I can price-gouge too — and you don't wanna be payin' my price on the truth.
The Feed is berserk. Top trending hashtag is #riggedDVFP, but the competition is fierce because nobody quite understands what they just saw, myself included. While Feed activity is high, the pressure of it is different from before. Curious.
I come back to myself, test my hands and glance around. Gonna have to walk through some blood to leave. I turn my body away from Ziggy and Sierra and get off the barstool with a grunt, take up my cane and work my way around to the door.
"Well." I lift up a hand in a lazy 'farewell', directed behind me. "JD, you can send a runner or not. For the bottles."
Zig's scowl drops, the edge in her voice softens, "I need that levy. If I can't hold the territory, I'm out like Thrashnar, and the next one'll be worse."
June, JD gives a nod, offering a jingle, then sends H along with you to take up the bottles. Once you've settled up with that, where are you headed?
Well, I'm leaving the beer here, but the help getting the rest of it back to my nook of the Irons is appreciated. I send H back on her way with a handful of basil for her trouble. The generosity might tip me off, I don't care. I move my relay to watch over my door.
I have a seat on my bed, light up another cig to help me forget the smell. My jacket gets shifted off, my hat set on top of it, my sleeves unbuttoned. I give my assortment of material possessions a long, hard look - what goes, what stays, who do I ask to move my kindlin', and where do I go? Probably Depot. Truk Stop'd be energetic, which is a draw and a repellent both.
I stare longest at my garden. Those humpin' roses took forever to find, I'm sure Cinch thinks I'm crazy for insistin' we look all through the old mountain spots and then carefully dig 'em up like they were babies. Fuggit, they all come with me. Momma's got you, babies.
I roll my sleeves up and start bundlin' things together carefully.
I sigh and put my head in my hands, visibly fading. "Zig, I toldya I don't run the place. Hoolies, I just want to know who told you about me and why. Do I have to worry about more incidents like this?" I look up, meeting her eyes. "Let me help you here, please."
Ziggy huffs a derisive laugh, "You carved a third outta my gang. Don't need any more o' yer help." But she's well and truly beat, and knows it. "Sub-Warden offered up good barter n' trade to make yer life hard. But said you're sacro-fuggin'-sanct. Nobody to touch you."
I was never in any real danger, of course I wasn't. Just all the people around me. Frack.
Fracking Gloriana. Fracking DVFP. Bile rises cant stop it. I feel green and dizzy.
We need to come to terms with Ziggy. She's right, the next person who Gloriana sends might not be as friendly. But my head is spinning. I can't think straight.
Is she watching me right now?
"Make a deal with her Esco, she's right, the next one could be worse. I gotta..." I gesture to his room. I get up, quickly, my movements wobbly, but I make it to Esco's bathroom in time for all that expensive hootch to burn it's way back up my throat.
What the blazin' hell just happened? I'm standin' here with my mouth ajar, watchin' Sierra bolt for my room, wondering whether I should chase after her or not... I think I should, but duty calls... I crane my neck around, to catch Ziggy's peripheral,
"I'm gunna make this clear once, and only once — you get 1-barter tonight once we settle up, and you tell me when you're comin' back for the next one so you don't catch us with our fekin' pants down, and we can avoid another mess like this." I bring the knife closer to her neck, and growl in her ear, "you get greedy, and you'll find yourself bein' fed to Mr. Qing's pigs upstairs — I got no issues tryin' my luck with the next cooker that thinks they can squeeze blood from a stone. So you get your tribute, you keep your fekin' job, and everyone's happy. Deal?"
Ziggy watches Sierra leave, then her eyes flick back to you. "Best keep that one happy. I'll send Preen around for the barter tonight." If you let her, she'll take off.
Once everything's out I lay down on the floor, my back up against the cabinets. I can't stop shaking.
I don't even know if Reese is alive. I never checked on Tayt. I know these things are wrong, shameful, but I can't feel anything through the complete panic of - She's coming for me. What am I? I hate everything about me. If I cut out my ovaries will it stop? How can I make it stop. Who else will die because of me. She's coming for me.
Comments
Sierra,
What do you do?
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 2, 2. Total: 6)
All that said... Sierra has it right: we need folks to know you don't fek with The Irons...
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 4, 4. Total: 10)
The Feed is berserk. Top trending hashtag is #riggedDVFP, but the competition is fierce because nobody quite understands what they just saw, myself included. While Feed activity is high, the pressure of it is different from before. Curious.
I come back to myself, test my hands and glance around. Gonna have to walk through some blood to leave. I turn my body away from Ziggy and Sierra and get off the barstool with a grunt, take up my cane and work my way around to the door.
"Well." I lift up a hand in a lazy 'farewell', directed behind me. "JD, you can send a runner or not. For the bottles."
Poor Preen, I feel like I won't see him again.
Sierra and Esco,
June,
JD gives a nod, offering a jingle, then sends H along with you to take up the bottles. Once you've settled up with that, where are you headed?
Well, I'm leaving the beer here, but the help getting the rest of it back to my nook of the Irons is appreciated. I send H back on her way with a handful of basil for her trouble. The generosity might tip me off, I don't care. I move my relay to watch over my door.
I have a seat on my bed, light up another cig to help me forget the smell. My jacket gets shifted off, my hat set on top of it, my sleeves unbuttoned. I give my assortment of material possessions a long, hard look - what goes, what stays, who do I ask to move my kindlin', and where do I go? Probably Depot. Truk Stop'd be energetic, which is a draw and a repellent both.
I stare longest at my garden. Those humpin' roses took forever to find, I'm sure Cinch thinks I'm crazy for insistin' we look all through the old mountain spots and then carefully dig 'em up like they were babies. Fuggit, they all come with me. Momma's got you, babies.
I roll my sleeves up and start bundlin' things together carefully.
June,
Please go here.
Esco and Sierra,
Ziggy's radio sparks to life. It's Ik. "Zig, the raiders rabbitted. We've got the bus back. It's wrecked. We'll get the truck in."
Fracking Gloriana. Fracking DVFP. Bile rises cant stop it. I feel green and dizzy.
We need to come to terms with Ziggy. She's right, the next person who Gloriana sends might not be as friendly. But my head is spinning. I can't think straight.
Is she watching me right now?
"Make a deal with her Esco, she's right, the next one could be worse. I gotta..." I gesture to his room. I get up, quickly, my movements wobbly, but I make it to Esco's bathroom in time for all that expensive hootch to burn it's way back up my throat.
If you let her, she'll take off.
I don't even know if Reese is alive. I never checked on Tayt. I know these things are wrong, shameful, but I can't feel anything through the complete panic of - She's coming for me. What am I? I hate everything about me. If I cut out my ovaries will it stop? How can I make it stop. Who else will die because of me. She's coming for me.
It won't stop.
I shut my eyes and try to breathe.
Please go here.