[Junk XIII] Early Morning Visitor (P 7-2)

edited December 2013 in Junkworld XIII

Its way the hell early in the morning. Pre-coffee early. The whatever-the-hell-it-was with the lights and the huge fight in The Bay ruined your sleep. Well, that and Tulle wanted some loving, and hey, who are you to refuse to comfort the poor girl?

The showers were off when you two finished up. Sinks, too. Whole level, even Chef's. No water. Nobody knows why.

Someone is knocking on your door, insistently.

What do you do?


  • I drag my ass to the door. "Who is it?" I say in a very cranky tone. I should be frakking asleep right now.
  • There's a pause, like the person on the other side hears the tone. Then, "Its Janco."
  • Oh. "Oh, Janco. Come in." I tell her.

    As soon as she comes in, I hug her. Not a sexy hug. A 'I'm glad you're alive' hug.
  • Tulle, who is nude and slightly covered, turns over in the bed to look at the door. Janco ignores it and hugs you. Its a long hug, like she doesn't want to let go. She stays in the doorway. She looks a little shaken, circles under her eyes, hair askew. "I'm sorry to barge in. I just... I didn't want to be in the infirmary right now. And, I don't really go anywhere else..."

    Then she looks over at Tulle. Back to you, "Can... can we go talk? Please?" She almost says "I'll pay", you just know it. But she doesn't.
  • I look back at Tulle, not asking her permission, per say- frak these feelings! But yeah, I just don't want to leave her if she's not ok. Yeah. That's it.

    "Yeah." I say, assuming Tulle doesn't give me a look. I lead us to the blue room and sit down on the bed.
  • Tulle doesn't give you a look. Janco follows you to the blue room. She hovers near the door when you enter and head to the bed, like she's unsure. She watches you sit down, and looks at you for a long moment.

    She marches up to you, and reaches down to take your right hand, putting it on her chest, looking down at you. Her eyes are the kind of hard you know is a wall. She leans down and kisses you, sudden and fierce, pushing her tongue in your mouth, running her fingers through your hair.

    What do you do?
  • Frak- I was not expecting that. I hesitate for a moment, but return her passion for a minute. Then I pull back a little. "Hey. Hey, you ok?" I ask her.
  • "No, I'm not." She says it, then stats kissing your neck, her hands on your chest, "I don't want to talk about it. Just... just frak me. I just want it." She steps back, and quickly begins pulling off her shirt, stripping down as quickly as she's able.

    What do you do?
  • That makes me pause. What the frak is wrong with me? Pretty girls says frak me, you frakking frak her! But I know something she doesn't. Frakking doesn't make the pain go away.

    I slow her down a bit. "It won't fix anything." I tell her. "You think you want it, but when we're done you'll still have that hole in your heart."

    Not that it stopped me. I tried to frak it away. Tried to drink it away. Tried getting high, moving to a different place. Nothing. That's why I keep everybody at arms' length. It's safer that way.
  • She stops moving, her face in a kind of shock like you'd slapped her. She blinks quickly for a few heartbeats. Swallows hard. With a voice that cracks with emotion, she says, "I don't.... I don't want to talk about it." She blinks a few more times, standing there, topless, her slacks halfway down to her ankles where you'd stopped her. "I just want..." She closes her eyes, unable to finish the thing she'd rehearsed in her head, so she wouldn't need to talk with you.

    Janco bends at the waist to start pulling her slacks back up, to fasten them, looking around for her top. She wasn't wearing a bra, she rarely bothers with it.

    What do you do?
  • "What? What do you want?" I ask her. "If it's me, specifically, I'll frak you on this bed right now. But if it's just to get away from something..." I let the sentence die.

    I stand up and press my open palms to her sides, looking her in the eyes- waiting for my answer.
  • edited December 2013
    She looks in your eyes, too. Hers are watery. She finds some strength in the comfort you're offering. It isn't enough, but it helps. "What if its both? Will you frak me then?"
  • Frakking frakky frak. When did it get so complicated? Why does it matter to me why she wants it?

    I nod. It won't be the frenzied coupling she'd imagined, but I'll still frak her. Slower, gentler. A little like she's so fragile she might break. Well, that's how it'll start out anyway.
  • That may be how you start out, but she wants some frenzy. At a point early on, while she's lying on her back, she starts trying to urge you to frak her harder, to just do it, to frak the hell out of her. She doesn't want to be kissed, or held, or be precious.

    As you comply, because that's your nature, right? You give them what they want. She takes your right hand, kissing the palm, licking it for a moment, then she puts it around her throat, trying to curl the fingers around her neck.

    What do you do?
  • No. I absolutely will not choke her. I slide my hand to the side, onto the bed. It's not that I won't do it- have done plenty of times- but not now. Not like this.

    Something hardens in my brain. Or maybe my heart. Who the frak cares. I'm pissed- who the frak is this bitch to use me? She's not even paying! Maybe I don't want to see her dead, but I certainly don't love her. I raise myself up a bit and pin her shoulders in my hands. I move with anger, frustration. She gets every pent up drop of irritation and annoyance I've been holding onto for the past few months. I frakking give it to her.
  • She doesn't ask for it a second time. She lays there and takes the thudding, pounding sex that you give to her. At first, there's a gasp of surprise at your sudden ferocity, then she falls into your rhythm, accepting all the force you have to give, hoping it would break her in half.

    Janco turns her head to the side, not making eye contact with you. You realize she's staring at the wall, just watching the monotony of it, not out of some sense of boredom, the grunts and whimpers of need and the way she's bent her legs to pull at your ass with her ankles is enough to tell you she is enjoying the sex, at least on a physical level. But her mind is a world away, driven to numbness, exactly like she craved.

    Even when you're angry and frustrated, you end up giving women what they want, Proper.

    Afterwards, when you've finally sated you ire and finished, Janco mumbles a quiet, out of breath, "Thank you." She rolls to her side, still nude on the bed, her legs folding in on herself slightly.

    What do you do?
  • I know the steps to this dance all too well. I start putting my clothes on- I'd love a shower, but those are right out I guess. I don't look at her.

    Well, at least she got what she came for.

    I go to leave, back to my room.
  • She doesn't stop you, so you head out then, back to your room.

    Tulle is up. "Hey," she says when you come in. "Playing doctor?" she asks with a grin. She's got some handi-wipes, she's busy cleaning herself.
  • "Heh. Something like that." I tell her. "Got any of those you can spare?" I ask.

    That's... new. I don't ask my crew to share drek with me. I have my own stuff. And if I need something my crew has, I take it. Sometimes I tell them in advance, sometimes I'm an asshole about it. But I don't ask.
  • She smirks, "Got to wipe the doctor off ya?" then snickers and pulls a few out of her little glad baggie to hand to you.

    As you're cleaning, she says, "I heard from Velour that some raider gang blew up our air and water filters. This place has no water anymore. And I heard the Candies beheaded like ten raiders on the deck of The Bay to show everyone what happens when you mess with this place. It's pretty crazy, us locked up in here with all these folks, right, Proper?"
  • "Frak yes." I answer her question. The next time Janco wants something, she's gonna have to pay like everyone else. What the frak was I thinking, giving it away? I'm gonna develop a reputation...

    "Yeah. Crazy, messed up. It's gonna frak business up right proper." I tell her. "Folk aren't going to want to spend precious jingle on anything other than water." I sigh. Normally I have better luck than this- of course, the current regime of the Ascendant is so new... there aren't really new places around. I've spent so much time moving between established towns, I didn't have to worry about coups and whatnot. I mean, sure, they happened, but people still need to get laid, regardless of who's in charge.
  • Tulle asks, "What do we do? Lock ourselves up and wait it out? Or pack up and move on?" She doesn't seem excited about either prospect, really.
  • "I don't know." I answer honestly. It's a guess either way. Maybe this is some gods way of telling me to get out of the business. "I don't even know where we'd move to. Trench? All the way down to Boomtown? Wal-Mart or Oasis?" Oasis wasn't a bad thought- it'd be expensive to get the whole crew there, but might be worth it.

    Then again, if the council can get a lid on this filtration system issue fast enough then business could be back up and running soon, and we'd lose out on jingle by leaving.
  • "Well,, wherever you want to go, or do, we will ride it out." Tulle says.

    After you're done cleaning, she asks, "Wanna do a show tonight?"
  • I rub the whiskers on my jaw and sigh. "Yeah." I say to both. "You want to organize the crew? Whatever you guys want to do is fine by me. I'm gonna go check on Satin." I say, finishing up with the wipes.

    I have no intention of checking on Satin. I just don't feel like putting a show together, even though I know I should. What the frak is happening to me? How the hell am I gonna make jingle if I can't do my job? I want to find Trojan, get high and stop caring about all this drek. Then I'll be fine.
  • Tulle's eyes flash a bit, "Me? Hell yeah, Proper," she says, and moves over to kiss you cheek. Not, sexy, just sweet. It's obvious she's excited by the chance to make up for the last show she put together. What happened at that show, was that her fault?

    You can find Trojan if you want, Proper. He worked out of The Bay until he was able to set himself up with one of the girls in Nezzy's gang. Her name's Brita. You want to head over to her flat, looking for Trojan?
  • The last time Tulle put a show together, she put the acts in the wrong order and Chiffon nearly broke an ankle slipping on the floor after Velour's act with water. I should have caught it beforehand, but I missed it. Chiffon sprained his ankle and couldn't do the show for a couple of weeks.

    Yeah, I'll head for Brita's flat.
  • Brita's flat is on the same deck as The Bay. Heading down there alone, Proper?

    You head through the carnage of The Bay, people still mopping up, moving things around, pushing bodies off the edge to fall the six decks to the scrub, and generally trying to make it look like it used to look. All under the watchful eye of Buckingham. The predator in you tells you that he may very well have taken some extra shots at folks during the troubles to make sure he stayed on top here. How do you know this guy? Former customer? Former trouble?

    You head down the hall through the gang's territory, du's folks all room together in tight spaces. Near the end of the hall in a double bunk is Brita and Trojan.

    They're both hunkered down over a table, carefully separating a sheet of blue "glass" into small, sellable baggies.

    Brita looks up, "Yeah? You're Proper, right? What you want?"

    Trojan looks at you, asking, "Silk want some more? She just re-upped yesterday."
  • Yeah, I head down there alone. Buckingham is former customer and former trouble. He got rough with one of mine- Satin got a few cuts in, but he beat her up bad.

    "Hey," I say, more to Trojan than Brita. "Nah, for me." I tell him. It's not the first time, but it is rare that I ask for myself. Desperate times, eh?
  • Trojan doesn't judge. "Sure, I got a dime bag with your name on it, bro." It isn't a full barter for it. But if you get hooked in, the cost can add up.

    Brita asks, "You getting glassy here? Not much room, but we can give you a chair."
  • I nod my thanks. "Yeah, thanks." I tell both of them and sit down and wait for that high that's gonna take all my cares away.
  • How long are you out for?

    What do you see in your drug-fueled visions, Proper?

    Who comes to check on you?
  • I'm out an hour or two- I'm pretty smart about glass- I don't use it often and I keep to small doses. I've seen too many folk burn out on it.

    I saw myself- as a council member. Business was booming and nobody called me a pimp anymore. I had respect. And more jingle than I knew what to do with. It was everything I ever dreamed about. And yet... Tulle wasn't there. I was sad about that. Was she dead? Or just gone? I can't remember...

    Velvet comes to get me.
  • Velvet isn't the least bit perturbed at your state. You've seen him drunk and/or high a few times, too, right?

    He helps you up, "Thank you, two. I appreiate your services."

    Trojan replies, "Oh, it was no trouble. Proper's funny as hell when he's wasted!"

    Brita says, "See ya, Hot Stuff!"

    You walk out with Velvet, past du's gangers, who ignore you. It's a smelly place, their sets of quarters, like some dormintory of teenage boys more than an organized fighting force. But they do have guns, so that counts for something.

    "Tulle's setting up the show, should be a doozy," Velvet says, looking over at you as he says it, watching your reaction. "Good call giving her another chance."
  • I giggle a bit when Trojan says I'm funny. Hah. I am funny. I give Brita a wave and a smirk and blow her a kiss.

    "Mmhmm." I mumble to Velvet. I have seen him drunk or high a couple times- though it seems to be rare for him. We all have bad days, yeah? Or good ones. Yeah.

    "Whatcha been up to, man?" I ask him. It feels like it's been forever since I've seen him. I wonder what he's dug up about the explosions.
  • He makes polite conversation until you clear The Bay. As you take the lift up, he says, "A Water Cult sent a small team of six here to destroy our water supply. One is being held prisoner in the brig, the others were executed. They used several bombs that were well made. They had to have purchased them, either from a merchant in The Bay or the little shanty town outside, or from someone inside the Ascendant. Plus, they got through security. There's normally someone standing watch on that deck, but that night, nobody. And it was Nezzy's people, not the Candies, who kept watch."

    Velvet raises his brows to see what you think. Then, he adds, "Can't confirm who yet, but I hear someone on Council is a plant from Trench." He smirks now, pleased with himself.

    "Oh," he says suddenly, as if he just remembered it, which you know he didn't, "Sapphire the assassin is on board. I'm rather sure I can find her."
  • "Interesting." I reply to his information. "Sapphire? Remind me of the history between you two?" I ask, party because I really can't remember but also to deflect the conversation back to him.

    Very interesting. If someone on the council is a plant from Trench, that means Spanx is trying to get her claws into the action here. I have a deep, personal dislike of the woman- lets say she and I have history- and if I could ruin her plans while also helping my own business it's be a great day for me.

    "Anyone stick out to you?" I ask him. "There's Kiddo and that other doctor, but I don't like either of them for it. It's probably not going to be Nezzy herself." I muse.
  • Velvet shrugs, "Not much history with Sapphire, hired her a few times when we had troublesome customers. Little girl, trained by one of the best. Has some serious mommy issues. Might be a good addition to the crew in say six years or so."

    You reach your level, and start heading out. Velvet pulls you towards his room, which is currently empty, "Tulle has them all practicing. I went to find you." He heads over to the small fridge he has, pulls out a bottled water, hands it to you, "Hublot is a sore thumb, some art nut that Nezzy favors. Bacardi's a maybe, he seems for sale to the highest bidder. Chufi would be the one I'd choose, though. Access to everything. Trash is all around, you know."
  • "Hmm." I say, not really having much to add. I haven't had many dealings with council members. If Spanx has a plant on the council, that puts me in a tight spot- I'd like to stay and ruin her plans, but it might be better just leave and let the place fall. It's only a matter of time, anyway.

    "Thanks." I say, gulping at the water.
  • Velvet narrows his eyes, like he's noticing something's different. "Are you alright, Proper?" He offers, "Water issues putting a dampener on business got you down? Or is it something else?"
  • Frakking hell- is it that obvious? I frown. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just not sure comin' here was the right call. I always make the right call... but this time..." My voice trails off.
  • Velvet walks over to lean against the small table in the room, and takes a sip of his water. "It was the right call based on the info at hand. Might still work out. You already have some hooks in three members of this place's Council. The jingle we've been getting is steady and improving. Right now though... it's rough."

    He thinks for a moment, then adds, "If you want to cut and run, we can."
  • The problem with cutting and running is that the thing that's really bothering me is going to come along for the ride.

    "We'll see. Give 'em a week or two, see how it feels." I normally have a good feel for situations. I know when to hold and when to hit- when to sit back and let everybody stew.

    Screw this drek. I'm gonna be that frakking guy again. King of the castle. "We'll do the show- show 'em we're not gonna be stopped by bombs or nothing." I feel a little better after I say it. More confident.
  • Velvet gives you a sly grin, "Good. Listen... I wanted you to know I've taken the liberty of setting up a conversation with Sapphire. If you are willing to slide a couple jingle, she can make Philips disappear for you." He nods slowly, like this is a good idea, he just needs your a-okay for it.

    What do you do?
  • Well that puts me in a tough spot. I wouldn't mind at all if the man died, but he's paying good jingle to spend time with Tulle. I rub the back of my neck.

    "I don't have a couple jingle to spare right now, and I certainly can't afford to chip away at my customer base before the water comes back on. I appreciate it, man, but I don't think it's the right time." And there it is- the thing I used to be proud of, but not so much anymore- I'll do just about anything for jingle.
  • Velvet smiles, like you just passed a little test. He approves, not that you desire that or anything. "Proper, you should get up top, check out the Garden. Relax, you know? Tulle's working hard on the show. I should be heading over to practice anyways."

    He looks at you, cocks his head, asks, "You need anything?"
  • "Nah, I'm good. Thanks." I answer him.

    Maybe I will go up to the garden. I don't have much else to do right now. If I hover around Tulle too much it may make her nervous... or annoyed. "Yeah, maybe I will." I say, more to myself than him.
  • Velvet heads off to rehearsal, and you take the lift up to the roof. Well, actually, the lift takes you to the main floor, and you have to walk around and p some stairs to get outside, but there it is. The place is verdant and colorful. There are workers all around here, most don't look like gardeners, though. Beneful is coordinating an effort to put up as many rain-catchers as possible, anything to get more water. For the people, of course. Not his plants! Well, not just his plants.

    There are benches and a small footpath here. It's crowded by wines and the like, but still, its nice. A little romantic. As you're walking around, you spot a girl sitting on the edge, the very edge, legs hanging off the side. She's scribbling into a journal with some charcoal pencil, doodles and words, all in wild patterns, like animated poetry or art with captions, hard to say, really. Her head is shaven, her fingers are stained with charcoal, paint flecks under her stubby nails, but she's beautiful.

    Here she is:

    Might be an interesting enough distraction, right?

    What do you do?
  • Very interesting distraction, indeed. I walk past her and find a spot further down. I hang my legs over the edge of the ship- the view is bloody fantastic.
  • "What do you see?" she asks without looking at you while asking, still scribbling in her tattered journal. She's drawing the sunset in reverse, and writing a rainfall of words from the dirt to the charcoal sky.
  • I see some lovely tattoos, I think to myself. I'd like to see the hidden ones.

    "I see a mostly barren, mostly miserable rock," I start. "But I can't really complain what with such a lovely garden around us."
  • "Laugh and the world laughs with you," she replies enigmatically. She sounds, not disinterested, just that she's distracted. She continues scribbling for a bit longer, then sees that you haven't left.

    The girl puts her charcoal down on the dirt, closes her journal and turns to you, "I'm Faille," she pronounces it like "file". "You've never been up here, have you? I can tell from your eyes, and the way you hold your shoulders."
  • "Proper." I respond. "Nah, first time." I wonder what she means by 'the way you hold your shoulders'?

    I stare out at the landscape.
  • She seems interested in you, now. "What brought you here?"
  • "Curiosity, mainly. Had some time on my hands." I answer truthfully. "What about you? I've never seen you around before."
  • She gives you a look of a conspirator, and leans nearer, "I snuck in. I had to see this view. I haven't left since, except when the old man shuts down for the night."
  • I take the opportunity to lean in closer and smile at that. "Where do you go then?" I ask her.

    I put a hand on the ground next to hers- barely touching her.
  • Faille arches a brow, "Want me to reveal all my secrets?" She gives you a half-smile. "What about you? What keeps you here?"
  • I laugh. "Fair enough." I can certainly understand a girl wanting to keep some mystery about her. I sigh and stare off at the distance for a moment. What does keep me here? The easy answer is business, though it's becoming less compelling lately. "It's where all my stuff is." I answer jokingly. Hey, I can keep my own mystery, too.
  • That gets a laugh out of her. "Stuff'll be the death of us all." She hasn't moved her hand away from yours until just now. She pulls her left leg up, opens her journal flat on it, picks up her charcoal and brings it up.

    "Can I sketch you?" she asks suddenly. "It'll look drek, but it helps me remember moments... and people."
  • I consider flirting- asking what she'll do for me if I let her sketch me, but I don't think that's the right move. "Yeah." I reply simply, not moving to pose.
  • It takes only a few moments. She has quick little hands, and she captures the strong lines of your profile, the horizon behind you, even a few of the plants in your background. It's abstract, not perfectly realistic, when she flips the journal over to show you.

    She wrote some words around the edges, Proper. Two that sit at the core of who you are, and two that are threats that bring you down. What are they?
  • Lucky, phoenix, restless & facade

    I stare at the paper- surprised she's seen through me so easily. I keep my face neutral, though I'm sure she knows she's seen the core of me.

    "Nice." I tell her, suddenly uncomfortable.
  • She looks at you for a moment, the compliment struck true. She closes the journal, sliding it into a small satchel. When she opens the flap, you spy inside is a small makeup kit, some clothing, a little radio and a butterfly knife.

    Faille closes the flap, then looks at you, looking at her. She quirks a brow, "What do you do? For jingle, I mean."
  • I level a smoldering look at her. "What don't I do?" One of my eyebrows quirks up. "I run the show out of Chef's." I elaborate. "What about you?" I ask casually- not trying to pry, just curious.
  • "I've heard about your show!" Faille says with surprise. "I've heard its a good show, lots of pretty people. All for the rich and depraved." She grins a bit, her tone playful.

    "What do I do?" she repeats. "I used to dye things, but when The Bay blew up, I lost all my stuff." She looks around, then leans in to say quietly, "Now, I just float."
  • "What do you want to do?" I ask her. "If you could. If the opportunity was there."
  • "I love to make art," Faille says reflexively. Then she admits, "But most days, I dream of something stable enough where I could just do art for fun. You know? Like doing it for jingle cheapens the experience, and when someone is standing there and doesn't buy my poems and pictures, or they up and tell me WHY they don't like it, it tears at my soul a little." She quirks a frown, "Does that make sense?"
  • "Yeah." I reply. I can't draw, but I know the feeling of cheapness you get from taking money for things.

    This girl could be in my show- she's beautiful. If she's halfway decent at frakking I could make a big pile of jingle with her... Still- I don't know her, don't know if there's anyone around who'd be jealous, maybe want to take it out on me.

    I stand up. "Well, see you around. Come by the show if you like. I will hook you up." I don't define with what. I don't want to press her too hard, but I also can't turn my back to an opportunity. I turn and take a step to leave.
  • "You want it?" she says suddenly. You glance back to see her demonstrate ripping the page from her journal. You can't tell if she wants you to have the drawing of you or not, from her tone.
  • "Nah, you keep it. Draw me one of you and I'll take it- I see my face all the time."

    I give her a grin.
  • She nods. "Flash, Proper. I will."

    She turns back to the horizon, letting you go on. Where do you go?
  • I go back to my room. I think the crew is practicing and I just want to be alone for a bit.
  • --END SCENE--
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