[Snowpocalypse] Strange Bedfellows (S 1.2)

Rich

Silica,

You wake in a strange place. It smells like stale sweat and old, dried grease. You're on a thin twin-sized mattress with a few broken springs that poke your back. You need to pee. Your leg is throbbing, but it doesn't hurt nearly as badly as the last time you were awake.

The room echoes a bit, sounds bouncing off earth. It's chilly... wait no, it can't be, right? What's it like when you go a few days without any ice cubes, Silica?

When you open your eyes, you see that the room is about the size of a walk-in closet. There's the bed, plastic cabinet that is effectively a dresser, a bedpan, a stack of old magazines and an ancient TV and a little generator. The walls are all old, frozen dirt. There is an open passageway leading into another room just outside this one. Wonky isn't here.

What do you do?

scott

Silica

It only takes a moment to realize where I am, but seconds later I know that it's been too long. Days? Has it been? Could it have been? Without ice I'm not even myself... if it's been so long that I even feel cold. Suddenly the chills will overtake me, my body feels heavy, clammy like I've been sweating, nauseous for sure and fuck... so thirsty. But the glare... oh shit the glare in my eyes like headlights, it's coming. I need to find my shit before it hits me.

I get up on one elbow and the room spins, chills overtake me but I know there's no other relief. Am I in my jeans? Probably not... where are they? Oh hell I need to pee, but where's my things, my ice. Nothing else matters!

Rich

You're wearing some boxers, way too big, but clean. You struggle over to the plastic cabinet, and in there are your jeans. They've been washed at some point, but there are still dark red stains all down the leg. Your ice packets are in the drawer, along with some other junk from your pockets. What is it?

You weren't quiet, getting up. Groaning and grunting and all. You hear the sound of someone coming your way. See their shadow up on the wall opposite the room.

What do you do?

scott

Silica

I grab a handful of the little paper squares of ice and pop a couple of them in my mouth, working the familiar shapes down in between my gums and my cheek. Oh yes... I lean one hand against the the dresser and fight the chills and the growing nausea.

There's not much else in my pockets, my silencer, a folding utility knife I use to cut ice and tweeze and shit. Extra pair of panties, a spent lighter. Probably a couple of my rings and a chain and a little plastic case with needles and thread. I travel light, a few personal things gone with my jacket.

Suddenly I realize how much I hurt, my leg, but everywhere. From that fall, from being off the ice. "Shit..." I complain to myself.

Someone's coming. I don't have time to do anything, my hand reaches back for my pistol but of course it isn't there. I try to keep my shit together, turn to face whoever's coming, who will find me leaning against the plastic dresser looking a mess in some man's boxers.

"Who's there?"

Rich

"It's me," you hear Wonky say as he appears at the open passageway. He's wearing a pair of khaki pants with lots of pockets, big boots, no shirt. He has lots of ink and scars, lots.

"You should sit down or something, gonna rip those fucking stitches." He starts off angry, but then he's moving in, dropping to a knee so he doesn't crowd you or freak you out any more.

The ice is seeping in now, you're starting to feel warmer already.

Oh and by the way, you've got a yellow a-shirt on, too.

What do you do?

scott

Silica

Wonky, ok, it's him at least. Not like I can really trust the man but it seems like he kept his word. Are these his clothes? He changed me huh? Better than not I guess.

I relax slightly against the shelving, the ice starting to flow. I can feel it coursing through my veins, through my neck, into my chest. Yes...

"Your place..." I say to him as he kneels, pretty much eye to eye with him on his knee. It's obviously his place but I've got to say something. I'm still not myself quite, breathing shallow pained breaths as my drug spreads through me and my leg starts to scream at me to get off my feet.

He's huge, I owe him and I'm fucking defenseless in his place. I look at him and ask, "what happens now?"

Rich

Wonky snorts a laugh, looks around, "This shithole? Nah, this aint mine. I live with the Skegs." He drops down to both knees, getting eye level, "Dice wouldn't let me keep you around, so I didn't bother asking." He reaches into one of his pockets, pulls out some dried dates or something, offers it to you, "This is my cousin's place. A shithole, but free. He owes me."

He cocks his head when you ask what happens now. "Well, you're still kinda fucked up. I could take you to your sister's. Not sure where Rossi is right now..."

scott

Silica

Sure, sure I take the food. Might as well get in deeper. As he tells me about the place I grab my shirt and go to the bed. I set the dates and my ice packets down, and facing away from him, remove the yellow shirt over my head and start getting my own shirt back on.

I've just slithered into my shirt as he mentions my sister, "Rossi? No... no fuck no... she doesn't give two shits about me."

I grab my jeans, going to put them on right over the boxers. I take a breath through clenched teeth as my leg complains against the effort.

I stop, the jeans just up to where the injury is, kind of hanging around my knees, "did you see who shot me? You see his face? Was it Frontside, or one of Tweak's pack?"

Rich

He's watching you dress, you feel his eyes on you. "I bet your sister gives a couple shits, Silica." He says it like he's trying to encourage you, like he thinks you're just down on yourself. He doesn't get it, does he?

"One of Frontie's, pretty sure. Tweak's over on westside. I think Grab tagged you. They all bundle up on the roofs, but that fucker has those bluey goggles and shit, all reflector style." Wonky answers. You can sense it, he knows you're leaving, that this time is done. He seems really disappointed.

scott

Silica

This is going to hurt.

I turn to face him, dropping down to sit on the bed. My leg aches and I can't quite bring myself to pull my tight jeans up past that bandage.

For a good while I sit there, looking up at his face. He helped me earnestly, spent bullets protecting me, spent gas driving me to town and spent favors getting me this place to crash. My face softens a little.

Then I extend a hand towards him as if to pull him to me. I see the look on his face, what he must expect for all his trouble.

"Well... come on over here..." I manage a weak smile.

Rich

Wonky furrows his brow, like he's not sure what's up now. He duck walks closer, sort of hovering near you. He glances down at your leg, the stitches are uneven, but the wound is starting to heal. "Why are you putting on those jeans, Silica? I'm not kicking you out..."

scott

I know that.

I can't help stifling a laugh by nibbling on my lip.

"Help me get 'em back off then, will ya?" I pull on his hand to get him to kneel again and help with my jeans, then I lean forward a little and touch his hair and a around the side of his face with my hand.

Rich

He swallows, nodding softly. He reaches for the cuff of your jeans and gently tries to slide them down, over your ankles. He freezes when you touch his face, closes his eyes, obviously savoring the moment.

Of course, the ice is running through your veins now, Silica. How good do you feel now?

In game terms, you're at 6 o'clock, in case you're curious.

What do you do?

scott

I don't feel great, but the biggest problem is the pain... and oh man, I need to pee and I'm still feeling kind of nauseous.

I hold there on his face for a few seconds, feeling him stop and press against me. I don't want to take the moment away from him too fast... but...

I lean forward, touching my forehead to his hair, "hey uh... is there a bathroom here? I need a second..." it's ridiculous, but I can't wait any more.

Rich

He jerks back, "Oh... yeah. Sure." He stands, pulling you up into his arms. It hurts, but probably better than walking, right? He carries you out of the room and down a corridor of earth to an honest-to-goodness port-a-potty. Like someone drug one down here, dug out an alcove, and just put it there. He sets you down so you can do your business, which I assume you do.

Summary - the hole for using the bathroom is deep and cold air comes up, not that you care. There is a big plastic bag filled with rolls of cheap toilet paper.

So, you're in here, in private. Done for now, still hurtng a bit. He's probably right outside.

What do you do?

scott

Not exactly luxurious, but it'll do.

I sit and relieve myself, leaning my face in my hands, elbown on knees. I feel my breath on my palms, it's cool again. Good. My stomach is turning a little bit but I think the worst is past. I wipe at my eyes, wet my lips with saliva and finish my piss, taking a minute or so to clean up. He's right outside, isn't he?

When I'm ready I push the door open, "ok," I say simply, reaching for him to let him pick me up again.

Rich

He steps in, picks you up, carries you back to the bed, lays you down on the funky springs, then sits on the edge of the bed, beside you. He's still close, expectant. But more like hopeful than demanding, even though, you know, he could demand. Maybe he doesn't realize he could?

Or maybe that tag is doing something?

What do you do?

scott

I lay there a second, almost amused at this guy's timidness. Is he a virgin? No fucking way... that's just not possible.

Instead of pulling him down towards me, instead I pull myself up to his shoulder and say quietly in his ear, "you saved me..." I don't say thank you very often, and that's about as close as I can get.

I lean around him and undo his pants, I don't think my body can handle sex right now, not with a guy this huge. But I'm going to make him feel good, I owe him that much. I sort of drap myself over his leg on my stomach so I can get to him with my hands and mouth. Wonky can watch, feel my ass or whatever (in his boxers). But he's not getting between my legs today.

Rich

Wonky doesn't fight your advance. He hesitates once, early on, when you wince, but then, he's like "fuck it" and lays back and lets you show your appreciation. He murmurs encouragement, touches your hair, and yeah, your ass, tells you how hot you are. Does that bother you? It sounds, well, genuine?

Go ahead and fire your Sex Move, too.

scott

Doesn't bother me... surprises me maybe. Mostly people don't use very nice words with me, sex or not.

So yeah, repayment, favor, whatever you want to call it. I don't have a lot of energy right now so I'm pretty gentle with him... do it right. But my skin is cool to the touch, even now. I wonder if he's touched me while I was sleeping.

But touching his skin, so much, I feel him hovering over me, feel his breath rustle my hair, his hands wander over my ass and my back. He's being so soft with me, even his sex talk is surprising. None of the angry, hateful things I have to hear most of the time.

I've tagged him with my blood, and it's been long enough now that it's in him, imperceptible to anyone but me, but I can feel it in there.

scott

Sex move on Wonky:
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 5, 5. Total: 12)

Rich

• for what does your character crave forgiveness, and of whom?
When Wonky was a kid, his father beat him. Wonky worked hard to get tougher, to be able to withstand his father's verbal and physical onslaughts. Then, one day, when he was fourteen, he beat his father to death. In front of his mother.

He wants his father to forgive him for murdering him. He wants his mother to forgive him for taking away her only source of income at the time.

• what are your character’s secret pains?
Wonky's secret pains are that he doesn't feel like he fits in anywhere. He's part of this badass snowmobile gang, but he doesn't flash up his ride, he just rides. He beats people down for the gang, but they don't really talk to him about anything. Nothing that matters, really.

Also, Wonky hates that he answers with violence. He can't help it, it is his reflex reaction. He has to take a minute to cool off to keep from doing it, and well, most of the people he hangs around don't give him that.

The last two answers come to you at a time of your choosing, preferably when you're intimate again, no roll.

scott

Wonky's finished, exhausted for the moment. I end up resting with my head on his thigh as he lays across the bed and against the wall with his hand on the narrow part of my waist. My hand slowly traces up and back down the big muscle of his upper leg. Wonky's always been the biggest and he's let it define how people see him...

I guess that happens.

Some time passes while he recovers his composure. I know not to talk to a guy for a while after. And Wonky needs some time to wind down. Once I feel him stir, I finally speak, "hey... you been down here with me a good while... are you ok with the Skegs? Don't fuck up your gig for me... I aint' worth it."

Rich

Even after, he doesn't stop touching you. Nothing like groping, just a hand on you, in a half-affectionate, half-possessive way.

"I'm sure Dice is super-fuckin-pissed, but I aint his bitch or nothin," he answers with a huff. "And you were worth it. I mean shit, that was good, yeah?"

Then, "Well, for me, it was... you know. Well fuck, it was was worth it, so don't even say that shit no more."

scott

I roll over onto my back so I can see him, hissing in pain when I forget for a second and twist my leg the wrong way, but I end up with my head leaning up against his thigh and a foot on the frame of the bed.

I reach up and touch his cheek, "you're a... you're allright Wonky," I begin. I open my mouth to say more but falter, not sure if I should say what's on my mind. But i can see him looking back and he must wonder, "you said this's your cousin's place? You got family... you're lucky... you don't talk to your momma no more?"

Rich

He gives you a lopsided smile, like he's not used to those muscles. But wow, his eyes dance for a second when you touch his cheek.

You ask about his mom and he shrugs, "Sometimes... when I give her some jingle and shit." He tilts his head, peers down at you. "Do you know her?"

scott

I close my eyes for a second and shake my head slightly, "I don't know anybody," I shrug and just look up at him, "you saw what it's like... at the doc's. I'm nobody... it just seemed..." I smile a little ironic smile, my teeth showing for a second before I catch myself and close my lips.

I don't like to show my teeth.

"Fuck it, none of my business... I should get out of your way."

I start to sit up. I should really get out of here before I get used to him.

Rich

"Sit the fuck down," Wonky says as he puts a hand on your shoulder. "This aint right. Your leg is fucked up still. You can't even walk yet, but you wanna go? What the fuck?"

He jabs a finger in your face, "Stop it with that I'm nobody shit. Right now. You... you're fucking insulting me, you know?" He huffs a couple breaths, "I give my cousin shit for all the stuff I done for him just so's I can stay here with you, and I change your fucking clothes and snagged another bed when you pissed the first, and I waited on you for days to wake up... am I that fucking stupid? I do all that shit for a nobody? Get the fuck outta here with that shit!"

Then, he just huffs a few breaths, he realizes he's fuming and so he shuts up. Looks away. Mutters, "You fuckin know me."

scott

I start to get up and he just pushes me back down against the wall near the bed. My first reaction is to lash out, and I sort of swipe at him, but in my state... even on a good day I doubt I could stop him.

I try to rise again as he shouts 'what the fuck' feeling ready for him to get physical, to toss me down like a fuckin' piece of meat...

But he's gentle with me, he doesn't touch me again... though his words are sharp.

I open my mouth to interrupt a couple times, tell him the way things are... but he just overpowers me with his intensity and by the time he's finished talking I'm totally silenced, sitting there against his wall, face in my hands.

He huffs a few deep breaths and it's silence.

Finally I have to say something, "ok... ok I ain't going away... alright? You fuckin' did all that for me. You... changed the... ok. Wonky ok, I'm not used to people stickin' their neck out for me, you know? I thought..."

He even washed my bloody clothes, cleaned up my shit and my piss...

I look at him again... his veins sticking out like this when he's intense.

"I don't know what I thought... nobody ever did this kinda shit for me before."

I sink down into the bed a bit. I give up... I'm sticking around 'till I'm better. He can tell.

Rich

He looks at you when you sink down, and maybe he gets it. But he's worked up now, so the best thing he can do is take a walk. Which he does.

Sleep would be great right now.

--END SCENE--