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[Snowpocalypse] North Underlake mines (H 2.2)
Hadden:
You head to the devastation that was once the North Underlake mines. You find the one tunnel that's still open. It's new. Underlake folk carved it to get into the mines and look for survivors.
You're used to climbing up these kinds of ropes, so you take it up into the mines, right?
You have to see.
After maybe forty feet, you come into an open space, looks like this:
There are markers here, Hadden. To anyone else in Chi-Town, it'd just be pitons in the ice. But you know. You know it's markers for those lost in the ice. Miners carry them, along with a Sharpie. When they lose someone, they mark the last spot, write the name, say a prayer or write a poem, then move on.
Forty-two pitons are in the ice here, Hadden.
You head to the devastation that was once the North Underlake mines. You find the one tunnel that's still open. It's new. Underlake folk carved it to get into the mines and look for survivors.
You're used to climbing up these kinds of ropes, so you take it up into the mines, right?
You have to see.
After maybe forty feet, you come into an open space, looks like this:
There are markers here, Hadden. To anyone else in Chi-Town, it'd just be pitons in the ice. But you know. You know it's markers for those lost in the ice. Miners carry them, along with a Sharpie. When they lose someone, they mark the last spot, write the name, say a prayer or write a poem, then move on.
Forty-two pitons are in the ice here, Hadden.
Comments
The climb's good. I'm glad for my supper. Plenty of times I've climbed more after eating less. When I get to the open space... The echoes in here are weirdly muted. The silence is like holding its breath. The markers, I've never seen so many at once, the markers. I pull myself fully out of the tunnel and blink.
I step forward. Swallow. Breathe. I start reading names.
Am I alone here?
You're alone. It's a tomb and you're the only visitor. There are burnt candles in here, the place smells like the wax more than anything. A small doll was left by one. What's the doll, Hadden?
I light the half a candle I brought, and fix it in place.
It's one of those wire-and-rag dolls some people make for their kids. Lashfight had one with a beercan head called Dixie. This one's head is a carved bit of rubber from an old shoe. I don't recognize the name on that marker, but I think a few thoughts for the kid and the parents.
I don't know who I'm looking for, but I want to read every name and spend a couple moments.
Some of the names you recognize on the pitons:
Kettle, who in her teens lost three fingers to frostbite, but kept mining so her father could eat. Her father broke his back mining, literally.
Mill, the old man who ate hot sauce on everything. His damn teeth were tinted red from it.
Shan, the once beautiful girl who was set up in an arranged marriage, but slept with her soon-to-be brother-in-law. Her father beat her mercilessly, broke her cheek, ruined her eye, and sent her packing.
Newton, who took bets to eat ice. He could eat mouthfuls of it, they said he was a living furnace.
I worked with Kettle's dad a few shifts. Mill wrote me a few recipes down. Shan always had a story and a knife. Newton was a total fucking wacknut, I mean, that dude.
A few words come to me, unbidden. I think I know enough of hate / To say that for destruction ice / Is also great /And would suffice.
Some time later, my candle starts to gutter, it's going to run out real soon. I keep with tradition and get ready to leave before the flame goes away.
Speaking of flames, Tindy might be a real nice spirit-lifting distraction right 'bout now.
You're alone in this tomb, with the markers of your people. Lost to a tragedy. The time creeps, and your candle starts to hiss and spit as the wick burns down into the candle and the wax spills over the sides.
And yet still, you are alone. Alone with the dead. The names who are attached to your man, attached, however indirectly, to you.
How long did you stay before you left, Hadden?
Where do you go now?
It's probably a hour or two I'm in memorial. Alone with the dead and my thoughts. Molotov would be a dangerous enemy. He's gotta know Underlake wants his blood served cold. And he's gotta realize my connections. But I can't be false to my man, 'specially can't be false to these forty-two souls.
It's been good to be silent, to be alone alone, to have room and time and light to think. My mood is set and the hour is late. Needs must I sleep before driving across the lake to Chi-town at first light. There's been time that drive's been made with more coffee and coke than fuel. But not this night.
I'll make my way to my bunk by Squirrel's.
Squirrel is sawing logs by the time you turn in. Sleep comes uneasily tonight, doesn't it? All the stress of what to do, how to do it.
You get a few hours before you are woken by someone joining you in bed, Hadden. Someone light and smooth.
"I waited and waited and gave up on you." Tindy says as she slips under the covers. She's warm, much warmed than you were moments ago. She must've worn several layers. Which she's stripped off now.
Squirrel is in a bunk on the other side of the room, still snoring.
What do you do?
Mmmm, that Tindy. A whisper: "Don't protest so much. The waiting makes it more delicious." Her warmth is good under my hands. "How long do I have you for before he notices?" She's really warm.
I pull my hands back just a little, teasing, promising. "What's he really up to this time?"
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 4, 6. Total: 12)
"Long enough for fun, but never long enough," Tindy replies as she pushes her hands forward onto your sides and tries to worm her way into your embrace.
When you play coy, she pouts, and between Squirrel's snores, she whispers, "He's sorely pissed at you, and thinks pushing on the Molotov angle will get your mom on his side." In the dim light of a single digital clock, you see her eyes shining.
"I think he was involved with that blast, Haddy. He seemed to know more about the 'splosives than anyone, right afters. An' he uses them, too. Almost as much as Squirrel." She's sliding a leg up and over your hip, edging herself closer, like she's sneaking up on you.
"Waidaminit. He blew up the whole of the north mines and killed forty-two people and who knows how many others went hongry as a... fucking play against me?" I remember how he talked at dinner about making lemonade, whatever the fuck that is, excited about some new find under the north mines. I grab her wrists, pull her back, nip at her neck, never leaving marks. I'm breathing slow, deep, finding the anger again. Careful with my fingernails.
She moans low in her throat when you nip at her, "I don't... oh God. I don't know for sure, but maybe. It just reads off. Be careful... oh, please go lower."
I start to obey, then quick flip her around, pin her down. Squirrel's still snoring.
Talking into her flesh: "Are you using me, Tindy?" I'm kissing all over her, softness and warmth. "You like it when I use you. " And I prove it.
Maybe Molotov isn't responsible the way he thinks... maybe there's a witness.
Tindy giggles into the pillow and writhes in pleasure as you kiss and tease her. She's quickly beyond conversation.
Go ahead and fire that Sex Move.
How do you feel about Tindy, Hadden?
If afterwards, you want to chat some more, go ahead. Otherwise, she'll be sneaking back to him (sadly).
Mmm, that Tindy.
She's simple and not at the same time. She's a total dextrous freak in the sheets with me, and we dance well together. Like, on the floor. Like, actual dancing. I think Merrell took her as a trophy like he took mom, just to show the Underlake folk he could hack two wives and run the ship. There was some kind of political arrangement with that marriage, the details are fuzzy in the dark red light of the clock. It's basically just about the sex with Tindy. And the power. Makes the sex better. That woman got mad skills.
Tindy just ain't that complicated, I know she gets a thrill fucking around under Merrell's watch. I heard she and Jester squeezed one out in between sets at their show that one time. I bet he kept the hat on, can you even 'magine?
There's not time for more chat- she's got to sneak back before the town wakes up.
[OOC: Sex move fired]
You're alone with your thoughts. Of the explosion, the deaths, your uncle, Molotov...
Squirrel chuckles. "That sounded like a good lay." You see his eyes shining in the alarm clock light. His teeth, too, he's grinning. "I swear, man. When you gonna hit me with some o your castoffs?"
"Didn't mean to wake you, hombre." I grin back. I feel like I could use some reefer or something. This is a gooooood place to be in my head.
"I didn't know you needed my help, Squirrel." I get up and start getting my act together. What time does that clock say, anyway? "But you're my boy and I'll be happy to do you a solid. I owe you much. You got any particular interests?" I'm all professional-dude interest on the surface. And inside I'm feared he'll say Silica or K2. I start repacking my go-bag, getting everything green for the trip dirtside. And another thought strikes, lucky my head is turned away, did he see who just left my bed?
Squirrel chuckles a two-short laugh style, "Man, that's no problem at tall. I mean, I didn't love seein your naked ass, but I'll never complain about seeing her in action."
It's 3:14 AM
He sits up in bed, putting his legs over the side, facing you. "What about Nini? She's got an ass that I could bang and put a coaster on for my beer, man. You get me?" He laughs again, not a cruel laugh, just "guys being guys" kind of thing.
Soon as his feet hit the floor, he's kicking a small tape deck into action.
"I get you!" Good ol' Squirrel. He might just put together an ass-coaster. Where's that cussed rangefinder? Oh, there it is. I'll wrap it tight in a couple spare shirts just in case. "Be you know that she's looking to catch in a family way, and she aimed to have me help her with that. Don't know yet. But I'll let Nini know you're looking for Momma Rat Nini when I next see her dirtside." I set my mouth, kind of biting my cheek, and say, "She'd do good down here in her line of work. Make sure she don't have too many of your beers, till she knows, savvy?"
Squirrel's brows furrow in the dim light. "She wants to try again? Hunh, well, there's nothing to daunt the human spirit." He chuckles, watches you fixing to go. "Know what they say. Best thing about kids... is makin em!"
He stands up, pulling the sheet around himself, gives you a suddenly serious look. "Brother, you need any help? I only caught a bit o what y'all whispered about. More than I wanted. Mostly her panting yer name. But if you need me, I got yer back. For whatever needs doin."
I stop futzing with my pack, hold still. I stand up, stand close. Talk low. "I sincerely hope it don't never come to it, Brother Rat. If he's moving against me, hard and for real, I don't want anyone else trapped up in his violent delights. Noone or nothing that he can trace back to you, or the other Sib Rats, or... anyone else close to me." I don't want to give voice to the thought, don't even want to think it. And I'm not for sure which is who in my brain or my heart. And where the fuck is Oakley? Shit.
I clutch my jaw, thinking thinking. "Did you hear anything, see anything? Before Molotov spoke on the radios?"
Squirrel ambles over to sit back down on his bed with a sigh. "I didn't, Hadden. I didn't see anything. I knew J-Tear saw something, he came to me for a place to hide. I told him to go fuck himself. Because snitch. And Sparekey. If I knew more, you know I would've said by now, brother." He looks at you seriously, "What's next?"
"Got to get my feet to do the walking. Find J-Tear, maybe tbe Sparekeys, find Oakley, maybe do some covert shit, hire Lemma, save the world, get the girl, get a girl for my homes..." I try a smile. "All the usual shit."
My eyes glitter in the dim red LED light. No chance for more sleep. My brain's running.
Squirrel gives you this surprised look. "Hadden, man. J-Tear's dead. Pretty sure Molotov did it. And I heard earlier that Carnation bit the big one in a big tussle at Roxy's. Lotsa shit goin down, brother."
But you're heading out anyways, right? Got that To Do list and all.
You want to find Oakley first or go see Lemma?
Shit, that's news. How many more bodies this thing gonna make? Molotov actually do it, or Merrell using him to clean house?
"Lots more shit gonna come down before the fat lady rips a high one." I take his hand and give him a solid bro shoulder pound. I give him a look, but I don't have words ready, so I just say, "Watch your ass. You'll need it to keep up with Nini," and I really mean, stay alive and send word if you need help.
I wonder if Molotov didn't zilch J-Tear? Oakley can't be in trouble with Nosegrab... Nosegrab shuffled off in the slush. He's probably working off what he owes in the debtor's jail. I can check in there after I find Lemma. Maybe she's got some way to savvy out the truth behind the boom.