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[Snowpocalypse] The Long Truck Ride (H 2.5, R 2.3, S 2.5)
Hadden and Rossi,
Jester climbs slowly into the truck bed where he can lay down, and bundles up to keep warm. In the truck, it's just the two of you, on a long ride south.
Is there a radio or a heater in here, Hadden?
What did Jester tell you to convince you to let him lie in the truck bed, Rossi?
What do you two talk about on the ride?
Jester climbs slowly into the truck bed where he can lay down, and bundles up to keep warm. In the truck, it's just the two of you, on a long ride south.
Is there a radio or a heater in here, Hadden?
What did Jester tell you to convince you to let him lie in the truck bed, Rossi?
What do you two talk about on the ride?
Comments
This dude Jester would have to work hard to roll out, but I set up a loose bungee sorta like a seatbelt for him to hold on in case. He can play his harmonica if he wants to, I suppose, or knock on the glass partition if he wants it open to chat. But yeah, there's a tarp that helps keep the wind off, the blankets should be okay. I have a few emergency ice cubes if it comes to that. At this rate, might could rig an electric blanket to run off the solar for passengers, maybe a little foldout shelter... The last person who rode in the truck bed was Silica, and the image of her face framed in that little window comes to me... Jester's a little less fetching.
I don't have any kind of music in the minitruck right now. It can play something called an "Mipthree ipp odd," but I don't have one. There's no slot for tapes. I do have a little electric heater that can switch to run to solar if fuel's tight. With two people, the heater as needed, and all the windows sealed, it'll be plenty okay. I'll probably shut it off after a few to save gas, kick it back on later. I check on Jester again before we head off down the Danryan.
"It's good to see you again, Rossi." I am most definitely not looking at her huge rack. I'm sure she's got a lot of shit to deal with right now and doesn't need my attention to muddy the ice. "You need an ear?" I nod back at Jester and Lemma's station like, the whole thing.
Jester told me he wasn't comfortable in the front. He was going to tough it out, but I already felt bad enough, so I hucked him in the back.
"I need four toes," I quip back, wondering why he's avoiding looking at my rack... I thought he liked it just fine, last time. "Our masked friend kind of fucked me here, Hadden... Jester too... I paid out my last bit of jingle to cover Jester's medical bills, and I owe Poke his head for the services she gave me... I need work."
The joke catches me unexpected, and I let out a little snort of a laugh. Least she's not ground down yet in the spirit. She covered Jester's docwork... I wonder if she actually fucked them both? Did Poke snuff it over a failed threesome?
"Lay it for me straight. You and Jester a thing? What's the deal with this masked mofo, is he jilted 'twixt you two or what? And if you know him, why would he save Silica but then murder Poke?"
I give her an appreciative smile. "As for work, you still in the business of saving my fine ass, or are you doing something else these days? I can front you a BM plate for a week or so of bodyguard. Might need it with what I'm facing." Shit, I never caught up with Oakley. Hope he leaves me a note this time.
I start driving the truck up an onramp that's cleared of old dead cars, downshifting and slowing up for better traction. And of course she shifts in her seat with the motion of the truck and I can't help just quick glance at her rack. Damn, girl.
Straight? I'm not sure I can really lay it straight — not even for myself. I shift uncomfortably when Hadden asks if Jester and I are a thing. I don't fucking know what Jester and me are. I'm looking out for him, and he knows a secret that could probably get him killed... That's what's going on. "Fuck, Hadden... You jealous or something?" But then he asks about the deal with Ross, and I'm doing mental gymnastics again... "Samaritan — as Jester calls him — isn't as complicated as people make him out to be... He's just someone with a fucked-up past, and a gun. He knows that I like it when Silica is safe, and so if he went out on a limb for her, then it's because of me."
I take a deep breath, "as for Poke... He bet on the wrong horse. He thought Samaritan wouldn't shoot him because he was too useful to let die — but Poke was threatening to reveal Samaritan's identity in front of Molotov Niklaievich Kalashnikov. Even I'm afraid of Molotov, Hadden — if Samaritan shot Poke over his identity, then the secrecy of his identity must be really fucking important. Make sense?"
I lean back in my chair and fiddle with my shotgun for a while — checking the tube, flicking the safety on and off, that kind of thing. "I can't stay at Backside Misty's Hadden. Appreciated, though..." I pause a minute, and swear I caught Hadden sneak a peek at my chest. I turn my head away to hide a smirk. "What's this fucking shit you're facing down? I'm not really in a position to get in any fights right now — but you give me some down time to recover, and maybe I could get you some help... Depending on how picky you are about who does the protection."
As you're riding along the icy streets, you spot a young girl walking ahead of you. She's wearing a pretty yellow coat, but otherwise, she is NOT dressed for the weather.
It's Silica.
Lunch is floating above her, Rossi. You notice that.
Would be far, of course it is. After walking for a couple hours I start to grow a little less careful. I forget the dangers of the soldiers behind and out on the open road in the cold it's lonely and I sometimes grow careless. Like that time on the 'el.
Hearing the noise of the truck my first instinct is to take cover, but that's Hadden's truck! I step out into the road a couple steps so he can see me and wave my right hand up and back over my head. I've obviously been outside for some time and there's flakes of snow stuck to my hair and my skin glistens with clinging frost.
What the fuck? Rosie's with Hadden? Nobody could miss the skeptical look on my face like... this doesn't make fucking sense.
I spot the girl on the road, and my jaw drops dubiously... "What the fuck?"
Of all the fucking people in the world I could possibly run into right now... I swallow hard and look to Hadden.
She doesn't answer. Maybe it is a triangle. "Not jealous. Just sussing out competition for your ass-saving attentions. Plus if we wind up having to make camp on this road trip, I want to know what kind of bunking situation we can look forward to." I could be flexible.
"This Samaritan should know better. We all have a fucked-up past and a gun." I let out a long sigh. It's been a while since I've drawn mine with intent. Might could do some target practice. When she mentions Silica, I kind of look at the sky for some reason, the auroras moving in my memory.
"And Molotov was involved with Poke dying? Jesus fuck. It keeps getting better." I kind of get a thousand meter stare on that one.
"You can take a plate and barter it, girl. Don't need to cash it in. But the shit I'm dealing with is the Underlake collapse..." I give her a significant look, searching her reaction. "But maybe not with Molotov directly. That's what I've got Lemma working on on the sly."
There's a flash of yellow within the white and I see Silica in the road, and it's like looking through binoculars on her. I stop the truck.
"What the fuck?"
Quick, straight at my shotgunner, "Last chance of privacy 'fore she hops on, Rossi- Are yall okay?"
I think I may have misled Hadden... Or maybe I'm not speaking clearly. "What's that old saying? Might makes right? ... Molotov didn't shoot Poke, he threatened Samaritan and Dice calmed him down after Poke was shot."
Then he starts talking about the under-lake collapse, and suddenly I feel like people are coming at me from all sides... I swallow hard again, and let him finish his thought. "Molotov isn't exactly what I'd call a man capable of measured response..." Say one fucking word, and I swear I'll fucking hit you. "Nor the kind of guy who just blows up a fucking cave. At least I don't think he's the kind of guy to think that fucking big..."
When he asks if Silica and me are alright I shrug. "Depends. How much do you want to hear us berating each other for the rest of the trip?"
I say seriously, "Glad we're on the same page about Molotov's ambitions." She seems real tense.
Then it's time to lighten the mood. "I could listen to you two all day. Helps put my own family troubles in perspective. Jester can provide music for the floor show."
I hop on the horn, "Silica, you wanna be in the cab or in the bed?" Fuck, did I just say that out loud?
My hand lowers slowly from waving as the truck slows and stops. Pretty much staring at my sister until Hadden suddeny fuckin' startles the shit out of my with that loudspeaker thing.
I shake my head. "You fuckin' serious..." I mutter to myself as I start to walk forward, not that they can hear me from out here.
Then I approach the truck, the last couple of steps more quickly. I hop up on the plow while flashing my sister the finger and a smirky smile. Then without stopping, I jam a foot up in the hollow at the bottom of the windshield and pull myself up over the cab. It's taller and more slippery than I expected and I probably look kind of stupid there for a couple of seconds as I fail to swing my other leg up over something the first couple times and if Hadden's into my legs... well, he gets a good view.
Finally I make it over and hold onto that bar at the back of the cab to loudly hop down into the bed of the truck with a noisy metal sound.
HA!
I fucking hate my sister... Nice to know she feels the same way — aaand now she's trying to climb over the truck, flashing Hadden. Awesome. I slide the window open, and lean back, "Fucking watch it back there! We've got wounded!"
My, my.
You hop down into the bed of the truck, sort of on the guy from your vision. His shoulder. Woke him up.
"Ohfuckwhat?" He sits, up, then groans and rolls out of your way. And yes, his foot is heavily bandaged and not all there anymore.
What do you do?
I hop down onto the blankets or whatever shit they got stashed back there but shit, it's a fuckin' guy.
"Holy shit..." I say, startled and kind of dancing off my feet to get off the guy. I set one foot back against the rail of the cab and hang off the overhead bar with both to take my weight off my feet. The other foot hangs in the air.
Then I realize who it is and it's like... "the fuck are you doin' here?" And my eyes wander to his leg and that's... fucked up and I cant' stop staring at it and I'm worried that I kinda know what happened to him.
"Wasnappin...fuck." He looks over at you, his face pale. He recognizes you, "Nollie?" Then blinks, bleary-eyed, "Shit, sorry. The coat. You're... Silica. Rossi's sister. Hey, I'm Jester. Seen you at a show or two." He offers a hand as the truck starts up again.
I give a two-thump behind my head so they'll get settled, and throw the truck into gear to going again. I kind of mutter, "Silica just turns up in the oddest places..." I glance in the mirror to check on them and there's her ass.
Subtle.
I wonder if Samaritan is watching out for her now? I kind of lean over the wheel, half-expecting to see snipers.
I drive.
Ok, not a fuckin' monster or whatever...
I'm about to say something when he calls me Nollie, but he corrects himself instead. Then there's a knock on the cab and after a glance I hop down into the bed of the truck to crouch next to Jester, arms on knees.
I stare at his face for a coupla seconds, this is fuckin weird. "The fuck happened to you?" I glance towards his foot, "J... Jesta' how you got scraped?"
Jester shrugs, "Dice chopped off my foot. It hurts a shitton." He adjusts his foot to give you some room, watches you sitting, asks, "You alright?"
Ok... Maybe it's just me, but Hadden's kinda more ... pervy than I remembered him to be. Not that that's a bad thing or whatever — he's pretty enough that he can stare at my rack whenever he wants — but that's my fucking sister, man... I backhand Hadden's bicep and point back to the road... I don't like restraining myself, but a force of habit dials me back at the last second when I'm out of the mask — I doubt it hurts.
Did Jester just ask the girl who stepped on him whether she is alright?!?!
"Dice..." I say softly, like it's a relief.
I look up over my shoulder towards the cab of the truck and the little open window. "Fuck you Rosie!" I call back. Then I stand, settling my elbows in the edge of the little window to look inside. "Poppy worried about your ass, Rosie, shouldn't run away from fukin' home like that..." I probably sound pretty harsh... but yeah. I am pretty harsh with my sister.
I look around the cab, at Hadden and at her. I wonder if they've been fucking.
My eyes narrow into thin slits, and I clench my teeth in anger when she calls me Rosie. "You know that's not my name," I growl back over my shoulder, "and I was getting back to Poptart's place — shit just got out of hand. Since when do you fucking care what Poptart wants?"
Whoops. I give Rossi a kind of a guilty shrug and try to look sheepish. I'm about to say something else, but the window is open and Silica could overhear. I do remember that Rossi can be a little rough, and that can be cool. I don't remember her being this... territorial.
Polite, but a little friendly snark to defuse: "Hi, Silica. You're welcome for the ride. Where are you headed?"
In the mirror, Hadden can see my little satsified smile at how mad Rossi's getting. Going to keep it up, "Poppy's pearl, Rosie. Said if ya don't come home she's gonna adopt me instead all proper like... gimme your fuckin' room and shit." I set my chin on the windowsill and smile.
Lookin' at Hadden in the mirror now.
Her blue blue eyes, looking at me. I have the craziest twisted vision of the last time she rode here, swapped place with Rossi, not driving... it makes me a little dizzy, and there's some flash of green aurora that catches my eyes, makes me squint, gives a little ache at the back of my skull. I shake my head to clear it.
I laugh derisively at the thought of Poptart putting up with Silica's shit, and turn around to face her. "Good! At least she'd put her fucking mothering to good use with you!" I take a deep breath and add, "where are you going, Silica? It'd be just my fucking luck you come out here just to bitch at me."
Hadden's giving me eyes something fierce. I keep looking back.
I snicker a hissy little snicker showing teeth and glance at my sister, "pretty much did... the fuck are you doin' ambulancin' round with Hadden? "
Speaking of which, what's Hadden doing driving this guy around... odd jobs? Or does the guy just get off on hauling people around to feel good about himself?
I shake my head and look back to the road, "Jester back there is going home. I'm delivering some meds with him, and keeping an eye on him..."
I turn back to Jester and scoff, "I still got two fuckin' feet, you can have the bitch..." I keep looking at him though... isn't he fucking cold? "The fuck you doin' out here?" I ask.
I spin around, red-faced and furious at that quip, "Silica — you make one more comment like that and I'll throw your skinny fucking ass off this truck faster than you can finish the sentence."
He looks away, then flinches when you yell at Silica, Rossi. But mostly, he's miserable, and his attempts at humor seem to have been beaten down for now.
He doesn't answer you, Silica.
Jester flinching is a pretty clear indicator that I've stepped over a line... I remember our conversation back out by the Pier, where he seemed a little more relaxed when I was level headed, and I huff a few frustrated breaths... I need to calm the fuck down...
Why the fuck is Silica being such a bitch to Jester? What the fuck did he ever do to her?
Rossie doesn't bother me, I do... fuck I shouldn't of said that... but you know, heat of the moment shit, tryin' to be funny. Rossi just fuckin' pisses me off, threatening me now. Fuck her.
Instead I snap the window shut as Rossi's finishing her yelling and turn my back to the cab, press against it to slide down to my butt in the truck bed next to Jester.
After a coupla seconds I quietly ask him, being sincere, "you need somethin' Jesta? You hurtin'... you cold?"
Remembering the pain meds i picked up for One-footed (irony) and never gave her.
I slide open the window, pointedly. "My truck. I get the last word." Mildly, but with force: "Everybody cool the fuck out. I'll throw one of you in the snow and one in the fire and then feel awful about it." I'll let them stew for three seconds, and before one can open their mouths to start it again, I shout with gusto, "Troubadour, music!"
Fuck it.
Sitting there looking at the painful grimace on Jester's face I pull my backpack onto my lap and fish out the little mini-syringe of pain meds I got for Footie. Don't know when I'll see her again anyway... I get up on my knees and clambor over to Jester's leg and pull open the blanket...
Fucking gross... I try not to look at the bandages or whatever. The smell of blood makes me a little queasy and I want to do this fast.
If nobody stops me I'm gonna just inject him in the calf or something. It's like one of those emergency morphine syringes, just tap it in.
Jester answers, "I'll be alright, it just aches." He looks down at you when you pull back his blanket, "Silica, what you doin?"
I pause as he looks, relfexively look towards the window to see if anyone's watching. Then back to him, I quietly say "make ya hurt less." I nod my head a couple times sort of asking for him to say go ahead... people don't trust me. He probably doesn't either.
Jester nods an affirmative. He isn't looking around like he'd get in trouble. Rossi's watching you, though. Act Under Fire to pull it off without her seeing (and she can interfere if she likes, of course).
I don't suspect Silica of doing anything, and I'm feeling pretty bad, so I won't interfere.
Act under fire to quietly apply the pain killers:
(Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 5, 2. Total: 8)
Still driving, watching the road, I'll put out my hand to Rossi if she wants contact. Something in her vibe tells me she needs a simple thing.
Uh... Why is Hadden's hand on my shoulder? I look over to him — confused as fuck, but unable to swat him away — and slide the window behind us closed. Nothing about this fucking day makes a lick of sense... I tried to be good and reasonable with Poke, both times. I tried to be reasonable with Dice. Hell, I could even have fucking tried being reasonable with Silica for a minute there, until she fucking flipped me off for no good reason.
... "Hadden," I whisper, finally sliding his hand off my shoulder, "it's not worth it, OK?"
You inject Jester, and he tenses when the needle goes in. Hey, Silica, have you give folks drugs with a needle before?
Jester lays there after, sort of in a daze. He stops complaining, at least.
Yeah, I've done that plenty. You know Ice wasn't the first drug I tried either.
They're both in so much pain. They both shut people out. Rebuffed like a damn teenager, I wasn't trying anything like that, and suddenly it seems like the cold is leaching in just a little bit more.
"Rossi," I put my hand back on the wheel, "Of course it's worth it. I wonder if we're talking about the same thing... or even the same person.
We drive on in silence for a bit. The setting sun catches a little cluster of ice hanging off the mirror, and some spritely trick makes it sparkle a little rainbow of colors. I keep a smile off my face for Rossi's sake, but it's a little pretty thing, fleeting, so I enjoy it.
I lean against the far window, to put a little more distance between us... I don't know what the fuck Hadden wants from me. Considering he probably thinks I'm some helpless girl that got caught in the crossfire here, then I'd guess he has the wrong opinion of me.
Seriously: if he wants to fuck me, or I guess my sister, then fine... Whatever... But I don't want him getting any ideas about me. I'm not "worth" anything more than occasionally shooting the right person – because more often than not, I shoot the wrong ones – and Hadden shouldn't think I'm worth consoling.
I fucking killed Poke, and those kids guarding the pier because I was too stupid to not pull a gun on one of the only doctors in Chi-town. Jester lost his toes because I couldn't keep my wits about me and talk Dice down... I can't even keep a civil tongue with my fucking sister! ...
I am not fucking "worth" anything more than the screw I'm guessing he so desperately wants... So this is me saving him the trouble: don't make this relationship into something it isn't. The last person who did saw me abandon him when he needed me... Twice.
The rest of the ride passes in relative silence. Brimming emotions, but no words.
You reach a rather large graveyard, set in a commercial district, lots of small mom and pop shops line the place. Jester is sort of out of it right now, dazed and not terribly coherent, but smiling. You know the way, though, Rossi.
How are you guys getting him home? He's not walking on crutches, it seems.
Just a little note:
I spend the rest of the trip, back up against the cab of the truck. I'm watching Jester, kind of. End up with the back of my fingers against the side of his forehead, just to make sure he's allright. But it's under the blanket, I don't want nobody knowing. Yeah I look up at the little window from time to time, seems quiet in there, too.
I wanna say something but I don't know what and I don't know to whom.
"The fuck am I doing here..." I mutter to myself, raising a foot to kick the bed of the truck loudly with my heel in a kind of frustration.
How far are we going? We pull up at this old place and I guess I know.
These Pre-Freeze "graveyards" are weird. They would build little houses for their dead out of stone, or go through the trouble to put dead meters below the ground. Some of the sculpture is kind of neat, and there's so much room they used for the smaller stones, lots of words. Each one has such... a craft behind it. I remember the memorial in North Underlake, Seems like there's more dead here than alive in all Chi-town now. That makes me consider.
This last leg of the trip hasn't been exactly friendly-like, Rossi clearly is done with dealing with me, and I don't quite know what set her off. Grand. I wonder if she still even wants to save my ass. I give a little huff of frustration when we stop, and I don't exactly linger in the warmth of the cab.
"You want me to get his shoulders and you his ankles?" It's the first words that have come out in a while.
What the fuck happened to Jester? I took one of those painkillers, and I'm not as fucked up as he is! Has he been popping extras or something? ... Maybe it's just the adrenaline wearing off.
I could probably fireman's carry Jester myself... Probably... But my busted ribs make me so stiff I'm afraid I might drop him , so instead I just nod along. "Sure... Thanks Hadden."
I pop out of the truck and position myself over by the tailgate. I'm not looking at Silica right now.
Jester doesn't look great. Well, he's not in pain, that much is obvious, so... yeah i did good.
I hop out of the truck, they come over and get him, didn't ask... I didn't offer either. Whatever... but this place is kinda creepy. Once I got to see this old movie where these dead fuckers come back to life in a place like this. It was fuckin' awesome but I couldn't sleep for half a week... I smile a nervous smile as I walk towards the place, thinkin' about it.
I gotta say somethin' to settle down, "fuckin' dead all down in here... you know they got fuckin' clothes and shit. Buried 'em all dressed up..."
And yeah. Nervously I follow them.
I nod back at Rossi, and try to be easy on Jester. Crap, he's out of it.
"They used to do so much for their dead, it's weird."
You carry Jester into the graveyard. It's odd, the crunch of the ice under your boots, the stillness of the place. So little snow, just ice over everything. It looks a bit like this:
You can see most of the mausoleums, even some of the graves, too.
Rossi, you know the way to find Jester's moms. You lead them to this place:
Silica, you spot something lying in the snow by graves for three people with the last name. What is it?
Rossi, what kind of defenses do they have here? Any? Do they just count on being so out of the way that they're safe? Big locks?
I don't really understand why people would make these extravagant displays and shit for dead people. Everyone fucking dies — it's not some special thing that only happens to some people. I just keep on walking, like I've got a purpose, and try my best to avoid Jester's swollen foot.
Jester's moms don't have any defenses to speak of. Nobody fucking lives out here but them. They used to make regular trips north, but ever since Jester's mom mom — like the one that gave birth to him — got sick, they've been staying in. Jester does all the travelling. People know where to find them though... They just don't have anything really worth stealing out here. I mean, who would steal a couple of pelts and some hunted penguin meat from a couple of sick old ladies, anyway?
I walk right up to the Mausoleum and kick the door lightly — to knock.
Little creeped out walking through the graveyard. Yeah, for no fucking reason, but I can't help but think why they buried 'em all in clothes... probably in case they wake back up.
"Hey look at this..." I say weakly, they may not even hear... I hurry a few steps over to the right past a couple rows of graves. I'm careful not to step on the graves... just in case.
There's a skeleton in old military gear leaning against the grave... obviously been there for years, the uniform stiff frozen with moisture and an inch or two of frost caked over the thing. Hole blown out of the back of skull like he... yeah he did... someone must have taken the firearm but old military's often got shit in their pockets. Probably same kind of bullets my gun uses if I can find a clip... and I scan around and I say it quietly out loud, "you got anything good old fella?"
Thing looks like it could stand back fucking up... and shit, the nametag on the uniform's the same as the three graves. Just can't get myself to touch it.
If you want to try and make a grab for some bullets, roll me an Act Under Fire. With a 10+, you do it, and you get some bullets that match your gun. On a 7-9, you do it, but no bullets (something else, though). On a miss, chicken-shit.
All:
You head into the first room, which is frigidly cold and smoky. You head towards the back, where a flickering light can be seen. Taking a set of stone stairs down into the living area, you come into a modestly appointed den. One threadbare couch, a small fire, source of the smoke.
Sitting on the couch, huddled together under several blankets, are these women:
Melancholy is laying on Bond while she reads poetry to her. What's the poetry, Hadden?
Bond stops, looks up when you come in. "Hullo, Rossi!" she says brightly. Then she sees Jester, and eases Melancholy off her. Mel looks wan and worn and weak. Bond rises, comes over to look at Jester, worry on her face.
Rossi, which one is Jester's mom mom?
I know this one. I say the words with her, quietly so as to not disturb, but not so quietly that they don't hear.
When I do count the clock that tells the time,
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;
When I behold the violet past prime,
And sable curls all silver'd o'er with white;
When lofty trees I see barren of leaves
Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,
And summer's green all girded up in sheaves
Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard,
Then of thy beauty do I question make,
That thou among the wastes of time must go,
Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake
And die as fast as they see others grow;
And nothing 'gainst Time's scythe can make defence
Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.
I stare at the guy, "you know... fuck you... stop lookin' at me," I glance at the others, about to open the place up and shove at the soldiers head with the heel of my shoe. Just to stop his fuckin' stare.
(Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 2, 4. Total: 7)
Mel is Jester's birth-mother, if that's what you're asking — who hasn't? I've got a very stern look on my face. "Hey Bond... Jester's had a run-in with a couple bad people. I figured I'd get him home to you guys so he can recover."
You find the following in a small pouch in his pants pocket:
- A small yellow flashlight
- A multi tool
- Small crescent wrench
- A center punch. Wrapped with tape for ease of use with a gloved hand
- A yellow crayon inside a cigar tube
"Ma'am. Madam. I nod a greeting. I'll shake hands if offered, but I don't want to inconvenience the ill. "I think your boy will be okay. He sure didn't hurt his sense of humor."
I look around. "Cozy in here."
Bond comes over, checks out Jester. Do you hide his foot? "Bring him back here." She leads you to his room, a small closet-sized tomb with a single mattress on the floor. You lay him down gently, it's a bit weird stepping over him, but I assume you ndo, right?
Bond has worry on her face, of course. She asks you Rossi, "What happened to him? Is he in trouble?"
Why would I hide his foot? It sticks out like a sore thumb, and they need to know what's wrong with him if he's going to be staying here. "He helped out the wrong person," I offer with a shrug as I carefully step over Jester to join Bond, after making sure Jester is comfortable. "It's a long story, but Jester's safe for now... I think. He got caught in the cross-fire between the Skegs, and another big, masked fu-guy. Big masked guy."
I shake my head, and cross my arms uncomfortably, then nod over to Hadden. "That there is Hadden... He gave us a lift out."
Bond nods her thanks to you, Hadden. To you, Rossi, "Thank you for bringing him home. You are so wonderful. It's no wonder he's taken a fancy to you. Did he find you at the Scrapers the other night? He went out walking and singing, thinking he'd find you." She moves past you, into Jester's room while talking to you, stepping over him, checking his forehead, then moving down to look at the wound.
To Silica:
As you're what, hanging out by the entrance or something, Melancholy looks up. She looks drained and dark. There's a fogginess about her. She peers at you with half-lidded eyes. "Hello there. Silica. I know you." Her reedy voice is so certain, and a bit wicked.
[OOC, rolling Reputation on Bond, roll+cool, marking XP
(Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 1, 5. Total: 9)
I was in the middle of sighing, and looking away from her as she complimented me. Yes yes, everyone thinks I'm wonderful — and can I just ask how the fuck I swung that? Anyway, she announces that Jester went out looking for me in the scrapes the other night, and my gaze is right back on her. I shift uncomfortably, completely taken aback by this development, and narrow my eyes dubiously. "What?"
OOC: Read incoming.
(Rolled: 2d6. Rolls: 2, 2. Total: 4)
Bond has heard about the air burials that the Underlake folk do, way out, far from shore, where it's easy for the birds to spot the offering. She's heard that Hadden was there to help with the air burial of Ricecake, a friend, but she couldn't get out to the ceremony in person. She also knows he does deliveries across the lake in the truck she heard earlier.
I've shoved the stuff in my pack, clicking the flashlight a couple times to see if it has any juice (likely not) before hurrying over to the mausoleum turned family home.
And yeah, standing just outside, one hand on the cold stone wall, my injured leg bent slightly to take the weight off it, toe on the ground. Creepy bitch knows me? I narrow my eyes back at her, squinting into the relative darkness of their place.
I don't know her but immediately I don't like how she's lookin' at me and I'm on guard, I raise my chin slightly and answer her with a suspicious little smile, "that so? I'm fuckin' famous yah?"
Melancholy chuckles a raspy laugh and gives you a cruel grin. "Just because I know you... doesn't make you famous. I don't know famous people, Silica." Then, she crooks a finger and beckons you closer, "Come here. Tell me who hurt Jester." She looks back at the others involved in their conversation, like it's a secret she wants you to share.
Bond repeats herself, unfazed by your confusion, "Did Jester find you the other night, Rossi?" And yes, Hadden, she recognizes you now. She's more involved with Rossi and Jester, but you got that flash of recognition you feel from folks who know you.
She's getting all creepy on me, this old bitch.
I do take a couple steps in but I'm not playing along. I point over at Jester with an extended arm and kind of hiss-whisper, "that's not my deal, ok? I got nothin' to do with that shit..."
I blink a few times, still confused, but I can feel myself start to nod. "Yeah. He was playing his flute in the middle of the streets... You're saying he knew to go looking for me?"
"I didn't accuse you, Silica. I asked you what you know." Melancholy clarifies with narrowed eyes that seem to pierce you, put you on edge. "We have much in common. We can be friendly, if you choose to tell me your secret. Who hurt my son?"
Bond looks at you, answering without any hint of irony, "He knew. I told him. Not exactly where to find you, but I told him where to go and play. I take it that he found you. That's good." She looks down at Jester, quirks her head. "Oh... you had sex, too. That's nice."
This is not helping, the graveyard, the fuckin skull face and now creepy lady. I'm on edge all right, kind of holding myself as I walk further in. I'm half-listening to what the others are saying as I approach Melancholy.
Again I answer in a near whisper, "look, some hard motherfucker scrape him allright? I got enough hard motherfuckers on my case," thinking of the soldiers outside my place, outside Poppy's place, "allright? I got enough problems... just wanna see him taken care of."
I raise my hands, sort of palms-up.
Melancholy moves quick, reaching a bony hand out to grab your left wrist, Silica. It's sudden and surprising how she whips out form under those blankets. She squeezes, her long nails pushing against your flesh, but not yet breaking the skin, "I don't think you understand me. Give. Me. That. Fucker's. Name. Silica." She holds your wrist tight, not scraping, though you think she could.
What the actual fuck? I know Jester's moms are a bit creepy — I mean they live in a fucking graveyard for fuck's sake — but this? This is an insane fucking parlor trick. I don't feel fucking comfortable right now. I take a step back, and lean against the doorframe — half in the room, half out.
I think I might actually be blushing when she announces to Hadden that we fucked — like she just read it off her fucking unconscious son over there. I look down at the floor for a second, looking for some distraction from this bullshit. "Oh yes, Mrs. Jester's moms — I fucked your son good — then I left him to tackle that fucking hospital until his life was in danger, then abandoned him again with Dice!"
"That's fucking creepy, Bond... Seriously," is all I can muster. Then I spot Mel jump from the couch, and grab Silica and I jump out into the main room after her. "Mel! Woah! Wait! What the hell is going on here?!?!" I won't grab Melancholy, but I'm getting right in there.
Makes me cry out, a frightened yelp.
The fear in my head ust be getting to me, you know... I'm freaked out here already and it's like she's got the face of a dead thing... an echo of the skeleton I spoke to just before.
In panic I pull back against her, I fucking hate it when people touch me and I'm already fucking freaked out and this... "let... go of me!" I all but scream at her, pulling away.
Is she actually gonna hurt me? Fuck... seriously?
Bond blinks, like she doesn't get what's creepy about it. Then, you're heading into the main room and yelling at Melancholy.
To Rossi and Silica:
Melancholy keeps hold of your wrist, Silica, but she turns to you, Rossi. "This girl... no wait, your sister. Your sister knows who hurt my son, and she would rather be evasive than tell me the truth. She is WASTING her talents! What I wouldn't give for one iota of the juice flowing through her fucking veins! I sure as fuck wouldn't be wasting away down here, that much I tell you! Now tell me who fucking hurt my fucking son! I will put his name on the wind and he will choke and DIE! That is what I will do!"
To Hadden:
Bond is up now, alarmed at this outburst and trying to get over Jester without hurting him coming to see what is going on. She does not like it, you can tell.
What do you do?
I can't fucking hurt Jester's moms, I won't do it; but fuck if I'm going to let them hurt my sister, even if she was being a bitch to Jester. "Let my sister go, and I'll tell you who hurt Jester."
Melancholy flicks Silica's wrist away, not scratching or hurting her, but sort of dismissing her to look at you, Rossi. "Done and done."
Then Bond comes quickly into the room, moving between you both, Silica and Rossi, facing Melancholy, "Mellie, this is NOT what we do. We do not curse and we do not put names on the wind. You're dying! We're dying! No more! You swore to only listen! Rossi, do NOT tell her. Do... not."
Melancholy reminds you, Rossi, in a taunting tone, "A bargain struck, Rossi."
I let Rossi and Bond have their moment with Jester. Moms and not-lovers-whatever-things gotta have their time. I bow out of Jester's little closet- it's too small for four, and it smells faintly of something... gone off, somehow wet. Weird.
I nod at Jester's momma, and with my eyes ask to pick up her book of poetry... It's been a while, and it's a small thing. The paper is so nice, it's amazing. I get lost for a moment in the clean black and white of the words.... There's a faint green gilt shimmer as I'm touching the cover, and I glance over at Jester's mom and Silica? When did she come in? to see if they notice, but what the fuck?
I clamber up to my feet (When did I sit on the ground?), "Whoa, whoa, what the what? Be cool, what happened? Who did what to who?" Silica's caught fast by Jester's momma, Rossi's rushing in, Bond is trying to not fall on Jester, it's suddenly all elbows and arms in here and Rossi has a dark look in her eye. I'm looking to see who needs to be pulled off who before the shit flies and I think, clear as a gunshot, where is Rossi's shotgun, right now?Shit, there's zero cover down here.
They're striking some kind of a deal, spouting some weird shit about talents and curses and death, like out of an old play...
My hand is still holding the book of poems, my finger holding my place, and I'm rapidly looking at faces, eyes, hands, looking for weapons, here in this place of death in the before times, and I see Silica and Jester's momma and Rossi and Bond and Jester all a little blurry, their words mixing and blending, flashes of green aurora around everyone, pulling me in, twisting my mind, my eyes, my ears...
I lock eyes with Silica's blue blue eyes, and something somewhere inside my head shifts like stretching after a good sleep after a long night.
I reach out to help, but my hands do not move.
The bitch has me, what's wrong with her.... her fucking face! Shit... I pull at my arm, pull and scream at her, "fuckin' let me go you piece of shit!" I barely listen to what she's saying... the blinding storm inside my head is closing in on me fast... her voice is like a wild thing roaring in my ears and I want her gone... I want her to fucking leave me alone!
The others are talking, looking, the blizzard behind my eyes coalesces, starts to surround Melancholy, close in on this bitch... this fucking monster and I don't know what's going to happen but I need her... to ... let ... me ... go!
My fucking sister's voice is in my head, shouting... Melancholy's curses sting at me and suddenly my arm slips free just as something clear and green and brilliant shines from the corner of my eye and I turn my head as my feet slip and suddenly I'm caught in the light of Hadden's eyes...
Hadden?
(Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 2, 4. Total: 9)
(Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 6, 1. Total: 8)
Suddenly, there are snowflakes here where there weren't a moment before. Like a set of shutters were opened to another world. There flakes are green in hue, and the people around you are surrounded by green halos.
Melancholy, her aura is marred by black veins. Silica, you realize she's drawn power to herself from beyond the pale, and it has drained her, marked her. She is doomed, and knows it. She accepted the cost of it long ago, and the price is taken, stripped from her in inches.
Bond is brighter, her halos of green aren't nearly as bright as either of yours, but they are shining in comparison to Mel's. Bond's aura flutters and sputters, she would burn brighter if not for the extinguishing darkness of her mate. But she will not abandon her, not allow her to succumb alone.
Rossi, she carries twin auras, you both see. They stem from a core, and both burning brightly, but they are different, and not intertwined. One may subsume the other, hard to tell one from the other.
The greenish snow hangs in the air around us, my eyes locked onto Hadden's as time seems for a moment to slow... the monster which grabbed me shows her true colors, though and I recoil from her, shaking my head as a press my back again the cold stone wall near the door.
I can't look at her, I turn away and see the rest... the strange halo around my sister, the light which I don't usually see so clear is there and I can't deny it.
"What is this...." I'm wary of that bitch Melancholy but Hadden stares at me as if he can see it too... like he knows. I look at him again as the glaring green snow falls in slow motion around us.
Is this real?
It's like I'm snowblind, but not. Everything's too bright, the candle, the poems, the people, myself... I throw an arm over my face, press into my elbow, but it doesn't help and it still hurts.
In a quiet voice, "...what the ever-loving fuck?" I'm dizzy. almost fall into someone.
I stare the feeble woman down, and grit my teeth. She showed me kindness once when I came here... I feel like I owe her my honesty. "I can tell you who cut off his toes, or I can tell you who's responsible. Take your pick."
There's a real wave of... of malice from the momma on the couch- very not like Jester, weird. Huh. I clear my throat, it takes a try or two, and my vision is still like through really clear ice, a little warped. "Momma Jester," I try respectfully, "Why don't you ask your son? Did you get the meds he brought you?"
My eyes are on Hadden until he speaks, and then its like some kind of spell breaks... and Hadden is there asking a very ordinary old bitch a very ordinary question. And my sister's there... ok that's way not ordinary, but she's saying very ordinary things... nothing about monsters or green fucking snow...
And I'm on my ass in this fucking tomb. I look at my wrist, yeah, turned slightly pink where she grabbed me... I turn my narrowed eyes back to her and slowly stand, using the other arm on the stone to steady myself.
"Don't tell this bitch shit... she can ask her fuckin' boy," I spit out the words, rubbing at my wrist.
Damn it Silica...
I purse my lips into a thin red line, and give Silica a dubious look. "Jester's out cold, and he'll probably tell her he agreed to this bullshit to avoid passing blame. I know who cut his toes off, and I know who fucked up so that it happened in the first place." Then to Hadden, "the meds are in my bag. She'll get them in a minute."
My eyes find Bond, who I can't for the fucking life of me understand, and turn to give Mel a serious look, "what's it going to be?"
Bond steps in between you and Melancholy, speaking sternly. At Melancholy, "Mel! These people brought our son home and you want to threaten them? Stop it. Right now."
Melancholy looks right at Bond, hurt in her eyes, but she looks embarrassed, too. She slumps back into the couch, energy spent. Sapped. Drained away. Burned off.
Bond looks at you, Silica, "Is your hand hurt? I'm so sorry." Her tone is genuine, concerned.
I'm starting to regret this damn trip. Bullshit is thick, people wound up, I don't remember the sisters being this bad... Samaritan, maybe? And it's fucking weird in here.
My head hurts, too. Nobody's looking at me. Silica and Rossi both are charged up, Jester's out of it, his moms all up in it. I unexpectedly feel alone, very alone. I eye the door, and think about waiting in the truck. It's plain. Maybe even check out the neighbors for new work, yeah.
I still have their book of poems. I set it down, not sure why I do it fast.
I start out almost yelling, "Yeah it..." but Bond is bein' all nice about it and my tone drops, quiet like, "it... doesn't fuckin hurt."
I clench my hands at my sides and look at Rosie shootin' me looks and Hadden mopin' around looking suddenly very not like Hadden. What's gotten into him, he didn't not just fucking see what I thought I saw... no fuckin way.
But he may catch me lookin at him.
Bond looks over at you, "Rossi, make sure your sister is okay, alright? If Mel hurt her wrist, use whatever meds you brought for her first. I'm sorry, really sorry." She looks back at you, Silica, "Melancholy is sick, okay, Silica? She senses power in you, and it makes her, hrm... a little crazy."
Then back to you, Rossi, Bond says, "If you say Jester is safe, that's all that matters. We don't seek vengeance. Keep the name to yourself. But thank you." She's looking for the meds, of course. Not asking, but her eyes are pleading. She's watching her lover die, that medicine staves it off.