"Yes, sir, Mr. SeaTac" Joey says quickly, giving his mother a nod, heading off to check on Bon.
Laika sits back on her stool, an elbow on the bar. She watches Joey go like she already misses him a little, then looks over to you, "Hey SeaTac. How's Joey?" She's in good spirits, happy to be around her Arrows and her boy.
I listen to what Gates has to say, and I am glad I asked.
"That helps. It does not mean I know what to do, but it helps to have a better way to think about it. I do not know, honestly, if knowing the Admiral's guilt or innocence would affect my behavior." I say. "If he killed her, I still might not kill him." I add as if debating whether to have toast or not with my breakfast. "I am sure you would say 'revenge will not bring her back', and you would be right. I have not decided that revenge is worth the cost to me. I have not decided it is not."
I look at him a moment, pensive. "I think the biggest reason I need to know, is that if he did not kill her, I can stop hating him. I will never have a good relationship with him, but if I could just get rid of this iron lump of hate I have carried around for the last sixteen years..."
I sigh deeply. "I should visit you more often. For a man who never gives me the answers, you somehow always give me hope." Once again, I find myself in the not-so-Witch-of-Pike act of rising up on my toes and throwing my arms around Gates' neck, giving him a hug. "Thank you," I say, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
I bounce back down off my toes, shake my hair out, and straighten my coat, an exaggerated and self-deprecating pulling of myself back together. I smile. "Now. This would-be assassin of yours, the wolf who visited your flock. If you give my people a description, we can...help convince him not to do anything so rash again."
I don’t resist August when she pulls me to dance. Maybe it's the drink fuzz in my head. Maybe it's the melancholy fuzz in my heart but I let her pull me to the floor and we begin to sway together, bodies touching. By the wrathful she smells beyond amazing. That voice winds its way into my ear and carries me someplace beautiful and safe.
Being close to her does things to me. I lean against her soft shoulder, I am both entranced and acutely aware of every single point of contact between us and the heat that it kindles in me. If I had not had so much drink I would no doubt be escaping but now I only bask.
I hear Valentine’s answer to the question, finding it interesting that August and I are first on her list of people. Her reason, though, I understand well enough.
I am still half-hypnotized when August asks me whether I wish to contribute to Grunge’s initiation. I into those liquid dark eyes for a long moment. I nod and undo my outer shirt, let it slide off my shoulders, leaving me in the navy tank underneath. My names are exposed, of course, arms, chest and throat bare but for the ink, but the induction is important and… well I do not think too hard about my motivations. I turn find that Joey is nearby and ask him to take it to Rainey.
I turn back and hesitate a fraction of a second to steel myself before stepping into August’s arms, her heat, her energy once again.
"August is unbreakable." I say as we find our steps on the roof. "Changing who she is and how she is would take a lot more than that." More's to the point, more has happened to her and she came back around to herself. "She's taught me stuff I thought I'd never know, you know?"
"Cadet's great. Fast learner. If I have to tell him something twice, it's because I didn't say it right the first time. And he already gets the important things, the stuff that I'd have to borrow words to explain. That's you. With some help from your sisters, I'm guessing." I look down at cup #3, empty, look back up. "Can I buy you a drink, Laika?" That was stupid. I'm pretty sure that was stupid.
I smile when Bon makes her contribution, press my upturned lips into her neck when she returns, hands at the small of her back. My fingers move upward, trace one of the names on her shoulder. "Little Anne," I say, with an exhale. "I haven't thought of her in a long time. She wasn't an Arrow long, was she? I forget who rides her bike now. Is it Belka?"
I don't need an answer. I know Bon doesn't always like to talk about the witness she bears.
"Coming home," I end up saying. "After that time on the Leviathan. It was even more like home than I expected, you know? Having you back in the pile. I missed you, Bon." I wait. "We missed you. Just feels more right, having you back." Then I feel guilty, thinking about how strange me and Bon are sometimes. "I don't mean you have to stay, just because I like it. But I do. Dog likes it too."
Belka and Val beside us are a delight. I cast a look at Bon to make sure she's enjoying them as well.
"It's a bit like riding a bike, isn't it? You never forget how to move." I dance better when I'm a little buzzed, or maybe I'm less restrained. "Alcohol is the ultimate social lubricant."
Hope nods, "Yeah. I know. You're her rock, Dog. Always have been." Hope steps to the edge of the slate roof, then stoops down, sits on the edge, her legs hanging off. She pats the spot next to her, looking up at you, her eyes filled with life for the first time in a while, "What should I do, Dog? I want to be my own person, but Ace thinks I need saving. It's my choice to work for HM, to work for Admiral. I don't want to ride anymore. I like... nice things. And sleeping in a bed. Does that mean I can't ever be near you? Any of you?"
SeaTac,
Laika seems a little surprised, like of all the Arrows, you're offering to get her a drink. She looks over at the old man behind the bar, "I'll take a Scotch, straight up, don't skimp. SeaTac's got it." He gives a grunt of understanding and works on the order, hunkering down for a bottle.
She turns back to you, SeaTac, "You're giving my boy a life, SeaTac. A way to survive, to earn, maybe even be happy. I should be buying you a drink, really."
Valentine,
Belka chuckles and dances close for a moment, "I've got all the lubricant I need right now, Valley." She grins, then adds, "6-cup often leaves me pretty... sauced. Hah!" She twists her hips and grabs yours for a gleeful twirl. "So, you fancy HM? That man has a spooky smile. What is it about him?"
I have a seat next to Hope, easing myself down slowly. "The life's not for everybody." I've seen enough people wash out to know it's true. "It's not that you don't want to ride, it's that none of us think the nice things you get are worth workin' with HM."
A quick sip of water. "I used to work for a man that HM reminds me a lot of. Intense. Made you listen to him, or more like you wanted to despite yourself. I don't know if I loved him or hated him. But I'd do everything he said;
'Dog I need you to make sure this man never holds holds a knife again.'
'Yes, sir!'
'Dog this fight is soft touch only but someone needs to die; remind them that justice is cruel.'
'Yes, sir!'
And I felt real powerful. In my gut I knew how out of control I was. But it would never happen to me, the dirty stuff that took out the weaker fighters. So I ignored my gut. Now, 'cause I'm such a slow learner, I got this." I tap where the split-scar on my face starts. "I got used up, no matter how good I was."
"Now, I ain't sayin' 'Oh Hope you gotta come back to us, you just don't know what you're doin'!' 'cause soak that, yes you do. But I think you need to keep your eyes open, look for what you really want and take control of that. Make us see you have that hold."
A dazzling smile, half for Belka and half for those who watch. I twirl, dip, and start a foot routine slow. I'll let her pick it up before I make it crazy. "'Fancy' is the wrong word. More like the way a predator is compelling." My smile gains a harder edge before I realize. "The only way to survive-and-thrive is to be a bigger fish. To not be prey."
I move in close, as a lover would, eyes lidded. "Who's your fancy?" I nod to the crowd.
When the barkeep straightens back up, I say. "Two glasses, and you can leave the bottle." I wait till the liquor's poured, then look back at Laika. "You must miss the boy. You can visit, you know. Might even find an errand for the cadet to run, part of the time you're visiting."
I hold my glass up for a toast. Been a while since I've felt the need to... go after a woman. Wonder how I'm coming across.
Hope turns as you talk, listening, engaged, nodding and wincing when you talk about what you've done to fighters. She reaches up a delicate, manicured finger to your split-scar, tracing it with the gentlest touch. "You aren't used up, Dog. You and I both know that. You're as hard as the Arrows need you to be. And you're exactly where you're needed. Where you want to be. It's beautiful." She lingers, for a moment, the intimacy of touch, of this conversation, doesn't seem to be part of a plan or a ploy.
Hope returns to your advice, "I don't know if I get to have that hold, not obvious, Dog. The ones with the jingle don't see me as much but a trophy, you know? The minute I try to take something... is the minute I put a bullseye on my head." She brings her hand back down, puts it on her lap. The place where she touched you tingles a little from the memory of it. "Can I... can I ask you a personal question, Dog? It's about August." She turns her head away, like looking at you might be too much of an imposition with the question added to it.
Belka flicks a glance over at the gathered Arrows, then back at you. "Grunge." Belka doesn't say it loud and proud. She continues, moving closer, her voice low, "I fancy her a flood-load, and she don't have that for me. I fought hard for her, to get gigs with us, to be around the Arrows. And now she's in. She don't need me anymore. I thought, you know, we were innit together, but I was bein' stupid." She moves back to look in your eyes, Valentine, swallows once, meets your eyes.
It will disappear in a moment, this peek behind the gilded facade that is Belka, all strong bravado and careless abandon.
Laika meets the toast with a clink of glasses. She looks at you before drinking, two blinks, then takes a sip. "You sure you want to spend time with an old rider with a great kid? I'm sure there are lots of pretty Safeco and Piker girls who'd want a strong man to take care of them. That isn't what I need."
Yeah, I'm not proud of what I did there. I hold still for Hope while she touches me. "I was used up then. It took time for the beauty to come. It was hard."
I keep my eyes on hers while she explains what she can't do. She does know for real. "Yeah, I know. I know trying to get your respect makes you a target. But if you see a chance, you let me know and I'll back you up." I'd tell her I had designs on this whole thing but nah, not while there's Home to worry about.
I take a breath. "Sure, if it's mine to say." Most people don't have the courage to ask me stuff about August, this should be interesting.
"Kinda the point. You're right, if I wanted someone pretty to show off and keep on a shelf, I could probably manage. And I'd lie if I said I'd never taken a scrog in trade for a favor. You, though, I dunno... You don't need anything from me. I'd like to see what it's like, spending some time like that. Been a while."
I shiver at the touch of August’s lips against my neck. Her fingers on my bare shoulder. I nod in response to her question about Little Anne.
“Yes, Belka has her bike now.” I say suppressing a sharp inhale, keeping my breathing even. I remember Little Anne well enough, with her big brown eyes and the look she gave me as the life slipped out of her. Not a month later I discovered how I could have saved her. “She had such hopes for her life with the Arrows.”
I am already watching Valentine and Belka dance. Concentrating on it, in fact so I am not entirely overwhelmed by the tide of the woman in my arms. August is beautiful, but Valentine has such style. It makes me smile to see them.
August speaks of how much she likes that I am in the pile again.
“I like it as well, dearest, though that is but a desperately pale description.” The truth of that is obvious as I have found myself snuggled against Dog or August in the pile more often than not. I take a breath reigning in reckelss desire. Squeeze her firmly. “The Arrows are home to me, more than anything I have ever known. I did not understand it truly until I tried to be apart and found that every step I took away, far from bringing me the peace I wished, only increased my longing.” I pause. “Coming home has done much to fill my heart again.”
Hope smiles when you offer to back her up. It seems to calm her, she turns to look in your eyes, holds it for a moment that seems to stretch longer than it did in reality. She breaks that look before it gets too personal, and moves to her personal question. "August and you. You're together. But if she... strays, that's okay. Right? No collars. No ownership." The tone is understanding, not derisive, more like she's checking in than anything.
Her eyes meet yous again, her head tilts slightly, "If she's with Bon... what happens?"
Laika exhales a sharp breath, "Are you saying I'm not pretty?" She looks at you for a moment like she's offended, but it dissolves into the joke she was playing, just for a moment. "Hell, SeaTac. I don't know if I've ever spent time with somebody like that. At least not since I became an Arrow, and that was... well, a long time ago." She takes a long drink from her glass, but doesn't finish it. "I'd like that. At least to give it a shot, yeah?"
Laika wants to make sure her son has a good life, SeaTac. She wants to see what life you're giving him, more than just her hopes and the snatches of what she's found out about you. She'd like to learn more about you, more than her "gut feeling" that you'd do right by Joey. She trusts you, don't mistake that. But her head needs to catch up with the rest of her.
She wouldn't mind being something other than "the one with a kid" around someone, too.
When Bon squeezes me, it's like a brick of C4 went off in my spine. "Your ... longing," I repeat the words against her mouth. With anyone else, I'd say more. Let's get out of here. But with Bon, that feels too ... coarse. I'm afraid she'd say no.
And if I'm really honest with myself, I'm not used to anyone saying no to me.
I feel paralyzed, like it's all I can do to keep breathing.
Jax leans in to add to Vignette's assurances, "We're used to dealing with wolves, Gates."
Thank you for your offer, Mister Jax," QuePasa interjects. "We're more than capable of handing some rabble-rouser. We don't need Pike Boys coming into the House of the Almighty to spill blood on our account."
I know she was joking, but, "Pretty's a pale word, Laika, and not much of a compliment. We'll see if I can come up with a better one for you. For now, though..." I take a deep drink of my scotch, then grab the bottle and top us both off. "Let's enjoy this hooch and chat a few, maybe trade a few questions. You can even start, if you want."
You catch sight of Joey as he grabs a perch near Ace, who's gone back to sit down as the other Arrows are messing with Grunge. He's watching Grunge, because well, mostly naked pretty girl, but it's also something he knows is important, too. But he's there to sign with Ace a bit, while Cujo's busy.
"How did you get into your thing, SeaTac?" Laika asks, followed by a drink to give you some time to think on it.
"Right, I mean, stray isn't even the word.." I scratch behind one of my ears, not sure how to dig deeper into what I mean.
I stop scratching and let my arm ease down as she looks me in the eyes again. "With Bon?" I look over at the dancing goin' on. My, they are close. I can see why Hope's brought it up. "I dunno. Bon's been really unhappy for a long time, though, it'd be nice to see her let someone in. Might be uhh.." I snap my fingers. "..dramatic? We'll see."
Now, I know Hope is really asking 'What if August leaves you for Bon?' but that's a question that doesn't fit our shape together, or how we both love. August and me, we need each other at times and in different ways and we like being close and talking skins and we have history. I can't be teaching everyone who doesn't get it what 'no ownership' means.
I take a sip myself. "Born into it, near enough. Don't know who my parents were, but by the time I had words I was in the loving arms of the Unit. Everything was training, pretty much. Realized later even the games were." I look down at my hands. Nail on my left index finger's cracked. "But they taught me to read and write, how to handle myself, how to respect authority and when to buck it. Family, really." Shaking my head, I continue. "They're gone now. All of them."
Hope's eyes blink when you snap your fingers. She nods, once, "Bon is dramatic, that's for sure.""It is nice to see her relax." She looks back at you, "What about you? Dog, what do you need?" She inclines her head again, peering up into your eyes.
Her tone isn't some come on, it's a genuine question from curiosity, from concern. "You're always checking in on the Arrows, running this way and that. Saving them. Making sure they have what they need. But what about you, Dog?" Her hand reaches over to touch your knee.
“I am sure you can handle things,” I say to QuePasa. “And we would not spill blood in one of your places of worship. The offer was more one of delivering him to you…or to simply make him ‘go away’.” As I say this last I look up, raise my hands, and wriggle my fingers as if letting the breeze blow something from my fingers.
I might also provide some insight into what he is up to, if I were to have a quiet conversation with him."
I look at Hope and listen to her question. Tilt my head. That's a stumper. Over Pike's Place you can see little fires here and there, and stars are all up above in their arrangement, but the night is dark. I look back to the party, check on the initiation, the conversations that are still goin', the dancing. I smile at her.
"You worried I'm burnin' myself out? But you know, Hope, I need to do right by my Arrows. That's what makes me happy. It ain't always pleasant or easy, but I got all I need. If I come up a little short on anything else, that never lasts."
Sure I got designs on things, stuff I'd like to see get better. But I keep moving and point forward. "..I miss Marmaduke, though."
"Dog," Hope says softly, "You always do right by your Arrows. But, you aren't "anything else". You need to be a little selfish once in a while. You don't want to resent them, right? I promise you, at some point, if you don't do something just for you, one day you will." She squeezes your knee lightly. "I miss her, too. But you're switching subjects. Tell me... what's something you want, just for you?" She looks up at you like you're the most important person in the world.
"That's rough." Laika says out of respect. "We lose Arrows in dribs and drabs. I could never imagine all of them gone. At least, I wouldn't want to." She looks over at Grunge, who is half dressed in mismatches Arrow clothing, and now mostly bald. Laika laughs at her predicament, even the blue scalp she's sporting from the hair dye. She looks back at you, "You making a new Unit? With Joey?"
And here then is the precipice. August stills in my arms, whispers against my lips, and I am certain my loosened tongue, intoxicated by her even more than the shine, has led me astray. Never once have I seen August hesitate to engage someone she desired.
I swallow. The slightest shadow-sting of earlier bile burning in my throat. I turn my face to the side a moment to breathe. I see Dog in her conversation with Hope. She sits, steady and strong and caring… raising another sense of bewilderment to compound the first. Why, by the flood, did no one ever tell me how any of this works? I catch sight of Cujo and remember her words after my advice that day in the forest to tell Vignette how she feels.
“This means you must do the same for August… It’s only fair, Bon.”
It is, in fact, the only cure I have not tried.
I turn back to August, my eyes down as I steady my nerve. My stomach flutters in a new way. I bite my lip a moment, then finally nod. My voice low.
“Yes, longing.” I say, voice quiet and surprisingly even. “For the Arrows. For home…” I look up to her eyes with a small smile that feels bittersweet. I touch her cheek gently, feeling the step off into the void.
My knees turn to water, just for a moment, then I'm laughing deep in my throat. I stop the pretense of dancing. Hands slide back up Bon's spine, over her shoulders, to pull her closer to me. Not just words now, but a real kiss, urgent and searching, teeth plucking gently at her lips.
"It is no easy thing when one's affections are not returned." I'm aware that something more is happening on the dance floor near to us, but it's rude to stare. "Are you certain that's the whole of it? Is this a thing that needs time and tending?"
Everyone loves to talk to the bartender. I consider what I know of Grunge from her time at SafeCo and the Yacht Club.
"Well, weasly lookin' fella warin' a robe. New here, I think. No one had seen him before. Don't know that I want anythin' befallin' him, but if you kept an eye out, that would certainly be helpful. Now if you'll excuse me, I might go say hi to Val. But do come by whenever you want, friend, it's always good to see you."
"Not making a new Unit, no. That'd be more like starting a new Safeco or Pike. Too many moving parts. Only thing I plan on doing with Joey is teaching him as much as I can before some rotter gets lucky and takes me out. I'll let him worry about dreams."
I hold up a hand. "Whoa. I think you're forgetting we're supposed to trade questions." I give it some thought, long enough for a sip. "You ever think about what comes next? I know Zeus is still an Arrow, but do you plan on going out in the saddle, or finding some other kind of life to move into?" I'll come back to the mustache.
Getting this kind of attention from Hope is confusing. I can't think of anything I really want that I wouldn't share. I lean away from Hope a little under that look, then lean back and let my shoulders hit the roof with a thump. The sky is real pretty, even if there's some clouds in the way.
Now, I remember Zeus saying that one time, or maybe it was bunches of times, people walked on the moon with funny suits and big machines. I'm not sure I believe her like with my mind, but in my heart I do.
"Well...Belka owes me a meal from Yacht Club, and I ain't forgotten. And my bear's gettin' all patchy, maybe I can find a stuffy lion. OH, and I wanna play tire tag soon. When everybody's healed up."
I breathe in and out slow and even, kinda thinkin'. "I guess if I'm dreamin' real big I'd love to know how to read, but every time I try it's bad and I feel real stupid."
Calling her on the question trade gets a wry grin, like "you got me". She takes a sip before replying, "S'funny, SeaTac. I've been so focused on Joey for so long, that now I feel like he's starting off on his own path, I've been wondering what's next. And well, I don't exactly know. I love my sisters, they're all I've known for years. But I don't see myself riding forever." She takes a sip, brightens a little, "Don't tell any of the Arrows or I'll never get out of it, but I like cooking. Mostly soup, which is boring, I know. But some time off the road, with some good food to cook, I could do that. You know, for people." She trails off, it isn't a finished thought, and it's pretty obvious she hasn't said it aloud before.
As Gates takes his leave, I look out over the crowd. It is nice having the Arrows here, though I am still on their periphery. I missed them.
My gaze sweeps across the room. Ah, Bon. I should talk to her about Home--wait...maybe not just now. Bon looks...uninterruptible. My mind was instinctively reaching out, and I pull it back like pulling my hand back from a hot stove. I do not want to get caught in the wake of that.
Laika and SeaTac are talking, no doubt about Joey. Valentine and Belka are dancing. I do not see Dog, though I sense her nearby.
My gaze snags on Ace and Cujo, still over at one of the tables. Just as quickly my eyes dart away, not wanting to seem like I am looking at Cujo. I am looking-not-looking at Cujo as I continue to assess the room. I do have a legitimate reason to talk to Ace--it is not all about Cujo. I spoke to Hope earlier, learned a little of her frustration--triggered it a bit, in fact. So, I have every reason to go over there--to talk to Ace, not Cujo. Yes, that is what I will do unless something else intervenes.
I should drink the vial of False Home in front of Suquamish before someone throws her off the roof. Maybe it would be good to be a little more relaxed before talking to...Ace. But I cannot talk to her about Hope and appear to be under the influence of Home. I mean, that is what I am there for--to talk to Ace about Hope.
I chuckle. "So the queen of soup wants to know about my soup strainer? Truth is, in the Unit, back when I was Pyle and not SeaTac, we kept things tidy. Short-short hair, clean shave. But old One-Eye, he had a picture up next to his bunk, from the before, of some guy named Sheik Yerbouti. Never did ask him about it, but I thought the mustache was about the driest thing I'd seen, when I was a kid." I shrug. "So, when I didn't need to be regulation anymore, I gave it a shot, then decided I liked it, so it stayed."
Belka's shoulders slump a little as she slows down her dance. Her hands are on your sides, her dance has become more of a side to side shuffle as she struggles to express an answer. "Flood me, I don't know if time will do anything. I threw myself at her, Valley. And yeah, we scrogged a few times, but after a while I realized she's just marking time, you know?" Her eyes well up a bit and she moves forward to push her head to your shoulder, "It's soaked. But I still hope she's happy bein' an Arrow."
Vignette,
You come up to the table where Cujo is sitting with Ace. Cujo's on the bench, while Ace is on the top of the table, leaning back on her hands. They both look up at you. Neither sign, but there's a softness in Cujo's eyes, like maybe she'd like to say something. But no. No words. Behind them, over by Grunge, Rainey lets out a big guffaw and Grunge slips past her and runs over to the bar, jumping up and dancing around with Bon's shirt around her like a skirt and Hachiko's socks around her neck like a scarf. Grunge runs for the bar, then climbs up on it, shaking and laughing like crazy.
Joey's standing nearby, he was signing with both of them. He offers, "Hey Vignette, did you want me to, you know, translate?" He seems to intuit that you want to talk to them. If you let Joey translate, then converse with Ace and Ace will respond via sign and Jeoy will speak for her.
I take my leave of Vignette thinking about the situation she's in. Poor thing. Must be rough to have to...
My thoughts are interrupted as I nearly bump into a rough lookin' fella.
"Sorry about that, friend. I was a bit lost in thought. You're SeaTac, ain't ya? I've seen you around from time to time. Name's Gates. This is my friend QuePasa. We stay over at Pike. And if I may, from one hirsute fella to another, that's a well-kept mustache you have there. Ain't always easy to get somethin' lookin' that dry, I can tell you from experience.
I feel the chill I was intending to exude melt a little at softness in Cujo's eyes. I am momentarily stalled, forgetting that I did not come over here to talk to Cujo. Joey's voice breaks the silence, offering to translate.
"That would be nice, Joey. Thank you." And with that, I take a seat across from Cujo and Ace with a graceful, icy calm. Or that was my intent.
What really happened was that, flustered and blushing from my too-long eye contact with Cujo and my too-late recalling that Ace is deaf, I attempt to casually throw a leg over a bench to sit down, but the heel of my boot catches on the bench seat. I lurch forward, elbows and forearms coming down hard on the table, white-gold hair spilling forward across its surface, encountering unattended drinks and spills. I have a moment to groan inwardly before the second round hits--the traitorous bench slides down my calf to land on its side with a crash that seems to echo across the roof. I snort with something equal parts humor, humiliation, and frustration. Then, with as much dignity as I can muster--which is not a lot--I unhurriedly right the bench and sit. My hair is disheveled and wet in spots, and bruises are practically blossoming on my porcelain white forearms as I watch. Despite this, I leave my hands on the table. They are delicate and slim-fingered, devoid of the scars and scuffs of an Arrow's hands, especially one Arrow's hands.
I turn to Joey to translate. "I have been practicing. Maybe once I have mastered the bench, Dog will teach me to ride an h-bike."
I can't help but chuckle. "Matter of fact, Reverend Gates, Laika here and I were just discussing mustaches. Pleasure to meet you for real finally, and you, QuePasa. This here's Laika, she's an Arrow. Her son Joey's my cadet... trainee, you might say."
Ace bursts out laughing, which is an odd sound, loud and has a choking sound to it. She makes this sound like "Hooooo!" and slaps the table loudly. A few of the Arrows look over from the bar where they'd chased Grunge, but Ace is ok. You catch Hope looking over with a startled expression, but then you're talking with Joey.
Joey translates and Ace snorts again. You feel a hand on yours, look to see Cujo's with a cracked nail and bruised knuckles. With strong hands, she helps pull you up, even though you didn't need it. Her hands on your arms, she looks at you. There's a little upturn of the corner of her mouth. She didn't laugh when you fell, but maybe she's amused.
"Uhm, Miss Vignette." Joey says and you hear just barely. "Ace says Cujo's claimed that honor. It's... it's a pretty big thing."
"That might be a bigger question than you think. Teaching him what I do. How to be a soldier without an army. Make sense?" I gesture to the half-full bottle. "Paid for the bottle, would you folks care for a bit of whiskey? They call it scotch, but all I can guarantee is it's brown and strong and it hasn't killed me yet."
I am recovering my dignity along with my seat--the latter far easier than the former--when I feel Cujo's hands helping me up. I am looking at her almost-smile, and I almost miss Joey's translation of Ace. I am taken aback. Cujo could not have claimed that right without at least some raised eyebrows. Maybe it was bravado. I am sure teaching me to ride is not thought to be the safest assignment. One would have to ride with me, and I do not exude athleticism like most of the Arrows. One would also have to endure the "Witch's touch", which bears a stigma not completely undeserved.
My eyes flick between Ace and Cujo. "Please tell Ace that I talked to Hope about leaving Harbormaster and about the drug, Home." I say to Joey. "Hope knows she has options, but she is very sensitive to people telling her what to do--like all you Arrows," I add, hoping to soften it. "I wanted to buy her freedom from the Admiral or from Harbormaster, but my interference offended her. I am telling you this so maybe, if you talk to her, you avoid the holes I have stepped in."
I pause for a moment, remembering the determination in Hope's eyes. "She is stronger than she appears... If I can help in any way, if she needs a path other than returning to the Arrows, please let me help."
I do not mention the sample of Home that I got for Bon. No need to raise hopes or risk word getting back to Harbormaster.
She pulls me in and my own passion rises to meet hers. In the tiniest corner of my mind, the only portion not entirely subsumed by the sensation of her or the emotion filling my being, I think vaguely that I must revise my notion of the nature of kisses. This thought persists only a moment before it too is overrun with the tidal wave and I lose any sense of anything that is not me or her.
We break and I find myself breathless and flushed. And it is only now that I have any room to be both elated and terrified by the power of it. I stagger, dizzy again. Is this the effect on all who she kisses? It takes me a moment to understand what she asks.
Get out of here… together. Go somewhere to… to be alone. Alone with her.
I open and close my mouth, searching for words. I glance around the room, suddenly concious of the spectacle we must have presented, and noting the new arrivals and seeming lack of interest from all. Our embrace must have been well noted and of some duration. I feel my face heat more. I look at Dog out on the roof for a long moment, finding my previous excuses hollow. Then I look at August again and finally nod in agreement.
Joey dutifully signs your message while Cujo's still holding your arms. Cujo lets go, realizing you're up, you are capable of taking care of yourself. You realize Suquamish has noted that moment, filed it away.
Ace's face breaks from mirth to a scowl. She hastily and violently signs back at Joey, eyes darting to glare at Hope. You catch a few signs that you've seen before, when Arrows in the pile have made jokes about Millions in the past, a couple about your father, but you were smart to keep quiet about that, of course.
Joey licks his lips, blinking and turning to translate back to you, "Ace says that, uhm, Hope isn't an Arrow. She sold her, ah, her self for a leg she doesn't ride with and a drug that makes her.... make bad choices. And she's, well, Ace is saying she doesn't want her back. She gave little sister a chance," This pains Joey to repeat, "And Hope's just here to make Ace mad now. And," Joey's eyes widen, "Hope better leave quick quick, or Ace is gonna..." He signs back at Ace, repeating his signs aloud, "No Ace, you are not going to soaking shoot her!" He stops, looks back at you, then offers a weak grin. "Uhm... anything else, Miss Vignette?" Cujo's shaking her head, but it's like she knew it was coming from Ace, not that you did anything wrong.
Hope looks over at Ace for a long moment, watching her sign to Joey and Vignette. Her face falls a bit, and she closes her eyes, seems to withdraw from the conversation. Like she doesn't want to see Ace talking, she lays down on the roof beside you, looking up at the same stars. Her voice sounds a little reedy, "Well. Joey told me he's learning to read from SeaTac. Said he's a real patient teacher. Or... well, I could teach you. But you'd have to come up to Safeco. We could learn in Admiral's place, it's quiet." She turns her face away from you and the Arrows, like something else caught her attention. But you know nothing did.
I regard SeaTac as he tells me all this. "Sure, friend, I'll have a drop o' whisky. And I think I heard a little bit in the past about yer solderin'. Can't rightly remember where, but word gets around. How'd you get into that sort o' thing?"
I laugh again as I signal for two more glasses, then put a hand on Laika's shoulder to share the moment with her. "Mustaches and history... seems I've already covered a lot of ground tonight with Laika. I won't bore you with a recap, Laika, promise." Attention back fully on Gates, I go on. "Long story, and you're welcome to it someday. Let's just say I was raised to it." I know the polite thing might be to ask the same sorta question back, but I don't really need to know. Something else on my mind. "I hear a lotta stories about you, Gates. 'Signs and portents,' Sarge woulda called them, all sorta things about your people fixing things that shouldn'ta been fixable, working past when normal folk would've dropped. Some drunk at Swill's said she saw you walk right through the rain without getting wet. Do you reckon some of them are true?"
I'm pulling Bon towards the door, giving her Dog's jacket to throw around her shoulders, since Bon gave hers to Grunge.
::Back at the pile later.:: I sign to Belka so someone knows what's up. Dog and Hope went off somewhere.
We'll be riding my bike. Which used to be her bike. I lean her against it before we hop on, kiss her again. Hard. This feels good.
"My place ... or yours?" Grindhouse is what I mean. I can go back to that room I shared with Millions before everything went red. Or her clinic, I guess. She's got somewhere private to kip there, right?
"If I ever've walked through the rain and not got all wet it's because I was holdin' an umbrella. That's how these things, go, though. Some folks tend to accumulate stories around 'em like pipes gatherin' rust and I'm one of 'em. Tell ya what, I once knew a fella who chased some hooligans out o' a bar he was tendin' by wavin' a big stick at 'em. When I heard someone tell the story third hand the next day, he weren't carryin' a stick but a darn sword. But he was jus' that kinda fella. The kind where someone says he done chased folks with a sword and you believe 'em."
I sip my drink.
"Now the other stuff, fixin' things that shouldn'ta been fixable? That I certainly hope we're guilty as charged, on. It ain't no real mystery, though. We're hard workers, we look out fer each other, and we got the fire o' the Lord in our hearts. The rest is jus' elbow grease."
I glance around the room at Val, Vignette, and Bon.
"Seems we got lots o' those types here, though. Folks that stories grow on. Even you, SeaTac. I heard things about you. Yer dangerous, yer a killer, yer a hero. Heard you once shot a man right between the eyes in almost pitch black from 100 yards away because you got the slightest glint off o' his teeth."
A conspiratorial pause.
"Heard you were one o' the point folks for the boat raid. Don't know much about it. Want to tell me what that was all about?"
A hundred yards? That's almost an insult, but I don't like to brag. "I was there, took care of some of the problems. They were a threat, we eliminated it." I think for a second about what's mine to tell, pour some liquor in the two empty glasses the bartender finally brought. Hand one to Gates, make the offer to QuePasa with a raised eyebrow. "I kinda stumbled across the whole mess. That boat was what took out the harbor, and I was reconnoitering on Admiral's dime. Storyteller was already there, caught up somehow that I never got clear on." I shrug. "I did what I do. Some protecting, some killing, some just plain blowing things up." I'm still kinda proud of that shot on the mortar, but I'm not going to say that.
I know Laika wasn't there, on the boat, but I feel like I should add something because it's true. "The Arrows are a tight outfit. Good fighters, and they take care of each other. Valentine and Bon, they were there, too... that made a big difference. I had the easy road."
Grunge Q&A: how are they doing? what’s up with them? Tonight might be the best night of Grunge's life. She's wanted to be an Arrow for a long time, and now, she is one. She is planning on getting stupid drunk and high, and sleeping in the damned middle of the pile tonight, clad in whatever Arrow clothing she still has left.
what or who do they love best? Grunge thinks Dog is the most amazing person she's ever met. She admires how tough she is, how direct, how in control. She wants to be like Dog. Have the Arrows look up to her like that, to lead them into battle, to party with them after.
how could I get to them, physically or emotionally? Threatening her position with the Arrows would be the most direct. She hasn't exactly left Admiral's Inside Gang, and that could become a problem, if you put the word in the right ear. Making her look bad in Dog's eyes would be even worse, though. She really wants to impress her.
"Soak that." Laika interjects. "SeaTac was a one-man army. That boat was raining hell on us, and he took down their big guns, from the shore. So far a shot I couldn't even see what they were shooting at us." She drains her glass, reaches for the bottle to pour a finger more.
"And you're teaching that young boy how to kill. And how to blow things up?" QuePasa asks with not a little bite to her tone. She waves off the glass of scotch offered to her.
I catch that look, that sound in her voice. Think I'm gonna stick with Hope a while.
"I'm up in SafeCo pretty often as it is, Hope. Could be good to have both of you helpin' me out, since it's such trouble and you and SeaTac both got stuff you do. I'll probl'y slow down Joey's learnin' it." I pat Hope's leg with a chuckle in my throat.
After a pause, I go on in a more quiet voice. "I'll come with you to talk with Ace. We ain't got to go just now."
"Oh." I go back to a normal voice. "Hey, Hope, I wanna tell you another story."
"Did you know I used to run away from the Arrows, when I was new? I wouldn't steal a bike 'cause I wasn't that stupid, but if nobody had an eye on me, if Nana didn't tell me 'Watch this soakin' spot, Guard Dog', I was gone." I raise my arms and gesture out bits of the story, a fleeing hand and a watchful one.
"I wasn't 'in' yet, I was like Nana's project, so Nana might come get me, or Rainey would find me I weren't back in like..two-three days. Maybe. It wasn't a thing to anybody. It was easy to run and come back before anyone minded." My hands come back together.
"But one day Bon got wicked mad at me for it. She just tore me a new one with that voice'a hers and I could not believe it. Nothing I said cooled her off. It was worse than an ass-kicking."
I meet QuePasa's eyes, completely honest. "Yes. I am. And how to protect. And when to kill, when to blow things up. And why. That boat? It was nothing but a death from out of the red, and if you don't think someone needs to be ready to handle that, now and for the future, well, God bless you. Seems to me I read once 'A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up.' That about covers it, I think."
Dog’s jacket is some kind of odd congruence. I stroke it nervously with the hand that is not in August’s as I follow her away from Yellowhouse and to her bike. She favors me with another one of those kisses that has me on the edge of delirium, making little breathless noises into her mouth.
“Yours” I breathe when she asks me where to go, not knowing where it is exactly she speaks of. Mox, Shy and Decatur at the clinic, not to mention my patients… well it would not be ideal just now. In truth it does not matter. I might have begged a favor from Valentine had I known what I would be doing.
What I will be…
We are on the bike, my arms wrapped around her, when the first real wave of nerves hits me. My understanding of this… this area of… uh… endeavor is, honestly, entirely intellectual. I understand the mechanisms involved well enough but… well I have simply never made time for this sort of thing. My upbringing, and my long mourning of Nee robbed me of any desire to bring someone this close.
She will think me ridiculous.
And what of her hesitation before? Was it her excessive respect for me. Does she understand how I feel or is it merely friendliness and physical desire? Or does she feel some obligation to me because of my feelings?
My analytical mind, now only slightly dulled by the alcohol, can make nothing of these questions. My own machine, on the other hand, seems remarkably indifferent to my quandry, intent instead on its cravings.
I hold up my hands. "Do not shoot me...but you and Hope are more alike than you know. She reacted very much the same way when I offered her help, though...not so much shooting talk."
I shake my head and get up to leave. "I will not presume to counsel you on your sister, but I will tell you what I think of her. You are right--she is not an Arrow. But she is also stronger than I imagined. She may be lost and wandering, but she knows herself and guards her free will fiercely. She has a perspective that I do not understand, but I think it is her own. I do not think she is here to upset you."
I trail off, not wanting to push Ace too far. "I hope you do not shoot her. There is still very much Hope left."
I glance at Cujo before I leave, pressing my lips together in an acknowledgment that is not quite a smile.
"Joey, thank you for translating," I say with a nod to the boy.
By now, I have caught sight of Hope with Dog, and even with my senses pulled back, I could not have missed the conflagration surrounding Bon and August as they left.
Suquamish is marginally safer with August gone, which makes it less likely that I will have to explain to Harbormaster how she was killed. I think I will keep her away from Ace as well...
"Belka, sugar, let me tell you what I'd do, in your boots. Grunge is on top of the world right now, just look at her elation, at her celebration, at her inebriation upon becoming an Arrow." I nod with my chin and do us a slow turn to change her line of sight. "Ask her again while she's at her apex, when her guard is down and she's feeling lubricated." I punctuate that with a wry twist of my lips. "You may get a fresh answer. Or if it's the same answer, then you know it's honest and true, as much as it might hurt."
I do a long sliding step and lead Belka along; I feel this tune is nearly done, maybe. "You can't have unrequited feelings eat at you, dear. It's bad for the soul and bad for your tribe of Arrows." I'll kiss her cheek as we're cheek-to-cheek.
It's a total pain in the ass when your employees are moon-eyed, or worse yet — half-moon-eyed, at each other. I feel for Dog.
Hope doesn't answer about talking to Ace, but she heard you. Probably thinking it through, a bit skittered to put you in the middle of things. Your story though, it pulls Hope out of her funk a little. She rolls over to her side to face you, and the thought of Bon yelling at you puts an amused crinkle on her soft lips.
"Yeah.... Bon's never gotten mad at me. I don't know what I'd do." She stops talking to watch as August and Bon leave together. There's a curiosity in her eyes about that. She doesn't look down at you for a few moments, "I've made Shy mad a bunch of times. She's really sweet, but she doesn't get why I left. The Arrows. She wants to ride so bad."
Hope licks her lips like she's working herself up to say something. After a beat, in a quiet voice, she says, "You know I love you. All of you. I just don't want that life. And HM's bad to people who are bad to him, you know? He's been real good to me. Admiral, too, if you believe it. And... I get a little spaced out on some, well, drugs, sometimes. But the Arrows get drunk all the time, smoke up, all kinds of stuff. I don't know why Ace sees different. I don't..." Words falter, she licks her lips, rolls back to lie under the stars. "I'm sorry, Dog. I didn't mean to put you in the middle. I just wanted to see my sisters." She moves her hand over, slips it into yours. Her fingers are delicate, nails manicured, soft and clean. So unlike yours, right? How does that feel?
After a few moments, she asks curiously, "Your first name's Guard?"
Joey signs your words to Ace. at a couple points, Ace looks away, trying to ignore Joey, scoffing your support of Hope. Joey nudges Ace's arm, and moves around to stay in her field of vision. It's insistent without being forceful. At the end, Ace signs back something short.
Joey swallows, nods once, then tells you, "Ace thinks you throw heart after the wrong things, but you're in the pile, so she won't shoot you." That's when you notice Cujo's eyes have grown hard. She's not happy with Ace right now, but she's not going to confront her here. Joey turns a little so you're seeing him, but Ace can't, and adds, "She's... she's lashing out right now. And she's banged up pretty bad, too. I think she heard you. I... I'm really proud that you stood up for Hope, Vignette." He offers a little smile.
"Mistress of Pike," Suquamish says quiet and low against your right ear as she moves close. "You did your good deed for the night, yeah? This is a mighty nice party, you know. Maybe we take care of the thing you promised you'd do days ago? It's the perfect time."
"Thank you, Joey. I am honored by your opinion of me. I love Hope...I do not know why. I did immediately. She seemed so precious, so fragile...like something that should be protected. But I was not lying to Ace when I said that Hope is made of stronger stuff. I will do anything I can for her, but I will no longer presume to know what is good for her. She may have life more figured out than I do." I smile sheepishly.
"Suquamish," I say in greeting, with a nod and a smile of completely feigned warmth. You might think I would be very good at this, constantly skimming across the streams of thought flowing around me. I am not. Mostly, people find my false smiles uncanny and disquieting. For all that I observe about people, I do not understand them well, I am not entirely like them. This is an asset as the Witch of Pike...isolating as Vignette.
"Yes. I suppose this is the right atmosphere," I reply. It is not, at all. I feel like I have unfinished business with Cujo, and I do not want the Arrows to see me under the influence of this stuff. Better now, though, than before talking to Ace. And honestly, I want to get rid of Suquamish, and this is the only way to do it--especially with August no longer around to stab her.
"I just need a few words with Jax, to make sure he is prepared to handle any Pike business, if necessary, while I am...at Home," I say to Suquamish. Without waiting for a response, I turn to leave, intending to stride to Jax. Then, something Joey said strikes me.
"Wait," I say, turning back to Joey. "What does she mean 'I am in the pile'?"
QuePasa listens like she's looking for a weak spot, but at the end, she simply nods curtly. "It's a hard world." It seems like an agreement, but maybe not.
Grunge comes dancing over, still on the bar, and playfully pushes at Laika's head with her foot.
Laika turns around, and looks up at her, "When are you taking your Arrow name, Grunge?" That stymies Grunge for a bit, and she looks around.
The gathered Arrows all laugh, and Rainey reaches up to smack Grunge on her mostly naked ass.
I think about the conversation that QuePasa and SeaTac are havin'. She's tryin' to find somethin' wrong in how he's talkin' because she's tryin' to kill that part o' herself.
"Y'ain't wrong, QuePasa. It's a hard world. So SeaTac's got the right of it. Someone's gotta do it. And y'ain't wrong, SeaTac. The word o' the Lord does say all that. Time to kill, time to heal, all that."
Looking up, I meet his gaze directly. Not aggressive, just knowing.
"Yet I always wonder when folks say that, what's the endgame? Iff'n we're going to be destroyin' and killin' cause the Lord said there's a time fer that, what's the ultimate goal? I think when you take the Lord's words together, you see that that He don't rule out that possibility, after all, He says He came to bring a sword and turn folk against each other. But His overall message is 'Blessed are the peacemakers, they're the ones that'll be in charge when things are all set right.' I guess what I'm sayin' is I worry that it's easy to see violence as a means to an end, but then before you know it, the devil gets in ya and it becomes an end in and of itself. You hearin' me? How do you find you know the difference in yer line a work?"
"Awh, Shy does want it bad. I've told her she needs to work on learning to ride and shoot, and scrounge up a bike. I don't want a red-painted ride for her." Shy has a little puppy version of her aunt's temper, it's cute.
Hope's hand is small in mine, soft. I keep my hands clean, keep my nails real short so's to keep the grottiness out. I don't like having red under my nails. It can go a lot of places from there. Otherwise my hands are a lot like the rest of me, hard, old nicks of scars, unfancy tattoos. Strong and clever. I give her hand a soft squeeze and watch as Hope talks.
It's good to hear that HM and Admiral have been good to her. But there's a warning that swells in me, of the anger before anger. Anger and me are old pals, so I know how to make it wait.
I'm mulling over her words when she asks me about my name. "My first name was Mad, and then Nana called me Guard and now I'm just Dog." I ain't gonna explain where the Mad came from.
After a breath, "I love you, too. We all do, you're precious to us. Some of us, we think Arrow life is the only good life because it's the only good one we've had. But we want to see you, too. I'll get between over that. And you know..I almost had to kick Belka's ass because she was smokin' more than ridin' last week."
Hope keeps hold of your hand when you explain your name, squeezes back when you say your name was Mad, but doesn't pry. At the end, she nods, "Belka got kicked out of Yacht Club, went down to Swill's. She was really, uhm, living it up. Partying like it was rebellion. She looked a little lost, and a little stupid. I'm glad she's back with the Arrows..." There's an unspoken "but" in there. Hope doesn't finish the thought.
"I shouldn't steal you away while Grunge is coming into the Arrows, right? You want to go? It's ok. I should head back before it gets too dark." She sits up.
I smile. "You see, that's why I don't much try to justify what I do. Everything's slippery when you look at it too close. I'm not saying there ain't been days when I killed for jingle, pure and simple, just to get food in my belly or what-have-you, and sometimes it's a joy just to be good at something." I look down into my glass, thinking, then take a sip. "Seems to me in the end, though, power's power, whatever the line of work. Rumors or no, you've got people that would like as not take a dip in the reddest pond if you asked, I think. That's good when you're drawing 'em forward, making something, but it wouldn't be so good if you started enjoying the control for its own sake, would it? How do we tell the difference, you and I, between enough and too much?"
Joey does this sort of shrug like "how do I explain this?". He offers, "You've been invited into the pile. By Dog, no less. So, it's like, you're kind of an Arrow. Like I used to be. It gives you some serious protection." He turns his head to look back at Dog and Hope. "Hope's not one of uh... of them anymore."
"Let's walk back to the party together. See some faces." I stand up and offer Hope a hand. "It's been nice, talking." I don't want Hope to walk back to SafeCo by herself, but SeaTac and Joey are still around. Should work out.
"And you know," I say while we're picking our way back, "I could just as like have Hachiko or Rainey do Grunge's scary oath ride." Just in case she feels enough courage to talk to her sis. If Ace makes gun-eyes at Hope..
Hope takes your hand, lets you pull her to her dainty feet. You both walk back over the roof to join the crowd. With Grindhouse entertainers and Arrows and Pikers, the place is a crowd. Belka's pulling some folks over for more 6-cup, Zeus and Winnie are headed back to the hideout. Chance is up on the bar dancing with Grunge. They're trading shots and laughing while Rainey, Lika, and Hachiko hoot and holler.
August and Bon are gone already, as you know. Gates and SeaTac are talking, with that fussy QuePasa nearby. Vignette is chatting with Joey and sort of Ace, but Cujo's right there, watching everything, mad about... well, being Cujo.
Hope's still holding your hand, letting you guide her, sort of protecting her. Just in case.
I think about what SeaTac asked, hard, for a second.
"I truly believe, sir, that outcomes matter. One can take a hard action, but if it makes the world better, like by reducin' other folks sufferin', then I think you can make an argument for that hard action. Even if what you do is, ultimately, fer jingle. I mean, take what we do: we make thing out o' wood. We do it because it's good, honest work and we like doin' it. But we then sell it fer jingle to get by. Some folks instead o' makin' destroy fer jingle. But if that destruction clears the brush so new things can grow, well, then, maybe they're doin' a service."
Another pause as I debate whether to say what I'm thinkin'.
"It ain't like we ain't got brush we need cleared around these parts so better things can grow..."
I can't help but notice that Gates doesn't talk directly on what I brought up, in his world, but I see he's thinking on it.
I don't do this much (leaves me without a grab to the holster), but I hold out my hand to shake. "Reverend Gates, I believe we may have found some understanding, without coming to an answer. I think we might have something to learn from each other. Me more than you, maybe. I'll find you when there's less hooch and... what's the word? hormones... flowing."
"I do not really believe Hope is not one of them anymore. She is on a different path, like you, like me." I sigh, looking out at Hope and Dog chatting on the roof. It is humbling to think that I am, in some way, still part of this, to think that Cujo laid claim to my training. "I could have been the worst Arrow... I say with a self-deprecating smirk. "Being the Witch of Pike plays to my strengths a bit more, despite the increasing promise I have shown with this bench."
"Thank you for translating, Joey," I say. "And thank you for not shooting me, Ace." My eyes linger on Cujo. I think maybe we are okay. She is more reserved than before, and I do not know how to take that, especially when we are surrounded by her sisters. My own crew saw more going on between us than she has let the Arrows see. Part of me wants to just kiss her, right here, and force her to deal with whatever is going on, but I do not know what her reasons are. Besides, Suquamish has seen enough already this evening. Speaking of which...
"Meet me downstairs," I say to Suquamish. "I will tell Jax what we are doing and what to watch out for." Without waiting for a response I walk over to Jax.
"Stay dry, Belka. Stay you." Yes, I was there. Belka had gotten some wacky baccy of some kind and kept the party going. She was far too drunk than I'd prefer in my establishment, and high as a cloud. If memory recalls, she left with Toyota? I presume she rocked his world, but as long as it wasn't on the tables or the arena floor, it's not overmuch my concern.
I grab a chair and flip it round to sit, legs spread and arms a-folded on the chair back.
"I notice August and Bon have left. Anyone else want a cigarette besides me?"
Suquamish slowly heads downstairs, where Yellowhouse has tables and chairs and an actual cafe vibe. She watches you until she disappears down the stairs, as if she expects you to run off or something. Cujo's leaning back on her elbows on the picnic table, watching Suquamish like she wants to hunt the girl down.
"Bosslady, you're taking that rot now, right?" Jax says directly when you've both moved over near the roof Hope and Dog just left so you can talk more privately. "I'll keep watch over you."
“This is for your ears only, understand? Anyone you think needs to know, you tell me about it, and I will decide what to tell them.” I wait for him to indicate his assent before continuing.
“I replaced the stuff with something that will fool Suquamish. It will make me a little glassy-eyed and fuzzy-headed, but that is all. I would not take the real thing. I am telling you because I want you to know I am not that reckless. I will have to act under its influence, but I will be acting and aided by something much less potent. You should feel free to be the irritated, over-protective right hand everyone expects you to be.” I smile at that and then look him in the eye. “I rely on you and on your instincts. I also rely on your following orders, and you have never disappointed me. This party, for instance–your disapproval is plain, but you do your job. Or Cujo’s visit… I do not dismiss your advice lightly, but I know I sometimes stretch your forebearance when I go my own way. I did not want to stretch you to breaking on this Home charade.”
Jax sucks his teeth, listening, trying to keep the "irritated" look going. "Why are you playing this game with HM, Bosslady? What's the goal?" He looks into your eyes for a moment, his blue ones searching yours. "He's in Safeco now, not a direct threat to Pike."
I think, for right now, Ace and Hope they're maybe too hurt to talk. I'm not gonna force either of them.
I walk up to the cluster with SeaTac, Gates and QuePasa in it, circle the edges, like. I draw up tall, hardly thinking about it, because I know how QuePasa feels about me. It makes me kind of angry, but like in a bright way. When someone pisses you off and it makes you smile. I think of what it'd be like if we fought, because I can tell she looks at me and don't see me, but she ain't skittered.
Gates? Now, he's the interesting one. Long while back, Arrows almost settled in Pike, but his family had a claim on the squat we wanted. We tried to scare 'em off, but they stuck to it, and Gates walked out to talk to us, alone. Asked us to reconsider like we were neighbors. Just him and Rainey between two rows of our people, his legs straight and not shakin'. I'd say Father reminded me of him, but Father's pathetic and Gates isn't. Rainey told me about it later.
I look at Jax for a moment. He is not an "accept at face value" sort of guy. I carefully select a truth. "Being underestimated is always useful. If Harbormaster believes I am so unwise as to take Home and put myself under his influence..." I shrug. Fearing Jax will not be satisfied with that, since he has said Harbormaster is not a threat, I add, "He is not a man without ambition, who will live under the Admiral's roof with no plans to change his fortunes. If he thinks he has leverage with me, maybe I will get some insight into his plans."
All of that is true, so it is easy to sound believable. It is also all something Harbormaster must already suspect, so I risk merely confirming the the Witch is devious. What is also true, though, which I will not share, is that I hope that a sample of Home--or at worst, a steady supply of Home--will let Bon devise a countermeasure for it.
Why don't you Manipulate Jax to fully back your play here? On a mixed success, he'll do it, but he's going to need something to grease his palm or some assurance that you'll stick around Pike for a while.
I change my angle to include Dog and signal the bartender for another glass. On consideration, another bottle, too. "Dog, good to see you. Thanks for including me in this shindig. Reverend Gates here and me were just talking philosophy."
"Couldn't leave you out, SeaTac, glad you made it." I swig my drink, keeping Hope at my side. "Philosophy? Can't say as I'm any expert on it. I mean, I can do a little justice-talk but that's repeatin' things I heard. That counts, though, right?"
"Dog, my friend, that absolutely counts. Frankly, I'd say most of us are just repeatin' stuff we heard, tryin' to sound smart n' interestin' fer other folks. I'm Gates, by the way, this is my friend QuePasa. Good to meet you. You with... um... that gang? What're y'all called?"
Jax exhales once, through his nose, a whuff of air. "Tomorrow, when you wake up from whatever high you do or do not have, we need to meet with the raiders. There's some whacknut from the forest who lodged a complaint, and I don't want to discuss it here. But we need to talk to him. He can walk in and out of the forest, he says. I set up a meeting tomorrow, Bosslady. So, no more Admiral and HM stuff tomorrow. Right?"
"I could use a break from those two anyway," I say. "The forest should be relaxing after what we have been through the last couple days. Thank you for setting it up."
I touch his shoulder lightly as I walk past, headed for the stairs. It is a gesture of easy familiarity for some. From Dog, it would have been a clap on the shoulder. From me? I am barely able to brush his shirt with my fingertips. Still for me to touch someone at all is a sign of unusual trust and companionship. And I immediately regret it. It just highlights how bad I am at interactions that everyone else takes for granted.
Comments
SeaTac,
"Yes, sir, Mr. SeaTac" Joey says quickly, giving his mother a nod, heading off to check on Bon.
Laika sits back on her stool, an elbow on the bar. She watches Joey go like she already misses him a little, then looks over to you, "Hey SeaTac. How's Joey?" She's in good spirits, happy to be around her Arrows and her boy.
I listen to what Gates has to say, and I am glad I asked.
"That helps. It does not mean I know what to do, but it helps to have a better way to think about it. I do not know, honestly, if knowing the Admiral's guilt or innocence would affect my behavior." I say. "If he killed her, I still might not kill him." I add as if debating whether to have toast or not with my breakfast. "I am sure you would say 'revenge will not bring her back', and you would be right. I have not decided that revenge is worth the cost to me. I have not decided it is not."
I look at him a moment, pensive. "I think the biggest reason I need to know, is that if he did not kill her, I can stop hating him. I will never have a good relationship with him, but if I could just get rid of this iron lump of hate I have carried around for the last sixteen years..."
I sigh deeply. "I should visit you more often. For a man who never gives me the answers, you somehow always give me hope." Once again, I find myself in the not-so-Witch-of-Pike act of rising up on my toes and throwing my arms around Gates' neck, giving him a hug. "Thank you," I say, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
I bounce back down off my toes, shake my hair out, and straighten my coat, an exaggerated and self-deprecating pulling of myself back together. I smile. "Now. This would-be assassin of yours, the wolf who visited your flock. If you give my people a description, we can...help convince him not to do anything so rash again."
I don’t resist August when she pulls me to dance. Maybe it's the drink fuzz in my head. Maybe it's the melancholy fuzz in my heart but I let her pull me to the floor and we begin to sway together, bodies touching. By the wrathful she smells beyond amazing. That voice winds its way into my ear and carries me someplace beautiful and safe.
Being close to her does things to me. I lean against her soft shoulder, I am both entranced and acutely aware of every single point of contact between us and the heat that it kindles in me. If I had not had so much drink I would no doubt be escaping but now I only bask.
I hear Valentine’s answer to the question, finding it interesting that August and I are first on her list of people. Her reason, though, I understand well enough.
I am still half-hypnotized when August asks me whether I wish to contribute to Grunge’s initiation. I into those liquid dark eyes for a long moment. I nod and undo my outer shirt, let it slide off my shoulders, leaving me in the navy tank underneath. My names are exposed, of course, arms, chest and throat bare but for the ink, but the induction is important and… well I do not think too hard about my motivations. I turn find that Joey is nearby and ask him to take it to Rainey.
I turn back and hesitate a fraction of a second to steel myself before stepping into August’s arms, her heat, her energy once again.
"August is unbreakable." I say as we find our steps on the roof. "Changing who she is and how she is would take a lot more than that." More's to the point, more has happened to her and she came back around to herself. "She's taught me stuff I thought I'd never know, you know?"
"Cadet's great. Fast learner. If I have to tell him something twice, it's because I didn't say it right the first time. And he already gets the important things, the stuff that I'd have to borrow words to explain. That's you. With some help from your sisters, I'm guessing." I look down at cup #3, empty, look back up. "Can I buy you a drink, Laika?" That was stupid. I'm pretty sure that was stupid.
I smile when Bon makes her contribution, press my upturned lips into her neck when she returns, hands at the small of her back. My fingers move upward, trace one of the names on her shoulder. "Little Anne," I say, with an exhale. "I haven't thought of her in a long time. She wasn't an Arrow long, was she? I forget who rides her bike now. Is it Belka?"
I don't need an answer. I know Bon doesn't always like to talk about the witness she bears.
"Coming home," I end up saying. "After that time on the Leviathan. It was even more like home than I expected, you know? Having you back in the pile. I missed you, Bon." I wait. "We missed you. Just feels more right, having you back." Then I feel guilty, thinking about how strange me and Bon are sometimes. "I don't mean you have to stay, just because I like it. But I do. Dog likes it too."
Belka and Val beside us are a delight. I cast a look at Bon to make sure she's enjoying them as well.
"It's a bit like riding a bike, isn't it? You never forget how to move." I dance better when I'm a little buzzed, or maybe I'm less restrained. "Alcohol is the ultimate social lubricant."
Dog,
Hope nods, "Yeah. I know. You're her rock, Dog. Always have been." Hope steps to the edge of the slate roof, then stoops down, sits on the edge, her legs hanging off. She pats the spot next to her, looking up at you, her eyes filled with life for the first time in a while, "What should I do, Dog? I want to be my own person, but Ace thinks I need saving. It's my choice to work for HM, to work for Admiral. I don't want to ride anymore. I like... nice things. And sleeping in a bed. Does that mean I can't ever be near you? Any of you?"
SeaTac,
Laika seems a little surprised, like of all the Arrows, you're offering to get her a drink. She looks over at the old man behind the bar, "I'll take a Scotch, straight up, don't skimp. SeaTac's got it." He gives a grunt of understanding and works on the order, hunkering down for a bottle.
She turns back to you, SeaTac, "You're giving my boy a life, SeaTac. A way to survive, to earn, maybe even be happy. I should be buying you a drink, really."
Valentine,
Belka chuckles and dances close for a moment, "I've got all the lubricant I need right now, Valley." She grins, then adds, "6-cup often leaves me pretty... sauced. Hah!" She twists her hips and grabs yours for a gleeful twirl. "So, you fancy HM? That man has a spooky smile. What is it about him?"
I have a seat next to Hope, easing myself down slowly. "The life's not for everybody." I've seen enough people wash out to know it's true. "It's not that you don't want to ride, it's that none of us think the nice things you get are worth workin' with HM."
A quick sip of water. "I used to work for a man that HM reminds me a lot of. Intense. Made you listen to him, or more like you wanted to despite yourself. I don't know if I loved him or hated him. But I'd do everything he said;
'Dog I need you to make sure this man never holds holds a knife again.'
'Yes, sir!'
'Dog this fight is soft touch only but someone needs to die; remind them that justice is cruel.'
'Yes, sir!'
And I felt real powerful. In my gut I knew how out of control I was. But it would never happen to me, the dirty stuff that took out the weaker fighters. So I ignored my gut. Now, 'cause I'm such a slow learner, I got this." I tap where the split-scar on my face starts. "I got used up, no matter how good I was."
"Now, I ain't sayin' 'Oh Hope you gotta come back to us, you just don't know what you're doin'!' 'cause soak that, yes you do. But I think you need to keep your eyes open, look for what you really want and take control of that. Make us see you have that hold."
A dazzling smile, half for Belka and half for those who watch. I twirl, dip, and start a foot routine slow. I'll let her pick it up before I make it crazy. "'Fancy' is the wrong word. More like the way a predator is compelling." My smile gains a harder edge before I realize. "The only way to survive-and-thrive is to be a bigger fish. To not be prey."
I move in close, as a lover would, eyes lidded. "Who's your fancy?" I nod to the crowd.
When the barkeep straightens back up, I say. "Two glasses, and you can leave the bottle." I wait till the liquor's poured, then look back at Laika. "You must miss the boy. You can visit, you know. Might even find an errand for the cadet to run, part of the time you're visiting."
I hold my glass up for a toast. Been a while since I've felt the need to... go after a woman. Wonder how I'm coming across.
Reading Laika and Marking XP
(Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 6, 2. Total: 9)
(Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 5, 3. Total: 9)
Dog,
Hope turns as you talk, listening, engaged, nodding and wincing when you talk about what you've done to fighters. She reaches up a delicate, manicured finger to your split-scar, tracing it with the gentlest touch. "You aren't used up, Dog. You and I both know that. You're as hard as the Arrows need you to be. And you're exactly where you're needed. Where you want to be. It's beautiful." She lingers, for a moment, the intimacy of touch, of this conversation, doesn't seem to be part of a plan or a ploy.
Hope returns to your advice, "I don't know if I get to have that hold, not obvious, Dog. The ones with the jingle don't see me as much but a trophy, you know? The minute I try to take something... is the minute I put a bullseye on my head." She brings her hand back down, puts it on her lap. The place where she touched you tingles a little from the memory of it. "Can I... can I ask you a personal question, Dog? It's about August." She turns her head away, like looking at you might be too much of an imposition with the question added to it.
Valentine,
Belka flicks a glance over at the gathered Arrows, then back at you. "Grunge." Belka doesn't say it loud and proud. She continues, moving closer, her voice low, "I fancy her a flood-load, and she don't have that for me. I fought hard for her, to get gigs with us, to be around the Arrows. And now she's in. She don't need me anymore. I thought, you know, we were innit together, but I was bein' stupid." She moves back to look in your eyes, Valentine, swallows once, meets your eyes.
It will disappear in a moment, this peek behind the gilded facade that is Belka, all strong bravado and careless abandon.
SeaTac,
Laika meets the toast with a clink of glasses. She looks at you before drinking, two blinks, then takes a sip. "You sure you want to spend time with an old rider with a great kid? I'm sure there are lots of pretty Safeco and Piker girls who'd want a strong man to take care of them. That isn't what I need."
Yeah, I'm not proud of what I did there. I hold still for Hope while she touches me. "I was used up then. It took time for the beauty to come. It was hard."
I keep my eyes on hers while she explains what she can't do. She does know for real. "Yeah, I know. I know trying to get your respect makes you a target. But if you see a chance, you let me know and I'll back you up." I'd tell her I had designs on this whole thing but nah, not while there's Home to worry about.
I take a breath. "Sure, if it's mine to say." Most people don't have the courage to ask me stuff about August, this should be interesting.
"Kinda the point. You're right, if I wanted someone pretty to show off and keep on a shelf, I could probably manage. And I'd lie if I said I'd never taken a scrog in trade for a favor. You, though, I dunno... You don't need anything from me. I'd like to see what it's like, spending some time like that. Been a while."
What does Laika really want?
I shiver at the touch of August’s lips against my neck. Her fingers on my bare shoulder. I nod in response to her question about Little Anne.
“Yes, Belka has her bike now.” I say suppressing a sharp inhale, keeping my breathing even. I remember Little Anne well enough, with her big brown eyes and the look she gave me as the life slipped out of her. Not a month later I discovered how I could have saved her. “She had such hopes for her life with the Arrows.”
I am already watching Valentine and Belka dance. Concentrating on it, in fact so I am not entirely overwhelmed by the tide of the woman in my arms. August is beautiful, but Valentine has such style. It makes me smile to see them.
August speaks of how much she likes that I am in the pile again.
“I like it as well, dearest, though that is but a desperately pale description.” The truth of that is obvious as I have found myself snuggled against Dog or August in the pile more often than not. I take a breath reigning in reckelss desire. Squeeze her firmly. “The Arrows are home to me, more than anything I have ever known. I did not understand it truly until I tried to be apart and found that every step I took away, far from bringing me the peace I wished, only increased my longing.” I pause. “Coming home has done much to fill my heart again.”
Dog,
Hope smiles when you offer to back her up. It seems to calm her, she turns to look in your eyes, holds it for a moment that seems to stretch longer than it did in reality. She breaks that look before it gets too personal, and moves to her personal question. "August and you. You're together. But if she... strays, that's okay. Right? No collars. No ownership." The tone is understanding, not derisive, more like she's checking in than anything.
Her eyes meet yous again, her head tilts slightly, "If she's with Bon... what happens?"
SeaTac,
Laika exhales a sharp breath, "Are you saying I'm not pretty?" She looks at you for a moment like she's offended, but it dissolves into the joke she was playing, just for a moment. "Hell, SeaTac. I don't know if I've ever spent time with somebody like that. At least not since I became an Arrow, and that was... well, a long time ago." She takes a long drink from her glass, but doesn't finish it. "I'd like that. At least to give it a shot, yeah?"
Laika wants to make sure her son has a good life, SeaTac. She wants to see what life you're giving him, more than just her hopes and the snatches of what she's found out about you. She'd like to learn more about you, more than her "gut feeling" that you'd do right by Joey. She trusts you, don't mistake that. But her head needs to catch up with the rest of her.
She wouldn't mind being something other than "the one with a kid" around someone, too.
When Bon squeezes me, it's like a brick of C4 went off in my spine. "Your ... longing," I repeat the words against her mouth. With anyone else, I'd say more. Let's get out of here. But with Bon, that feels too ... coarse. I'm afraid she'd say no.
And if I'm really honest with myself, I'm not used to anyone saying no to me.
I feel paralyzed, like it's all I can do to keep breathing.
Gates and Vignette,
Jax leans in to add to Vignette's assurances, "We're used to dealing with wolves, Gates."
Thank you for your offer, Mister Jax," QuePasa interjects. "We're more than capable of handing some rabble-rouser. We don't need Pike Boys coming into the House of the Almighty to spill blood on our account."
I know she was joking, but, "Pretty's a pale word, Laika, and not much of a compliment. We'll see if I can come up with a better one for you. For now, though..." I take a deep drink of my scotch, then grab the bottle and top us both off. "Let's enjoy this hooch and chat a few, maybe trade a few questions. You can even start, if you want."
SeaTac,
You catch sight of Joey as he grabs a perch near Ace, who's gone back to sit down as the other Arrows are messing with Grunge. He's watching Grunge, because well, mostly naked pretty girl, but it's also something he knows is important, too. But he's there to sign with Ace a bit, while Cujo's busy.
"How did you get into your thing, SeaTac?" Laika asks, followed by a drink to give you some time to think on it.
"Right, I mean, stray isn't even the word.." I scratch behind one of my ears, not sure how to dig deeper into what I mean.
I stop scratching and let my arm ease down as she looks me in the eyes again. "With Bon?" I look over at the dancing goin' on. My, they are close. I can see why Hope's brought it up. "I dunno. Bon's been really unhappy for a long time, though, it'd be nice to see her let someone in. Might be uhh.." I snap my fingers. "..dramatic? We'll see."
Now, I know Hope is really asking 'What if August leaves you for Bon?' but that's a question that doesn't fit our shape together, or how we both love. August and me, we need each other at times and in different ways and we like being close and talking skins and we have history. I can't be teaching everyone who doesn't get it what 'no ownership' means.
I take a sip myself. "Born into it, near enough. Don't know who my parents were, but by the time I had words I was in the loving arms of the Unit. Everything was training, pretty much. Realized later even the games were." I look down at my hands. Nail on my left index finger's cracked. "But they taught me to read and write, how to handle myself, how to respect authority and when to buck it. Family, really." Shaking my head, I continue. "They're gone now. All of them."
Dog,
Hope's eyes blink when you snap your fingers. She nods, once, "Bon is dramatic, that's for sure.""It is nice to see her relax." She looks back at you, "What about you? Dog, what do you need?" She inclines her head again, peering up into your eyes.
Her tone isn't some come on, it's a genuine question from curiosity, from concern. "You're always checking in on the Arrows, running this way and that. Saving them. Making sure they have what they need. But what about you, Dog?" Her hand reaches over to touch your knee.
What do you do?
“I am sure you can handle things,” I say to QuePasa. “And we would not spill blood in one of your places of worship. The offer was more one of delivering him to you…or to simply make him ‘go away’.” As I say this last I look up, raise my hands, and wriggle my fingers as if letting the breeze blow something from my fingers.
I might also provide some insight into what he is up to, if I were to have a quiet conversation with him."
I look at Hope and listen to her question. Tilt my head. That's a stumper. Over Pike's Place you can see little fires here and there, and stars are all up above in their arrangement, but the night is dark. I look back to the party, check on the initiation, the conversations that are still goin', the dancing. I smile at her.
"You worried I'm burnin' myself out? But you know, Hope, I need to do right by my Arrows. That's what makes me happy. It ain't always pleasant or easy, but I got all I need. If I come up a little short on anything else, that never lasts."
Sure I got designs on things, stuff I'd like to see get better. But I keep moving and point forward. "..I miss Marmaduke, though."
Dog,
"Dog," Hope says softly, "You always do right by your Arrows. But, you aren't "anything else". You need to be a little selfish once in a while. You don't want to resent them, right? I promise you, at some point, if you don't do something just for you, one day you will." She squeezes your knee lightly. "I miss her, too. But you're switching subjects. Tell me... what's something you want, just for you?" She looks up at you like you're the most important person in the world.
SeaTac,
"That's rough." Laika says out of respect. "We lose Arrows in dribs and drabs. I could never imagine all of them gone. At least, I wouldn't want to." She looks over at Grunge, who is half dressed in mismatches Arrow clothing, and now mostly bald. Laika laughs at her predicament, even the blue scalp she's sporting from the hair dye. She looks back at you, "You making a new Unit? With Joey?"
And here then is the precipice. August stills in my arms, whispers against my lips, and I am certain my loosened tongue, intoxicated by her even more than the shine, has led me astray. Never once have I seen August hesitate to engage someone she desired.
I swallow. The slightest shadow-sting of earlier bile burning in my throat. I turn my face to the side a moment to breathe. I see Dog in her conversation with Hope. She sits, steady and strong and caring… raising another sense of bewilderment to compound the first. Why, by the flood, did no one ever tell me how any of this works? I catch sight of Cujo and remember her words after my advice that day in the forest to tell Vignette how she feels.
“This means you must do the same for August… It’s only fair, Bon.”
It is, in fact, the only cure I have not tried.
I turn back to August, my eyes down as I steady my nerve. My stomach flutters in a new way. I bite my lip a moment, then finally nod. My voice low.
“Yes, longing.” I say, voice quiet and surprisingly even. “For the Arrows. For home…” I look up to her eyes with a small smile that feels bittersweet. I touch her cheek gently, feeling the step off into the void.
“For you.”
My knees turn to water, just for a moment, then I'm laughing deep in my throat. I stop the pretense of dancing. Hands slide back up Bon's spine, over her shoulders, to pull her closer to me. Not just words now, but a real kiss, urgent and searching, teeth plucking gently at her lips.
"Let's get out of here," I finally say.
"It is no easy thing when one's affections are not returned." I'm aware that something more is happening on the dance floor near to us, but it's rude to stare. "Are you certain that's the whole of it? Is this a thing that needs time and tending?"
Everyone loves to talk to the bartender. I consider what I know of Grunge from her time at SafeCo and the Yacht Club.
I mull that one over.
"Well, weasly lookin' fella warin' a robe. New here, I think. No one had seen him before. Don't know that I want anythin' befallin' him, but if you kept an eye out, that would certainly be helpful. Now if you'll excuse me, I might go say hi to Val. But do come by whenever you want, friend, it's always good to see you."
"Not making a new Unit, no. That'd be more like starting a new Safeco or Pike. Too many moving parts. Only thing I plan on doing with Joey is teaching him as much as I can before some rotter gets lucky and takes me out. I'll let him worry about dreams."
SeaTac,
Laika nods like that's a wise and generous thing. She takes another drink, leans back and asks with a hint of a smile, "Why the moustache?"
I hold up a hand. "Whoa. I think you're forgetting we're supposed to trade questions." I give it some thought, long enough for a sip. "You ever think about what comes next? I know Zeus is still an Arrow, but do you plan on going out in the saddle, or finding some other kind of life to move into?" I'll come back to the mustache.
Getting this kind of attention from Hope is confusing. I can't think of anything I really want that I wouldn't share. I lean away from Hope a little under that look, then lean back and let my shoulders hit the roof with a thump. The sky is real pretty, even if there's some clouds in the way.
Now, I remember Zeus saying that one time, or maybe it was bunches of times, people walked on the moon with funny suits and big machines. I'm not sure I believe her like with my mind, but in my heart I do.
"Well...Belka owes me a meal from Yacht Club, and I ain't forgotten. And my bear's gettin' all patchy, maybe I can find a stuffy lion. OH, and I wanna play tire tag soon. When everybody's healed up."
I breathe in and out slow and even, kinda thinkin'. "I guess if I'm dreamin' real big I'd love to know how to read, but every time I try it's bad and I feel real stupid."
SeaTac,
Calling her on the question trade gets a wry grin, like "you got me". She takes a sip before replying, "S'funny, SeaTac. I've been so focused on Joey for so long, that now I feel like he's starting off on his own path, I've been wondering what's next. And well, I don't exactly know. I love my sisters, they're all I've known for years. But I don't see myself riding forever." She takes a sip, brightens a little, "Don't tell any of the Arrows or I'll never get out of it, but I like cooking. Mostly soup, which is boring, I know. But some time off the road, with some good food to cook, I could do that. You know, for people." She trails off, it isn't a finished thought, and it's pretty obvious she hasn't said it aloud before.
"So... about the moustache?" Laika redirects.
As Gates takes his leave, I look out over the crowd. It is nice having the Arrows here, though I am still on their periphery. I missed them.
My gaze sweeps across the room. Ah, Bon. I should talk to her about Home--wait...maybe not just now. Bon looks...uninterruptible. My mind was instinctively reaching out, and I pull it back like pulling my hand back from a hot stove. I do not want to get caught in the wake of that.
Laika and SeaTac are talking, no doubt about Joey. Valentine and Belka are dancing. I do not see Dog, though I sense her nearby.
My gaze snags on Ace and Cujo, still over at one of the tables. Just as quickly my eyes dart away, not wanting to seem like I am looking at Cujo. I am looking-not-looking at Cujo as I continue to assess the room. I do have a legitimate reason to talk to Ace--it is not all about Cujo. I spoke to Hope earlier, learned a little of her frustration--triggered it a bit, in fact. So, I have every reason to go over there--to talk to Ace, not Cujo. Yes, that is what I will do unless something else intervenes.
I should drink the vial of False Home in front of Suquamish before someone throws her off the roof. Maybe it would be good to be a little more relaxed before talking to...Ace. But I cannot talk to her about Hope and appear to be under the influence of Home. I mean, that is what I am there for--to talk to Ace about Hope.
I chuckle. "So the queen of soup wants to know about my soup strainer? Truth is, in the Unit, back when I was Pyle and not SeaTac, we kept things tidy. Short-short hair, clean shave. But old One-Eye, he had a picture up next to his bunk, from the before, of some guy named Sheik Yerbouti. Never did ask him about it, but I thought the mustache was about the driest thing I'd seen, when I was a kid." I shrug. "So, when I didn't need to be regulation anymore, I gave it a shot, then decided I liked it, so it stayed."
Valentine,
Belka's shoulders slump a little as she slows down her dance. Her hands are on your sides, her dance has become more of a side to side shuffle as she struggles to express an answer. "Flood me, I don't know if time will do anything. I threw myself at her, Valley. And yeah, we scrogged a few times, but after a while I realized she's just marking time, you know?" Her eyes well up a bit and she moves forward to push her head to your shoulder, "It's soaked. But I still hope she's happy bein' an Arrow."
Vignette,
You come up to the table where Cujo is sitting with Ace. Cujo's on the bench, while Ace is on the top of the table, leaning back on her hands. They both look up at you. Neither sign, but there's a softness in Cujo's eyes, like maybe she'd like to say something. But no. No words. Behind them, over by Grunge, Rainey lets out a big guffaw and Grunge slips past her and runs over to the bar, jumping up and dancing around with Bon's shirt around her like a skirt and Hachiko's socks around her neck like a scarf. Grunge runs for the bar, then climbs up on it, shaking and laughing like crazy.
Joey's standing nearby, he was signing with both of them. He offers, "Hey Vignette, did you want me to, you know, translate?" He seems to intuit that you want to talk to them.
If you let Joey translate, then converse with Ace and Ace will respond via sign and Jeoy will speak for her.
What do you do?
I take my leave of Vignette thinking about the situation she's in. Poor thing. Must be rough to have to...
My thoughts are interrupted as I nearly bump into a rough lookin' fella.
"Sorry about that, friend. I was a bit lost in thought. You're SeaTac, ain't ya? I've seen you around from time to time. Name's Gates. This is my friend QuePasa. We stay over at Pike. And if I may, from one hirsute fella to another, that's a well-kept mustache you have there. Ain't always easy to get somethin' lookin' that dry, I can tell you from experience.
I feel the chill I was intending to exude melt a little at softness in Cujo's eyes. I am momentarily stalled, forgetting that I did not come over here to talk to Cujo. Joey's voice breaks the silence, offering to translate.
"That would be nice, Joey. Thank you." And with that, I take a seat across from Cujo and Ace with a graceful, icy calm. Or that was my intent.
What really happened was that, flustered and blushing from my too-long eye contact with Cujo and my too-late recalling that Ace is deaf, I attempt to casually throw a leg over a bench to sit down, but the heel of my boot catches on the bench seat. I lurch forward, elbows and forearms coming down hard on the table, white-gold hair spilling forward across its surface, encountering unattended drinks and spills. I have a moment to groan inwardly before the second round hits--the traitorous bench slides down my calf to land on its side with a crash that seems to echo across the roof. I snort with something equal parts humor, humiliation, and frustration. Then, with as much dignity as I can muster--which is not a lot--I unhurriedly right the bench and sit. My hair is disheveled and wet in spots, and bruises are practically blossoming on my porcelain white forearms as I watch. Despite this, I leave my hands on the table. They are delicate and slim-fingered, devoid of the scars and scuffs of an Arrow's hands, especially one Arrow's hands.
I turn to Joey to translate. "I have been practicing. Maybe once I have mastered the bench, Dog will teach me to ride an h-bike."
I can't help but chuckle. "Matter of fact, Reverend Gates, Laika here and I were just discussing mustaches. Pleasure to meet you for real finally, and you, QuePasa. This here's Laika, she's an Arrow. Her son Joey's my cadet... trainee, you might say."
Vignette,
Ace bursts out laughing, which is an odd sound, loud and has a choking sound to it. She makes this sound like "Hooooo!" and slaps the table loudly. A few of the Arrows look over from the bar where they'd chased Grunge, but Ace is ok. You catch Hope looking over with a startled expression, but then you're talking with Joey.
Joey translates and Ace snorts again. You feel a hand on yours, look to see Cujo's with a cracked nail and bruised knuckles. With strong hands, she helps pull you up, even though you didn't need it. Her hands on your arms, she looks at you. There's a little upturn of the corner of her mouth. She didn't laugh when you fell, but maybe she's amused.
"Uhm, Miss Vignette." Joey says and you hear just barely. "Ace says Cujo's claimed that honor. It's... it's a pretty big thing."
What do you do?
Gates and SeaTac,
Laika gives you a head nod of greeting, Gates. "Hey there, Preacher Man." She raises her glass to you and QuePasa both.
"Well met, Mr. SeaTac." QuePasa says in greeting. "Hello to you, Laika." Laika nods.
"Good to meet you all. So what, can I ask, are ya trainin' Joey in?"
"That might be a bigger question than you think. Teaching him what I do. How to be a soldier without an army. Make sense?" I gesture to the half-full bottle. "Paid for the bottle, would you folks care for a bit of whiskey? They call it scotch, but all I can guarantee is it's brown and strong and it hasn't killed me yet."
I am recovering my dignity along with my seat--the latter far easier than the former--when I feel Cujo's hands helping me up. I am looking at her almost-smile, and I almost miss Joey's translation of Ace. I am taken aback. Cujo could not have claimed that right without at least some raised eyebrows. Maybe it was bravado. I am sure teaching me to ride is not thought to be the safest assignment. One would have to ride with me, and I do not exude athleticism like most of the Arrows. One would also have to endure the "Witch's touch", which bears a stigma not completely undeserved.
My eyes flick between Ace and Cujo. "Please tell Ace that I talked to Hope about leaving Harbormaster and about the drug, Home." I say to Joey. "Hope knows she has options, but she is very sensitive to people telling her what to do--like all you Arrows," I add, hoping to soften it. "I wanted to buy her freedom from the Admiral or from Harbormaster, but my interference offended her. I am telling you this so maybe, if you talk to her, you avoid the holes I have stepped in."
I pause for a moment, remembering the determination in Hope's eyes. "She is stronger than she appears... If I can help in any way, if she needs a path other than returning to the Arrows, please let me help."
I do not mention the sample of Home that I got for Bon. No need to raise hopes or risk word getting back to Harbormaster.
She pulls me in and my own passion rises to meet hers. In the tiniest corner of my mind, the only portion not entirely subsumed by the sensation of her or the emotion filling my being, I think vaguely that I must revise my notion of the nature of kisses. This thought persists only a moment before it too is overrun with the tidal wave and I lose any sense of anything that is not me or her.
We break and I find myself breathless and flushed. And it is only now that I have any room to be both elated and terrified by the power of it. I stagger, dizzy again. Is this the effect on all who she kisses? It takes me a moment to understand what she asks.
Get out of here… together. Go somewhere to… to be alone. Alone with her.
I open and close my mouth, searching for words. I glance around the room, suddenly concious of the spectacle we must have presented, and noting the new arrivals and seeming lack of interest from all. Our embrace must have been well noted and of some duration. I feel my face heat more. I look at Dog out on the roof for a long moment, finding my previous excuses hollow. Then I look at August again and finally nod in agreement.
Vignette,
Joey dutifully signs your message while Cujo's still holding your arms. Cujo lets go, realizing you're up, you are capable of taking care of yourself. You realize Suquamish has noted that moment, filed it away.
Ace's face breaks from mirth to a scowl. She hastily and violently signs back at Joey, eyes darting to glare at Hope. You catch a few signs that you've seen before, when Arrows in the pile have made jokes about Millions in the past, a couple about your father, but you were smart to keep quiet about that, of course.
Joey licks his lips, blinking and turning to translate back to you, "Ace says that, uhm, Hope isn't an Arrow. She sold her, ah, her self for a leg she doesn't ride with and a drug that makes her.... make bad choices. And she's, well, Ace is saying she doesn't want her back. She gave little sister a chance," This pains Joey to repeat, "And Hope's just here to make Ace mad now. And," Joey's eyes widen, "Hope better leave quick quick, or Ace is gonna..." He signs back at Ace, repeating his signs aloud, "No Ace, you are not going to soaking shoot her!" He stops, looks back at you, then offers a weak grin. "Uhm... anything else, Miss Vignette?" Cujo's shaking her head, but it's like she knew it was coming from Ace, not that you did anything wrong.
Dog,
Hope looks over at Ace for a long moment, watching her sign to Joey and Vignette. Her face falls a bit, and she closes her eyes, seems to withdraw from the conversation. Like she doesn't want to see Ace talking, she lays down on the roof beside you, looking up at the same stars. Her voice sounds a little reedy, "Well. Joey told me he's learning to read from SeaTac. Said he's a real patient teacher. Or... well, I could teach you. But you'd have to come up to Safeco. We could learn in Admiral's place, it's quiet." She turns her face away from you and the Arrows, like something else caught her attention. But you know nothing did.
What do you do?
Valentine,
Why don't you roll Everyone Eats?
[OOC: Everyone Eats, roll+hot.]
(Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 5, 3. Total: 11)
I regard SeaTac as he tells me all this. "Sure, friend, I'll have a drop o' whisky. And I think I heard a little bit in the past about yer solderin'. Can't rightly remember where, but word gets around. How'd you get into that sort o' thing?"
I laugh again as I signal for two more glasses, then put a hand on Laika's shoulder to share the moment with her. "Mustaches and history... seems I've already covered a lot of ground tonight with Laika. I won't bore you with a recap, Laika, promise." Attention back fully on Gates, I go on. "Long story, and you're welcome to it someday. Let's just say I was raised to it." I know the polite thing might be to ask the same sorta question back, but I don't really need to know. Something else on my mind. "I hear a lotta stories about you, Gates. 'Signs and portents,' Sarge woulda called them, all sorta things about your people fixing things that shouldn'ta been fixable, working past when normal folk would've dropped. Some drunk at Swill's said she saw you walk right through the rain without getting wet. Do you reckon some of them are true?"
[OOC: Everyone Eats on Grunge.
how are they doing? what’s up with them?
what or who do they love best?
how could I get to them, physically or emotionally?
I'm pulling Bon towards the door, giving her Dog's jacket to throw around her shoulders, since Bon gave hers to Grunge.
::Back at the pile later.:: I sign to Belka so someone knows what's up. Dog and Hope went off somewhere.
We'll be riding my bike. Which used to be her bike. I lean her against it before we hop on, kiss her again. Hard. This feels good.
"My place ... or yours?" Grindhouse is what I mean. I can go back to that room I shared with Millions before everything went red. Or her clinic, I guess. She's got somewhere private to kip there, right?
I laugh out loud at that last one.
"If I ever've walked through the rain and not got all wet it's because I was holdin' an umbrella. That's how these things, go, though. Some folks tend to accumulate stories around 'em like pipes gatherin' rust and I'm one of 'em. Tell ya what, I once knew a fella who chased some hooligans out o' a bar he was tendin' by wavin' a big stick at 'em. When I heard someone tell the story third hand the next day, he weren't carryin' a stick but a darn sword. But he was jus' that kinda fella. The kind where someone says he done chased folks with a sword and you believe 'em."
I sip my drink.
"Now the other stuff, fixin' things that shouldn'ta been fixable? That I certainly hope we're guilty as charged, on. It ain't no real mystery, though. We're hard workers, we look out fer each other, and we got the fire o' the Lord in our hearts. The rest is jus' elbow grease."
I glance around the room at Val, Vignette, and Bon.
"Seems we got lots o' those types here, though. Folks that stories grow on. Even you, SeaTac. I heard things about you. Yer dangerous, yer a killer, yer a hero. Heard you once shot a man right between the eyes in almost pitch black from 100 yards away because you got the slightest glint off o' his teeth."
A conspiratorial pause.
"Heard you were one o' the point folks for the boat raid. Don't know much about it. Want to tell me what that was all about?"
A hundred yards? That's almost an insult, but I don't like to brag. "I was there, took care of some of the problems. They were a threat, we eliminated it." I think for a second about what's mine to tell, pour some liquor in the two empty glasses the bartender finally brought. Hand one to Gates, make the offer to QuePasa with a raised eyebrow. "I kinda stumbled across the whole mess. That boat was what took out the harbor, and I was reconnoitering on Admiral's dime. Storyteller was already there, caught up somehow that I never got clear on." I shrug. "I did what I do. Some protecting, some killing, some just plain blowing things up." I'm still kinda proud of that shot on the mortar, but I'm not going to say that.
I know Laika wasn't there, on the boat, but I feel like I should add something because it's true. "The Arrows are a tight outfit. Good fighters, and they take care of each other. Valentine and Bon, they were there, too... that made a big difference. I had the easy road."
Valentine,
Grunge Q&A:
how are they doing? what’s up with them?
Tonight might be the best night of Grunge's life. She's wanted to be an Arrow for a long time, and now, she is one. She is planning on getting stupid drunk and high, and sleeping in the damned middle of the pile tonight, clad in whatever Arrow clothing she still has left.
what or who do they love best?
Grunge thinks Dog is the most amazing person she's ever met. She admires how tough she is, how direct, how in control. She wants to be like Dog. Have the Arrows look up to her like that, to lead them into battle, to party with them after.
how could I get to them, physically or emotionally?
Threatening her position with the Arrows would be the most direct. She hasn't exactly left Admiral's Inside Gang, and that could become a problem, if you put the word in the right ear.
Making her look bad in Dog's eyes would be even worse, though. She really wants to impress her.
Gates and SeaTac,
"Soak that." Laika interjects. "SeaTac was a one-man army. That boat was raining hell on us, and he took down their big guns, from the shore. So far a shot I couldn't even see what they were shooting at us." She drains her glass, reaches for the bottle to pour a finger more.
"And you're teaching that young boy how to kill. And how to blow things up?" QuePasa asks with not a little bite to her tone. She waves off the glass of scotch offered to her.
I catch that look, that sound in her voice. Think I'm gonna stick with Hope a while.
"I'm up in SafeCo pretty often as it is, Hope. Could be good to have both of you helpin' me out, since it's such trouble and you and SeaTac both got stuff you do. I'll probl'y slow down Joey's learnin' it." I pat Hope's leg with a chuckle in my throat.
After a pause, I go on in a more quiet voice. "I'll come with you to talk with Ace. We ain't got to go just now."
"Oh." I go back to a normal voice. "Hey, Hope, I wanna tell you another story."
"Did you know I used to run away from the Arrows, when I was new? I wouldn't steal a bike 'cause I wasn't that stupid, but if nobody had an eye on me, if Nana didn't tell me 'Watch this soakin' spot, Guard Dog', I was gone." I raise my arms and gesture out bits of the story, a fleeing hand and a watchful one.
"I wasn't 'in' yet, I was like Nana's project, so Nana might come get me, or Rainey would find me I weren't back in like..two-three days. Maybe. It wasn't a thing to anybody. It was easy to run and come back before anyone minded." My hands come back together.
"But one day Bon got wicked mad at me for it. She just tore me a new one with that voice'a hers and I could not believe it. Nothing I said cooled her off. It was worse than an ass-kicking."
I meet QuePasa's eyes, completely honest. "Yes. I am. And how to protect. And when to kill, when to blow things up. And why. That boat? It was nothing but a death from out of the red, and if you don't think someone needs to be ready to handle that, now and for the future, well, God bless you. Seems to me I read once 'A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up.' That about covers it, I think."
Dog’s jacket is some kind of odd congruence. I stroke it nervously with the hand that is not in August’s as I follow her away from Yellowhouse and to her bike. She favors me with another one of those kisses that has me on the edge of delirium, making little breathless noises into her mouth.
“Yours” I breathe when she asks me where to go, not knowing where it is exactly she speaks of. Mox, Shy and Decatur at the clinic, not to mention my patients… well it would not be ideal just now. In truth it does not matter. I might have begged a favor from Valentine had I known what I would be doing.
What I will be…
We are on the bike, my arms wrapped around her, when the first real wave of nerves hits me. My understanding of this… this area of… uh… endeavor is, honestly, entirely intellectual. I understand the mechanisms involved well enough but… well I have simply never made time for this sort of thing. My upbringing, and my long mourning of Nee robbed me of any desire to bring someone this close.
She will think me ridiculous.
And what of her hesitation before? Was it her excessive respect for me. Does she understand how I feel or is it merely friendliness and physical desire? Or does she feel some obligation to me because of my feelings?
My analytical mind, now only slightly dulled by the alcohol, can make nothing of these questions. My own machine, on the other hand, seems remarkably indifferent to my quandry, intent instead on its cravings.
I hold up my hands. "Do not shoot me...but you and Hope are more alike than you know. She reacted very much the same way when I offered her help, though...not so much shooting talk."
I shake my head and get up to leave. "I will not presume to counsel you on your sister, but I will tell you what I think of her. You are right--she is not an Arrow. But she is also stronger than I imagined. She may be lost and wandering, but she knows herself and guards her free will fiercely. She has a perspective that I do not understand, but I think it is her own. I do not think she is here to upset you."
I trail off, not wanting to push Ace too far. "I hope you do not shoot her. There is still very much Hope left."
I glance at Cujo before I leave, pressing my lips together in an acknowledgment that is not quite a smile.
"Joey, thank you for translating," I say with a nod to the boy.
By now, I have caught sight of Hope with Dog, and even with my senses pulled back, I could not have missed the conflagration surrounding Bon and August as they left.
Suquamish is marginally safer with August gone, which makes it less likely that I will have to explain to Harbormaster how she was killed. I think I will keep her away from Ace as well...
"Belka, sugar, let me tell you what I'd do, in your boots. Grunge is on top of the world right now, just look at her elation, at her celebration, at her inebriation upon becoming an Arrow." I nod with my chin and do us a slow turn to change her line of sight. "Ask her again while she's at her apex, when her guard is down and she's feeling lubricated." I punctuate that with a wry twist of my lips. "You may get a fresh answer. Or if it's the same answer, then you know it's honest and true, as much as it might hurt."
I do a long sliding step and lead Belka along; I feel this tune is nearly done, maybe. "You can't have unrequited feelings eat at you, dear. It's bad for the soul and bad for your tribe of Arrows." I'll kiss her cheek as we're cheek-to-cheek.
It's a total pain in the ass when your employees are moon-eyed, or worse yet — half-moon-eyed, at each other. I feel for Dog.
Dog,
Hope doesn't answer about talking to Ace, but she heard you. Probably thinking it through, a bit skittered to put you in the middle of things. Your story though, it pulls Hope out of her funk a little. She rolls over to her side to face you, and the thought of Bon yelling at you puts an amused crinkle on her soft lips.
"Yeah.... Bon's never gotten mad at me. I don't know what I'd do." She stops talking to watch as August and Bon leave together. There's a curiosity in her eyes about that. She doesn't look down at you for a few moments, "I've made Shy mad a bunch of times. She's really sweet, but she doesn't get why I left. The Arrows. She wants to ride so bad."
Hope licks her lips like she's working herself up to say something. After a beat, in a quiet voice, she says, "You know I love you. All of you. I just don't want that life. And HM's bad to people who are bad to him, you know? He's been real good to me. Admiral, too, if you believe it. And... I get a little spaced out on some, well, drugs, sometimes. But the Arrows get drunk all the time, smoke up, all kinds of stuff. I don't know why Ace sees different. I don't..." Words falter, she licks her lips, rolls back to lie under the stars. "I'm sorry, Dog. I didn't mean to put you in the middle. I just wanted to see my sisters." She moves her hand over, slips it into yours. Her fingers are delicate, nails manicured, soft and clean. So unlike yours, right? How does that feel?
After a few moments, she asks curiously, "Your first name's Guard?"
What do you do?
Vignette,
Joey signs your words to Ace. at a couple points, Ace looks away, trying to ignore Joey, scoffing your support of Hope. Joey nudges Ace's arm, and moves around to stay in her field of vision. It's insistent without being forceful. At the end, Ace signs back something short.
Joey swallows, nods once, then tells you, "Ace thinks you throw heart after the wrong things, but you're in the pile, so she won't shoot you." That's when you notice Cujo's eyes have grown hard. She's not happy with Ace right now, but she's not going to confront her here. Joey turns a little so you're seeing him, but Ace can't, and adds, "She's... she's lashing out right now. And she's banged up pretty bad, too. I think she heard you. I... I'm really proud that you stood up for Hope, Vignette." He offers a little smile.
"Mistress of Pike," Suquamish says quiet and low against your right ear as she moves close. "You did your good deed for the night, yeah? This is a mighty nice party, you know. Maybe we take care of the thing you promised you'd do days ago? It's the perfect time."
What do you do?
"Thank you, Joey. I am honored by your opinion of me. I love Hope...I do not know why. I did immediately. She seemed so precious, so fragile...like something that should be protected. But I was not lying to Ace when I said that Hope is made of stronger stuff. I will do anything I can for her, but I will no longer presume to know what is good for her. She may have life more figured out than I do." I smile sheepishly.
"Suquamish," I say in greeting, with a nod and a smile of completely feigned warmth. You might think I would be very good at this, constantly skimming across the streams of thought flowing around me. I am not. Mostly, people find my false smiles uncanny and disquieting. For all that I observe about people, I do not understand them well, I am not entirely like them. This is an asset as the Witch of Pike...isolating as Vignette.
"Yes. I suppose this is the right atmosphere," I reply. It is not, at all. I feel like I have unfinished business with Cujo, and I do not want the Arrows to see me under the influence of this stuff. Better now, though, than before talking to Ace. And honestly, I want to get rid of Suquamish, and this is the only way to do it--especially with August no longer around to stab her.
"I just need a few words with Jax, to make sure he is prepared to handle any Pike business, if necessary, while I am...at Home," I say to Suquamish. Without waiting for a response, I turn to leave, intending to stride to Jax. Then, something Joey said strikes me.
"Wait," I say, turning back to Joey. "What does she mean 'I am in the pile'?"
Gates and SeaTac,
QuePasa listens like she's looking for a weak spot, but at the end, she simply nods curtly. "It's a hard world." It seems like an agreement, but maybe not.
Grunge comes dancing over, still on the bar, and playfully pushes at Laika's head with her foot.
Laika turns around, and looks up at her, "When are you taking your Arrow name, Grunge?" That stymies Grunge for a bit, and she looks around.
The gathered Arrows all laugh, and Rainey reaches up to smack Grunge on her mostly naked ass.
I think about the conversation that QuePasa and SeaTac are havin'. She's tryin' to find somethin' wrong in how he's talkin' because she's tryin' to kill that part o' herself.
"Y'ain't wrong, QuePasa. It's a hard world. So SeaTac's got the right of it. Someone's gotta do it. And y'ain't wrong, SeaTac. The word o' the Lord does say all that. Time to kill, time to heal, all that."
Looking up, I meet his gaze directly. Not aggressive, just knowing.
"Yet I always wonder when folks say that, what's the endgame? Iff'n we're going to be destroyin' and killin' cause the Lord said there's a time fer that, what's the ultimate goal? I think when you take the Lord's words together, you see that that He don't rule out that possibility, after all, He says He came to bring a sword and turn folk against each other. But His overall message is 'Blessed are the peacemakers, they're the ones that'll be in charge when things are all set right.' I guess what I'm sayin' is I worry that it's easy to see violence as a means to an end, but then before you know it, the devil gets in ya and it becomes an end in and of itself. You hearin' me? How do you find you know the difference in yer line a work?"
"Awh, Shy does want it bad. I've told her she needs to work on learning to ride and shoot, and scrounge up a bike. I don't want a red-painted ride for her." Shy has a little puppy version of her aunt's temper, it's cute.
Hope's hand is small in mine, soft. I keep my hands clean, keep my nails real short so's to keep the grottiness out. I don't like having red under my nails. It can go a lot of places from there. Otherwise my hands are a lot like the rest of me, hard, old nicks of scars, unfancy tattoos. Strong and clever. I give her hand a soft squeeze and watch as Hope talks.
It's good to hear that HM and Admiral have been good to her. But there's a warning that swells in me, of the anger before anger. Anger and me are old pals, so I know how to make it wait.
I'm mulling over her words when she asks me about my name. "My first name was Mad, and then Nana called me Guard and now I'm just Dog." I ain't gonna explain where the Mad came from.
After a breath, "I love you, too. We all do, you're precious to us. Some of us, we think Arrow life is the only good life because it's the only good one we've had. But we want to see you, too. I'll get between over that. And you know..I almost had to kick Belka's ass because she was smokin' more than ridin' last week."
Dog,
Hope keeps hold of your hand when you explain your name, squeezes back when you say your name was Mad, but doesn't pry. At the end, she nods, "Belka got kicked out of Yacht Club, went down to Swill's. She was really, uhm, living it up. Partying like it was rebellion. She looked a little lost, and a little stupid. I'm glad she's back with the Arrows..." There's an unspoken "but" in there. Hope doesn't finish the thought.
"I shouldn't steal you away while Grunge is coming into the Arrows, right? You want to go? It's ok. I should head back before it gets too dark." She sits up.
What do you do?
I smile. "You see, that's why I don't much try to justify what I do. Everything's slippery when you look at it too close. I'm not saying there ain't been days when I killed for jingle, pure and simple, just to get food in my belly or what-have-you, and sometimes it's a joy just to be good at something." I look down into my glass, thinking, then take a sip. "Seems to me in the end, though, power's power, whatever the line of work. Rumors or no, you've got people that would like as not take a dip in the reddest pond if you asked, I think. That's good when you're drawing 'em forward, making something, but it wouldn't be so good if you started enjoying the control for its own sake, would it? How do we tell the difference, you and I, between enough and too much?"
Valentine,
Belka nods, follows you off the dance floor. She starts her swagger, gives a nod. "You're right, Valley. I've got it. No worries!"
Hey Valentine. Why was it that Belka was kicked out of Yacht Club last week? Were you there?
Vignette,
Joey does this sort of shrug like "how do I explain this?". He offers, "You've been invited into the pile. By Dog, no less. So, it's like, you're kind of an Arrow. Like I used to be. It gives you some serious protection." He turns his head to look back at Dog and Hope. "Hope's not one of uh... of them anymore."
"Let's walk back to the party together. See some faces." I stand up and offer Hope a hand. "It's been nice, talking." I don't want Hope to walk back to SafeCo by herself, but SeaTac and Joey are still around. Should work out.
"And you know," I say while we're picking our way back, "I could just as like have Hachiko or Rainey do Grunge's scary oath ride." Just in case she feels enough courage to talk to her sis. If Ace makes gun-eyes at Hope..
Dog,
Hope takes your hand, lets you pull her to her dainty feet. You both walk back over the roof to join the crowd. With Grindhouse entertainers and Arrows and Pikers, the place is a crowd. Belka's pulling some folks over for more 6-cup, Zeus and Winnie are headed back to the hideout. Chance is up on the bar dancing with Grunge. They're trading shots and laughing while Rainey, Lika, and Hachiko hoot and holler.
August and Bon are gone already, as you know. Gates and SeaTac are talking, with that fussy QuePasa nearby. Vignette is chatting with Joey and sort of Ace, but Cujo's right there, watching everything, mad about... well, being Cujo.
Hope's still holding your hand, letting you guide her, sort of protecting her. Just in case.
Where do you head?
"Well, friend, that's a really good question."
I think about what SeaTac asked, hard, for a second.
"I truly believe, sir, that outcomes matter. One can take a hard action, but if it makes the world better, like by reducin' other folks sufferin', then I think you can make an argument for that hard action. Even if what you do is, ultimately, fer jingle. I mean, take what we do: we make thing out o' wood. We do it because it's good, honest work and we like doin' it. But we then sell it fer jingle to get by. Some folks instead o' makin' destroy fer jingle. But if that destruction clears the brush so new things can grow, well, then, maybe they're doin' a service."
Another pause as I debate whether to say what I'm thinkin'.
"It ain't like we ain't got brush we need cleared around these parts so better things can grow..."
August and Bon,
Please go here.
I can't help but notice that Gates doesn't talk directly on what I brought up, in his world, but I see he's thinking on it.
I don't do this much (leaves me without a grab to the holster), but I hold out my hand to shake. "Reverend Gates, I believe we may have found some understanding, without coming to an answer. I think we might have something to learn from each other. Me more than you, maybe. I'll find you when there's less hooch and... what's the word? hormones... flowing."
"I do not really believe Hope is not one of them anymore. She is on a different path, like you, like me." I sigh, looking out at Hope and Dog chatting on the roof. It is humbling to think that I am, in some way, still part of this, to think that Cujo laid claim to my training. "I could have been the worst Arrow... I say with a self-deprecating smirk. "Being the Witch of Pike plays to my strengths a bit more, despite the increasing promise I have shown with this bench."
"Thank you for translating, Joey," I say. "And thank you for not shooting me, Ace." My eyes linger on Cujo. I think maybe we are okay. She is more reserved than before, and I do not know how to take that, especially when we are surrounded by her sisters. My own crew saw more going on between us than she has let the Arrows see. Part of me wants to just kiss her, right here, and force her to deal with whatever is going on, but I do not know what her reasons are. Besides, Suquamish has seen enough already this evening. Speaking of which...
"Meet me downstairs," I say to Suquamish. "I will tell Jax what we are doing and what to watch out for." Without waiting for a response I walk over to Jax.
"Stay dry, Belka. Stay you." Yes, I was there. Belka had gotten some wacky baccy of some kind and kept the party going. She was far too drunk than I'd prefer in my establishment, and high as a cloud. If memory recalls, she left with Toyota? I presume she rocked his world, but as long as it wasn't on the tables or the arena floor, it's not overmuch my concern.
I grab a chair and flip it round to sit, legs spread and arms a-folded on the chair back.
"I notice August and Bon have left. Anyone else want a cigarette besides me?"
Vignette,
Suquamish slowly heads downstairs, where Yellowhouse has tables and chairs and an actual cafe vibe. She watches you until she disappears down the stairs, as if she expects you to run off or something. Cujo's leaning back on her elbows on the picnic table, watching Suquamish like she wants to hunt the girl down.
"Bosslady, you're taking that rot now, right?" Jax says directly when you've both moved over near the roof Hope and Dog just left so you can talk more privately. "I'll keep watch over you."
“This is for your ears only, understand? Anyone you think needs to know, you tell me about it, and I will decide what to tell them.” I wait for him to indicate his assent before continuing.
“I replaced the stuff with something that will fool Suquamish. It will make me a little glassy-eyed and fuzzy-headed, but that is all. I would not take the real thing. I am telling you because I want you to know I am not that reckless. I will have to act under its influence, but I will be acting and aided by something much less potent. You should feel free to be the irritated, over-protective right hand everyone expects you to be.”
I smile at that and then look him in the eye. “I rely on you and on your instincts. I also rely on your following orders, and you have never disappointed me. This party, for instance–your disapproval is plain, but you do your job. Or Cujo’s visit… I do not dismiss your advice lightly, but I know I sometimes stretch your forebearance when I go my own way. I did not want to stretch you to breaking on this Home charade.”
Vignette,
Jax sucks his teeth, listening, trying to keep the "irritated" look going. "Why are you playing this game with HM, Bosslady? What's the goal?" He looks into your eyes for a moment, his blue ones searching yours. "He's in Safeco now, not a direct threat to Pike."
I think, for right now, Ace and Hope they're maybe too hurt to talk. I'm not gonna force either of them.
I walk up to the cluster with SeaTac, Gates and QuePasa in it, circle the edges, like. I draw up tall, hardly thinking about it, because I know how QuePasa feels about me. It makes me kind of angry, but like in a bright way. When someone pisses you off and it makes you smile. I think of what it'd be like if we fought, because I can tell she looks at me and don't see me, but she ain't skittered.
Gates? Now, he's the interesting one. Long while back, Arrows almost settled in Pike, but his family had a claim on the squat we wanted. We tried to scare 'em off, but they stuck to it, and Gates walked out to talk to us, alone. Asked us to reconsider like we were neighbors. Just him and Rainey between two rows of our people, his legs straight and not shakin'. I'd say Father reminded me of him, but Father's pathetic and Gates isn't. Rainey told me about it later.
"How we doin' over here?" I lead in soft, grin.
I look at Jax for a moment. He is not an "accept at face value" sort of guy. I carefully select a truth. "Being underestimated is always useful. If Harbormaster believes I am so unwise as to take Home and put myself under his influence..." I shrug. Fearing Jax will not be satisfied with that, since he has said Harbormaster is not a threat, I add, "He is not a man without ambition, who will live under the Admiral's roof with no plans to change his fortunes. If he thinks he has leverage with me, maybe I will get some insight into his plans."
All of that is true, so it is easy to sound believable. It is also all something Harbormaster must already suspect, so I risk merely confirming the the Witch is devious. What is also true, though, which I will not share, is that I hope that a sample of Home--or at worst, a steady supply of Home--will let Bon devise a countermeasure for it.
Vignette,
Why don't you Manipulate Jax to fully back your play here? On a mixed success, he'll do it, but he's going to need something to grease his palm or some assurance that you'll stick around Pike for a while.
On a failure, something else will go wrong.
Manipulate Jax to get him to back my play with Suquamish/Harbormaster regarding Home: (Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 4, 2. Total: 7)
Marking XP (5)
I change my angle to include Dog and signal the bartender for another glass. On consideration, another bottle, too. "Dog, good to see you. Thanks for including me in this shindig. Reverend Gates here and me were just talking philosophy."
"Couldn't leave you out, SeaTac, glad you made it." I swig my drink, keeping Hope at my side. "Philosophy? Can't say as I'm any expert on it. I mean, I can do a little justice-talk but that's repeatin' things I heard. That counts, though, right?"
I chuckle at this Dog person's comment.
"Dog, my friend, that absolutely counts. Frankly, I'd say most of us are just repeatin' stuff we heard, tryin' to sound smart n' interestin' fer other folks. I'm Gates, by the way, this is my friend QuePasa. Good to meet you. You with... um... that gang? What're y'all called?"
Vignette,
Jax exhales once, through his nose, a whuff of air. "Tomorrow, when you wake up from whatever high you do or do not have, we need to meet with the raiders. There's some whacknut from the forest who lodged a complaint, and I don't want to discuss it here. But we need to talk to him. He can walk in and out of the forest, he says. I set up a meeting tomorrow, Bosslady. So, no more Admiral and HM stuff tomorrow. Right?"
What do you do?
"I could use a break from those two anyway," I say. "The forest should be relaxing after what we have been through the last couple days. Thank you for setting it up."
I touch his shoulder lightly as I walk past, headed for the stairs. It is a gesture of easy familiarity for some. From Dog, it would have been a clap on the shoulder. From me? I am barely able to brush his shirt with my fingertips. Still for me to touch someone at all is a sign of unusual trust and companionship. And I immediately regret it. It just highlights how bad I am at interactions that everyone else takes for granted.
Vignette,
Please go here.