Esco,
You wake in a cold sweat from a nightmare, the same one you've been having on and off for months.
Who's killing you in this dream? How do they do it?It's morning again, too damn early. Hey, how do you tell time in here again? In the far off you swear you can hear the low rumbles of motorcycle engines echoing down the main shaft, but it's probably your imagination.
Doubtful you'll get back to sleep now. What do you do?
Comments
The same fekin' dream... That fat piece of shite Fipper who raided the brothel my Ma and me lived in, takin' my Ma for "reconditioning" — whatever the fek that means — kicks down the door here, with his squad of goonie fippers tearing my joint up, carting off my girls, and beating the shite out of me for some bullshite, made-up thing... All the while nursing a ragin' hard-on. I'm smillin' at him, my face bloodied up to fek, as he pulls out his gun, and executes me — just like he did my Ma's operator.
The Fippers are feked.
Of course, that ain't why I sleep with a knife under my pillow... I sleep with a knife under my pillow because I deal, and serve, a slew of degenerates booze, and offer games of chance that are designed to give the house money more often than not. Occasionally, some cookin' blazebrain comes up here – loaded up on piss, vinegar, and booze – and I can't talk him down. You bet your arse it's always a he, too. Women are too smart for that shite — men are fekin' stupid. I'm not.
Once I'm cleaned up a bit, I eye the air-vents. They go straight up to the top of the mine, and were made so you can see the sun through 'em once it's up. You can usually tell roughly what time of day it is, if you're observant — and you can easily tell when it is day if you're too dumb to know what color the sun is at different times of day.
Either way, I throw some pants on, and make my way down to the bar.
Esco,
You come out to the bar to find Motley and his crue have left on their mission, leaving behind a bit of a mess. Empty mugs, shite spilled on the floor, trash and the like. Sasha's behind the bar cleaning up a little. She's chatting with those two new girls that Marigold brought in from Depot. One of them is quite a looker, her name's Ivy, the other is passable for looks but strong, name's Tink.
Oh, and Sierra's just now walking in.
Sierra,
Wiping sleep out of your eyes, feeling a bit cleaner after the wash last night, you come into Diamond's bar about the same time as Esco.
What do you do?
I scan the bar looking for Esco, surprised for once to see him alone, almost like he was waiting for me. He sets a drink down at the stool next to him and I slip into it easily.
With as much as I have been wanting to have this conversation, I'm honestly not sure how to start it. I look over at him, maybe he hasn't been waiting long, there are still sheet creases on his skin, looks like he just woke up.
It's kinda endearing. "Morning, sunshine."
I eye her up and down, groggy as a drunken blazebrain, tossed out on his arse.
Though, Esco isn't quite as charming as normal and the way he took that shot... maybe he ain't up to a talk.
I poor myself a finger and shoot it down, giving me time to think.
I lean towards him, "You feeling ok? You look lightly frayed around the edges."
I bite my lip. "We don't have to talk this very moment if you aren't feelin' up to it."
(Rolled: 2d6+2 . Rolls: 5, 1. Total: 8)
OOC: I'd like to know how Esco is really feeling.
Oh. I have no idea how to process that ltitle bit of information. I've never been friendly with a man, let alone...
Well, at least I'm not bothering him. I blush, he definitely hides his interest better than most men.
I look at the girls at the bar. They're new and Sasha, I don't know what Sasha thinks of me, but I know she wouldn't think kindly of me if she thought I was a "Feed-Freak."
I was going to suggest going somewhere where I wouldn't be overheard, but now? Mayhap I try to keep it casual.
I bite my lip. "Well, have you thought about what I said? 'Bout the whirling?"
I look over at the girls, no way this is going to be a casual conversation. I sigh, making a quick decision.
" I don't think I was explaining myself well that night. " The image of a thick puddle of blood on the floor flitters past my vision, but I push it away. "Maybe we should go somewhere private, and I can attempt ta explain better?"
Hoolies how am I going to do this without sounding crazy?
(Rolled: 2d6+2 . Rolls: 5, 4. Total: 11)
[First question: Where is my best way in?]
I take one last look around the room, making notes in my head. As I sit down I notice the large bookcase behind him and I momentarily forget what I was going to say. I did not notice those the last time.
I look at my hands, where to start? The beginning I suppose. "Everyone knows this is a prison - and it's no secret that people who get placed here don't remember the outside too good. That's by design..."
I sigh. "I know I'm not saying anything you don't know..." Ching-wah Tsao duh liou mahng, I'm fracking this up. "If folks could remember they'd remember the DVFP, because it's the most popular program on the feed. We're entertainment."
In most of the DVFP, under the light of day, satellites would be used to coordinate nanite recorders. Omnipresent. Here in the mines, however, more traditional recording methods would be necessary. One of the slightly exposed screws holding the bookcase together looks fishy.
I nod.
"The feed, is different on the outside. It's - it's like the arenas, right? But there are channels - so you could watch about a dozen things at once. Like watching all the arenas, some snatch show, you can just flip to what you want to see... The DVFP has 3 channels on the feed."
But who watches it? I... I don't know for sure. "On the outside, all the water-rich watch. They love it."
I try to stay calm, sooth my voice. "One of the reasons I picked the irons is that... the cameras are limited, cause of the infrastructure. They're still all over the place though... but I was trying to avoid the feed."
I look at the bookcase and that flippin screw. Frack, if I am wrong about this I'm going to come out looking like the floopiest floop to ever floop.
"I don't know where the cameras are, but if I had to guess..." I motion behind him at the bookcase. "Can I try something?"
You move closer to the bookcase, and that whirring sound, you hear it again. The third shelf, got to be. You need something to pry out that screw though. Esco has a knife around here, probably.
I look at Esco, "Do you have a knife? or something sharp?"
Sierra, you twist on the screw and it comes loose surprisingly easy. Moments later, you have this in your hand:
(Sierra's lovely hand not pictured)
Mimicking Esco's movements I flip the blade back towards me offering him the handle of the knife. In my left hand, I cradle the tiny camera.
"Like I said, they are everywhere."
I stand there, mouth on the floor, starin' at this small little invasion of privacy starin' me in the face. At first, I don't believe it — who the fek would wanna watch my customers whack off when they can't afford a touch, or watch me sleep, or read... Or listen in on my private dealin's...
FEK.
I feel a storm brewin' in my gut as the denial gives way to anger. I point to it, and look to Sierra with fire in my eyes. Words don't come at first. I stutter, and stab my finger at the thing before giving up, and pacing a second. I'm already scannin' the room, my mind racin' with questions.
This ain't fekin' funny — not in the slightest. I wish I didn't know. I wish Sierra'd never told me, and I could just go on livin' my life thinkin' this wasn't true. I still ain't sure everythin' she's sayin' is true — but there's a fekin' camera in her hand, and that there is pretty undeniable truth that somethin's feked in my home.
I stop in a huff, and turn back to Sierra. I point back at the fekin' camera one last time, willin' myself to be calm. I stalk over to her, pluck the camera, and my knife, from her hands, and slice the damn thing free from its wires in one swift motion. Then, I bring it over to my desk, and smash it to bits in a fit of rage.
If I ever meet the fat fek that put that thing in my fekin' brothel, I'm gunna slit their fekin' throat... Or maybe I'll do it in front of one of them cameras, nice and slow. Let them know what I think of folks invadin' my privacy. I slam the knife down into my desk, and turn back to Sierra.
This ain't her fault... In fact, I guess I owe her. If I can find the rest of those fekin' things, at least in this room, I stand a chance at actually havin' some form of a life.
I stand up a little taller, and walk over to her — a little more composed than a moment ago. I stop just in front of her, fix my hair, and smile. I hold up a finger.
Gee, Esco, I think that's a Seduction, right? If so, let's see a roll.
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 6, 6. Total: 14)
Sierra,
(the Seduction move)
For PCs: on a 10+, both. On a 7–9, choose 1:
• If you go along with Esco, you mark experience (and nothing happens to your highlights)
• If you refuse (to go along with it), Esco will erase one of YOUR highlights for the remainder of the session (and you do NOT get XP).
What you do is up to you.
It takes everything I have to be still when he points at the camera in my hands and not flinch away from him. He's angry, I'm angry too. I understand a bit of it, but this is his home, he wasn't sent here for a reason. It's easy to forget this place is a prison.
He smashes that fracking camera and all I can think is thank the scorch it wasn't me at the end of the knife. He sits there breathing over his handy-work and I wish I knew what was going on in his mind. I think about asking when he stands-straight.
Walking over to me, something shifts. He's standing taller, his green eyes are clear and full of purpose. Frack, he is pretty, but he's still on edge I can practically smell the jitters on him. When his bedroom eyes land on my lips and something in the air shifts.
Esco makes his offer and my first thought is Gloriana won't like that he called her fat. Which is just, zaradann. How deep does she run in me? The frenzied panic and lust that falls over me makes me nearly erupt in laughter. It's only the fear that stops me.
The idea itself, it isn't distasteful. It's terrifying, but it's exhilarating too. Still, he still doesn't know. My voice is strangely calm even to my own eyes, honey soft and lilting. "That 'Fat-Feks' name is Gloriana, she's the sub-warden. I've been hers since I was five, I've never..."
I gesture towards him, all of him. My eyes meet his, imploring understanding.
Sierra doesn't need that though. Sierra needs someone who isn't afraid to act. To stand up against this Gloriana witch, take a beatin' if she brings her boot down on us, and get right the fek back up. I've taken a beating in my day — and you can bet your arse I won't take the next one sitting down.
I put my hand on her shoulder, and brush the soft hair out of the way, exposing her neck.
My skin is hungry, my body starved. It's impossible to describe the famine your body goes through when you go from never sleeping alone, to sudden abandonment. Gloriana never let anyone else touch me, but she touched me at every given opportunity for years. I have never had my own bed, I was to always be available. It has been months since my body has been given what it was made to crave. And I am tired of touching myself at night, thinking of the woman who put me here.
I can still hear every moan, feel every press of her fingers on my skin and know what they mean to give her exactly what she wants. I know what she needs from my body, I know how to give it to her and I know she knows how to play my skin. The kind of obsession Gloriana had was good for that at least.
Esco might give me something else to think about. Something different.
This is zaradann. "I don't know, what to ask for." I bite my lips. "Just please don't stop touching me."
When he lays me down, the way he looks at me, it makes me feel precious. Exploring my body his fingers and tongue find the places that make me shake.
He wants me to make me happy? I know how to do that...
I slide my dress off and over my head, baring myself to him. Blushing I bite my lip, a little shy. "Make me forget." I beg softly, ready for what comes.
Esco and Sierra,
We fade to black on this scene, with Sierra exploring Esco's affection and caring, and Esco allowing himself to experience this tender, genuine moment with Sierra.
Sierra, please share your Sex Move and make your choice, and then I'll ask a couple questions as we move into the next scene.
• You take +1 forward and so do they.
• You take +1 forward; they take -1.
• They must give you a gift worth at least 1-barter.
• You can hypnotize them as though you’d rolled a 10+, even if you haven’t chosen to get the move.Esco,
Have you ever been in love with someone?
What worries you most about this... is it a slip into something real? A weakness?
Sierra,
So, yeah, how was it? As good as Gloriana? Why or why not?
What do you miss about her right now, anything?
Esco treated my body like it held deep secrets. When he touched me, it was charged. I didn't know what he would do and that was exhilarating. The physical difference... Esco's body is hard and strong, but his treatment of me so sweet. Gloriana hasn't been so sweet to me in years...
I miss the Gloriana who loved me and I loved. I know, it's utterly zeraddan to think that I loved her at all. But she was my everything. She loved and protected me for years. She was my only friend. She played with me and held me and whispered sweet soft things to me. My sense of self blurred with hers, how could I not miss her? Even if it's wrong?
But I don't wish she was here. I'm happy here.
That said, I've never been exclusive with someone, sex wise... Most of the girls here don't offer me anythin' special. Sex ain't special in a brothel. That closeness with Sierra, though? That's a need I haven't had tended to in a long time. I could use a little tenderness in my life. If Sierra brings that to the table, I could see myself pursuing that... So long as I can find a way to fit it in my life — I can't risk what I've built here, because whatever this is with Sierra depends on that. Especially if these fat feks are fekin' about with blazin' cameras in my fekin' home.
If we're bein' totally honest though, given how she helped out with Ziggy, I don't see that as a potential problem.
Esco and Sierra,
He exhales through his nose, his tic when he's upset, "Pretty sure he's lying. But it doesn't matter now. Ziggy will take his word on it, and then Fat Man will be... right up our ass." He rakes a hand through his hair.
I listen, "If he gets a chance to tell Ziggy, maybe we can convince him it's better for his long term health to switch sides." I wrap the sheet more firmly around me. "I know Preen, from before. I could talk to him."
JD heads out, locking the door. Sierra, you've never met The Fat Man. He's a convict, on the inside. You've seen him on the Feed, but rarely. His big palace is "off the grid". There are hundreds of griefers who start up petitions to get it on the grid, but it's never happened.
The Fat Man... "No one in the DVFP is supposed to have access to the feed, but... The Fat Man's Palace is almost free of cameras, totally "off the grid." The audience has been none to pleased with that..."
It would be a huge violation on the "premise" of the show if there was someone with feed access inside the DVFP. People would go absolutely zariddan, loose their fracking minds. "It's pretty obvious people can smuggle some information, but the whole feed? That would be a scandal."
I pull my hair back, trying to smooth it into something manageable. I smell deep, it needs cleaning again, I think remorsefully, briefly looking at the tub with longing.
"Do you think there is a connection? If I was Ziggy, I wouldn't need proof to put together that you might have hired the crue for protection..."
OOC: Which enemy is the biggest threat?
Ziggy is nothing. The Fat Man sent a nothing here, so it must mean he doesn't care. But Gloriana was deprived of her show. She's your biggest threat, for sure.
Fippers coming in to fix the cameras, but they won't say that's what they're after. Some kind of infraction. Anything at all.
I move to sit at the edge of the tub, just looking at it. It's such an odd thing to see at the Irons. "Does it get hot water?"
I look back at the mirror - how many cameras could be in this room anyway? How would we even find them all. "Ziggy isn't going to be the problem once we start taking the down the cameras. Gloriana, she sent Ziggy in the first place, she'll send Fippers in next. To get the cameras back up or..."
Or to take me away -
Or to kill you -
Or to burn Diamond to the ground -
I bite my lip, feeling guilty again. "or... somethin' worse."
He sounds like he's promising me the world. Which is zaridann of course. He's doin it for him, as much as he's doin it for me, if not more. Got to keep it in perspective. Part of me till doesn't believe it's possible. Gloriana has controlled every aspect of my life since I can remember, she controls (at least in part) the DVFP, I'm only here cause she wants me here. The other part of me, wants what Esco is promising more than I have ever wanted anything in my life.
I don't know what to say. So, I don't say anything at all. I turn my head, meet his striking green eyes, and lean in, pulling his lips to mine in a kiss.
Cleaned and refreshed, you receive Preen, who comes into your office with Sasha. Sasha remains by the door, but, Sierra, you spot that she has some kind of weapon with her, hidden from Preen's view. What is it?
Sasha clearly isn't calm though. She's carrying a ladies pistol strapped to her thigh. I can just see it from where I'm sitting, I'm certain Tayt didn't notice it at all given the way he's acting. He probably thinks the girls can't take care of themselves. Derelict floop.
I listen and wait. He didn't acknowledge me, why do men do that? I'll jump in when I think it's the right time.
He takes a moment and composes himself, falls into a stance that reminds you of Tayt, Sierra, then reports, "They were coming through the blockade, and Motley started talking some trash, so I demanded he apologize. Next thing I know, he attacks my people, and that... big vixaxn with the mask tore down the turret with his bare hands! "
"Tayt, why'd you set up the blockade to begin with? That wasn't part of the deal."
I hope to bring his focus to me. I don't want to talk about Ziggy. I want to know what he knows about her connections to Gloriana.
[OOC: Read a Person?]
Go ahead and Read him, Sierra!
(Rolled: 2d6+2 . Rolls: 3, 6. Total: 11)
[Question 1: How do I get you to tell me the truth about what Ziggy's up to?
Question 2: What's Tayt really feeling?]
He's freaked out, Sierra. He's waaaay out of his depth here, and he's been faking it until he makes it, and knows he barely survived to this point. He'd roll on Ziggy in a heartbeat, hand up what he knows, if someone would give him a home and a purpose.
I look at Esco hoping he'll back me up.
I breathe in and take my next gamble. I don't know if he remembers me. Sometimes it seems like he does, other times its like he is looking right through me. It's unnerving. "We shouldn't be working against each other."
I look over to Preen, and lean back in my chair.
"Ziggy was almost put out to pasture, left to bake. But Fat Man saddled her with all the rejects, like me. Told her if she could raise up three barter in a day, she'd get a chance to rule the roost. When you... re-negotiated, she left us out front to charge tolls while she scrambled with what she had left back at her compound."
His voice drops into a somber tone, "I think... we were all a big joke to him. Just lambs, like you said. So he could have an excuse to move on The Irons in force. He thinks Diamond is raking it in. Too many girls leaving Depot. Not enough jingle changing hands at Bordertown. He thinks there's something hidden here."
[OOC: 3rd (and final) question: Is Preen telling the truth?]
When Esco asks if I would put up with this shite I laugh. I actually laugh. Because well... "I've put up with worse than the Fat Man, but that isn't who I am anymore. The Fat Man can rot."
I look at Esco and smile.
He is telling the truth.
I look back to Sierra – we make a pretty good team, I think – and I sigh. Without saying anything, I invite her to weigh on on what she thinks about this news.
"Boys can we find Preen a room? We can introduce you to Norvell and some of the older miners tonight. Green?"
I stand up and walk over to Esco and give him a nod, hoping he reads me well enough by now to see the obvious social graces. I put my hand on Esco's right shoulder, as I come around the desk and turn back to Tayt, looking at him over his left.
"I think you're gonna like it here, we treat people well, even with this ones bluster." I wink at Tayt as if we were sharing a joke. I feel a little rusty, a little sick, falling back into this role. I'm doing it voluntarily, so it's different, but it doesn't feel all that different.
Sasha puts her pistol away under her skirt and takes Preen's arm to lead him away. What do you do?
Removing my hand from his shoulder I sit on the corner of his desk. I don't understand a lot of the technicalities. I know the players, kinda, I know what they want but...
"So, I'm not sure I understand. Is 3 barter a lot in a day? What am I not getting here?"
[OOC: Can I read a sitch here?]
Reading a sitch is a much more immediate move. What you're dealing with is political, and tricky. You could, however, Open Your Brain to the feed in hopes of getting an idea from the psychic maelstrom.
Still, I'm not following. And maybe it's cause I have never had much to hold over anyone's head - jingle or otherwise. But a backdoor deal with Ziggy, just sounds like a backdoor entrance for Fat Man to me. Wouldn't it be better to appear small?
"If Fat Man is interested in the Irons because he thinks we are raking it in... why do we want him to know we could pull in three barter in 24 hours? Doesn't that seem like more of a reason to come take over, not less?"
"You might be right... I should be payin' you..."
I get up, and pace for a bit while I mull it all over. If I'd known this back before Zig showed up, I might have done things differently... Had she come down here, and I'd known I had the chance to buy her out, I would have.
"If I had the jingle to call in some markers before the clock runs out, I would. I just don't know... Thrash, Zig's predecessor, came down here once — maybe twice? We had an arrangement. If the Fat Man tossed Thrash because he wasn't puttin' the squeeze on us lately, then that smells to me like the Fat Man already has intent. If he thinks Zig's scorched, then why would he put any faith in her ability to put the squeeze on us better than Thrash?
"The way I see it, we can bet red, or black... Red bein' we let Ziggy hang in the wind, and hope that sends a message to the Fat Man that the Irons have no juice for him — or we bet it all on black, on Zig, and that the Fat Man will let her run the show without further bloodshed. If we win big on red, then we save a couple jingle for investment in somethin' else — some hardware, maybe, for whenever the Fat Man decides to show up on our doorstep. If we win big on black, then we ride Ziggy out until the Fat Man ousts her, and we hope we've got enough money, and resources, to tell the Fat Man to cook off."
I sigh. This stuff, it's all about power, sometimes it's best to look weak. "There is always the third option - we bluff. Go to the Fat Man say that..." It takes me a while to come up with another gangs name, hoolies I really wish I had paid more attention to the feed. "...the UFer? Yeah, the UFers are giving us trouble and with Ziggy on our backs we can barely feed ourselves. Make the Irons small, while we buff up our defenses. After all, looks can be deceiving."
I shrug and stand, I sound zaradann and dumb. Not sure what to do with myself, I just cross my arms over my chest and lean against the bookcase. Looking anywhere but at Esco.
It's a purely instinctual reaction. No. No, I don't want the attention. No, I don't want to be anywhere near that man's grasp. No, I don't want to be feed bait. Just no.
And it's not just those things, it's The Scorch. It's the hugeness of the outside. I've lived my life in boxes. Boxes and hallways. Gloriana's rooms, the dining room, the hallway back. The rigg, the room where we were staying, the ballroom? Even at the Irons, it's my room which is a five-minute walk down the hallway from the diamond. And with the exception of very few days, that is all that I travel. The only time I have been outside, truly outside, not in a pretty pompous Courtyard, was when I ran away and woke up in the Scorch. If it wasn't for Beckett finding me on the side of the road and helping me find a home... I'm not sure what would have happened.
I'm sure she figured it would end up one of Esco's girls. She probably figured better that then in the Depot or with the FatMan.
When my eyes do eventually meet Esco's there was definitive panic there, plain as day.
It takes me a second to get over the immediate fear and actually hear what Esco said. Equal partners? In what? And what about JD?
"What do you mean, Equal Partners?"
Did he think I was angling for a piece of the business, like Sasha? I was just doing what I've always done - listen and give advice.
"Partners... Like you just keep doin' what you're doin', and I bring you in on a cut of the Diamond's profits. You've got a real mind for this line of work, and I like you — I think we offer each other a lot more than just the occasional mutually beneficial favor.
I'm really confused... I'm watchin' her close, wonderin' what it is exactly that's brought this about.
(Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 3, 4. Total: 8)
"I..." Farthoom, am I actually speechless? I just don't understand, "What do you think I could offer you?"
"I presume you mean beyond being a shrewd negotiator, knowing things about the cameras in our home, or knowing to play all the angles... Never mind whatever this is," I motion between us. "You've more than earned it with what you've done these last couple days."
"I'm just talking. I've never been responsible for anything... I leave the "except Gloriana" unsaid. "And what about JD?"
"JD has his cut; but this is my joint, and this is as much an investment for me as it is an opportunity for you. If JD has a problem with it, he can take it up with the Fat stacks of jingle our joint venture would generate the lot of us. I relax a little. She may be coming around... I hope she is. "It's the way you talk, Sierra. The was you comport yourself. The way you think. You're a capable woman. You deserve the opportunity to make something for yourself — and I feel like I'm in a position to give you that opportunity. The whole of the Irons would stand to benefit from us workin' together."
OOC: Spending my hold — how can I get Sierra to accept the offer?
Four hours ago she had sex with a man for the first time and she admitted she had been a personal slave since she was 5. Fracking you once isn't going to cure her overnight. She's done well in these high-stress situations, but she isn't exactly laden down by experience.
This is much like the last question. Quelling her fears around what it is you expect her to do. Listening and understanding some of her past might help here. She's capable, yes, but she clearly needs help understanding the scope. She's new to the DVFP and it's players. Also, pay more attention to the benefits. the freedom of jingle, and not having to worry about food, wash and other comforts.
But remember: Don't scare her off.
I motion around the room, "the Diamond is how I live in a place like this. It's given me good food, shelter, and enough jingle to occasionally fek about doin' whatever I feel like. A warm bath whenever I need it. Privacy when the world turns me sour. Luxuries the blazebrains work their arses off to have once in a blue moon."
I pause a moment, and stand up from the desk. I make my way to her side, but I don't bother with touching her, in case she's still on the defensive. "Don't worry about the Fat Man right now. I'll take care of it. What would you be doin' today if all this hadn't happened?"
Farthoom, I am starting to worry about him.
But when I listen to the words he is saying, they seem for my benefit. Like he's trying to calm me down.
It's sweet, in a way.
"I'd be here, most like. Well, not here..." I lift my hand to gesture around the room. "but the Diamond." I turn to look him in the eye, leaning my head against the bookcase, letting my hair fall over my shoulder. He's suggesting giving me a part of his baby. I know what this place means to him. "You really think I'm worth bringing on as a partner? I mean it Esco, I've never done anything like this." The most I have ever considered myself was a part time musician.
If I came on as a partner. I'd have something that was mine... it would men potentially going out into the world to defend it too. Maybe that's Esco's whole game. Give me a piece of something, hoping I'll protect it.
Maybe he's just doing it so I'll stay.
"Bringin' you on would make us both rich — no doubts — and you have been doin' stuff like this, pretty much the whole time you've been here. Especially these last few days, but even before them. You play songs. You lift the whole damn mine up with a smile." I lean in closer, still not touchin' her — respecting her boundaries in this turbulent conversation. "You go on. Go get a drink. Maybe play a song if you feel like it. Look pretty as you do at the bar. JD will make sure nobody lays a hand on you, like he always does. Do whatever it normally is you do. I'm benefiting from you bein' round — I figure it's only right you get compensated for it."
I push myself off the bookshelf, and grab my jacket. "I don't like bein' blindsided by news like the Fat Man wanting to storm in here, and take over my business. I spend a lot of effort tryin' to keep this place off the radar of folks like the Fat Man... At least now we've got a plan, and a half-way decent one at that."
Now I turn to face her, and reach out for her hand without taking it. " Go ahead and sit this one out. I'll go deal with the Fat Man, like we discussed — make it look like we're sufferin' to hand the Fat Man his tribute. When I get back, and you've had some time to see I'm right 'bout you bein' a natural fit here, we can pick up this conversation again, and talk about how we keep our bar safe from that fat fek." I'm all smiles — fek, if I can somehow swing gettin' Sierra in my bed, I just might be invincible.
When he mentions going alone... I reach out my hand and put it in his.
"I don't like being blind sighted either. Wait though, don't go. We should decide how we are going to beef up defense around here. We only have half a plan. And you said you need me right? Were you lyin?"
Gorrem, I don't want to go, but I don't want to send him out there alone either. I don't want to find him barely alive like Reese, or worse, if I could have done anything about it. And if I am one of the owners...
Something, something dangerous and powerful blooms in my chest - warm and inviting - a sense of realness. An inkling of home.