[DVFP] A Girl in Warpaint (E 3.3, G 3.4)

edited December 2016 in aw2e-dvfp
You just gave Isle a nod and headed out of The Pit. She slides out from her seat to come out to join you. She's about your height, and she's wearing a pair of leather pants and a pair of shite-kicker boots. The thrash metal carries out here, but not so bad you can't talk at a normal volume and be heard. The heat's ticking up to Scorching Time.

"Didn't expect to see you here, Esco." she drawls as she keeps that smile on her face.

What do you do?


  • I step out of the dark, dank pit into the scorching valley air, and I flinch as the mid-day sunlight burns a hole in my eyes. I mentioned I don't get out much, yeah? I make my way over to the nearest patch of shade, and take off my jacket — which I admit was a blazebrained thing to bring along in the first place. Seriously — who the fek wears a leather in the middle of hell?

    Speaking of which, I don't even have time to put my jacket down before Isle's silky smooth voice sails into my ear. I smile as she comes up beside me. "Neither did I. You girls come out here on the regular, into this molten hellhole?" I feign surprise, "you're even tougher'n I thought. Lucky for me I guess..."
  • image

    She hisses a laugh, "Yeah. We do. On the regular. You'd melt, you pretty little popsicle." Isle walks over to slide an arm around you, "You're the sexiest guy I've seen in days. You got any jingle on ya?" She arches a brow and grins.
  • edited December 2016
    Rule #1 of travellin' in the wastes of the valley, kiddos — never carry more jingle than you care to lose.

    "Some. Why?" I'm tryin' not to let that comment 'bout bein' the sexiest guy she's seen in a while go to my head — I ain't lookin' to get played today.
  • image

    Isle chuckles, "If you'd said no and I believed ya, I'd drag you off to Fall On Inn where we got a place. If you'd lied to me, I'd punch ya in the jaw and tell you that you aint that pretty anymore. But you,"She gently squeezes your neck and pulls you closer, whispering in your ear, "You're truthful. Got enough for halfsies on a room in High Rent? Bath and a lil kitchen and all?"
  • Halfsies? ... Yeah, Halfsies I can do. A night in high-luxury wouldn't really leave me much in the way of extra jingle — but I've got orders to loosen the fek up and enjoy myself this trip out. Come back clear headed. I don't intend to let the folks back home down. So long as Cinch ain't expectin' to get paid in advance, that is.

    ... Fek... Cinch. I guess I could leave a message with the boozeshill in case she comes 'round. "Let's get a little somethin'-somethin' from the bar — no sense in lettin' a special occasion like High Rent go without gettin' altered." With crazy getup like that, I'd imagine she must do magmacaps or somethin' — she looks like somethin' out of a cave paintin'. "I ain't done anythin' that gave me visions in a long fekin' time... I'm overdue."
  • image

    She kisses your cheek, then lets go of your neck. "Bet your cute ass you are!" She swats at your butt playfully, "Go get us something to drink. I'm telling Last I'll catch up with her."
    She marches in to chat with Last, leaving you to take care of grabbing a bottle. The bartender hands you a fresh bottle similar to what you handed off to Rothschild. Which, is gone by the way. The bottle, not Rothschild. She gives you a grin like she knows something you don't know.
  • I leave a message with the bartender, to let Cinch know that I've decided to take in the sights for the day — and that I'll catch her here tomorrow if she's still 'round. Beats me if he'll deliver it, but I can find my own way back if Cinch thinks I'm tryin' to ditch her — which I ain't. I think she'd understand. I asked the tender if he had anything we could put in the drink — somethin' hallucinogenic. Told him I'd pay extra for the good stuff. Whether he's got some or not, I'm guessin' I'm gunna be waitin' on someone or other... Either him to get the shite, or Isle to finish up with Lost.

    I spot Roth, and cock an eyebrow. "Wot?"
  • image
    Bartender hands you a small packet of "a mixer".
    Rothschild looks at you, glances back at Isle, then smirks. "Oh, if you're gonna bed her, just be ready for a surprise. That's all. Get reallly trashed. I know how appearance is so important to you."
  • Wot the everlovin' fek is that supposed to mean?


    "Wot the everlovin' fek is that supposed to mean?
  • image

    For a moment, it feels like Rothschild is going to leave you hanging. She turns so she isn't looking at Isle, answering, "A while back, Isle, Last, Krin, and the others were rhymin and stealin a Ratcatcher Megahol convoy. Isle jumped from one truck," Roth's left hand mimics a jump in the air along the bar, "And landed on the next." She holds up her right hand like a bumper, the left holding onto it, "But she almost fell off. Had to grab the bumper and hold on, then pull herself up. Fugged her up pretty bad."
    Rothschild puts her hands flat on the bar, "From the bellybutton down, she looks like a pizza slice, Esco. She's real sensitive about it, so if you freak out when you see, she'll prolly shoot ya." She smiles and looks over at you. "Have a good time!"
  • I stay quiet and listen as she tells the story... If we're being honest, very few ladies out here don't have a scar of one type or another — physical or mental. Even someone as beautiful as Sierra has her issues, and I ain't no different.

    What I'm stuck on is the imagery — wot the fek is a pizza slice?

    Well, anyway... I've seen a few folks get dragged from the back of a truck before. It ain't pretty what it does. I have to think a minute about what to do — but ultimately, I don't give a shite. I nod, and stuff the mixer into my jacket pocket. "Thanks for the heads up," I suppose I should be thankful, but it may not even be true... I guess I'll find out soon enough. "I dunno how you ended up with June — but keep your ear to the ground, yeah? Not that June is necessarily a bad person — but there are rumors about what she can do to folks minds... I've seen people do some fekked up shite with powers like that... Been a party to it, even... Don't assume they're always gunna keep you safe from it. Not everyone has that level of self control, eh?"
  • image

    "Thanks for the concern, Esco, that's sweet." Rothschild chirps. "June's been a good boss, a better lover. When she isn't anymore, I'll skedaddle. As for self control," she holds her right hand out, pinkie and thumb out, pointing down, "You mess with the bull," she turns her hand up so the pinkie and thumb are pointing up, makes a stabbing motion, "Sometimes you get the horns."
    She grins and moves over to slap your shoulder. "You're a good guy. A better lay."
  • I laugh. Now I know she's thinking's about some other night... "See ya, Roth. Tell June I'm hurt she don't come 'round no more... Wounded even. She was one of my last clean customers." And the jingle didn't hurt... I push off the bar, and look over to see what Isle is up to.
  • image
    Esco, you see Isle's headed for the door, looking your way. Last and Krin both smile at you and give you a nod like "have fun!" Gigg walks back in, sees you and heads over.

    Gigg, you spot Esco after your chat with June. Looks like he might be leaving, has a bottle in his hand.
  • I spy Esco looking like he's ready to make like the wind, so I approach him quickly, interposing myself between him and the exit. I pull out his fancy silver fork from momma's purse and hold up for him to see as I walk up. "Hey, Esco, I can't believe you're here in The Depot. But, I'm glad you are. I need to talk to you about this. Recognize it?"

    OOC: The fancy fork and its companions were introduced at https://ngp.calypti.ca/discussion/843/dvfp-lookit-what-i-found-g-1-2
  • ... That's my fekin' forks... Questions bubble up through the wave of confusion. "Yeah... How the fek did you get your hands on those? Are those mine?" Seems highly unlikely Gigg would have a duped set handy like that.
  • I nod as I see Esco recognize the fork. "Yeah, I thought these was yours when I found them in the scrounge from the Borax Bus. I've got the whole set in a hidey-hole back at the Junkyard. I been hanging on to 'em since me and Chaz picked off that bus. Was surprised to find 'em in the loot we grabbed. I recall you bein' proud of all that fancy at the Diamond opening. But... If you didn't want 'em anymore, I sure can put 'em to use repairin' that 50-cal I took from Ziggy's cowboys at the roadblock up at the Irons. I just wanted to clear it with you 'fore I traded 'em to the smithy."
  • At first, I'm more interested out of curiosity — one eye on the door, as they say — but the mention of the Borax Bus, and his involvement with Ziggy's roadblock, brings my attention square onto the conversation.

    There's a shiteload of information bein' dumped on me right now — and I wanna make sure I understand it all.

    "Let's take a step back here — it was you and Chaz that knocked over Borax Bus? And you and Motley that took out Zig's roadblock?"
  • "Yeah, yeah, Esco. Ziggy's cowboys didn't dare fug with me as I walked out the roadblock that morning. I was waitin' on Mot outside the block, ready to go hit Ziggy, but Preen had a hard-on to give Motley the blazes. Was tryin' to get more scratch out of him leaving and they exchanged hot words. I was watching when that prick Preen gave the order to his cowboys to shoot Motley and his crue in the back as they was walking out the roadblock. I got Motley's attention right before or Preen woulda massacred them, and then I ran and took out that big mutha fuggin gun. We sure turned the tables on 'em, but we didn't leave the Irons looking for that fight."

    I kinda feel like I'm firehosing Esco, but I'm too caught up in all the rememberin' flashes, and I hadn't really had a chance to tell anyone all the stories yet. I'm getting caught all up telling him, and the fork is becoming part of the visual aides along with the hockey stick and then there's lots of sound effects.

    "As for the Bus, well... it's not like I knew the whole story when Chaz rolled up at the Junkyard just before the Big Scorch that day. Said he had a tip that Ziggy was gonna hit the Irons later that day and that the Bus was gonna be torchin' to get out ahead and would be unescorted. Easy pickings for some rhymin' and stealin', Chaz said.

    I didn't ask no questions, Esco. Just a gig. Chaz comes by all the time with little scrounge jobs. But I hit that bus hard, took it out all by myself. Thing is, and this is the fishy smell thing... as Chaz and me where scrounging the loot after hitting the bus, we start taking sniper fire from a long way off. Never saw where it came from, but they shot and killed Chaz. I grabbed him and gunned Swagman outta there and outran that sniper. It wasn't 'til I was back at the Junkyard plantin' Chaz in final shade that I had them rememberin' flashes where he said that Ziggy was planning on hitting the Irons. That's when I decided you'd prolly need an extry hand at the Irons, and I high-tailed it up there the next mornin'.

    I stop all the story-telling and play-acting, and get serious, leaning now on the hockey stick. "Chaz was a good friend, Esco, and I been thinkin' lots about that last gig and ever-thing that went down them days, and call me crazy, Esco, but I believe in my heart that Ziggy tipped off Chaz to take out that Bus, and then tried to kill us both."

    The serious tone passes as quickly as it came, "So, you want your forks back?"
  • I stand there, gape-mouthed, and blazebrained as Gigg unloads that tale on me. I hold a hand up when he's done, asking about those forks... "No... No, you keep 'em." I never fekin' used 'em much anyway, and my clientele has done nothing but sink into the pits of late.

    Fekin' Ziggy... Sendin' two folks to hit the Bus, and play it up like a raid. Then Sierra pulls her magic shite — 'cause of Reese, or some shite — and we slaughter the bulk of her gang, and all of a sudden we're a hot-target, overnight. I put out good jingle to put them up, held up my side of the bargain, and I got nothin' but headaches from it.

    I pause, and scratch at the stubble on my chin before looking back at him. "I had a girl on the bus, you know... Marigold. Why the fek would you hit that bus? Ain't I always been good to you 'n Chaz? Did I do somethin' to offend?"
  • I let out a long exhale through the breather box, and look down and begin picking at the scabs on my arms again. Talking to June about the voices inside is one thing, but shite like that won't fly with Esco. But, I know like with Last, it's time for me to come clean here too.

    Another big sigh, "Come on, Esco. You gotta believe that I didn't know that bus had anything to do with you until I found all them fancy forks and spoons. I don't know people and faces, who's who an' all that. Still, I did get caught up in it all, and I did some things I regret, I admit that, Esco. Felt compelled to leave no witnesses." I pause contemplating how far to take this. "Don't ask me to explain, but this goes beyond Ziggy. I'm tired of bein' used, Esco."
  • No witnesses? Does he not know Marigold lived? Probably best I don't bring that up... I guess I can't hire folks to hit rich targets crossing through Iron territory, and get mad when they accidentally hit one of mine.

    He don't wanna explain, yet here we are... Knee deep in a pile of shite together. "I know the feelin' — bein' used. I sympathize... I really do." I sigh, and put my free hand on his shoulder. "If you don't wanna talk now, that's fine — but if you think you're in over your head, or you need me to hook you up with somethin', you just let me know, and I'll get you sorted."
  • image

    Isle comes over to the pair of you, not taking a care to be subtle, "Esco, you comin?" She eyes you, Gigg, "Go away, A, I wanna play with him." She doesn't bother with giving you a Krin-type look, Gigg, but she's dismissive of you for sure.
  • I just stand there staring back at Esco as Isle comes to fetch him, stone cold silent, appearing to ignore Isle's barb. My feelings aren't hurt in the least, I'm just stunned and dumbfounded at the graciousness and generosity from Esco. No one else in the world besides Esco proves time and again he just wants to help me without asking nothing in return. In the wake of Isle's derision, my mask isn't hiding shame and humiliation this time, instead it hides a tear-streaked face.
  • I shrug a wordless apology as Isle pulls me away from the conversation. I pay him on the shoulder one more time, and point at him as I follow Isle out. "The Diamond. I can't help folks if they don't ask — come find me."

    Then I turn back to Isle, and throw an arm around her shoulder — specifically the one holding that bottle of booze.

    It's time to get fekked.
  • image

    End Scene
  • image
    On second thought, let's have you go here.

Sign In or Register to comment.