[Junk XIII] Baby Names (J 9-2)

edited February 2014 in Junkworld XIII
Jack,

You've been in Oasis for a couple months now as Faille has healed slowly. Ro and Parfait have been with you, of course. The North Candies headed back to the Ascendant, but Toot makes a trek out here every few weeks, on some made-up reason or another.

What have you been doing to keep a roof over your heads?

Comments

  • edited February 2014
    Life in Oasis is something of an oddity — the city is so open and beautiful. It seems quite inviting, actually, but the longer you spend here, the more you realize that each household is actually quite private. There is a grand social contract that you have great liberty within your own affairs, but must appear beautiful and composed when you step out into the public eye. "Pleasantries" and all that whatnot.

    I have offered up my assistance to Nehi, and have been sizing up potential buyers to know how much they can afford, and how best to obtain that exact amount from them. I also took the liberty of helping hunt down the last few Wendys who decided to stay near Oasis. It's been slow, but productive work.

    In my down-time I've done many of the things I have secretly wanted to do with someone... I swam out to the island with Parfait, gambled (poorly) with Ro, and rented a room with the whole gang at Stake's and enjoyed a beautiful night overlooking the Oasis. Part of me is feeling the wanderlust, and I am anxious for Faille to heal up, but the other part of me has enjoyed the relatively slow pace we've taken here...

    It's odd, but I've noticed the whispers do not speak to me as much as they did before. I've noticed that when I'm with my friends, the world seems much less hostile. I've enjoyed my time here, and the exercises I've learned from Metro to help Parfait have been keeping me sharp.
  • Let's pick up during a Toot visit.

    Toot has come into town and insisted that you guys head to Stakes. Since Nehi stays there, it's a chance for you to catch up with her, and Parfait's back aches are soothed by the nice beds.

    Of course, Ro's worn out his "free rooms" welcome by winning a surprisingly high number of poker games. He brags he can win enough for a room, though. Do you take him at his word, or is that bragging?

    What have you picked up about Ro that makes you think he's into Toot?
  • I'm more than happy to head down to Stake's, especially since we've been spending more than our fair share of nights in Charmin's spare bed. She has been more than gracious to us, and generous in her helping Parfait when I am not around, but I do not wish to burden her any more than is necessary.

    The walk over to Stake's has me teasing Ro about his "luck" eventually turning on him. "Easy come, easy go," I remind him as the evening sun hangs low in the sky behind us, "I can't front jingle to win back your losses every time." I pat him on the back, and smile wide. I squeeze Parfait's hand, "especially since I need that jingle to secure a room!"

    I wouldn't say that I've "picked up" on Ro being into Tootsie Roll, so much that the whole town's heard stories of her conquests. Every time she comes into town, he asks her of what she's done since their last departure — and every time, he sings her praises to whoever will listen. It's cute, really.
  • Jack,

    Ro seems to know exactly how to get into Toot's heart with that praise. Did a little birdie tell him about that tactic?
  • Well... I won't deny that I may have mentioned, in passing of course, how very interesting Toot's war stories were. Let's just say I sparked his interest, but the resulting flame was entirely of his doing. I have never suggested he tell anyone else those stories... But if you know Ro like I do, you'd know his penchant for spreading stories is almost an addiction, and he is a master of his craft — really it borders on art.

    Let's simply say there's a song the famed Oliver used to sing in bars — Ro's been humming it of late.
  • The four of you head into Stakes. Toot and Ro practically skip off to the tables while Parfait stays near you while you check in. She stands close and whispers into your ear, "My loving husband. I would love to take a long bath and nap while you enjoy the gambling and meet with Nehi. Is this alright with you?"

    When was the last time you visited Faille in the clinic?
  • I saw Faille just this morning. We check in on Faille every day, without fail — well, unless I'm out of town for the day. I rarely spend the night outside of Oasis's walls unless there's a very good reason to.

    I pull Parfait into an embrace, and kiss her cheek. "Of course, my love." I reach into my pocket and hand her the jingle to buy us a room for the night, "shall I come check on you when the meeting is over?" My tone is hopeful because my spirits are high... What can I say? The lady looks lovely covered in nothing but suds.
  • OOC: Moonlighting. Roll+Cool. Working 2 gigs: Honest work & Brokering Deals.
    (Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 5, 4. Total: 10)
  • Parfait nods, "Yes. Come check on me. I will hold you until I fall asleep." She grins, "I will capture you like a trap!"

    Once you're checked in, Parfait heads up with her key, leaving you with a kiss and a farewell.

    You walk into the gambling hall, I assume? Nehi is here, in a corner sitting at a round table with a high backed circular row of seats, lots of cushions. A couple of well-dressed merchants are sitting with her, all eating from some sets of bowls on the large table. What are they eating, can you tell?

    Toot and Ro are at the craps table. Toot is waiting for her turn to throw and Ro is chatting at the people around.
  • I smile and hold Parfait's hand until she slips from my grasp. I watch her ascend the stairs before turning to head for the gambling room. I make my way immediately over to Nehi — who appears to be eating some sort of pasta concoction, in an orange paste with different kinds of meat and vegetables mixed in. It looks quite good, if a bit messy.

    "Apologies gentlemen," I interrupt as I come up beside Nehi, "Nehi, I've got updates on the deals for the week."
  • Nehi motions for you to sit across from her, "Sit, sit, Jack. Please. These gentlemen are my peers in the Merchant's Cabal. This is Stayman, and this is the aptly named Fortune." Both dark-skinned gentlemen nod and smile, but they are much more closed to strangers than Nehi.

    "Stayman, pour Jack a drink, please. Please, Jack. Regale us with your information." Nehi smiles, seeming to her partners to be completely open. Is that true, or is this a ruse? Do you two play a game here, or is she confident in her power? Or is she just generous?
  • edited February 2014
    Nehi is a very shrewd business-woman, but I was surprised to learn that she wears most of her heart on her sleeves. I take the seat across from her, a practiced smirk on my face, and bow graciously when she asks Stayman to pour me a drink. Then, as we've practiced, I decline. "No. Thank you Stayman, but I'm abstaining from drink while my wife is expecting." Which is, of course, true — but the spectacle of it is what's important here.

    The arrangement we have is something of a very fine dance — she sets me up to seem almost irreproachable, and people put up their defenses; but when I am able to see through their masquerades, their walls come tumbling down, and Nehi's trust seems ineffably well placed. I wasn't aware she was targeting members of the merchant's cabal though.

    "Well," I begin, "the deal with your contact in the dune sea went through. Subaru was more than happy to get the trade route moving, and you should expect the first shipment within the moon. Here's your cut of the signing deal," I say as I place a bag worth one jingle on the table — my cut, which she typically refuses to take in front of her marks ... "a tip" being the usual excuse.
  • Stayman puts the pitcher down and purses his lips, surprised, as you'd expect. He is suspicious about your claim. Who wouldn't cheat when she is away, he thinks to himself. Why proclaim promises no man would keep, and why?

    Nehi puts up a hand, stopping the offer, "Your work on this was crucial, Jack. Please, keep the bag, consider it a bonus. I won't accept it."

    That gets Fortune's attention. He doesn't know what's up with Nehi, refusing jingle?

    The silence hangs, just long enough for Nehi to clear her throat and hold their attention. "Jack here is my closest adviser. He has a keen sense about people. And that's the core of a merchant, is it not? We understand people, and what they want, what they need. We find ways to fill those needs, stoke those wants."

    She turns to Stayman. "Stayman, my friend. You should talk with Jack about the water rights you're working out with those villagers."

    Stayman shakes his head once, sort of disbelieving this.

    What do you do?
  • The dance is almost second nature to me now, but it's an uncomfortable one — I'm not truly destined to be a merchant... But the jingle has been fantastic of late, and I've been speaking with Parfait about what do to when Faille has fully recovered. I've been talking to some people about finding an RV, like Kodak had, so that we can live a slightly better life. Even something like my mother had would make my life that much easier. I haven't heard much in the way of Wendy activity out west recently though, and I do worry about that.

    I return my focus to Stayman and smile, "you're negotiating water rights with a village? Which one?" I am actually quite interested in this, as I've become quite familiar with the local villages of late.
  • "Soda pop." Stayman replies. "They have control of the mouth of a small river. You can't get anything more than a canoe down it, so nobody has fought for it. But I may have a way to use it." He has this look in his eyes, like he sees something exciting. And profitable.
  • I am most intrigued... I lean in, "what did you have in mind? I would imagine anything that adds value to the village would likely be perceived positively by the inhabitants."
  • "That's the problem." Stayman admits with a bit of a sudden sneer. "They only barter, no jingle. They say I don't have what they want, and they won't tell me what they want, just say if I had it, I'd know. Frakkin annoying villagers and their stupid..."

    "Now, now, Stayman. One person's riddles are another's treasures and truth." Nehi offers the adage to effectively shut him down.
  • I lean back in my chair, and put a finger to my chin pensively. "Well, Stayman... I have some experience brokering deals of that sort. If you're intending to make a trip out at some point, I'd be happy to accompany you, and see if I can't decipher their needs."
  • Stayman narrows his eyes, and says, "Tell you what, Jack. You come with me on the morrow. If you can help me make headway, I'll cut you in on whatever deal we make. But you can't set yourself as a permanent middle man, ok? My idea has a thin margin, if I slice it too much, then it's not worth the investment for a long time." He pauses, checking for understanding. "Make sense?"
  • I had no intentions of becoming a middle-man for this little operation of his. When Faille recovers, my entire presence here may suddenly vanish. I nod along, "of course, my good man! Where should I meet you? Would you object to a small retinue of my own?"

    I do not know if Ro or Parfait would be interested in coming, but I do like to keep the option open.
  • Stayman answers curtly, "Meet me at the docks at dawn. We'll take my barge over. Bring your retinue, as long as they aren't afraid of the water."

    Nehi smiles, excited to see how you hit it off. Any extra work you get to help her partners only makes you look better in their eyes, which makes you more valuable for her pursuits.
  • Huh... I don't suspect any of them are afraid of water, but I suppose you never know. I nod and look to the group, "Excellent! Well, then I suppose I should leave you to your business — I must check in on some of my colleagues before the day is out, and I only wanted to let you know what has transpired. Nehi, a pleasure as always my dear... Stayman, Fortune, it was a pleasure meeting you both." I smile, and rise from the table. Pausing to let them say whatever piece they feel necessary.

    How is Ro faring over by the tables?
  • (Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 5, 3. Total: 11)
  • Ro is kicking total ass. He's got several stacks of chips by him, laughing and chatting up the crowd.

    Toot is blowing on his, uhm, his dice and people are hooting and cheering him. You notice a few of the casino thugs are eyeing him real close. It might be too much.
  • Wonderful... Every night we come here, and Ro either wins, or loses, a significant amount of money — and yet they only seem to care when Ro is winning. I approach the table casually, and pat Ro on the back, "Fortune smiles on you again tonight, I see... You're making friends all over the place!" I eye the thugs watching Ro closely to bring them to his attention, "I think it might be time to cash out, don't you?"
  • Ro looks at you, Jack. Then across the room. He says, "Yo, Toot. Let's get our jingle an hit the town."

    Tootsie Roll looks around, a what-the-frak look on her face. She spots two big lugs coming your way and says, "Hey! Let the man throw! Switch dice or whatever you frakkin want. But Ro throws and you aint stoppin him!"

    That alarms Ro a bit and he's like, trying to pull Toot aside, but she's moving towards the guards, like she's going to get in their faces.

    You know she's got a pistol stuck in the back of her jeans skirt, hidden by her top.

    What do you do?
  • Fantastic...

    I pat Ro on the shoulder, and quickly make my way around the table over to Tootsie. "Tootsie Roll, dear," I call quietly, trying to stop her before she gets to the guards, "let's not do anything rash!"
  • Toot looks at you, a flash of ire in her pretty eyes. She wants to mix it up, make trouble, protect her man. But she trusts you, you've led her to this slice of happy she has now.

    She pauses, looks down at the floor and huffs a sigh of exasperation. "Is this what Ro would want?" She asks it low. To you.
  • I nod quickly, and look back to Ro, "I can guarantee you that a showdown in this place would not end well. This is not the first time Ro's been asked, politely or not, to stop winning at something — and I have never seen it break his spirits. What he would want, however, is to spend a wonderful evening with you in high luxury," I smile, and guide her gaze over to the top shelf of Stakes' bar, "on Stakes' dime."
  • Toot purses her lips, mulling that over. She turns to you and slaps your shoulder, which smarts, then keeps her hand there, rubbing it, "Your're a good man, Charlie Brown. If you didn't have a wonderful woman like Parfait, I'd say I owe you a hummer!" She looks over at Ro for a reaction.

    Of course, the casino has already started watching this interaction, since Ro'd stopped throwing dice and the guards were coming in an obvious fashion, and Toot was yelling. So, yeah, everyone heard that. Toot did that on purpose.
  • Charlie Brown?

    I smile bemusedly, and nod in agreement, "yes, well... I'm actually looking for an Arr-Vee," I joke, "speaking of which, I promised to check in on Parfait up in the room before the end of the evening. What are you two up to now? Renting a room here? Heading out? ... I've got a job lined up tomorrow if either of you are interested."
  • Ro joins you, he doesn't get the joke, but Toot does (or pretends she does, hard to tell). Ro answers, "We're going to head out on a cruise tonight..."

    Toot cuts in, saying loudly, "All on Stakes dole, yo!"

    That gets a chuckle out of Ro. He adds, "When do you want us to meet up with you in the morning?"
  • Hrm... "Well, dawn is when they're leaving — but don't cut your evening short on my account. I'm sure Parfait would appreciate your company, should she choose to stay behind."
  • You all start moving for the door, I assume. Ro sort of leads the way, not wanting Toot to be tempted to make trouble after you talked her down. Toot declares, "Ro Ro will stick around with Parfait, let her rest, give her company. I'll watch yer sexy backside, Jackie."

    Ro chuckles, "You might be a little tired, at dawn."

    Tootsie Roll puts an arm around you, Jack, and Ro, too. "What ever. I'll be five by five. I won't let my little Jack in the Box get hurt." She squeezes you both.
  • My eyes widen in surprise when Tootsie Roll calls me by my full name... Nobody's called me that in a long, long time. I smile nervously and nod, then turn to Ro, "you're OK with this arrangement?"
  • Ro's gives you this level look. "First of all, I love you like a brother. Secondly, I don't own Toot, just like her a bunch. Third, if you trust me to make Par Par happy, then I'll leave you in Tootsie's capable hands."

    Toot kisses Ro on the cheek, then turns and kisses you on the cheek. You get out to the lobby, and she lets go. They pause before heading on out.

    What do you do?
  • I smirk at Ro's implication that I would not trust her with Parfait. "Please, Ro... I think we both know Parfait loves your company. I hope the trip won't take more than a day... But considering we're going by boat, well... Who knows."

    I stop in the lobby, and turn to face them by the door, "enjoy your cruise, lovebirds." Then I suppose I'll go spend an evening with my marvelous wife.
  • edited February 2014
    Toot chuckles and Ro gives you a grin as they head on. Ro looks over his shoulder, "Give Parfait good wishes!"

    You hear Toot almost out of earshot say, "Did you hear Jack in the Box? He called us lovebirds. Hah, isn't that hilarious?"

    Then they're around the corner and gone.

    I assume you head upstairs?
  • There it is again... I sincerely hope she's the type who makes up nicknames. Still. How did she know to call me that?

    In any case, Yes. I'm heading upstairs. I need to relax.
  • You head up the stairs to your room. It isn't penthouse, but it does face the lake. Or ocean, based on who you talk to.

    When you start heading down the hallway, you see Parfait. She's walking slowly, one hand on her belly, the other holding the wall. She's wearing a dress, since none of her pants fit anymore. The lower part of her dress is wet. She looks really sweaty, in pain and worried.

    What do you do?
  • It takes me a moment to realize what's going on, but something instinctual kicks in when I spot the wet spot on the lower half of her dress. I run up to her, and pick her up, then immediately bolt for the doctor's...

    "Hold on, my love," I whisper, trying to stay as stone-faced as possible, "Hold on tight. I've got you. We're getting help." I don't think I have ever run as fast as I am running right now.
  • Okay, Jack. I think this is a charged situation, yeah? I'd like to see you Act Under Fire here. A full hit means you get there without major incident. A failure means she'll have to give birth before you reach the clinic.
  • OOC: Holy shit! AUF incoming... Roll+Cool.
    (Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 1, 1. Total: 3)
  • You're chugging along, making your way back down the stairs, trying to rush, trying to be careful. Adrenalin surges through you, giving you this amazing strength. Parfait is obviously in some pain, drenched with sweat, her water broke, but she's gritting her teeth and trying to stay focused.

    When you get to the second floor, she cries out in pain and surprise. You hold for a moment, letting her catch a breath before you continue. She looks at you, "He is coming NOW, my love. I need you... Please. Please, let us bring him to the outside world. Get me outside, Jack!"
  • This early? ... I ... I suppose I don't have a choice. As I said — our son will come on his own time. I pick up the pace for the ground floor, and yell out to Stakes as we pass the main desk, "Get me Nehi please! It's an emergency!" ... I have no idea where to go... I have very little idea what to do... I've only seen two children birthed in my entire life, and I was five at the first — thirteen at the second. I don't even stop as I make my way out the door.

    "Outside," I mutter between breaths, "Ok... Outside..." I look around... Most of this district is housing, and the market by the oasis, but there is a small patch of grass under a tree by the water... It leans away from the water with a beautiful view. I suppose that is as good a spot as any.

    I put her down so she can sit against the trunk of the tree, and give her a kiss for strength. "I'm here, my love," I huff as hike up her dress to assess how bad the situation is...
  • When you set Parfait down, she runs her hand along the tree's trunk, feeling the rough bark. She smiles a weak smile. "This is... this is perfect, Jack. He will come to the earth, like we did. You will be... the first to hold him."

    You pull up her dress, and you can see his little hair head already poking out. It's the most beautiful ugly thing you've ever seen. To the end of your day, you will remember seeing him for the first time.

    There's a problem, though. The dress, it was a dark burgundy, one that Toot bought at market with some jingle for Parfait. Toot said it make Par Par look elegant. Well, the problem is that her water broke, and she's bleeding. Quite a lot, really.

    "Jack... do you have a knife? You need it. For the cord." Parfait says weakly. Then, she grunts with effort, and right at that moment, you see three more inches of your son come out into the world. You also see the cord, the umbilical cord.

    It's around his neck.

    What do you do?
  • edited February 2014
    I freeze, if only for a moment, when I spot the blood — but the sight of my son's head crowning pulls me back into the moment. I reach into my coat pocket and produce a scalpel for cutting the cord — but there's so much blood, and the sight of the umbilical around his neck has me panicked...

    I am so completely removed from my element, that I cannot begin to know what to do. "Parfait, my love," I whisper, "I can see him... I can see our son... But the cord... It's around his neck, and you're bleeding..." I look up at her, pleading, "please, my love... I don't know what to do!"
  • Your wife, the love of your life, covered in sweat and blood, occasionally sucking in breaths to keep from crying out in pain, looks at you. There is a small crowd gathering, watching the spectacle of this. But she only has eyes for you as you kneel at her feet, looking at your son, seconds from coming into the world and already in mortal danger.

    Parfait "Jack. Darling Jack. You can do it. I delivered babes with the tribe... trust in me, I will guide you. Do not worry. We will bring him to the world together." She holds your gaze, calming you with her will. "I'm going to push. Tell me when his head has crested.... you might be able to loosen... the cord. Hold his head for me."

    She spends a few moments trying to push. Eventually, your son's ears push past the opening of her body, then you see his eyes, which are closed. His cheeks, then his mouth and finally his chin. He carries some of your features, Jack, but some of Parfait's as well. Which feature strikes you first?

    When you follow a professional's direction on a complicated task, roll+cool.
    On a full hit, you're able to ease your son out and unwind the cord from his neck. On a 7-9, you'll need to cut the chord.

    On a miss, you'll need to cut the chord, and you only have one implement to use as a clamp, meaning the other side of the cut will bleed rather badly until you can obtain help.
  • I look up at her, from my rather grim vantage point, and nod... I must keep my wits about me. I cannot fail here. Parfait needs me to deliver our son — but I cannot do it without her. I listen to every order attentively, doing my best to listen to that voice in her head — the one that can tell me what she's forgotten to say — all the while using my jacket to clean the area of blood and sweat, and catch our son.

    If there truly are gods watching over us in the skies, I would do anything for a taste of your blessing right now...
  • OOC: Let's deliver this baby! Roll+Cool...
    (Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 3, 5. Total: 9)
  • OOC: Burning my bond with Parfait to make that a 10.
  • edited February 2014
    Jack, you feel around the cord, and find it It's just loose enough, if you can manage it without hurting her. Parfait senses the trouble, and says through clenched teeth, "Jack, it will be alright, we will be fine. You must loose the chord... you can do it. I will live, darling, do not hold fear in your heart. The gods above and below bless us now."

    You're able to do this now. How did it work out, Jack?
  • It worked out reasonably well, I would say... Of course my hands were unsure, and I was nervous, but Parfait's voice and constant direction kept me in the moment. The cord was loose enough that I could carefully unwind it, and slip it over our son's head. A surprisingly simple tactic — but of course, I never would have thought of it in the moment... I likely would have ended up cutting the cord, and killing them both.

    I take a second, once the cord is removed, to truly look at the young man in front of me... Aside from the light-brown hair caked to his little head, I am most stricken by his wide mouth — an obvious trait of his mother's... It would seem our boy is destined to smile wide. A small grace, given the hardships he is destined for.

    But the tension is not released — this was merely a small victory in the grand scheme of birthing our son. I look up to Parfait when the noose is released from our son's neck, and take a soothing breath, "It is done. He is free. I have his head... It is soft, at the crown. Is that right? Can I hold up his head without hurting him?" A million other questions are running through my head, but Parfait's pained gaze silences me.

    Right. I must focus. "His head is free, my love, and I have him. My hands are yours to command."
  • Parfait looks down at you, and forces the corners her mouth up in a smile, but there's a grimace underneath. Through clenched teeth, she says, "You did it, my love."

    She guides you through the process of finishing the delivery. She will need medical attention, but for now, she is safe enough. With what energy she has left, she walks you through cutting the cord.

    As she lies there, your son begins screaming his first breaths, angry at the new world and blinking unfocused eyes at his surroundings.

    What do you do?
  • I did do it. I delivered our son into the world! How ironic that my hands are shaking in spite of the incredible feeling coursing through my veins. I feel like I could laugh, cry, and collapse all at once.

    I stand there breathlessly with my son in my arms, as I struggle to clamp off the umbilical cord, I am completely unable to muster the words I imagined I would have to greet him into this world — but I am radiating love, awe, and understanding at the young man screaming in my hands. Perhaps on instinct — the only one that comes naturally to me — my mind opens wide to him, and reach out to soothe his troubled thoughts with the assurances I know but cannot say.

    It will be alright, my son. Your parents are here — and we will love you, and protect you, until the end of time.
  • You feel his confusion, his worry, his anger at being ripped away from his home, but no fear. There is no fear in him. Then, you speak, and he stops screaming. He calms, relaxes, moving feebly around. You don't "hear" back words, but his eyes track you as you loom close, you feel him reaching out to you.

    He understands you, Jack.

    What do you call him?
  • edited February 2014
    Joy fills my heart as his eyes track me, and I cannot contain a smile... He is like me. I can feel it. I gently kiss his forehead, and raise the young man up to meet his mother. "Meet our son, my love..."

    I'm going to be perfectly honest... The concept of naming our son has never come up. It isn't something that is typically done... Personal agency is taken rather seriously in the tribe, and children are generally not named — at least until they can choose their own name ... This may cause some problems in the immediate future. People are going to expect us to name him. I suppose there is the Wendy traditional name for children — nugget — but that would certainly not be a viable name forever, as not choosing a name often leads to ostracization.

    I smile as I hand him to Parfait, "he is as handsome as you are beautiful." Then I turn back to the crowd in search of a familiar face... Anyone. I remember calling out for Nehi, but in the event she isn't here I simply announce, "a month's food and lodging to the first person who brings me a doctor and a stretcher!"
  • edited February 2014
    You hear Nehi in the crowd as she moves up, followed by Fortune, "I'll take that." She huffs a single laugh while a couple of the guards, who just an hour ago might have thrown you two out, are now bringing out a makeshift stretcher, which is a pair of umbrella poles from the small area outside the hotel, and several sheets.

    Fortune comes up, "I'm no doctor, but I was a midwife for a few years, let me look." He has the guards load up Parfait, and insists on you carrying Nugget. "Come come, let's get her to the clinic for proper treatment. Infection is our enemy."

    The trip, on foot, to the clinic is simultaneously forever, and also over before you ever feel tired. Nugget doesn't cry anymore. He's pulling your energy, he senses your worry, somehow/ You know you're upsetting him, but how do you turn that off?
  • I'll happily pay Nehi the jingle for her assistance here. In fact, when this is all over with, I'll insist it.

    I cannot hide my fears from my son... If he is truly like me, then it will start with empathy — a concept foreign to so many members of the tribe — and blossom into so much more. To turn it off... It's not something I've ever had to do before. I can mask it, though... Wrap it in certainty that I will do any and everything it takes to save Parfait.

    I walk alongside the stretcher, looking down on my marvelous wife, the mother of my child, and offer the strongest smile I can muster... I could not have saved our son without her. I cannot conceive of how I to raise this child without her. I've been saving for an RV ever since we landed here in Oasis, but I would happily blow every single bit of jingle I've accumulated — and more, if creditors would have me — to save my wife.
  • --END SCENE--
Sign In or Register to comment.