I should be sleeping like a log.
Gunnar had the good sense to go get some shuteye, and if I were smarter I would join him and sleep off the couple of shots I had. The second I volunteered my house, I had a glorious vision of spending a night back in my own extremely comfortable bed and soft pillows and blankets after a month away from home. I can't remember the last time I actually slept a whole night.
It won't be tonight, there's been too much to do.
All in all, I would call today a "win." We got most of the kids out of the compound and back here. Carmen bailed halfway through the trip. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't relieved. The way she yelled at Susan, the way she kept hitting on Nate... Ugh. She was a troublemaker. She might still be, if we run into her again. The only other one we lost was... Azeeza. She was dead before we got there, taken and... And I don't know what. It's distressing and frustrating, but I only have conjectures at this point. I promised her I would find out what happened, and that I would make it right. Fuck.
I have no idea how. Well, not yet. But I will, gods damn it. All things in their own time, I suppose.
At least I'm certain I'll have Gunnar's help in... well, everything, I guess. Anything that wants a chance at me has to go through him, he said when we decided we were dating. Tonight he said he's sticking to it, even after I told him about what Mary wanted me to do. After studying the relics we found some time and some space to talk, privately. It was hard telling him about what I'd seen, heard and said. He needed to know. I promised myself from the beginning never to keep anything from him, even though I felt the shakes coming and the tears welling up and that shrapnel feeling shredding my throat and my stomach.
He just hugged me, and said he was glad that I made the choice I had, and... and some of the weight just went away, like he was shouldering it for me. I think I was afraid he wasn't going to feel that way, but he did. That maybe he'd agree when I called it the easy way, but he didn't. That he wouldn't say he'd murder anyone who came to collect, like I'm pretty sure I would. But he did, and I was foolish for harboring those fears for even an instant. So when the time comes he's coming with me, because we'd both rather make the trip to Hell than give Erzulie a "replacement" of our own.
He's sticking with me, and I'm sticking with him. He made the point that Tim might have been a Scion, too. So Gunnar might be in just as much trouble as I am.
But he's not in it alone, either. Anything that wants to get at him has to go through through me, I promised him. I tried to make light of it, the way he offered to vacation with me in Hell, but I'm fairly certain he knew how deathly serious I was. Otherwise it's hard to believe he would have said that was reassuring.
Then I'm pretty sure he drank my bar as we spent a while just talking about nothing, everything... anything. It was very pleasant feeling the alcohol soaking my cells and making some of those worries take a nap for a while.
Gunnar apologized for drinking so much, which I told him not to worry about. There's always more booze and I'm such a light drinker that it was just nice to have that room get used. Then he decided to take a nap and I pointed the way to my room, if he wanted a bed to sleep in. I stayed up.
I had wanted to try hanging out with Susan in the music room, but she was already asleep. It's probably better that we didn't start playing loud music, because everyone else was asleep too. Good thing I'd already talked to Gunter earlier that night.
Well, by talked I mean I lost my patience with his attitude. Maybe I shouldn't have told him that if I really didn't care, I'd have left his ass back at Denny's. It was true though. I'm worried about the kid, and I want what's best for him. Just seems like I have to prove it.
My plan after that was to check out those vials we found at the compound, but I remembered that I had abandoned my plans to convert one of the guest rooms into a lab when I left last month. I hadn't even gotten very far, mostly just the "this is the crap I'm going to need to have a convincing medical lab" stage. Other people call it "planning." Anyway, it will have to wait until the morning.
Finally I settled for talking to Brigitte, and I found her in the backyard staring at the Bay. I tried to get some idea what to expect about paying my debt to Mary, and I didn't really find any surprises: Woe to the person (me, of course and by proxy, Gunnar) on Erzulie's bad side. Brigitte's dad doesn't give favors for nothing. And Brigitte laughed when she said Guinnee is humid, whatever that means. Something about a drowned road, and me being too lily to actually go there.
Still, I think I should pick up some really good rum for the Baron.
And tell Gunnar it's not for drinking.
So tomorrow I need to stop by the hospital and run some tests on the vials we found, as well as calling in some favors to get ahold of some formaldehyde. I might think about having a second, heavy-duty refrigerator installed in the garage or something, as well.
I think we've basically figured out what to do with the kids. Jack offered to take the twins up to Spokane. They have a mom who, aside from being irritated that they break stuff all the time, loves them. So we can send them home. Amanda has family who wants her back, too. Gunnar, Camila and I are going to handle that one. Susan's parents are dead, so I told her that since we're family she can stay at my house. Charlotte, Gunter and Brendan Gair are going to stay too, because Charlotte's family is overseas, Gunter has nowhere else to go and Gair's foster parents were abusing him.
So I guess I'm running an orphanage. Good thing I lost my mom to cancer, and not crime, otherwise there'd be a danger of me becoming Batman. Anyway, Gunnar's got the caped-crusader covered.
After dropping off Amanda, Gunnar and I are going to L.A. with Camila to retrieve mine and Nate's cars, a package for Gunnar, and Brigitte's body.
Nate is going to stay at my house and keep an eye on Susan, Gunter and Charlotte while O'Shea looks into assuming guardianship of Gair. I'll give Susan some money and every number she can use to get ahold of me and tell her I want at least one update a day.
Nate's been hitting on her. I might have to take his kneecaps.
I've begun publishing unfinished entries as a way of allowing readers to preview the entries which are yet to come. Also, the dates don't mean anything as far as actual in-game chronology goes.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Communication Breakdown
Ok, calm down, Laurel. Either you're so pretty he doesn't mind how incredibly awkward you are, or he is being completely honest when he says he loves you. You know, either one's alright by me.
When everyone else went in to get the table and food, Gunnar asked me to hang back and talk for a second. I wasn't sure what to expect, so I started off by explaining to him that I didn't mean to put him on the spot like that, I just managed to forget about everybody else. When we're not in the midst of a shootout, he kinda does that to me.
"That's not something I usually say," I explained, which was true. I think the last time I said those words was almost a decade ago, the last time I talked to my mom and she was really there to hear me. I never even said it to Hal, who deserved it after putting up with me for two and a half years. "But after that explosion -- which sent me running to find you -- I realized it was true and even if it wasn't reciprocal or you were one of those guys who takes a while to be sure I wanted to make sure you knew that I was sure."
Yeah, that thing where I get nervous and ramble and my sentences just get longer until finally the creeping realization that I should just shut the hell up finally catches up with the speed of my mouth? Always fucking happens when I'm talking to him. When I'm in the hospital or just dealing with the normal guys who stare when I walk by, I'm all cool and finesse. But this guy I met in Vegas gives me a goofy grin, and then I'm tripping over my own tongue. I remembered to breathe, and moved on to the actual point.
"If you do actually feel like you need to go back to Chicago, then... just lemme know if you want some company. I'm not sure when I'd make it out there, but I've always wanted to see the city. Or, um, if you just want space... then that's fine too. I can just work on things out here for a while... I mean, I need to figure out what to do with all of these kids..." And I went through the list of all the shit that would keep me away if he left, until finally he shut me up.
"It's not a big deal, about saying, 'I love you,'" he started. "I'm cool with it, and I love you too." And I'm a little glad that I had so much on my mind, and that it took a second for that bit to sink in, because I probably would have just embarrassed myself again. Because I had so much on my mind, my ears kept functioning and I heard the part that was really important: "I want to help you -- and I refuse to ignore these kids." It was good to know that our priorities line up pretty much the same when it comes to catching these sick bastards. "Inexcusable" I think was the word he used. He said he's going to look into the ghost thing when he's got time, but mostly he's creeped out.
I told him I was too, a little. Since we were being honest. "This isn't like you," I admitted. Not like what I knew of him, anyway. "I've got this image of you in my head. You... you're Superhero-Gunnar," I told him, grinning kinda proudly. "You barrel in where angels fear to tread, and you shake off explosions like pillowfights." I got a grin out of him too, at that. It was more like normal, and that was a relief. He said he could get used to being called that and I couldn't help but return that smile. I told him I was going to tap into Sibyl later, then I mentioned offhandedly and without thinking that I'd think about adopting some of these kids, if I weren't about to go cross country. I'm still thinking about it, but I'm a little scared what might happen in the interim. Gair seems to have awful luck with foster homes, and I don't know if Susan has any family. Any family besides me, that is. I'd be glad to take her in, and I ... I'm getting away from the point. I told Gunnar that if there was any way I could help him shake off the funk, all he had to do was ask. If I'd thought of something already, he wouldn't have to ask.
But he had thought of something, that maybe that guy... Tim? put some sort of curse on him or something. He had an idea that maybe getting the rifle out of his possession would help. So he said he wanted me to take it, and some stuff about if someone else would be better they could take it that I didn't really hear. I put my hand on my throat like in those stupid jewelry commercials and romantic comedies, and put on my best fake emotional voice and told him, "You had me at 'take the rifle.'" So now I have a sniper rifle, and a boyfriend who, I know, loves me. Rock on.
When everyone else went in to get the table and food, Gunnar asked me to hang back and talk for a second. I wasn't sure what to expect, so I started off by explaining to him that I didn't mean to put him on the spot like that, I just managed to forget about everybody else. When we're not in the midst of a shootout, he kinda does that to me.
"That's not something I usually say," I explained, which was true. I think the last time I said those words was almost a decade ago, the last time I talked to my mom and she was really there to hear me. I never even said it to Hal, who deserved it after putting up with me for two and a half years. "But after that explosion -- which sent me running to find you -- I realized it was true and even if it wasn't reciprocal or you were one of those guys who takes a while to be sure I wanted to make sure you knew that I was sure."
Yeah, that thing where I get nervous and ramble and my sentences just get longer until finally the creeping realization that I should just shut the hell up finally catches up with the speed of my mouth? Always fucking happens when I'm talking to him. When I'm in the hospital or just dealing with the normal guys who stare when I walk by, I'm all cool and finesse. But this guy I met in Vegas gives me a goofy grin, and then I'm tripping over my own tongue. I remembered to breathe, and moved on to the actual point.
"If you do actually feel like you need to go back to Chicago, then... just lemme know if you want some company. I'm not sure when I'd make it out there, but I've always wanted to see the city. Or, um, if you just want space... then that's fine too. I can just work on things out here for a while... I mean, I need to figure out what to do with all of these kids..." And I went through the list of all the shit that would keep me away if he left, until finally he shut me up.
"It's not a big deal, about saying, 'I love you,'" he started. "I'm cool with it, and I love you too." And I'm a little glad that I had so much on my mind, and that it took a second for that bit to sink in, because I probably would have just embarrassed myself again. Because I had so much on my mind, my ears kept functioning and I heard the part that was really important: "I want to help you -- and I refuse to ignore these kids." It was good to know that our priorities line up pretty much the same when it comes to catching these sick bastards. "Inexcusable" I think was the word he used. He said he's going to look into the ghost thing when he's got time, but mostly he's creeped out.
I told him I was too, a little. Since we were being honest. "This isn't like you," I admitted. Not like what I knew of him, anyway. "I've got this image of you in my head. You... you're Superhero-Gunnar," I told him, grinning kinda proudly. "You barrel in where angels fear to tread, and you shake off explosions like pillowfights." I got a grin out of him too, at that. It was more like normal, and that was a relief. He said he could get used to being called that and I couldn't help but return that smile. I told him I was going to tap into Sibyl later, then I mentioned offhandedly and without thinking that I'd think about adopting some of these kids, if I weren't about to go cross country. I'm still thinking about it, but I'm a little scared what might happen in the interim. Gair seems to have awful luck with foster homes, and I don't know if Susan has any family. Any family besides me, that is. I'd be glad to take her in, and I ... I'm getting away from the point. I told Gunnar that if there was any way I could help him shake off the funk, all he had to do was ask. If I'd thought of something already, he wouldn't have to ask.
But he had thought of something, that maybe that guy... Tim? put some sort of curse on him or something. He had an idea that maybe getting the rifle out of his possession would help. So he said he wanted me to take it, and some stuff about if someone else would be better they could take it that I didn't really hear. I put my hand on my throat like in those stupid jewelry commercials and romantic comedies, and put on my best fake emotional voice and told him, "You had me at 'take the rifle.'" So now I have a sniper rifle, and a boyfriend who, I know, loves me. Rock on.
Heart Cooks Brain
"It's a bad thought
On the way to god don't know
My brain's the burger and my heart's the coal
I'm trying to get my head clear
I push things out through my mouth I get refilled through my ears
I'm on my way to god don't know or even care
My brain's the weak heart and my heart's the long stairs..."
Modest Mouse, Heart Cooks Brain
I got back in the van, and I let the silence just... sit for a while. I was really glad to see Bridgitte talking to Azeeza, but just watching them... It's like I failed them both, and it feels like there's a big weight on my heart.
Then, when Gunnar said he was going to take some time off from everything, I found myself suddenly lacking the power to just keep my mouth shut. I'm pretty sure I grimaced, but only partly because of what he'd said.
"Like," I hesitated, because I wasn't sure I really wanted the answer. "Time off from everything? Time off from me? Did I ... do something?" Yeah. The first thing I did was ask if he was breaking up with me because of something I did. I've known the guy about a month, and already I've got abandonment issues. Somewhere, in the back of my head, I think the "me" that understands privacy, boundaries and common fucking sense was just yelling that I should shut up before I embarrassed us both. So smooth, Laurel.
He, thankfully, exclaimed (yes, with a !) that it wasn't me. He just thought maybe he needed some sleep. So I, trying to be helpful, mentioned the fact that there are several perfectly functional beds at my house - to which we were heading. And not even in the sleazy way.
He mentioned that he's been tired, kinda like this before. After Vegas, but that was a solid month of being thrown into the unknown. New people, new tasks, some of us meeting our parents for the first time, and fighting the roller-snake... It made sense that that might wear a person out. But, he pointed out, tonight was just like his regular job - just a few more targets and a few people helping. It shouldn't have worn him out.
It was almost painful to watch, like the fight had just gone out of him. I'm used to feeling like he's about to move a mountain, like there's this energy rolling off of him, so strong it's even hard for me to keep still. But this? This was... depressing. Scary. A little sad.
Then I tried to tell him I understood if he needed a break that badly, but it came out kinda wrong like it usually does when I open my mouth around him. I meant to say, "I really care about you so I understand if you need some time, even though just being around you makes me feel safer and because of my own obligations I don't think I can take a break with you like I'd want... provided you want me around." Instead it pretty much came out, "I love you, don't leave me." I have so much finesse. And, like I said earlier, the worst fucking timing.
So then, with a little blinking because I probably surprised him just blurting it out like that, he made it clear that he wasn't taking a break from me. Something was just wearing him out, that he didn't think it was actually him since it was right after he shot that guy - who was apparently named Tim. I surprisingly did not give a single solitary fuck what his name was.
Gunnar shifted a little in the driver's seat, and tried to give me that grin of his, that devil may care look that makes my heart skip a beat... But it didn't look right, which really was a hell of a lot more unnerving than the following realization. Because of my stupid girl brain chemistry and overabundance of estrogen and underabundance of basic reasoning faculties (and I could probably blame the adrenaline from the mission we'd just pulled off, too), I picked up on what he didn't say. Shit. How many days does it take for Laurel to mess up a really, fantastically, amazingly good thing? Um, about five, apparently.
I started stuttering in my own eloquently awkward way. "I didn't mean... I didn't want... Um, I just wanted you to know." And that was true. I wanted to tell him before we headed into the compound because I'm a little bit scared that he'll never know how grateful I am about how strong he makes me feel, like I can accomplish any damn thing I want. I'm also a little bit scared that one of us might not walk out of the next building we walk into. So, brilliantly, I just offered to drive if he was tired.
Someday I'll be more perceptive, and might avoid these types of conversations. But not today, nope. Which is why he said, "Well, it's not like I... I just..." and he looked in the rearview mirror, and that was when I remembered that we were on a long trip in a van full of mostly strangers. And here I was, laying my heart out for a live studio audience. Can you hear the sound of my face hitting my palms? Shit. "It's not like I, uh, disagree," Gunnar continued. "I just... yeah." Yeah. Oh, Awkward and Silence? I'm so glad you guys are getting along. Maybe I should book you a room. You fucking bastards.
Trying to salvage the conversation, I switched topics.
To a dead kid, because I'm that smooth. My biography will be narrated and performed by Michael Cera, and together we shall rule this world with an awkward fist.
I told Gunnar I'd found the missing kid, when I asked him to stop. I think I started whispering because I have no idea how well ghosts can hear. Gunnar said something about a weird existence, while I agonized over how young the girl was. "Gods, Gunnar," I said. "She's just a kid. Well... She was." And then, not because that switch that says 'stop talking, you're just making it worse' came on, but because my eyes got blurry and throat started burning, I just let the silence fall.
Thank the gods Jack started talking about food.
On the way to god don't know
My brain's the burger and my heart's the coal
I'm trying to get my head clear
I push things out through my mouth I get refilled through my ears
I'm on my way to god don't know or even care
My brain's the weak heart and my heart's the long stairs..."
Modest Mouse, Heart Cooks Brain
I got back in the van, and I let the silence just... sit for a while. I was really glad to see Bridgitte talking to Azeeza, but just watching them... It's like I failed them both, and it feels like there's a big weight on my heart.
Then, when Gunnar said he was going to take some time off from everything, I found myself suddenly lacking the power to just keep my mouth shut. I'm pretty sure I grimaced, but only partly because of what he'd said.
"Like," I hesitated, because I wasn't sure I really wanted the answer. "Time off from everything? Time off from me? Did I ... do something?" Yeah. The first thing I did was ask if he was breaking up with me because of something I did. I've known the guy about a month, and already I've got abandonment issues. Somewhere, in the back of my head, I think the "me" that understands privacy, boundaries and common fucking sense was just yelling that I should shut up before I embarrassed us both. So smooth, Laurel.
He, thankfully, exclaimed (yes, with a !) that it wasn't me. He just thought maybe he needed some sleep. So I, trying to be helpful, mentioned the fact that there are several perfectly functional beds at my house - to which we were heading. And not even in the sleazy way.
He mentioned that he's been tired, kinda like this before. After Vegas, but that was a solid month of being thrown into the unknown. New people, new tasks, some of us meeting our parents for the first time, and fighting the roller-snake... It made sense that that might wear a person out. But, he pointed out, tonight was just like his regular job - just a few more targets and a few people helping. It shouldn't have worn him out.
It was almost painful to watch, like the fight had just gone out of him. I'm used to feeling like he's about to move a mountain, like there's this energy rolling off of him, so strong it's even hard for me to keep still. But this? This was... depressing. Scary. A little sad.
Then I tried to tell him I understood if he needed a break that badly, but it came out kinda wrong like it usually does when I open my mouth around him. I meant to say, "I really care about you so I understand if you need some time, even though just being around you makes me feel safer and because of my own obligations I don't think I can take a break with you like I'd want... provided you want me around." Instead it pretty much came out, "I love you, don't leave me." I have so much finesse. And, like I said earlier, the worst fucking timing.
So then, with a little blinking because I probably surprised him just blurting it out like that, he made it clear that he wasn't taking a break from me. Something was just wearing him out, that he didn't think it was actually him since it was right after he shot that guy - who was apparently named Tim. I surprisingly did not give a single solitary fuck what his name was.
Gunnar shifted a little in the driver's seat, and tried to give me that grin of his, that devil may care look that makes my heart skip a beat... But it didn't look right, which really was a hell of a lot more unnerving than the following realization. Because of my stupid girl brain chemistry and overabundance of estrogen and underabundance of basic reasoning faculties (and I could probably blame the adrenaline from the mission we'd just pulled off, too), I picked up on what he didn't say. Shit. How many days does it take for Laurel to mess up a really, fantastically, amazingly good thing? Um, about five, apparently.
I started stuttering in my own eloquently awkward way. "I didn't mean... I didn't want... Um, I just wanted you to know." And that was true. I wanted to tell him before we headed into the compound because I'm a little bit scared that he'll never know how grateful I am about how strong he makes me feel, like I can accomplish any damn thing I want. I'm also a little bit scared that one of us might not walk out of the next building we walk into. So, brilliantly, I just offered to drive if he was tired.
Someday I'll be more perceptive, and might avoid these types of conversations. But not today, nope. Which is why he said, "Well, it's not like I... I just..." and he looked in the rearview mirror, and that was when I remembered that we were on a long trip in a van full of mostly strangers. And here I was, laying my heart out for a live studio audience. Can you hear the sound of my face hitting my palms? Shit. "It's not like I, uh, disagree," Gunnar continued. "I just... yeah." Yeah. Oh, Awkward and Silence? I'm so glad you guys are getting along. Maybe I should book you a room. You fucking bastards.
Trying to salvage the conversation, I switched topics.
To a dead kid, because I'm that smooth. My biography will be narrated and performed by Michael Cera, and together we shall rule this world with an awkward fist.
I told Gunnar I'd found the missing kid, when I asked him to stop. I think I started whispering because I have no idea how well ghosts can hear. Gunnar said something about a weird existence, while I agonized over how young the girl was. "Gods, Gunnar," I said. "She's just a kid. Well... She was." And then, not because that switch that says 'stop talking, you're just making it worse' came on, but because my eyes got blurry and throat started burning, I just let the silence fall.
Thank the gods Jack started talking about food.
Uprising
There's a little brain-filter that some people have which I seem to have not only disabled, but tossed out the window of an overpass on the PCH going about 180mph. Gunnar started acting weird so of course, the first... well, second thing I do is blurt out that I love him in a van full of mostly strangers during a three hour drive.
Foot and mouth, this is awkward and silence. I have a feeling you'll see a lot of each other. Yeah. I don't wanna talk about that now.
The encounter at the compound was... a mixed bag. I made sure to up Brendan's defenses this time, no repeats of that encounter at the hotel. I squeezed him on the shoulder, and after some other small talk I just said, "Because of last time." He didn't really look at me though, which was a little peculiar, I guess.
I did the same trick for Gunnar, thinking of the tendency seemingly innocuous objects have of exploding around him. I put my hand more on his neck and said, "Because I know you." And I wanted to say more, to tell him how I feel about him, but I decided this wasn't the right time. I am obviously a master of such judgment calls.
At first, my role involved a lot of waiting. I just hung back with Jack, Brendan and Nevermore. Gunnar and Nate went in first. "The plan" changed a few times, but I'm pretty sure every iteration involved superhero-Gunnar shooting people in the face. I'm not sure exactly how things went down while we waited, but we eventually got a text asking for a distraction. Jack suggested being a drunk wanderer and I thought about losing some clothing but ultimately decided fully armed and guns blazing was the best bet for an entry. Jack drove one van up to the gate of the compound and smacked a guy with the door. I was at the wheel of the other, and as soon as I saw him open his door I shut off the engine and was drawing Sibyl. Brendan was ready in the passenger's seat. I think we decided the signal was a bullet from Gunnar's sniper rifle. That's when I started shooting, anyways. I dropped the guy on my side, Nevermore went and helped Brendan out and then we phalanxed up with Jack. He stood behind what used to be the gate to the compound. It worked, for like a minute. I guess they figured someone was behind that gate, and shot it all to Hell. I don't really remember how everything went from there. Adrenaline probably messed with my memory; I was pretty much acting on reflexes. Guys came out of the buildings, we shot them. I remember Brendan taking a hit, which would have been so much worse if I hadn't taken the time to talk to him, and then he hopped up on the roof, I guess with Gunnar. Nate, Jack and I met up inside the building, in the cafeteria. One of the kids, who has this really cute (and big) dog was helping us, apparently. I'll just go with it. We were starting to talk about how to get the kids out when more armed jackasses started pouring in. Jack started knocking shit over, and that seemed like a good idea. It took a minute or two, especially since the assholes poured in from two different directions, but we dropped them all.
Then there was an explosion.
Dammit, Gunnar. I took off running, and I shouldn't have because Jack actually got hit with a couple of bullets, but it turns out Nate is a decent surgeon. Gunnar was walking away from (what used to be) the adjacent building, nonchalantly picking shrapnel out of his face, Brendan following behind and looking a bit... upset.
We rejoined the guys (and girl?) and the kids, eventually found some birthrights and weapons and other items of import. One item was a pair of glasses, which little Brenden Gair said I should wear to talk to a lady who'd been trying to get my attention for a while. And next to me stood Bridgitte Delacroix herself, apparently frustrated because none of us are Bruce Willis. She told me I could hang on to the glasses until we got her body back to New Orleans (well, she asked if we'd do that part). Then it was up to her dad whether the loan would continue.
Nate and Gunnar went to go get the vans, and we started escorting the kids down the road. We take like, two steps when one of the kids, a boy, tripped another kid, a girl. So, apparently like you do when you're a pre-teen, she fucking wheels around and stabs him with a goddamn trident. WTF.
I text Gunnar, "Kids fighting, get back here." The kids had no idea what was up, and they acted like amnesiacs. We adult types figured supernatural influence, but Gunnar said he'd searched the whole compound and there was no one left. Logic said they'd be somewhere off the compound, so I volunteered Nevermore for some recon. He's been surprisingly un-mouthy lately. He found a guy, then Nate, Gunnar and the new girl (Camila?) went to check on it. I heard a gunshot, then a bit after Nate and Camila came back. Gunnar trudged behind them, which was weird.
Then he said, "Yeah I just shot a guy. He told me to drop my gun and I didn't want to. I wanted to shoot him, so I did." Then... then he said he was thinking of wrapping things up here and going back to Chicago.
I think everyone could hear the look I gave him.
Before we were even able to get all the way off the dirt road, I saw a little girl, just standing there. Nobody else saw her, but I asked Gunnar to stop, and I got out to talk to her. I asked what she was doing there, and she told me she was taken from her room and didn't want to go back. I immediately thought of the one missing kid Nate had mentioned, and the lump started in my throat. I asked her name, which was Azeeza. "I... I don't wanna go back to the compound," she said to me. Eyes as big as the moon. She talked about how her parents were hurt, and she thought the guards did it. I wanted to pull her to me, hug her and tell her it would be okay, but I had the feeling my hands would just pass through her. I was afraid to test my theory and be right, so I just said, "Oh, sweetie. I don't think you have to worry about that."
I wish I could be more direct, and just say "because you're dead and we just killed all the guards we could find and when we find the next echelon we'll take care of them, too." But I couldn't. I didn't want to scare her, and I figured being dead was enough for one day. Instead, when she asked me what happened and I couldn't tell her, I displayed my uncanny ability to say the first thing on my mind without bothering to think about it. "I'm going to make you a promise, Azeeza. I am going to find out what happened to you. Then I will do everything in my power to make it right." She didn't really look comforted, but she looked a little less sad. "Azeeza? I don't break my promises." She nodded. Then she asked to come with me.
Gods damn it, why do they have to fuck with kids?
Foot and mouth, this is awkward and silence. I have a feeling you'll see a lot of each other. Yeah. I don't wanna talk about that now.
The encounter at the compound was... a mixed bag. I made sure to up Brendan's defenses this time, no repeats of that encounter at the hotel. I squeezed him on the shoulder, and after some other small talk I just said, "Because of last time." He didn't really look at me though, which was a little peculiar, I guess.
I did the same trick for Gunnar, thinking of the tendency seemingly innocuous objects have of exploding around him. I put my hand more on his neck and said, "Because I know you." And I wanted to say more, to tell him how I feel about him, but I decided this wasn't the right time. I am obviously a master of such judgment calls.
At first, my role involved a lot of waiting. I just hung back with Jack, Brendan and Nevermore. Gunnar and Nate went in first. "The plan" changed a few times, but I'm pretty sure every iteration involved superhero-Gunnar shooting people in the face. I'm not sure exactly how things went down while we waited, but we eventually got a text asking for a distraction. Jack suggested being a drunk wanderer and I thought about losing some clothing but ultimately decided fully armed and guns blazing was the best bet for an entry. Jack drove one van up to the gate of the compound and smacked a guy with the door. I was at the wheel of the other, and as soon as I saw him open his door I shut off the engine and was drawing Sibyl. Brendan was ready in the passenger's seat. I think we decided the signal was a bullet from Gunnar's sniper rifle. That's when I started shooting, anyways. I dropped the guy on my side, Nevermore went and helped Brendan out and then we phalanxed up with Jack. He stood behind what used to be the gate to the compound. It worked, for like a minute. I guess they figured someone was behind that gate, and shot it all to Hell. I don't really remember how everything went from there. Adrenaline probably messed with my memory; I was pretty much acting on reflexes. Guys came out of the buildings, we shot them. I remember Brendan taking a hit, which would have been so much worse if I hadn't taken the time to talk to him, and then he hopped up on the roof, I guess with Gunnar. Nate, Jack and I met up inside the building, in the cafeteria. One of the kids, who has this really cute (and big) dog was helping us, apparently. I'll just go with it. We were starting to talk about how to get the kids out when more armed jackasses started pouring in. Jack started knocking shit over, and that seemed like a good idea. It took a minute or two, especially since the assholes poured in from two different directions, but we dropped them all.
Then there was an explosion.
Dammit, Gunnar. I took off running, and I shouldn't have because Jack actually got hit with a couple of bullets, but it turns out Nate is a decent surgeon. Gunnar was walking away from (what used to be) the adjacent building, nonchalantly picking shrapnel out of his face, Brendan following behind and looking a bit... upset.
We rejoined the guys (and girl?) and the kids, eventually found some birthrights and weapons and other items of import. One item was a pair of glasses, which little Brenden Gair said I should wear to talk to a lady who'd been trying to get my attention for a while. And next to me stood Bridgitte Delacroix herself, apparently frustrated because none of us are Bruce Willis. She told me I could hang on to the glasses until we got her body back to New Orleans (well, she asked if we'd do that part). Then it was up to her dad whether the loan would continue.
Nate and Gunnar went to go get the vans, and we started escorting the kids down the road. We take like, two steps when one of the kids, a boy, tripped another kid, a girl. So, apparently like you do when you're a pre-teen, she fucking wheels around and stabs him with a goddamn trident. WTF.
I text Gunnar, "Kids fighting, get back here." The kids had no idea what was up, and they acted like amnesiacs. We adult types figured supernatural influence, but Gunnar said he'd searched the whole compound and there was no one left. Logic said they'd be somewhere off the compound, so I volunteered Nevermore for some recon. He's been surprisingly un-mouthy lately. He found a guy, then Nate, Gunnar and the new girl (Camila?) went to check on it. I heard a gunshot, then a bit after Nate and Camila came back. Gunnar trudged behind them, which was weird.
Then he said, "Yeah I just shot a guy. He told me to drop my gun and I didn't want to. I wanted to shoot him, so I did." Then... then he said he was thinking of wrapping things up here and going back to Chicago.
I think everyone could hear the look I gave him.
Before we were even able to get all the way off the dirt road, I saw a little girl, just standing there. Nobody else saw her, but I asked Gunnar to stop, and I got out to talk to her. I asked what she was doing there, and she told me she was taken from her room and didn't want to go back. I immediately thought of the one missing kid Nate had mentioned, and the lump started in my throat. I asked her name, which was Azeeza. "I... I don't wanna go back to the compound," she said to me. Eyes as big as the moon. She talked about how her parents were hurt, and she thought the guards did it. I wanted to pull her to me, hug her and tell her it would be okay, but I had the feeling my hands would just pass through her. I was afraid to test my theory and be right, so I just said, "Oh, sweetie. I don't think you have to worry about that."
I wish I could be more direct, and just say "because you're dead and we just killed all the guards we could find and when we find the next echelon we'll take care of them, too." But I couldn't. I didn't want to scare her, and I figured being dead was enough for one day. Instead, when she asked me what happened and I couldn't tell her, I displayed my uncanny ability to say the first thing on my mind without bothering to think about it. "I'm going to make you a promise, Azeeza. I am going to find out what happened to you. Then I will do everything in my power to make it right." She didn't really look comforted, but she looked a little less sad. "Azeeza? I don't break my promises." She nodded. Then she asked to come with me.
Gods damn it, why do they have to fuck with kids?
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Coming Back to Life
Lost in thought and lost in time
While the seeds of life and the seeds of change were planted
Outside the rain fell dark and slow
While I pondered on this dangerous but irresistible pastime
I took a heavenly ride through our silence
I knew the moment had arrived
For killing the past and coming back to life...
Father, I can't be like you. I want desperately to make you proud but I can't follow in your footsteps. From what I can tell, they lead to tragedy and loneliness, and this is not the life I want. I hear the whispers of bickering between you and your siblings, your father and your stepmother. You might very well care about them but I don't think you love them. Or maybe you do, but your duties and responsibilities are just so important that you can't really afford to love anyone. Just contemplating that sort of existence breaks my heart, Dad.
You've lived so very long, and your legacy is a trail of broken hearts, dead children, and flora that used to love you, once. A long and winding road, bordered with tombstones. Hyacinth, Cyparissus, Acantha, Daphne. I know you loved them, but Dad ... I am terrified of being just like you. I don't want the responsibilities that I take on to compromise, or even eradicate my ability to care for people. If I keep trying to live up to your name, to be just like you and follow in your wake, I'm going to get myself killed. Or worse, I'll get someone else killed, someone I'm only trying to protect. Someone I want only to love.
Your life looks really lonely, Dad. I don't want to be lonely anymore. I've been lonely since Mom died, and I can't stand the thought of a life as long as yours without anything to occupy my time besides the war against the Titans. But Dad... I hope you understand. I have a chance to change now. Gunnar, Brendan, Nate - even the laconic Jack - they're offering me a chance and a good reason to change. Through them and because of them I have a chance to be better, less vengeful. I shot that woman because it was what you would have done. You've killed people for less. When she used Nate's body against him, she committed an affront to every principle for which I stand. So I committed the same sin on a larger scale, in order to punish her. I justified it by saying I did it for someone else. Trying to be Daddy's little girl has only afforded me the luxury of being a hypocrite. I was so furious at her threat to a life that I took a life and that's not right, Dad. I don't want to be angry and so vengeful. I don't want to spend my life looking over my shoulder, waiting for the people I've pissed off to catch up with me. Or with my friends. That's not something I used to think about, Dad. But I hope that whatever does happen, happens just to me. I am the person who pulled that trigger and I am the one who deserves the fallout. I'm not sorry, but I'm scared, Dad. I'm absolutely terrified of what will happen when that Scion's parent comes after me. I was really stupid that night, Dad. Really fucking stupid. I shot... I killed a woman, and I'm really goddamned lucky that the ground opened up and swallowed her body, and that my gun doesn't leave behind casings. Thanks, by the way.
I could have really fucked things up for Gunnar and Nate, if they'd gotten connected to a murderer. And more than that, I know that Nate feels obligated to protect me since I killed her on his behalf. Brendan doesn't think I did anything wrong, Jack will probably just revel at the chance to hit something new. And Gunnar... he pretty much said that whatever wants to get to me has to go through him.
Oh, and Dad? Speaking of Gunnar, um... I almost married him about a week ago. Long story, kinda, but we're dating now. He makes me feel happy, and safe... Uh, so that's life. We're planning, as a group, a strike against a re-education facility that we think has been responsible for the abductions of other Scions. They might have Horace. They definitely have Susan and at least ten other kids. Maybe more. The abductions, according to someone we talked to, are global. Dad... they killed Bridgitte. I don't know how to tell Samedi.
And Dad, if you can tell Uncle Hermes something, Angela's ok. She's in jail for arson but we talked to her and she's alright, for now. Um, yeah. I should go get some rest for tomorrow. Thanks for listening, and I hope you understand about the "my own path" thing.
Night, Dad.
While the seeds of life and the seeds of change were planted
Outside the rain fell dark and slow
While I pondered on this dangerous but irresistible pastime
I took a heavenly ride through our silence
I knew the moment had arrived
For killing the past and coming back to life...
Father, I can't be like you. I want desperately to make you proud but I can't follow in your footsteps. From what I can tell, they lead to tragedy and loneliness, and this is not the life I want. I hear the whispers of bickering between you and your siblings, your father and your stepmother. You might very well care about them but I don't think you love them. Or maybe you do, but your duties and responsibilities are just so important that you can't really afford to love anyone. Just contemplating that sort of existence breaks my heart, Dad.
You've lived so very long, and your legacy is a trail of broken hearts, dead children, and flora that used to love you, once. A long and winding road, bordered with tombstones. Hyacinth, Cyparissus, Acantha, Daphne. I know you loved them, but Dad ... I am terrified of being just like you. I don't want the responsibilities that I take on to compromise, or even eradicate my ability to care for people. If I keep trying to live up to your name, to be just like you and follow in your wake, I'm going to get myself killed. Or worse, I'll get someone else killed, someone I'm only trying to protect. Someone I want only to love.
Your life looks really lonely, Dad. I don't want to be lonely anymore. I've been lonely since Mom died, and I can't stand the thought of a life as long as yours without anything to occupy my time besides the war against the Titans. But Dad... I hope you understand. I have a chance to change now. Gunnar, Brendan, Nate - even the laconic Jack - they're offering me a chance and a good reason to change. Through them and because of them I have a chance to be better, less vengeful. I shot that woman because it was what you would have done. You've killed people for less. When she used Nate's body against him, she committed an affront to every principle for which I stand. So I committed the same sin on a larger scale, in order to punish her. I justified it by saying I did it for someone else. Trying to be Daddy's little girl has only afforded me the luxury of being a hypocrite. I was so furious at her threat to a life that I took a life and that's not right, Dad. I don't want to be angry and so vengeful. I don't want to spend my life looking over my shoulder, waiting for the people I've pissed off to catch up with me. Or with my friends. That's not something I used to think about, Dad. But I hope that whatever does happen, happens just to me. I am the person who pulled that trigger and I am the one who deserves the fallout. I'm not sorry, but I'm scared, Dad. I'm absolutely terrified of what will happen when that Scion's parent comes after me. I was really stupid that night, Dad. Really fucking stupid. I shot... I killed a woman, and I'm really goddamned lucky that the ground opened up and swallowed her body, and that my gun doesn't leave behind casings. Thanks, by the way.
I could have really fucked things up for Gunnar and Nate, if they'd gotten connected to a murderer. And more than that, I know that Nate feels obligated to protect me since I killed her on his behalf. Brendan doesn't think I did anything wrong, Jack will probably just revel at the chance to hit something new. And Gunnar... he pretty much said that whatever wants to get to me has to go through him.
Oh, and Dad? Speaking of Gunnar, um... I almost married him about a week ago. Long story, kinda, but we're dating now. He makes me feel happy, and safe... Uh, so that's life. We're planning, as a group, a strike against a re-education facility that we think has been responsible for the abductions of other Scions. They might have Horace. They definitely have Susan and at least ten other kids. Maybe more. The abductions, according to someone we talked to, are global. Dad... they killed Bridgitte. I don't know how to tell Samedi.
And Dad, if you can tell Uncle Hermes something, Angela's ok. She's in jail for arson but we talked to her and she's alright, for now. Um, yeah. I should go get some rest for tomorrow. Thanks for listening, and I hope you understand about the "my own path" thing.
Night, Dad.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Knocking on Heaven's Door
Brigitte is dead. We found her body yesterday, at the scene of a fire in Fresno. We need to get word to Baron Samedi. I'm sorry, Samedi. For what it's worth, these words on the paper, I'm sorry. We weren't fast enough.
They. Them. The other guys. They are the enemy, I'm certain. Whoever they actually are, they're running a "re-education" center. They take Scions. Apparently they kill, if they have to, to do it. We know where the place is. We know Father Joshua O'Brien is directly involved. We're going soon.
We just need a plan. A good plan. We were surprised tonight, and being surprised hurts.Let me start over. Today we covered Fresno, looking for Carmen Saavedra. We started at the school, which when we got there was a literal hot mess. We passed a fire truck leaving as we were coming in. I didn't find much, with the whole "no good at any sort of investigation" type skills I have. I mean, I'm good at asking the questions but it's much better when I go in knowing what I want to ask. I tried talking to a sergeant? cop guy? I don't know who he was but he looked like he was in charge. I chatted him up a bit, and he seemed friendly enough but basically he told me to go be somewhere else.
The guys were much more productive, as it usually happens when we go into these types of situations. Gunnar walked me over to look at some bodies. One of them was Bridgitte.
Brendan spotted someone watching us as we combed the place over, and after doing some Interpol magic, or maybe it was Deputy Nate magic, we had a name - Sheila Rodriguez - and an address.
We convoyed over in two cars, and I sat it out for maybe ten minutes before the boredom started to set in. I left the bird with his hero, Nate (in my head, I wanted to phrase this such that I gave Nate the bird, especially after he arrested me, but I think we're trying to move past that now). Gunnar and I found a place nearby to just hang out and not be bored out of our gourds.
You know, as we were leaving, Nate made some smartass comment, and it occurs to me that it's only been a few days, and I haven't said a damn thing about the ride back from LAX and being Gunnar's girl.
It was probably the bird. There are times when I catch him, Nevermore, just sitting on the nightstand, or bed, or couch, or kitchen table with his beak in my journal. Not much is sacred to that feather head. On the bright side, I don't think he's tried to run Gunnar off.
Anyway, we had a while to talk, Gunnar and I. We stuck close to the other guys so they could call us back in a hurry and just hit a place down the road. I got a good chunk of Gunnar's life story. All he's missing is a cape, it seems. It feels like I've got my own superhero watching my back. You know, I guess he technically has that cape we made him out of snake skin back in Vegas. I hate to gush, but he's really quite incredible.
Ok, I'll gush a little. He shot a sniper across the freeway with his handgun, but I'll get to that.
The guys called us around 10 pm and we came back to the house Nate and the guys were staking out. I went in with Nate and Brendan to talk to Ms. Rodriguez. From her we found out what the "re-education center" looked like, and who was in charge of it. She made me tea.
While we three were inside and Gunnar was around back, watching for trouble, Jack and Nevermore were listening to the radio and sharing their feelings (I imagine). Jack heard something about some arrests being made for the arson. We collectively decided that we should go talk to the "suspects," and Nate suggested we go in pairs. Gunnar decided to play legal counsel and I went as his incredibly goodlooking assistant. Nate and Brendan pulled their badges. Jack and Nevermore paired up to talk about hitting things (probably).
Turns out the suspects are Scions. Good guys, trying to get the kids back. They almost had Carmen, but a big fight broke out. The other guys brought tactical gear and full-auto weaponry. The girl we talked to, Naomi, slipped something to Gunnar: a hotel room key. We searched the place when we got there. I found a gorgeous sword, then I found the couch and T.V. while Brendan gave the laptop a stern talking-to. That's how I picture it in my head, anyway. I'm not all that great with computers, either.
So, a bit like an idiot, I dropped my guard. I sat down with Nevermore and Jack and we started watching Scarface. I should have heard them coming. I should have expected the attack, but I didn't and it almost got Brendan killed. Kabul all over again.
I got shot at, a lot, and actually got hit a couple of times. Bullet holes, for the record, still fucking hurt.
Nine guys poured into the room, heralding their entry with a canister of tear gas. I held my breath, but that only helped so much. Jack was a whirlwind, as usual. Nate kept his head pretty well, too. Brendan and I valiantly caught most of the bullets, except Brendan forgot to catch them mostly with his vest. He was a mess. I had to weave between the attackers to get over to him while he took cover. I told him it'd be ok, I had his back, and then I got the feeling he'd be able to take a few more hits before bleeding out. I turned around and started shooting, which didn't do a whole lot of good. The unfriendlies had tactical gear; helmets and vests and such. So I took a cue from Jack, and held one down while Nevermore tore one's face off.
Nate kept knocking one over, which would have been hilarious if I weren't bleeding.
Gunnar was shooting through the window, across the freeway. Yeah, across the freeway. Apparently there was a sniper there whom he managed to spot, then hit, then kill. I'm a little awe-struck, to be honest.
The fight felt like it lasted an hour, but it was more like two or three minutes. I kept an eye on Brendan and the second the room was clear I started treating him. I needed him not to go into shock, I needed him not to bleed out because this team needs him. I'm not sure what I did. I was freaking out somewhere in the back of my head, but the part of me actually working on him was calm. I wanted him to be okay, and then I think I managed to turn some of the wounds into bruises. Bad bruises, but still. Then Brendan managed to muster ... something. I'm not sure how it works, but it's the same thing I can do. I don't want to be hurt anymore, and then I'm not.
I can feel myself getting stronger, better. I just really wanted to help Brendan, and then I could. This will be helpful in the future. I remember having to ask my father to help Gunnar just a few weeks ago, because I couldn't do it. I didn't have the skill, then. I've had his blood on my hands so much since then, it hardly bothers me anymore.
I'm certain now that this is where I'm supposed to be, this is what I'm supposed to be doing. Nate, Brendan, Jack and Gunnar are all such good guys. They need someone to patch their wounds, and eventually to tell their stories. Epics don't write themselves.
Friday, February 25, 2011
just so we're clear
had a talk with the viking kid today. short talk.
told him not to hurt our girl, or i'd break his legs. he didn't seem impressed. he definitely didn't seem intimidated, the way every other bonehead she's brought home has been. good.
i could stand for her to keep this one around.
also i think i let the cat out of the bag. nate took me drinking. some place called the viper room. i wasn't sure i wanted to go. not liking snakes anymore really. but he talked me into it. can't remember how it came up, drank my weight in... something. but i'm pretty sure nate was talking about laurel and her shooting spree.
then i think i said 'yeah, good luck to gunnar and that cuckoo bird.'
and nate was like, 'what'
and i was like, 'nevermore.'
he probably won't remember.
n.
told him not to hurt our girl, or i'd break his legs. he didn't seem impressed. he definitely didn't seem intimidated, the way every other bonehead she's brought home has been. good.
i could stand for her to keep this one around.
also i think i let the cat out of the bag. nate took me drinking. some place called the viper room. i wasn't sure i wanted to go. not liking snakes anymore really. but he talked me into it. can't remember how it came up, drank my weight in... something. but i'm pretty sure nate was talking about laurel and her shooting spree.
then i think i said 'yeah, good luck to gunnar and that cuckoo bird.'
and nate was like, 'what'
and i was like, 'nevermore.'
he probably won't remember.
n.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Bring the Boys Back Home
February 21st, 2011
My half-sister is missing, along with half a dozen other Scions. Most of them are young, Gunnar made the point that they may be pre-visitation.
I know that's not the case with my sister, Dad said he'd gone to see her but she didn't want anything to do with him. Someone had already come to see her first. What if that happened to the other kids?
Worst case scenario, they're dead. Well... maybe that's not the worst. The absolute worst case is that they're still alive, being held hostage and tortured. That's the worst for them. Worst for us, they're alive and being recruited to fight for the titans.
We don't have a lot to go on. It looked like Susan - my sister - had barricaded herself in. Something had disturbed the shingles on the roof by her window. Something killed her parents downstairs. Several possible scenarios. One being a two-pronged attack, wherein assailants simultaneously abducted my sister and busted the front door in. This would explain her trying to barricade herself in. Then, whatever abducted her would have put everything back in place.
Or something broke in the front door, killed her parents and she barricaded herself in, using the dresser. Then the something comes for her through the window, takes her somewhere before returning to set the items used for the barricade back in their place. I don't know. I'm just a doctor, not a forensic specialist, dammit. I'm just a fucking doctor.
I'm trying to commit their names to memory. Amanda Rashidi. Susan Ray. Brendan Gair. Carmen Saavedra. Then the two Scions sent after them, Horus and Samedi's kids, Horace Farrow and Brigitte Delacroix. They're missing too.
I'm going to do everything in my power to bring them home. I'm not losing anymore kids.
My half-sister is missing, along with half a dozen other Scions. Most of them are young, Gunnar made the point that they may be pre-visitation.
I know that's not the case with my sister, Dad said he'd gone to see her but she didn't want anything to do with him. Someone had already come to see her first. What if that happened to the other kids?
Worst case scenario, they're dead. Well... maybe that's not the worst. The absolute worst case is that they're still alive, being held hostage and tortured. That's the worst for them. Worst for us, they're alive and being recruited to fight for the titans.
We don't have a lot to go on. It looked like Susan - my sister - had barricaded herself in. Something had disturbed the shingles on the roof by her window. Something killed her parents downstairs. Several possible scenarios. One being a two-pronged attack, wherein assailants simultaneously abducted my sister and busted the front door in. This would explain her trying to barricade herself in. Then, whatever abducted her would have put everything back in place.
Or something broke in the front door, killed her parents and she barricaded herself in, using the dresser. Then the something comes for her through the window, takes her somewhere before returning to set the items used for the barricade back in their place. I don't know. I'm just a doctor, not a forensic specialist, dammit. I'm just a fucking doctor.
I'm trying to commit their names to memory. Amanda Rashidi. Susan Ray. Brendan Gair. Carmen Saavedra. Then the two Scions sent after them, Horus and Samedi's kids, Horace Farrow and Brigitte Delacroix. They're missing too.
I'm going to do everything in my power to bring them home. I'm not losing anymore kids.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Young Folks
"If I told you things I did before, told you how I used to be
Would you go along with someone like me?
If you knew my story word for word, had all of my history
Would you go along with someone like me?
Usually when things has gone this far
People tend to disappear
No one will surprise me unless you do..."
Peter Bjorn and John, Young Folks
I picked Gunnar up from LAX this afternoon. We had a ... chat? discussion? talk?
I don't know what to call it. We talked, and we clarified some things.
Complicated some others.
He started it, asking me if I would have really gone through with the wedding. I hadn't really thought about it until he asked - didn't really have the time. But as soon as he asked me I knew I would have said, "I do." And I would have stuck to it, taken it seriously.
Understandably, he thought it was a little weird that I would marry a guy I'd known less than a month. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. I'd known him less than a month but almost just as long I'd been sharing a room with him, and just as long he'd kept his hands to himself. I've seen him fight, and damn he can fight. Keeps his head when things get heavy, and makes a living helping people. I could do a fuck of a lot worse marrying some guy I just met in a skeezy diner in Vegas.
And the flirting... well, he started that, too. He'd been hitting on me almost since he saw me. Some of it was tacky, some of it was annoying, but some of it was sweet. The way his eyes got wide when Canopus tried to coil around me, that was kind of a clue. He said he started off hitting on me just to tease, but that there was some truth in it. He said maybe it'd be fun to see what happens, but just getting married right off the bat wouldn't have felt right. That he probably would have gone through with it too, but that he also probably would have regretted skipping the steps in between.
So here we are, taking the steps in between.
I do feel like maybe we might have something good here, like he could really make me happy. I get all stupid and grinning when he's around. I thrive when I'm taking care of people and honestly, he needs plenty of taking care of. I think he's got a lot of big fights ahead of him, and I don't really like the idea of him going it alone.
He's probably right though, about it not really being a normal thing to start a relationship with a wedding. Things aren't really supposed to work that way these days.
Maybe I was so willing to rush into a wedding because I'm afraid that my dad's track history with Scions is going to catch up with me. Especially when I let my temper get the best of me and go killing other Scions. But he said something along the lines of whatever wanting to get to me is going to have to go through him.
Before the car ride got too intense, I had to make the disclaimer. I'm damaged goods, and Gunnar needs to know that. I told him I don't want this to not work because I wasn't honest or something with him. So I told him everything. My dead mom, my scars from Kabul (physical and mental) and consequential lack of anything resembling a social life (was a little too shy to mention the lack of a sex life, though), losing my friend Hal and how terrified I am that I'm going to get another group of comrades killed.
It was still hard to talk about, but this time it was more like poking at a scar then pulling at an open wound. This is his chance to run screaming for the hills. I told him that if he's going to hop on this crazy train, these are all things he needs to know.
Still, Laurel Angela Esparza... Might sound kinda nice, one day.
Would you go along with someone like me?
If you knew my story word for word, had all of my history
Would you go along with someone like me?
Usually when things has gone this far
People tend to disappear
No one will surprise me unless you do..."
Peter Bjorn and John, Young Folks
I picked Gunnar up from LAX this afternoon. We had a ... chat? discussion? talk?
I don't know what to call it. We talked, and we clarified some things.
Complicated some others.
He started it, asking me if I would have really gone through with the wedding. I hadn't really thought about it until he asked - didn't really have the time. But as soon as he asked me I knew I would have said, "I do." And I would have stuck to it, taken it seriously.
Understandably, he thought it was a little weird that I would marry a guy I'd known less than a month. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. I'd known him less than a month but almost just as long I'd been sharing a room with him, and just as long he'd kept his hands to himself. I've seen him fight, and damn he can fight. Keeps his head when things get heavy, and makes a living helping people. I could do a fuck of a lot worse marrying some guy I just met in a skeezy diner in Vegas.
And the flirting... well, he started that, too. He'd been hitting on me almost since he saw me. Some of it was tacky, some of it was annoying, but some of it was sweet. The way his eyes got wide when Canopus tried to coil around me, that was kind of a clue. He said he started off hitting on me just to tease, but that there was some truth in it. He said maybe it'd be fun to see what happens, but just getting married right off the bat wouldn't have felt right. That he probably would have gone through with it too, but that he also probably would have regretted skipping the steps in between.
So here we are, taking the steps in between.
I do feel like maybe we might have something good here, like he could really make me happy. I get all stupid and grinning when he's around. I thrive when I'm taking care of people and honestly, he needs plenty of taking care of. I think he's got a lot of big fights ahead of him, and I don't really like the idea of him going it alone.
He's probably right though, about it not really being a normal thing to start a relationship with a wedding. Things aren't really supposed to work that way these days.
Maybe I was so willing to rush into a wedding because I'm afraid that my dad's track history with Scions is going to catch up with me. Especially when I let my temper get the best of me and go killing other Scions. But he said something along the lines of whatever wanting to get to me is going to have to go through him.
Before the car ride got too intense, I had to make the disclaimer. I'm damaged goods, and Gunnar needs to know that. I told him I don't want this to not work because I wasn't honest or something with him. So I told him everything. My dead mom, my scars from Kabul (physical and mental) and consequential lack of anything resembling a social life (was a little too shy to mention the lack of a sex life, though), losing my friend Hal and how terrified I am that I'm going to get another group of comrades killed.
It was still hard to talk about, but this time it was more like poking at a scar then pulling at an open wound. This is his chance to run screaming for the hills. I told him that if he's going to hop on this crazy train, these are all things he needs to know.
Still, Laurel Angela Esparza... Might sound kinda nice, one day.
Miss Murder
So my stay in Vegas has gone a little like this: I almost got married. Then I almost got crushed by roller-snake. Almost got stripped of my birthrights, then I got arrested, almost lost my car to a gaping chasm, almost got charged with murder, and almost completely destroyed a friendship.
Almost.
I suppose the highlights aren't much good without the details, even if I'm just talking to myself.
I almost married Gunnar. We were doing recon and when the receptionist asked who was the lucky guy, both Nate and Gunnar volunteered. I picked Gunnar, and at first I wasn't completely sure why. It makes sense now, for a lot of reasons, half of them I don't know yet. The other half are reasons I'm not sure I want to explore in full right now. Though after last night, I'm dead certain Nate and I would never work. Ever. I still have a lot of respect for him, but something changed.
But, it seems weird to say this, almost getting married was only the smallest part of yesterday's excitement.
I took out another Scion last night. Shot her in the head. Screamed when I did it. Probably looked like a crazy woman. Maybe I always have.
In my head, in that moment, everything was clear. She was the enemy, and she had all but walked in with a big red bullseye on her forehead.
I'm getting ahead of myself again.
After I almost got married, and the fight with the roller-snake was over, we all met back up at Gunnar's room where I've been staying pretty much since I met him (it only sounds weird if you think about it. He offered and I accepted without really thinking about it). I patched the guys up, those who needed it, and we just kinda sat around for a bit. Nate came in, grumbling something about how we should have moved the roller-snake. Then Victor came in with uzis pointed at us, that greasy snake Sly, the asian guy I saw at the demolition and the voodoo woman who hurt Nate that same night followed.
I don't remember exactly how things happened from there. The asian guy was named Kane. Gunnar knew about him. Fucker started making demands, telling us to put our birthrights in a godsdamned pillowcase. He walks in and demands our surrender. I think I got a little angry; I started acting without really thinking. I remember Gunnar telling me to get off the bed. Then there was a gunshot. Kane had ordered a hostage shot, thinking that would stop us. We were going to fight anyway (even though Nate looked like he really didn't want to), and then the voodoo lady... did something. She moved something on a doll she carried, and then Nate was holding his gun to his head.
Bitch painted a bullseye on her face, is what she really did.
Gunnar gave the cape over to Kane. I don't really know what happened then. I got thrown back on the bed. Kane went crazy...er. He started growing taller, shrieking and ignoring the rest of us. I know the limits of my abilities. I am no good against guys like Kane, even when they're not trying to go all Kronos on their parents. I turned my sights on his peons.
And that's what they were to me. In a battle, which they decided this was when they asked for our surrender, you pick sides. Victor, Sly and the voodoo girl picked Kane's side. I wanted to scream at Sly when he tried telling me he didn't mean for it to go this far. How far did he mean for it to go? Just far enough so that he could betray Kane and wear the shroud himself? Even if he had the best of intentions, how else did he expect things to go? I made my way over to the voodoo girl, crouching over her until she came to. I might have taunted her a little bit into waking up. I pointed Sibyl at her forehead and kept my eyes open. I waited.
When her eyes opened and met mine, she stiffened a little. I waited until she was fully aware and pulled the trigger. I remember her skull disintegrating under Sibyl's blast. I remember Nate, furious with me. He didn't understand that she would have just done it again, and maybe next time pulled the trigger. He didn't understand that her entire attitude was an affront to the very tenet which I hold most dear: first do no harm.
With Jack having taken care of Victor and vikings beginning to take care of Kane (I don't know, I was busy), Nate decided to arrest me. The ground started caving in where... something had punched through. I'm guessing someone was taking care of the hostages, because Nate escorted me to his SUV. I said something about my car and Nate said he was willing to let it fall into the pit. It would have, if Gunnar hadn't managed to grab the keys before the whole building started coming down.
Since Kane and company walked through that door, it kept feeling like he was trying to take from me everything I cared about. My birthrights. My friends. And now my car. Hal's car. I owe Gunnar for saving it for me.
So I was handcuffed. I had a feeling that if I really wanted to, I could have slipped the cuffs whenever I pleased. I shouldn't have been cuffed in the first fucking place, especially not by the guy I was trying to protect, but ... I wanted to make it right with Nate. I saw the look on his face when he decided to cuff me. He didn't like it, but he had to. I respect that, honestly. It still pisses me off.
Eventually he uncuffed me, after we butted heads for a while about whether or not I should have been cuffed in the first place. Brendan was on my side, Gunnar too. Nevermore was curiously silent. I think I confused him. Nate wanted me to promise I wouldn't shoot any more "defenseless" people before he uncuffed me and gave me back my gun. I couldn't and I won't make a promise I don't think I can keep. Even if I could have, I wouldn't. I was only in the army a year but that shit gets drilled into your head. She was the enemy. She made it clear she was willing to fight dirty, so I did too. The difference was, I was better at it.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Might As Well Jump?
January 23rd, 2011
I'm not letting them go anywhere alone anymore. Not unless we've got some sort of communication system in place, anyway.
Last night, Nate and Gunnar went to a hotel that was scheduled to be demolished. I was going to be the distraction so that they could get past the security. What was the worst that could happen, right?
Well, apparently the worst was some shinobi showing off and expediting the already short countdown to demolition, causing Nate and Gunnar to jump out of an exploding building. They're lucky they didn't break anything.
So I put on my "distracting" shoes and dropped them off. And then I waited. And waited.
And the building exploded. The demolition that was supposed to happen months from now happened last night, with Nate and Gunnar inside. I literally can't leave them alone for ten minutes.
Even when I stick with them I often end up having to take at least one, if not both of them, to the hospital. I worry that if we part ways for too long, I might have to bury one of them.
I don't like that idea.
I'm not letting them go anywhere alone anymore. Not unless we've got some sort of communication system in place, anyway.
Last night, Nate and Gunnar went to a hotel that was scheduled to be demolished. I was going to be the distraction so that they could get past the security. What was the worst that could happen, right?
Well, apparently the worst was some shinobi showing off and expediting the already short countdown to demolition, causing Nate and Gunnar to jump out of an exploding building. They're lucky they didn't break anything.
So I put on my "distracting" shoes and dropped them off. And then I waited. And waited.
And the building exploded. The demolition that was supposed to happen months from now happened last night, with Nate and Gunnar inside. I literally can't leave them alone for ten minutes.
Even when I stick with them I often end up having to take at least one, if not both of them, to the hospital. I worry that if we part ways for too long, I might have to bury one of them.
I don't like that idea.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
My Hit and Run
January 22nd, 2011
I have a brother.
Well, half-brother. And he's old enough to be my father.
And I feel really stupid for not realizing who he was.
You know what, let me start over.
The guys went to see their fathers, and I went to hang out with mine. Dad was the one who told me I had siblings. Two of them, actually. One is a younger sister, and the other is an older brother (making me the monkey in the middle).
Neither wants anything to do with Dad and his war. I can't blame them, currently. I might have thought twice if I'd really known what I was getting into, and that it was going to involve being shot and slashed at so damn much.
Also, fuck ninjas.
Dad gave me a hotel name and a room number. Didn't give me my brother's name, which I realize now in hindsight that I really should have asked.
There are a lot of things I really should have asked.
I'm no good at this investigation crap, which makes it a really good thing that I've become friends with a cop and a P.I.
At least, I think we're friends.
Gunnar's always hitting on me, and lets me crash at his place, and Nate has yet to try to arrest me (or Nevermore, who probably deserves it).
I got dressed at Gunnar's room, where I've been crashing since we met. I was dressed if not to kill, then definitely to distract. It was a red number, tight in all the right places with a low neck and a high slit on the side. I figured this was a great plan for getting past security.
It would have been a great plan. Except that I didn't figure that his security would be titan-fucking-spawn. I couldn't tell what they were, and I really only saw the one guarding the elevator exit the first time I tried to get up to talk to my brother.
I thought my heart was going to say, "Yeah, you have fun with that," walk out of my chest and leave me to handle this on my own. Then the guard just told me to turn around. So I did, because I'm smart like that.
No, I'm not. I turned around because I didn't really have any other options. And he pushed me into the elevator.
So I came back later, with Gunnar and Nate. I'm not sure where we stand with one another, but I am sure that they are already the best backup a girl could have.
We decided they would wait in the elevator and I would try again to get past the guard. If something went wrong I'd call the safety word or something. It would have been a great plan if we'd actually picked a safety word.
Then Gunnar mentioned that these guys were cyclopes. Two of them. And, having taken all those courses on Greek Myth after my dad popped up off my autopsy table, I remembered that they eat people and are generally unpleasant to be around.
I was filled with confidence here.
I stepped off the elevator, determined to talk to my brother. Or at least determined to live through this.
I tried deception, I tried diversion then finally I broke down and tried honesty.
I just wanted to talk to him. He was the only family I knew of (and my dad doesn't really count; he's in a league so different talking to him feels like trying to chat up a time traveler from 82 BCE).
They were reluctant to let me in because he might have been sleeping. I pushed, like I do because sometimes (and by sometimes I mean most of the time) I'm too stubborn to know better. Then one of them started groping me.
I freaked. Since Kabul, I don't do well with people trying to touch me.
I really don't do well with a stereotypically violent creature's hand on my breasts.
I just shouted Gunnar's name, because we didn't have a safety word. He and Nate sprang into the hallway, action-cop style and I... I almost caused a diplomatic incident.
It turns out Jim-Bob the cyclops was just trying to pat me down. Of course, I learned this after Gunnar put a bullet hole in the hallway.
It could have been worse, and I'm really surprised this didn't send the titanspawn into a rage. I decided just to come back in the morning, at Nate and Gunnar's urging. I never claimed to be the brains of the operation.
I'm just glad Nevermore wasn't there for that, I would never ever hear the end of it. I can't remember if I apologized to the cyclopes.
I should have. I blushed a little as I passed the hole Gunnar had left in the wall with his fancy Deagle when I came back in the morning.
I got into my brother's room with little incident this time. I'd actually taken Nevermore with me, because (and this is how I know the gods have a sense of humor) his memory is better than mine.
It was tense in there. I was on edge, and my brother was too. I told him I'd wanted to meet him as soon as I found out I had family. I left out the part where Dad sent me to talk to him, but I didn't lie to him at all.
I kept saying we had the same father, and he finally asked me point blank. No more subterfuge. "My father is Apollo." It still sounds a little ridiculous when I say it. His name was Don. He was older than myself, but easy enough to get along with. It took a while, a lot longer than it should have, to put it together.
My half brother is Don Henley.
Yeah, that one. He gave me a cord Dad had given him, catgut from when it was really made with catgut, taken from the Nemean Fucking Lion.
Yeah.
We talked for a while, about a lot of different shit. We exchanged numbers, because I wasn't lying when I told him I was lonely. It's hard being like we are, scions, I mean. Things tend to just change around us, and it's especially hard facing the fact that we were enlisted from conception... No, that's not accurate. We were actually conceived for the purpose of fighting someone else's war. That's what we were meant for, and trying to buck the trend or go against the grain can be disastrous.
And I'm speaking from experience there. I myself strayed from "the path" and I got people killed. That's what Scions do, and that's what Don wants no part in. Normal mortals rarely understand how this can weigh on a person's - a Scion's - shoulders. More than that, just acknowledging that one's parent was more than a normal mortal is enough to break you. If I walked into a police station and said, "Hello, I am a daughter of Apollo and I would like to help you fight crime," they would lock me up.
I'm really lucky now to have Nate and Gunnar to talk to. It hadn't occurred to me just how lucky until I met Don.
He's got a family, a normal family, and because of that... because of the presence of normal, jealous and ignorant mortals I can't really have any communication with my brother.
But I don't have to hide anything from Nate and Gunnar. Yeah, sometimes Nate has to look the other way when my methods become less than legal but that would happen if we were hanging out as normal people.
That's different, though. I don't have to worry with the guys, like I do when I'm in surgery. There's always that fear that I'll press the scalpel, squeeze a patient's hand too hard. I have to put makeup on to become -less- attractive because I've distracted interns and almost lost a patient because of it. I've had to wear contacts to "normalize" my irises because apparently they freak people out.
But with Nate and Gunnar I can be... I -am- completely myself. They're tougher than mortal men. I wonder if they know how cool I think that is.
As soon as I said that to Don, that I just wanted to know someone else like me, that it's tough being like us and it's lonely, he got it.
I have family. That's kinda weird.
Just before I left, he told me about the inspiration for that song, "Hotel California." It's a real place. I don't think I ever want to see it, but somehow I know I'll probably have to, eventually.
I have a brother.
Well, half-brother. And he's old enough to be my father.
And I feel really stupid for not realizing who he was.
You know what, let me start over.
The guys went to see their fathers, and I went to hang out with mine. Dad was the one who told me I had siblings. Two of them, actually. One is a younger sister, and the other is an older brother (making me the monkey in the middle).
Neither wants anything to do with Dad and his war. I can't blame them, currently. I might have thought twice if I'd really known what I was getting into, and that it was going to involve being shot and slashed at so damn much.
Also, fuck ninjas.
Dad gave me a hotel name and a room number. Didn't give me my brother's name, which I realize now in hindsight that I really should have asked.
There are a lot of things I really should have asked.
I'm no good at this investigation crap, which makes it a really good thing that I've become friends with a cop and a P.I.
At least, I think we're friends.
Gunnar's always hitting on me, and lets me crash at his place, and Nate has yet to try to arrest me (or Nevermore, who probably deserves it).
I got dressed at Gunnar's room, where I've been crashing since we met. I was dressed if not to kill, then definitely to distract. It was a red number, tight in all the right places with a low neck and a high slit on the side. I figured this was a great plan for getting past security.
It would have been a great plan. Except that I didn't figure that his security would be titan-fucking-spawn. I couldn't tell what they were, and I really only saw the one guarding the elevator exit the first time I tried to get up to talk to my brother.
I thought my heart was going to say, "Yeah, you have fun with that," walk out of my chest and leave me to handle this on my own. Then the guard just told me to turn around. So I did, because I'm smart like that.
No, I'm not. I turned around because I didn't really have any other options. And he pushed me into the elevator.
So I came back later, with Gunnar and Nate. I'm not sure where we stand with one another, but I am sure that they are already the best backup a girl could have.
We decided they would wait in the elevator and I would try again to get past the guard. If something went wrong I'd call the safety word or something. It would have been a great plan if we'd actually picked a safety word.
Then Gunnar mentioned that these guys were cyclopes. Two of them. And, having taken all those courses on Greek Myth after my dad popped up off my autopsy table, I remembered that they eat people and are generally unpleasant to be around.
I was filled with confidence here.
I stepped off the elevator, determined to talk to my brother. Or at least determined to live through this.
I tried deception, I tried diversion then finally I broke down and tried honesty.
I just wanted to talk to him. He was the only family I knew of (and my dad doesn't really count; he's in a league so different talking to him feels like trying to chat up a time traveler from 82 BCE).
They were reluctant to let me in because he might have been sleeping. I pushed, like I do because sometimes (and by sometimes I mean most of the time) I'm too stubborn to know better. Then one of them started groping me.
I freaked. Since Kabul, I don't do well with people trying to touch me.
I really don't do well with a stereotypically violent creature's hand on my breasts.
I just shouted Gunnar's name, because we didn't have a safety word. He and Nate sprang into the hallway, action-cop style and I... I almost caused a diplomatic incident.
It turns out Jim-Bob the cyclops was just trying to pat me down. Of course, I learned this after Gunnar put a bullet hole in the hallway.
It could have been worse, and I'm really surprised this didn't send the titanspawn into a rage. I decided just to come back in the morning, at Nate and Gunnar's urging. I never claimed to be the brains of the operation.
I'm just glad Nevermore wasn't there for that, I would never ever hear the end of it. I can't remember if I apologized to the cyclopes.
I should have. I blushed a little as I passed the hole Gunnar had left in the wall with his fancy Deagle when I came back in the morning.
I got into my brother's room with little incident this time. I'd actually taken Nevermore with me, because (and this is how I know the gods have a sense of humor) his memory is better than mine.
It was tense in there. I was on edge, and my brother was too. I told him I'd wanted to meet him as soon as I found out I had family. I left out the part where Dad sent me to talk to him, but I didn't lie to him at all.
I kept saying we had the same father, and he finally asked me point blank. No more subterfuge. "My father is Apollo." It still sounds a little ridiculous when I say it. His name was Don. He was older than myself, but easy enough to get along with. It took a while, a lot longer than it should have, to put it together.
My half brother is Don Henley.
Yeah, that one. He gave me a cord Dad had given him, catgut from when it was really made with catgut, taken from the Nemean Fucking Lion.
Yeah.
We talked for a while, about a lot of different shit. We exchanged numbers, because I wasn't lying when I told him I was lonely. It's hard being like we are, scions, I mean. Things tend to just change around us, and it's especially hard facing the fact that we were enlisted from conception... No, that's not accurate. We were actually conceived for the purpose of fighting someone else's war. That's what we were meant for, and trying to buck the trend or go against the grain can be disastrous.
And I'm speaking from experience there. I myself strayed from "the path" and I got people killed. That's what Scions do, and that's what Don wants no part in. Normal mortals rarely understand how this can weigh on a person's - a Scion's - shoulders. More than that, just acknowledging that one's parent was more than a normal mortal is enough to break you. If I walked into a police station and said, "Hello, I am a daughter of Apollo and I would like to help you fight crime," they would lock me up.
I'm really lucky now to have Nate and Gunnar to talk to. It hadn't occurred to me just how lucky until I met Don.
He's got a family, a normal family, and because of that... because of the presence of normal, jealous and ignorant mortals I can't really have any communication with my brother.
But I don't have to hide anything from Nate and Gunnar. Yeah, sometimes Nate has to look the other way when my methods become less than legal but that would happen if we were hanging out as normal people.
That's different, though. I don't have to worry with the guys, like I do when I'm in surgery. There's always that fear that I'll press the scalpel, squeeze a patient's hand too hard. I have to put makeup on to become -less- attractive because I've distracted interns and almost lost a patient because of it. I've had to wear contacts to "normalize" my irises because apparently they freak people out.
But with Nate and Gunnar I can be... I -am- completely myself. They're tougher than mortal men. I wonder if they know how cool I think that is.
As soon as I said that to Don, that I just wanted to know someone else like me, that it's tough being like us and it's lonely, he got it.
I have family. That's kinda weird.
Just before I left, he told me about the inspiration for that song, "Hotel California." It's a real place. I don't think I ever want to see it, but somehow I know I'll probably have to, eventually.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
The Kids Are Alright
January 20th, 2011
I officially met the two other kids like me on guard duty. Well, kinda like me. Maybe a little less damaged and better adjusted.
Deputy Pritchert is... well, he's kind of a dork. But he is good at his job, and he's a respectable and tough dork. He's passionate about his work and helping people, which I admire. He's also been willing to look the other way when we three have had to do any breaking and entering, which I can also admire.
Gunnar is... impressive is a good word for him. The man can drink, he can fight, has an axe the size of me, and I get the impression he's very strong. Like there's a whole lot of muscle under that trench.
The fact that he hefts a footlocker like I hold a purse lends itself well to this theory. He gives me looks, but most guys (and some girls) do, and he's not grabby. Plus he's let me crash at his room, which has been convenient.
They make me feel safer than I did wandering the Strip by myself and knowing what's actually going on in this town with all the gods, that's for sure.
I officially met the two other kids like me on guard duty. Well, kinda like me. Maybe a little less damaged and better adjusted.
Deputy Pritchert is... well, he's kind of a dork. But he is good at his job, and he's a respectable and tough dork. He's passionate about his work and helping people, which I admire. He's also been willing to look the other way when we three have had to do any breaking and entering, which I can also admire.
Gunnar is... impressive is a good word for him. The man can drink, he can fight, has an axe the size of me, and I get the impression he's very strong. Like there's a whole lot of muscle under that trench.
The fact that he hefts a footlocker like I hold a purse lends itself well to this theory. He gives me looks, but most guys (and some girls) do, and he's not grabby. Plus he's let me crash at his room, which has been convenient.
They make me feel safer than I did wandering the Strip by myself and knowing what's actually going on in this town with all the gods, that's for sure.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Welcome to Fabulous...
January 19th, 2011
I've never been to Vegas before. It's otherworldly. Palm trees and desert and the most beautiful sunrises. Now I see what the Killers are always singing about.
I took my time doing so, but I finally got into town and was told to go wait at some diner. Larry's, I think? I took Nevermore in with me because he seems to have abandonment issues and won't let me leave him outside. Thankfully no one seemed to think it was too weird. I sat at the counter, ordered onion rings. There wasn't too much going on when I got there. Truckers and transvestites, and a huge guy who was cool enough to wear his sunglasses at night.
Some old guy walked in, called me and two other people to him in a booth. He talked like a good ol' boy. Handed me and the other kids metal pins. Mine was shaped like the sun. I tried not to be too obvious in sizing the other guys up, but I wanted to know how likely they were to get me killed. They both seem intelligent and on the level, though. We're supposed to go to a hotel and play watchdogs.
On the way out, I stopped and took a good look at my waitress, Fern. She seemed too tired, even for this job. Something about the smell of her, the flecks in her eyes, the sound of her breath told me she was quite ill. Spots in the air around her, growing bigger than they should.
Cancer, probably. That seems to be my own personal Lupus.
She didn't believe me, at first. Sometimes they don't.
I've never been to Vegas before. It's otherworldly. Palm trees and desert and the most beautiful sunrises. Now I see what the Killers are always singing about.
I took my time doing so, but I finally got into town and was told to go wait at some diner. Larry's, I think? I took Nevermore in with me because he seems to have abandonment issues and won't let me leave him outside. Thankfully no one seemed to think it was too weird. I sat at the counter, ordered onion rings. There wasn't too much going on when I got there. Truckers and transvestites, and a huge guy who was cool enough to wear his sunglasses at night.
Some old guy walked in, called me and two other people to him in a booth. He talked like a good ol' boy. Handed me and the other kids metal pins. Mine was shaped like the sun. I tried not to be too obvious in sizing the other guys up, but I wanted to know how likely they were to get me killed. They both seem intelligent and on the level, though. We're supposed to go to a hotel and play watchdogs.
On the way out, I stopped and took a good look at my waitress, Fern. She seemed too tired, even for this job. Something about the smell of her, the flecks in her eyes, the sound of her breath told me she was quite ill. Spots in the air around her, growing bigger than they should.
Cancer, probably. That seems to be my own personal Lupus.
She didn't believe me, at first. Sometimes they don't.
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