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Post by mock on May 10, 2007 22:50:21 GMT -5
Skarin Row Police Station, about a month and a half ago.
"Hey partner," the tall figure called from across the fenced-off parking lot, the door leading into the civilian common area closing behind him, shutting out the backlight of the station and leaving him to the floodlights of the lot. "Listen, I gotta get into the lockup for a sec, okay?"
"What for?" The cop happenned to already have his pistol out of his holster, dormant in the hand not holding up his umbrella, so out it stayed as the unfamiliar figure came out into the light rain. The civs were hardly ever up and around at 3 in the morning. Dunningwood being the way it had been lately, there wasn't much cause for anybody to lose sleep.
"Got the call to pack up some flareguns and ship 'em over to the border. Y'know, they staked out a couple of safehouses there," the man said, already eyeing the small detatched garage that was being used as a weapons cache, unbeknownst to most of the civs, as he stepped under the floodlights to the van the cop was sheltering himself next to. "Y'know, case the sh!t hits the fan. It's pretty bad over there so we're kinda just stickin our toes in the water."
The cop's eyes tightened under the shadow of his umbrella. This guy didn't look like a cop and was talking too much. "What precinct signed off on this?"
"Oh uh, no no, this is coming down from the Warriors." The explanation didn't curry any extra favour from the cop. The police had a tenuous relationship at best with the local paramilitary, and he personally didn't like cashing their checks for them. But they had access to the lockup, and if nothing else, this greaser knew that.
"This is a Warrior work order?" "fraid so." "What's your name?" "John Ford. New recruit." "Who's this order coming from?" "Straight down from Mentar himself." "Mentok." "Mentok. I'm new." "Yeah, I'm calling this in."
The cop had his radio about halfway out when Eddie punched him in the temple. He didn't have time to wrap his finger around the trigger before he was thrown into the side of the van and had the back of his head slammed into the metal panelling.
Eddie dragged the cop by his ankles around to the front of the van and propped him up in the driver's seat. Not that he thought it would fool anybody, but if there was a slim chance that he might be mistaken for just being asleep on the job, why the hell not. Eddie has thought of finishing him off, but decided against it. If this guy could pick him out in a lineup after a 30-second meeting and a whack on the melon, Eddie would be amazed. Taking the van itself would have been a really good score, but rather than try to formulate a new plan around it (plans did not come as quickly and fluidly to Eddie as they might to some) he stuck to his original agenda.
In the lockup, Eddie filled two riot-gear bags with as much as he could see himself carrying home. Clips, pistols, rifles, even a couple of smokebombs leftover from the days when these people still had faith in crowd control. Even as he loaded up, he took care to sort items between the two bags: One for his private stock and one for communal use and trade. he would have loved a decent assault rifle but there was none to be found. He left the flares.
Eddie let himself out through the door in the fence, closing it behind him. With the heavy load it was about an extra 20 minutes back to the fortress. At around 4:00am, he came in through the junkyard, stuffed one bag through a hole in the boards underneath the manager's trailer, and brought the other one inside. Firearms being the commodity they were today (second fiddle only to food, really), and considering the arsenal he was building up for his own personal endeavours, yes sir, these little jobs were minimal effort for maximum gain. An easier life for him and his, right around the corner.
((this is a bit of a prologue to a thread detailing Eddie's recent death. It'll pick up next with Cass and Eddie journeying to the station a few blocks away, which I'll start in on soon unless Kin does first. Bedtime, is all.))
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Post by kinrrataiyath on May 12, 2007 20:29:50 GMT -5
((I'm going to get this going, if you don't mind. I'm all eager to see where this goes.))
Present Day: Penni street
"Alright, so the Lord is a piece of crap. I figure we either hit up Morely Walk or Skarin. You got a problem with either of them?" The blonde-haired walking armory beside Eddie looked up at him with an inquisitive expresison. The look was partially killed by the fact that her chin-length blonde hair was constantly being blown across her face, much to her chargin. She had tried and failed to tuck it behind her ears, but the lank strands just wouldn't stay. The result was that a few locks would tickle her nose from time to time, causing her to grimace and scrunch up her nose.
Cassandra Saratores, aka Cass to everyone she knew, really hated the wind. It screwed up trajectory, blew away scents or trails, but most importantly, it messed up her hair. She wasn't a vain woman by far, but she did like looking like a normal, well-cared for person instead of a zombie with a little colour in her cheeks. It was hard given her body was twig-thin and her bare arms seemed to lack any sort of muscle whatsoever. Catch her at the wrong moment and she looked like she just woke up from a dirt nap. The only difference was that her beady hazel eyes were always sharp, always looking for that one little thing that was out of place.
What was most interesting about the tiny, ruler-like woman was the fact that she walked around with a small armory on her back. Everything from pocket knives to two large, double-barrel shot guns. It was a wonder she could move with the weight of the weapons on her person at all times, but she never seemed to complain. Then again, no one ever saw the red rashes and bruises this mobile arsenal left on her skin. Since she had first started collecting the tools of her trade, she'd forced herself to grow accustomed to the nagging pain that went along with it. Now it was just a dull, warm throb if she didn't rest often enough throughout the day.
Those weapons were her current reason for being out in the middle of nowhere, discussing the benefits of one run down police department over another. She needed to restock her ammo and Eddie, the big guy strolling along with her, had tagged along for the ride. It was always best to go in pairs given that trouble could spring up at any moment. However Cass rarely followed her own advice. She'd been feeling sociable for a change when she'd extended the invitation of an ammo run buddy to the Mullen's rag tag group.
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Post by mock on May 13, 2007 1:07:40 GMT -5
"That's a terrible thing to say about the Lord! Heh heh! ...Ah man though, Morely, trust me." Eddie removed one hand from his pocket to wave it dismissively in front of him. "I been to Skarin, it's full of f*ckin' people and they got nothin' there anyway. Waste a' time." He didn't give any further insights as to the cause of their supply shortage. Cass didn't look like the type to get blinded by righteousness, and she didn't look like the type to go rat either. Still, she was army, and they were more or less the new sherriff in town, so until he had a clearer idea of her, 'I beat one of them senseless and stole a bunch of their guns' was not an explanation he was going to offer.
Next to Cass, Eddie would hardly appear to be walking through a dangerous wasteland at all. With only an empty gym bag over his shoulder, Mona in his back pocket and one pistol in his jacket, he strolled along side her with his hands in his pockets, looking woefully unprepared by comparison. Indeed, it was this apparent indifference, and the way it erupted into up-close brutality on a dime, which many people found so disturbing.
He'd have offered to share some of Cass' burden if he thought she'd have it, but this was clearly a woman who lived by the gun. Eddie had newly inducted himself into the firearms business and had been collecting them for his own interests, but he wasn't too keen on getting too cozy with them himself on the day-to-day. He felt that using a gun distanced killer from victim, seperated them from the act. Gave them ideas about themselves that might not be wholly accurate. But Eddie had an inkling that if Cass was dependant on artillery, it wasn't for a lack of will. Will, he was realizing, was one of the new dividers between people, helping to mark out the greater and lesser subspecies. If he thought she could be convinced to turn on her own, Eddie would be far past the stockpiling stage by now.
He wondered how different being whatever-she-was in the army was from being lieutenant of a street gang. Probably pretty different. Still, in the thin woman next to him, Eddie saw what he might have been in some twilight-zone universe where a couple select things had gone a different way. But they went this way, and he was still breathing. Will, that's all.
"Skarin's right next to the hospitals, so there's a million people there. Morely's got less people. They also got less gear but they'll be more willing to hand it out. Morely's the place. Load ya right up."
Speaking of getting loaded right up, Eddie once again removed a hand from his pocket and took the mickey out of his jacket. He hadn't been doing much drinking on the property lately, Daddy-duties (which, really, were rarely delegated to him), and the increasing resistance he was feeling as leader (which, really, had always been there) keeping him from imbibing in public and losing face. But he wasn't on the property now, and he since he had no direct authority over Cass, she didn't hate him yet, probably.
Eddie knocked back a mouthfull of the crappy rye and extended it to Cass with an "eh?" which half meant "do you want some" and half "can you raise your arm high enough to take this".
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Post by kinrrataiyath on May 13, 2007 1:29:37 GMT -5
Cass looked up at the hand that held the blessed nectar of the gods just out of reach. The gears turned fast in her head, connecting one dot to the next. He was tall, she was short, and as happened with any combination of one tall and one short person, teasing was bound to ensue. She was very used to it by this point. What better way to pass time in the barracks than put the shortest person's things just out of reach? Hella fun that was.
A little smirk quirked her lips and a spark lit up her eyes. She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out her own flask. The same one he'd seen her drinking from on the roof from time to time. She uncapped the bottle and tilted it towards him in a sort of "cheers" slash "ha ha I win" manner.
"Thanks, but I got my own," she said after tossing back a stiff gulp of the lung burning whiskey. This was the kind of stuff that put hair on your chest... if you were a man. She didn't know what the equivilant for women was, but it probably had something to do with a puckering of the lips. Something that could be twisted in a sexual manner at any rate.
"Alright so... Morely sounds good. What with you being able to see on the top shelves and me being able to crawl into all those little hidey holes, we should clean the place right up." Poking fun at her own short comings was something the beanpole soldier knew set people at ease. Working with someone who took everything too seriously was bound to end up badly.
It was funny how people worked when faced with crisis situations. There was the serious "get your work done" side, and then the jokes always being thrown around. As if those cleaning up the mess society made had to laugh, or else they'd be the next body bagged and tagged by their peers. Being in the military, living in Malton, it was all the same thing. Laugh or you end up dead. Dry humour was Cass' favoured weapon of war.
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Post by mock on May 13, 2007 2:00:10 GMT -5
"Hey, how 'bout that, now I'm drinking socially," Eddie chirped as she took a hit from her own supply. "Drinking socially looks alright on a family man," he joked, referring to himself in terms that nobody in the group would use to describe him, himself least of all. This might have just been in his head, but it seemed like K was the only one who wanted him within 100 yards of the baby. "Knox" and "Happy Family" were never really ideas that got along. Maybe people could tell.
"So how's this work for you when you go to these places?" Eddie reached over and flicked the barrel of one of the shotguns on her back, which gave off a light 'dook'. "You, y'know, you obviously manage. Whaddaya, show 'em like some army badge or something? Cause I gotta tell ya, if it was me keepin' an eye on the pile, and a lady walks in got more hardware on her than I'm currently handing out, and she's askin' for guns, first thing I'm gonna think is why should I?"
He took another hit off the cheap plastic mickey and put it back in his jacket. "Well that ain't the first thing I'm gonna think, but I'm notoriously lewd," he chuckled. Even as he carried on, a small part of his brain had been inadvertantly kicked back to his own difficulties conniving that guard into letting him into the lockup back then. Eddie was no master con-artist, but he really thought he should have passed well enough for one of those Warrior goons to get the job done.
"I'd be thinkin', hey, I can dig it, let's do business, y'know? That's why I don't work at a station, heh heh." Man. He should have killed that guy. That probably woulda been the smart thing, killing that guy. Well, with this girl in tow, however she went about stocking up, he could probably get in on it and not be faced with a similar decision today.
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Post by kinrrataiyath on May 13, 2007 20:54:51 GMT -5
Cassandra took another swing from her small flask and shrugged. She swished the burning liquid around in her mouth a few seconds, then swallowed it down to enjoy the scorching it gave her throat. As far back as she could remember, she had always loved that burning sensation. It just seemed a little more potent in Malton, as if the eye-watering fire served as some kind of reminder that she was still alive. It was painful, but not painful. Even as she mused on it, she couldn't figure out the right word to describe how it made her feel. She gave up a moment later and just enjoyed another swallow before capping and tucking the bottle back into her jacket.
"Well, to tell the truth I haven't had much troubles with it. Down in Grayside, you just mention you were a Hunter and people'd roll out the red carpet for you. We kept that neighbourhood safe. It was ours to protect, yanno? People respected that. Up here, I just say I'm looking for ammo, won't be a bother. I help out if they need it, take only what I need, and then I'm gone. Best not to be intrusive, I find. Also helps to lend a hand when they're hurting for one." She smirked and canted a sideways look up at him. "Seems those in charge of the things you want are more willing to part with them if they get something in return."
"And as for being lewd," she went on, turning the smirk into a lop-sided grin, "I've noticed a couple of guys seem to find a girl with excessive hardware is something to gawk at. Not quite sure why."
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Post by mock on May 13, 2007 23:19:47 GMT -5
"Oh sure, yeah, Hunters." Eddie nodded along. More militia nuts, just a different name and a different 'burb. They'd never given him any hassle down south, but he did most of his acquisitions just outside of Grayside, so the Hunters or the barrio's ramshackle neighborhood watch never really crossed paths with him. Still, Cass probably got a whole lot more done under their flag than she could have sticking with the army. The role of the army around here, as Eddie understood it, was to shake nervously near the supply trucks and go "Hey! Hey, we're the army! We're in charge here so you b-b-b-better be scared of us! Army!" Their role was to teeter on the brink of extinction.
"Yeah, Mock used to talk about you guys a lot. You know that skinny little-" Eddie caught the racial slur in his throat, because Saratores sounded vaguely Mexican. "That kid we got in the group, fast-talker, always drawin' and havin' a long face on all the time? Yeah, he's from pretty much the dirtiest old part of Grayside. Used to do what you guys do on like an independant basis, as I understand it. Spoke highly."
"I ain't really an expert on the south, I been living there but I just kinda moved around as I liked, didn't really take notes." Eddie extended a hand past Cass and pointed into the distance, about 45 degrees left of the direction they were walking. "I'm from near here, few neighborhoods away over in Heytown."
Yeah, just keep walking that way along the tracks till you get to the trainyards, look for the exploded cop cars and the streets full of dead young men shredded to bits. Can't miss it.
"And I'll tell ya this," he remarked authoritatively, his grim memories of his home turf failing to surface in hsi tone or demeanor, "I been north, south, I been all over this box and I'll tell ya what I learned about men in Malton: Most of 'em got a gun-boner that'd knock down a door," he grinned. "F'yer getting gawked at, I give it 2 out of 3 they're havin' dirty thoughts about your firearms."
"Which, I mean, is definitely not to say anything against you," he brightened his tone in a way that might have sounded like backpedaling, if everything he said didn't always sounds so self-assured. "S'just what a lot of the poor saps in this town got on the brain. I m'self don't care much for guns, I'm a purist, dig?" He laid out in a way which clearly did not refer to combat tactics.
Oh, so f*cking what, his girl had two other people in line in front of him. So what.
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Post by kinrrataiyath on May 14, 2007 0:11:56 GMT -5
Cass threw her head back and laughed. Well at least this guy was honestly about his crude ways. Most guys who made a pass at her did it with a bad pick up line and a plaque-filled smile. Needless to say, they were not impressive. Honesty, though, she liked. It was a rare guy who could be up front about his intentions and still retain a decent sense of humour. That Drake guy was too uptight; Red was smitten with the scientist, Mullen was turning out to be interesting enough, and the rest were either taken or too young. As far as she knew, Eddie was taken too. A little innocent flirting never hurt anyone though.
"Oh, I get it," she retorted with a grin. Purist indeed. "As for the guys crushing on my weapons, not a one of them has tried approaching me yet. It's the ones who compare their own "weapons" to the size of mine that I gotta worry about. A tool the size of a shotty ain't something I wanna see. I mean... d*mn that would hurt." So she was a little more blatent about the direction of the conversation. No one had ever accused Cass of being modest.
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Post by mock on May 14, 2007 15:56:44 GMT -5
"Well then! I'll do ya the courtesy of keepin' it contained," Eddie laughed, slapping his left thigh by way of an indication. "I'll tell ya though, for a while once I was down south, man, I was ready to chop it off and toss it to the creeps, for all the good it was doin' me. Till me and K ended up bein' a thing, anyway. Heh, you know she told me it'd be okay to keep doin' it the whole time she was pregnant? I mean I ain't a doctor or nothin but uhh.. Anyway, we gave up on that, like, a while ago."
He basically recognized that nobody in the group wanted to hear about, or think about, he and K. In fact, he was fairly certain that everybody but Fa thought he was an utter sunuvabitch for getting involved with her at all. And it's not like it was a thought that escaped him either. But after being with the group for so long, he had almost forgotten that not everybody was so self-important and goody-good. Talking to Cass was almost like talking to a real person. It was like talking to K was sometimes, when he got the chance. He wasn't sure, but it almost seemed like Cass might not have the Disease after all. But he wouldn't let himself be sure; you can't see it in some people until it's too late.
"Heh heh, gotta be a real helluva time gettin' by for a lady in this town, I can only guess. Last place I was at that had this many dick-measurin' contests goin' on, I was wearin' a number on my shirt and my wardrobe involved a lot of orange."
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Post by kinrrataiyath on May 14, 2007 16:15:44 GMT -5
Cass lifted both brows up high enough to merge them with her hairline as the mental image of Eddie in an orange jumpsuit flitted through her mind. She looked up at him, then very obviously gave him a once over as if to test her own image against the real deal. It wasn't too hard to imagine him in a prisoner's outfit, but humerous nonetheless. She'd always figured whoever had come up with that garish colour to replace the black and white pin stripes had done so just to embarrass the crap out of anyone who broke the law.
Cass turned her eyes forward and tried to hide the very amused smirk pulling up the edge of her lips. Keeping a straight face was out of the question.
"So were you the sub or dom?" she inquired with a strain in her tone that just barely disguised the snicker beneath it. She already knew what the answer would be, but she couldn't help asking. It was just too amusing. "I can't picture you being anyone's bitch, and you did say you were a purist. Just makes a girl wonder, yanno.
"I haven't run into any real trouble yet, myself. Any guy who tries to get fresh ends up being spread over a couple blocks. It's not exactly fun, but keeps me sharp. Can't let all that military training go to waste. Still..." she canted her head to look him over again, squinting her eyes as if trying to figure out some deep mystery of his past. "I've always had the advantage of being armed to the teeth and ready for anything. You ever have to do any fancy footwork to get out of a bad situation while wearing that pretty little jumper?"
She left the topic of his thing with Kay alone for now. Whatever they did in their free time was their business. Any kind of happiness that could be found in this hell was worth going after. Yet being a stickler for monogamy made that a little more difficult for her. Much as she enjoyed flings, she hated complications, and this lot was nothing if not complicated. Harmless flirting, she reminded herself. Nothing but.
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Post by mock on May 14, 2007 16:46:11 GMT -5
"Well, I'll tell ya one thing: You don't wanna be somebody's special lady in county, you gotta prove it right outta the gate." He explained with a loud exhalation that blew out into the wind like an exhasperated trust me. "Even a larger fella like me. 'Course I got this pretty face and everything."
"I ain't ever really needed much more than what God gave me, and maybe a few solid surfaces nearby to hold my own, though. Hell, I been fightin' since I was a kid, my daddy taught me how to fight. Well, he taught me how to dodge, fightin' I kinda learned on my own." He laughed, the only emotional response he allowed himself to have to the subject.
"I had guys from my neighborhood in there, too. Got in good with some other guys. It's bein' alone in there is when you're screwed. Y'know, when you're very literally screwed. Havin' a rep doesn't hurt neither. I mean, y'know, I wasn't in there for tax fraud." His light tone was meant to imply less I'm a raging killer and more I'm incapable of tax fraud, but he wasn't sure how it came out. He just couldn't believe somebody actually wanted to hear about jail, even if she was just having a laugh. Everyone back at the house called it posturing, when he'd talk about it. Talking about jail was posturing, talking about the gang was posturing. He was a young guy! He'd been in a gang, been to jail for a bit, came back to the gang! There wasn't a lot else in his history to talk about, unless he went back further than he cared to. If Eddie wanted therapy he'd.. well, he didn't want therapy!
"Y'know, just don't tell the fuzz when we meet 'em, yeah?" He grinned and prodded Cass with his elbow. "And I won't tell 'em about the would-be suitors you've left drippin' down the walls around here."
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Post by kinrrataiyath on May 14, 2007 17:07:04 GMT -5
Cass laughed again, heedless of whatever nasty thing may be lurching around nearby. If some zombie decided to take a lunge at them in the middle of the street in broad daylight, it'd be turned into flambe before it so much as shuffled one step forward. She still had a few of those handy flare guns on her person in case of emergency.
"No problem, hot shot," she chuckled, giving him a nudge in return. "Although if they're still concerned with rounding up tough guys like you, then they got some major problems. There're worse things out there that need tending to than a guy with a shady past. Besides, no one's gonna give you trouble now that you're walking around with high standing military personnel." She gave him a wink, then snickered as her attempt at a straight face failed horribly. "Well... not so high standing. Still, us grunts have some pull around here. We do all the bitch work anyway."
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Post by mock on May 14, 2007 17:30:06 GMT -5
"Hey, sweet deal," he smiled back at her wink (oof, wink at me like that any time), "And, y'know, likewise if we wind up on the Row, you'll get an automatic ghetto-pass," he laughed. Ha ha ha ha no f*cking way are we going there.
'I dunno, seems like you're managing to get somethin' done at least. Though that's probably owin' more to your Hunters than it is to our good government. Only army I seen in the last year that were worth a d*mn've been the ones split off on their own, y'know, you and Mullen and so on. Rest of 'em just hangin' around waitin' to die. I mean, they don't know it, but they're hangin' around waitin' to die. We were gettin baby food and soap and such from one of them ration depots, the higher-up there wanted us to jump through some greasy f*ckin' hoops to get it too. But the way the south blew up, I'd be real surprised if there was anything left of those clowns now." He perhaps-not-completely-subtly steered the subject around in order to goad Cass' professional opinion out of her.
"I mean, you seem like the type who's probably better off out here in the sh!t gettin' something done than sittin' at a depot shakin' in her boots. If ya gotta be here anyway.." Eddie swung hsi leg back and punted a rock down the street, towards the now basically visible police station. "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, take it out and use it or it's gonna rust, y'know?"
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Post by kinrrataiyath on May 14, 2007 17:45:11 GMT -5
"A man after my own heart," she drawled with a smile. She'd been wary of joining up with this group at first, but it seemed their opinions were meshing pretty well. First Mullen, now Eddie. She was beginning to feel almost at home around them; almost regretful that she'd have to head back to Grayside eventually. The Hunters hadn't been doing so well lately.
"Way I see it, government's forgotten us, so I don't owe them a d*mn thing anymore. I offered to help out when I got trapped in here with the rest of you folks, but they wouldn't have any of it." She shrugged non-chalantly, causing her assortment of weaponry to clatter on her back. "So I wandered around til I found a good group to join up with and gave them what expertise I had to offer. The Hunters did a d*mn good job of keeping the streets clean to start, even with the mall nearby. Well organized, mature lot that didn't let petty differences get in the way."
Cass paused for a minute to think back on those first few days. She remembered how she'd found the Hunters initially, and how they hadn't batted an eye at her military garb. They'd just dubbed her one of them, gave her a gun, and let her join the patrol groups. Those had been the good days. After Hinora disappeared, that friendly organization just seemed to.... stop. Like they were nothing without their leader. She shrugged again as if to brush off the disheartening musings and let out a sigh.
"Anyway, that was then, this is now. When that horde moved in to the mall, the Hunters just kinda split. Hinora, our unoffical leader, took off weeks before I did. Wasn't much left of the group at that point and what was left was getting eaten alive. S'why I left when I did. I'm just kinda hoping the rest did likewise and when I head back, they'll be together again. Kind of a stupid hope, but they're my group, yanno?" Cass put some mental brakes on her rambling after that. Since they seemed to be in the mood for sharing stories, she was willing to contribute. However she didn't want to put the poor guy to sleep.
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Post by mock on May 14, 2007 18:11:24 GMT -5
"Yeah, for sure I know," he nodded along, "For sure I know. Group I was in got wiped out during the riots," he awkwardly shrugged his jacket off of his shoulder, displaying the very cheap and simple tatoo on his bicep of a lost hangman game with three dashes filled in H R S underneath. "I got wiped out right along with 'em."
"They were doin the evac and we just decided we weren't moving. Tooled up, looted the gun stores and just held ground. Gangs we were allied with, we took 'em in. Gangs we weren't allied with, we took 'em in. I dunno how long we woulda held up. Didn't get the chance to find out. Cops and the army came in to push us out. My boss, Doyle, rotten son of a bitch but he was the brain. Sniped him right outta who-knows-where, blew him to bits. So then I'm all of a sudden the f*ckin' head of the Stranglers. And I mean, by then what the hell do you do? So we just pushed back as hard as we could. We were killin' them, and they were killin' us, and you gotta know before long, creeps were killin' all of us. I got gunned down. Everybody died. I lucked out and ended up bein' one of the very few who was more than a pile of limbs. I woke up in a lab and the world had ended while I was out."
He continued walking without punctuating his story with a joke or a glib remark, as was his custom. Several seconds passed. "I was kids with those f*ckin' guys, y'know?"
He caught up with the rock he'd kicked before and kicked it again. "That's why, if it comes down to me and a cop, or me and the army, like sometimes it does, well.. no love lost. No offense or nothin'."
But it was possible, it seemed like it was possible to co-exist. Here he was talkin' to living breathing army personnel, and not just looking for an alley to duck into (although yeah) but really talking, and nobody was getting hurt. Last month, he'd beat up that cop and then conciously decided to put Mona away. Maybe it's possible to put certain things behind you.
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