Nicholas D Wolfwood (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
louboutinjudas) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
nomans_land2023-06-08 09:07 am
louboutinjudas) wrote in nomans_land2023-06-08 09:07 am
Somewhere between July and December
1.
[ It wasn't the fastest car he'd ever driven, but it made better time than the old man's shitty station wagon had, and it was definitely faster than walking across the desert. None of the maps he'd found tucked under the seat had Hopeland on them, which was worrisome as all hell, but on one of the maps there was an orphanage marked, just off of a city called December.
The ghost he'd talked to on that mountaintop had told him he'd die in December, but that ghost had also ruined his last cigarette, so fuck that guy. If he died, he died, but first, he was going to make sure Miss Melanie and the kids were okay.
The sedan hums its way across the desert, kicking up a dust cloud that can be seen for miles. ]
2.
[ With a shudder and a hard jolt, the car comes screeching to a halt, the dash going dead as the engine seizes up. Wolfwood swears, punches the dash, then swears again when the solid dash nearly breaks his hand for his trouble. He'd managed to get the car hotwired, but apparently cars in this messed up version of Noman's were more different from the ones he knew than he'd realized. Is it out of oil? Out of charge? Not like he can do anything about it, whatever the problem.
Please ignore the man in black, standing next to a very dead car in the middle of absolute nowhere and screaming at the sky. It's therapeutic profanity, and it really is helping. ]
3.
[ Sunburned and exhausted, Wolfwood crests the hill and finally, there before him, sees the building that his map identifies as the December Orphanage. Even from a distance it's clear that the chaos that's affected the rest of the planet hit here, too -- there's clear bullet holes in at least one side of the building, walls that have collapsed, and the whole place seems as deserted as everywhere else he's been.
But he's here now, so he might as well have a look around.
He really wishes he still had his Punisher, though. ]
[ It wasn't the fastest car he'd ever driven, but it made better time than the old man's shitty station wagon had, and it was definitely faster than walking across the desert. None of the maps he'd found tucked under the seat had Hopeland on them, which was worrisome as all hell, but on one of the maps there was an orphanage marked, just off of a city called December.
The ghost he'd talked to on that mountaintop had told him he'd die in December, but that ghost had also ruined his last cigarette, so fuck that guy. If he died, he died, but first, he was going to make sure Miss Melanie and the kids were okay.
The sedan hums its way across the desert, kicking up a dust cloud that can be seen for miles. ]
2.
[ With a shudder and a hard jolt, the car comes screeching to a halt, the dash going dead as the engine seizes up. Wolfwood swears, punches the dash, then swears again when the solid dash nearly breaks his hand for his trouble. He'd managed to get the car hotwired, but apparently cars in this messed up version of Noman's were more different from the ones he knew than he'd realized. Is it out of oil? Out of charge? Not like he can do anything about it, whatever the problem.
Please ignore the man in black, standing next to a very dead car in the middle of absolute nowhere and screaming at the sky. It's therapeutic profanity, and it really is helping. ]
3.
[ Sunburned and exhausted, Wolfwood crests the hill and finally, there before him, sees the building that his map identifies as the December Orphanage. Even from a distance it's clear that the chaos that's affected the rest of the planet hit here, too -- there's clear bullet holes in at least one side of the building, walls that have collapsed, and the whole place seems as deserted as everywhere else he's been.
But he's here now, so he might as well have a look around.
He really wishes he still had his Punisher, though. ]
no subject
[But a few? Maybe bargains could be made and those few could shake the dust of this planet off their feet forever. Anywhere else would do over this miserable place. If it meant giving up being an assassin, well, that's a small price to pay.]
But I can't imagine they'll put up with genocide either. Plants came from Earth, they have to have a way to put a lid on all this. I'm not keen on relying on some government at all, never mind one from some other planet but what we're doing isn't working, so time to try something new.
[If the Terrans could contend with Knives, the people of No Man's Land could contend with the rest, the rest at least were fellow humans. A more even playing field than true monsters.]
..When things settle down a bit, I'm going to give it a shot. Not much else to lose.
[There's an invitation there, albeit unspoken. Wolfwood was one of the very rare Gung Ho Guns that wasn't an intolerable sociopath.]
no subject
Him, and the Eye. ]
Hey, you get a chance to get on one of those ships and get the hell out of here, you take it and don't look back.
[ Now seems like a prime time to grab that pack of smokes off the floorboards... and look at that. This car's even got a cigarette lighter with the coil still in the slot. Will wonders never cease? ]
Maybe I'll make it out to Earth one day myself.