nomans_land | Somewhere between July and December

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. ]

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[ If they can’t get all the windows secure then they’ll do the best they can, right? If any rooms have running water still, they should go there –- kitchen, bathroom, laundry room? –- and get those windows sealed up first. They might have to hunker in place awhile, and it’ll be easier to do that if they’re not clawing at the walls with thirst. ]

Did they have tools here, do you know?

[ He’s running through the halls, shouting through the empty rooms at Livio as he searches for anything to get those kitchen windows covered. ]

Hammer an’ nails? We can nail these doors up over the windows!

[ This place really should have had storm shutters! And maybe it does, and he just doesn’t know where they are? ]

[he's just, a little beside himself, Livio's also running around like a chicken with it's head cut off, and he does discover some stuff they can use to barricade. wooden furniture that's seen better days, certainly]

Uh, I think Melanie left that in the kitchen, in the pantry.

[he's already halfway there by the time his sentence ends]

In the kitchen?!

[ Why the hell...? Ah, it doesn't matter, so long as Livio's right. Back down the hall he goes, jumping over discarded toys and all the detritus of the earlier evacuation, to the kitchen pantry. And success! There's a hammer, among other tools, and a jar of nails that should be long enough to go through a door and into the window frame. ]

Found it!

[ Now to go rip some doors off their hinges, to cover the big windows in the kitchen. And soon -- it's dark as night outside, damn. The air doesn't smell like a sandstorm though, which is weird. It smells... cold? ]

There's something wrong about this storm. I don't like it.

[Livio would never question Miss Melanie! Even if it is a little strange. It is what it is-- he's just some orphan, she's in charge.

it's eerie and strange. there's a strange feeling in the air, like an electric feeling of danger.]

This entire thing is wrong, ain't it?

[he knows Wolfwood is right, but he doesn't want to dwell on it. one problem at a time]

[ This whole world is wrong, he's right about that. He won't say it out loud, out of some petty superstition about not naming bad shit in the hopes it doesn't happen, but after all the weirdness that's already going on, he's a little concerned about what that storm might be bringing with it. Is it really just a sandstorm, or are they going to find themselves transported to somewhere ever stranger than this?

He really doesn't want this version of Livio to vanish. He can't help it -- he likes the guy. ]

At least we're inside, right?

[ There's no time for navel gazing or stressing about what-ifs! With a solid kick Wolfwood knocks the first door free -- sorry to Miss Melanie's office, or whatever this room used to be -- and it's going up over that first big window in the kitchen. ]

You ever get stuck out in one of these?

[he's happy to be using his hands to do some creation instead of just wanton destruction, of ruin. even if all this'll be ruined from the storm, eventually. so he's content to have something to do, to be useful.]

A sandstorm? Yeah, plenty. It sure sucked ass....

[the company then was also bad]

What about you?

[ Helping save both their lives is pretty useful! Here, if Livio can hold the door up over the window, Wolfwood can get the nails sunk into the window frame. Good thing these are proper synth wood doors and not that hollow core shit, huh? ]

Just once. Little ones all the time, but a big one like this? Just once.

[ He aligns the next nail, and hammers it home with three wall-rattling blows. ]

I tried to hunker down in a sand dune like they taught us, but that didn't do a damn thing. Damn wind shredded the hell out of my shirt.

[ And the flesh under it, but that's all in a day's work, right? ]

This one's bigger, I think.

[it feels bigger. more...something. maybe this is what animals feel before there's some sort of disaster.

he can't shake it off. but he'll work, hauling and aligning and holding]

Mmm. Glad the one you were in wasn't worse for you. I didn't have any supplies in mine, but I didn't get too hurt, either.

[ Wolfwood just nods at that -- good. Even though Livio can heal, it's still no fun getting hurt in the first place, right? ]

Hey, how's that work, anyway? Healing without using a vial of that shit.

[ Just a couple more nails, and this door will be nice and secure. Outside, through the other, uncovered window, the sky is the color of a fresh bruise, and Wolfwood's pretty sure he's seeing heat lightning in there. It's gonna be bad. ]

Is it automatic, or do you have to make it work?

[ And then, just a second later: ]

Tell me to fuck off if you don't want to talk about it, okay?

[he doesn't find the questions invasive or annoying or anything. just the memories aren't great, but Wolfwood's curiosity isn't a bad thing to Livio. so the big man shrugs, hoping this place doesn't catch fire]

It's automatic. I don't gotta think about it or anything. Uh, whatever they did during, made it so I didn't need 'em unless it gets real bad, real fast.

[ No, the memories aren't great. But Wolfwood's gonna do his best to never ever ask anything that wakes up a memory. Stuff about here, now, that's safe enough... he hopes. ]

I've got to say, that's a neat trick. I wouldn't mind...

[ But his voice trails off as the view outside the uncovered window grabs his full attention. The storm's on them now, the wind screaming over every nook and cranny in the walls outside and the canyon beyond. But that's not what's got Wolfwood staring like a fool out the window.

There's water on the glass. Drops of water.

Without looking away, he beckons Livio over. ]

Hey. Hey, c'mere, are you seeing this?

[ Is that rain? ]

[Livio would would, for Wolfwood. his body is big and tough and he can take a lot of punishment, but Wolfwood doesn't deserve that. it isn't worth it if Livio can't protect anyone. and he feels he can't.

he starts at the sound-- the pattering, rapidly growing louder, atop the roof]

....Rain? Seriously?

[ It sure looks like rain! But that's not possible, is it? ]

That can't be real.

[ There's got to be another explanation -- a water tank exploded, or... or something. Wolfwood's heading for the kitchen door before he realizes it -- he's got to see this for himself!

The wind roars into the kitchen when he flings the door open, but it's not at dangerous levels yet -- eye stinging, but not enough to knock a man over. And even though it's dark as hell, there's no way to miss the rain being whipped through the air by that wind -- it's coming down in sheets, icy needles that have Wolfwood shivering almost immediately. But he's not going back inside yet, because this? ]

...It's a miracle.

[he pads after Wolfwood, surprisingly quiet, and the wind is chilly, the rain is-- wow.

Wow. his eyes are wide, mouth agape]

The only one I'd ever believe in, seeing it myself.

[ It's unbelievable! Wolfwood tips his head back, opening his mouth to the rain. It's cool and fresh, and so clean -- for a kid from the sticks, it's maybe the cleanest water he's ever tasted. He wants to run in it, take his shirt off and let it soak into his skin, let it wash all the dust and blood and everything else away and...

...oh, shit, they should be saving this. ]

Buckets! [ His loafers slip in the mud as he runs back inside, laughing like a kid. ] We need buckets, pots, pans, anything!

[ With how the wind is howling, any water they save will be full of silt, but that's nothing new. Silt can be settled out, filtered through a rag, hell, they can leave it in and use the water for washing up. There's just so much water. He's never seen this much water before! ]

[without another word it's back to the kitchen with them-- and under the sink, and in a cabinet by the collapsed stove, there are some rusty pots, a couple of pans, something that still has a little old food in--]

Buckets...maybe in that closet by the basement door?

[maybe he was a little scared of that closet as a kid-- the thought blooms to his mind at this moment. he'd forgotten]

Watch out for monsters.

[ Gross pans, rusty pans, grab 'em all! They can boil it clean or use it for washing, that's a problem for later! For now, they need to save every drop that they can. Hell, where's the big washtub? He'll go find that after he gets the buckets in the closet.

The closet with the monsters. ]

Ha! Crybaby, don't tell me you're still scared of ghosts?

[ It is a big dark closet at the top of the stairs, really a small room rather than a closet, deep and creaky and full of wispy worm larvae silk, and old tools, and big shrouded shapes. His Livio had been terrified of it -- that's where the monsters lived.

Now they're the monsters. But the memory, and the similarities between this Livio and his Livio, are warming the hell out of Wolfwood's cold stone heart. Who would have thought that being kidnapped by a bunch of plants into a world with too many Vashes would be the best thing that ever happened to him? ]

I'm not gonna hold your hand if you need to piss later, I'm telling you that right now!

[he isn't afraid anymore. the scariest thing is the face in the mirror that he faces every day. the feeling of unease lingers, though-- at least in that closet you could always hear the other kids outside-- here, it's silent. just the two of them]

That wasn't me, that was Andre!

[a little defensive]

[ That was Andre! Wolfwood's grin over his shoulder is, for once, genuinely delighted. Their worlds really were similar, weren't they? After some of the shit he's seen, some of the weird fucking versions of people he knows, having Livio here is just, well. Nice. ]

Oh, okay, I must have just imagined a little white-haired brat snuffling at me about the monsters in the hallway.

[ Aha! Buckets! A whole stack of 'em, sturdy 5-gallons in a pile at the back of the storage space. ]

I was never considered little.

[grumbling at Wolfwood's back, and that darn grin. that's happy...that's good, it's nice. normal in comparison to this.

but he's got those pots and pans under his arms, and he's marching out the door, turning them up, getting that water]

[ This smirk says the fuck you weren't, so he doesn't need to say it out loud. Instead, he follows Livio out of the storage room, veeering off down the hall when Livio takes the pots outside, half-formed thoughts of the upstairs tub rattling around in his head.

But the hallway is full of water. ]

Oh shit.

[ It's leaking in from the other side of the building -- not very much, not very deep, but enough that the whole hallway runner is soaked and the toys and trash that had been abandoned out here are starting to swell and discolor. It hadn't occurred to him that the water might hit the bedrock and have nowhere to go, but that's clearly what's happening.

Cursing under his breath he heads into the kitchen to shout for Livio: ]

Oi, we've got a leak!

[ And without waiting for a reply, he's pounding up the stairwell to the upper floor and the big washroom, where all the towels should be. ]

[why didn't he consider this-- of course there's a huge chance, no a promise, that water would start to leak from those giant HOLES up there--

sighing a little, some of those pots he was using to collect water from the doorway?

now going to one of the leaks he can see]

Wonder if I should get out there, tarp it off...

[definitely DON'T panic because it's getting pretty wild out there from the sounds on the roof]

You think it's coming from the roof?

[ He's hollering from upstairs still, on his way back down with the handful of towels still left in the big washroom. ]

Could be! Let's go take a look, huh?

[ He assumed it was coming from the back door, flooding out from the ring of the canyon behind them, but there's only one way to know! His loafers slosh through the water on the hallway carpet, and he's already wishing for a pair of boots by the time he gets to the back half of the building.

And it turns out they're both right. There's water trickling from the ceiling, no doubt coming through a hole in the upper story roof, and it's clearly flooding into the building from under the back courtyard door. Fuck. ]

You think you can tarp it off? [ If Livio can get the roof sealed up, Wolfwood can secure this door, and any others on this side of the building. Together, they might just be able to stop this place from drowning. ] Let me get this, then do you need a hand?

[from the guy who has boots on, this isn't much better. the tops of his socks are beginning to dampen, but nothing as bad as Wolfwood's no freaking socks and his loafers, soft and soggy.

Now he does sigh, very loudly, drenched and all. but they have to do this-- maybe there's something salvageable from this.]

Yeah, I can. Uh, as for a tarp...lemme see.

[god, this is just. he feels a little helpless]

I'll figure it out, you focus on your job, yeah?

[ This place survived a hell of a shootout, right? They owe it to Melanie to make sure it doesn't fall apart because of a little water.

Or even a lot of water. ]

Got it, yell if you need anything.

[ Because this really is a lot of water! Wolfwood wades into the nearly ankle-deep water to the back door, and starts cramming towels into the crack at the bottom. Most places had big solid doors, with flaps at the edges to keep the sand and dust out, but the orphanage he remembered could never afford things like that, and it seems like this place is the same. Handing a little kid a broom in the back hallway was a thousand times cheaper than buying anything to keep the dust out, which meant that the gap under the door -- big enough to stick his fingers through without touching the door or the floor -- was doing nothing to stop the flood waters rushing in.

He gets the towels crammed into the gap, but they're threadbare things, hardly more than rags. Already he can see the water seeping through them, and he swears under his breath. This isn't going to work.

New plan: grab Punisher and head upstairs, away from the flooding, and hope that the walls really are made of stone like he's always assumed, and not mud brick. ]

How's the roof looking?

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