Nicholas D Wolfwood (
louboutinjudas) wrote in
nomans_land2023-06-08 09:07 am
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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
I heard you died a worm's death as a traitor.
[The sardonic tone to the saxophonist's voice is not matched by his expression, he looks terribly amused, and entirely at Wolfwood's expense. This is funny. Of course it also meant that the Stampede was likely to catch wind of it very soon, and then what would become of that pretty little grave in the ruins?]
Makes two of us I guess, but your memory or your geography is shit, it was Lewiston. Get in.
[Midvalley doesn't make moves that he thinks would put his own life on the line unless the other option is somehow worse, but he doesn't see exceptional risk here. Chapel was a killer like all of them, but wasn't exactly another Monev and wasn't about to just go around slaughtering people for funsies. Not even enemies, when the enemy was more useful alive. There's arguing with him of course, or some ridiculous effort at a hold-up, but he doesn't expect he will be, not when anything else would mean walking on foot in this godforsaken desert. He jerks a thumb backwards, expression leveling out. He still had places to be, and it sure as hell wasn't hanging around out here. He'd made his own choice, and it was as calculated as every other one he made.]
There's drinks in the back. Blue bottle's poison, anything else is at your own risk.
no subject
Lewiston? That place is a dump, even for you.
[ He's probably not fooling anybody with that hand behind his back as he comes around to the passenger side of the car, but sometimes a bluff is the only option for the hand you're dealt. He'll keep up the pretense as long as he can, sliding that hand down by his leg as he opens the door and climbs into the passenger seat, but let's be real -- if Midvalley wanted him dead, all he had to have done was keep driving. ]
That better not be where we're headed.
[ Because now that he's in Midvalley's car, they're going where Midvalley wants, right? ]
no subject
[Of course he has an ulterior motive and it's one hundred percent selfish, it just happens to also benefit Wolfwood a little too. The only mark at all that the potential of a gun is being minded is the way Midvalley is keeping an eye on his approach. It never hurts to be a little cautious.]
... Nah. I've got no desperate need to see if I was left an epitaph.
[He would get no epitaph, as he already knows. Their line of work left little room for true friends, or family of any kind. That someone lingered after Wolfwood died and seemed to actually care was a surprise enough, but plants were strange, and there was no knowing why Vash did what he did.
But he'll never be returning to Lewiston if he had a say in the matter. The beat up jalopy Wolfwood had been driving before is given one last mildly disgusted look for merely existing as a rusted out piece of crap before the car is put back in gear.]
Stampede claimed Legato and Knives are dead too. I think at this point it's a bad idea to declare anyone dead and gone, death's not sticking. It's just tempting fate at this point. [Knives was a terror, but Legato was a more personal horror he'd prefer dodging for the rest of eternity.] I'm headed to Warrens City, there's two stops on the way you can pick from.
no subject
You talked to a different one than I did, then.
[ Does Midvalley know there's multiple copies of people here? Has he had that revelation yet? It's a hell of a shock when it happens, to be sure!
Also: there's drinks in the back, sure, but Midvalley hasn't taken up smoking recently, has he? And maybe left his pack on the dash? ]
The Stampede I met earlier swore up and down that Knives was still alive.
[ The punchline, that Wolfwood's been dreading, is that Knives is probably here somewhere... and where Knives goes, his blue-haired dog always follows. Stampede's a pushover, hardly worth the effort, but Knives? Knives would splatter their guts across the desert floor without a second thought.
The further they can get from any independent plant, they longer they'll all live. Assuming, of course, that they're all still alive. This being Hell isn't off the table yet, as far as Wolfwood's concerned. ]
There's other dead folks here, too, people I'm sure are dead. I don't know what the hell is going on, but it's not good.
no subject
There's more than one of---]
Of course there's more of them. Why wouldn't there be.
[He didn't know if it'd be better to laugh or cry.]
Humanity's fucked, even if we're somehow coming back from the dead. One.. maybe we could have challenged one.
[How many of these monsters were out there? Did they just have to hope a couple were benevolent instead of hellbent on erasing their entire species, and that THOSE ones wouldn't change their minds according to some fey rules humanity wasn't privy to?
Midvalley does not smoke, but there's a nonzero chance that somewhere in this vehicle is a pack of cigarettes. SOMEONE he's picked up, dropped off or murdered likely smoked, the odds were in its favor.]
From what I heard in December, something's gone off with time too. Some lady said she was from just after the Fall, and others from decades after now. I don't know what the hell they did, but I'm willing to bet it has to do with those brothers, however many of them there are.
no subject
He'll leave that tidbit for later, though. No reason to show his whole hand at once. ]
This lady, in December... don't suppose her name was Rem, was it?
[ He'd met her in July, or what passed for July on this world, but there's no reason the duplicates needed to all be in the same spot, right? ]
no subject
[A coincidence, apparently, he's never heard of Rem at all, but that meant there were two people from early in and not just one. The idea of an assassin making good money with music was a ridiculous notion to most, but Midvalley had been a killer second and a musician foremost until Knives changed the rules.
Speaking of.]
A tip for the only other asshole out here who seems to realize how dangerous they all are: Stay out of Octovern. Everyone's saying that's where all the missing plants are, and if they're there, he's going to be there too, or will be headed there, and so will however many brothers he's got now. Place is going to go up like July.
[The only other traitor currently, and also apparently with the good sense to get the hell out of Dodge while the getting is good.
It had never been personal for Midvalley. He'd offer the same to Hoppered.]
no subject
And in the same category of 'things that are funny'... there's still people out there spending money on concerts? He can't imagine being that kind of stupid, but if folks at the end of the world want to waste what cash they've got left on the busted radiator sounds that Midvalley calls music? Good for him lightening their wallets. A man's got to make a living, after all. ]
It's not just the plants gathering in Octovern, or so I hear. [ Something on the floorboard catches his eye -- is that a pack of Wams? Blessed fucking day -- he'll grab that in a minute, or when Midvalley kicks him out, whichever comes first. Not like he's got a lighter at the moment anyway. ] You're gonna love this. There's ships from Earth in Octovern. They're having a meeting right now, local bigwigs and folks from Earth.
[ If they don't all kill each other, things might really start to get better! That's a big 'if', though. Wolfwood's taking odds on the killing option, personally. ]
no subject
There's a looong silence when earth ships are mentioned. Wasn't Knives cutting satellites out of orbit? Was that why? Earth was a dream, a lost point of origin and nearly a myth at best. Ships though, ships meant..]
Huh.
[Could the people from Earth, with all the advantages of a pre-crash civilization, rein in the lethal risk of the likes of the twins?]
That's good news, if they can keep themselves from getting shot. Maybe we can get off this dustball. Leave it to the plants if they want it so bad.
no subject
They'd still have their tech, though, Wolfwood knows, and the army they'd built. Folks who were too monstrous, too brainwashed, or too otherwise damaged to return to the world, and that is going to be a fight. He can't imagine the Earth forces will want to work with a local cult, and the Eye won't give up what little they've got left without a fight.
Might be worth sticking around, just to help clear them out. A little vengeance is good for the soul, right? ]
You think they'd take everyone? A couple million new mouths to feed, whose only skills are rootin' around in the trash and killing each other?
[ Nobody's that charitable. There might be a couple folks whose skills, or wealth, will be enough to buy them a ticket off-planet, but the rest of them are still going to die in the dust, aren't they? Maybe they'll live longer, eat better, see their kids grow up, but if the Earth fleet is here to bring everyone back to the homeworld, Wolfwood will eat both his shoes. ]
The best I'm hopin' for is a handout, maybe a couple new wells.
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.