Somewhere between July and December

[louboutinjudas]

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. ]

Comments

[graveresemblance]

[this is tough...this is hard. so many parts of him wants to tell Wolfwood to set it back down, to peace, to rest, with his Wolfwood...but he knows, this is better.

a nod. slumped shoulders]

Yeah, I am. C'mon, then.

[louboutinjudas]

[ He's still got that big stone! What's he need a gun as a grave marker for when somebody spent some time and effort and chipped a cross into that huge fucking slab of rock, huh?

Was that Livio who did that? Wolfwood can't think of anyone else who'd care enough about him to make sure his grave stayed put. He's buried plenty of people over the years -- and left plenty more to rot on the sand, if he's being honest -- and never once has he put up a stone for anybody. Only once has he wanted to. Livio should have had a stone like this, he thinks, resting Punisher on his shoulder and heading back into the orphanage. Something neat and plain, but nice, that the little kids would have ended up drawing on. It's right in the heart of the place, isn't it?

Not a bad spot, really. It's not a bad place to rest at all. ]

You two grew up here, right?

[ There's nobody around to make big stupid eyes at him for being a softie, so fuck it. Maybe talking about the dead guy would help Livio here get over his feelings about Wolfwood busting up his friend's grave? ]

With Miss Melanie and a pile of snot-nosed kids?

[ The wind is picking up, so Wolfwood hustles his ass inside. No reason to get sandblasted when there's shelter available, right? ]

[graveresemblance]

[he should clean his own guns, make sure he's ready. but all he can do is watch Wolfwood fiddle with the Punisher once they get in there, watch his shoulders retreat]

Yeah, with Miss Melanie and all the kids for awhile. Not all that long before I left...but yeah.

[louboutinjudas]

[ It's not a bad idea to keep an eye on Wolfwood as he removes the wrappings and sets to work examining the Punisher on the kitchen floor. It's different than the one he's familiar with, and if he hits the wrong switch by accident they both need to be ready to run!

He glances up at Livio over the top of his glasses at that comment, and shrugs sympathetically. ]

The Livio I know, he was pretty little too when the Eye came for him. [ Although that's not quite how it played out, is it? ] When he volunteered to go with them, I mean.

[ Stupid kid. ]

[graveresemblance]

[having been on the receiving end of that rocket launcher...he's not keen on repeating that.]

I was maybe...10 or 11 when we found 'em. Or they found us, I guess. Yeah.

[they were stupid, but he knows, too, that Razlo wanted to protect them]

[louboutinjudas]

Yeah, that sounds about right.

[ Very few of the kids he'd known back then -- himself included -- had a real solid idea about how old they were. It didn't really matter, in the end -- you did the work you were big enough to do, and if birthdays were important then you picked a day and that was that!

Wolfwood's fingers pause on a particularly nasty bit of damage on the case of the Punisher -- a spray of scorch marks that looks like the go into the body of the gun, which shouldn't have been possible unless the facing had been removed on that part. ]

It was too damn young.

[ Sure, he hadn't been much older, but there's a world of difference between a kid about to hit their teenage growth spurt, and a little brat who can barely even tie their own shoes. ]

[graveresemblance]

It was...

[they all were, and he and Nicholas probably weren't even the youngest taken...or possibly made, there. there's just so much he doesn't know, that they'll find out on this crusade]

But I don't know how my life would've gone, still.

[louboutinjudas]

[ Aha! The part with the scorch marks does come off, and that seems to be where the belt of ammunition for a large caliber gun was stored. Still is stored, amazingly enough -- it looks like the ammo was set off inside the Punisher, but at least some survived, and the mechanisms for feeding it through look like they're still in working order.

What the hell kind of fight was this? He can't help but be impressed. ]

Sorry, I can't read the future. But it really doesn't matter, does it? No matter what we were, where we ended up, we wouldn't have been there.

[ There's dried blood inside the casing. It's smeared a bit, not like somebody's bloody hand wiped over it, but like somebody tried to clean it out and didn't get it all. Like somebody tried to make the Punisher look as good as possible, before they wrapped it back up and stuck it at the head of that grave out there.

Wolfwood swallows hard, and turns to another compartment. This is feeling more and more like a dissection all the time. ]

We wouldn't be here, now.

[graveresemblance]

[here's someone who also feels like he's being dissected, without even any effort. and he'd done it all himself, opening his big mouth.

he keeps his eyes off the Punisher.]

So fuck fate, basically.

[louboutinjudas]

[ No, Livio's not looking at the open Punisher, is he? Sorry, pal. There's no helping it -- he's got to know if there's any ammo left, what all the levers do, make sure everything is working, and opening it up like this is the only way to do that.

If it makes things any better, at least he's being respectful about it? Light touches, not forcing any of the switches that don't want to be forced... you know. Gentle and shit. ]

Basically!

[ So if the long end is the machine gun, and the T-bar is mostly just ammo, then what's in the short end? ]

Fate, God, call it whatever you like. If there's somebody who wanted you to be born just so you could have to suffer through all the shit you've been through? Then fuck that guy.

[ Oh, hmm, no. He thought this panel opened up on the ammo for whatever caliber is loaded up in the short end, but it's the personal effects hatch instead. It's surprisingly empty -- usually the spare suit takes up most of the room, at least on his. He had to really wedge his razor and toothbrush back in, and good luck if you wanted anything from the bottom of the hatch. Guess this guy didn't worry about a change of shorts, huh?

Let's see... what else is in here? ]

[graveresemblance]

Hmm...never really thought of it. Not even when Chapel was training me.

[and that's another thing he grapples with, and tries not to-- wishes he could erase his memory of that, of the sound of his voice in his ear, of his praise. wanting to be the best for him...]

Ignored shit like that. Razlo was the strongest, that's all that mattered.

[louboutinjudas]

[ What is that, a hair tie? Did this Wolfwood have long enough hair to need to wear it back? Ha. Weirdo.

Oh no, some of that hair's blond. Heh. Is that a trophy, then? He must've... wait, Razlo? Wolfwood drops the hair elastic back into the Punisher and frowns at Livio. ]

Who's Razlo?

[graveresemblance]

[oh
did his other self...not mention...
uh]

He's uh, me, mostly.

[louboutinjudas]

[ It's just one of those quirky differences between their worlds! ]

What, it's the name the Eye gave you? Like I'm Nicholas the Punisher?

[ Which is a stupid fucking name, getting named after the damn gun, but it could have been worse. ]

[graveresemblance]

No, that's-- really stupid-- I was Livio the Doublefang...and he was Razlo the Trip of Death. He's. He's me, he's in my head.

[louboutinjudas]

[ It is really stupid! At least Doublefang sounds cool!

What doesn't sound cool is the idea that there's somebody else in Livio's head. Is that what the Eye did to him? Did they put an implant in there to make him hear voices? Wolfwood rubs a hand over his face, unable to believe what he's hearing. ]

Goddamn, Livio.

[ Killing them all isn't going to be good enough. It isn't going to be good enough by half. ]

I didn't know. Shit, they just... they just did whatever they wanted to, huh.

[graveresemblance]

[it doesn't hearten him to hear Wolfwood so distressed for him-- it worries Livio in turn, actually. he frowns--]

They did-- but Razlo was before them. We're-- he was born to protect me, I guess.

[he Does Not want to go into what brought him out, but..]

[louboutinjudas]

[ Okay, that's less distressing but a lot more confusing! ]

I have to admit, I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about.

[ And, at the end of the day, does it matter? They've both got their secrets, right? It's not his place to nose into somebody else's business like this, not even Livio's. Especially not Livio's -- the man deserves to have his privacy respected. He's had enough people poking around in his head -- Wolfwood's not going to be one of 'em. ]

If he protected you, then good. Maybe one day I'll get to meet him and buy him a drink.

[graveresemblance]

[he ruffles his own hair, and sighs. he doesn't know how else to try and explain-- Razlo's just Razlo. and Livio's Livio. even now, he isn't afraid of his other self, doesn't hate him.

that's just a part of him. his mouth quirks]

You know, I think he'd like that. He's a real punk, though, so.

[louboutinjudas]

In case you haven't noticed, pal? So'm I.

[ Another person, inside him. Huh. This world is sure a strange one.

Anyway! Back to the gun in front of him. He was just trying to figure out what kind of ammo this top bar uses. If the machine gun takes a whopping 50 cal -- which is going to be so much fun to test out! -- then what's this top bit use?

And then he sees it, and it's like the light of heaven shines on this boy's face. It's Christmas, and he just got the best toy ever. This is amazing. ]

This thing's got a rocket launcher?!

[graveresemblance]

[he's content to hum, and nod. they are punks. but he won't elaborate just how much of a punkass jerk Razlo is. let him discover that in due time, like all this.

the newest discovery brings a chuckle out of him]

Sure does. Hurts like hell, too.

[louboutinjudas]

[ Maybe it's not as hi-tech as his laser, but he can't wait to see the size of a hole this thing'll...

...did Livio just say he's been hit with it?

Wolfwood cackles, and waves for Livio to continue. ]

Oh, I've got to hear this story!

[graveresemblance]

[he grimaces a little-- oh why did he open his mouth...]

It uh, we were in a fight with one another. And he fired it off at me-- the first one I caught, but the other one I caught with my face.

[louboutinjudas]

With your face?!

[ So it was a real fight, then? Maybe like the one that happened between him and his world's Livio on the sand steamer?

Crap. Wolfwood regards Livio evenly, shaking his head. ]

You know, you can just tell me to shut the fuck up if I ask you somethin' you don't want to talk about.

[graveresemblance]

Oh-- no, no I don't...I don't mind that much, if it'll help you out.

[he wants to help Wolfwood prevent this, if he can. can he?]