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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[it's more like a tragedy than a miracle when his skin begins to knit back together--more like smoke curling into the air, but where's the fire? back in hell, probably.

the familiar nickname has his eyelids fluttering, his throat swallowing back a lump]

'm fine.

[ A miracle, hard earned. He never doubted for a second. ]

You're damn right.

[ He really can heal from anything, can't he? Not even a bullet in his head would stop him.

Wolfwood holds out a blood-smeared hand, to help Livio to his feet. If he accepts, then as soon as he stands he's getting pulled into a hug, no fucking arguments. Sorry not sorry. ]

You fucking dumbass.

[nothing'll remain of this wound, just the psychological damage! no worries there. he sighs loudly, lugs expanding again now that there isn't anything metal in his stomach, ironing all his other organs out--

and takes Wolfwood's hand, hauling himself up with a groan]

Same to you.

[ He threatened a hug and he's gonna deliver. It's a great clinging bear hug of a hug, too -- no manly back slapping here, no. He fucking missed you, you stupid sonovabitch. ]

That's what you get for listening to me. [ Going up on the roof after the storm worm was a terrible idea! Don't listen to him when he has terrible ideas! ] The hell were you thinking?

[ No, he's not letting go. This hug is making up for lost time. ]

Oh--

[oh, this is--

oh. he hadn't had-- Wolfwood's very warm in his arms, that have automatically come up to wrap around the other's middle. hesitantly, like he's holding something precious, something fragile (1/2). he smells like blood and cigs and cheap crap]

That I was gonna follow you this time. [his voice shakes]

[The rain is lessening, noticeably, the desert reclaiming its ferocious dryness as quickly as it can. The clouds will take longer to dissipate, the occasional crack of lightning or slow roll of thunder likewise fading by degrees. This does little for all the standing water all over the place already.

By the faint stink of ichor and viscera on the wind that isn't theirs, isn't human, the grand worm that had apparently caused all this hadn't quite made it to safety as instinct demanded. Bullets can be brushed off with a hard carapace and sheer size, rockets are another matter. Out beyond the edge of the buildings, its unusual pale blue lights fade by degrees, leaving only agitated small swarmers darting about.

A small handful of the bugs dart around them instead for a minute or two. One lands on the discarded, bloody piece of trash, but none try to land on the pair or sting.

The wind from the south already feels hotter.]

No, Livio, jesus christ.

[ Oh you stupid...! He's gonna squeeze Livio until the other man stops being so goddamn careless with his life! Don't make Wolfwood feel this way! He hates feeling this way!

And he's not fucking fragile! Just because he's smaller than the other Wolfwood was doesn't mean anything!

He might have stood there forever, arms wrapped around somebody his brother could have been, if it weren't for the bugs. He doesn't notice the stink of viscera with the stink of all this mud, but he sure notices the little swarm of flyers buzzing around them. It's probably fine? But maybe they should get inside, just in case. ]

Hey. [ He pats Livio on the back -- c'mon, you big lug, cry time's over, time to get back to work. ] Hey, we should get inside.

[if he had failed, if he had failed this Wolfwood too, if he'd come out of this dead-- he wouldn't have been able to live with himself.

he pats Wolfwood right back, nods, sniffles.]

This is gonna be shitty.

Story of my life, pal.

[ Everything's shitty -- that's just how it is! But with Livio on one side and using Punisher as a crutch on the other, he can hobble his way into the building without having to put any more weight on his busted leg. And the rain easing up with help with that too -- the icy needles from earlier are slowing, and instead now the rain is big wet spattering drops as the clouds purge the last of their reserves.

They killed that big worm, and the rain went away. Damn. He kinda wishes they hadn't shot at it now. ]

You ever see a worm that big before? That could fly, I mean?

[this rain may be washng some of the blood from his clothes, his face, but not his hands, not ever. it's still refreshing, at least. waking him up, ensuring he won't pass out just yet-- but god he needs to sleep so bad.]

No, but...isn't The Beast connected to the worms? That's what I'd heard. Don't think I've met them.

[ There's got to be somewhere inside where they can both stop for awhile, Livio to sleep and Wolfwood to splint his leg. Just their luck that somewhere is probably upstairs, though, huh? ]

No? Lucky you. I can't stand that little shit.

[ Almost there, buddy. Punisher's going to be full of grit and they're both going to be filthy, but the door is just ahead, and then there's the stairs, and rest. ]

They're gonna outlive all of us, and they know it.

[at least they're nearly there. trailing all kinds of crap inside, all over Melanie's not so nice floors...]

That's probably why they're friends with Knives...don't understand that.

[ He catches a whiff of something disgusting right before they make it through the doorway, entrails and meat. Bug blood. Gross. Guess that answers that question. ]

They both want us all dead, what's to understand?

[ Is Zazie here? That's something he'll have to look into. There's worms here, so they probably have an avatar for talking to humans with.

Hope they're not too pissed off about the dead worm. ]

You doin' okay there, pal?

[that does make sense. and he doesn't comment on the smell, not used to it, but more worried about splinting Wolfwood's leg, and making sure nothing grew back in the wrong place]

'm fine. I'm more worried bout you.

[ He'd be a lot better if he had any vials! But it's just a broken leg -- he'll live. ]

Well don't! This is nothing. I just don't want to waste a vial on somethin' so small, you know?

[ Also he's absolutely not telling Livio he doesn't have any vials. Why make him worry? ]

It'll slow me down, stop me climbin' on roofs for awhile. Stop worryin'.

But it'll keep you down, and it'll be painful.

[make no mistake, Livio doesn't mind being a crutch for a bit]

Maybe, but I'd rather you be climbing the walls than be hurt.

[ Good, because he's going to be a crutch all the way up these stairs, too. ...How the hell is he going to get up these stairs using Livio and the damn Punisher as crutches? ]

Me climbing the walls got you a hole in your guts, pal.

[someone's gonna be carried up the stairs, clearly

a shrug, a wince]

Maybe, but I've done worse with holes in my guts.

[ Pick him up and he will break something of yours, buddy. Instead, here -- he hands Punisher over. Mind carrying this? ]

That's not a reason to be so damn casual about it!

[ If Livio takes Punisher, Wolfwood can lean against the wall and make his way upstairs. It'll just be slow going. ]

It still hurts, doesn't it? I'm never gonna be good with you gettin' hurt, I don't care how fast you heal.

[he, dubiously, takes Punisher, and watches for a moment while Wolfwood tries to mosey upstairs.

he limbs along after him, even though sure, he could just breeze past him-- but Livio won't. not again.]

It does, but still...'m used to it. I'd rather me get hurt than you.

[they're both...real dumb]

[ Pain really is annoying. He's used to it by now, has been for years and years, but since he's been assigned field work he's always had a pocket full of vials. Having to walk on a busted leg is giving him flashbacks to training, and learning how to endure pain, and he's not loving it. He's sweaty and pale by the time they get to the top of the staircase, but he'll manage. He always manages. ]

And I don't... give a shit... what you'd rather.

[ A little out of breath, too. He's fine, it's fine, he just needs someplace to sit down. ]

I'm still... older'n you. Means I look out for you.

[he takes one look at Wolfwood there at the top of the stairs, where there's some light shining in, dim as it is, reflecting the shallowness of his face--

and promptly throws the other man over his shoulder]

It's my turn to look after you.

[ Oh you sonuva...! ]

Put me down!

[ He'd kick, but his leg doesn't work, so he's punching instead! Put him down, asshole! ]

I'm gonna break both your legs for this!

[nnnnnope he's just swaying, limping and jostling to get him to the kids' room...still there, right where they'd left it at children]

I'm thinking no.

[ The room isn't the same one he remembers, because of course it isn't, their worlds are different enough... but it's still familiar. It feels like he's been here before, and that's just strange. Rows of tiny beds, most only half-made, clothes and toys everywhere... at this rate, those kids are walking around in the ship barefoot, given how many socks they left behind! ]

Okay, okay, we're here, enough!

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