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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[once he realizes there's some pain, there's some discomfort, Livio does release Wolfwood immediately.

but he's smiling]

Idiot. Go to bed.

Yeah, yeah.

[ The rain outside is nearly stopped and everything's gone quiet. Maybe he will close his eyes, just for a bit. ]

We'll figure this shit out in the morning, buddy.

[sighing, he flops across the beds, dragging a blanket over him]

Yeah. It'll be alright. I know it.

[ He intends to stay awake, he really does. He was jut going to rest his eyes a minute, go over everything that's happened today. Decide what to do next.

But he closes his eyes and bam, he's out like a light. ]

[his very, very heavy eyes flicker to Wolfwood's peacefully slumbering face and, anxieties at least stowed for now, he too falls asleep soon after]

Not too far away in the grand scheme of things, the dead worm stirs.

Thunder rolls, a low and distant rumble muted by closed doors and sturdy walls, as small glowing-winged insects creep along walls and ceilings to where two battered men sleep. They're quiet, unnaturally so, their focus so absolute it has nothing to do with instinct alone, tracing the path Livio and Wolfwood took to their safe little space to sleep, the scent of their blood and sweat followed with quiet, relentless accuracy.

And outside, the walls creak as something heavy leans against them, the dim light through the windows on one side going dark before being replaced by pale glowing lines of electric blue in a slowly passing wave, whatever shape they're attached to too vast to be seen clearly through the glass. There's only darkness, and the lines, and a growing heaviness to the air.

The windows on the other side show the same lines, but these flow in a graceful curve like the edge of jaws or teeth scaled to monumental proportions. The eyes that appear, slitted like a cat's or worm's and the same sizzling blue as the lines, wink in and out as they pass one window at a time, casting their own pale, weak glow across abandoned children's beds. Searching, the black pupils widen and narrow in twitches and jerks before finding their targets and going still, three different windows framing a half dozen eyes between them, each nearly the size of a grown human and all fixed upon the two men within the building.

A small set of dice gently begin lifting off the floor, so slowly as to be easily missed at first.

Socks follow.

A discarded toy. Nothing bigger, nothing more than a tug on clothing and hair and the tingle of static for objects the size of the people.

A tiny arc of electricity jumps from one metal bedpost to another in a brief flash and crackle of ozone, and thunder reverberates through the ground and walls again, felt resonating in the chest more than heard with the ears as the scattering of worms through the building take to the air in a buzzing of wings, disappearing through any opening they can find back to freedom outside. The eyes sink downward, and the ground shakes again, the steady quiver of a burrowing thing passing by.

Dim natural light returns, the small floating objects clattering to the ground as gravity reasserts itself and the weight of atmospheric pressure lessens.

[ He's never been a heavy sleeper, but the day's been a long one, and he's snoring comfortably as the thunder outside returns, the wind -- surely it's the wind? -- causing the walls to creak and groan. The sound creeps into his dreams, sunshine-y patchwork visions of a much younger Livio crushed beneath darker memories, memories of electricity and machinery sending vibrations deep into his bones.

He tears himself out of the dream of Conrad's table with a jolt, and for a moment just stares dumbly at the ceiling of the children's room and the carnival of floating toys dancing through the air above him, unsure if he's still dreaming. Something bright moves past the windows on the far wall, bright lines on something very big, and okay, he is still dreaming.

But then the ground shakes, the distinctive earthquake of a grand worm going to ground, as gravity returns and all the trash in the air falls onto him. Shit. Not a dream!

He sits bolt upright, shaking Livio's shoulder roughly, ready to warn the other man to silence with a finger to his own lips. The worm's not dead, buddy. They may be in real trouble. ]

[he's sleeping like the dead. the dead sleep like he does, except arms crossed over their chests. he's sprawled out until the shaking starts, his world-weary brow smoothed until the lights start to dance outside. his dreams shift, expression troubled, and when he's shaken awake his eyes are narrow, hands shaped into claws--]

The fuck.

[oh, hey, Razlo]

[ Wolfwood raises his hands briefly in apology -- damn, somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed, huh? ]

Sorry, pal. [ He nods in the direction of the windows on the other side of the room, and he would already be heading in that direction if his fucking leg weren't broken. Fuck. He's gonna need crutches, what can he use for crutches? Broom handle? ] But I think our worm friend's back.

[now, it isn't as though Razlo was asleep or anything the entire time-- maybe it's like a window you can peek out of if the neighbors are being too annoying.

he doesn't know what he feels about this Wolfwood. not his. a sense of nostalgia, of course-- and grief, and regret he doesn't want to cover.

he bares his teeth]

We'll be ready for him.

[ Wolfwood regards 'Livio' with a suspicious sideeye. Woke up swearing? Grinning with way too many teeth? Something's not right here. ]

Oi, crybaby, are you feelin' okay?

[the too-wide grin turns into a frown]

Don't call my crybaby, asshole.

[ Oh, and just like that it's really damn cold in here. ]

My bad.

[ That's not Livio. ]

What should I call you then?

[he measures this Wolfwood up-- god, why are things so-- complicated]

Razlo. You can call me Razlo.

[ Razlo's me, in my head. He was born to protect me, Livio had said earlier, and Wolfwood hadn't had the slightest idea what he'd been talking about. But that's sure another person, driving around in his buddy's body!

Why are things so complicated! ]

Razlo, huh? Yeah, I've heard about you. I hear I owe you a drink.

[ If Livio trusts this guy, Wolfwood will too, but fuck this is weird! This is so weird! ]

[he raises a brow. he's surprised Wolfwood isn't...fighting this. or more perturbed or something]

I'll take you up on that if we survive this shit.

[ He's wigged the fuck out, but what can he do about it? Livio did warn him that there was another person in there... it's just fucked up that he was right. ]

The way I understand it, you can survive just about anything.

[ He nods towards Liv-- Razlo's gut. ]

Like that spear to the gut earlier.

[ Outside there's no sound other than the rain once again dying out. The grand glowworm seems to have left... unless it's lying in wait out there, biding its time unti they leave. ]

Always have.

[the worms never seemed like a regular predator like they know it-- like Earth knows it. but Razlo doesn't seem worried about any kind of sneak attack]

What of it? Livio can do that too.

Apparently so.

[ He's got so many questions! Like how the fuck is this guy in Livio's body, for starters?! ]

So you two really aren't the same person, huh? He's him and you're you?

He was born first. I came after. I'm me, and he's him.

[he doesn't really know how else to say it]

[ It's a confusing situation all around! Good thing that worm seems to have gone, because it's time for 20 questions, buddy, sorry not sorry. ]

Came from where? I mean, did somebody put you in there?

[ Livio's his brother, okay? He's worried about the big lug! ]

Can you see what he's seeing? Are you just hangin' out in the background all the time? Is he listenin' to us right now?

[yes that's true, if the world ends one cannot have conversations]

No? [trauma put him there. murder did] I was just born there-- Just came after, before the Eye, and before the orphanage.

[his brow keeps furrowing but he's tryin to be patient]

Sometimes he can, or I can if he's got the wheel. Sometimes not.

[ Good thing he's being patient, because every question he answers just raises five more questions for Wolfwood. He's focused fully on Razlo now, trying to see through Razlo to the Livio inside, watching for all the little differences in the way the two men move... and yeah, absolutely sizing Razlo up, just in case. ]

Before the orphanage? [ He clearly wasn't expecting that! ] No way. If you'd've had somebody... I mean, if you'd've been in his head all that time, I would've known!

[ Wouldn't he? ]

Edited 2023-08-14 03:38 (UTC)

I dunno, he didn't even know. Dunno about your Livio. He didn't know about me till just before we left.

[there's a meaningful look there

he doesn't want to be patient, at all, but well, this is Wolfwood...]

[ Meaningful look, meet suspicious glare! The timing there is just too convenient for Wolfwood not the ask: ]

Are you the reason he joined the Eye?

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