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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[ He's pretty sure what he's seeing is the back wall, but it's hard to tell. ]

Blame that big stupid worm! That thing voided my warranty.

[ He doesn't have his lighter anymore, but he's got some matches, swiped from the orphanage kitchen drawer -- thanks, Ms Melanie, again. He strikes one, and in the sudden flare of light, he can see the back wall clearly.

There's a really big cage against the back wall of the warehouse. It's thankfully empty, but the dried blood on the floor -- and the bucket in the far corner -- say that there was somebody in here within the last, oh, six months or so. There's a lot of dried blood, actually. More than one person died in here.

There's a set of double doors in the wall not far from the cage, an elevator, and a third door that leads to a stairwell. Wolfwood isn't checking those doors yet, though. he's still stuck at the cage, and the story that mess is telling. ]

Shit.

[the moment he sees the blood he freezes, a chill going down his spine-- it takes everything he has in him to keep moving, to break out of his full body freeze.

that's a lot of blood. people were tortured here, they died here, they were unmade here. Livio is silent for a moment, then he gently snags the sleeve of Wolfwood's jacket.]

Come on. We can't do anything standing here.

[ Not just people. This place processed new arrivals from the orphanage, right?

He yanks his sleeve roughly out of Livio's grip, but the point is made. They can't do anything for the dead, other than add to their numbers.

Fuck it.

He can't kick the double doors open with his broken leg (well, he can, but he doesn't want to), so instead Wolfwood drops the match, raises Punisher, and slams the butt of the long arm into the doors. They fly open with a crash, revealing a branching hallway that heads off in three directions. At least here there's windows at the ends of two of the corridors, where a little moonlight filters in. ]

Come out, come out, wherever you are!

[ There's no response. The place really might be deserted! ]

[it's utterly still-- and no, in case you were wondering, Wolfwood's angry response was not a surprise. he'd expected it, maybe Livio had counted down the seconds.

he lifts one of his Doublefangs, scoots into the hall, and swivels--]

Hmmm...I feel a little dumb.

[ What's it's not a shock that the hothead did something violent and rash?

Still, looks like all that sneaking was for nothing. There's nobody here! ]

Dumb nothing, I'm fuckin' disappointed. Where is everyone?!

[ Doesn't this place have emergency lights? Surely there's a switch somewhere for that kind of thing, right? C'mon, buddy, let's head down one of those corridors with a window so at least they can see where they're going. ]

How the fuck am I supposed to shoot these assholes if they aren't here!

You're disappointed you won't get shot in the ass? What'd they teach you.

[he adds dryly. granted, he wanted to cut loose too, but as far as expectations go, this isn't the worst.]

Might still be something here. We'll keep going.

[ They'll keep going. This hallway's got a couple doors on the way to the end with the window, and then once the round that bend, the whole wall is windows. It's still night out, but with the moonlight from outside it'll be a lot brighter in that part of the building. ]

They taught me how to get shot a lot, what'd you think?

[ He's laughing still, without bothering to keep his voice down anymore. If anyone's here and they want to come confront the intruders, they're welcome to it... and if anyone hears them coming and tries to scurry away, well, he's listening hard for them, too.

He flings open the first door they pass without preamble, and peers into the darkness. It's a smallish room, with a big table and a bunch of chairs. A meeting room of some kind, maybe? ]

Nothing.

[ Damn. ]

[Livio chuckles just a tad-- they taught him the same thing. how to get shot at, how to get cut, how to hurt. that's been their greatest lesson.

Livio's tense all the way down the hall, through the darkness, through the slivers of moonlight, and when there's nothing?]

.....Jeez.

[ Just that meeting room, and then offices, and a washroom, and more offices. It's a whole office building, and there's nobody here! There's the other hallway, the one that went right where they went left, and they should probably check it out just to be thorough... but if there's nothing on this side, what're the odds there's anything on the other side? ]

You know, when I heard processing facility, I was thinking more torture and less paperwork.

[ Even if there was anybody here, they'd just be clerks and secretaries, wouldn't they? Maybe they'd get lucky and find a security guard, have a half a second fight instead of no fight at all. ]

Dammit!

Edited 2023-09-18 05:04 (UTC)

Isn't torture paperwork? That's what I'd always heard. Never done any before myself.

[he's disappointed about the lack of fighting but also kind of relieved he hasn't seen anyone already dead, either.

but who does torture and paperwork within earshot of the water cooler? The eye, apparently]

[ One of these doors has to be a stairwell, right? Maybe the next floor up isn't just offices? ]

Would I rather get electrocuted for an hour or write reports for an hour. [ Honestly, it's a hard choice! ] You know, I might take gettin' zapped. At least it'd be less boring, right?

Not just electrocuted-- have those things plugged to your balls. I think I'd rather have that done.

[that'd be
not boring either, sure]

If you say so.

On my fuckin' nuts?

[ C'mon, here's a stairwell. It's got windows all up the side so at least it's not pitch black -- let's see what's on level two of this stupid place. ]

See, I was just thinkin' regular zaps, like those tomas prod things. You ever get hit with one of those shock sticks? I had an instructor who loved 'em.

I did, in the balls.

[at least he can say this breezily like commenting on the weather oh look, there's a storm a'coming--oh no, my juevos]

What the fuck?!

[ They're making enough noise as they tromp up to the second story that it's possible they miss the quiet sound of a heavy door shutting somewhere on that floor. Wolfwood sure doesn't hear it. He's too busy being traumatized at the idea of some asshole cooking Livio's scrote. ]

I hope this story's got a happy ending, where you threw that bastard off a cliff.

[he doesn't hear it either, but there's something like a creak-- that he wonders if it's the building or something else]

Oh, he's definitely deader than a doormouse or whatever. I think he was happy when I finished it.

[ It could just be the building creaking. But isn't it odd that there's all those supplies downstairs, and nobody's come in to steal them yet? You'd think that a place full of such easy to access resources -- full of so much food like the loading bay was -- would have been robbed clean by now.

Wolfwood's sure not thinking about it, though. Wolfwood's thinking about what he'd consider a sufficient punishment for some of their more torture-happy instructors.

...Actually, as he approaches the second story door, the one that'll lead from the stairwell into the building, he's thinking about something even more important. ]

What the fuck is a door mouse anyway?

[unless the reputation scared people away...but then again, people are desperate. there has to be something here.

Livio's straining his hearing as far as he can, because there's this feeling that...something's up]

A mouse?

Yeah, but what makes it a door mouse?

[ A reputation only lasts so long when people are starving though. Was this place really so hidden that nobody knew it was here? ]

Did they live in doors? How's that even possible?

[ If there is someone on this level, they're not making any noise at the moment... unless Livio can hear heartbeats through walls?

The stairwell door opens up into another hallway, this one with art on the walls and ornate light fixtures on the walls (that aren't powered on, but the fine metals and detailed designs can just be barely seen in the moonlight). Wolfwood whistles low, stepping out onto that plush carpeting. ]

Look at this fancy shit.

I...have no idea. I just know from the stories--

[the same ones they read to Wolfwood, probably.

Livio cannot hear heartbeats, things are silent as the grave. he still doesn't like it. he's nearly distracted by everything-- all this fancy shit indeed.]

....Maybe they had data meetings here? Something has to be...underground or something.

[ Almost certainly they were the same stories -- that part can't have been that different, right? Stupid tales for little kids about a world they'd never see, with feasts and strange animals and things like snow. If the plants had to tear them out of their worlds and drop them someplace random, why couldn't they have ended up someplace wetter? A green world, where food grew right out of the ground, or fell out of the sky, or however those stories went.

No point in thinking about it, though. They're make-believe stories -- they're not real. Earth's not even real, not really. Not anymore. ]

I bet you're right. [ There's nothing up here, just... he slams a door open with the butt of the Punisher, long past caring about keeping quiet. It's another meeting room, this one even plusher and shinier than the ones downstairs. Real money sat in those seats. Real money bought and sold people in here. ] This shit up here, that's for Master Chapel and the rest. The real facility's probably under our feet.

[ But if he was going to stick around in an abandoned place like this, he would want the poshest, cleanest, fanciest room he could possibly find. He'd want to be up here, you know? With a view, and all the coffee and tinned stew he could eat. He'd want...

There's a quiet click from a nearby room, the unmistakable sound of a clip being loaded into a gun. Wolfwood raises a hand -- did Livio hear it too? -- and points at the far wall. Through there. There's somebody there, somebody who's now armed.

Let's get 'em. ]

[oh, no one's told this Wolfwood about the ships, have they? he'll probably scoff, but question it.

the kind of riches in this room makes Livio sick. everyone in need in the cult, let alone in the rest of the world. it's not the exact room they'd talked through his future in, were ready to execute him in, but it's an unpleasant memory.

Livio hears the click, immediately whirls in that direction, then glances over his shoulder Wolfwood.

time to go kill 'em.]

[ Oh, no, he's heard about the Earth ships. But the planet they came from, the Earth of legend, that's the world that doesn't exist anymore. The green and wet world teeming with life, with plenty for all -- that world's destroyed. That world was nearly a ruin when the first ships were sent out... or at least, that's what the people in Vash's home ship told him. Earth used to be a paradise, but humans stripped it to nothing. There's no such thing as snow anymore, not here, not anywhere.

If Wolfwood had any vials, he'd already be through that wall. As it is, he instead raises a finger to his lips, then starts gesturing. He'll go out, and around, and smash through the wall (or door, or whatever) in the hallway. Livio, should count to five, then go through this wall here. And together... he butts his fists together. Together they'll smash him.

In the other room -- which is just a supply closet -- the security guard stands trembling, gun at the ready and listening hard to the sudden silence in the next room. He'd been left to guard the place against thieves and refugees, and the two in the next room sound much scarier than that! He's got a fresh clip in his gun, and another in his hand, and he's ready to empty the whole thing into the first person he sees. ]

[somewhere deep down Livio wants to still think it's there, that it exists. some dream, some fantasy world.

Livio nods sharply, though his mouth is pressed in a grim line. he doesn't like the thought of Wolfwood, endangered, going first, but there's no point in arguing. this is a solid plan aside from all that.

The big lug closes his eyes, takes a breath, and silently begins to count]

[ Don't worry, buddy -- he's got no interest in getting shot up today.

Livio nods in agreement, and Wolfwood starts his own mental count as he heads back out into the hall. Five -- to the door. Four -- open it quietly. Three -- step into the hall. Two -- just a couple steps to the next door down, which has to be where the target is. One -- Punisher up and ready as a battering ram.

Zero. ]

Knock knock, asshole!

[ With a swing of his arm, Wolfwood slams the butt end of Punisher into the door of the... closet? This guy's really hiding in a closet? How embarrassing! The security guard turns in a panic and immediately opens fire , and to his credit, the shots are grouped well in the doorway of the room. They spark off the end of Punisher as Wolfwood ducks back into the hall, pulling the big gun between himself and the security guard as a shield.

Okay, buddy! Wolfwood's got his attention -- your turn! ]

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