And all the green belts wrapped around our minds

[blackmagus]

Who: Fortescue & you
Where: House 15, the bar (or anywhere in town, really).
When: Day 111
What: She's used to living by herself. Too used to it.

Jazz wakes her up, just as light's beginning to shine through the window; he paws at her arm, and for one surreal moment it feels like she's in a much larger bed — in a much draftier house. But then Fortescue opens her eyes, and the illusion shatters. Not fast enough, in her mind. She can still hear the distant sound of airships, the sound of her computer switching on to display the latest news of the war.

Here, it's dead quiet. She hears nothing other than her cat's agitated purring, as he tries to burrow underneath the covers with her. Fortescue watches his unsuccessful attempts for a few minutes. It's hard to believe that, eleven or so years ago, Jazz was a hardened alley cat who had to be collected from the streets by hard men wearing gloves. He'd spitted and hissed and clawed everything in reach. Now? He's grumpy because she won't share her warmth. She chuckles and gets up, leaving him to take her spot. She won't tease him today. Not when, a day before, he was clinging to her and confused on account of the earthquake.

Fortescue only has a few bruises, and a splinter she can't dig out. Not too much is out of place, the previous day being spent shifting things back into place and surveying for immediate damage to the house. She'd gone to bed with a vicious headache from using so much magic, and mercifully she hadn't woken up with it.

This is the fourth day of Dilandau being gone. It's strange, not having him around — and she'd never thought that would be the case. She's lived by herself for eleven years. And yet, she'd acclimated to his presence with a strange quickness. Sure, they needled each other. Sure, he was irritating. And sure, sometimes she wanted to throw him out a window. But somewhere along the line she'd started thinking about him as an annoying little brother, and they still don't know what happens when people are taken. (Are they tortured? Opened up, put back together?) Memory modifications provide few answers. His disappearance right from under her nose is especially unnerving to a woman trained in stealth.

The house that isn't, and is, theirs is nothing like the sleek and old lines of Blacksing, the manor the government is nice enough to practically imprison her in. House 15 has a vague family feel to what's left of it. Whether that's correct or not, it's carpet and softness where Blacksing is hard wood and stone. The differences both soothe and aggravate her nerves, and the return of a reliable network and power, oddly, don't help.

She spends the morning attempting to dig the damn splinter out of her right index finger (and cuddling her still-agitated cat), before giving up and going back to work on the roof. The patch job is nothing fancy, just applications of pieces of tarp, tar, a few loose roofing tiles, and nails. But by the time she's finished, she's ready for anything else. Sitting still on the roof, she can almost hear the noise of airship engines and the yells of frightened but resolved soldiers. (Is there anywhere that she isn't trapped?)

Jazz pads unusually close as she ventures out in the direction of the bar. A drink is desperately needed. Solace, however she can find it. Blacksing is far away from here, and it doesn't feel far enough. It shouldn't be able to taunt her with her promise, the promise she can't fulfill here, and yet it is.

Comments

[purplishgreen]

Finding anything to drink in the bar is perhaps a vain hope, but Shiala, today, wants to try. She slips inside, moving quietly, but she sees a familiar face, and that's worth a lot in a place like this: a face that's both familiar and friendly.

She slides into a seat at the counter, offering a smile.

"Some things are universal, even between species."

[blackmagus]

"Seems so," Fortescue agrees, smiling back. She's had enough drinks with elves to know that a stiff drink is enjoyable to most creatures. Ones who drink to begin with, of course. Though right now, the most she's had is a shot. Might as well make the most of a small amount, and she's feeling far too paranoid to get to falling-down-drunk. Isn't she?

Well, she'll find out.

"How are you? After yesterday's... excitement."

[purplishgreen]

"Unhurt. I suppose that is all I can ask for." Shiala shakes her head. She's lived through worst, and she can ask for no more than this, she has to suppose. "I have my doubts about the construction of this village."

If she knew much about architecture, she might have better ideas, but she isn't, and she doesn't.

"What of yourself? You seem well."

[blackmagus]

Fortescue considers. The loss of one building and the cracks in many others is suspicious, in her mind. "If I were a betting sort of person — and I only gamble after a few drinks — I'd bet these buildings have been through quite a lot, before now. I wouldn't blame it entirely on them."

And if these buildings hadn't been built to withstand earthquakes, that was one more point toward their construction.

[purplishgreen]

She thinks of the ruins of Feros, and how much they must have been through before human researchers and colonists made their homes in decayed skyscrapers, but she decides to say nothing on that. The architecture of the protheans was hardly on the same scale as this tiny village.

"There are companies that make modules for colonisation. Purchase some housing modules, some kitchen modules, some research modules, and you have a colony. They are small, and basic, and at one point I thought them... less than ideal. Not that I would have complained," she adds. "The Zhu's Hope colonists did not have to let me stay. Still, they seemed to hold up to a great deal. I wouldn't mind a dozen units here for us, now."

[blackmagus]

"I'm sure I wouldn't, either. Though at least I only had to patch a few leaks, at least." With recent knowledge assembled from the diner's construction, but they would hold. Hopefully. She smiles, wondering, "And what would your ideal conditions be?"

[purplishgreen]

"Thessia is rather beautiful, but I'm biased. I'm sure most species prefer their home planet."

Shiala sighs a little, though not entirely unhappily. "I would settle for a comfortable room with a very nice bed, and a good view. And maybe someone to share it with."

It's... been a little while, after all.

[tryingitall]

Balthazar still visits the bar frequently. It's not quite as steady a haunt now as it was before Ellen laid claim to it; not that he begrudges her the space, but he doesn't want to wear out his welcome. Today he dropped off a load of hardwood ash, made a mournful comment on the death of the still, and opted to drink tea in the corner just to be out of his own place for a while.

When he sees Fortescue, he straightens and gives a brief wave to catch her eye. She looks more melancholy than he's used to seeing her, and that makes him concerned.

[blackmagus]

She's drawn out of her thoughts at the wave. Pleasantly, considering their contents, and she smiles, wandering over to the corner. Jazz is a black blur beside and in front of her, streaking to sit under the table.

"Guten tag. I see the bar made it out in one piece, mostly."

Fortescue's reasonably certain that everyone would have pitched in to get it back up, in no time — it is the bar, after all, even if its supply is getting quite low. But that doesn't seem to be necessary.

[tryingitall]

"Mostly," he concedes. "But I don't think the still survived, so we may be down to the last of our alcohol, at least for some time."

He leans over to peer at the cat beneath the table. "I see you made it through the crisis in once piece. That's good." And straightening again, he smiles at Fortescue. "And you as well. Can I get you some tea?"

[blackmagus]

Fortescue sighs. It's almost inaudible, but a sigh nonetheless. There are so few pleasing distractions here, and now they're down one more. Fortescue's certain that her psych evaluator and occasional enforced therapist would be pleased by the news of the still.

But there's tea. That's something. She's Imperian; tea is important.

"I'd love some, if there's enough." Jazz mews quietly, and she chuckles. "He'd never admit it, but the earthquake rattled him."

[tryingitall]

"It's mostly herbal, but yes, there's plenty." He rises and gives her a gentle half-hug before detaching to go put the kettle back on. "Enough to share with the cat, if he wants."

Do cats like peppermint? He's not sure.

"I found some water crackers, too, if you want. Nothing that special, but with a dot of honey they're not bad. How've you been holding up, then?"

[blackmagus]

"He likes tea with milk. But I think that's just because of the milk, not the tea part," she comments, smiling at the hug. "He knicks fish, too, any bits he can find, but that's fairly normal for a cat."

Bacon is undoubtedly his favorite, but if any materializes in the Cape she doubts she'd be willing to share it.

While Balthazar puts the kettle on, Fortescue goes back to attempting to dig the splinter out of her finger. "I've been repairing my roof, mostly. All the furniture's back where it's supposed to be. There wasn't any Buttercup to do any complaining about that part."

[godsprophet]

Chuck frequents the bar fairly regularly. He wouldn't call himself an alcoholic, not really, but he (sort of, kind of, ???) knows Ellen, and somewhere along the line, he's become a regular customer.

When he walks into the bar now, it's mostly to make sure that everyone and everything came out alright. He's glad to see the bar is still in one piece, because he knows how pissed Ellen would be if it were otherwise.

And, well, since he's already here, he figures he might as well get a drink. He walks in, catches sight of Fortescue, and makes his way over.

"Glad to see you made it out alright."

[blackmagus]

Fortescue glances up from where her eyes were boring into the wooden counter, smiling. Jazz is curled at her feet, against the wood, looking surprisingly dirty and tired. Catnip will do that. In fact, he's all but asleep.

"Nothing that a few nights of sleep can't fix," she acknowledges. "And yourself?"

[godsprophet]

Chuck did, in fact, notice the cat curled up at her feet, glancing at it before turning his gaze back to Fortescue and returning the smile.

"Same. Thankfully. I, uh, wasn't aware Kore could get earthquakes but, uh. I guess we can."

[blackmagus]

"It doesn't seem to be suited for it, geographically speaking. And yet, it proved that wrong, somehow," she notes, wry. She glances at the nearest camera. "If it was an earthquake."

[godsprophet]

Chuck furrows his eyebrows together in confusion, glancing at the camera when Fortescue does.

"If it wasn't an earthquake, then... what was it?"

[blackmagus]

"I don't know." Fortescue shrugs lightly. "There are a number of devices back home that could create tremors of that force, but the signs don't quite add up for them. Not that I've been through a lot of earthquakes, mind you, but it didn't seem all that natural to me."

[bluesrat]

For a while now, Rat's been quiet, mostly sticking to the house with Chuck and the angels. Now that he's got a couch to crash on, he's making full use of it. A large part of this is he's been recovering from an unexplained absence. Physically, he's healed, but psychologically he's feeling a little jumpy still, and struggling not to show it.

Being welcomed to the bar by Ellen has helped, though. He comes there with his guitar fairly regularly, to sing and play whether he has an audience or not. He's pleased to see a familiar face, though. Since the earthquake the other day, things feel more unstable than ever.

"Hey there. Been a while."

[blackmagus]

"Tracy!"

Fortescue smiles, equally pleased to see Rat. She'd been half fearing that the scientists had taken him once more. It's good to see that her fears were, for once, completely paranoid. ...for the moment, at least.

She wanders over in his direction, Jazz stopping to sniff at a twig that's found its way to the floor.

"It's good to see you, love. How are you?"

[bluesrat]

The abduction left him feeling rough, but he's making an effort to go on as if it never happened, at least externally. The warm greeting extracts a returning smile. Fortescue is one of his favorite people around here, and he's got a little grin for the cat, too. "Still in one piece, and getting better sleep than I'm used to, so no complaints. How are you holding up?"

[blackmagus]

"Oh—" Fortescue shrugs her shoulders lightly, as if to say, what can you do? "Fine, I suppose, when all's taken into account."

It's sort of a lie, given what's driven her to come and take shelter in the bar, but she delivers it casually and easily enough.

"I'm glad to hear you've been getting a good amount of sleep."

[bluesrat]

"Oh... well, it's softer than I'm used to, I guess. I'm feeling better." His expression says he's not sure he's buying that she's fine, though. Rat crouches to pet Jazz briefly. "Good to see you two survived the earthquake okay..."

[blackmagus]

"Just a few bruises from an excited bookcase. Nothing serious." She feels silly about them, but the earthquake had taken her completely by surprise and so had the furniture. Earthquakes don't happen very often in Imperium. "Fuzzball there wailed for an hour after."