hadriel_logs | [Closed] Coming ready or not, when the motor gets hot

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[Closed] Coming ready or not, when the motor gets hot

Who: Party Poison and The Girl
What: Things have been majorly sucky, but are on the excruciatingly slow path to healing. Party and The Girl go on a little exploring trip and do a little bonding, try to get to know each other again.
Where: Outside the city
When: April 9th
Warnings: Language, possibly sensitive subjects like death, grieving and depression. Will edit as needed.

It's not been an easy couple of months. For any of them, really.

Everyone's adjusting in their own pace. The Girl and Ghoul, having been here the longest, have a little more experience with the messed up things this world has to throw at everyone. Kobra and Jet, having been here for just a month, seem to be adjusting fairly well. Party, well...he's trying.

It was a rough couple of months. It's still rough. Most days, he's not sure he wants to move at all. Often, he loses track of time, the worst being when he doesn't remember what he was doing during that time at all. Of course, he believes himself to be the worst off, a method of self victimization mixed with doubt, pouring down from the guilt that threatens to drown him on a daily basis.

But there's quiet days, sometimes.

There's a sense of normalcy on what they're doing today, that is, ironically, all too alien. But one would notice how he acts different around her. He doesn't really hide it, and, even when he did, he was bad at it. From how heavily protective and deceitfully strong as he was when she was a little girl, to the shock and rejection of when they first met here. But, as he has said, 'people don't change that much', and she's still family, she's still their runner, she's still their firecracker, she's still his atom bomb, no matter how badly his own combative brain tried to tell him she was wrong.

He's waiting for her in the kitchen this morning. Food is a thing they can spare to bring with them, water and packaged snacks shoved into a backpack. A switchblade hidden in one of its pockets for good measure. He can have a warm drink in a quiet kitchen, and it's apparently just a thing you can do.

They don't know what's out there, but it's just been a couple of weeks since an entire group of ladies ran out there for good times. It should be fine. It's just a few hours. And he misses the sun and sand. These ones will have to do.

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For all she's getting used to this place, the luxury of a roof over her head still sits strange with her. It's easy to blame it on all her time alone with nothing but the zipper of a body bag between her and the sky. Even in her sparse time with Cherri, it felt wrong to sleep without the stars blinking out their pleas. There's no shock in her waking up early, used to rising with the first orange glow of dawn.

She spent the first light of morning out in their shared hallway, trying to hear the sounds of sleep coming from the other rooms. Having her own space was the kind of thing she dreamed about once and she can't say she hates the idea of having a wall to retreat behind when her chest gets too tight. But it's quiet. She misses the noise of their closed in walls.

Girl waits there long enough for the longing in her chest to settle into something manageable. She finds the door to the room she watched Ghoul take the night before, slips the door open enough for the cat to dart in and hopes the fit he'll throw will be loud enough to carry life into the day. She takes the stairs two at a time, makes a sweep of the lower floors in that paranoid way they'd ingrained in her. She catches Party sitting in the kitchen during her rounds. Girl takes a moment to watch him before she hits the wall loud enough to announce her presence.

"You got plans?" She says after catching sight to the bag. She tries to keep any disappointment out of her voice. He's not left yet and she can remember many quite mornings with the two of them huddled over the diner's chipped bar.

He glances up from his cup, visibly pulled out of one of his long moments of silent contemplation. He hasn't really touched much of whatever he's drinking, maybe just thinking about the implications of having it in the first place.

He spends a lot of mornings alone. Sleep is rare and light, which could have been found useful back in the Zones, but was less of a causality and more of an health issue he's never had to bother to think about.

She's the one he wanted to see. He's thought about over and over how to propose this short trip, for far longer than most would probably turn over such a simple idea. But things like this don't come easy. Things with her aren't easy. There's too much feeling and too much guilt, too much regret and fear of fucking up again. You wouldn't think you'd see Party poison faltering so bad with someone he's known since they were such a tiny child.

"Yeah, huh..." He sets his eyes on the backpack lying on the counter, taking a pause to his words. He takes those a lot. Sometimes, thinking and words take a while. It's kind of frustrated. But still, his voice is quiet and soft, not a tone a lot of people get to hear. "Thinkin' about goin' out there. Out the walls." The metaphorical ones.

He idly moves one of the straps, just a way of fidgeting, doing something with his hands. "Grabbed a bike. One of those shield ones. Think it goes."

Some more fidgeting with the strap, his eyes low, before he simply drops it on the counter and grabs hold of his mug again, with all the fake casualty of someone who's talking about the weather while proposing the biggest deal of their life. "Thinkin' maybe we, huh..." A sentence he leaves unfinished, pointed with a half shrug and an evasive sip of whatever's in the mug.

She stays in the doorframe, watching for the light to come in his eyes from wherever he drifted. This too Girl feels used to. For all they categorize Party as loud and bombastic, she'd been there in the quiet moments. Sometimes the expanse of the desert left its wandering souls with nothing to do but think. She just hopes whatever path his thoughts are taking is a kind one.

She supposes he can't have wandered someplace too terrible; he doesn't look upset, though she wouldn't call him happy either. It's peaceful for now, at least, and that much Girl can handle. It's all about small steps.

"Explorin'?" She tilts her voice enough at the end to make it a question, even the hope she had for the morning dies. Another day of Party away and the tension of the house being off, a guitar strung just a hair too loose to produce the right notes. She shouldn't be upset, can't be. She's the one who told him they'd all be there waiting. There was an implication in that, there was a need for time before things could slot back into place. But she's still that needy five-year-old at heart and she tries to hide the disappoint by searching the cabinets.

"They ought to work. Seems like a lotta folks were takin' bikes a few weeks back. Should be fine, as long as the fake gods haven't stolen their juice." Open one cabinet, stare for a few moments, close it and move on to the next. She's not hungry; she ate last night and multiple meals a day still feels extravagant in a way that makes her twitchy. Girl just wants to be busy so she looks like she's handling things more maturely than she is.

She turns as he falters, hand still hanging off the cabinet door. She can't mask the flashes across her face, confusion melting into a bright smile that she tries -fails- to bite down. "You was thinkin' you wanted an extra eye out there?"

" Yeah." He takes a sip of the drink he attempted to make earlier - a failed attempt, it seems, by the way he wrinkles his nose when he tastes it - eyes keeping low in a way too coy for a stranger to recognize.

It's an attempt. For all that his brain spins and twists and turns and shouts all the time, relativity is important. He feels relatively calm. His mind isn't blank, but he's not losing himself and time into blankness, he found something to do, and someone he wants to join him. He just wants to feel like he's a person again, and, surprisingly, he wants to share that attempt with someone he cares about.

Besides, they could probably use the fresh air, despite how wrong it is.

"If you want to."

It's the little breakthrough she's been waiting for. Patience is the kind of virtue she never really learned, even if she'd promised to let him have time. She shuts the cabinet and twists around to lean against the countertop. There's a childish excitement on her face, present in the little hop as she settles. She always blossoms under attention like this. Like a puppy finally given the chance to play. "Yeah," she echoes, upbeat.

The idea that she may not want to is laughable, given the mounting evidence of how pleased she is. Girl rubs at her face to hide the urge to snort. She shakes her head, tries not to roll her eyes.

"Since when was I sayin' no to a ride with you?" How often had she jumped at a chance to do anything with him? There's the small pinprick hurt under Girl's excitement. She didn't want to consider things are fragile enough he actually thought she'd deny him. That she needs to reassure him. "'bout time someone bucked up and let me see what was out there. Should of known you'd be the one to have the guts."

She'll learn that when it comes to their family, to more personal and emotional things, the only context in which he might be feeling vulnerable, he needs more reassurance than he lets on. But more than her words, it's the look on her face that gets to him. Much like when they first met in Hadriel, he sees it in flashes - the face of that little girl that was always happy to do anything with her family. It makes his chest feel...warm. In a nice way.

He huffs, amused, taking another sip of his coffee to hide the shadow of a smirk, adverting his eyes for a moment. But he soon sets the cup back down, stands up and grabs the bag.

"Grab yer stuff. Anythin' you want." Maybe she has food she prefers, maybe she has weapons he doesn't know. It's their day now, and they can take as long as they want. "Got the bike out back."

She gives him the courtesy of a brief smile and a nod before she takes off out of the room, skidding back in a second later. "Gimme two shakes."

Girl doesn't take long; her backpack is already packed with the few non-edible things she's picked up from her stay here, always at the ready in case they needed to move quick. She's back down the stairs in record time, remembering to quiet her footfalls for their sleeping housemates sake a few seconds too late. It's still rather obvious from the noise that she runs all the way to the kitchen door.

She still walks in a picture of poise, pretending he couldn't her the ruckus of her heavy boots. She walks to the sink calmly, makes sure a canteen is filled before turning to Party with an expectant look. "Ready whenever you are."

That a girl. He's fussing about in the kitchen for the brief momento she's gone, looking towards the door when he hears her heavy footfalls. It's subtle, but it makes him smirk for once, amused and...appreciative? Something about her excitement - something, but not that big of a mystery - amuses him. One could even go as far as to say it delights him.

But he hides it when she comes back. No reason for it except his own personality and emotional constipation. He pulls his own backpack off the table, light and mostly empty, but that's all he needs. "C'mon."

He moves towards the door that leads out of the kitchen, before he suddenly stops. "Huh--" He twists his nose a little, in thought. "You wanna bring the, huh, the fuzzy dude?"

She stuffs the canteen into her back, hitching it high up on her shoulders. She smiles at his back. A weight's been lifted from her shoulders. It might end up being a temporary thing, in fact that's what she's counting on. Moods are fickle things. But she can ride the highs while she can and leave the lows for later.

Girl stops as he does, momentarily worried he's calling off the event before they even touch the dust. "What? The cat?" She laughs under her breath. "I stuck 'im with Ghoul. Kinda thought I'd be hearin' Ghoul go off by now. But you know, cat'd be okay for a while 'round here. If you were just thinkin' it should be you and me."

Moods are fickle things and Party has many. All of the time. Always did. Gets him weird looks sometimes, but that's just one of his very particular things, and they all have something. It's just the dynamic of their weird little family.

He snorts quietly, knowing full well how Ghoul acts around the cat. "They gonna have a clap..." And hes going to laugh in Ghoul's face when he loses.

But, back to their plan. He steps out the back door and down to steps, towards the bike he very much stole - does it count as stealing? He didn't really see anyone guarding them - checking for...something. Anything? Just out of habit.

"This'll do." Mumbling to himself. As he keeps checking, he mumbles to her, eyes on the bike. "Way you wanna go?"

Her grin widens. "I know. I was gonna give him shit 'bout gettin' beat up by something even tinier that him but I guess I'll just have to hope someone else does it. 'sides, they got to learn to get along."

She follows him out to the bike, taking a long moment to admire the machine. It's been too long since she's been around any real mode of transportation. She misses the speed, the feeling of whipping air. Just thinking about being on the road again eases a tension she didn't know she had.

"East," she says without taking more than a second to think. The direction of the sunrise, the road that had led away from the City. "Keep the suns at our backs and out of our eyes. It's as good a way as any to start."

That feeling of freedom - they match. Something about just having the chance to travel real far, real fast, makes his chest feel a little less tight at times. Even despite the uselessness of it all, even if he might just drop dead or feel shit that wasn't there if the godshits feel like it.

It's a mirage, a simulation. But, christ, let him have something.

He looks towards the sunrise, thinking about her choice. He grunts, interested, answers as hops up onto the bike and pulls his shades out from his jacket.

"Sounds good."

Girl smiles, part of her pleased that he agrees with her. It doesn't really matter to her where they go, but she likes to feel useful. She nods slightly. "Cool."

She takes a deep breath and takes a last look back toward the town. She mounts the bike behind him, adjusting her backpack before grabbing the back of his jacket. She sits a little stiffer, a little farther back than she would have years ago. She's still aware of the tension between them. With it finally lessening, she doesn't want to push her luck.

"Let's go."

He pops his shades on, for a moment confused about why her grip is so faint. There's tension between them, sure, but he last thing he wants is for her to get hurt because he's an idiot with social issue.

" 'Ey." He turns his head, uselessly trying to see. He pauses, though, unsure for a second. "...y' gonna fall off."

They can do this. He can do this. This'll be a good day. Or something akin to it, anyway.

She hopes he can't see her face from the odd angle. Girl can feel the embarrassment creeping up her neck. She was trying to prevent things from getting awkward and she only make it weirder. This should be the easy part and she hates how long it's taking for her to find the right groove again.

"Yeah," Girl mutters under her breath. She feels like she should apologize but she thinks that will only draw more attention. She adjusts her grip, moving an arm around his stomach until she's secure. "We can go. I'm not gonna get bucked off. Been 'round these things forever."

The faster they put the town behind them, the faster Girl thinks the tension will fade. A change of scenery is all they need.

She's lucky in one aspect, which is Party's inability to call out most awkward moments, the more personal they are. He thinks, he thinks of many reasons and raises many questions about his head, several dozens of possible examples of why this might be a bad idea, of how she's not feeling it, about how it's his fault. He doesn't see her face, but doesn't show his own, and at least they can pretend to not notice the awkwardness of the moment.

Good lord, how do you skip to the good part?

He reels his mind back,makes his voice normal. It's cool, he's cool.

"Hold on."

And off they go, into unknown desert, a breath of hot hair to make things better.

She finds her breath when he turns back to the road ahead. She doesn't know how she could handle it if he pressed the issue. Just thinking about it makes her stomach twist and squirm. Part of her still wonders if it would be a good thing, to finally excise this bitter thing growing between them.

Maybe it's a mark of cowardice that she can't find the courage to find out.

But she'd never claimed bravery. And she feels calmer when they start into the desert without another word.

"Almost like four out here," she shouts against the wind, trying to push things back to a better place.

If it's a mark of cowardice, it's one they share. One of the many things they share, more than he notices. If he did, he'd question if it was his hand that put them there, and it wouldn't make him feel any better.

"Close enough." He shouts back, figuring out what path to take to best avoid the city streets on their way out. Plenty of open space to do so.

"You gone out there?"

"Plenty of times." Her voice sounds funny, being swallowed up by the rushing wind. She likes how loud it is. The roar's almost enough to fill up her head and keep her thoughts from screaming at her. "I've been all over the Zones. Mostly stuck to one and two though."

She follows up with a halfhearted shrug. She went where she thought it was safe, when D and the other DJs said it was safe. But she kept circling back close to home.

"I liked it. Less traffic the further out you go."

There's a feeling in his stomach - maybe his chest? - that he can't quite name. It's there often, it's been so much louder in the last few months. It's mutated, grown, and it threatens to burst out and take his insides with it.

He meant the desert outside of Hadriel, but the misunderstanding brought on thought of ~~their girl, his girl~~ her wondering the Zones alone. Maybe with other runners, maybe with friends, he wouldn't know, none of them would know, and, by all accounts that meant she was alone.

There's many ways to be alone. The most painful ones are too specific, too hard to talk about.

It's a couple of seconds before he talks again, shouting against the wind and over the motor. "You ever ride?"

She lets the silence sink in. For a moment, she wonders if she's said something wrong. Maybe he doesn't want to talk about how things are now, back home. Maybe talking about the state of the future, even in the smallest ways, is a little cruel. It's not a world he'd get to see, an unkind reminder.

But there's a part of her wants to talk about it. Girl had spent too many moments cataloging the little things she'd tell them if they were still around. Sunrises from the tops of mesas out in four, music she'd caught snatches of on the radio. The mundane parts of life she missed sharing with someone else.

Things she can't find the comfort in even saying now. Not when she feels their conversations are so loaded.

"No," she breathes out and then says again, louder. "Haven't been in years. Couldn't raise the credits for one of my own and didn't trust anybody else's wheels."

He doesn't like talking about time. It's always been such an odd presence in his life, there, in the background, him knowing it exists but ignoring it all the same. He often even debated how long he'd get to have it follow him, but to have the chance to see it taken away from him was a surprising cruelty. He might have expected it, but he wasn't as prepared as he always believed himself to be.

One day, they'll talk about it. They'll work up to it, and she'll be able to bring him up to speed. They'll catch up, all the way from their different places.

He hums at her response, though she clearly can't hear it. Smart girl. Pitty she never did, but at least she knows how to keep her bones in one piece. "Ever wan'ed to learn?"

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[Closed] Coming ready or not, when the motor gets hot

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a lot of words to say that he's an awkward motherfucker

he requires a proclamation for every mood

pretty much!

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