10
[Filtered from Vicious and Lin/Unhackable]
Would anyone happen to know if Lux has an open gig for an experienced musician?
[Backdated to late morning on 5/4, if you please. Unless otherwise noted, Julia's following comments are similarly filtered and unhackable. Action for Gren, in her apartment; the usual for anybody else.]
Would anyone happen to know if Lux has an open gig for an experienced musician?
[Backdated to late morning on 5/4, if you please. Unless otherwise noted, Julia's following comments are similarly filtered and unhackable. Action for Gren, in her apartment; the usual for anybody else.]
"What's Vicious like? Here, I mean."
Julia knows he had... feelings for Vicious, mixed as they were, misguided as they were. The photos on his wall were proof enough of that two years ago and the picture of the two of them on Titan -- that often ripped-apart and taped-back-together trench photo -- sitting in his sax case right now is further proof that all of his feelings are so unresolved. If Vicious inspires that in him after everything that happened, he can't fault Lin for being protective.
Yes, it was Lin's choice to take the bullet, but it doesn't erase the fact that he's the one who pulled the trigger with intent. He thinks back to long ago: Sunday school, Sister Mary Alice, he thinks, although they all looked alike in their stern black-and-white habits.
And what is the definition of Hell? Anyone? Grencia, how about you?
It's... the place you get sent to if you've been bad. Where you have to face your sins in person every day until the final judgment.
This place is starting to sound familiar.
Reply
When she does turn to look at him, she doesn't make quite the usual effort to keep her walls up.
"If you catch him during the right curse, you can almost believe he still has feelings buried away."
In some ways, it's a warning. But it's also the truth, and it's shocked her in the moment and saddened her after the fact and unsettled her more often than she'd care to admit in the month that she's been here.
"If you don't," she goes on, her tone even, "he's fixated, cruel, and even less rational than he used to be."
Reply
Not really, but it's as reasonable a thing as any to say. The smoke veils her face; he takes a moment to think how weird it is that he and Julia are friends. They met over a song, had a cup of coffee together, and found out they had a lot more in common than just the lilting strains of Goodnight, Julia.
It feels like it happened an impossibly long time ago. It feels like it was just yesterday. And again it's both and it's neither.
"Are we dead?" When he puts his fingers to his wrist, he's pretty sure he can feel the faintest of pulses beating there, but it might be wishful thinking.
"I know. I saved all the easy questions for last."
Reply
It fades, but... slowly.
"If we aren't, we should be." She glances away, but after just a second she lets her eyes find his again. "But I still seem to do everything I always did. And I don't drink blood by night and don't shuffle around craving brains or flesh."
Which, as she's discovering here, is more possible than she'd have believed.
"Besides that, my survival instinct is as healthy as ever. When there's gunfire, I still take cover and draw if I haven't already."
Reply
"Then it's a good thing I packed an extra pistol. I'll have to start carrying it all the time." In Blue Crow he didn't; his heavy sax case made for an effective weapon all by itself. In fact, he used it more than once.
He's very good at fending people off. Prison taught him how.
"And I guess what they say is true: misery loves company. We can be dead or not dead together. It's better than being stuck doing either one alone." There's a moment where he's absolutely flushed with gratitude for her, for everything she's done, for everything she's continuing to do: he's got such a fondness for her.
He always has.
"I wonder if I can still play." Gently, he tests that spot he bandaged yesterday: it doesn't really hurt and it hasn't bled any more.
Reply
She almost doesn't want to interrupt his train of thought if it's going to lead to him satisfying himself that he can still play his saxophone as well as he always could -- she knows that'll be a comfort -- but... the curiosity tugs at her too strongly.
"Could... I ask you something first?"
Reply
"You can ask me anything. Any time."
He means it, too: Julia's one of the few people for whom he'd stop and do anything.
Reply
"How did you end up meeting Spike?"
Gren had a bounty on his head. It'd be quite a coincidence if Spike had tried to collect on that, but it's no bigger than the coincidence that led to her becoming friends with Gren.
Reply
That.
As he gathers together the memories -- they're recent and really strong -- he lets his fingers form a steeple. There's something comforting in the motion, in the shape, and he studies it as he speaks.
"He was on Callisto looking for you." He's surprised Spike hasn't told her. Then again, maybe it was a long time ago for him. "We made a little bit of noise on the rooftop. Vicious planted a bomb in with the money for the red-eye... you do know about this, don't you?"
It isn't like he's had a chance to tell her, and she wasn't there.
Reply
"He was looking for me?"
On Callisto? Within the past year? She... wouldn't have guessed. Did he hear that she'd been there? How did he find out?
"We haven't all been sharing stories since we got here," she tells him mildly, reaching for her ash tray and resting it on one of her folded legs. "But I've puzzled a few things out."
Maybe the biggest hint was the vial of red-eye that made an appearance last night. A red-eye deal was a good way to lure Vicious, but... she wishes he hadn't done it.
The worst case scenario obviously happened.
Reply
The crash. The injury. His conversation with Spike -- about her -- and the way Spike helped him on his way. All the pieces are there, all the details now laid out end to end. "Does it make sense now? The only reason I said anything about you at all was because..."
This isn't easy. He feels badly enough about everything that happened.
"...because of what you'd told me about Spike. Otherwise, I wouldn't even have given him your name, even though he asked for you first. Said Gren, tell me where Julia is. I've got to find her. Just that way."
He'd pay dearly now for a glass of that vodka they shared last night, but he doesn't have it and can't use it as the distraction he wants. The story has to be finished.
"You know what? The very last thing I said before..." He shrugs. Before he died; she'll probably be able to fill in the blanks. "...was about how beautiful your smile is."
He's glad for that, even though it makes him want to cry.
Reply
She can't help the look of surprise on her face when he tells her what Spike said to him, and before her expression has a chance to return to normal, he confesses talking about her smile before he died.
It's just... she almost doesn't know what to do with that knowledge. Any of it.
After a long moment she reaches over, eyes soft, and quietly pushes some of his hair back over his shoulder. "Thank you for telling me."
She offers him what's probably the most tentative smile she's given anybody in years, but it's utterly genuine in its warmth. She doesn't think she could tell him how much the knowledge means to her, and she's not going to try.
"Do you... want to try your sax now? If you feel up to it, we could go to lunch after."
Reply
He'll play for her as long as she wants: it's the least he can do in exchange for all her kindness. As soon as he finds a job he'll get his own place and then he won't be in her way but for now -- until he has to leave -- he's really glad to be here with Julia.
Before he gets up, he reaches over and sandwiches her hand between his own. It's just a gesture and it doesn't last very long, but it's the way he has of saying thanks.
And then he stands and opens up that sax case and sets all the extra stuff aside, puts the horn together, picks out a new reed, and turns to her with a little smile.
"I hear I might know a song you like."
Reply
She slides it out of the pack, glancing up with the tiniest smirk of a smile on her lips. "I won't deny that I have my favorites."
The song he plays for her is one she hasn't heard since she last saw him, and by now she probably shouldn't still be as fond of it as she is. All the same, it still makes her smile -- if a little sadly -- because it reminds her of some of the happiest days of her life.
He's more than earned being treated to lunch by the time the music stops.
Reply
Leave a comment