02 | Accidental Visual/Location: Gwen's House | I Can't Reach You Anymore
Gwen currently has the privilege of experiencing for herself the Tablet's ability to turn on and off without provocation. So when the screen flickers on, viewers get just a glimpse--curly brown hair and a shoulder--before the Tablet is unceremoniously knocked off its pedestal and the view changes abruptly, now looking up at her instead of down.
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Everyone has their story, but it doesn't mean Gwen's isn't confusing.
"Tumbleweed," The word just blurts out now, as natural as any of his other colloquialisms. "What exactly are you looking for?" Because he doesn't know there's glitches and he likes to think he can sort of read Gwen, and he's not an idiot. When the glove goes off, Gwen's electrifying. Literally.
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But since she can't ever just answer a question seriously, she replies with a touch of exasperation, "My favorite pair of pants." Her mouth twists into the mockery of a smile, one that isn't very humorous. "Seen 'em?"
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He slips back into his car, slipping the bandanna from his neck and putting it over his face again. Hurrah for broken noses and how ugly and swelled they look while healing.
"Hate to break it to you, Gwen," this is the first time he thinks he's actually said her real name and it tastes weird to him. "But I'm wearing them right now."
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"Not that red isn't your color, but I think they'd look better on me." She puts a hand on her hip and makes her way to the Tablet. The feel of her actual skin on her hand makes her remember the glove's off. Inwardly, she groans, but she doesn't move to find it. Like she even could in this mess. "Don't tell me the whole city just witnessed a free show?" she asks, dreading the answer. She folds her arms, tucking the bare one underneath the other.
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"Uuh..." And he realizes he has to say something, so he scratches his cheek idly, biting on his lip. "The, uh.. Whole city just saw that." And, quickly: "So I wasn't like, spying on you or anything."
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And the fact that this thing can turn on whenever it wants to? Creepy as hell. "Good to know," she answers, dialing back on the anger a bit. "Because if you were, I'd have to kick your ass." True story, but Gwen has a feeling Party Boy here isn't actually the creeping type. But it looks like Taxon isn't giving its prisoners a choice, what with the camera following them around and doing what it wants.
"So, Big Brother's watching? I feel so warm and fuzzy inside." She hardly manages to contain a shiver, and wonders if throwing it in the panic room and never letting it look at her again would send a pretty good message to the green men upstairs.
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"Big Brother's always watching. You know? The tablets, the bracelets." He pauses, glancing at a few passing Extras, and then leans in to the tablet. Whispering. Because that's what you did when you had a plan you were 90% sure on.
"I think they're in disguise," He jerked his head in the direction of the windows. "Waiting. I don't know for what."
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"If they are? I can't wait 'til they make an appearance," she says, her voice firm and tired.
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He cuts himself off, because now would normally be the time Ghoul smacks him in the back of the head and tells him to shut up. "The point is, when they do come down? I'm going to be ready and I'm going to try to nab one."
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Gwen's current train of thought distracts her entirely from what Party is rambling on about. She's barely even listens after he speaks the first three words. Something about hamsters and reality shows. Geez, he was extra conspiratorial today. He finally cuts himself off and her mind returns to the present, though she still looks considerably distracted.
"Nab a hologram?" she asks, confusedly, and clearly that not-listening jig is up.
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"If not maybe you can short-circuit whatever they're using to project it. Just piss them off. Show them we're not gonna take any of this shit lying down, right, Tumbleweed? I want answers and they're gonna give them to me." There's a threatening tone to his voice, a dangerous bite. When Party means business, he means business.
"Maybe we can get whatever you're looking for," he says carefully. Because Party's also not stupid--Gwen's jokes are also a front and she's definitely not looking for her favourite pair of pants. Her temper's all wrong for it and Party knows tempers, between him and his brother. She looks good but she's not a girly fashionista and no one gets that upset over clothes.
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When he suggests finding LISA, her jaw sets. It took her years to find her, years of rumors and plans until finally it went into production and she could get her hands on what she deserved. If it isn't here, and it isn't on her skin, then it's gone. She doesn't even know if it would work here. It does't matter. "I don't think they sell those here, Party," she says, and her voice is serious and laced with disappointment.
But don't think she would stop looking for a second.
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"All I know is that the weight of my zapper feels right and if I close my eyes I can picture all of us huddled in the car waiting for Dr. Death-Defying's traffic report. That's how good they are. All the chemicals and matter and bullshit science stuff..."
He waved his hands, now, tugging his bandanna off and revealing the nasty swelling that constitutes for an injury.
"They can get anything. Even from the molecular structure, or... Whatever." Because he never pays attention to Jet Star's physics bullshit. "So we're gonna get whatever it is back for you."
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But high hopes let to disappointments, and Gwen is no stranger to that phenomenon. So she simply says, "Maybe," and that's that. But if the torn up house around her is any indication? She doesn't plan on giving up any time soon.
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"You want it, you gotta fight for it. You know how it is," Because he has a feeling she does. "Claw and bite and kick and scream until you make something happen, until you start something. A revolution, a change. The ability to get people to listen to you, or give you...whatever." His hands are thrown up for emphasis, idealism through and through.
"You don't just say 'maybe' and keep your head down like a junkpunk ritalin rat, like a stupid wavehead who's so hopped on nitro and drugs and hypocrisy he can't function on all cycles. You hit the gas and you go for it, kill 'em all until you're the only one left."
He pauses to catch his breath, and, carefully, his tone softens. "We'll get it." Because this isn't just about Gwen's unnamed thing. It's about fighting Taxon.
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She doesn't know why or what it is, but she gets angry. Maybe it's because she feels like she lost something and had the hope of it dangled in her face like a string. Maybe it's because Party's doubting her drive, and the strength of her motivations. Maybe it's because he can't know, really know, what LISA means to her, or what it's like to feel someone else's skin when it's the first time you've ever felt it, and then lose it again. Maybe it's because somewhere, he could be right. She's lost so much that any move she makes is the wrong one, and it's paralyzing.
Her response is perhaps not the grateful one he expects and definitely deserves. It's harsh and defensive. "Let's get this straight, sugar bear. I went through hell to find this thing back home. I electrocuted a room full of men to walk away with it in my hands. I--"
Sold out someone I loved to get it back when I lost ( ... )
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