Lights Out and Shoot Up The Station 11 of ?
Title: Lights Out and Shoot Up The Station 11 of ?
Pairing or Characters: Ruby, Darryl, KC and a lot of OC's
Word Count: 3310
Rating: PG-13,
Disclaimer: Thanks for reading.
“You know this place is haunted.” Josh grunts slightly with the effort of pushing the combined weight of his sister, and the wheelbarrow across the dense jungle floor.
“There's no such thing as ghosts.” Theo snorts, his attention almost entirely taken up with studying a small piece of paper.
“This is taking forever.” Estelle complains.
“Apparently there's meant to be this mass grave filled with Technos.” Josh continues, his words heralding a sudden gust of wind.
“What's a Techno?” Estelle asks, wrinkling the bridge of her nose at the unfamiliar word.
Theo takes a moment glancing up from his own hand drawn map to respond to her question.
“They were some old tribe on the mainland, my Dad use to lead.” He surmises, turning the paper upside down, and then sideways.
Estelle flashes him a sceptical sidelong stare.
“So, what do you think happens when you die, then? If you don't believe in ghosts.” Oddly Josh forges on with his original train of thought, his arms aching in their sockets.
“You just die.” Theo's voice is filled with his lack of interest on the theological subject.
“This is morbid!” Estelle squeals, snatching the map from Theo's grasp she strains to follow the faint lines, and terrible hand writing under the beam of his touch.
“How can you read this!” She exclaims. “All the B and D's are the wrong way around.”
“I don't think he can.” Josh snorts, letting the wheelbarrow rest. He winces as he rotates his shoulder blades under Theo's pained expression.
“You're my best friend, you're meant to agree with me!” The other boy petulantly observes, sensitive over the metaphorical wound of his dyslexia, which has never properly healed.
“She's my sister dude, I have to live with her for the foreseeable. Anyway, Stellie is right, you can't read that thing, and I think we're going round in circles. Lets just forget about it, and go to the party, so we lost a bet, it's no big deal.”
Anyone who doesn't know Estelle and Josh would probably guess their ages incorrectly, for even though he has only just turned thirteen, Josh has the causal, relax demeanour of a much older boy.
He's protective towards his hard to translate sister, acting as a bridge between her and their peers. It's no secret that Estelle doesn't really have any friends of her own.
Perhaps not quite as intelligent as his precocious sibling, Josh is bright enough to easily hold his own in a class of children two or three years older than him.
“Stop being such a brat!” Estelle spits, before demanding, with the point of her finger.
“Wheel me to the party, Joshua!”
Josh and Theo exchange a quick glance in the aftermath of her command. Although neither of them speak, they both know exactly what the other is thinking.
Josh wordlessly lifts up the handles of the wheelbarrow.
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“You do realise, that you are probably going to die a virgin.” Alex observes.
Bray tries to ignore his friend's sentiments, he doesn't care anyway.
Well of course he does, he's got all the normal urges of an average late teenage boy, and the thought of dying alone, and never knowing the physical side of another persons affection, does send a jolt down to his very soul.
“I'm only joking mate,” Alex hovers back into view, his expression filled with pale concern.
Bray feels the sudden warmth of a hand on his shoulder, he returns the flash of a smile as Brady wraps one slender arm around his neck.
“Think of the positives, this way at-least you'll always be thin.” She teases warmly, his fingers tangling between her own many ringed digits.
“We'll when you put it like that, lead me to the hermitage!” Bray snorts back unimpressed by the suggestion.
Bray and Brady had at one time been as close as siblings, the fact that they are bonded by the same blood, and that their Mothers are best friends has lead him, and his younger brother Dal to spend most of their formative years in the company of their cousin.
Things haven't been the same since Brady has returned from her travels, she keeps secrets now in the way she never did before. Bray's not certain if she ever intends to tell him that she's quiet obviously sleeping with his friend.
“Oh Bray, is the only woman you could get, your cousin.” Violet sneers, Fenny giggles next to her.
The two girls have formed an unlikely companionship, built on the foundations of bullying, thieving, and Tai chi.
Bray often watches the girls as they practice Tai chi, along with his Mother, Alex and Tai-san. It's not as bad as it really sounds, because watching can easily be converted into admiring. Having tried a couple of lessons himself and he does genuinely admire Violet's grace, and ability.
Bray turns almost purple as he struggle to pluck a single word from thin air.
His tongue limply lifts from the inside of his mouth.
“Why are you jealous, Vi.” Alex is the one to respond, rescuing the little that is left of his friend's dignity.
Bray gives him a nervous smile.
“Brady's, not really my type.” Violet shoots back, with an arrogant flex of one arched eyebrow.
“Thank god!” Brady exclaims, resembling Trudy most when disgusted.
“Jag, skulle inte säger ingen.” Fenny chuckles, her words suddenly indecipherable.
Violet suprises the small group by answering her friend.
”Verkligen.” She says, her broad accent clashing against the word.
”Oh ja.” Fenny concludes, with an enthusiastic nod of her head.
Overtime Fenny has begun to morph slowly into the image of Violet. For instance they both share with Alex, an impressive, and colourful collection of Chakra tattoos, Violet's are situated as a indigo smudge on her forehead, and a long thick blue line running across her throat, while Fenny carries a green mark on her chest, and an orange splodge further down on her exposed abdomen.
Despite this there are two very apparent differences between the girls, while Violet's hair is as short as it can possibly be without her going to the effort of shaving it all off, Fenny's is only partial shaved at the back of her head, the front of her however is white blonde, and messy, bushy pigtails.
Violet also wears considerably more clothes than her friend, in fact she wears more clothes than anyone on the island, even Theo, she's always bundled up in long, oversized, completely unnecessary jumpers, even on her beaten up old surf board she wears a thick black t-shirt over her bikini.
Bray has been able to note however that Violet does posses a pair of wonderful legs.
Theo and Josh come clattering from the jungle suddenly, surprising the group.
”This should be good.” Violet grins, elbowing her friend conspiratorially.
While Alex, and Brady busy themselves with winding up the handle on the Gramophone, Jay has kindly lent them for the night, Bray continues to silently gaze at the object of his affection as she advances on the two younger boys.
Theo pushes Josh forward.
”I hope you haven't forgotten about our little bet, boys.” She purs, the amber light from the fire flickering over her features, giving her an almost demonic quality.
Fenny squares up behind her, only giving Josh the smallest of smiles.
”Well about that,”
”Cough up the booze!” Violet barks, cutting Theo off mid sentence.
”Yea!” The blonde girl postures over her shoulder, adding extra menace to the scene.
”Oh come off it, you live in a Saloon, it runs out of the taps like water!”
”We don't have any tapped beers.” Theo informs innocently.
Violet dramtically rolls her dark, oval shaped eyes.
”Alright the truth is, we do have some booze, but we've lost it.” Josh intercedes truthfully.
Violet and Fenny suddenly burst into a bout of excitable giggles, which make them sound much younger than they actually are.
”You two are such dorks, you should give up strumming your little guitars, and try and make it on the comedy circuit.” She says, clutching her sides.
Her smile quickly fades as she snaps her finger addressing Fenny.
”Why don't you show this kids, how it's done.” It's an order, mascaraing poorly as a suggestion.
The other girl hurries off quickly disappearing unafraid into jungle, a moment later she reappears dragging a wooden crate through the sand behind her, Bray quickly steps forward to help, the sound of glass clinking inside the covered box.
”Wait, hang on, that's our crate!” Theo explodes in a flurry of sudden outrage, and finger pointing.
The look of supreme arrogance flooding Violet's very being, quickens the pace of Bray's heart. He can't help but be impressed by her audacity, the fact that she and Fenny have stolen the boys stash from under their noses.
”Oh no boys, this is very much ours.” Her laughter resembles a full bellied roar, Bray is so caught up in Violet's gloating that he almost misses the sound of a faint plea for help.
Violet catches it too, jabbing an accusing finger at the boys in front of her.
”So not only have you failed to bring anything useful, but you've also dragged along that oxygen thief!”
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”Another one, General.” The only Techno perimeter guard Patsy can never remember the name of informs Solange, with a depressed sigh.
The night air is thick with the smell acrid smoke.
Patsy had been able to see the distant glow of the fire from her hotel bedroom window, it had almost appeared to burn through the fabric of her very curtains.
But, that was just the guilt, the knowledge that the burning will continue until the only Mallrat in the City goes to claim the victim.
She can't go, she's afraid that somehow seeing The Guardian will kill the woman, and somehow drag the terrified child back out of her.
Her gaze shifts silently over the chard, contorted remains of the human being symbolically dumped on the doorstep of the Techno's head quarters.
Patsy can still remember the place when it operated under the name the Horton & Bailey Hotel.
She notes, with only the barest hint of irony, the re-arrangement of her circumstances, which have led her to taking her morning swim in Ebony's infamous, old pool.
Live is funny, and it's also short, and in this case brutal.
”What really surprises me, is that they managed to find a virgin in this City, at all.” Patsy observes with practised indifference.
Her remark falls flat.
”Is there any way of identifying, who she was?” Solange questions the guard.
”She could be scanned, part of her bar-code might still be readable.” The guard replies, and Patsy notices the heavy black lines under his eyes, she knows she must look the same, they're all tired.
”Have her scanned, and if you can return the body to her tribe.” Solange orders, as the sentence leaves her mouth the sound of chanting floods the space around them.
ZOOT ZOOT ZOOT!
That's all they hear morning, noon and night, the name of a long dead boy repeated over, and over again.
Reality space is the only place any of them can now retreat for peace.
She went to his funeral, Zoot's.
Patsy is actually older Zoot now, much older, the grand old age of thirty, although she feels older, careworn even.
She's also alarmed at how much she is begin to resemble the various picture she'd seen of her Mother at the very same age.
The guard slips a thick, white sheet over the remains, and Patsy tries to forget the image of the girl before them.
”I need a drink.” She exclaims, realising that, that particular phrase has morphed into somewhat of a catchphrase of hers around the Techno HQ, she's even caught from time to time, a couple of the kitchen staff using it in various impressions of her.
Solange has condemned her to various periods of imposed rehab, from virtual reality space where she had to talk through her numerous mental problems, and personality defects, to locking Patsy in her suite cold turkey, but nothing has ever taken.
”Well, I need you sober.” Solange responds, leaving the grim spectacle behind them.
Despite her usual condition, Patsy can still clearly recall the day she walked back into the City, that had been her home for so many years.
The streets, which held a memory on each corner for her, had been empty, the place deserted in the fear of a virus that had failed to materialise.
It reminded her of her Father's favouriteThe Special's song Ghost Town.
Too much fighting on the dance floor.
There had been no second virus.
She still can't bring herself to visit The Mall, still afraid of what she may find inside. One of Patsy's earliest orders as Solange's top Commander had been to seal off the old shopping centre, unable to imagine anyone other than Mallrats ever making the place their home.
Those early days had been rough, trying to persuade tribes back into the once densely populated city had been hard, but they'd done it with the offer of various amenities, the water and electricity grid were still connect.
Soon the City had boasted a hospital, a school, even a basic sort of lending library.
Of course this had come at a price, but hard labour in the coal yards was ofset by limitless access to reality space, and of course weekends off.
And when everything had finally been set in place, that better future she'd always heard people like Amber, Bray and Danni eulogising about had finally been within reach, The Chosen had appeared.
Slowly sector after sector had been swallowed up by their madness, now the only thing that keeps The Chosen from reclaiming the City is the small band of Technos operating out of Ebony's old bolt hole.
Patsy watches as Solange holds up her telescope to her remaining eye.
”They've never been this close before.” The other woman says, the thick cord of her dressing gown suddenly caught in the breeze.
”I think we should leave, we can go back to The Techno's old base in the White City, it's still operational, and there's just as many resources for us to exploit there, as there are here. If we can boost our numbers, we might even be able to come back one day and re-take the place.” Pasty will do anything to escape, sometimes in her darker moments, she lets herself believe that she is in fact the one The Chosen are following not Zoot.
”I'm not leaving, not yet, not when I'm so close. After the Tribal Gathering everything will be finished.” Solange digs her heels in the way Patsy dreaded she would.
Patsy rolls her eyes, and suggests. ”Why don't you just give The Guardian the location of the island He who must not be named, is currently resident of. I'm sure he'd love to take him out.” The He who must not be named is of course, and as ever RAM.
The vein in the centre of Solange's forehead begins to vibrate, rising to the surface, Patsy notes that's a very bad sign.
”So, you want me to let The Guardian know the location of the island?” She asks, twisting the question back on Patsy.
”Yes, of course!”
”Even if the island in question happens to be full of your former Tribe?” Solange snaps the telescope closed.
Patsy is suddenly emotionally floored by the other woman's revelation. She'd never thought any of her former tribe would still be alive, let alone together.
Cloe and Salene, she wonders if either of them are still alive, there are no two people she would rather see in the world, other than her brother of course.
Even now, after so much, and so many years she still misses them.
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”Right, that's it, I've had enough!” Ruby's sudden out-burst startles Darryl, causing him to spill KC's pint down the front of his shirt.
”I'm s'not...paying for that.” KC slurs, appearing to clutch at the stability of the bar to keep himself up right.
”When do you ever pay?” Ruby snaps back, instantly outraged by the suggestion.
”Your tab is as long as my arm.” She huffs.
KC blinks mutely back at her.
”Hold the fort Darryl, I'm going out.” Ruby announces, retrieving her jacket from a nearby coat hook.
Darryl opens his mouth to protest, but she jumps in before he has the chance to utter a single syllable.
“Whatever you do, don't let KC behind my bar! And remember Lex is still barred.”
KC makes a vague spluttering noise, it's hard to tell if he's trying to speak, or breath, or both.
“Actually, don't serve him any more.” Ruby adds, reflecting on the younger man's shocking condition.
She's run into her fair share of drunks in the past, and shamefully kept on serving them, but KC has to be the very worst case Ruby has ever encountered. He's such a habitual drunk that even Lex, King Rat has started to give up on him.
Even though it's been three long years, Ruby can still remember with horrible clarity the night that Gel died.
Despite Gel's best efforts to irritate everyone on the island at one time or another, Ruby misses her the silly things she use to say, and especially do, she fully aware that Darryl still feels the loss of his best friend deeply, but it's KC who understandably can't seem to move past the event.
Ruby slips into her jacket as she makes her way across the busy Saloon.
New Liberty is a small place, apart from her Saloon the only other houses are Ebony and Slade's, and Alice's. Next to Alice's small, squat little dwelling is her pigsty, currently containing four happily little porkers Lex, KC, Ram and Tom's namesakes. Ebony had only recently been slaughtered, and Ruby had experienced no end of delight turning the spit.
Across the narrow dirt path sits a large concrete bunker, it had been one of the only buildings on the island when they had first arrived, it now serves as Ram's television station, much to the Mallrats' general chagrin.
Ruby pushes open the heavy metal door, demanding “Where is she!”
Pairing or Characters: Ruby, Darryl, KC and a lot of OC's
Word Count: 3310
Rating: PG-13,
Disclaimer: Thanks for reading.
“You know this place is haunted.” Josh grunts slightly with the effort of pushing the combined weight of his sister, and the wheelbarrow across the dense jungle floor.
“There's no such thing as ghosts.” Theo snorts, his attention almost entirely taken up with studying a small piece of paper.
“This is taking forever.” Estelle complains.
“Apparently there's meant to be this mass grave filled with Technos.” Josh continues, his words heralding a sudden gust of wind.
“What's a Techno?” Estelle asks, wrinkling the bridge of her nose at the unfamiliar word.
Theo takes a moment glancing up from his own hand drawn map to respond to her question.
“They were some old tribe on the mainland, my Dad use to lead.” He surmises, turning the paper upside down, and then sideways.
Estelle flashes him a sceptical sidelong stare.
“So, what do you think happens when you die, then? If you don't believe in ghosts.” Oddly Josh forges on with his original train of thought, his arms aching in their sockets.
“You just die.” Theo's voice is filled with his lack of interest on the theological subject.
“This is morbid!” Estelle squeals, snatching the map from Theo's grasp she strains to follow the faint lines, and terrible hand writing under the beam of his touch.
“How can you read this!” She exclaims. “All the B and D's are the wrong way around.”
“I don't think he can.” Josh snorts, letting the wheelbarrow rest. He winces as he rotates his shoulder blades under Theo's pained expression.
“You're my best friend, you're meant to agree with me!” The other boy petulantly observes, sensitive over the metaphorical wound of his dyslexia, which has never properly healed.
“She's my sister dude, I have to live with her for the foreseeable. Anyway, Stellie is right, you can't read that thing, and I think we're going round in circles. Lets just forget about it, and go to the party, so we lost a bet, it's no big deal.”
Anyone who doesn't know Estelle and Josh would probably guess their ages incorrectly, for even though he has only just turned thirteen, Josh has the causal, relax demeanour of a much older boy.
He's protective towards his hard to translate sister, acting as a bridge between her and their peers. It's no secret that Estelle doesn't really have any friends of her own.
Perhaps not quite as intelligent as his precocious sibling, Josh is bright enough to easily hold his own in a class of children two or three years older than him.
“Stop being such a brat!” Estelle spits, before demanding, with the point of her finger.
“Wheel me to the party, Joshua!”
Josh and Theo exchange a quick glance in the aftermath of her command. Although neither of them speak, they both know exactly what the other is thinking.
Josh wordlessly lifts up the handles of the wheelbarrow.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
“You do realise, that you are probably going to die a virgin.” Alex observes.
Bray tries to ignore his friend's sentiments, he doesn't care anyway.
Well of course he does, he's got all the normal urges of an average late teenage boy, and the thought of dying alone, and never knowing the physical side of another persons affection, does send a jolt down to his very soul.
“I'm only joking mate,” Alex hovers back into view, his expression filled with pale concern.
Bray feels the sudden warmth of a hand on his shoulder, he returns the flash of a smile as Brady wraps one slender arm around his neck.
“Think of the positives, this way at-least you'll always be thin.” She teases warmly, his fingers tangling between her own many ringed digits.
“We'll when you put it like that, lead me to the hermitage!” Bray snorts back unimpressed by the suggestion.
Bray and Brady had at one time been as close as siblings, the fact that they are bonded by the same blood, and that their Mothers are best friends has lead him, and his younger brother Dal to spend most of their formative years in the company of their cousin.
Things haven't been the same since Brady has returned from her travels, she keeps secrets now in the way she never did before. Bray's not certain if she ever intends to tell him that she's quiet obviously sleeping with his friend.
“Oh Bray, is the only woman you could get, your cousin.” Violet sneers, Fenny giggles next to her.
The two girls have formed an unlikely companionship, built on the foundations of bullying, thieving, and Tai chi.
Bray often watches the girls as they practice Tai chi, along with his Mother, Alex and Tai-san. It's not as bad as it really sounds, because watching can easily be converted into admiring. Having tried a couple of lessons himself and he does genuinely admire Violet's grace, and ability.
Bray turns almost purple as he struggle to pluck a single word from thin air.
His tongue limply lifts from the inside of his mouth.
“Why are you jealous, Vi.” Alex is the one to respond, rescuing the little that is left of his friend's dignity.
Bray gives him a nervous smile.
“Brady's, not really my type.” Violet shoots back, with an arrogant flex of one arched eyebrow.
“Thank god!” Brady exclaims, resembling Trudy most when disgusted.
“Jag, skulle inte säger ingen.” Fenny chuckles, her words suddenly indecipherable.
Violet suprises the small group by answering her friend.
”Verkligen.” She says, her broad accent clashing against the word.
”Oh ja.” Fenny concludes, with an enthusiastic nod of her head.
Overtime Fenny has begun to morph slowly into the image of Violet. For instance they both share with Alex, an impressive, and colourful collection of Chakra tattoos, Violet's are situated as a indigo smudge on her forehead, and a long thick blue line running across her throat, while Fenny carries a green mark on her chest, and an orange splodge further down on her exposed abdomen.
Despite this there are two very apparent differences between the girls, while Violet's hair is as short as it can possibly be without her going to the effort of shaving it all off, Fenny's is only partial shaved at the back of her head, the front of her however is white blonde, and messy, bushy pigtails.
Violet also wears considerably more clothes than her friend, in fact she wears more clothes than anyone on the island, even Theo, she's always bundled up in long, oversized, completely unnecessary jumpers, even on her beaten up old surf board she wears a thick black t-shirt over her bikini.
Bray has been able to note however that Violet does posses a pair of wonderful legs.
Theo and Josh come clattering from the jungle suddenly, surprising the group.
”This should be good.” Violet grins, elbowing her friend conspiratorially.
While Alex, and Brady busy themselves with winding up the handle on the Gramophone, Jay has kindly lent them for the night, Bray continues to silently gaze at the object of his affection as she advances on the two younger boys.
Theo pushes Josh forward.
”I hope you haven't forgotten about our little bet, boys.” She purs, the amber light from the fire flickering over her features, giving her an almost demonic quality.
Fenny squares up behind her, only giving Josh the smallest of smiles.
”Well about that,”
”Cough up the booze!” Violet barks, cutting Theo off mid sentence.
”Yea!” The blonde girl postures over her shoulder, adding extra menace to the scene.
”Oh come off it, you live in a Saloon, it runs out of the taps like water!”
”We don't have any tapped beers.” Theo informs innocently.
Violet dramtically rolls her dark, oval shaped eyes.
”Alright the truth is, we do have some booze, but we've lost it.” Josh intercedes truthfully.
Violet and Fenny suddenly burst into a bout of excitable giggles, which make them sound much younger than they actually are.
”You two are such dorks, you should give up strumming your little guitars, and try and make it on the comedy circuit.” She says, clutching her sides.
Her smile quickly fades as she snaps her finger addressing Fenny.
”Why don't you show this kids, how it's done.” It's an order, mascaraing poorly as a suggestion.
The other girl hurries off quickly disappearing unafraid into jungle, a moment later she reappears dragging a wooden crate through the sand behind her, Bray quickly steps forward to help, the sound of glass clinking inside the covered box.
”Wait, hang on, that's our crate!” Theo explodes in a flurry of sudden outrage, and finger pointing.
The look of supreme arrogance flooding Violet's very being, quickens the pace of Bray's heart. He can't help but be impressed by her audacity, the fact that she and Fenny have stolen the boys stash from under their noses.
”Oh no boys, this is very much ours.” Her laughter resembles a full bellied roar, Bray is so caught up in Violet's gloating that he almost misses the sound of a faint plea for help.
Violet catches it too, jabbing an accusing finger at the boys in front of her.
”So not only have you failed to bring anything useful, but you've also dragged along that oxygen thief!”
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”Another one, General.” The only Techno perimeter guard Patsy can never remember the name of informs Solange, with a depressed sigh.
The night air is thick with the smell acrid smoke.
Patsy had been able to see the distant glow of the fire from her hotel bedroom window, it had almost appeared to burn through the fabric of her very curtains.
But, that was just the guilt, the knowledge that the burning will continue until the only Mallrat in the City goes to claim the victim.
She can't go, she's afraid that somehow seeing The Guardian will kill the woman, and somehow drag the terrified child back out of her.
Her gaze shifts silently over the chard, contorted remains of the human being symbolically dumped on the doorstep of the Techno's head quarters.
Patsy can still remember the place when it operated under the name the Horton & Bailey Hotel.
She notes, with only the barest hint of irony, the re-arrangement of her circumstances, which have led her to taking her morning swim in Ebony's infamous, old pool.
Live is funny, and it's also short, and in this case brutal.
”What really surprises me, is that they managed to find a virgin in this City, at all.” Patsy observes with practised indifference.
Her remark falls flat.
”Is there any way of identifying, who she was?” Solange questions the guard.
”She could be scanned, part of her bar-code might still be readable.” The guard replies, and Patsy notices the heavy black lines under his eyes, she knows she must look the same, they're all tired.
”Have her scanned, and if you can return the body to her tribe.” Solange orders, as the sentence leaves her mouth the sound of chanting floods the space around them.
ZOOT ZOOT ZOOT!
That's all they hear morning, noon and night, the name of a long dead boy repeated over, and over again.
Reality space is the only place any of them can now retreat for peace.
She went to his funeral, Zoot's.
Patsy is actually older Zoot now, much older, the grand old age of thirty, although she feels older, careworn even.
She's also alarmed at how much she is begin to resemble the various picture she'd seen of her Mother at the very same age.
The guard slips a thick, white sheet over the remains, and Patsy tries to forget the image of the girl before them.
”I need a drink.” She exclaims, realising that, that particular phrase has morphed into somewhat of a catchphrase of hers around the Techno HQ, she's even caught from time to time, a couple of the kitchen staff using it in various impressions of her.
Solange has condemned her to various periods of imposed rehab, from virtual reality space where she had to talk through her numerous mental problems, and personality defects, to locking Patsy in her suite cold turkey, but nothing has ever taken.
”Well, I need you sober.” Solange responds, leaving the grim spectacle behind them.
Despite her usual condition, Patsy can still clearly recall the day she walked back into the City, that had been her home for so many years.
The streets, which held a memory on each corner for her, had been empty, the place deserted in the fear of a virus that had failed to materialise.
It reminded her of her Father's favouriteThe Special's song Ghost Town.
Too much fighting on the dance floor.
There had been no second virus.
She still can't bring herself to visit The Mall, still afraid of what she may find inside. One of Patsy's earliest orders as Solange's top Commander had been to seal off the old shopping centre, unable to imagine anyone other than Mallrats ever making the place their home.
Those early days had been rough, trying to persuade tribes back into the once densely populated city had been hard, but they'd done it with the offer of various amenities, the water and electricity grid were still connect.
Soon the City had boasted a hospital, a school, even a basic sort of lending library.
Of course this had come at a price, but hard labour in the coal yards was ofset by limitless access to reality space, and of course weekends off.
And when everything had finally been set in place, that better future she'd always heard people like Amber, Bray and Danni eulogising about had finally been within reach, The Chosen had appeared.
Slowly sector after sector had been swallowed up by their madness, now the only thing that keeps The Chosen from reclaiming the City is the small band of Technos operating out of Ebony's old bolt hole.
Patsy watches as Solange holds up her telescope to her remaining eye.
”They've never been this close before.” The other woman says, the thick cord of her dressing gown suddenly caught in the breeze.
”I think we should leave, we can go back to The Techno's old base in the White City, it's still operational, and there's just as many resources for us to exploit there, as there are here. If we can boost our numbers, we might even be able to come back one day and re-take the place.” Pasty will do anything to escape, sometimes in her darker moments, she lets herself believe that she is in fact the one The Chosen are following not Zoot.
”I'm not leaving, not yet, not when I'm so close. After the Tribal Gathering everything will be finished.” Solange digs her heels in the way Patsy dreaded she would.
Patsy rolls her eyes, and suggests. ”Why don't you just give The Guardian the location of the island He who must not be named, is currently resident of. I'm sure he'd love to take him out.” The He who must not be named is of course, and as ever RAM.
The vein in the centre of Solange's forehead begins to vibrate, rising to the surface, Patsy notes that's a very bad sign.
”So, you want me to let The Guardian know the location of the island?” She asks, twisting the question back on Patsy.
”Yes, of course!”
”Even if the island in question happens to be full of your former Tribe?” Solange snaps the telescope closed.
Patsy is suddenly emotionally floored by the other woman's revelation. She'd never thought any of her former tribe would still be alive, let alone together.
Cloe and Salene, she wonders if either of them are still alive, there are no two people she would rather see in the world, other than her brother of course.
Even now, after so much, and so many years she still misses them.
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”Right, that's it, I've had enough!” Ruby's sudden out-burst startles Darryl, causing him to spill KC's pint down the front of his shirt.
”I'm s'not...paying for that.” KC slurs, appearing to clutch at the stability of the bar to keep himself up right.
”When do you ever pay?” Ruby snaps back, instantly outraged by the suggestion.
”Your tab is as long as my arm.” She huffs.
KC blinks mutely back at her.
”Hold the fort Darryl, I'm going out.” Ruby announces, retrieving her jacket from a nearby coat hook.
Darryl opens his mouth to protest, but she jumps in before he has the chance to utter a single syllable.
“Whatever you do, don't let KC behind my bar! And remember Lex is still barred.”
KC makes a vague spluttering noise, it's hard to tell if he's trying to speak, or breath, or both.
“Actually, don't serve him any more.” Ruby adds, reflecting on the younger man's shocking condition.
She's run into her fair share of drunks in the past, and shamefully kept on serving them, but KC has to be the very worst case Ruby has ever encountered. He's such a habitual drunk that even Lex, King Rat has started to give up on him.
Even though it's been three long years, Ruby can still remember with horrible clarity the night that Gel died.
Despite Gel's best efforts to irritate everyone on the island at one time or another, Ruby misses her the silly things she use to say, and especially do, she fully aware that Darryl still feels the loss of his best friend deeply, but it's KC who understandably can't seem to move past the event.
Ruby slips into her jacket as she makes her way across the busy Saloon.
New Liberty is a small place, apart from her Saloon the only other houses are Ebony and Slade's, and Alice's. Next to Alice's small, squat little dwelling is her pigsty, currently containing four happily little porkers Lex, KC, Ram and Tom's namesakes. Ebony had only recently been slaughtered, and Ruby had experienced no end of delight turning the spit.
Across the narrow dirt path sits a large concrete bunker, it had been one of the only buildings on the island when they had first arrived, it now serves as Ram's television station, much to the Mallrats' general chagrin.
Ruby pushes open the heavy metal door, demanding “Where is she!”