Rowan on the Wing (rowanonthwing) wrote in downfallrpg, @ 2010-01-31 21:35:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2015-08-23, rowan, rowan and verity, verity |
Moving the Motorcycle
Who: Rowan and Verity, with Jasper and Juniper (NPCs)
Where: The house, and just outside it!
When: Late morning, 1030-ish
During the night, even once Rowan had made it back to his and Juniper's room sometime after midnight, Rowan hadn't really gotten much sleep. Between the ever-present ache that the advil had only taken the edge off of not taken away entirely, the awkwardness of trying to deal with the wings, and the jerking awake every time he heard one of those howls or animal screams close enough to the house to hear clearly, even the five hours or so after dawn that he did manage to sleep felt like just an eyeblink. He hadn't even noticed when Juniper left the bed sometime not long after dawn, because he'd just been so exhausted.
But now he was actually awake, and felt vaguely guilty for sleeping so late when who knew what was out there and there were other housemates to worry about. It was only after he'd used the bathroom to take care of a few necessary things and splashed some water on his face that he realized he hadn't heard a single monster-noise since he'd woken up. "Huh," he told himself, and then he headed out to see what'd happened to the rest of the house while he slept like a goddamned rock all morning.
Juniper and Jasper were in the kitchen, Juniper having found some blank paper and colored pencils somewhere in the house and started them both on drawing. She held pencils in two of her four hands, a third hugging her stuffed rabbit and the fourth holding the paper still. She utterly ignored him, engrossed in whatever she was trying to draw. It looked relatively dark, and Rowan decided not to look too closely. Instead, he headed into the living room to look for Liah or Verity.
Verity was in a chair near the kitchen door. He didn't want to overpower Jasper by hovering constantly, but he couldn't stand to have his little brother far away. It seemed like every time he'd turned around lately he'd lost something. Something vital. Some fundamental truths about the world had changed, and that his brother wouldn't disappear or change or die in a moment was no longer the realm of unreality. He had found a book, but he couldn't pay attention to it. For one thing, it wasn't very good, a very flatly written, poorly characterized spy novel full of macho posturing and incredibly warped misogyny. He probably couldn't have paid attention to a Dr. Who novelization or a newly discovered last complete work of Douglas Adams right now, though.
He looked up when Rowan entered and smiled. Much as Verity felt like he needed to walk on eggshells around the guy, he was the most familiar part of this rather ghastly new world. Not to mention someone useful to have around. And he had wings, something Verity would describe as shiny if he thought Rowan wouldn't just be confused by the Firefly reference. He put the book down gratefully, glad to have something else to do. "Hey." Rowan didn't exactly look rested, but Verity couldn't blame him and didn't comment. He pushed his hair out of his face, knowing he looked pretty wiped himself. He hadn't really slept a wink. He was used to not sleeping, but because of homework, not because his brother was crying beside him and the act of closing his eyes made him feel besieged.
"Hey," Rowan said, eyes falling on Verity as he paused in the entry-way to the living room. He grinned wanly and came the rest of the way into the room, wings half-open behind him, as they seemed to default to. They didn't hurt quite as much today, it seemed like. "Is it just me, or things quieted down a bit out there?" Because he still hadn't heard a peep. It was like the town was dead-- but then, they were on the outskirts of Detroit proper, right now, so maybe they were just outside the worst danger zone? Hell, he had no idea.
"Yeah, it's been pretty quiet. Comparatively." Verity shrugged. "I haven't heard anything new since I got up, anyway. It's been better for the kids." He'd found a couple of children's movies. There didn't seem to be any sign of a kid living here, which was a blessing, but he suspected the couple in residence had had visiting nieces and nephews or somesuch. "They got to watch 101 Dalmatians in relative peace." Verity had been glad for the respite. Jasper had always loved that movie, and he'd seemed almost normal while it was on. And it wasn't nearly as annoying as some of those movies. If he'd had to listen to the godawful songs from Sleeping Beauty or Cinderella his sanity might have decayed a little more.
"Oh, nice, you found some kids movies? Awesome." He hadn't seen any evidence that kids lived here, either, but then, he hadn't thought about it much. Anything to keep the kids entertained. Then he gave Verity a hopeful sort of look. "Don't suppose you made any coffee, did you?" He was guessing Liah was hiding away in her room again, being anti-social. Either that or she'd slept as badly as he had, and was still there, which was probably more likely.
"Yeah, I made a pot when I woke up." Coffee was the one culinary art he'd mastered. The amount of it he went through studying required that he learn to make it well and with some variation, just to keep his sanity. "Had to dig a little. They had that nasty hazelnut stuff, but I found a block of dark roast in the freezer." He almost got out of his chair to go get some, then realized that he had absolutely no reason to be fetching coffee, especially when Rowan was already up. "There's half and half in the fridge, if you use it." Verity liked his coffee black as night and sweet as sin, as he always thought to himself but would never say aloud for fear of how it would sound said by someone who wasn't a Neil Gaiman character.
"I need as much caffeine as I can get right now, I think," Rowan said. "So no cream for me...." He shuffled off into the kitchen, wings twitching a bit behind him with each step, and poured himself a generously full mug. It was even a pretty big mug. He even paused to ruffle Juniper's hair and glance at her drawing-- lots of black and purple, it looked like, with some blue in there. It didn't look like much of anything, actually, so he just told her "very nice" when she asked if he liked it, said hello to Jasper, and then eased his way back into the living room with Verity, sipping gratefully at his coffee. The guy didn't make coffee too badly, anyway. Grudging compliments, even when they were unspoken.
Verity had wandered to the window, no longer kidding himself that the mass-market trashy novel was going to distract him. His bike was still out there, he was glad to see. Well, why would a random marauding beast care about it? Without brains and thumbs, it was just a hunk of metal. Nothing to eat, no shelter or weapon. He looked over his shoulder, wishing he could have another cup of coffee, but he was going to try to stick to only as much caffeine as he needed. If he built up his tolerance any more, they'd need to raid the grocery store for Red Bull. And aside from the danger and stupidity of that plan, the stuff tasted miserable. "I think there might be oatmeal left if you want to microwave some. Though it's getting on to lunch. I was thinking of making burgers?"
Casting Verity a brow-raised look, Rowan said, "I thought you said you didn't really cook." Not that he objected to burgers, of course, but... well. He'd gladly make them himself, though. Burgers were definitely in his repertoire. "I'm not really hungry right now, though, so I can wait for lunch when it comes around." Besides, oatmeal sounded gross. If he had breakfast, it'd probably be cereal, or something. He took his coffee over to the bay window, too, moving the curtain aside a little again so he could peer out. "Looks like your bike's still there."
"I learned burgers. I have a couple things I make. My Dad was into grilling a lot and..." He trailed off, wondering in vain where his father might be. Verity was tempted to hope he was dead. Better that than what September had become. But what if he was alive, ensconced at work somewhere? What if he got back to the house? There'd been no way to leave a note. And that thing that had been September was probably still there... He shivered and pushed the thought away. "You shouldn't have to do all the cooking. Oh, yeah, it is." He walked over and stood beside Rowan, having to twist a little to not bump into his wings. "I didn't think it'd go anywhere, but it's something."
"I wouldn't've been surprised if we woke up to it being a twisted hunk of metal, at this point," Rowan snorted lightly, peering out at it as he sucked down coffee. They'd deal with who cooked what later, right now he was seeing an opportunity to maybe go outside. Maybe stretch his legs. Maybe see how bad it was from some other vantage point than the living room window. His idea from the day before had come back with a vengeance. Maybe he just felt too cooped up. "Think we should bring it into the garage?"
"Yeah, we may end up needing it." He wasn't sure what we that was. Verity could fit a maximum of two people. It was a small bike, and with the road so cluttered and perilous, he wouldn't let anyone on without a helmet. Jasper knew a little how to drive it, and in some kind of emergency it would be best to get the kids out, but no matter how well Jasper could drive in an open parking lot when there wouldn't be cops to catch them, those roads wouldn't admit them. But maybe one of them would go scouting or to raid a grocery store? "You want to keep an eye out while I move it? Can Liah drive one, do you know? I don't imagine those wings would make it comfortable."
"Liah's brother has-- um, had one," Rowan corrected himself with a little wince. "Dunno if she ever drove it, if he ever let her.... But as long as you got the kids on the bike with you, that's fine. She can, uh, she can walk through walls and shit, so I figure she'll be okay if monsters attack. Or whatever. She can just phase through the wall and be safe." Or phase through a monster's attack. He was hoping that one was possible. He downed the last of his coffee. Maybe he'd get another cup-- after they got the bike in. "C'mon. Might as well get it in now, while it's quiet. Never know when it'll stop bein' quiet."
If he had to, if it was a matter of life and death, he'd get them both on somehow. At least Juniper could hold on very tightly. "True. Um..." He looked around and picked up a fireplace poker. There were better makeshift weapons about, but he wanted to go before they'd had time to tell themselves how many horrid things could happen in the few minutes they'd be outside. Besides, he'd never been in a fight in his life. He'd been rather good at running away from or giving up to bullies, so even childhood interactions had never erupted into something he could call a fight. He'd probably be as useless with a big kitchen knife as with the big chunk of decorative metal. "Okay, let's." He was still a little worried about the garage. Hopefully the door was manual.
Rowan took a moment to dart back to the bedroom, where he'd left his coat-- which was staying there, thanks-- and more importantly, his gun. He checked to make sure there were still bullets, and then trotted back out, showing it briefly to Verity before tucking it into his pocket. He wasn't gonna let the little kids see it, if he could help it. "Let's go." He led them through the kitchen, rather than out the front, to the door leading into the garage-- because the garage door wasn't manual, and the button was inside. "We'll be right back, kiddos," he told the two on the way through. "Bringin' the bike in."
Jasper nodded. He didn't look up, but even a direct response to stimuli had become rare, and Verity noted it gladly. Then he kept his eye on the garage. He knew Rowan had looked, but a dark space full of little alcoves seemed like a perfect monster hiding location. And it wouldn't exactly be impregnable, either. It seemed like animals had gone just as wrong as people. The new, tidy house didn't worry him that way, but out here... He didn't think a mouse or a squirrel would be a problem, but a cat or raccoon might be enough. And all they had in case of a bite was a first aid kit. He kept a close eye out as they stepped inside, gripping his makeshift weapon tightly. If the place really was as safe as inside, he might look around for something better. A crowbar, maybe. He flicked the lights on the second his feet were past the door.
Rowan looked around, too, but his narrow-eyed gaze didn't show anything. He pulled his gun out, closed the door behind them, and then hit the button for the door, and the he started groaning upwards. He didn't wait for it to get all the way open: he started out, ducking under the half-open door, and walking in a ready-to-bolt crouch on his way down the empty driveway. The air was smokey, and it smelled a little the closer to the street and the stalled cars he got, and it was hot, but it was still pretty quiet. It didn't look like there was anything moving out here besides the two of them, just now.
Verity was worried about the heat. The bodies in the streets were horrifying enough already, but given a few days in this sweltering miasma and it'd be dangerous to go outside for even more reasons. Leaving aside the disease that would no doubt fester on its own with such a smorgasbord of rotting flesh, the water supply would probably be filled with extra nastiness. And the plumbing couldn't hold very long without maintenance. Long term prospects didn't look good from any direction. Maybe there would be surgical masks somewhere in the house. He hadn't noticed them with the first aid stuff, but maybe cleaning supplies? Otherwise cloth would have to do. He tiptoed beside Rowan, not falling into much of a stance. He wouldn't be able to get going any faster if he started out ready. Verity made a beeline for the bike.
Hell, the whole problem with heat and bodies hadn't even occurred to Rowan. He was too busy thinking about other things, like the possibility of there being monsters hiding out here. He didn't hear or see anything, but he made his way out to the bike carefully nonetheless. Straining his ears, he thought he could hear something in the far distance, back towards downtown, but nothing closer. "You move the bike," he hissed to Verity, once they reached it. "I'll cover...." And possibly peek into the cars around it, while he was at it. See whether there were bodies inside. It smelled kind of like it.
Verity didn't especially want to check for corpses. He was sure there were some, but it didn't seem like looking carefully would do any good at all. He kept his eyes on the bike and his mind nowhere. He was getting better at this not thinking thing. The bike looked fine. There was, of course, no reason it wouldn't, but he was glad to see it. A lot of hours and love had gone into the machine, and he indulged himself in about two seconds of just resting his hands on the chassis before he hopped on. He took a careful look around himself, trying to avoid looking inside cars. Then he realized there was no reason monsters wouldn't be in cars and sighed before he turned the motorcycle on.
The temptation was just too great. Rowan peered into the nearest car-- which had crashed into another car when the disease hit. Whoever it was, whether or not they'd been destined to die from the disease, died in the crash, it looked like, since they rather obviously hadn't been wearing a seat belt. It looked like something had been... gnawing on it.... Rowan was glad he hadn't wound up eating breakfast, because his stomach rolled uncomfortably in him, and he had a feeling that if he'd eaten anything, he'd have thrown it up right about then. he sound of the motorcycle made him jump, his wings flicking out as if ready to launch him into the air-- but of course he had no idea if he could even fly. It wasn't like he knew how.
It sounded louder than usual in the silent town, and Rowan looked around nervously, looking for anything that might've woken up or been alerted to their presence by it.
With the same thought, Verity drove straight into the garage and killed the engine as soon as he could. There, she'd be safe, and there if they needed her. He jumped off and walked out to meet Rowan coming back. Just to minimize any time he might spend alone outside, even by a few seconds. Yeah, he had a gun, but unless he'd been to the shooting range or something, Verity doubted he knew very well what to do with it. He wanted to talk, just to fill the silence, to ask if Rowan wanted to watch another movie or make some comment about how the air would probably be downright poisonous soon, but any unnecessary noise would be stupid. Even after the motor. Who knew what attracted those things? So he was quiet, stealing his usual glance at Rowan's wings.
Rowan paused outside as the engine died, listening hard, standing just in the driveway. What he heard, though, wasn't the sound of an angry monster-- he heard what sounded pretty clearly like gunshots, in the distance. His wings gave a startled beat, which didn't quite lift him off the ground, but did make him feel oddly light for a minute. "Did you hear that?" he whispered at Verity, staring in the direction the sound seemed to have come from.
Again: gunfire. Two shots. It was a ways away, but it was pretty clear that's what it was. Rowan remembered the sound of his own gun firing all too well to mistake it for anything else.
"Yeah. Yeah, I did." And he was equally certain. He hadn't heard a gun fired in real life, but he knew it wasn't any other sources of such noises (an engine malfunctioning angrily, thunder, etc.), and he wanted it to be a gun. That meant someone else. Though hopefully not someone who intended to use that gun on anything else human. Verity was suddenly struck by the realization that not everyone would take this as an opportunity to all be friends. But even if the gunman (or woman, whichever) were looting or raping or whatever, at least it meant more survivors than they'd seen before.
That was what Rowan was thinking-- that gunfire meant more survivors, and more people out there still normal. ... ish. If he and Juniper and Liah could be called normal, anymore. He actually stood there staring for a good minute, squinting into the smokey, heat-shimmery distance as if he could actually see the firer, before he shook himself and grabbed Verity's elbow to lead him back into the garage. "C'mon, we gotta get back inside. If someone's shooting, probably means there's shit goin' down, and I don't want involved in it."
Verity had to agree. He wasn't a snap-judgment person. Left on his own, he'd have stood there debating the chances of finding allies or attackers, getting himself killed or finding someone who'd keep him alive, whether risking leaving Jasper alone, however slim that chance, could be worth it until he was eaten by something. It was going to be very good that he had Rowan. He followed quickly, closing the garage door behind them. "Yeah. Let's just keep a close eye on the windows for the next little while." If they could figure out how to get Rowan off the ground, he could scout this sort of thing out. But then, whoever had a gun might panic and send a shot at him. Who wouldn't panic in a world full of monster if one seemed able to attack from above?
"Sounds like a damn good idea, to me," Rowan agreed, darting back into the garage and hitting the button to close it. There, now the bike was as safe as they could make it. The door was metal panels, and what monster would bother tearing at those when there were windows, anyway? Not that he hoped any monsters would be tearing at windows, either, but still. "There's more people out there, though," he added once the door was shut, sounding somewhere between amazed and excited. "More survivors. Monsters ain't gonna use a gun."
"You think we should maybe, um, do something to make it clear that we're here? Something a monster wouldn't be able to make sense of. I guess a sign? I'm not sure what it would say. Nice, sane, but well-armed people here? Just in case someone decides this is a fun opportunity to screw the rules, I mean. That last part. If we find paint we could use the curtains so it would hang in the windows." And... he was talking too much. But he couldn't stop, excited as well and nervous on top of it. "Lights or sound would get us spotted. Though I guess we might shine a light just on the sign in case someone goes by at night. If they're moving at night, they'll need more help..."
"If they're moving by night, man, they're dead, you heard it last night. And I don't want nobody that stupid here, anyway," Rowan said quickly. "No lights." He frowned, glaring at the garage door as he thought. The decision he came to after a short pause was only half a decision: "We gotta talk to Liah 'bout this. I ain't making decisions without her involved." Maybe they could have a little conference, or something, once she woke up and got moving, too. Maybe he'd go wake her up, if she wasn't awake already, from the sound of the bike and the garage door.
"Well, yeah, we should ask her." Liah seemed even more standoffish than Rowan. Verity thought the winged man might be growing to... well, tolerate him, but he hadn't talked to Liah enough to know if she might be convinced to do the same. At least he and Rowan had the kids to bond over. Rowan would be doing the asking, probably. So Verity didn't exactly have to worry. Maybe if it wasn't presented as particularly his idea? He didn't like the idea of leaving anyone out there, even if it might strain food supplies even more. But if someone came along who might hurt Jasper... or Juniper... or, hell, Rowan or Liah, Verity, well, had no idea what he would do. Visualize a toaster's workings at them? He'd be upset. He decided to stop thinking so much.
And here Rowan was thinking conference. Liah had to come out and acknowledge Verity sooner or later. "C'mon, let's go back in the house. We can make hamburgers for everybody, and then I can drag Liah out and we'll talk." He headed for the door back to the house proper, having at least gotten that part worked out in his mind. He could put off figuring out what to do about gunfire until then.
"Yeah, a good lunch might make everyone feel better." Since none of them seemed to have gotten any real rest, and he doubted Liah would be any different. At least they could be comfortable and well-fed. "You know what sucks? There's beer in the fridge, and fuck could I use one, but we really can't..." Verity wasn't a lightweight, but he didn't dare impair himself even a little. He was also very good at turning cursing on and off based on whether there were children around.
"Maybe we can get totally trashed in the morning, then sleep it off all afternoon," Rowan laughed a little, then opened the door into the kitchen. Juniper came darting back into the kitchen as he stepped back inside, trying to look innocent. "What were you up to, kiddo?" Rowan asked.
"Nothing!" Juniper exclaimed, hopping back up onto her chair at the table and grabbing up her pencils again. Truth was, she'd been at the living room window, watching what they'd been doing, and then trying to see if anything else was happening once they'd disappeared into the garage.
That kept Verity from replying, which would have had to entail admitting how much he liked that plan. He wasn't much of a drinker normally, probably because he was usually busy and his parents didn't care one way or the other, removing the fun of rebelling, but right now, who didn't need a drink? He smiled at Juniper. "I hope it's fun nothing. You ready for lunch?" Verity glanced at Jasper, who had found a pack of cards and was beginning a castle, and patted his shoulder. He didn't get a response.
"I'm ready!" Juniper cried.
"Then we'd better get moving on it," Rowan said in that fake-nervous voice that he usually used when humoring his little sister, as if she might get mad at him if he didn't hurry fast enough. It was habit, automatic even, no matter what else was going on. "You can go ahead and get the stuff out, Ver'. I'm gonna go wake up Liah, and I'll be right back."
"Yeah, I'll get on that." He might as well go ahead and be fancy. As soon as the electricity went out, they'd be eating everything cold and seasonings wouldn't do a lot of good. Verity went looking for onions and spices and fancy mustard, wanting to make the good meals they had left something reasonably special. He was finally grateful to Dad for making him learn to cook things that one might place on a grill at some point. He'd always felt it was a sort of weird, internalized macho thing, but it seemed the ability to cook meat would be useful at least once.