KC (escapevelocity) wrote in remains_rpg, @ 2016-06-13 15:50:00 |
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Entry tags: | # 2019 [06] june, kevin clarke, victoria reed |
Who: Torrie Reed and Kevin Clarke
Where: the Tunnels, Torrie’s train car
When: early afternoon, 6/5
What: talking about the US government’s arrival in Austin, comparing notes on what comes next
So Austin was changing. The cavalry had arrived at last, the would-be dictator was dethroned, and there was no place to go but up. Or that was the story, at any rate. There were parts of it that didn't sit right, though. Like this registration business. Handing out rations and setting up utilities sounded good on paper, so did the idea of moving people out of the overcrowded shelters. Given how badly the city’s survivors had been screwed for the last three years, however, it was impossible not to look for hidden motives. Was this President Hemings trustworthy? Was she writing bad checks, making promises for things she could never possibly deliver? And then there was the fact that registration, with all the strings attached, meant stepping back into a past Kevin never thought he'd see again. But that past was knocking on his door anyway, now that Nina knew he was alive. When it came to trusting someone else’s judgement, Kevin knew Torrie was the best person to cut through all the bullshit and see straight to the heart of any matter. It didn't surprise him, then, that it was her he decided to go see, her opinion on this chain of events that he most wanted to hear. First he wanted to see what sorts of provisions the government was handing out, but after a trip to the nearest established supply depot, it was to Torrie’s train car that he went next. Rapping his knuckles on the outside of the carriage, he called out, “You in? It's KC. I brought the bounties of the US government, figured you might like to see what we’re signing our souls away for.” Torrie had been keeping a low profile since the announcement. Not only because of that, but it played a large enough part that it deserved mentioning. She never liked being in her own head, but considering everything that had developed she couldn’t really waltz into the UMCB and demand to pick at Sol’s brain for awhile. No matter how open to the interruption her brother would have been. Her spine straightened at the knock on her train car, but relaxed just as quickly when she heard KC’s familiar voice. If she couldn’t badger Solomon about the US government moving in, KC was a very good consolation. She unfurled her limbs from where she’d been curled on the bed and padded across the space to haul the door open for him. “I haven’t signed my soul away for anything,” she told him as she stepped to the side to let him in. “But I might think about it if there are thin mints.” The last of the boxes she’d been gifted had been emptied a while ago. Stepping in through the door, Kevin gave Torrie the easygoing smile that was practically his trademark. “Thin mints, huh? I was always more into the Samoas, myself. Haven’t thought about them in a long time, though.” He chuckled softly and gave a slight shake of his head. Just another one of those things about life from before that you just kind of forgot about after a while.“Those Girl Scouts used to set up their little tables everywhere during cookie season, but I guess the tunnels ain’t on the list of approved locations. Can’t imagine why.” Torrie smirked a little, relaxed around KC like she rarely was around anyone else that wasn’t Solomon lately. “I’d bet it’s because they don’t have fucking flashlights.” But it was weird that Girl Scouts could actually be a thing again. If the government wasn’t bullshitting them. “So much for always being prepared.” As he came a little further into the train car, Kevin slipped the pack off his back and pulled open the zipper on the main compartment. “They’re giving out survival rations, i.e. the boring stuff -- bottled water, more cans of food, some toiletries. But I guess it’s none of it expired, so that’s something.” He fished inside for a moment and pulled out a can of pinto beans. “You don’t think that’s worth the price of registration?” “The hell?” Torrie raised her eyebrows, her tone unimpressed. “I can find that kind of shit at the H-E-B, and if they’re really handing out survival rations then fuck them.” Maybe it was unfair, but she’d been jaded by Ollinger and his regime enough that handing out bottled water and basics wasn’t going to get her in any line anytime soon. She didn’t have her brother’s image to think about anymore, since he’d been removed as leader and as far a she knew hadn’t been returned to the position. “I know, right?” The can went onto a nearby flat surface, and Kevin reached into the bag again. The next thing he pulled out was so shrouded in layers of plastic wrap that it was practically unrecognizable. “And a steak sandwich? Well, they got these things just laying around the nearest Potbelly. Probably not even from a good cut.” He tilted his head to glance sideways at Torrie, the quirk of his mouth showing he knew just exactly how much he'd buried the lede on this one. “Couldn't resist,” he added, which wasn't quite and apology. The sandwich he held out to her was a better peace offering. “You bastard,” Torrie exclaimed, but in a way that made it more fond than anything. But she didn’t miss the opportunity to smack at his arm before she relieved him of the steak sandwich. “I should throw you out for that.” She peeled back the packaging slowly, one eye on Kevin and one of the sandwich. It smelled better than anything in a long time, but it also reminded her of the fine food that had been served at the Moon Ball, and that slowed her actions. With a pause, she gave him a look laced with concern. “You don’t think it's poisoned, do you?” Nothing like dying from a sandwich to be the cherry on top of a banner week. As if the zombie thing yesterday hadn’t been bad enough. Kevin cast a dubious look at the sandwich, sizing up the odds. Would the newcomers roll into the city, claiming to be salvation, only to have something more sinister in mind? He wished the possibility were a little more far-fetched, but given that Olinger had apparently been behind the s’mores gas all this time, he had to admit that there was a little too much plausibility in this particular conspiracy theory. “It would have to be a slow-acting one. Folks were eating them right outside the depot, and they were all still standing,” he said, after a moment. His gaze flickered back to Torrie. “You want me to be your food taster? If I keel over in a couple minutes, you’ll know not to eat the sandwich.” Before KC had finished his sentence Torrie held her sandwich out to him, a little smirk playing at one corner of her mouth. “Well usually I’d make Sol do it, but since you’re here…” The packaging it was wrapped in crinkled as Torrie tilted her hand a little. “You’d better not die on me though. I won’t be able to haul your body out of here.” In the meanwhile, while she waited she pulled one of the chairs out from her makeshift table and curled her legs up cross legged. “What was the depot like?” She might have been suspicious of all of it, but she was also curious. Sandwich back in hand, Kevin let his bag drop to the floor and used his foot to nudge another chair out from the table for himself. “Busy,” he said, dropping into the seat with a shrug. “Everyone likes a handout, I guess. And they’re really pushing the whole registration thing, but I ain’t quite ready to take that plunge.” He would do it, probably, in the end. But it was a fact he wasn't quite ready to admit to himself yet, not until he had a chance to think it all through. So, pushing it aside for now, he tore off a piece of the sandwich and tried it, letting his eyes close for a moment as he chewed. “Damn, if this is death by steak, so far I can’t say I mind it at all. Beats the hell out of the shit we been eating.” Kevin swallowed, and offered the rest of the sandwich back. “If I start to feel poisoned, I'll let you know.” With keen eyes, Torrie took back the sandwich and carefully broke off a smaller piece for herself. “It might be too late then,” she teased wryly, then popped the bit of sandwich into her mouth. It was so much better than she would have expected. Better than cobbled together canned goods and stale Thin Mints, or the hospital rations. It reminded her of Denver, which was ironic only because of who it came from. There’d been a place, Denver Ted’s, that had sandwiches that tasted close to the one she was holding. “You think there’s anything to worry about with registration?” Torrie couldn’t blame the government for encouraging it as enthusiastically as they had, but she wondered if that was the best tactic for Austin as a city, or for some of the people that had probably been Stockholm Syndrome’d by Ollinger pretty damn good. Not the ones in his circle, but the ones that had bought into all his rhetoric blindly. “And even if there isn’t, I can’t find a good reason to jump in line yet either.” Kevin swallowed, then brushed his hands across his lap. That was the question, wasn't it? Sandwiches might be a sign of good will, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more going on here. That the federal government would only come in if they got something back out of it. Or maybe he'd just been reading too many conspiracy books. “I don’t know.” He shook his head, a sober expression setting up on his face. “I been telling myself that it ain’t that different than the way things were done before, but after all of Olinger’s shady shit, it’s hard to trust these newcomers. Hell, I don’t trust most of the people who’ve been at the Capitol all this time either.” Kevin paused to weigh his next words. He’d never talked about Nina with anyone, for fear that it would get back to her, or harm her in some way. With the way things were changing, though, continuing to hide their connection was seeming more impossible. Might as well start owning it, at least with people like Torrie, who he knew would understand what it was like to have an older sibling with a position to worry about. “Except they went and made my sister the mayor, and I do trust her.” Of every sentence Torrie could have guessed KC would say, ’except they went and made my sister the mayor’ hadn’t been an option. Even if she had very few secrets herself, she guessed at the reasons behind KC’s silence on his relatives. But it stunned her for a minute. Nina Clarke was a name that she knew only because of the circles that Solomon had operated in. “Damn,” she said eventually. “I’d trust Solomon if they named him to the position.” Maybe it wasn’t a conventional endorsement, but it said a lot that she didn’t debate it. “That makes it more complicated, right?” If she were in his shoes it might have even changed her stance on registering in the first place. Torrie had always been ultra aware of what the public thought of her brother, and had always tried to do as minimal of damage to his reputation as possible. But it might be different with KC and Nina. It was not lost on Kevin just how understated Torrie’s reaction was. Maybe that said something about her thoughts on Nina, since he’d never known her to avoid saying something when it needed to be said. In fact, he counted on her for it. So he took this as a tentatively good sign. Giving a quiet chuckle, he agreed, “Everything is more complicated when it comes to Nina.” Not that he made things any easier. Most of their disagreements were probably due more to his pig-headedness than hers. “She would want me to register, and be an upstanding, law-abiding citizen for the rest of my life. I could live with that, if it weren’t for the fact that I’m still not sure having her name tied to mine is going to be good in the long run.” He paused for a moment, sighing quietly. “Your brother’s registering, I guess?” “Yeah, he’ll register,” Torrie replied. “If he wasn’t planning to I’m sure he would have given me the heads up that he was leaving instead.” There were plans if one or the other ever decided to leave Austin, and none of them included stranding the other where they were at. “So eventually I’ll be that sibling making him look bad.” She took another bite from her sandwich and refrained from talking through a mouthful of steak. “I’m never sure if having Sol tied to me is that smart either. Even now I know I could be a few short steps away from another fuck up.” Torrie crumpled the wrapper that she’d left on the table, “There’s a lot of pressure when someone else's image depends on yours, just a little bit. But you’re not as much of a fuck up as you think, on the scale down here.” KC was practically well adjusted compared to some, and more together than Torrie thought she was. There was some truth to Torrie’s observation and Kevin nodded, acknowledging it. He’d managed to get clean and stay that way -- by the skin of his teeth sometimes, retreating from the tunnels to hide out in the abandoned bookstore whenever temptation started getting the better of him -- but that didn’t stop him feeling like he, too, was only a step or two ahead of his demons. It was a worry that had followed him since even before shufflers and s’mores gas and prax, making it that much harder to shake. “Down here, sure. But up there?” He pointed at the ceiling, indicating the city above them. “Being an ex-con and an addict ain't exactly marks in my favor, or in Nina’s. I am what I am, though, and she knows that. I guess I've been hiding from it long enough.” Though still not completely confident that registering was the best idea, Kevin could feel himself leaning that way all the same. Getting picked up for scavenging later because he’d refused to go along with the new way of things wasn’t going to help Nina either. And he definitely did not want to end up back in prison. Blowing out a sigh, Torrie looked at KC point blank. “Just because those labels can be slapped onto you in a fucking blink, it doesn’t mean you have to accept them,” she told him, even if she believed he already knew that. “Or prove them. You and your sister obviously have a different relationship than me and my brother, but I don’t think you want to take a fucking atom bomb to whatever still exists there.” She didn't think KC would be as torn if he was willing to bury his relationship in making bad decisions regarding the new regime she was responsible to run. “I won’t trust the new government until they prove they’re not Stockholming us, but I think you need to do what feels right for you.” Torrie shrugged, like KC could take or leave her advice. “We’ll work it out if it turns out they’re worse than Olinger was.” Kevin returned Torrie’s gaze without saying anything for a moment, then finally looked away with another nod. Her words were a good reminder, even if she hadn't meant it that way, of how easily he’d fucked up in the past. This time, he would do things differently. This time, he would think. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ve blown up plenty of things with my family already; I don’t want to do it anymore.” With the food eaten and their conversation winding down, it seemed like it was just about time to be on his way again. After reaching for his bag and rising at the same time all in one motion, Kevin paused for a moment to ask, “What’s that saying? ‘Hope for the best, plan for the worst’? That's what I’ll do. If I register I'll be smart about, keep my eyes open.” He took a step toward the door and then looked back at Torrie with a slight smirk. “No matter what, I'll be generous with my steak sandwiches. Promise. Thanks for talking this through with me, Torrie.” |