Marc Russo (bluelined) wrote in remains_rpg, @ 2017-02-08 17:24:00 |
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They were out of coffee beans at the house. Maybe not the most alarming situation for some people, but the Reed/Singh household lived on coffee. Torrie probably would have just written in on the fridge and hoped someone else would get it, but she knew she wouldn’t last through the next day if she couldn’t start it with caffeine. It was just, well, she really hated Walker’s. And that had moved all the shit in the aisles around. Just fucking perfect. Which is why she’d been scowling at the signs hanging from each aisle for at minimum the last thirty seconds, but in actuality it had probably been closer to a minute. Seriously, who the fuck thought it was a genius to re-do the store? Had it been some overhaul after the zombie shit last year? “All I want is some goddamn coffee beans,” she muttered, puffing out a sigh. “Not fancy shit, just something I can throw in a grinder to make a decent cup.” Weren’t there supposed to be employees walking around assisting people? Torrie hadn’t seen anyone wearing a Walker’s apron since she came in the front doors. In fact, the only one around was a man who made to enter the aisle in which she was currently standing, but he turned -- almost as though he realized he needed something somewhere else -- and made for another aisle. His maneuvering nearly paid off until later, in aisle four, when they came face to face with each other. Even though he'd spotted her first, before she'd realized who else was in the grocery store with her, Marc's first glimpse of Torrie in three years was still a surprise. Funny how someone he'd known so well was now a complete stranger, but he figured that was his doing. “Russo?” Torrie blurted out, surprised and a little angry if she examined it more closely. “What the fuck.” Goddamnit, she had to be seeing things. Marc Russo and his brother skipped town after Sister, no fucking way he’d come back to Austin. No fucking way. Her fingers curled tighter around the bag of coffee beans she’d been carrying; gratefully she’d found them just before the shock of her morning. Fuck, probably the shock of her month, if she was being honest with herself. It took more self-control than she would admit to anyone (but KC) to not wing the bag of beans at Marc’s head. “Fuck you.” He put his hands up in self defense, just in case; she looked awfully likely to hit him, and if he knew Torrie at all he knew she was more than able to make him hurt if she wanted. They'd done enough damage together for him to think she'd take it easy on him if they weren't in a fucking grocery store. "Hey, Reed," he said placatingly. The urge to back up the aisle was strong, but he forced himself to stay put and listen to her rage. Even still, it was damned good to see her again. “Hey, Reed?” Torrie repeated, her tone edging further into angry and frustrated. “That’s all you’re going to say? You fucking skipped town, asshole.” She’s far from rational, although believe it or not she was trying not to make a scene. It was one thing when Miz left, grief was a fucking weird beast, but when Marc disappeared she figured that she’d never see his cowardly face again. They could have used him, and hell, even his brother. Maybe shit wouldn’t have been as bad if they’d had more clear thinking Ghouls left in the tunnels. He nodded, hands still up. There was no point in denying it, anyway, and he'd always been a mostly-honest person. "That was pretty fucked up, yeah." Marc didn't regret it; not when he'd nearly lost his life the day Sister had died. Not yet, anyway. “The drugs are gone,” she snapped sarcastically, leveling her voice to something that almost passed for normal. “No fucking thanks to you.” "Drugs are gone and the Hellhounds are playing nice?" Marc replied, his voice even. "Didn't exactly win all the way, then, did you?" She wondered if he could hear the way her teeth ground together. “Didn’t fucking lose either.” Torrie wasn’t tight with any of the Hounds, but part of Austin these days was accepting that they weren’t going anywhere. Not to mention the fact that their VP had saved her life. That wasn’t something she was going to say to Marc in the middle of a grocery store aisle while she still wanted to lob coffee beans at his smug face. “Amnesty is fucked up, but I didn’t get a fucking say.” Torrie crossed her arms. “Maybe you would have, if you’d bother to stay around long enough.” "Doubt they would've listened to a Ghoul like me, or any other Ghoul for that matter." That was the way things had always been, anyway; admittedly, Marc didn't fully know what things were like now, but why should he have any reason to suspect otherwise? "Never heard of any kind of 'decent government' that'd let drug dealers and murderers get off scot-free." He gave an insouciant, full-bodied shrug. "Sounds like nothing's changed. They even have an election for that Mayor or did she appoint herself, just like Olinger?" Bristling, Torrie narrowed her eyes. “She was appointed by the President, as far as I know.” Annoyance dripped from every syllable. She liked Nina, and she thought Kevin’s sister was doing an alright job as mayor. “You haven’t even been around, how the fuck do you get off making a statement like that?” Nothing about Austin was fucking perfect, but there had been improvement. “If you had maybe you’d see that you’re being an asshat.” Taking a deep breath, she weighed whether to say and fuck up her day that much more, or turn on her heels. It wasn’t cowardly to walk out of a conversation. It wasn’t. "And we trust the President's judgment on things?" After all, look at where that had gotten Austin before. "They were gonna kill me if they found me, Reed, what the fuck was I supposed to do?" With their supplies from the Capitol cut off, they'd been outnumbered and outgunned. Marc knew all too well how stories like that ended. Still, there was a part of him that hated that they'd left Austin the way they had -- just like they'd left Baltimore. Marc was batting 2 for 2 on abandoning cities and friends, and though he'd mostly broken the habit, for a moment he couldn't help but think of his wife and family. Were they dead now? He faltered for a moment, stuck in the full blast of Torrie's disapproval, before regaining his balance. "Sorry, okay? I'm an asshole. You always knew that." “But you didn’t need to prove it,” Torrie returned, almost vibrating. Sure, they might have come after Marc, but Torrie had lived with that reality too, and she hadn’t left. “You didn’t need to fucking prove it,” she repeated. “Jackass.” She felt powerless in the moment, and angry enough to cry. But she wasn’t going to do that in the middle of Walker’s and add one more reason to why she disliked the store. Clenching her fist, breathing through her nose, she gave him the full power of her glare before she threw at him, “Fuck you. Enjoy Austin.” With all the sarcasm she could fit into two words, and finally, finally turned around and walked the other way. |