. (spacecowboys) wrote in repose, @ 2018-05-31 20:54:00 |
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Entry tags: | *log, cat dubrovna, jack penhaligon |
[Jester's Court: Cat & Jack]
Who: Cat and Jack
What: The Jester's Court
Where: The Capital
When: Fuzzy timeline, but before returning to Jersey.
Warnings/Rating: D for Disco.
It was after dark, and Cat had come into town to land some good oil. He'd gotten some powder, too, though it wasn't his usual thing, but desperate times and all that, and he knew he should get back to Jersey. Damian had gone fucking nuts, which meant Helena was alone at the manor, potentially speaking Czech to the servants and threatening to set them on fire. Or, maybe, possibly, Helena wasn't even there anymore. Cat had no way of knowing. What he did know? Was that Eddie was gone. Eddie was gone, and Stephanie was understandably gutted, and Cat had spent the past few months living on Eddie's couch. He'd always been close to the riddled man, but now it was a kind of bigger thing, at least for Cat, and he didn't know what to do with that. He was still himself, but he wasn't, and he wasn't sure what to do with that either, and fuck everything. So, oil acquired and a good buzz going, and he was headed out of town when he noticed the traffic headed out toward where the old amusement park was. Sasha had liked that place, or so Cat remembered, and so he had the driver u-turn. There were so many cars in the parking lot of the abandoned amusement park that the place seemed to be open. The place was a testament to different times, sprawling and with the skeletons of rollercoasters decaying. A ferris wheel slumbered, and the horses on the carousel had fallen over in their old age. The midway featured fluttering streamers of rotted fabric signs that promised real mermaids and strongmen, and the games and food carts echoed eerily with silence. It was a dead place, but the cars in the parking lot were new. Cat told the driver to wait, and he walked up to the turnstiles. Curious, curious, and Cat approached tarnished silver with an old-school cigarette in one hand, a beer in the other, and denim and tan over white. No sooner had he stepped through the turnstile than the world changed, and why the fuck not? Everything else was a fucking mess, and why not this? Except it didn't look like a mess. Inside, music played loudly from the games and food area, and people wandered by in bell bottoms and with feathered hair and afros. The place was crowded, loud, alive, and the ferris wheel turned, and the carousel horses were resurrected. Mingling with these people were normal people in kicks and Levis, and Cat stood still a moment before shrugging. Why the fuck not? |