december (pins_n_ribbons) wrote in the_dome, @ 2013-04-25 02:13:00 |
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Entry tags: | 03-26-2017, december, december and mannix, mannix |
couch surfing
Who: December and Mannix
Where: her house
When: afternoon
Warnings: language
Though they’d spent quite a while down at the door, Mannix and Mickey had been unable to get it open. It hadn’t surprised him, but he felt better about having tried-- or, more precisely, having watched Mickey try. All he’d done was assist, but that was playing his part. The worst of it was seeing that no one else came to assist, other than the occasional citizen of the dome, just as qualified as Mickey. No real dome mechanic ever appeared, and there was never word that one might. It had been disconcerting.
That night Mannix had stayed with the truck, but if they were really going to be there for a while, then he wasn’t going to continue sleeping in the back seat when a better offer was out. He and Jack moved the truck down to their sister’s house, making it a bit less likely to be broken into due to location, and locked it up tight. It was his assumption that his brother would take his sister’s couch, and he’d go grab December’s if it was still available. With a duffle-bag thrown over his shoulder, he knocked on her door, hoping he’d caught her in the time between sleep and work.
December was awake, though tired. Stretching, she went to answer the door, still in a black tank top and pj pants, hair a little tossled. She opened the door up, then turned around and headed back inside, assuming he'd come in. "So the great door adventure didn't pan out." she said, sounding wholly unsurprised.
Mannix smiled at the sight of her as she opened the door. There was something sexy about a girl in pajamas, but he knew better than to say so, and instead followed her inside, shutting the door behind him. “No, but we gave it our best shot,” he said. “Or Mickey did. I just helped hand him things.”
December walked back over to the island counter, sitting on a stool there where she had some toast and lemonade set out for herself. "So, big waste of time and you're still stuck here." she said. "And staying on my couch." she added, noting the bag he was carrying.
“Naw, I got to bond with Mickey,” Mannix said, setting the bag down and joining her by the bar. “And only if the the offer’s still open. Otherwise, I’m just carrying around some of my shit.” It was still easy to turn right back around and go back to his sister’s, if that’s what she wanted.
"The offer's still open." she told him. "And feel free to have at whatever's in the cupboards." she added. "Bonding with Mickey? How'd that go?" she asked, kind of thinking she couldn't see it going especially well. Not with Mickey being weird lately.
“Thanks,” he said, then began opening cupboards till he found a glass. All he wanted was water, which he’d grown to appreciate inside the dome. He missed being able to trust water faucets. “About as well as you might expect,” he said, filling the glass. “He’s not a fan and I’m not sure he wanted my help, but I had nothing else to do.”
"I don't really get what his problem is right now. I mean, he isn't the world's most fluffy bunny in the first place either, but he isn't usually as bitchy as I am. Most of the time he's just intensely quiet." December told him. "So why now he's opting to go all 'rawr', who the fuck knows."
“I’d say he’s just a wee bit possessive,” he said, leaning against the counter and trying not to smirk, but mostly failing. “He’s been with you a long time. Probably doesn’t like anyone new butting in. Either that or your couch is sacred ground and I don’t know it.”
"I'm getting that." she said, rolling her eyes when he mentioned the possessive thing. "Which, fundamentally I get, but beyond that, not really. Because seriously now. What the fuck. He doesn't get to decide who I talk to or spend time with. I could be wandering the city handing out blowjobs like candy to anyone who wanders past and he wouldn't get a say. He's entitled to an opinion, but actively setting out to back people off? Ummmmno."
“I’m not so easily scared off,” Mannix laughed in amusement. “And Mickey’s not exactly frightening.” It was possible he could be, but then Mannix wouldn’t have remained so calm. He didn’t know December well enough to get in a fight over her, but, like her, he didn’t like being told what to do. “I’d have guessed he was an ex if you hadn’t told me different.”
December smirked. "Clearly." she said, something she appreciated. "He's tougher than he looks." she added, because he absolutely was. Mickey kinda looked like a lost puppy sometimes, but he'd got through the zombie apocalypse with zombie killing skills, not puppydog eyes. "He's acting like one." she said. "But things were never like that. He barely talks to me. When we were out there? Weeks would go by and he wouldn't say word one. I mean, not that I'm the world's most awesome conversationalist, as you've had to have worked out by now. I tend to be cynical at best. So maybe he just didn't want to hear it. But either way..."
“I figured. Most people that survived are.” Mannix didn’t doubt that Mickey could hold his own, but when it came to scaring someone off in a non-violent fashion, he hadn’t exactly succeeded with Mannix. “Well, I wouldn’t call you a ray of sunshine, but you’re honest, intelligent, and provide good conversation if probed. Some people can talk all day and say nothing worth listening to, but I wouldn’t put you in that bucket.” He paused, fingers tapping on the rim of the glass. “Except, maybe, when I’m freaking out about the roof trapping us in,” he smirked. “That I probably didn’t need to hear at the time.”
"Sorry." December said, rare for her. But she got that that hadn't helped. "I don't know how to sugarcoat things, or not share my opinion if something's being discussed." she added. "I never got sugarcoating. It's just a nice way to lie, in my opinion. I'd rather get point blank, both barrels." She propped her chin on her hand.
“No harm done,” he shrugged. “I’ve just never been truly trapped, and when I think of it too long I get kind of skittish, I guess.” He hadn’t known it was an issue until yesterday, when the lack of escape finally hit him. Now, he was dealing, even if he wasn’t happy about it. “I’d rather hear the truth. I’m used to lies, and I’ve told plenty of ‘em, so I guess that makes me a hypocrite. Not my worse sin.”
"Well, you'll get nothing but bare bones truth out of me, whether you like it or not." December told him. "I'm not happy about the doors being shut either. I'm even less happy that it seems like no one has a fucking clue what to do about it. It's fucking ridiculous that we just don't have maintenance people here that can fix shit. Who the shit does that? It's moronic at best, negligently homicidal at worst." She shook her head. "It's fucked up."
“I do remember them saying that these domes were meant to sustain life,” he pointed out. “Lockdown mode was created in case there was some kind of nuclear war going on outside. It would keep the people inside safe. I doubt anyone thought it would be used to trap people in, which you’re right, is piss poor planning. There’s got to be an escape hatch or something, but if we don’t have a maintenance man in the dome, I’m betting the building specs aren’t here either.” He was hoping that they wouldn’t be trapped for long, but it was so hard to tell with communication down. It could be days; it could be weeks.
"Sustainable only works if there's continuous maintenance. Nothing sustains itself without help." December said. "Which is the part that worries me." She was in agreement that there likely weren't any blueprints around for anyone to look at.
“Right,” he said, fingers drumming on the counter. “Like the sun. That can’t keep happening.” He was pretty sure everyone was in agreement there. If the sun went out, they were doomed. “I guess we’re all stuck waiting for right now. If I’m here too long, I’m gonna have to find another source of income. And you’ll probably get sick of me on your couch. I’m just really hoping it doesn’t come to that-- not cause I don’t like your couch, which I’m sure is great, but because of the trapped part,” he grinned.
"Yeah, it's a waiting game at this point." she agreed. "As for a source of income...yeah, I guess I hadn't thought of that. But the trading depends on new goods, which you wouldn't really be getting, I imagine." She took a drink. "Got any ideas of what you'd do? Or how long you would wait til you figure something else out?"
“Yeah, eventually we run out of goods people want.” Most often, they used their earnings to buy the things in the dome that they couldn’t get outside. If they were consumables, sometimes they kept them for themselves, but other times they traded the on the outside. Getting stuck killed their system. “My brother and I have thrown around ideas while on the road, but they all seem rather far fetched,” he grinned. “I’ve considered growing weed, but all I’ve got are seeds. And at one point I think he mentioned opening a brothel, cause you know that’s what this perfect little town needs. Neither are quick start-ups. Well, maybe the sex. Not like you need a lot there to start.”
"Both ideas would work." December said thoughtfully. "And yeah, all you'd need is a location, really. And, y'know. Whores. But something tells me you'd be able to find a few." she said. "As for the weed, You'd just need a sun room. I'm guessing you and your brother would need a place of your own, you could do that at your house." she added. "Shouldn't be too hard to get rolling."
For a moment Mannix could just grin. He wondered how many women would have been as accepting of his answer as December was. Not many, was his guess, but that was what he liked about her. She was different. And she just kept surprising him. “Love how that doesn’t even phase you,” he chuckled. “Yeah, whores we could get. Sun room shouldn’t be that hard, once we have a house. It’s the house part that really means we’re stuck. Which I suppose wouldn’t be too bad, so long as things don’t go completely to shit.” It was a chance for him and Jack to branch out on their own, something neither ever thought they’d have.
"Why should it?" December posed. "People like sex. Not everyone's over whatever trauma they're carrying around from the whole zombies thing. I'm positive there are a lot of people out there who are pretty fucking desperate to get laid, yet can't emotionally get their ass in gear and actually find a significant other or they aren't ready to have one. A brothel would be perfect for all those damaged souls out there, who just need to take the edge off." She shrugged. "And the weed thing would help with that edge too. So, yeah. If it happens that you are stuck long term, I'd go for it."
“Oh, I’m not arguing,” Mannix said. “Those are the reasons I think it would work. Because I think people need it for whatever reason and would pay for it if it was available to them. But I also expect there’ll be a portion of the community that’s strongly opposed. I just don’t know that they can do anything about it if there’s no law against it.” At least, he didn’t think there was. Laws were pretty lax since the fall of structured government. It seemed all they could do these days were build domes, and apparently not maintain them properly. “Could be a nice little business, though. Would you be okay with me growing seeds on your window sill until I know what’s up?” Because he wasn’t going to run out and get a home, but that was one project he might want to get started on, just in case.
December shrugged. "They can suck it." she said simply. "I don't think there is any law against it, and so long as you guys keep it maybe lower key? Y'know, no giant neon signs of giant tits or vaginas around..." she trailed off. "And sure. I'm not doing anything with it. Consider the windowsill yours."
“Damn, I was hoping to use that spotlight. Guess I’ll have to trash that idea,” he smiled. Low key was what he would have gone for anyways. He didn’t need people picketing in protest. “Thanks. I guess I get to find out if I have any kind of a green thumb. You ever grow anything?”
"I used to have a purple like, clover plant thing." December said. "That's it, though. And nothing since the marigolds we grew in like, first grade to teach us about plants. So, you're on your own there. I think it's pretty standard, though. Dirt. Sun. Water. Not setting it on fire."
“That sounds so simple, yet I have the feeling I’ll manage to fuck it up,” he smiled. “So yeah... now I have a plan for staying longer.” It was going to take a while for that to sink in. He wondered what his brother would say, or if he was thinking along the same lines. “Nothing really goes according to plan, does it?”
"Confidence will get you anywhere." December said drily, what with his total lack of it there. She sighed, and shook her head. "Considering zombies happened? Nope. Really not. So, I guess it's 'adapt or die' time. Darwinism at it's best."
“I am normally very confident, but I’m not usually dealing with gardening. Let’s say it’s not a skill set I’ve been honing,” Mannix said. It might have helped if he had been, what with everyone having to grow their own food these days. “You know, I used to think a little Darwinism would be good for the world, but this was taken to an extreme I never wanted.”
"Well, it's not a puppy, so don't stress yourself out too much over it. It won't need you to clean up shit, and doesn't even need petting. Like, ninety nine percent of your time can be spent not thinking about your plant." she told him. "Darwinism is good for the world. Just, yeah. When you're stuck in the middle of some savage battle with stupidity, it gets to sucking."
Mannix laughed out loud, unable to help himself. She was right. It wasn’t a puppy; it was a plant. He only had to give it about ten seconds of attention each day. Surely he could manage that. “You’re right, you’re right,” he nodded. Now, if he did end up killing the plant, it would just be evidence that he never, ever needed to get a dog. “I will say this-- everyone in here has to be a fighter of some kind. They’ve gotta have some smarts, or at least managed to hook up with someone that didn’t mind dragging their ass along. If this is what’s left of us, I’m hoping we’re smart enough to figure out this mess or make the best of it.”
"Sure, let's go with that." December said. Mostly because she was pretty sure he wouldn't want to hear her cynicism again. It wasn't like it functioned for anything but bringing people down. If it happened, it happened, and if it didn't, then it would just worry people for no good reason.
He could tell she was holding back, but Mannix wasn’t going to push her to give him the worst case scenario. He was well aware that things could go completely to hell far more easily and that no amount of hope on his part was going to sway it either way. “I know hope’s not a strategy, though, so I intend to stay armed, just in case,” he grinned. “You working tonight? I heard some business would be coming your way.”
"I'm on call." December said. "Because I came in so early before, I'm just going to head in if there's a body in immediate need of my attention. Personally I'm hoping for a body--I'm tired but I know me. I'll be up anyways."
“I thought I heard someone had a heart attack from the ghosts,” Mannix said. “I guess that’s not all that exciting, but maybe better than nothing.” They probably didn’t need immediate attention either way. It wasn’t like they were going anywhere... though he realized there was a possibility of that these days. Mannix missed the days when the dead stayed down.
"There was more than one cardiac arrest." December said. "So, I was busy all day. But I'd worked all night the night before, then pretty much went straight back in to work, and so..." she trailed off. "On call. We'll see who's got the balls to call me." she said with a smirk.
Mannix answered her smirk with a grin, laughing silently. He doubted there were many people that wanted to bother her when she’d told them not to. December was a little thing, but he could see how her attitude could be intimidating to some people. “Well, if you’re not rushing in to work, wanna give me the tour?”
"Sure. There are vital things to know, like where to piss in the middle of the night." she said, hopping down from her stool. She stretched, then started to show him around her small house. Sure, it wasn't a tour that would take long, but he wanted it. So, he'd get it.
“I figured you could show me now, or I could fumble around in the dark later on,” Mannix shrugged, following her. He could actually see fairly well in the dark, but that was besides the point. “I really just like knowing all the entrances and exits to a place. Just in case.”
December smiled at that. "Knew there was a reason I liked you. You aren't a flaming idiot." she said. Some people got to the dome and felt safe. This guy knew that 'safe' was a relative term at best. For December, she wasn't even sure that word still held any meaning at all. So she appreciated Mannix' reasons there.
“And here I thought it was just my pretty face,” he teased. Mannix rarely felt safe, even in the dome. He was still carrying his gun and his knife, and he would probably sleep with at least one of them on him or in arm’s reach. It didn’t matter that he was in her house, that they could lock the doors, or that the chances of someone breaking and entering were slim. He didn’t take chances.
"That doesn't hurt either, but I'm sure you know that." December said, pointing out the rooms as they went through them. She didn't have that much in decoration in the rest of the house either, just odds and ends here and there. A lot of it was more charcoal artwork she'd put together over the years.
“I know I need a shave, a haircut, and definitely a shower. Have I told you how much I appreciate you letting me stay with you?” That was one of the few things about the trader lifestyle that Mannix wasn’t as fond of, the lack of warm, running water outside the dome. It wasn’t much better in the trader’s camp, but there was at least one public restroom that reminded him of the bathrooms at a camping ground. A real, honest to God shower, with a curtain and a door, wasn’t something he got often. He’d been only slightly better in Delphi, having used his sister’s. “You’ve got a nice place,” he said when they’d circled back to the kitchen.
"Thanks, and you're welcome." December said. "Feel free to have at the bathroom. I'm sure you don't have the opportunity all the time." She flopped herself down on the couch, and got out her sketch pad, opening it up with the intention of drawing. What, she didn't know. "You going to go relax and wash weeks of grime off?"
“I think I will,” he smiled, walking over and picking up his bag. “I’ll probably go out afterwards. You want me to pick up anything? I at least owe you dinner for your hospitality.” It was weird staying in someone else’s house that wasn’t family. Mannix was used to taking things from people, but not in this sense.
"Yeah, hit up a bottle of wine, for...I don't know. Tomorrow night or something." she suggested. It had been a while since she'd drank anything, but mostly because she wasn't going to be a pathetic jackass who drank alone. Company and wine was okay.
“Wine I can do,” he grinned. “Plus, my brother scored some moonshine on a trade. I’ve got a jar and he’s got a jar. Not that anyone goes through a jar of moonshine fast, but it’s an option.” From what Jack said, they had even more coming. Mannix couldn’t imagine what they’d do with all that alcohol if they stayed there. “I’ll catch you later,” he said, waving to her before disappearing into the bathroom.
"Have a good time." she said, amusement in her tone. Then she settled in to draw, starting in on a thorned vine with a spider hidden among the twists and turns.