ŗęd-ђąŋdęd ʝįɭɭ (wmadarling) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2015-06-18 20:52:00 |
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So this Monkey House Cafe seemed like a Wendy kind of place. It carried the aroma of freshly baked bread, chocolate sweets and coffee beans - and a good place to go for a light lunch. And for some light shopping, considering they did seem to sell other things aside from the edibles. The obviously fake jungle tree in the center, for example, was large and elaborate and held a wide selection of stuffed animals (though the correct term was apparently nature babies, according to this place?). Little teacup sets were in the clearance section, and they had an array of other dainty home decor things. Not a place Jack would ever really go to by himself, but he’d seen this place in passing, it was a good place to take her to for the afternoon. It wasn’t far from the beach either, they could make a stop there and always relax by the shore. The ocean wasn’t ruined for him just yet. “Raspberry peanut butter cup,” he said, fingers tapping on the glass of the dessert section. “Yeah, that’s just going to be my lunch.” “Not a very healthy lunch,” Wendy giggled, managing to divert her attention from where clear, blue marble eyes were likely bigger than her stomach - it was hard deciding what to get, however, she’d managed to multitask and rummage through the clearance shelves set up; the result was her picking out a teacup set to purchase. At home she owned a floral-themed one, her prized, hand-painted delicate china, but this particular set was bright red and dotted with cute white polka dots. Sold. “But tasty, I imagine.” She in her ivory frock decorated with colourful blooms, racerback straps, and tawny curls spilling all over her shoulders, carried her selection to the counter. Just so the helpful employee could find the box for it and also set it aside, ‘til her and Jack were done. It seemed like a nice day to take their time with a leisurely lunch, and she had been wanting to spend a proper afternoon with him anyway. “Chicken noodle soup, please,” she ordered a bowl of the comforting kind - it came with a pretzel stick or something, seemed delicious, and because she couldn’t resist a sweet treat she also got a caramel brownie bar. Caramel really was her weakness. When she had placed the order, she tugged on Jack’s sleeve. “Let’s go find a table, we can do some people-watching.” And he knew Wendy would make a remark. He’d expected it. Fondly. Hence the grin. “Very tasty and unhealthy as fuck,” he decided, and made a motion towards the divine construction of chocolate and fruit in question. He received it on a dainty plate with a dainty paper doily underneath, and small fork was engraved with ‘eat me.’ A frozen coffee to drink too, especially since he had his eye on a table outside. Because he could smoke out there. It wasn’t too hot, but the heat was mostly dry and in the distance were palm trees and the sound of waves. “People watching or people judging?” And why the heck did they give him a fork? What was wrong with eating this giant thing of sugar with bare hands? It was big enough to pick at with a utensil, sure. Or maybe Jack was just barbaric and didn’t know manners. Manners, Jack, honestly! Wendy had her bowl of soup and pretzel stick, brownie on its own doily-laden plate and when they were settled outside she unfolded her napkin to place it gently upon her lap. And gave the spoon a few turns through the bowl first, before blowing a little to cool the mouthful. The weather was nice, wasn’t it? She especially liked the soundtrack of the swell of ocean waves nearby; it was comforting, and calm, and goodness. Hopefully her fair skin didn’t burn but alas. She’d probably end up with a pink nose by the time they got back home. “People judging’s fine too,” she laughed. “If it helps perk you up a bit. You’ve been down lately, even Nana has noticed and is worried.” That nurse dog was a stellar observer of moods, especially when it came to her charges. She’d been going for extra furry cuddles with Jack recently. “But things are moving along with Rose?” Yeah, that’s a ‘no’ to the fork, sorry Wendy. He’ll pick up the giant peanut butter cup with raspberry garnish and chomp on it like that, smearing chocolate on his hands like a fantastically delicious mess. “Uh, yeah?” He paused before biting into it, and under her gaze he may have shifted uncomfortably. “She, uh….she knows about the Titanic, knows that it’s sinking at the point where I’m at. Also found out that she was engaged here. Same charming guy,” he explained, clearcut sarcasm when referring to Cal, and then set the dessert down without even a nibble. “She ran away from him and her mother, and if Cal’s the same persistent ass here too, then I’m worried.” He’d framed him, in the dreams. Also tried to shoot at both of them after Rose jumped off the lifeboat, because she didn’t want to get on one without him. Romantic, but stupid. Jack wouldn’t be Jack if he ate daintily (both he and Katou, it was like they’d never seen food before - but Wendy knew that they had also spent a good chunk of their lives not having regular meals too) so she simply chuckled when he looked fit and ready to shove the entire dessert into his mouth in one go. Then an eyebrow lifted, as she lifted the spoon to take her first sip of soup. “If the fiance is the same, then you’ve a right to be concerned,” she said. “But what can he do here? He doesn’t know you and he doesn’t know how completely mad this place is. Hence why if he tries anything, there will be people around to stop him.” Maybe Wendy didn’t look like much, but she’d latch on like a pitbull, with teeth, to anything that tried to hurt her family. Comfortingly, she reached over and patted Jack’s hand. “It’ll be alright.” “It’s actually not me I’m worried about,” he expressed, though he appreciated Wendy’s hand. Something about her was always comforting, and it may just well be that Mother Hen in her. Not that he saw her as a mother, technically, but maybe an overprotective slightly older sister. His own mother had been neglectful. It was more of cleaning the puke out of her hair and inhaling her secondhand smoke instead, but maybe that’s where his own smoking habit kicked in. Now the memory had him craving one, and out from his pocket came the slightly squished cardboard holding his cancerous vice and a lighter. “It’s her. He’s got a temper, and I’ve seen it. And I always suspected he got a little forceful behind the scenes,” Jack sighed. Rose may have never admitted to it there, but he saw it in her eyes - fear. In the end she stood up against him, and here she decided to not go through the marriage out of her own will. But he probably had a fuckton of money and some set aside for a little revenge. Rich guys like that don’t deal with the embarrassment of their fiance running away well. “Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s something. Who the hell knows. But he tried to kill us in the last set of dreams. I got Rose to a lifeboat, he was fucking there of course,” he mumbled around his cigarette as he lit it. “He said he had another boat waiting for us, for me and him, to convince her to get on. I played along, and we got her on it. But halfway down, she had a stupid moment and decided to jump off the lifeboat and back onto the sinking ship with a guaranteed death sentence. She wouldn’t stay on it without me.” The scent of tobacco, burning ash, and the curl of smoke were things that Wendy was well used to by now, from the people in her house and also from James, whose clothes carried the familiar stench after a particularly long night when he stayed up working, usually before having to go to court. She didn’t mind, not really, even if she worried for Jack’s lungs and his limbs and other body parts because smoking was bad for you, that was a well-documented fact by now! “Of course you’re worried about Rose, silly,” she scoffed, breaking off a piece of her pretzel stick to dunk into her soup. “Because she’s part of your life now. But she’s important to you and so by extension she’s important to me. And I’m not going to let some pompous windbag come in and hurt her. I’ll string him up by his balls first, you know that. We all have to look out for each other. You’d do the same if it was my ex-fiance.” Of course, she didn’t have any. But the point remained. She managed a smile, fond and sincere. “And I think it was romantic of Rose to jump off the lifeboat. See, that was her looking out for you too.” Well, hot diggity damn, Miss Darling. Oh, he believed her, too. Wendy didn’t make promises she couldn’t keep, but such words to come out in such a determined English voice? His somewhat sombre look turned for the better, lips curved up into a grin as he fought a laugh. “You little spitfire,” he said, voice dripping amusement, ashes flicked off to the side. “It’s funny. I can feel like complete shit about somethin’ but you’ve got this way of making it better. You’re practically an empathy wizard.” That’s what best friends did, though. They listened, they ricocheted your bullshit right back, gave you advice. And that’s who Wendy was to him; his closest and dearest. Maybe they were complete opposites sometimes (one had manners, the other one still didn’t really know what manners were, especially in the way they were raised, but it didn’t matter. They worked well. “Romantic, and I still say stupid,” he sighed, smoke blowing from his mouth. “But that’s love, I guess. Makes you do some questionable things.” “Yes, it does,” Wendy agreed, and that’s what made love such a powerful thing. It was a whole burst of adrenaline, and it was the light that helped you find your way even when everything was pitch black. “Young and in love, even better,” she grinned; those two crazy kids on the Titanic - they just met, and they were making all those plans. To run off together, abandon everything else they’d known, building a new life. That was a romantic notion itself, wasn’t it? Too bad the bloody ship was sinking. “And you said so yourself, Jack.” She nudged part of her pretzel stick toward him so he would eat carbs. Or something, and if he didn’t start in on that delicious dessert she’d eat it by her own self. “We are dreaming for a reason. Good or bad, you want to find out what happens. All of this - Rose, and her fiance, and whatever else - it’s just a part of something bigger here. It’s still unfolding.” Their stories were far from over - and the writer in her really liked that idea. Wendy was right. Jack knew that. Sometimes he needed someone to repeat those same words when things were bleak - it hazed the mind, clouded everything because all he could see in the horizon was a sunken ship, thousands freezing to death in the waters and him and Rose among the frigid corpses in a sea of screams. Women, men, children, babies. It was fucking terrifying. Taking the hint, he broke himself a small piece of pretzel and scarfed it down his mouth like a boy that never knew what food was. “That’s a good quote,” he complimented, maybe even taking the fork to break apart the raspberry peanut butter cup. Look, he saw the way she eyed it, he wasn’t greedy, he’d share. Especially for listening to his shit. He stabbed a good chunk with the diminutive fork (a whole raspberry included) and held it out as an offering. “You’re the best person to verbally and politely whip my head back on track.” “I’ve got my moments, I suppose,” Wendy flushed, candied pink rising to her cheeks. Her eyes lit up at the offering on the tiny, doll-like fork (how cute was that - no wonder Jack didn’t want to use it, the utensil would be dwarfed by his hand) and she gladly took the chunk, raspberry and all. It went quickly into her mouth, and she let out a siiiiiigh of approval. Coming to this place was one of the best ideas she’d heard all week. “But someone needed to do it. I’ve been worried about you lately too, and so has Katou - even if he pretends like he’s not but he checks on you every morning, did you know?” It was sweet of him. Their former-druggie-turned-literal angel. He was really coming into his own, and Wendy was very proud of him for making healthier choices and studying as hard as he did, to be able to catch up in school. The cigarette was put out and formerly discarded, all so he could finally work on his tiny plate. And the frozen coffee that’d been melting in the sun, neglected. “I know, I know,” he admitted, almost a little guilty. He didn’t want them to worry too much - this kind of thing, deaths bleeding over, it happened all the time, didn’t it? And he’d yet to hear about anyone dying permanently from them. Jack had hope. “Whatever happens, I’ll be fine. I gotta be. Especially with you three - Nana included - hovering all the damn time.” Oh, no hostility in his words at all. It was affection with a boyish smile full of charm,, because underneath that roof of death and dogs that jumped reality, it was the closest thing he had to a family. And family took care of each other, didn’t they? He traveled from spot to spot, never with a clear location in mind but for once, staying behind seemed like a viable option. Maybe not always with Wendy - she’d was with James, the relationship would develop like all of them do - but if they all stayed here then fuck, he would too. In the distance, they heard screaming. And maybe felt the light tremble of the Earth. “Do you hear that?” Family did take care of each other. It was a hard and fast rule for Wendy, who had been raised in a tight-knit family, parents and brothers and their nanny, and the Darling’s had taken in Zelda for a short time too - so she was considered part of that unit just as much. “You’ll be fine, we’ll make sure of it,” she said, and went back to sipping on her soup. Two bites taken, and then that’s when the screaming started. Screeching that was far off, but it seemed to be getting closer and closer. Her ears perked up, and she stood, trying to squint off to see... More rumbling, a shaking. And she was quite sure she saw the top of a building suddenly get engulfed by a large mass. “What...is that!?” A little hard to eat peacefully with all the ruckus, and curiosity engulfed him enough to be successfully distracted from their table of edibles. Jack stood too, hand over his eyes to block the rays of blinding sun to get a good view. It was something, and then a crowd of people began to just run towards them, cars honked and crashed against each other in a hysterical frenzy of what the fuck. Then that gargantuan mass of something took shape, with its multiple legs and arachnid body, and that’s when Jack opted to ditch the fucking food and grab Wendy by the wrist. “Yeah, let’s not stick around to find out. Or get stepped on. MOVE!” It was like something straight from a monster movie. Wendy would almost pinch herself to see if she was asleep or not, but all it would take was remembering where she actually lived. Didn’t that speak for itself? The throngs of screaming masses, the path of destruction - and yes, of course, the gigantic spider that was devouring the wreckage as it moved, kind of just sucking it all up into its body in a tornado of debris. And! Alright, she very much agreed that they needed to get out of here. “Toward the car, this way, you can drive!” she insisted, her hand clasping tightly around Jack’s when they took off running - and she was fast in her ballet flats, don’t be misled. They’d parked a couple of blocks away and the sooner they got in and away from what was sure to be a massive clusterfuck in the streets, the better. “Jack! How’s your adventure racing?” she asked, tossing the keys to him. They couldn’t fight off that spider, but she trusted their getaway skills? As if he expected the responsibility of being behind the wheel, Jack caught the keys in the air and quickly got them in. Time to fasten those seatbelts and fucking bolt. “Good question,” he said hurriedly, sticking the silver into the ignition and revving up the engine. The car roared to life, and right before cars began backing out, he reversed quick with the tires screeching and burning against the cement, beating everyone out. “Because we’re about to find the out.” Transmission now into drive, ocean blue eyes flickered to the giant fucking beast that run amuck, like something out of a Godzilla movie, and he hit the pedal and drove. “I feel like we should have machine guns to shit it while we hang out the window, to kind of complete this escape plan we have going on, shit!” Jack probably did not look very manly behind the wheel of Wendy’s cute little purple Miata, but when you involved giant spiders in the equation, who honestly cared? She buckled up as soon as they were in the car, and clung to the appropriate ‘oh shit’ handles as they burned rubber and peeled away from the scene of the insanity. She didn’t even blink for a moment, essentially just holding on for dear life and quietly, internally having a panic attack. Goodness. “Machine guns?” Her face paled. Oh god, do not look in the rearview mirror. Do not. Bad idea, bad idea! “Well, you’re right, perhaps - “ It was complete chaos; she also thought she saw a woman with multiple facial piercings and multi-coloured dyed pigtails running across the street but that may have just been a hallucination. “Perhaps they would be useful, because that was a humongous spider, where did it even come from??!” Possibly, she was going to throw up. Driving through the mess that was human panic was officially a pain in the ass, probably just as big as their current monster dilemma. Dodging car wrecks, dodging living people (the last thing Jack wanted to be responsible for was vehicular manslaughter in a time of crisis), and hold the fuck on because he turned on a street, sharply, the car almost spinning around if he hadn’t hit the breaks and controlled the wheel on time. “Guessing from the direction,” he began, concentrating heavily on making sure they didn’t die in a crash or get squashed (the fucking irony) by a spider of literally monstrous proportions. “The water. I’m beginning to think nothing good comes from the ocean at this rate. Icebergs, spiders that could fight fair with Godzilla, what the hell’s next?” Jack hit the horn with his palm, over and over, until his current obstacle - a drunken biker gang waving a sock - spread apart to allow him through. Normally Wendy would protest, because she quite liked the ocean even if she was far too British and ivory-skinned, thus being all too susceptible to burning lobster-red, but giant spider? She had to agree this time. Nothing good came from the ocean! “It’ll be awhile before I recommend a trip to the beach,” she concurred and....what on earth was that gang of leather-clad bikers??! They looked like Santa’s lost, disgruntled elves. “Left at the light, it’s a bit of a roundabout way but it’ll get us free from the madness on these streets,” she advised, plotting the map out in her head - well, she at least knew her directions, that much was helpful. And really, she was fine with breaking any and all traffic laws now. What police officer would pull them over when there was an eight-legged beast out there eating buildings?? Which reminded her.... “It was a huge spider eating buildings.” Cheque, please, she was quite finished with this day. And she felt a little bad that obviously people were being injured but what good would she be against that thing anyway? It was flight or fight and she wasn’t stupid enough to pick ‘fight,’ heavens no. Without question he followed her directions, the grip on the steering wheel so tight it looked like his knuckles nearly turned white because he’d been checking the rearview mirror too. He had to, to see how much distance he’d put between that and them, but the new way they’d been going had streets free of people and just a few couple vehicles who had the same line of thought. Speeding well over the legal limit, running stop signs and more suburban traffic lights and he’d be damned if he didn’t, either. “There’s a huge spider eating buildings,” he repeated, reality shitting bricks on him, and he finally let out a deep gust of breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Now he drove with a little more relaxation, but his nerves were still on fire because what the fuck? Jack freed a hand a dug into his pocket for that box of cigarettes. “I know you don’t smoke, but I really wouldn’t judge you right now if you partook in one too.” Smoke? Jack was offering her a cigarette? Her?! No, no. Wendy detested those things - they smelled awful and caused cancer, not to mention a variety of other ailments, and stunk up your skin and clothes and would stink up her car too and - “Give me one,” she said firmly, pulling free a coffin nail from the pack. She lit it as quick as she could, coughing up a storm after the first puff. Blah. Now that her throat was on fire and everything - why did Jack even like these things so much, anyway? The unanswered questions still didn’t stop her from sucking back the toxins, quickly, burning through that lovely stick of death. “How are they even going to cover up the giant spider eating buildings??” The ‘wild animal attacks’ and the ‘drug addicts’ and the ‘LSD in the water’ were all one thing, but this... Oh, Orange County. Wow, she actually took one, didn’t she? Jack had to remind himself it was rude to gawk, especially since he’d been responsible for navigating the wheels of their escape, so after that initial surprise passed he refocused, contributing to the cloud of smoke spreading in the car because of course he fucking would. “Giant government robot malfunctioned?” He suggested, but the fuck would he know? It’d be interesting to see their spin on events regardless, and after a last look at that rearview mirror, they were in the clear. Officially escaped the stomping path of a monster beast that rose from the depths of the ocean. Sighing, he leaned back against the seat, suddenly very drained. “Let’s go home and get a drink, and hope this thing doesn’t decide to eat the house too.” |