ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟɪᴇsᴛ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ (weaponizing) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2017-09-25 13:48:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, dan smith, gamora |
Who: Dan & Gamora
What: Braving the oddness of the weather manipulation temple's effects to stop by Dan's - where he's got his own rain cloud going on
When: Today, 9/25
Where: The Double Tap
Rating/Warnings: Pretty tame!
Status: Complete
One thing Dan hadn’t really taken into considerations while he’d been doing his remodel to the Double Tap was the roof. And apparently the roof leaked like a siv, a discovery Dan had only made that morning when he’d awoke to find his apartment and the bar below very wet and getting wetter by the moment. Venturing outside, Dan had found a rather angry storm cloud had settled over head, just over his bar. A look up the street and it was all sunshine and happiness over the Slater Slums. A look down the street was the same. But all around the Double Tap the rain came down in torrents and lightening ripped through the air, immediately followed by thunder so loud it rattled windows and made car alarms go off. With said thunder and lightning, going up on the roof to make any necessary repairs was out of the question. Dan was a thrill seeker, but he wasn’t suicidal. So instead of going out and fighting the invasion of mercenaries – which would have been fun considering no one was going to be setting foot in his bar while that was going on -- Dan was stuck at his bar doing damage control. Every pot, jar and bucket he could find was currently being used to catch water as it dripped. There was so much leakage that it actually looked and sounded as though it was raining in the bar. Fanfuckingtastic. Between bailing and attempting to fix the leaks from the inside, Dan was looking like a drowned rat at about midmorning. Rarely did Gamora actually need to wear a jacket outside but today was one of those days. Boots also, to combat against piles of fucking snow of all things - in her neck of the woods, it was a winter wonderland. However, just a few blocks over the sun shone all cheery-like and smiley. Mocking. She didn’t understand this weird weather so it was all essentially an exercise in patience - she had to tell herself that the towers that popped up were taken out after a day or so, and hopefully this one would be too. The mercenaries apparently associated with Charon Industries weren’t exactly dissipating in number, but it was good target practice for her. When, today, she wasn’t freezing her ass off. Even a violent sort like her had to pause and check on the few friends she had, though. And maybe guzzle from a bottle of tequila, thus, it was off to find a certain friend who owned a bar so she could kill two birds with one stone. Gamora went down there to assess - only she wasn’t expecting an onslaught of rain when she arrived. The kind that was all muddy water in motion, deep puddles, diagonal sheets carried by the gusting wind. Like that rain meant to just keep pounding until they were all smudged, figures from a Monet painting. It was bizarre. Luckily her jacket was versatile - good for rain and snow. Boots sloshed their way up to the front door of The Double Tap, and she was pretty soaked when she entered the place. “Dan??” she called, shaking her hood so fat droplets of water fell off. That mainlining of tequila could come later. It was apparent he needed some help right now. Barefoot and looking like he’d just taken a swim in one of those fair-ground dunk-tanks, Dan was up a ladder in the middle of his bar, precariously straddling the very top, a set of nails between his teeth and attempting to hammer a board in place, while the leak immediately behind him saw fit to drip water straight down his back at a constant enough pace to simulate Chinese water torture. The sound of droplets hitting all manner of containers was nearly deafening and Dan didn’t even hear the front door open. He did hear Gamora calling out for him, however, and he looked down to see the green-skinned beauty as she entered the bar. Bless her for braving that god forsaken storm. “Gamora!” He called down, a smile spreading across his face, thinly disguising how fragile his patience with the day had become. “Come t’ ‘ave a drink, ‘ave ye, darlin’? Ye be the only customer I’ve ‘ad all day.” He gestured with his hammer towards the bar behind him. “ If’n ye kin ford the Ocean Smith, by all means, ‘elp yerself.” “To have a drink, yes, and also to check on you,” Gamora replied, taking her jacket off and finding someplace...mostly dry to hang it. Felt like they needed Noah’s magical boat all up in here, and they could sail off. Now that she was in her tank top, it was apparent she hadn’t bothered with her glamour. The jacket covered her thoroughly, and she doubted with all the stuff going on a green-skinned woman with razor-sharp cheekbones would really attract that much attention in the scheme of things. Made sense to follow Dan’s example and just go barefoot. Bending down, she unzipped her boots and took them off and also rolled up her jeans a bit so the bottoms wouldn’t drag. “I’ll take a shot and then give you a hand - what do you need me to do?” First she did go for a shot and true to her original plans, it was tequila. A swallow of pure gold and something that warmed her, which felt nice after the wind and freezing cold water. Dan sighed and looked helplessly up at his ceiling. He’d managed to haphazardly patch up several of the leaks, but for everyone he patched, another seemed to appear out of nowhere, as if the water itself was so desperate to get inside, it was boring right through his roof. Dan had overseen the remodal of the bar, had even gotten in and gotten his hands dirty, but for the most part, he’d hired people who knew what they were doing to do the work. Dan was many things, an actual handyman, with tools and wood and shit, he was certainly not. “I donnea even know,” he sighed. It was his hope now that his insurance actually covered the damage already done and maybe, if he was lucky, he could get a new roof out of the deal. Right now the only thing he could really do was cross his fingers and pray Carolina and her brother deactivated this Temple before Dan drowned. Another sigh and Dan climbed down the ladder. The floor wasn’t completely covered in water, but Dan’s feet squeaked against the wet floor regardless as he made his way towards the bar. “Gimme a shot too, wouldja?” “Sure,” Gamora chuckled huskily, pouring Dan some of that golden ambrosia for him to knock back. “It does seem to be like - you patch a hole, another pops up. Like whack-a-mole or something.” Had to be extremely frustrating, though when this was all said and done hopefully insurance would pay for a new roof - something that wasn’t like Swiss cheese. She glanced up thoughtfully, contemplating. The temple wouldn’t be up for much longer, if the pattern kept up - it’d be gone by the end of the day, so, there were hopefully only a few more hours to deal with. “Why don’t we just move what’s valuable - “ If anything was valuable? Maybe not here, but perhaps in Dan’s apartment, “...to a safer spot and then you can find someplace else to stay tonight? I’ve got a guest room.” It’d be drier, at least. Warmer. Even if the temple was deactivated, the bar would remain waterlogged because of it. Now that he wasn’t running around like a fool, Dan could feel fatigue starting to set in. He gratefully took the shot Gamora had poured for him with a “thanks” and knocked it back clean in one gulp. Lightening flashed outside immediately followed by a crash of thunder that seemed to shake the walls of the bar itself. Gamora was right. Even if Carolina was able to deactivate this damned temple, the bar and the apartments upstairs would still be dripping wet. Another sigh and he pointed to the jukebox in the corner – the new state-of-the-art touchscreen job he’d used to replace the old one that refused to play anything but Come On Eileen no matter what buttons you pushed. Dan had already unplugged it and wrapped it in plastic in order to keep it as dry as possible. “That’s the most expensive thing in the bar.” He said. “An’ I think it’ll be awright if left there. Fer now.” So long as the rain stopped tonight. Upstairs, Dan’s apartment was about as bad as the bar itself was with as many containers used to catch the water, even going so far as to use mugs and the coffee pot. The one thing in his apartment that he feared losing was his rather extensive library of books. In a mad dash, he’d gotten most of them up off the floor and stacked anywhere a leak didn’t seem to be dripping. A good number of them were second hand he’d bought used from the local buy-sell-trade store in town, all dog-eared with yellowed pages, not worth much money, but to Dan, they were everything. “My books,” he uttered with a hint of apprehension of what they might look like now. “If ya donnea mind ‘elpin’ me box’em up. They should be alright in my car for the night.” Dark eyes moved back to Gamora, “ye wonnea mind puttin’ up wit’ a guest t’night?” She followed Dan up the stairs, glad that the jukebox would be safe covered in plastic. It really was a beauty and it’d be a shame to lose such a relic. It’d be a shame to lose books too, so she sprang into action to gather some from where he’d stacked them. There were piles all around his apartment, it looked like, on surfaces that were higher-up and covered. Still, the sheer amount of wetness in the air - the humidity - couldn’t be good for them either, especially if they were old and the pages were delicate. Moving them someplace else would be best. “Of course, I’ll help box them up,” she said, already carrying a few. She couldn’t help but study the titles - it was interesting because she wouldn’t have pegged Dan for a reader, but the fact that he wanted to save his books was actually endearing. Peter would have been the same way about old cassettes and vintage records that were obsolete. “Do you have any tape? We can just tape the tops closed. And I definitely don’t mind having a guest for tonight. I may be a bitch but making you sleep in a puddle is pretty bad even for me.” Gamora was teasing, gently, her smirk quite amused. Dan had a few Rubbermaid containers left over from his initial move. Currently they had been repurposed to catch water dripping from the ceiling, but Dan decided using them to store his books was far more important. At this stage he couldn’t stop the damage that had already been done. So he reclaimed the containers, dried them out with every towel he had and then once satisfied that his books would be safe and dry within, set them down. “We kin use these,” he said already carefully setting a few books inside. The truth of the matter was that Dan was an avid reader and he read everything. Aside from watching the news in order to stay on top of current events, he didn’t have much use for TV. He wasn’t in the know about the latest shows or the newest season or what network was currently on top, and he didn’t care. Occasionally he’d watch a documentary of some sort on his laptop, but for the most part Dan just read. His books were eclectic and portrayed a wide range of interests; everything from non-fiction to classic literature. He had pulp novels, science fiction, mysteries, thrillers, collections of fairy tales and European legends. He had works by Shakespeare, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, H.P. Lovecraft, Truman Capote. There were even a couple of books of collected poetry by Stephen Crane and Edgar Allen Poe. Another clash of thunder seemed even louder in the apartment and shook the windows so hard it seemed as though they would shatter. The lights in the apartment flickered, struggled, but remained on. “Aye…” Dan said wearily. For the first time he really did not want to spend the night here. “I appreciate yer help, darlin’.” Rubbermaid containers were even better - they weren’t soggy, like wet cardboard could potentially be. Gamora nodded, moving to put her handful of books into one container and gently stacking them. Like those books were made of delicate china as opposed to paper. At least she knew what to get Dan for a gift at some point, Christmas or just because or whatever, after realizing that he was a voracious reader. Peter worked for someone who dealt in rare, used books - black market ones, probably, but that didn’t matter. Maybe she could find something unique for her friend here. “It’s no trouble,” she assured - and then more thunder, another cracking boom. The lightning she didn’t particularly like either. It was a shock-white rip in a sky that resembled graphite. How weird that it was only over The Double Tap and not the surrounding area - one of the wonders of the OC; she’d just learned to go along with it by now. “By my building, it was snowing but the heat works and we can use the fireplace.” She had yet to have a need for it, however now was a good opportunity. “The craziness has been a little off the charts these past few days.” Invasions Dan could handle. Aliens, storm troopers, demons and the undead…. Fighting and killing things was just something he did. The random bursting into song hadn’t been so bad, despite Carolina’s twanging trill lingering in his ears days after the event had ended. But how does one fight a storm? Spoiler: you don’t. It was these types of things Dan had a hard time just rolling with. “No joke,” he muttered. Another rumble of thunder drew Dan’s eyes upwards towards the ceiling. “It’s snowin’ at yer place, is it?” Snow was quieter than rain, at least. And it rarely thundered when it snowed. Having a nice dry and warm place to sleep sounded better and better. “I appreciate ya helpin’ me out,” Dan said as he snapped the lid on one of the containers. “Anythin’ I kin do fer you?” “Nothing I can think of,” she admitted. “Eat all the Hot Mess I’ll no doubt make? It’s what people in Hawaii made when it was rainy and muggy. It’s a broth though, seems like it’ll be good for bad weather.” On those rare days when the weather happened to be anything less than paradise. Sometimes it stormed, though naturally it never snowed. This was the first time Gamora had even seen snow and it was pretty novel to her. Weird to see it in southern California, but whatever. She’d be glad to have a guest though. Deep down, she missed the departed Guardians who had moved away - she’d been keeping the spare room just in case, and to actually fill it would be nice. “Come on, let’s go,” she hefted a few containers into her arms. “No sense in staying here another minute.” Something warm to eat would be amazing. Dan was absolutely drenched to the skin and now that he wasn’t constantly on the move attempting to keep his roof from drowning him, he was starting to feel an unpleasant chill. The type that could seep into your bones if left unchecked. Already Dan’s shoulders were starting to shiver. “Aye, darlin’, I’ll eat whatever ye make,” he promised. Even something as simple as broth sounded wonderful, though he doubted that was all it was. He could recall a recent visit to Gamora’s in which she had treated him to all sorts of delightful edibles she’d made. She was an excellent cook. “A hot broth sounds really good ‘bout now.” No joke there either. But, yes, there was no sense in staying at the Double Tap any longer. Time to go. Dan stuffed a change of clothes into a duffle bag – something dry and comfortable to change into once he got to Gamora’s and had the chance to shower and dry off. After a moment’s consideration about this business of snow around her apartment, and Dan got a sweatshirt and a heavy coat as well. Just in case. His colt also found its way into the duffle. Never leave home without it. “Aye, I’m ready,” he said as he placed his bag in the last remaining container and hefted the whole thing up. He paused at the door of his apartment, giving it one last look at the dripping ceiling, various vessels close to overflowing scattered all over the floor, a ruined couch and mattress, at least his books were safe. “Let’s go.” |