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WHO: Drifter | Various
WHAT: Monthly Post
WHERE: Around Dualis and in the Swamp, More might be added
WHEN: January
WARNINGS: Probably violence and some food issues.

A.) IT'S NOT BRAIN SURGERY
CLOSED TO LORNA
DATED TO AFTER THIS

He's not happy to have learned what's in his head, and honestly? It's worth the risk. What if it kills him? He's got too many damn things in his head already. Does he want that big AI having access to any of 'em? Nah.

He's compared the Head to Rasputin before. Now, he puts a lotta stock into the endgoals of the warmind; more stock than he'd put into any real person. The thing wants to fight the darkness, and hell, it doesn't wanna get used by the Vanguard! Who wouldn't agree with that? And it reaches far and wide in its conflict, stretching its sattellite tipped fingers to the edges of their home system.

But the Warmind? When it decided to copy people, it was volunteers. People who donated their memories and way of thinking to create immortal warriors of a kind. Even there it one-upped the Head; when it saw it was losing the war, it let 'em all go to go do their own thing. Some of those 'exo's it made, robot copies? Became the greatest badasses that third rock from Sol had to offer.

But even then, catch Rasputin in a mood? Bust in on him where you're not wanted? And there's hell to pay. The Warmind stuffed some damn fool Iron Lords full of nanotech when they decided to breach one of his facilities and take weapons without asking. Personally, if you ask Drifter? Don't be a damn punk and think you're slick enough to fight a centuries old AI with a fist and an ax. Didn't work out too well for those Iron Lords.

Drifter doesn't much want to turn out like those poor fellas. Even if none of the voices in his head come along for the ride, even if his ghost refuses to get attached to some smartass just because it looks like him, he doesn't like the idea of his thoughts and memories just spilling out to where it doesn't belong. The moments he held little Yu through her dying breaths are just as much his as knowing how to access paralell universes. He doesn't want the Head to have either. He doesn't want the Head to puppet him to use that for himself.

So? How about a trial run he thinks. Rip that thing out, see if he comes back. Tell that pretty little thing with the shaved head if he makes it. See if she's willing to risk standing up to the pressure. Let his ghost scan some brains. That's the plan and it sounds good to him. Now to wait for his surgeon. On a rooftop. Best place to get a voluntary head injury.

B.) SWAMP MONSTER HUNTING
OTA
DATED EARLY IN THE MONTH

He'd heard about the swamp, but hadn't got to investigate much. Time for that to change. Out there were definitely parts he needed for additions to his weapons, and he was ready to go exploring and/or hunting.

He's back in his armor, big furry shoulder pads, leather(ish) chaps, thick belt with his hand cannon tucked into it and all. Somewhere between space traveller stereotype and old lone traveling warrior. Drifter's pretty good at wearing his business right upfront. He doesn't lie about what he is.

Can't be blamed for what people get themselves into.

Unfortunately, at the moment, getting themselves into something means they're gonna be marsh treading. And he needs the fangs off a man-eating swamp seal. Honestly, better than the alternatives. It could be gators. Could be boring, too, which is even worse. He's out in the swamp with a rented boat (that clerk, by the way, seemed keen on asking for insurance because he seemed to be pretty sure it wouldn't be coming back). There's some squishy ground to walk on, though, and he's abandoned the craft for the moment to travel that.

C.) SWEEP YOU OFF YOUR FEET
CLOSED TO NICK
DATED TO EARLY IN THE MONTH

He's been prepping and making weapons for the Heart for a couple of months now. And, to be honest, it isn't fair to the lady that's been kindly enough to introduce him to them that his focus has been mostly on them.

He shows up late at the bar, just when Nick's about to get off work, and slams his hands on the bar. This time wearing his Western fusion shtick, at least, not looking like a ratty space mechanic freak as he knows he damn well can.

"Come on, Darlin'. I wanna show you somethin'. No time like the present." And maybe he can tell her about the damn fool, if successful, thing that he did for himself.

D.) SO I HEARD THERE WAS A MAN WITH A FORGE
CLOSED TO SEIFER
DATED TO JUST AFTER NAPS

Drifter can generate his own heat and some minor transmatting. Honestly? Makes it a little easier to be a wanderer with his work. But generating ones own heat is exhausting. Work work work, all the time. It's drawining, and he has to wait a good ten, twenty minuted between big surges. He's about sick of that.

But, apparently, there's some fella with an actual forge out there. And Drifter? Needs a piece of that sweet action, thanks. He follows word of mouth in his own particular way (some shady deals, some strong-arming, some fair trades of 'useful' goods) until he finds the man and his forge.

He makes a pretty blatant show of not sneaking in. He just wants to be friends here, right? They got a lot they could do for one another. Who is ol' Drifter to pass up some alliances with potentially talented people. It could work out just fine for the both of 'em.

Trust.

But, he's gotta admit, this is a tad more mannequins than he's used to. Hell, last time he saw mannequins standing around in a deteriorating setting? They were target practice for Fallen. Spoilers: It didn't help 'em. He gets to the front door of the 'recycling center' and knocks... and thinks he hears a dog? Damn, now he doesn't even know if it's someone's pet or an actual person.

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Even before her sidequests through the multiverse began, Nick knew that fair was more or less a fantasy. It’s a simple fact that’s shaped her worldview from childhood, a tenet she doesn’t question - life isn’t fair, end of story. She’s abandoned most of her aggressively pessimistic outlook over the past few years, but this single truth remained, steady as a healthy heartbeat.

She doesn’t fault Drifter for not visiting her more frequently - he’s a busy man, and she’s never considered herself anyone’s priority. It’s a pleasant surprise when their paths do cross, and she has only a warm smile for him when he turns up at the bar tonight.

“Hey, Trouble.” Yeah, looks like that nickname isn’t going anywhere just yet. Only the last few last-callers remain in the bar, and two of her coworkers are still on the clock. She can get away with cutting out a little early, though she makes an exaggerated show of thinking over his request.

“Yeah, guess I could do with some seizing of the day,” she says, grin widening across her face. “Or night, whatever. Lemme just grab my coat.” She disappears into the back room and yells to the remaining bartenders on duty that she’s taking off for the night, then re-emerges a minute later, pushing her arms through the sleeves of a slightly faded dark-rinse denim jacket as she navigates around the bar to join Drifter.

“So,” she says, winding a thick black hand-knit scarf around her neck, “what did you wanna show me?”

Edited 2020-01-09 05:18 (UTC)

He waits for her to get back out to him, before grabbing her by the wrist and just saying, "This way!"

And if it weren't for the fact he was grinning like a cat with a canary, it'd be more worrisome. Well, maybe that is worrisome, but it's somewhat tempered by the fact he flips off a vehicle that honks at them with a non-chalant, pissy air.

"Just be patient, almost there." There's a business with a fire escape on the side, and an accounting and investment office with a protruding garden window ledge. Its there that he puts one of her arms around his shoulders, one of his around her waist, and warns her, "Gonna need you to hold on!"

And he kicks off the ground.

It's like he jumped but gravity just forgot to kick in in time. It's not rocketting into the air, but it's not exactly slowly wafting upwards either. He catches his foot on the fire escape, the window ledge, an air conditoner, and then on the edge of a fourth story roof.

"This high enough or do you wanna do this higher?" He motions to another bulding about a quarter of a block away, still not having let go yet.

Nick doesn’t need to be told twice to hold on - the second Drifter takes off from the ground, she has both arms wrapped tightly around him, fingers curled into the fabric of his clothing. He’d mentioned being able to float before, but that claim had fallen far into the background in light of what came after the talking that night. Nick squeaks with surprise and turns her face into the side of his neck, laughing as they rise higher into the air.

“Oh my god,” she says, gasping a breath in, eyes finally open to take in the view, “you are a menace!” Her tone is amused, her words affectionate - she doesn’t mind any of this a single bit. It’s both strange and exciting; she’s never done anything like this before, but she’s enjoying it immensely, heartbeat racing with the thrill of being literally swept off her feet.

“I trust you not to drop me,” she says, with a laugh in the back of her throat. “Higher.”

"Then hold on, we're goin' up!"

He hefts her enough to make a run for the edge of the roof and then leaps. There's a huff of hair, the sound you'd imagine wide wings making when a bird takes off. The noise that accompanies each leap he makes.

He does arc down at some point, the lift wearing out, but he's already made it far enough to land on an exhaust chimney and propel them up to the next obstacle, and the next, until they make it to the trellis of that building.

Then a few more hops from side to side, using his feet to catch edges on the scaffolding, and he plants her on the roof briefly while he gets his bearings of the layout up here. "Let's see...." he mutters, scratching his beard. Exit door, right. Exterior shed. Two rooftop garden sections. A couple of parts higher than others.

He can work with this.

Nick hasn’t been able to hold back her delighted laughter since they left the ground, and she only stops to catch her breath when Drifter sets her down on the rooftop, wide grin still stretched from one side of her face to the other.

“That,” she says, still half-breathless, “was amazing.”

She hasn’t felt this particular brand of joy in a very long time. Even though their upward ascent wasn’t a fast one, Nick can’t help remembering those summer afternoons when she was a small child and her father would take her barreling down gravel roads in his well-worn truck, singing old favorite songs with her as cornfield after cornfield sped past the open windows. The trip skyward just now filled her with that same sense of dizzying elation she remembers from those treasured childhood memories, and it’s the closest she’s come to reclaiming that feeling of inner peace in the decades since her father died.

She turns her head to scan out into the city from this height, taking in the shape of the skyline, the new patterns of lights. It’s one hell of a view, and she smiles all over again.

“Was this what you wanted to show me?”

"Yup. I usually don't try to be too flashy, but there ain't exactly a lotta Lightbearers around and who can resist a good show!" He spreads his hands and spins on the rooftop, gesturing out at the view with his duster flaring out with the motion.

"I know I ain't the only one that can fly, but it seems like people who ain't themselves-" the doubles "-don't much like coming up here. I don't see 'em floating up as high as someone who'd enjoy it." Though it could very well be that his choice of floating at night in a relatively relaxed city catches up to him.

He chuckles to himself again, settling down from his little performance and finding a place to perch on.

"Watch over there!"

He points off in the distance as whole blocks slowly, silently shift around. Even if it's creepy, there's a sort of awe in his voice. "I've only seen Cabal do that aboard big ships. Nothin' on the ground."

He can take joy even in the wonder his enemy provides. He can also flip off the temple from here, too. Which he does, ruining everything else about the celebration.

She laughs again and gives him a round of soft applause in appreciation of the performance - like a golf clap, not sarcastic but genuinely delighted. He's a good showman, even if Nick's the only audience he's got.

Her gaze follows where he points out into the city, and she steps a little closer to the ledge of the roof. "Shit," she whispers, eyes wide as she watches the city rearrange itself. "I knew this place moved around, I just never seen it happen before. Like watching a clock, y'know? You can sit there and stare at the minute hand barely moving, but you look away and next thing you know, it's an hour later."

She manages to take her eyes off the shifting skyline and turn to Drifter instead. "Thank you," she says, still smiling widely. "I never would've come up here on my own."

"One good thing that's come from travellin' as much as I have. You learn that high perches help you see..." Of course they also make for easy headshot targets but that'd spoil the mood.

"So. I ain't got a radio. You'll have to provide the music." He extends his hands to her, readying.

"Would you like to dance?"

And for once he's not actively expecting to get thrown or have someone throw something at him.

... Oh. That's right, she did say she would've danced with him at the ball if he'd asked. In the delirium of the rest of that night, she'd nearly forgotten about it, but Nick remembers now, and that delighted smile she's wearing stretches even farther across her face.

"I'd love to," she answers, cheeks warm and heartbeat fluttering as she steps forward and takes his hands in hers. "And I got a real good song in mind."

Nick takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, searching out the memory of the beat to the song she's selected. She nods and counts off a few silent beats to herself, then begins to sing:

Let's dance
Put on your red shoes and dance the blues
Let's dance
To the song they're playin' on the radio
Let's sway
While color lights up your face
Let's sway
Sway through the crowd to an empty space

And If you say run
I'll run with you
And if you say hide
We'll hide
Because my love for you
Would break my heart in two
If you should fall into my arms
And tremble like a flower

She starts to sing and he kicks them off the ground again. There are a few things raised on the roof. A pipe, a radiator, the exit door from downstairs. They work perfectly for him to catch his feet on and keep her in the air.

He spins them lightly, his coat flaring gently with every turn, taking care to keep her feed off the ground even when he does sink downwards. Whatever is powering him can only keep him aloft so long.

He looks as though he's enjoying himself, though, smiling at her singing with a grin that, while not exactly pleasant, isn't quite as sharp as it usually is. Maybe he's just happy she actually took up up on the offer of a dance.

Nick didn’t attend any of her high school dances, and part of it was because doing anything sanctioned by the majority went against her lone wolf teen rebel image, but the other part of it? She knew no one would dance with her. No one even bothered to ask her to go to the event with them. What would she do if she’d gone alone - stand by the punch bowl and glare at everyone else having a good time on the dance floor? Nah. Why would she willingly subject herself to that kind of public brush-off? Better to just reject the whole thing before she had a chance to be rejected. She’s many years past high school now, but she still understands the thrill of being chosen, even for something as simple as a dance, and that’s a thought that warms her thoroughly from the inside - that Drifter has chosen her for this. It’s not a familiar feeling, but it’s a good one.

She continues singing through the song’s end - quietly, delicately, because the words she sings tonight are for Drifter alone. This is a much more intimate performance than she typically gives, but that means it’s something special, just for him. Floating high above the city like this makes Nick feel like they’re the only two people inhabiting this weird, neon-lit place, like she can forget for a few euphoric moments about the malevolent forces attempting to eradicate them and just lose herself in the way he smiles at her and the way it makes her heartbeat skip.

The song ends, and Nick’s silent for a breath, grinning, dizzy with delight. Then she turns her head to murmur at his ear: “Thank you for this.”

He finally settles her down to the rooftop, the air around them still very faintly shimmering until he's landed, when it clears.

"You looked like you needed the chance to fly." And he? He wanted for once in his life to have someone say yes to a dance with him. Now, he never really expected a woman to do it, he was always in it for the fun of asking. But let's be real. It's nice to have someone think you're at the very least acceptable. And Nick? She seems to think a might more than just that of him.

"So should I make you take the elevator back to the ground or do you wanna do it the dangerous way? 'Cause I'm up for either."

"Y'know? I think you're right - I did need that."

Not just the freedom of floating, high above the city rooftops - not just the sturdy warmth of being held close by someone she likes a lot. Doing something simple, something normal, something to pull her out of her mind and the thoughts therein, the awareness of so much danger lurking not just in shadows but directly out the light as well. This dance? Was perfect, and Nick leans in to brush a kiss at the corner of Drifter's mouth as another expression of thanks.

She doesn't think he's merely acceptable - there are seeds of stronger feelings for and about Drifter taking root deep in her heart. He's like a magnet she's drawn to, a flame beckoning to come closer. In her eyes, he's not acceptable - he's exceptional.

"The dangerous way, of course." Why the hell not? She trusts him.

He steps to the edge and holds his arms open.

"Come on! Big hug."

A simple demand, but he knows he's gonna have to hold on tight. And in the unlikely event that neither of them are holding on tight enough, well...

Guess he'll have a lot of apologizing to do.

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My response to this tag apparently didn't go through. >:[ And so I type again.

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