Something something about smoke coming out across the ceiling from the library. And Penny BANGS out the door and declares “I’m going out.”
Something something about Hiro in a chair hooked up to something with wires, pants around his ankles, a roll of pennies in his mouth. He, too, declares “I wanna come.”
Something else like: Penny says “So come,” sly? Did she know what he was up to? Hmm. “Nobody’s stopping you.” She fiddles with the door. Something something about the other magic word, KET, to open the door.
Nothing happens.
Penny looks up at the uncooperative door. Her eyes move from edge to edge, then spots it "Who set the deadbolt?"
Hiro loses the wires and pulls up his pants, fiddling unsuccessfully with his belt. He looks up at the question, and promptly looks away. "I didn't want to be interrupted," he answers coyly, stripping off the rubber gloves. "Let's go."
*click*
Industrial - Factory
-= Jones and Lynx =-
To the west the more residential area is left behind while the long stretch of road spans towards the east. The apartment buildings and other stores of consumer goodness dwindle to nothingness while warehouses start to appear every so often. Many of the old factories that have become the namesake of the district have ironically closed down to instead become storage for different goods.
The street becomes more and more filled with holes, the pavement wearing thin and causing vehicles to bounce up and down on the pot holes. Quite frequently large trucks can be seen making their way down the roads. They haul lumber, paper, or some other material out to their destination, be that one of the local warehouses or the docks. During all hours there are the sparkle of lights, both day and night shift available in most of the factories that are still in operation.
Obvious exits:
Cowpunchers
===============================| +IC Time |================================
Current Time: Mon Feb 02 23:09:15 2004
Time of Day: Evening Weather: Sleet
Moon: Waxing Crescent
===========================================================================
A bar that has a good few cowboys milling about it.
Hiro makes his way into the Cowpunchers.
Hiro has left.
You make your way into the Cowpunchers.
Cowpunchers - Main Room(#1194RIJMs)
Loud country music assails the senses, issuing forth from a jukebox in the corner. Leaning over the bar next to the door must be 'the newcomer', a man around 55 years old. He's usually cleaning the bar with a rag when he's not drawing a beer from the taps in front of him. The usual liquors are available on the shelfs behind him, reflected in the mirror that says "Cowpunchers" with a red hat tipping up in a ya-hoo move over a lassoo.
Weekday evenings, this bar is filled with older men, having a sociable drink before going on home to the wife. But on weekends the place fills up with the factory workers relaxing before the dreaded work week comes once more. At these times it gets rowdy, when the cowboys that still live on the ranches to the east of here clash with the factory workers. Most fights wind up on the street, out of respect to the owner's age, but occasionally the cops have to be called in.
Contents:
Hiro
Echo
Ingrid
Kiet
Dennis
Matt
Petra
Obvious exits:
OOC> Dennis says, "Sorry, guys, the 'Puncher is pretty much ICly closed for a family get-together. :("
OOC> Penny says, "lock the door?"
You make your way to the streets outside.
Industrial - Factory
-= Jones and Lynx =-
To the west the more residential area is left behind while the long stretch of road spans towards the east. The apartment buildings and other stores of consumer goodness dwindle to nothingness while warehouses start to appear every so often. Many of the old factories that have become the namesake of the district have ironically closed down to instead become storage for different goods.
The street becomes more and more filled with holes, the pavement wearing thin and causing vehicles to bounce up and down on the pot holes. Quite frequently large trucks can be seen making their way down the roads. They haul lumber, paper, or some other material out to their destination, be that one of the local warehouses or the docks. During all hours there are the sparkle of lights, both day and night shift available in most of the factories that are still in operation.
Obvious exits:
Cowpunchers
Hiro comes out of the Bucking Bronco's doors.
Hiro has arrived.
Alabaster Smith comes into the area from the east.
Alabaster Smith has arrived.
Hiro *zzzp*: he's tugging on the zipper of his pants, having just christened the entrance to Cowpunchers to express his disdain for the locked door. The closest bar in town, and they lock the doors. Lam-O. "You got a cigarette, Penny?" he asks, turning away from the offending establishment.
Alabaster Smith is just in time to catch that interesting little act as he wanders down the street. An eyebrow quirks.
Penny pats herself down. Jacket pockets first; outside, inside. Jeans. Breast pocket. Nothing. Then she digs around in that bag of hers. "Lucky you," Penny tugs out a silver cigarette case; hard to miss what glitters on the outside - the initials VAV. Flips the case to Hiro and digs around for matches or something, finds something else instead. The way her hand slows, stops and tenses sends out the 'wrong' vibe "The fu- I swear to god if that fucking monkey's been in my bag..."
Alabaster Smith seems, it might seem, to have been headed for Cowpunchers, but his attention is diverted by the unusual pair, who he studies in some brief detail.
Hiro pauses, cigarette case snapped open, fingers poised in mid-air. He gives Penny a sidelong look, shows teeth. He's the only one that seems to get a kick out of the chimpanzee. Looks away, then, to hide the expression - busines himself with fitting a cigarette between his lips, patting himself down for a lighter. Snap - there's one, flourescent orange bic. Spark - flash - inhale.
Penny stops, pulls her hand out - clean. "You're so fucking sexy Piggy," walks up to him, takes the lit cig from his mouth while he stands there, electric in some way. His charisma goes a long way with her, it would seem. So right. Penny walks up to him, steals his smoke and fixes his pants and shirt for him. Buckles his belt. Puts a hand through his hair.
None of this is sisterly.
"What'd they say when you went in?"
Alabaster Smith quirks an eyebrow again. "Pardon me," he calls. "Is the establishment closed, or are y'all just hanging out?" He's got one of those Deep South accents you can scrape roadkill off the grill with.
"Barn party. Livestock, no pants, bad scene." Hiro directs this at Smith, over Penny's shoulder. Simultaneous response, like. His hair doesn't improve with Penny's ministrations - it's a lost cause. "Heypennsygrabthefortyouttamybag," he mumbles, jerking a thumb over his shoulder.
Hiro pages: record bag. No records. A forty ouncer and a zip-lock bag full of pills and powders.
Clearly Hiro's hands are useless. Or useful but only in a very specific manner for a very specific task. Penny circles him, cigarette burning down in her mouth, works the knot out of the twist-ties keeping the record bag closed on his back. She tugs and tugs. And tugs. Gets her hands down in it, small rattling, plasticky rustling noises slither down the uplifted glass fourty ounce-er. She keeps her hand in the bag, murmurs something into his ear.
Alabaster Smith watches the Hiro and Penny, expression amused yet mostly neutral. "Ah see. A barn party. Hmm. Pity, Ah was hoping to save some souls and get a drink."
"Blue goes down, red goes up, yellow goes sideways." Hiro reaches back - plucking the cigarette from between her fingers. Hits it, long and hard. Exhale around the words: "The rest's self-explanatory." He beams inexplicably at Alabaster - ashing his smoke in the gutter. "You wanna hit the forty, preacher?"
Penny and Hiro are to the left of the door to Cowpunchers. Penny is smoking even though Hiro has his hand out, waiting for that cigarette to be returned. Her hands are otherwise occupied, a fourty in one and the other deep in his record bag. Her mouth couldn't be closer to his ear otherwise she'd burn him.
"So I says to 'r, I says... Ma'... don' bother me now, man, I got my headgear on..." To avoid having their conversation rained out by this abysmal weather, Pobble and Cash are sticking close to the sides of buildings. They approach in a conversational gate, Cash getting wet away from the protection of Pobble's super villain umbrella. He walks head down, watching his feet tromp through puddles in the production of micro tidal-waves. Cash continues the end of his antic dote trailing his fingers over the memory of his orthopedics aids.
Pobble strolls. Or rather, he would stroll were he not king pimpin' and combat booted. So its more of a strut. Well. It would be a strut if he weren't so obviously wasted. Lets call it swaggering. All S's, so lets call him shitfaced. Pupils agape, if they were mouths they would be the mouths of persons who had just seen the ghosts of their long dead parents, agape, all slack jawed. The irises have given up hope and gone into hiding. A cigarette dangles precariously from a thin lip as if stuck there with superglue. Another cigarette clings for dear life to his begloved silver tipped fingers. The umbrella is held waveringly, the black and white alternating segments twisting around through some wrist action chicanery.
Alabaster Smith smiles broadly at Hiro. "That's a generous offer, Brother, but Ah shall pass for the moment. Get me started on preachin' and Ah might need it later."
Hiro continues to drag on his imaginary cigarette - only, hey, now it's real - Penny's a thief and Hiro's smoking all her cigarettes. The attractive silver case drops into his pocket. Fresh flash of butane flame, flashed peace sign at the approaching duo. "Oi, assholes," he greets.
Penny hasn't seen Pobble or Cash yet, isn't even aware that the cigarette's gone - must be holding her breath or something. She tugs him and the bag back into the uncovered light outside the door to the bar. "Nnnsweet. I need.." She palms something out of his bag, pockets it and lets go of the straps.
Under the thin awning, Penny sneezes. She puts the other hand back in her bag, digs.
Hang Loose. Loose indeed, since the gesticulation brings about the downfall of the tragically fated cigarette between Pobble's fingers. Appropriately the finger-formation is replaced with a request for another cigarette. Brain catches up with reality, and fingers find the substitute cigarette on the lips. It is removed, after a long last-cigarette-on-earth drag. The rain-pearled umbrella toting yeti flashes a most charming smile as he moves with his companion to stand near the dastardly duo outside Cowpunchers. "Good evening, my droogan brothers. And sister." As he says the latter, he eyes Penny with a strange look. It's about half a mile away from enviousness, and three quarters from lust. Pobble taps his nose, and the expression vanishes like Houdini. "What transpires in the shadow of the house of slaughter?" he asks dreamily.
"Far out." Cash throws some fingers in pairs to Hiro and Penny, accompanied by a complicating ghetto sign ending in a *snap*.
"Whadda ya..." The rest of this greeting is interrupted by something square that grabs Cash's attention as his steps have taken him into proximity. Soaked jeans cry when he bends down to pick up said shiny blue square. Flipping the lost BlockBuster's card in his hand, he eyes it as a prize and nods to himself. It ends up back in Pobble's chest, handed over to the space cadet. "We should check into this." He whispers back, then "Whadda ya doin'.... man." for the two loiterers and company.
Echo comes out of the Bucking Bronco's doors.
Echo has arrived.
Echo steps through a void into the OOC Nexus.
Echo has left.
Alabaster Smith watches the others, studying them with a pleasant, unchanging smile, choosing to remain silent for the moment.
So now Hiro has two cigarettes, and he doesn't even notice it. Reality can't be as muddled as his head: teeth bared in a grin, squeaking with grinding-away enamel. Happy birthday. Both smokes wedged between index and middle fingers of the same hand, burning against one another. He jerks backwards at Penny's insistent tugging, stumbles, nearly falls back. Doesn't seem to notice, aside from an untrusting look aimed at the treacherous ground--
--attention snaps up. Fixes, somewhere between Pobble and Cash.
"Reckon them shitheels closed their cow club to us cattle rustlers, pardner," he drawls. Then, in more appropriate english: "So we've taken our sex and drugs to the street, where it belongs."
Jon comes into the area from the west.
Jon has arrived.
OOC> Jon waits for an idea of the scene before jumping in.
Hiro and Penny are on the doorstep of Cowpunchers. Hiro's smoking two tandem cigarettes: Penny's behind him, rooting through her bag. Pobble and Cash approach across a stretch of asphalt, Smith stands off to one side, scrutinizing. The vibe is manic, crazed, drug and drink fueled.
Penny was eyeing the corner of the building; specifically the darker, more sheltered area. Interrupted.
Pobble.
Penny moves sideways; away into some shadow only to be headlighted. There's a look - a fast gesture waved to them, to Cash and Pobble - not a good-bye. She seems to find her spine a minute later and calls to Pobble The Bear "You just stay the fuck away from me," she points with her left hand "you stay away," backing away, a tremor in her voice, hissing "He said it wasn't /time/.. Hiro keep him away from me.."
It takes a while for the idea to leave his cranium, some grand plan for free porn rental using this found BluckBusters card. And true to this, Cash seems detached from this group for a few beats as this scheme works it's self out. The obvious catch being, BlockBusters doesn't carry porn.
"Fuggin natzis... They don' even have porn, man." Cash utters in disgust, turning back to his friends that brave this weather. Of course without a mainline view of the inner workings of this drunkard's dome, these words are meaningless and out of place. "I'm still cookin' ya know. I got some mad kabob I put together."
Pobble, standing with a giant black and white segmented golf umbrella to stave off the downpour, stands near Smith, Hiro and Penny. Eyes that are suggestive of some kind of drug induced haze channel surf, flicking between the pair and the static fuzz of no-person somewhere between them which is only visible to the befurred man. An approximation of outrage crawls onto his features, but it's definately a half-arsed effort by the muscles. The desired look is missed, and the expression that shows up in it's place is more like.. senile old man thrown into bath of jam. Penny's actions cause him to step back a few, raising his cigarette holding hand palm outwards. "I haven't come for it. It's not time." Somewhere in the London drawl there is a sympathetic tone of apology. A blue blockbuster card is dropped into a pocket.
[Public] Eri has joined this channel.
Huh? (Type "help" for help.)
[TIC] Penny (Thursday) says, "Speaking of Steampunk, Wild Wild West is on TNT."
[TIC] Pig Boy (Saturday) says, "nice"
Jon comes up the street with an umbrella over his head. The umbrella is black, and says 'Interzone Records' on it. He's walking at a good pace, a mostly smoked cigarette in hand. He pauses as he gets close to Cowpunchers and drops the cigarette butt on the soaked sidewalk, stubbing it out with his boot. He pulls a pack of Marlboro's from a pocket along with a black Zippo lighter. He removes a cigarette that's just a touch crumply from being in his pocket and straightens it out with his fingers. Once he's finished he lights the cigarette and puts the pack along with the lighter in his pocket. It takes a bit of work and time, but he gets it. Just his luck, that the minute he gets it all worked out, the rain stops. He mumbles under his breath as he exhales smoke. "Fuckin' rain."
Hiro looks away. Just like that - not his scene. Flicks something into his mouth, riposte off the thumb of his left hand, tips his head back for a long moment to catch some dirty rainwater - wash it down. Hard swallow of minimal liquid and something small'n knobbly. "Lovely day, inn't?" he asks Cash, after a moment: passing off his second, longer cigarette. It's a sad, soggy affair - barely burning with its twin.
It's not a particularly welcome offer, but Cash accepts it none the less. If not only to fulfill the symbology that weighs it, but to continue the pass eventually over to Pobble. Perhaps the unhappy and wet cigarette can snuggle up with a BlockBusters card and spoon a bit. "Whatever. This place never stops with the rain. And I need some more red soda, fugger." A search begins behind the denim flap of Cash's jacket and ends when he pulls out a flask to unscrew.
Penny discovers a ledge to lean on and positions herself where Pobble can't see her face. She disappears along the side of the building using Hiro as a shield. Her voice thins to a sometimes heard rant about time and it's meaning for another five minutes.
Then it's quiet. As the rain stops, there's a sound of something metal hitting the blacktop; and rainwater sluicing off the roof, tapping that metal in pairs of clinks. Other noises; interior distortions of conversation and music and one shuttle of gravel under a sliding foot.
Pobble takes the cigarette, it finding a home next to the cigarette he already has lit. Taking a puff on both at once he seems to look straight through Hiro at Penny for a moment before shrugging his rain laden fur clad shoulders and focusing his attention back on what blocks his perception of what he was seeing anyway. Umbrella spins, splaying out droplets everywhere and with a deft flick of the thumb it pops down as he angles it into some empty air. He sounds suddenly tired, swaying with the motion of demasting the rain deflector. "They kicked us out? Christ. I've not even been inside yet and they kicked me out." He'd sound angry if he diddn't sound so drug addled. "This is, an outrage." Sucking again on both of the cigarettes he twirls, swinging the brolly up under his arm like a baton. Looking about as if for a manager, he nearly spears Hiro with it's overly pointed end.
Jon puts his cigarette between his lips and puts his umbrella down. He exhales more smoke as he removes the cigarette from his lips. "Fuckers in there comin' up with reasons to kick people out?" He says it loud enough for anyone around to hear. He pushes his glasses up his nose. "Sometimes I wonder why the fuck I bother walkin' my ass down here." If he notices any hint of drugs in Pobble's voice, he makes no sign of it.
Hiro jerks back, recoils from Pobble's Penguinesque assault upon his person. He looks back and to the left (back, and to the left...): flicks the remainder of his cigarette off into the gutter. Buckle-down of the snaps on his record-bag. One last look between his partners in crime. Then, gone, not a word, retreating around the side of the bar - mumbled words, scuffle, straining noise, thump of meat against wall.
Alabaster Smith may be a preacherman, but so far he hasn't shown any signs of objecting to the presence of booze, tobacco, or other drugs. He just keeps to himself, watching, listening, keeping dry.
Enid comes into the area from the west.
Enid has arrived.
From afar, Hiro tries to get you to your feet and against the wall, so you're not all sprawled out in the dust. Then books inexplicably.
"I hope he's goin' ta make soda..." Cash watches the techni-colored lab coat stalk off in silent retreat. Rain still dripping from the tip of his thrice broken nose. The presence of a preacher man settles, hunched outside an establishment of ill repute amongst scallywags. Long hair is parted, the better for Cash to see with. And above the fallen Penny and besides the wet fur man, the drunk drinks from his flask and smiles.
"Hey man." Cash offers to evangelic watcher.
"Bastards." says Pobble, turning to look towards the entrance to Cowpunchers. "You're all a bunch of bastards." He doesn't shout, and any trace of anger has dissapated. Mustered with the sucking of two cigarettes and expelled with carcinogens to the wind. An umbrella pokes from under his arm in a manner that still threatens to skewer the unwary as he turns to Cash, casting a perplexed look at Penny along the way. "Oi reakon," he begins, but then turns to nearby Jon, "Do this often do they?" he asks, voice fading in the brief five word question from curious to apathetic run off. Hand swings in a wide arc, palm open, cigarettes dangling. Apparently he wants Cash's flask.
Alabaster Smith dips his head. "Brother," he replies to Cash. God only knows what Smith's reasons for staying are. Maybe he just likes the ambience.
Everyone stands near Cowpunchers. Except Penny, who's slunk into a niche. Cash seems Drunk. Pobble looks fucked and sometimes agitated. Penny is hiding and rambling.
---------------------------------[ Glance ]---------------------------------
Enid................Punk rock Goldilocks. Skinny. 20ish. Half-finished tattoos.
Height: 5' 4 Weight: 110 lb Age: App: 2 Cha: 4
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jon.................Tall, lanky young man with a slender build and very dyed hair.
Height: 6'3" Weight: 145 lb Age: App: 2 Cha: 2
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Pobble..............
Height: 5'10 Weight: 140 lb Age: App: 2 Cha: 3
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cash................
Height: Not Weight: 177 Age: App: 2 Cha: 2
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Alabaster Smith.....Tall, thin, red-haired, blue-eyed, well-dressed
Height: 6'1" Weight: 170(?) Age: 30 App: 2 Cha: 4
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Penny...............Tall. Hot. White hair.
Height: 5'9" Weight: 123 Age: App: 3 Cha: 3
-----------------------------------[ - ]------------------------------------
Jon chuckles, smoke coming from his mouth in little puffs as he does. "S'like anything else, man. Bunch of uptight bastards decides they wanna keep a certain class of folks out, they'll come up with any goddamn reason to do it. Doesn't even have to make sense." He shrugs it off. "I've been kicked out of my share of places cause people didn't like my look. Whatever that fuckin' means."
A moan.
A hand then. On the cornerpiece of the building.
It must be Penny where Hiro propped her up before he ran off. No explanation. Nothing. Man left in a big hurry. From experience, some know that's never good. The hand, Penny's hand, keeps readjusting itself like she's clinging to the edge of the world.
Penny rolls 3 (3 dice) at a difficulty of 6:
<6> 4 3
Achieving 1 successes, resulting in a marginal success.
Enid rounds the corner, swinging her motorcycle helmet in one hand and whistling. Oh, somebody's in high spirits. You'd have to be in high spirits to try to whistle out a melody from psytrance. She passes in front of Cowpuncher's just in time to hear Jon opine about The Man keeping him down, a complaint that she answers by bumping into him with her shoulder. "You!" she says. "I don't like the look of you, Sickert. You're ugly an' you smell funny an' I wanna cigarette." She's at least thoughtful enough not to help herself to contents of his pockets, instead she extends a hand and wait. Of course, as she's waiting the realization slowly dawns on her that they're not alone here, at night, in front of a nightclub. She gaze darts self-conciously from one side to another.
Long distance to Pobble: Penny is channeling god, talking to it. Penny's done a massive quantity of herion to achieve this calling-forth. I'd roll to sense were I you.
Pobble rolls 4 (4 dice) at a difficulty of 6:
<10> 5 5 2
Achieving 1 successes, resulting in a marginal success.
Cash rolls 3 (3 dice) at a difficulty of 4:
<5> 2 <8>
Achieving 2 successes, resulting in a moderate success.
"So like... what're you doin ova there, Penny." Someone finally comes round to it, as Cash hands off his flask to be hit. Pobble gets a ripe whiff of the stuff, it's running down each side of the silvery flask and mixing with the rain water. The denim man steps over to where Penny makes sidewalk angels.
"Get yer act together... man." Cash tries to coach the girl back off the cement.
"Damn the Man. Next thing you know Music Town will take over." Enid's arrival brings a wonky smile to Pobble's lips with a sideways nod. "Awrighty." he says, and then he twitches just a little. As if a bee had just stung him in the side. It's not pain however that flash-marks his features but.. a look of loss. It dissapears as quickly as it came. While still facing Jon and Enid, eyes swivel to look sideways towards Penny's hand. Harsh drags on the twin cigarettes, in the waiting-for-scentencing fashion. Arm with umbrella takes flask. He begins to turn, suddenly appearing confused.
Jon bumps forward a little as Enid shoulder blocks him. "Well, I don't like your looks either bitch, and you dress funny." All the same he pulls out his slightly crumpled pack of Marlboro's and black Zippo and hands them to Motorcycle Mama Enid. "Here. I'm not gonna fuckin' light it for you." He tries to look stern and offended, but he can't help it, a bit of a smile tugs at the corner of his eyes "Where's your bike?" He pokes her in the leg with his umbrella.
Enid loops her arm through the faceplate of the helmet so as to free up both hands for cigarette-lighting. She bends her head down and cups her hand around the Zippo, not that it needs protection from any stray breeze. "'Round the corner," she says, tossing the lighter back to Jon. "Good luck findin' parking out here on a club night." As her tunnel vision expands to include the rest of the crowd in front of Cowpunchers, she smiles up at Pobble - the sort of sunny and beautific smile possessed only by children and happy drunks. It wavers in the face of Pobble's confusion, and Enid turns that expression on the white-suited Alabaster Smith. "Reverard," she drawls, exhaling smoke. "You've wandered a bit far from home, haven't you?"
Alabaster Smith smiles at Enid broadly, giving her the full attention of his personality. "Sister," he declares, "Ah am at home anywhere on God's green Earth. What brings you here?"
It pours out of her, an eerie language so gutteral at times it could be finnish and so sharp it may be japanese but it's definitely not english. The tone of the conversation Penny carries on seems to be a series of questions, one after another, sometimes interrupting herself. Tongue too full and heavy to round out the words properly. Penny stands up again with Cash acting as ballast, dry heaves and coughs. Too many pills. Or something.
With a last double drag, the twin cigarettes are flicked away bouncing off the wall to fizzle out on the rain drenched sidewalk. Pobble's look of confusion snaps away as he takes a swig from the flask in his hand, causing him to drop the umbrella which was held by his elbow. Itching palms it seems, now free fingers rub at the red gloves and looking back to Enid he says "Sorry. Bear with me a second." Tone has shifted to verging-on-sadness as he turns to head over to Penny, placing a supportive hand on her shoulder. Eyes find Cash, and he asks "Whaddshe have?"
You whisper "It isn't time yet but it keeps .. moving. Circulating. Like it's in the blood. . and it just wants to slip out." to Cash.
[TIC] Pobble says, "You saying anything understandable?"
[TIC] Penny (Thursday) says, "Enochian"
[TIC] Pobble has Enochian 3!
Jon continues to draw on his cigarette. He shoots a glance at Smith as he talks to Enid. He adopts his best 'bad ass' posture, though he is far from bad ass in appearance. He doesn't make any aggressiv moves or anything, but he gets that big brother pose by Enid, protective. "Who's your friend in the suit Nid?" As Penny heaves and coughs and Pobble speaks, his attention turns there.
[TIC] Penny (Thursday) is asking where it came from, where it will return to, what it wants; those things we never worked out that night on the beach.
Enid leans against Jon, not necessarily because she has any difficulty standing, but because cramps her friend's attempts as bad-assittude. She taps ash off of the end of her cigarrette. "Just takin' in the local color, Reverend. That's the Reverend Alabaster Smith, Sickert," she says, gesturing towards the man in the white suit. "Here to bring salvation to the great unwashed masses. Say hello to the nice man. He ain't gonna bite," she teases, but her sunny mood is short-lived as Penny begins to dry heave and speak in tongue. "Well. Shit." She looks to Pobble for confirmation or reassurance or, well, something. "She alright?"
Matt comes out of the Bucking Bronco's doors.
Matt has arrived.
OOC> Matt says, "whups.. not here. sorry."
Matt makes his way north.
Matt has left.
"I dunno man. Mebbe she's the one that drank the last of the -red- soda." Helpful, much like a mailbox, Cash's center of gravity is low and provides Penny with rock in her trouble turbulent existence. Though the Cash ship sways over its anchor, but it's never uncontrolled in its drunken stupor. With an economy of movements, Penny is twirled and stood straight in an Aikido dance move.
Alabaster Smith grins toothily at Jon, and offers a hand. "Evenin', Brother," he greets. "As the lady says, Ah'm Alabaster Smith, a humble man of God here to do His works." He glances to Penny, eyebrow arching, as if affronted that she might show him up. "Ah do believe the Lord is sending us a sign."
Jon kind of casually leans forward and shakes Smith's hand, his attention distracted to Penny now. "Hi, I'm Jon Sickert." He keeps watching Penny even as he brings his hand back, "Red soda, booze, fuck man, she's on something. And I don't think it's friggin' Jesus." He lets Enid lean against him with no problem as he drops his cigarette to the ground and stubs it out. "I don't know what this would be a sign of, other than some people can't handle their shit."
Alabaster's interjections bring a curious look from Pobble. Although the situation doesn't seem to be all that humorous, his lips twist into a sardonic smile. "You have no idea." he says. Passing Cash's flask back to it's rightful place - Cash's hand, the unobvious humour passes and he nods to Enid with a reassuring 'Trust me, I'm a Doctor' look about him. "She'll be fine." From a pocket, Pobble pulls a handful of something, picks one, deposits the rest back and presses whatever it is into Penny's hand. "You'll be fine Pens." he says again, pulling a half drained plastic water bottle from another oversized pocket and giving it to the woman.
Dennis comes out of the Bucking Bronco's doors.
Dennis has arrived.
Zoe comes out of the Bucking Bronco's doors.
Zoe has arrived.
Alabaster Smith smiles broadly at Jon. "The Lord, He works in mysterious ways, which is another way of saying He doth maketh the weird shit to happen, and leaves us to interpret it."
Penny is dry heaving, steadied by Cash near the doors to Cow Punchers. Pobble stands close by. Near the cluster stand Jon and Enid, Enid leaning on Jon. Alabaster smith stands against a wall near Jon and Enid.
Enid looks from Cash to Pobble and finally to the shakey Penny, eyes narrowing suspiciously. Somehow, she's less than reassured. "You think so?" she asks to Pobble, taking a drag on her cigarette as if she's been suddenly reminded of her own need for some medicine. The reverend's explanation is what finally calm her, and she lets out a sullen, "You've got that right," in agreement.
Dennis slips out of the Cowpuncher, gives Zoe a nod of farewell, and walks on down the street.
Dennis makes his way west.
Dennis has left.
Zoe goes home.
Zoe has left.
A little baggie is still clutched in her hand, a clue. Penny doesn't quite go limp but she's not the same person that was just out for a beer with her homes Hiro. A little paler, well. A lot paler. Hardly a contrast with her wet white hair plastered to her head. She stares at Cash with dilated pupils and a slack, sad smile. "He never goes completely," sounds rational. But she can't hold her head up and the second, the very second Pobble touches her, Penny tenses and buries her head on Cash's shoulder, like someone touched with a live wire.
Pobble's hand comes away from her hand, red and wet.
Examining her through the wet strands of his hair, Cash looks at the back of Penny's skull while she mans up to the doc's orders. "She'll be cool, man." Not that he sounds any more comforting in the matter now that he's retrieved his flask from sir Pobble. It's hit, his 30 proof breath travels and steams in the cold air. Penny's head resting on the swaying shoulder, Cash slowly infests her with the drunken swagger that snakes in his spine constantly. It's contagious, and now that she's allowed her weight to be placed atop of the squat Jew, unavoidable. "Far out." Cash digs it, he never goes completely. That'll be comforting in lonely times.
Jon watches the scene and nods idly at Smiths' words. "I suppose. I never put much stock in God myself." He notes the red on Pobble's hand. He doesn't say anything, but he does keep his gaze where the action's at. "Where you been tonight? I ran by the store and you weren't there. I thought you were closing?" That's it make light conversation. He feels for his cigarettes and lighter and doesn't find htem in his pocket. "Gimme my smokes."
Pobble lets out a long low sigh as he stares down at his fingers. Silver daubed with red. Red on white, red on red. For some reason or other, this turn of events doesn't seem to surpise him. Neither does the fact that Penny spasms when he touches her. The bloody finger smears something onto the bottle in his other hand and he holds this out to Penny as he takes a step back, reaching into his pocket and taking out another pair of cigarettes. He lights both, sucking in and speaking around them. He's starting to look tired.
[TIC] Penny (Thursday) says, "this feels weird. this scene. drama. but maybe not in a good way."
[TIC] Pobble says, "Enochian symbolic equivalent of 'Chill' written in blood on the water bottle. It does seem weird."
[TIC] Pobble says, "I feel ya."
[TIC] Pobble says, "I'm the one that usually does all the falling down in bloody heaps."
Enid has returned the lighter, but she produces Jon's pack of Malboros from her jacket pocket and stuff them back into his. "I had to go pick somethin' up for TC," she says, eyes downcast as she makes some attempt to keep from staring at the Penny-related commotion. "An' now I need a beer," she says in the same sort of way that people usually say they need oxygen. "You drinkin', Reverend?" she asks, turning towards the door.
"Funny you should put it that way," Alabaster comments to Jon, "for He has much invested in you." He shakes his head at Enid. "Sadly, Ah fear my time right here is done, and Ah have to take care of some business."
Penny drops the baggie, takes the bottle and slumps into Cash. In tune with his wobble, her eyes kinda roll up back into her head. She curls the bottle inward toward her chest and 'hnnns' humming her way back to functioning "I cut .. myself. Didn't I. Shouldn't have touched ..me .. P-p-pobs I'm not ..ss-safe." Her eyes roll over toward the other trio, says "Oh.. shit," like she might cry.
Jon watches Smith and gives the man a vague smile before he turns back to Penny and that ensuing drama. "Dude, there anything one of us can do to help? I mean, she ain't lookin' any better." He gives an unsure look to Enid as if seeking her advice silently. "I mean...shit like this can get bad quick sometimes."
Enid's mouth forms a straight line. "Night then, Reverend." She catches Jon's look and gives him a barely perceptible shake of her head. "C'mon." She looks right past him at the bleeding girl. "I think it's time for us to go inside."
Shaking his head, Pobble turns back to Jon, Enid and Smith. Cigarettes waggle between his lips as he says "She'll be fine. Honest." He does sound quite certain of this as he reaches down and picks up his umbrella. "Home's not far Pens. You can rest soon." Straightening up as demanded, Pobble begins to lead his companions up the road with a tired smile to Enid, "See you soon.." A nod to John, "Thanks guvna."
OOC> Penny says, "Night guys ..uh ..sorry it got so weird. Blame it on the rain?"
OOC> Enid laughs. "No problem."
OOC> Pobble says, "Yeah, next time it'll be much worse. I mean, better."
Jon nods to Pobble then looks back to Enid. "Come on, I'll buy you a beer." He heads toward the bar then.
OOC> Jon laughs. "Nah, thanks for the RP. Weird is okay :)"
Enid disappears with Jon into the club.
Enid makes her way into the Cowpunchers.
