by Marc | Aug 18, 2018 | Chronicles
Synopsis: Aaron takes his broken stero in to Harper’s repair shop to get fixed. He also makes a request for a piece of equipment.
JASON: Two days had passed since my mother’s repast. Two days which meant the moment the door shut behind the last of my guests there was work to be done. Work that would ensure that when the landlord returned within a day’s time and Johnny perhaps less than that everything that I valued would be gone. The apartment would be picked clean as if a den of thieves had made themselves at home here and departed just as fast. The moment I returned after getting out of the hospital things were marked into three categories:
- Keep
- To my mother or father’s friends.
- Pawn.
Most of everything that we had in the apartment went to category three. There were some items that found their way into category two, but category one. well, that was rare. It was few and far in between. The things that I gathered to keep were the first things to go. They were transported to a safer place than the apartment, they were sent to what I affectionately called the Nest. The things that were going to be given away to my parents’ friends were delivered quickly.
The items to pawn or in some cases fence that went to the appropriate associates that shared their condolences, which I milked to get better prices, because they would be stashed in to their appropriate spots. I no longer had my mother to worry about raiding my accounts or my piggy banks, but there were debts that had to be settled and I rather handle them on my own. It was better that than a shake down.
When Johnny came for his money he would find nothing there for him to break or shake me down for instead he would find a neighbor who had an envelope with the money and a note saying that it’s settled. If he comes for me then I will respond appropriately, but as far as I’m concerned my mother’s debt is settled. With him, there were others and I would work my way down the list, but his was the most immediate that needed to be handled.
I have no idea what went down in the alley, but I’m sure he wasn’t too happy at the fact that I got away, but I wasn’t too happy that his poison killed my mom. I think we can come to an understanding. The lanlord had gotten the rent before my mother died so he was settled so what I paid him was the next months rent which was more of. You don’t know where I went and if CPS comes knocking you don’t have a clue and make up whatever you wanted. They wold try what? Two times tops unless Thompkins pushes them.
Of course, this left me with no place to live, nope had that taken care of, because there were times when I needed to disappear to get away from the bad moments, because there were plenty with my mom. Sadly, it didn’t really become available until my dad was sent away. When he got sent away it became mine, fair and square. It was my retreat from all the crappy things. It was the Nest. It’s all I had that was mine despite the fact that it wasn’t, but I’ll take what I can.
However, right now I caught the bus into the narrows. It’s where I needed to be to find a fixer, because I was in need of one. Why? Of the things that I kept, I kept the stereo and right now it wasn’t working as well as it could be, so I brought the unit in to get it repaired. I heard there was a good fixer in the narrows which meant one of several things. I could barter or cash. Luckily, I had cash, but let’s find out how much the repair work was going to cost before I went dolling out any. It might be a situation where barter might be better…maybe.
HARPER: It had been several days since a random bump in the road a literal one in this case had sent Harper sliding into an alleyway, and a mouthy upright Roomba of a cybernetic woman. The truly sad fact is this could not be said to be entirely unusual in a town like Gotham. Nor could it be said of the cloaked woman who emerged from thin air with a quarter staff to retrieve the Roomba moments later. Harper herself had never encountered the stranger elements of the city beyond a chance encounter with the Batman months back. So to say this most recent one had been a significant moment in her life would be an understatement.
The long, slow trip home as she pushed her busted and only means of transportation had been one of reflection. Something had changed in Harper after seeing Batman in the flesh and this had only increased in it pace of growth after meeting The Huntress. While some doubts remained about whether or not she could actually pull off the role she had chosen to play she knew she had to at least try. A part of her wished she could ask someone for advice on the matter but what would Cullen or Steph even know about playing hero? Or of what would be required to become one.
Could you even imagine what Stephanie Brown would wear!? Probably something bright purple.
At the end of her long and slow trip and her deep thoughts on vigilante..ism? Harper had rolled her scooter up to the entrance to the shop she worked out of in her role as the neighborhoods resident handyperson. That had been days ago and she had not yet left the shop the projects at the front of her mind were just to important to allow for interruptions. Lifting up the goggles she wore while using her blowtorch Harper held up what she hoped would be a suitable set of body armor.
“UGH…Hardly Bat certified level here Harps…”
Lowering the goggles again she aimed the torch down again and started to fuse the panels again. Perhaps she should start with the weaponry she would employ that she knew she could handle. Halting the torches progress she turns to look to a set of gloves on a nearby workbench.
“Shock gauntlets. YES.”
But first she had to finish her current project, being distracted would only guarantee another faulty seam.
JASON: When the bus began to approach my stop, I glanced down at the slip of paper where I had written the address down and rang the bell beside me. Moving to my feet I picked up the unit and made my way to the front of the bus. The entrance was closer. Holding on to the bar I waited for the bus to come to a step before moving past the all-important yellow line. The doors opened, and the driver gave me a look.
Yep this is where I wanted to get off at. Holding onto the stereo unit I walked down the stairs looking around. Not that the Narrows was a step up by any means it was at a bit of a crossroads if someone liked to think of it that way.
I didn’t care much else with me beyond what I had in my arms. My money was where I could get to it, but again I would have to have a discussion about payment. The stereo itself could fetch a price, but not much especially since it was busted. I headed down the street making sure to keep my eyes and ears open to everything around me without making it obvious. I knew a few people in the area, but I wasn’t about to go look them up. That would invite them into places that I didn’t want them.
Instead I made my way to the workshop with no incident, so things were looking good, at least for the moment. Pushing against the door to open it I glanced around getting my bearings as it was my first time here.
“Hello?” Was there a bell?
HARPER: There was in fact no bell or any other means by which you might signal your arrival. In fact the front of the shop had the look of a place that had not been used by anyone in sometime it could easily be mistaken for abandoned. Harper preferred it this way and used a purely word of mouth method of advertisement, which only backfired when someone couldn’t keep their mouths shut. The receiving area contained little except for an old and dusty desk piled with folders and old books, behind it were somehow dustier bookshelves also piled with random and ancient texts or so it would seem to someone of Jason’s age. The three folding chairs to the left of the door by the wall with the peeling wallpaper might have offered a place to wait if they too were not over encumbered by a leaning towers of mostly Popular Mechanics magazine.
What it lacked in bells the receiving area made up with its hidden camera and the sudden alert it sent to Harpers phone. Feeling the buzz in her pocket she turns off the torch and gently places it on a nearby table. Pulling the glasses up to sit on her head Harper removes her phone from her pocket and opens the alert.
Someone was out front, someone she did not know. Tapping the alert again she brings up the microphone function built into the camera.
“I am the great and powerful Oz! Whatta ya want?”
JASON: “Yeah, well, I guess the Emerald City has seen better days…years.” By the looks of it. My eyes moved around to see if I could spot the camera, but obvious moves would pick up what I was attempting to do. Despite the look of shop, it was obvious that the front of the house was not utilized that often or wasn’t the real front of the house.
“I’m looking for Harper. I was told that she was good with electronics. I have something that I need her to take a look at. Two things actually, three if she’s any good.” I don’t know. I mean it was all word of mouth and apps only tell you so much like anyone can buy or make an app these days. He arched his brow turning so he could find a spot to set the stereo down.
“Its work so do you do that kind of thing or do you just claim squatters rights? Also, if we’re talking Great and Powerful Oz.” Who was actually a charlatan, perhaps someone after my dad’s heart. “I’m not looking for a heart, brain or courage. Home is what is, Gotham. So, I’ll take a hovercycle. I don’t know any witches, but big Bertha comes close. So, if I dump a bucket of water on her you can make the hovercycle happen right?”
I really did need the stereo fix, but she was the one that all L. Frank Baum on me.
HARPER: Harper couldn’t help but to grin at the response she was given, this guy talked like a kid from Gotham. Peeling off one of her heavy duty gloves and then the other she lays them on the table careful to keep from placing either to close to the still warm end of the torch that she had placed on the same table. Harper turns toward the actual entrance to the shop stopping to wave a few times at the air to disperse the odor welding had dispersed throughout the shop. She loved making things but had never come to enjoy the smell a blowtorch put into the air, now the sizzle of electronic that was a different matter entirely.
Walking toward the door to her shop she scoops up a small device as she makes her way out to speak with Jason. Her hand on the panel to open the door she stops again and turns back taking a moment to slide a tarp over the objects on the main table like her body armor.
That done she taps a panel next to the door to disengage three separate sets of heavy duty locks she had placed on the door. Despite the sound proofing she had installed the sounds of this happening likely still filtered through the walls. Stepping out into the front room the taser like device still in her hand Harper looks Jason over a few times before speaking.
“I might be Harper..I might be Dorothy. I usually only work on referrals.”
She said crossing her arms over the Sex Pistols t-shirt she had on under the tool belt that hung on her like an under arm dual pistol holster. Whether or not she was Josey Wales quick with the wrenches and assorted tool in the belt would be anyone’s guess.
JASON: I waited patiently to see what was going to happen. Was the counter going to slide away revealing a hidden staircase that lead to the actual shop which lay beneath the “decadent” exterior. Or was there going to be a wall that split a part or opened out to welcoming me to the inner sanctum? That would be pretty cool, however unlikely as I heard the three deadbolts that unlocked themselves.
Perhaps in another life, another Gotham, because in this one it sounded like someone who was into security. The only thing that was missing was the rod that slipped into the little box n the door and caught along the floor.
One could never have too much security, especially when they did they type of work that Harper was alleged to do. People to tend to take anything that’s not bolted down, and when it is bolted down it just means that need to come with the right tools to make it theirs. Of course, that brings me to allegedly. Why do I say allegedly, because I haven’t seen any of her work. There’s no real proof and until I see with my eyes it is rumor and hearsay.
Also, it was the word that got me the Spelling Bee trophy in third grade, well it got me into the tie breaker. Incarceration got me the trophy.
When the proprietor finally stepped out Jason tipped head to the side. Maybe he can get a kid discount. She was probably what a year or two older at most, maybe three. She had bags under her eyes. Probably best not to mention that. His nose caught the distinct scent that comes blow torch work.
“Blow torch or acetylene.” Of course the moment I said it, Blondie’s <i>The Hardest Part</i> passes through my head. It can’t he helped. Nor can me noticing the Sex Pistol’s shirt she has on. Pretty hard to miss that, or something that looks interesting from afar in her hand. She looked me over a couple of times. I guess I passed the test, not really because she still holding that interesting item in her hand.
Trust. It will get you killed if you’re not careful.
“You don’t look like Dororthy. Maybe DG, but not a Dorothy.” Points for catching the reference since we’re all about Oz or something. Maybe she has a Scarecrow fetish. I’ll try not to visibly shudder about that. Next thing I know she’ll be chatting me up about the Mad Hatter.
“Harper most definitely, but I could be wrong, and I got a referral. You fixed a dishwasher for a neighbor of mine.” Three blocks over and two blocks down. “For a bucket of chicken and peaches. The peaches I get, because she gives everyone peaches. The chicken. She said you were a little reluctant. I bet you’re Popeye’s kind of girl and she was only dealing in the Colonel.”
The sad thing about this. It’s not the most absurd conversation I’ve ever had.
HARPER: “I try to avoid fast food it goes straight to my thighs.”
While Harper couldn’t claim to remember every person she had helped in the Narrows she absolutely remembered Miss Brenda, and her bucket of KFC. Of all the things you could invest in Gotham that might kill you fast food could still be considered one of the worst offenders in Harpers mind. Still she had placed the chicken in the fridge and had found it gone the next day. Cullen pleaded innocent but also refused to show her his fingers, tainted with grease no doubt.
“Okay then if you know Miss Brenda then we can do business.”
Harpers mind drifted to her long list of important projects and how she really shouldn’t work on anything else right now, still it might raise suspicion if she turned anyone away. Taking a step back she gestures for Jason to go first.
“After you…”
Grinning just a little she gestures inside with the object in her hand.
JASON: “Uh huh.” I left it at that, because it was best not to comment on things of that nature. Girls go upside down and sideways about it, usually against a guys head, so yeah no comment. I’ll play the innocent little lamb when it comes to that.
“I do. She says hello and something about coming to see you about her clock radio.” Message delivered. Turning towards the counter I lifted up the stereo unit and proceeded to step behind the curtain so to speak though I had no idea where I was headed really
“If you insist. So straight ahead into the back or am I making turns? Is this some kind of ploy to look my butt? I’m a little young for you aren’t I?” There might have been a hint of a smirk while I headed towards wherever we were going.
“Now if it gets me a discount feel free to look, but I may feel ashamed in the morning.”
HARPER: “Not really no, but I reserve the right to sneak a peek later.”
She could tell him it really had to do with keeping a knife or worse from being stuck into her back, she wished she could say it had never happened before. Of course Cullen would never hear about that particular incident, he worried enough as is. One bad apple had ruined it for everyone else and now Harper insisted clients go first where she could keep a good eye on them.
“I don’t prescribe it puritanical concepts of shame it’s a total waste of energy….unlike this.”
At this she sparks the device in her hand to give Jason a good look at the super taser she had been holding since he came in. The possibility excessive amount of electricity the device emits lights up the darkened front area and illuminated the shop just inside the door, as well as Harpers best don’t mess with me face.
“You can unload your stuff over there…DO.NOT. Touch anything.”
Harper points to a table on the far end of the room and well away from the center table covered by the tarp.
JASON: “I’ll go slow mo if it gets me a hovercycle.” Yep I totally said that. Whether or not I would do it another story, but we are talking about a hovercycle. I was doing my best to keep light, because let’s recap on what’s going on here.
- Stranger shows up on your door step asking for you to do some work for him.
- You work in the Narrows where lies are candy and betrayal dessert and people tend to eat dessert first all the time in the Narrows, East End, well, just about everywhere in Gotham and if you wanted something more decadent head over to Bludhaven. It’s like’s Gotham’s Red Light district.
- I’m pretty sure she has more than one weapon ready for me if I do decide to clown out on her, but totally not what I’m here for.
“Well, that’s good, because ashamed means for me I get a pint of ice cream and forget about what I was supposed to be shaming myself about.”
With a turn of my head my eyes catch the sparks of the taser making note of it.
“Wait I can set my stuff down, but don’t touch anything. What happens if my finger touches the top of the counter. Is that included?”
HARPER: Harper considers giving Jason a good zap for his sass or at least she would if she herself wouldn’t have likely said the same thing. Instead she spins the taser in hand and slides it into one of the empty holsters hanging at her sides. Thankfully she doesn’t fling the weapon across the room this time, that had proven to be a bit of a disaster. Thankfully her neighbors cat had only gotten a little scorched and it’s hair eventually grew back in, of course Purrrcevil did his best to avoid her to this day.
“My fee goes up by the sass just FYI”
In contrast to the outer office Harpers actual shop is meticulously sorted, with just a smudge of chaos here and there. Where she had tools placed on the walls they were arranged in order of size and or condition, clearly a few had seen better days. In addition to the large center table covered with a tarp she had the table she was pointing to against the wall it was smaller and mostly clear except for the strange gloves she had forgotten to put away.
Spotting them Harper mutters something under her breath and hopes Jason doesn’t ask to many questions. Stepping head of him she moves in to moves the gloves aside before he sets his stuff down near them.
“Just put them on the table sassmouth.”
JASON: There had to be a little sass. I mean what’s Gotham without a little sass or wit coming from some direction. Without it, we’d be a failed Metropolis, or at least that’s what people like to think. Me, I see potential, potential for so much more, so much better, but setting it aside I couldn’t help the smirk at the fee business.
Setting the unit on the table as instructed I stepped back while taking in the shop. There were things put away in places, all neat and tidy and the tiny bits of chaos I suspect are from just finished business, in the middle business, or just started business. Things she didn’t mind people seeing.
Then there was the don’t look at me, but can’t but notice me tarp business which would likely get me a zap from the taser and if I was a betting man I’m pretty certain it’s set for twitching on the floor, foaming on the mouth sucks to be you if you have a pacemaker setting. So no peeky under the tarp.
Of course it made me wonder where other such things were that weren’t being worked on were.
“So, I guess introductions are in order less I get stuck with sassymouth, but given where your eyes were sassypants would work too.” I just can’t help myself. “Jay and I’m here because my precious has stopped working right. Tape decks running slow and the turn table is even slower.”
HARPER: Harper walks over to the table where the stereo had been placed and slowly moved her eyes over it. Leaning in a bit and pulling a small pen light out of one of the pockets on her belt she clicks it on moving it’s bright and slightly bluish light over the mentioned tap deck and then the turn table. If she even heard Jason’s comments she made no reaction to them, nor would she while she worked.
A minute or so later she turns and aims the narrow beam at Jason and then the tarp on the table, then back to Jason. Seemingly satisfied she clicks the pen off while still holding it up and after twirling it in her fingers places it back in its place on her belt.
“I think I see the problem…it’s a piece of junk.”
Offering a quick shrug followed by a rapidly fading grin Harper again turns back to the stereo.
“I’d recommend jacking…or maybe buying an iPod or phone or something. I hear Spotify is just the best.”
Her hands reach forward and begin removing the front of the stereo a tiny screw driver having appeared in her hand as of by magic. As she continues to work at removing the face of the unit she again speaks.
“But if you’re dealing with an emotional attachment I get it and…give me like five minutes?”
JASON: While Harper focused on the stereo on unit, I took a moment to look around the shop. I didn’t touch, I didn’t even try to see what was on the tarp I just looked around before looking over my shoulder at Harper as she holstered her taser. “There’s a lot to look at. I’m just taking it all in. I’m behind the curtain without a little dog running back and exposing you. I think I’m doing good.” Smirking he turned back towards her nodding.
“It’s my piece of junk and if you can get it up and going then I’ll be a satisfied customer. I like to keep it analog sometimes.” Simple as that. At least that’s the way I wanted to keep it. Don’t need to talk about any other reasons.
“So, if you can get it squared away I’d like that a lot and then I would like to talk about another project if you’re up for it. One that doesn’t deal in peaches. Deals in presidents. Dead ones.”
HARPER: “I’m not interested in joining your crew…if your looking for a criminal I’d suggest looking up my dad.”
Harpers eyes had not yet left the stereo as she removed the face and then began working on the tape deck itself. Jason had lucked out in that Harper had experience with fixing devices as old as this one, her youth had seen dozens if not hundreds of such things smashed in fits of rage or outright sold to make ends meet or even more likely so her father could buy some illicit substances. Far to often she would come home from school to find the television missing and be forced to find a cheap replacement, which she would then be forced to make work.
It had been a maddeningly predictable cycle but it had been what had made her the tech wiz she was today. No amount of skill or strength came easily or without trial and Harper would not claim to be different.
“So…Jay right? If that’s what your after you can get the hell out of my shop. I’ll still fix your stereo because I’m nice like that but…”
JASON: “Do I sound like I have a crew? Do I look like I have a crew? Talk about emotional attachments?” I pause for a moment shaking my head. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about. Just saying that I’ll pay you in cash. ” Did I hit a nerve probably. Wouldn’t be the first time. Walking over towards the table where she was working on the stereo I leaned up against it watching her work.
“However, I am in need of someone that has expertise in your area. Fixing things, possibly modifying them that’s all. Currently in need to be able to see someone coming that’s all. There’s a bit of business that my parental involved herself in, and due to a change in her status I am now probably on the hook for it more than likely so I want to try and be prepared if I can. My living situation is….” What’s a good word.
“Tenuous at best. Meaning I could be sleeping and someone might come knocking and I rather be in position to make a quick exit if need be. So, I need to see if this is or isn’t out of your wheel house. It could cost so hence the dead presidents.” He shrugged. “Kind of looking for night vision goggles, but not big clunky ones. I was curious if you worked on anything like that before.”
It was no big whoop if not. “Not all of the street lights are lit and I find myself running through the streets or trying to make a quick exit through various buildings I’d rather not impale myself.” I would say fourteen is too young to have a crew, but we both know that’s not true.
“As Nancy Thompson said. I’m into survival.”
HARPER: Harper stood up from the stereo and turned to face Jason holding both her hands up in apology. Twirling the small screw driver in her fingers as she lowers her hands again her mood leveling out again as she basically forces it to do so. She might have made an assumption and that wasn’t right of her.
“Okay I may have over reacted a touch…but..”
Stepping back to the table she placed the screwdriver down and brought out the pen light again. Thinking a moment she places the light in her mouth and picking the the screw driver again gets back to work.
“Night vision goggles that is some vigilante level stuff and those are illegal I hear… but yeah I can totally do that.”
Both her hands move to work their way into the stereo as the light does what it does best, illumination. A few second pass and Harper begins to place pieces back onto the stereo and again takes a step back.
“That might have done it.”
JASON: “It’s cool. I get it. I mean. It’s the environment we live in. Crime’s a way of life for some of us. You never can be sure, but trust there is no crew. I’m not crew material. Remember, I’m Mister Sassypants. I wouldn’t last a day, may not even an hour. My mouth would get me in trouble. Probably why I’ll be picking up an unwanted debt. Too many clapbacks for my own good.” My shoulders rise and fall while I watch her work.
“That they are, but sometimes to survive you have to risk it. As much as I would like to turn to the cops that usually makes a bad situation worse, and judging by your reaction I think we both can agree that not ever cop is a stand up individual.” Not in the least, but I wasn’t about to walk that winding road. I had a stereo to get fixed and goggles to see about.
“Cool. Now I can have tunes again. Sweet, sweet tunes. So let’s see. How much for the repair job? How much for the goggles, and when should I expect my hovercycle?”
HARPER: “Honestly this thing barely required any amount of effort…so we can call it even for now.”
Scratching at the side of her head with the screwdriver as she accidentally flashes Jason with the pen light still in her mouth. Eyes widening a bit she takes it out and clicking it off places it back in its proper place.
“I can look the goggles and I’ll let you know what I’ll need payment wise in a few days…and pal I make a hover cycle it’ll be all mine.”
JASON: “Aww really. Not even a box of Popeyes?” I couldn’t help it. I was completely amused, by the entire thing. Also there was a box in my fridge, because I helped Ms. Brenda with carrying in some groceries and moving furniture. I’ll take what I can get.
“Few days. Alright. I’ll drop be in a few days to check in. Oh yeah for sure. First generation is all yours. I’ll take the next one after that after all the bugs are worked out. That’s really generous of you. I guess you really are the great and powerful Oz. I didn’t even have to douse any witches.”
That’s when she flashes me with the light. Looking away I cast my eyes down for a second before looking up again. “Well, that was fun.”
Reaching out for the stereo I thought about before turning back towards Harper. “Actually…” Taking out my wallet I pull out a few bills and set them into her hand.
“Here’s seventy-five for a down payment. If it costs more we’ll discuss in a few days about payment. If it costs less well, I’ll open an account or something because if I break them someone’s going to have to repair it right?” Right. They were probably going to cost more. Either way I picked up the stereo. “Thanks for the work.” I wait for a moment. “So same drill as the first. I walk ahead of you and you see me out?”
by Marc | Aug 18, 2018 | Chronicles
Synopsis: After being released from the hospital Jason sets about to get ready to say good bye to his mother the only way he knows how.
Walking the aisles of the local market was nothing new, I had done it a million times, at least it felt like a million times. I was grabbing a few things that I needed. I left the hospital two days ago after spending two days in it after I had regained consciousness at Dr. Thompkins insistence. I acquiesced, because I new that she would not let up if I tried to leave any earlier. She meant well, she always did, but I also knew she was attempting to determine what was gone to be done with me.
I was in a hospital and I’m pretty certain that DCFS was contacted. I wanted to become a ghost, but that was complicated by the fact that my mother. That was until Dr. Thompkins asked me what I wanted to be done. What did I want done with my mother?
”Cremate her.”
There was no hesitance in my voice. If the good doctor was offering then I would provide the most convenient and least expensive solution. It’s what they do when John and Jane Does can’t be identified. The price tag is usually a couple hundred bucks if the city is involved. I knew who my mother was, but let’s be fair. I was not capable of paying for a funeral. I would not have that expensed by anyone. However, cremation that I would bargain for.
I would volunteer to pay it off. Square my debt and decide the next move.
If it was one less problem I had to deal with good, because there would be plenty more headed my way. I was certain of it, but right now everything is a big jumble for everyone. I am far from glass I will not break, but they are not aware of that. I use it to my advantage. I gathered my clothing and left the hospital and made my way home.
If the cops were not at my door good. Perhaps for the first time living in the East End would provide some kind of perverse benefit. One less problem for someone to deal with. The specter of crime would provide me the cover that I desired at the moment.
Did we…I have money. I had some, most of it stashed away in different places. Being a minor meant that my options were limited, and I had already experienced what it meant to have a juvenile account in the bank. I really control anything. My parents did. They could withdraw as much as they wanted so anything that I got through birthdays and Christmas could easily be withdrawn under the guise of doing it on my behalf.
One account closed, the other the money simply vanished just enough to keep the account open until it went to a negative balance and we owed…I owed the bank money so I opened up an account at the National Bank of Jay with branches in various places that I only knew about. I would use that to see how far it would stretch. It was the result of odd jobs here and there some legitimate and some not so legitimate.
However, most of all I would have to crack open the rainy-day fund. It was stuffed in my pockets now as I grabbed a few more items from the shelf and set them into my shopping cart. It wasn’t a lot just things I forgot.
Thirty minutes and forty dollars later I’m carrying the groceries back home. I may look like I’m lost in my thoughts, but I’m not. My eyes constantly scan the area. The world doesn’t stop because someone in your life is gone. Not around here at least. You’re just another mark for someone to take advantage of, whether it’s words or some other means it depends on the person. However, I luck out and make it back to the apartment building where a few people have gathered, men and women who I know and know me.
I don’t offer them a smile, because I’m not in a smiling mood. I’m not sure if I’m happy to see them either. I suspect that they have come to pick over my mother’s nonexistent bones.
“Jason…” My eyes move to the man speaking. A “friend’ of my father. His wife is a friend of my mother. I’ve had a few requests to be taken in, but let’s get real. It is either about collecting foster payments, that will not be used to offset the fact that there is new person in their house, or they are under the impression that my parents were financially responsible and that there’s money somewhere in an account, safety deposit box or insurance. My mother was an addict. what insurance company in their right mind would insure her?
“Mister Peterson.” I held onto the bags of groceries. “I will be seeing you later this evening?” I make the attempt an smile, because maybe it will make this go a little smoother. Probably won’t, but hey it’s worth a shot right.
“About tonight. Mrs. Peterson and I and a few other friends of your parents are concerned about you doing this on your own. This little gathering that you’re having.” Little gathering. Little gathering for a little kid. There was some collective lemming nodding by all of those gathered.
“I understand why you opted not to have a traditional wake.” We didn’t do wakes. Though i suspect you can say that this is a wake of sorts, but it’s a repast. These are my parents friends. People they considered family. Some of which that are grieving.
“I would like to help by offering to have someone come in…” Whatever was going through my head at the moment halted. it was like a deep record scratch across my mental turntable.
“No, thank you. I have it covered.” Let’s end this before it starts. I begin to turn back towards the door.
“Surely you’re a bit overwhelmed. Just out of the hospital. Coping with the loss of a loved one. You’re all alone now, Jason. What would your father say? Your mother wouldn’t want you to bear this burden alone.”
Surely.
Perhaps.
Of course.
But that is beside the point. My mother taught me many things. Love of 80s music. True my library extends past that, but it is something that we shared. She also taught me how to cheat at Monopoly and cards. She also taught me about what to do when you lose a love one, because there had been many.
“No, thank you.” There I said it. Now I shall enter the apartment building and continue on my way.
“It would be my pleasure to have some people come and handle all of this for you. Your mother’s friends…..” These are my mother’s friends? Associates yes. Friends. No. I know my mother’s friends. None of them were holding hair hair up when she was up chucking into the toilet. Nor were they at any of the card parties or trading pills.
“Are you deaf?” I reply. “I said no thank you, not once, twice.” I did. I heard me said the words. I was very polite about it. I could feel the look of offense on spreading across Mister Peterson’s face.
“Henry…” His wife started, but she was silenced with a look.
“I will let that go, Jason. It sounds like a child suffering from duress.” Now I’m being insulted. Yay! I can see closets, straps and other such manners of punishments in my future if I was to accept the offer he wants to make.
My father taught me how to read people. Not because he was a genius at it, but because he was bad at it. Horribly, horribly bad at it. He was good at teaching me how to lift wallets and other items without getting caught. He said I had a gift. Is that really a gift? Rumination for another time.
Right now I focus on how to resolve this situation. I have ice cream in my bag.
Mister Johnson clears his throat. He must be the alternative. “You should let us help, Jason. It’s all we want to do.”
“We can help you. We can have it at my hall and Mr. Peterson can have people come in and assist with the food and drinks. It will be easier for you. You won’t have to worry about anyone. They will be taken care of.” Peterson nodded at what Mister Johnson said.
They would pay for it. They would bail me out. I know it’s a cynical way to look at it, but I had to. Everyone was a mark, they were a mark if they allowed themselves to become one, but even if that was not the entire reason why I continued to refuse it was part of it.
“It is not a burden. This is not a burden. Honoring my mother is not a burden.” Let’s make that crystal clear.
“No, no that’s not what we meant, Jason. You’re twisting our words,” Mister Peterson insisted.
“I don’t need a hall. I don’t need someone to serve people. If people wish to help sure they can do that, but it will be at the apartment. My neighbors are fine with people being in the hall. They understand what’s happened. They’ve offered to let me use some of their chairs.” Furniture had been moved around with the help of them also.
The frustration on their side was starting to show. “Food has been made. Some has been donated.” But a lot of it had been made by his hands.
“Jason…” I almost wish I could change my name right now.
“As a wise woman once said, “We do not honor our family by sitting friends and family in a hall. We do not honor our family by having strangers serve those grieving. We serve comfort food to those that need comfort, and we do it with our own hands. That is how I choose to honor my mother. That is how my mother taught me to honor those we have loss.”
“That is how a family does a repast. That is how I was taught to pay my respects. I am not the only person that lost my mother, and there are those who will need comfort and care. That cannot and will not be outsourced. There is nothing of my mother in a hall. Nothing of her in strangers who could be paid to serve them. Nothing of her in the food that they will make.” I let that sink in before I continue, because it was apparent that my gentle rebuffs were not producing the desired results.
‘’I will grieve for the rest of my life. The depth of my grief will outstrip every person there, but for one day for several hours they will grieve with me. It will be on the surface they will want to share and remember. They will want to know that I am okay and the way to show that is to show them comfort. To open my home and my heart to them. To serve them. To let them help me serve others, but by their hands not by a stranger’s in a stranger place.” I could feel my jaw tighten just a touch, because I felt that I was being diplomatic. Yet I’m continued to be challenged. For a couple of hours. I can be the person that my mother wanted me to be and the person that her friends need me to be. After that I have to figure out what next.
“So, thank you for the generous offer, but no thank you. I think it’s well taken care of, but if you wish to bring a dish you’re more than welcome to.”
I move to the door smiling to Mister Wallace who was on his way out. “Hello, Mister Wallace. I’ll make sure to save you a plate.” He was on his way to work, but he stopped by earlier. As the door began to close behind me it was caught by Mister Peterson, but I kept walking. There was nothing more to say.
by Marc | Jul 23, 2018 | Chronicles
Synopsis: Jason deals with the aftermath of the previous nights events.
”Go ahead, baby, it’s your day. Birthday number eight,” mom said with a smile. “I know you want to.”
Ordinarily I would put up a bit of a fight about being called “baby”. All my friends were there, but she was right I wanted to put on some tunes. Walking over to the stereo I turned it on and began to make sure that everything was working right and that it hadn’t shorted out. I worked on it yesterday to make sure that everything was going to be perfect.
It powered up without incident which made me smile. We spent the last several nights making mix tapes. Ninety-minute cassettes so we knew we would have enough music for the party and afterwards while we cleaned up. She asked what I wanted. I told her that I wanted a party. She laughed and said what present did I want. I told her again a present. If she knew someone who knew someone Batman showing up would be cool or Robin. That would be sweet, but party was at the top of the list. It was always a party. I never had one. I wanted to have one. I had been to a few, and they were fun. I had a good time at most of them so why not.
The only thing I requested is that I got to select all the music which was easy, because she knew where I was headed with it. It meant that we would have to make sure that we got the songs off her records. There were some that we grabbed from the radio reach required expert timing. It took us a few days, but we got it all and now it was time to get the apartment rocking.
With the stereo working we were in business. We had gotten the stereo years ago before I was born. At least that’s what my parents told me. My friends said it was ancient. It was from the eighties. It had a turn table and everything, but it was the best thing in the world to me. Today there weren’t any records being played. It was all cassettes today. No turning it to the radio either. Everyone already knew that I was the DJ and they knew what that meant, eighties classic.
Pressing the play button on the tape deck could help bobbing my head when the guitar rift started. Soon I was rocking my body to it and the strum of a bassline that joined it. It’s familiar. One that I have heard before one of my favorites.
[The deception with tact
Just what are you trying to say
You’ve got a blank face, which irritates
Communicate, pull out your party piece
You see dimensions in two
State your case with black or white
But when one little cross
Leads to shots, grit your teeth
You run for cover so discreet
Why don’t they]
Where was I? Cloud nine moving my body to the beat of the music as music blasted through the apartment and I was off doing my eighties dance moves that mom had taught me. Complete with my own spin of course.
[Do what they say
Say what you mean
One thing leads to another
You told me something wrong
I know I listen too long
But then one thing leads to another]
Our favorite part of the song was about to come out which meant that I needed to grab my mom. Looking around she was no where in sight. She was probably in the kitchen. I made my through the room smiling at some of my friends who showed up. I waved to a neighbor or two making my way to the kitchen. Not finding her there I turned around in time with the music and headed in the other direction. Hips shaking along the way as I made my way to her room.
“Hey mom…”
[The impression that you sell
Passes in and out like a scent
But the long face that you see
Comes from living close to your fears
If this is up, then I’m up
But you’re running out of sight
You’ve seen your name on the walls
And when one little bump
Leads to shock miss a beat
You run for cover and there’s heat
Why don’t they]
There’s a smile on my face, but hers doesn’t quite match. She was startled and there’s a nervous look in her eye. One that’s reminiscent of when my father decides to share his brand of wisdom.
“Mom?” She slides the baggie away, while my Aunt Gloria smiles at me.
“Hey birthday man. Eight years old today. Gonna get all the candles out.” My eyes immediately shift towards the man that walked past us.
“Mom…”
My eyes flutter and I find myself staring at the window closest to the bed that I’ve been placed in. The first thing that I notice is that it smells…well clean is one word for it. Disinfectant. It assaults the nose alerting me to the fact that I’m definitely not in my room nor am I in any place that’s familiar. I’ve been in Dr. Thompkin’s clinic before. She used disinfectant, but it didn’t smell like this. The bed was…it wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t comfortable either. There were rails on it.
Hospital.
Wetting my lips, I look down at the little clip that’s on my finger and the band around my arm. My eyes look towards everything tat I’m hooked up too and immediately I start to frown. How did I get here? Why am I here? Most importantly my father’s voice steps in. I can’t pay for this. What ever this is. I start to slide up and one of the machines beeps and immediately the band around my arm starts to inflate tightening around it as my blood pressure is taken.
I also have a needle I my arm and immediately I start to want to pull at it. I’m literally clawing at it when the someone appears at my door way.
“Jason,” she sounds alarmed not that I’m awake, that I’m like a feral cat trying to tear the needle out.
The woman steps quickly to my side pushing me back down forcefully, but gently. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” Staring up at the woman my eyes were quite wide, wild even.
Then started talking. It wasn’t a Charlie Brown moment no, nothing like that, instead it sounded distant and far away. Her eyes remained focused on mine as she spoke and slowly the sound of her voice got closer to the point that I took in everything the said.
<i>Antibiotics. Dehydrate. Slightly malnourished. </i>
I listened to everything Dr. Thompkins had to say the rapid rise and fall my chest slowly changing to nice steady even breathing. My heart rate was down sadly the blood pressure monitor said that I was high risk, but I think we both know there’s a reason for that.
I also take in a few other things.
Unconscious for almost three days. Exhaustion. Concussion. Bruising along the abdomen. No permanent injury. Take it easy.
Usually there’s a smile after that. Something even if there’s a hint. If I had to choose a word for the expression on Dr. Thompkin’s I would chose three. First there was relief, but then it moved to regret. Finally, she looked a bit grim.
“Where’s my mom?”
Don’t pull at it, boy. Rip it off. Be done with it. Words of wisdom from my father.
“I want to see my mother.”
There was a moment of awkward silence that was broken by me.
“I know. I remember. I’m not in shock, but I want to see her.” I need to see her.
Had it been anyone else there might have been an argument, but there were no arguments. There was a moment of prolonged of silence between us before Dr. Thompkins acknowledged my request with a nod. I would have to get checked out of course, but after all that was done I was officially granted my request. It was better to acquiesce and grant the request. The last thing anyone wanted was a scene, because there would be one.
It took a bit, because I wanted to clean up some. I had been laying in bed for the better part of three days. I was a little sore, but I didn’t mind the pain. I didn’t complain. I didn’t want anything for it. Pain meant I wasn’t dead, but it also meant that I wasn’t doped up.
It took a little over thirty minutes, because I had to deal with the IV, but I got dressed in a gown and robe and slipped on those socks they give you. Maybe I’ll be able to get a few pair out of them. They were pretty warm.
All and all I was taking it all in stride. Shock..I don’t know. Maybe it had arrived either way I slipped into the wheelchair when it arrived. Not that I needed it, but I did not have a choice. Concessions had to be made. The hospital didn’t want to be liable if I happen to fall on their watch. What am I? A grifter?
However, it was Dr. Thompkins that wheeled me to where we needed to go. I didn’t have a problem with it. The employee from transportation started to pitch a fit, but I tugged on his shirt and give him sad eyes and told him that it was okay that Dr. Thompkins was a family friend, and this was a time for family.
It sounded better than I was going to go see my dead mom and the doctor was the only person I trusted in this place. So, could he not be a shit about this.
See choices. I can make them.
The trip to our destination was a long one. It was also a silent one. We really didn’t need to speak. There wasn’t anything that needed to be said. We both knew what happened. How many times, had I shown up at Dr. Thompkin’s clinic with my mother in tow?
No, there didn’t need to be words. There was an understanding. There was so many things that I could say, but to no one in particular. Sorry, no poetry slams here. Only the deep understanding that this was in the DNA of Gotham. We were the center of the cancer. All at once we were a symptom, cause and face of the cancer that continued to metastasize throughout the city.
So, no there were no words. There was nothing there was silence as I was wheeled from one corridor to the next. The transportation representative was there with us just in case. We stepped onto the elevator and went down. Down. Down. Down to the depths of the hospital to the last place anyone wanted to go. Any normal person, but these weren’t normal times were they.
Upon reaching the basement the doors open and I was pushed out until we reached our destination.
Strange that we were here and not at the coroners. I suspect the doctor had something to do with this. One less body for the police to worry about. It had been three days. It probably luck that she wasn’t ashes in box yet.
Not cynical. Just practical. Maybe that’s worse?
When the door was open the attendant looked towards Dr. Thompkins. He was expecting us so there was no discussion about why a patient was here. Truth be told this was no the first time that I have done this.
My eyes shifted left than right before I was on the move again towards the room where I could view the body. The door was opened, and I held up my hand. I was capable of standing.
No words, they were unnecessary. It moved to my feet and stepped inside of the room. Dr. Thompkins made a move, but I shook my head. I needed a moment. She didn’t push she let the door close. Once it clicked I turned towards the gurney that my mother had been placed on.
The sheet had been turned down already. I want to say she looked peaceful, but she didn’t. There wasn’t anything physically out of place. It’s just that her eyes. I couldn’t see them. There was no smile. She was gone. This truly was nothing more than a shell. At least that’s what it felt like.
Lifting my arm to press a finger to the corner of my eye I rubbed at it while releasing the air from my lungs.
Reaching out I smoothed out her hair shutting my eyes letting the air in the room settle. Slowly I began to bob my head to the guitar rift that plays in my head followed by the bass line.
”The deception with tact, just what are you trying to say, you’ve got a blank face, which irritates. Communicate, pull out your party piece, you see dimensions in two, state your case with black or white. But when one little cross, leads to shots, grit your teeth, you run for cover so discreet, why don’t they.<
Don’t forget the hip shake.
”Do what they say. Say what you mean. One thing leads to another. You told me something wrong I know I listen too long, but then one thing leads to another.
Outside of the room Dr. Thompkins waited leaning against the wall next to the door.
“Is he?” The attendant and the transportation tech looked at one of another then towards Leslie who didn’t open her eyes. She nodded twice the continued to bob her head to the sound of the singing coming from behind the door.
by Marc | Jul 23, 2018 | Chronicles
Synopsis: Arthur Light meets with former colleague Alan Scott to discuss recent events involving Koriand’r and the attempt by Lobo the Bounty Hunter to complete the contract that has been placed on her. Comparing notes both come to the conclusion that it is time for the Earth’s new Green Lantern to intercede as the attempt on her life has potential far reaching consequences for Starfire, and more importantly the state of the Corps.
ALAN: Ordinarily any request made for a meeting with ‘Former Colleagues’ would be met with an automatic ‘No, Thanks.’ That has been the normal since the semi-quiet retirement that Alan Scott took from the life as a spook. Okay. Let’s be honest, Alan was less of a spook and more of an administrator with field clearance. He’d held the line since the 1940’s, but the Invasion of Earth had left many things in question. What came later had made formal retirement all but certainty. Hal Jordan. His fall from grace had been destructive to so many things, it seemed only fitting that it also destroy any chance Alan had of opposing the new regime too.
Even if the Alan’s Lantern was different than Hal’s, it would make little difference in the ‘Court of Public Opinion.’ Which in itself was a bit of joke, given that he runs one of the largest media conglomerates in the entire world. They knew that too, of course. Which is why Alan’s retirement was a peaceful one. He may not be in the office any more but his holdings were useful and his own meta-human abilities had proven difficult to replicate or even understand. Despite all of that though, it has never been Alan’s earthly connections that ever bought him any good will from the likes of Amanda Waller or Lex Luthor. It’s the unearthly ones that has always been of interest to them.
You can say many things about Alan Scott, but it would be a mistake to call him stupid. He’s all too aware that the powers that be don’t want him in any position of authority, but they also do not want to alienate a potential resource. Once again, this leads to an all too uneventful retirement to a Manor on the outskirts of Gotham City.
Which is where Doctor Arthur Light must come if he wishes a meeting. No, this is not some power play, but actually something of a necessity. It is here beneath the mostly invisible dome ( unless you have a particular affinity with seeing different spectrum of nearly invisible light ), that Alan has been instructing a specific student on the ways of using a Power Ring. Leaving would mean the dome lowers and Kyle would be unable to continue his lessons. Given what Alan knows to be the most basic reason for Arthur’s requested meeting? Kyle’s training may in fact be something that should not be interrupted.
“Arthur, come in,” answering the door gives a personal touch, “Are you feeling more like a library meeting or shall we have some lunch out by the ponds?”
There’s no butler on Alan’s estate. No staff of any sort in fact. At least not of the physical variety. When needed there are specters of the Green that are created to handle various chores. Such as the ones that are, even now, insuring that Kyle remains in his room an out of sight.
ARTHUR: Arthur did not detest Gotham however, he rather avoid visiting the places where he knew things were a little less under the thumb of NOWHERE for these kind of summits. Truth be told he avoided visiting it not because of Batman and his ilk, but because it is where Alan decided to retire to. He made it his home. On some level, Arthur believed that the man had earned his retirement and his secrets, whatever they may be. It may not be the popular opinion, but it was Arthur’s and that was the only one that mattered to the good doctor.
He was reluctant to say much to Koriand’r about the Alan, because the less he said the better for his sake, Kori’s and Alan’s. Sometimes too much information was a bad thing. It had to be controlled and released at critical points especially in the type of work they were involved in.
When he arrived he was actually surprised that Alan agreed to see him, but then again, he had a feeling that the original Green Lantern was already a few steps ahead. When his car arrived at the manor he looked up noting the dome. He was probably one of the few people that could detect it unaided. He decided against letting his mind wander as to why it had been erected instead he made his way towards the door when.
Alan wasn’t the only one that masked themselves. Arthur simply advised that he would be off grid for a day or so. He was only to be reached out to in emergencies. Other than that, it would be radio silence, which was not a difficult thing for him to do when he wanted.
Upon reaching the door he reached out for the door bell waiting for someone to answer. When Alan opened the door Arthur’s raised a curious brow, but offered a smile nonetheless. Old friends, they were not. Colleagues? Perhaps at best. They had a working relationship. That would probably be the best way to consider it.
“Alan. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.” It was a genuine sentiment. One that Arthur saw no issue with offering. Stepping inside the manor he glanced around attempting to recall the last time the two of them stood in the same building let alone the same room.
“As enticing as lunch sounds I’m afraid it’s more of a library type of situation.” He could go for something to eat, but better to focus on business. Best not to get to comfortable. He could say or infer the wrong thing and things could take a turn for the worse.
ALAN: The Scott family is not nearly so robust as the Wayne’s. Though the fortune has grown steadily over the years, thanks in no small part to the steady news feed that the Batman has provided, the Scott mansion is still a tenth of what the Wayne’s have. The sweeping grounds sprawl out in all directions, most of it as untamed wild forest. The entire place is actually a monument not to the people of the Scott Family, but the Green that purveys all around them.
All in all it makes for a very short walk to the Library. Which is cluttered. This is not your average library. It has been pieced together with care over the last century. Most of which was done by hand, by the very man that Arthur has asked for a meeting with. Despite the fact that Alan looks not a day over fifty, those files that Arthur reads and keeps would suggest that Alan was among the very first who came to work for Nowhere. One of the original so-called Mystery Men. Thus he has had a very long life with which to gather the collection of oddities that even now Kyle Rayner devours on a nightly basis.
That also explains the relative clutter that is being tended to by the green hued servants that manifest themselves upon the pair’s entry. “Honestly, after the recent events in Gotham, I was surprised that someone hadn’t called sooner. The business at the Mariposa was horrific. I half expected someone in the company to call me to get my help in explaining the attack. I mean. Meteors, Arthur? Really. Come on has the Company lost all of it’s imagination?”
“It hurt my soul seeing those words put in to print,” gesturing to the veritable glut of places to seat, from single chairs to a large sofa, while heading to the small bar to fix a couple of drinks. “When you didn’t contact me to help with the information flow, I knew it was only going to be a matter of time before someone came calling for something else.”
“This Bialya business, must be taking up a lot of resources if they’ve sent you, Arthur.”
ARTHUR: Arthur had poured over all the files. All the files that he was given access to. There were no doubts in his mind that there were some that were sealed away from him. Some would only be provided in cases of emergencies, others would probably never see the light of day no matter how hard the good doctor attempted to access them. There would always be some measure of restriction. Additionally, Arthur was one of the ‘them’. it wasn’t always apparent, but it was there. No matter how well he towed the company line he was still one of them, he just happened to be one of the more “management” ones.
At least that is what they continued to tell themselves. Arthur Light knew that there was always a target on his back, whether it was from within the Company or outside of the company. It did not matter, he was a marked man. A traitor to some, a resource to others, but the moment he stepped too far out of line then he would find himself in a situation that was all too familiar.
He admired the manor and all its untamed green outside. He was familiar with a little more than the basics of Alan’s story, but there were some things that would always remain a mystery. There was no communion with sentient beings for Arthur. It was all science in his mind though there were times he did wonder and often pondered about how it was all connected. Still he as not here to wax metaphysical or metaphysics. He was here to address the items that Alan was ticking off.
This is why the library was preferably to lunch at the moment.
“M’gann was thinking on the fly. Not the best cover story, but it did get the job done. However, that bit of business is far from over, I’m afraid.” He considered the way Alan phrased everything, placed the events. Perhaps he was seeing how much Arthur would corroborate, even more how much he would share. The tugs at the corner of his mouth hinted a ghost of a smile, because old habits die hard or never died at all.
Walking over towards one of the high back chairs Arthur slid into it almost as if it were an old friend. Perhaps because he enjoyed the style. One never knew.
“Bialya will sort itself out soon enough, but yes, we’re stretched pretty thin at the moment given the direction the President has given. Our more seasoned agents are half a world away. That has left us vulnerable to events such as the one that took place at the Mariposa.” The wring was on the wall there. Why try to dress it up. “However, it was not the Company that sent me. I came of my own volition. I’m due back at headquarters to deal with an inquiry.” After he speaks with another agent to address their response or lack there of. “I am anticipating their direction.” He may even be circumventing by engaging Alan first.
“The events that occurred in Gotham were inevitable due to the intended target. The company will see events one way which if argued they would be correct, but result in me breaking a promise.” Promise to who? That was of no one’s concern. “These events fall under the purview of NOWHERE, but the solution would be one that I would rather avoid. I believe if I have my information in order this situation would under the purview of the officer assigned to Sector 2814.”
ALAN: Oddly enough Alan and Arthur were actually much more similar than you might think at first. Arthur is not one for Human connections, nor is Alan is easily seen by the empty house. Though those beautiful files of Nowhere, whether Arthur had access to them or not, would undoubtedly tell the tale of a man’s life in constant tragedy. From a wife lost to a brutal pregnancy, to life-style choices later in life that did not make him a friendly aspect to the politically correct crowd of the Day. It has long since been the time that Alan preferred the company of another person to that of the Green.
“Mm. It’s been my experience, Arthur, never to think that a poorly made story crafted by a three hundred year old, is ever anything but exactly what she intended,” it is a slight correction, but one with a straight forward truth to it as Alan offers Arthur the drink that has already been poured. “She went with Meteors because it’s something that could be readily accepted by the minds of those she needed to influence. Something that could then be verified by Theodore’s beautiful little satellites -or- pointed to as their being faulty. More over meteor showers that cause damage and loss of life aren’t common. They’re predictable most of the time.”
“It’s the times that they’re unpredictable that is a problem. March 14th, 1977, Smallville, Kansas. Culverton, Gotham, December 24th, 1936. Perhaps most importantly, Coast City, September 19th, 2005. Each of these meteor showers share two common threads, Arthur. The first is that they weren’t actual meteor showers, but essentially the landing of extraterrestrial life. The second is that each time it happened, the results would greatly impact this world and change the course of History.” The opposite glass is raised in something of a salute to the Doctor, as Alan settles across from him on a the sofa. “Never. Confuse M’Gann’s seemingly random, teenage, thinking on the fly. For anything but complete and total calculation. She’s smarter than we are. Accept it first, the spend the rest of your time devoted to wondering if she picked meteors because it’s simply poetic or she has some inkling of larger circumstances that she has chosen not to share with the rest of the class.”
As Alan finishes speaking on the previously innocent topic of the cover story, the glass in his hands seems to become very important. It has his utmost focus for a couple moments. Long enough for the silence to almost become uncomfortable. This isn’t the first time that the Company has come to this very home and put forth the idea that something was happening. Something that shouldn’t be dealt with by the Company, but by people of a larger calling. One by one they’ve each been politely told that Alan Scott is retired. Each one took that to mean that he’d left the Project and wouldn’t assist them any further. Like Arthur they’d each been respectful for whatever reason they chose, whether it be decades of service and a desire not to permanently burn bridges or the knowledge that Alan Scott still holds the very power that keeps him eternally young.
The silence is then broken by him clearing his throat and looking away from the drink, “He’s not ready. Not for this Arthur.”
“The Company and the President think they defeated the entity that destroyed Coast City. They believe they drove it away and that it gave them time to build and re-equip. They did the right thing reassuring the entire world that we won and you might think Luthor is strangely allowing these kids to come out of the closet as Heroes, because it simply benefits him to control them through Nowhere. I’ve stayed quiet, because the truth is…? Luthor is unintentionally doing good work, by taking away the Fear that would come with the truth of uncertainty.”
“Because out there. Beyond Theodore’s satellites. The entire universe is at War, and they don’t even know what they’re fighting. Did your Princess tell you of the Daemonites? The Civil War among her people? Do you even know who wants her back? Who sent the Hunter for her? It wasn’t her people Arthur. They don’t want her back. Not truly.”
“He’s just not ready, damnit. Not yet. Give this kid a chance,” Alan actually comes to a complete verbal halt, blinking and looking up sharply from the the swirling drink with a sigh that seems to make him actually look his age for once. “The truth is, Arthur. You were right to come here. This is bigger than the Company. And you’re right, it should be the Lantern of this Sector’s purview. I just don’t think he’s ready. However, I also don’t know that he… or any of us… ever will be ready for what’s out there.”
“They’ll need to meet. Can you bring her here? Kyle should be the one to decide if he’s ready or not.”
ARTHUR: Arthur found M’gann to be more astute than most. She was the one that eased Kori into the idea of working with NOWHERE by maintaining her association with her associate in Gotham. It was a coup, but it was not done by bending the girl to their will, just a simple conversation that’s all it took and a bit of reasoning. Once upon a time Arthur Light believed himself to be the smartest person in the room, that was a long time ago, but now, he knew better to do so. What he could do is offer assistance and guidance as best he could and work through the system to continue to help the machine keep going.
As Alan prattled on about one thing or another, Arthur took a moment to listen to truly listen what he was saying. As always there were plots within plots and plans within plans. It seemed that this was yet another winding road that they were meant to be on by one person’s doing or another. Not that Arthur fought it. There were times and places for such things, and through his experience he found it best to choose his battles. Not every battle meant dying upon the sword. Sometimes they were waged to test, to gather information, but this, this was different.
Considering the dates that were selected. Each of those moments were the precursor of great changes, shifts in the way that humans perceived their world. The idea that there truly was life beyond the one we knew. That there were words other than our own were no longer theories and random thoughts, but reality. It was a sobering thought, but one that humanity needed to be prepared for one way or another. Hope or fear. They were strong motivators. The loss of <i>him</i> made one difficult, but this younger generation there are a few that carry the banner of hope while others champion the banner of fear, yet Arthur found it was good to have a healthy dose of both.
“Whatever her reasons it’s done, though the insight provided makes me wonder if it was done to subconsciously remind us of the dangers that lies beyond our skies and how significant an impact it might be. Actually, reminds me of a Who episode about the original of the primal fear of the dark.” Perhaps it was a nudge, a reminder that not all of the dangers that everyone should be focused on are the terrestrial ones, and the fact that no matter how hard we try to protect themselves the danger will find its way to them.
As enlightening a conversation this was that they were having he did need to get back on point despite the fact it was all related.
Alan did not think he was ready. Were they ever ready? When he spoke of Kori it seemed that he had gathered more information than Kori was willing to share. “She told me enough to pull at the heart strings, while keeping me at bay. There were tears, but at the moment I am unconcerned with tears. I prefer facts and she kept then held close to her chest,” he said honestly.
“I let it play to see how far it would go. If I press her too hard then she runs making this, more difficult than I desire it to be. I don’t know who wants her. I am inclined to believe that she was given away to the Daemonites.” Civil War.
“I was told her parents were killed. Her planet conquered, and her sister was placed upon the throne. An armistice of some kind was brokered, and she was taken as hostage to keep Tamaran under control.” Arthur’s very tone said that he found it to be an unraveling story.
“After the events at the Mariposa I had her repeat her tale once more to offer the opportunity for truth, but I received more of the same and claim of ignorance.” If he was upset, it did not show. It was merely an administrator reciting what had been shared.
“However, I had thoughts and it appears there are elements of what you have shared that seem to craft portions of a picture I had sketched for myself. I found it very odd that a dying race would be capable of so much destruction. That they were searching for ways to extend their lives, yet she was the only one from her planet selected for their experiments. They had the planet where they wanted yet they pulled back. Her sister rises to the throne. Something didn’t feel quite right about it all.” Then there were the tears so best to take a step back and engage another Arthur thought. Let her take comfort in her story being intact.
“What the larger story was I was not sure, but I would be remiss in my duties if I took everything she said in face value, but…” A promise was a promise and Arthur had to believe since he made that promise.
“I cannot say whether or not your student is ready. Only he can decide that, but if what I have been told is to hold true. He would not possess that which he does if he were not capable, and if I may go a bit further. He had the sense enough to seek you out when your name was shared with him. He went out on a limb. He placed his trust not only in you, but the person who gave him your name. He saw the good in others. The world has gained a good amount of fear just in the past several days. I think it is only fair that an equal amount of hope is offered.”
ALAN: “Careful, if you keep this up I’m going to think you’re actually paying attention.”
That may sound like a joke, but it is only a half-truth. There is always a sort of duality to a discussion with Alan Scott, but in this particular instance it is even more pronounced then normal. A thin smile speaks to his hospitality, but the way he keeps being drawn to that cup says he isn’t all there in the room with Dr. Light. At least not when discussing the potential of Kyle Raynor being given this assignment. There seems to be more than one discussion going on about that and Arthur is only involved in half of it.
He makes a good argument. Hope. Oddly it is Alan that dislikes it most. Is it correct? Maybe, but the damning part is that it doesn’t matter. The circumstances around all of this are questionable. “As for your Princess’ story, did she ask you about the Lanterns? Did she mention the lack of their presence when all of this happened?”
“My power is connected to them. The same, but apart from it. A sort of symbiotic bond between what they call their central battery and what powers me. If a Lantern had been in the vicinity of the conflict, that information would be in the battery. Which means I would be able to find out. It isn’t. Which means that whatever Lantern was assigned to Tamaran, was pulled away.”
“For that reason alone, Arthur, I’m forced to agree with you. Bring this Princess here. We’ll introduce her to the new Lantern and let events run their course from there.”
ARTHUR: Arthur offered a hint of a smile and actually took of the drink that had been provided. “I listen to the important parts. The rest of white noise.” It was good nature teasing, but given all that has occurred recently he needed a bit of humor in his life. He was capable of enjoying moments like these no matter what people tended to believe.
The moment came and went and the smile faded away as certain questions were asked and Alan already knew the answer to the question before he asked Arthur suspected. He had read enough to know that there were reasons for the type of conversations one typically engaged in when meeting with Alan, but this was the first time it felt so front and center so to speak.
“None. Given the story I was provided I wondered why she did not return home.” That quite out of place. She escaped she should be able to return home, but still no information that explained one way or another beyond the horrible things the captors had done.
“Then that is what I shall do.” This turned out to be far more agreeable than he expected, but he was grateful on one hand. The other, well the other was being smothered by metaphorical pillow that Alan had dropped onto its face.
“I shall have here within the day if not sooner. I have one more bit of business to take care off before I depart.”
by Marc | Jul 23, 2018 | Chronicles
Synopsis: Dr. Light arrives in Metropolis to meet with Koriand’r for a debriefing regarding her encounter with Lobo.
LIGHT: Arthur Light was not where he wanted to be. He was not in his lab running the experiment that he spent weeks preparing for, nor was he sitting outside somewhere enjoying the rather agreeable weather that had descended into the area. Instead he was in the kitchen…toiling. Toiling over a few things as he attempted to compose his next masterpiece.
Lunch.
It was the most that he could do with the things that he had brought with him. He glanced out the window and could see the nearby waterfront in the distance and further the LexCorp tower dominating the New Troy skyline, but rather than meet there Arthur selected a different location. Far from being off the beaten path it was far from where he normally was when he was in the area. He was in a brownstone that had been recently restored the last five years. It still had its charmed, but it was all a part of a project in the Old City to restore several brownstones and other select buildings in the air.
It was well furnished and well stocked, but the food that Arthur worked with were items that he brought with him. He had stopped at a local farmer’s market to gather the items he wanted. He was going to be here for several days it seemed as there were a pair of debriefings that needed to occur before he could resume his normal activities.
Events had occurred the necessitated his arrival into fair Metropolis. Sadly, he wasn’t here to take M’gann, Conner and Raven out to dinner. He was here for a debriefing. Though he could have purchased something to eat he rather do something with his hands.
There were multiple events unfolding around them. Conner and M’gann were in Kahndaq along with Fairchild. M’gann made a brief appearance to Gotham to assist with the bit of business that occurred there. It reminded Arthur of the potential growing problem they could face. Losing Jones was indeed a blow. He could have been deployed in this situation to provide similar clean up assistance as M’gann, but there was no use crying over spilt milk over that no matter how hard they attempt to locate him. It was not Arthur’s concern.
No his concern should be arriving shortly to the neighborhood. It was true they were surrounded by families and local businesses in the area, but that was the idea. There were some areas of safety that were isolated and some that were right in the middle of things. Arthur opted to this after Conner made it clear that Koriand’r would not be allowed into his penthouse given what happened in Gotham. That bit of business was most concerning.
The amount of destruction that occurred was troubling. Though the public was unaware of the true events those that were knew this could hurt the status quo if this was not handled immediately. Light knew his part in this. He knew that something could have happened, but this? This brought back memories of a world that most believed was behind them.
Still he was looking forward to the debriefing. He was sure that Koriand’r would fill in the details. Regrettably, a cost benefit analysis was already in progress. In all things, Arthur had to put Earth first.
KORIAND’R: After some tweaking and reworking she had gotten the image device back online. It had taken a beating in the short and brief battle. The last thing she had wanted to do was make even of a worse impression with Nowhere by also breaking their expensive devices. It provided a little cover, a little anonymity on the travels to the meeting spot. Her report was lacking some details. She deemed it unnecessary for Nowhere to have a grip of information beyond what she had already provided.
She was concerned they would dig too deep, that they would get themselves in over their head. Even with all of the people and resources they had, it didn’t seem like a safe idea. She also felt like a lot of this was her problem, her burden. She had burdened them enough by begging for sanctuary, by insisting that she could be a model citizen if she were permitted to roam freely. Some of the damage that was created was her fault, she was responsible for it, even if she wasn’t responsible for the circumstances. She hadn’t anticipated that a hunter would have come this far after her. Maybe she had underestimated the weight of her worth to her enemies, even dead.
She had been chewing on her bottom lip as she approached the door. Her green eyes occasionally darting around. No explosions, no shots fired, nothing that would disturb the peace around the area. At least, yet.
She was quiet when she arrived, nervous. Bruises had healed but the pain of regret was still there. She had hours to think over the whole situation. There were things she should have done differently. There were actions she could have taken to minimize the damage and potential loss of life.
Even stepping out from the protection of M’Gann’s home was a risk. This put her out in the open and she had been easily found, disguise or not.
“Dr. Light…I’m sorry I took so long. I was attempting to avoid more populated areas that would be at risk. I am sure you found my report insufficient.”
There was probably a lot he wasn’t happy with and the princess from Tamaran could only guess at them.
LIGHT: The problem with their guest is that he had disappeared, but disappearing did not automatically mean that he had left, and even if he had left it did not mean that he would not return. The damage had been done. The entire situation needed to be re-evaluated. However, when Kori stepped into the brownstone she would not find Light fuming, he wasn’t even pacing. He was finishing what he had started doing. He finished making lunch.
“Hello, Koriand’r. Fine day we’re having wouldn’t you say. If you wouldn’t mind could you retrieve the medium bowl with the foil covering,” he asked while he took the bowl he had in his hand which was filled with dazzling and brilliant colors. He had made a home made fruit salad. He thought something refreshing would be nice. Inside the refrigerator was a shrimp and crab meat pasta salad. He went with something the leaned a bit Italian mostly because of the seasoning and dressing.
He set the bowl down in the next room on the table before returning to retrieve, plates and utensils and once again for glasses and a carafe of ie water. Setting it down on the table he looked around deciding that everything looked well enough. Walking over towards one of the chairs he pulled it out for Kori with warm smile.
“The care you took is appreciated. I’m sure you did your best.” When she took her seat he moved to retrieve a plate. “Which would you like pasta salad, fruit salad or both,” he asked.
“Your report? Oh, I haven’t read it yet. I thought it best to get the unabridged version from you directly.”
KORIAND’R: The mood she encountered was not one she had expected but she diligently followed orders, fetching the bowl. Was this lunch? Some kind of formal lunch meeting? She was confused, an auburn brow raising as she followed him into the room and finally got a good look at the dishes. Food on this planet was amazing, though anything was better than the protein packed gruel she had eaten for years while she was in the care of her captors.
“Oh…everything, please,” a hint of excitement escaped her lips but she quickly quieted herself.
She didn’t speak again until she was seated. Was this a trap? Was she in trouble? Maybe they’re going to drug her and lock her away. That would be dangerous too. They shouldn’t do that.
“The man that found me is a bounty hunter. I’ve somehow managed to gain a considerable price for my head back where I come from. He would not say who or why. He knew Tamaranian. He is not Tamaranian though. I suppose…maybe it would be easier if you asked me the questions. I am not sure I have a solution for this without causing more harm to this planet and its people.”
LIGHT: Light went to work gathering up some of the pasta salad and placing it into into the shallow dish. He retrieved a bowl to add some of the fruit salad to it. Looking over at her he offered a smile that gave away nothing but the warm that it was offered with. He moved around to set the items down before pouring a glass of water into one of the classes.
He poured another and proceeded to get some food for himself listening to each of the words she chose to share with him. “You are a princess. They usual fetch a nice price for someone that wants to be reunited with them. However, this seemed less like a reunion. There are a ways to subdue your target. Yes, you put up considerable resistance, but was he dispatched to retrieve or was this a kill order, Kori?”
He glanced over at her considering what he said. “I take it he doesn’t posses your ability to acquire languages as swiftly as you do? Then again how much do we know about this individual? How much do we know about anyone?” Only what their willing to share.
KORIAND’R: “It was a kill order. He may have been intrigued or distracted. He had many opportunities to follow the order through if he had really wanted to.”
She had a difficult time attempting to figure out the man’s motives. The times their skin had come into contact she had gotten quite a mess of mixed messages. He was persuadable though, but it may only go as far as extending her life just a little bit longer before he finished the job. She had already run several possible scenarios through her thoughts in the time between the attack and this meeting. Most did not end well and she had witnessed how difficult it may be to kill him with her own eyes.
“He said something about Czarnia…”
She paused for the moment while she was trying to collect her memories. She had not yet finished her full education when she was taken from Tamaran. She did have quite a bit of knowledge for diplomatic reasons but the tale of that planet was more of a scary story that was told to children to frighten them. Perhaps it was told to instill appreciation for what they had and how well they had it.
While she rolled through her thoughts she began poking at the food, taking a few small bites. There were times she was so voraciously hungry she could just shovel it all into her mouth but she was attempting to be polite and restrain herself.
“…which is impossible because that planet’s people have been wiped out. He kept referring to himself as ‘The Main Man’. I do not understand this title. There was some mention of clones. Not much of this makes sense to me. My people did not deal with Bounty Hunters so I am woefully unequipped with the education to assist with this. I only worry that there will be more. It was no small offering for my head, many may be persuaded by greed to collect.”
LIGHT: “Where there’s one kill order there may be another,” he said in a matter of fact tone. She had to be thinking if she wasn’t then she should. “I don’t believe our Czarnian friend has given up on his job. Additionally it seems that either has or has been given the means to find you. Anything is easy to locate when you know what you are looking for. There are no other Tamaranian’s on Earth, so you stand out from all other beings on the planet given your unique status.”
Pressing his fork into his food he Light glanced over at Kori waiting to see what she would say. “I deal with the impossible daily so I tend to believe anything is possible. It doesn’t matter if he is authentic or not the fact of the matter is that you are in his sights and no matter his behavior it sounds like we have a problem. A problem that we knew would make itself known one way or another. You escaped your captors. Perhaps you are far more valuable than you realize or perhaps there is some information that is missing.” Information that has yet to be disclosed.
“Let me ask you something, Kori.” He took another bite of his food before washing it down with some water.
“The experiments that were performed on you. What do you think they were for?” He looked over at Kori waiting for her answer. She herself told him that the Daem were horrible individuals. They took specimens to test their endurance and their skills as warriors. Those that survived then went through genetic modification. To what end? Curiosity? Perhaps, but surely it was not the end of it. There were other things to consider.
KORIAND’R: Kori was working a bit of logic while Dr. Light talked. If she kept her mouth full, she wouldn’t need to answer anything too quickly. She kept a steady pace on the meal in front of her. She had so few vices and indulging in Earth food had been one of the more enjoyable ones during her stay here.
She hadn’t gotten to those details before, she knew the answers but didn’t want to alarm the organization with a threat that was far off in space and well away from this planet.
She gulped down her mouth full of food before speaking, “The Daem…are dying. They are sick or they are weak. Each new generation weaker than the last. Good host bodies are difficult to find, those durable enough to survive the toll that it takes as they are psionically bonded.”
She frowned, “Or…attempting to breed in other species into the bloodline may produce stronger heirs. There are different school of thought on the solution to this, I may have only overheard some of them and may be recalling details inaccurately. Genetic manipulation is one of those angles. Testing those subjects against others and experiments ensures only the strongest will make it to the next levels. I did not make it that far. I don’t think I would be here right now if I did. I did retain some of the abilities, a result of the experiments. When I touch someone I can also feel what they feel and sometimes even see flashes of things. That man was not lying.”
She had decided she liked the red fruits the best at that moment, taking another bite before continuing on.
“He will come back, he will follow through with his bounty if he is able. He will also destroy anything in his path to complete it. Hiding me will only bring harm to those around me. Damien could have been in that room with me and he could have been dead. He could have a lock on me right at this very moment. This is not an acceptable risk to this planet, I am taking this very personally and I feel responsible for the damage done already.”
LIGHT: Light had all day, all night and the next. He would take all the time he needed to acquire the information that he was after. He was quite concerned about what it meant for the planet. If the “Main Man” took Damien’s head in exchange it would be a done deal. As much as he wanted to smile about the bit of information that was shared without even prompting the good doctor would, but instead he stayed on task. This wasn’t the time for him to lose focus instead he considered everything she said as he continued with the cost benefit analysis.
“They’re dying.” Isn’t that always how it is he thought. “Interesting.” He filed that away as something that could be utilized, but it also brought to mind reasons.
“So, tell me if I’m wrong in my statements or assumptions. The Czarnian was sent to kill you. There was no need to retrieve you. Only kill? Did he say that the Daem hired him or he chose not to disclose who his client was?” There were things that he wanted to be certain about. “I ask, because this could the Daem cleaning up their mess. Of course it makes a much larger mess given what’s occurred. Should it matter to them? A race that has conquered others? I’m not sure. If anything if they are responsible for his appearance here then it means that they don’t care what happens as long as is the job is done, but I can’t help but be perplexed by their reasoning. Who would they fear that they would send someone else to act on their behalf. Even more someone who is all about the bullhorn.”
Pressing his fork into his food once again he glanced over at Koriand’r tilting his head to the side. “Do you think the Daem are responsible for his presence here? Do you think it’s possible that they may come here themselves? There are individuals here that could prove enticing to them. M’gann. Conner. Wonder Woman. My others that they may want to take for their testing and genetic modifications. Many others. The Czarnian could share this information with them if he’s an enterprising individual.” That was a source of concern.
KORIAND’R: “I attempted to ask but he did not reveal who took out the contract. If my escape nulled the arrangement they had made with my planet…and that thought shakes me to my core. If it did, it could have been taken on by the monarchy. If it was the Daem, I’m unsure of what their motivations are. It could have been someone else as well, an escaped royal. My death would ultimately secure the throne in the event that something happened to my sister. There are many reasons and many possibilities. It’s larger than a simple cleaning up, there are many political ramifications as well.”
It was not something she liked to put her mind to a lot. She preferred not to think of home, to think of what it was like and what it could have been like. Every time she did, it made her heart ache. She had no place there anymore. She didn’t really feel like she had a place anywhere right now.
“If the Daem came here….you’re thinking too narrowly. My friends would not be targets. The entire planet would be one. I doubt the Hunter would share unless they offered him something in return. His greed is assured, as well as his other appetites.”
LIGHT: “Most of the individuals on our planet are quite unremarkable for the type of characteristics that the Daem are looking for. Honestly if they’re looking for someone who’s durable I would think they would turn their eye to our unwelcomed guest before they would look any normal human, but that aside.” Because there is something to what she said. They would come for the entire planet. The entire planet was never far from Light’s thoughts.
“From what you’ve said the others would be the resources to be mined. Most of the other beings on this planet would be in the way. Something of no consequence so, it makes me wonder why give up Tamaran? From what I gather you were able to survive the endurance tests. You were able to survive contests with other warriors. Would these not be common traits among all of your people? Yet a cease fire was negotiated, and you were given away not as a hostage, but a test subject? Surely, they could have taken more. They held all the cards unless your sister mombilized heavy resistance.”
KORIAND’R: “Resources. Tamaran is rich in other resources. Maintaining the planet in a peaceful state means that it is able to produce more resources for trade. Not all of my people are trained as warriors. Most are not. My sister is older than me, more mature and trained and sadly not quite capable of all of the abilities I have. Taking me as hostage ensured the obedience of my sister. I do not see the interchangeability between the two terms. They were free to do with me as they wished, as long as they did not kill me.”
She took a heavy breath before continuing, “My people could barely fight back. So many died. Perhaps the attacks revealed the weakness of the planet, it did not make the planet useless to them though.”
LIGHT: “Wouldn’t the death of your people ensure their obedience? Your sister. The older sister. The more mature sister. The one who perhaps being groomed to rule? When you’re parents were killed why did they stop there?” There was something there that did not track with Light. It seemed that the Daem had the advantage one not press it and do everything that they wanted. Perhaps they didn’t have the numbers.
“They were the superior force and you said it yourself. That my view was far to narrow. That the planet would be in jeopardy. Not just the individuals I named and ones like them. Trade and resources. Were they using your resources for trade? Are they still using your resources for trade?” He wanted to get a little more.
“Forgive me if this makes you uncomfortable Kori, but you have to understand. I need to know how much danger my world is in. I need to know what comes next. Invasion? And for you? Considering everything you escape. You broke the contract that existed between your sister and the the Daem? What does that mean for Tamaran? Will they return and finish what they started? They’re hostage has escaped. ” There was another important question that should be asked, but instead Light let that sink in for a moment.
“Two planets now hang in the balance. Should the Czarnian fail what next? Who will be sent to collect on your bounty? Tamaran is no longer safe or is it a case of, “You lost her. We did nothing wrong. It’s all on you?” I doubt the Daem will accept those terms.”
KORIAND’R: “I…I do not know. I have not been in contact with my people in almost an Earth decade…”
Dr. Light just had to put her own dark thoughts into reality by speaking them. Those were all possibilities she had considered but she had been so disconnected from Tamaran and the whole situation that she wasn’t really aware of what was going on beyond this planet. She did not know the motivations of The Daem, their reasoning for making that arrangement.
She carefully set the fork down against the plate before the force of strength in her hand bent it into an unusable state. She was upset, she was visibly suffering from it now and she was attempting to remain calm and collected.
“I can go with him. It would save billions if not maybe more….”
It seemed the most reasonable thing to do. Fighting would cause more damage and raise the risks. It would be pointless to keep going on with the resistance.
“Or…I can attempt to negotiate. I don’t know anymore. I don’t know what to do. All of this feels like it was my fault and it’s so terribly unfair. I was a child but I am no longer one now and I should be more responsible.”
The hot tears still bit at her cheeks, with a heavy sniff she attempted to wipe them away and pretend like her eyes didn’t start leaking on her from the intense emotion she was feeling.
“The Hunter is a considerable foe, redirected, he may be a powerful ally.”
LIGHT: It was not the tears that moved Light. Everyone cries. They always cry. There are always years, but he had to look beyond the tears to the reality that something that could be quite inevitable had been accelerated by Kori’s presence on the planet not to mention his decision not to have her taken in and handled through normal channels. There was no time for him to begin second guessing himself, but there was one thing certain this could not be washed away with tears or hope filled promises.
“Well, as someone once told me you can’t put the toothpaste back in the tube. What’d done is done. Negotiation with the “Main Man” involves him completing the contract or probably asking for something we are not willing to provide. At most it would only delay what is now a certainty.” He pressed his fork into his food. “Everything we did has repercussions. You made a decision. I made a decision and now those decisions will have to be dealt with.” Skepticism was Arthur’s bread and butter and while he knew how he would handle the inquiry and there was another individual he needed to speak with there was still information that he needed to acquire.
“Going with him guarantees nothing. It may serve to make matters worse. There are too many unknowns and I do not care for unknowns. Especially when it comes to the safety of people under my care. Whether it is the Daem their bounty hunter or another we are once again on the radar and this will need to be dealt with.” Either through official channels or unofficial channels. There is some concern as to why she would not seek to reunite with her people was a cause for concern, but Arthur would not push the matter.
There were things that she was either unwilling to share. Unwilling to consider or a bit of both and though he could push he may not achieve his desired goals instead he pressed his fork into his fruit before placing it into his mouth. Enjoying the flavor he closed his eyes considering all that has been shared.
“It’s quite difficult, because we don’t know how you were tracked. Perhaps there is something that can be crafted to mask your life signs. Then again depending on what Daem have done to you something could be in your blood. I’m afraid we will have to have you examined Kori, thoroughly to determine exactly what sets you apart.” Devoting resources to something that could be easily rectified as handing her over. That was probably going to cause a bit of trouble.
Light wondered M’gann was able to acquire any information from the assailant. “I want you to remain at M’ganns. I will need to decide how I want to proceed. I caution you not to do anything rash. All the things I said had to be said, because I wanted us to be clear about the situation, Kori. I wanted us to know what the stakes were. I know this is not an idea situation, but it’ s not ideal for anyone involved.” Again Earth comes first and this is definitely under the purview of another there for Light will need call in a favor.
“Agreed?”
KORIAND’R: “Examined?”
Her eyes grew large, as if the unpleasant memories of other examinations had flooded her mind. At least it had stopped the tears but it had ignited something else instead.
“…If you want blood, I can give you blood. Please, I could not handle much more. I don’t care how many stickers and lollipops there are!”
There were few things that she reacted to in panic. Even the situation she was facing was something she could deal with, or at least attempt to deal with head-on. A visit to the Doctor? An examination? She wanted to flee at mere mention of it.
LIGHT: “Yes, but…” He considered it. “If and I do mean if I am able to get a former….” He considered it for a moment. “There’s a certain individual that may be able to assist us without there having to be anything invasive done.” He had to consider it. “It’s possible, but I have to see we’re on speaking terms. It depends.”
On the time of day. If Mercury is in retrograde. Among other items. “Like I said. Try not to do anything rash. I will reach out to him and we will take it from there.” If Alan’s agreeable then it will involve going into Gotham. That can easily be addressed by anyone that asks. Alan’s had impromptu visits all the time. Why should this be any different?
