Hello again! I hadn't intended to update any time soon, but with the kind reviews I received recently, I decided it was enough to make me want to give it a shot. I'm not one to demand reviews, but know that it helps! Thanks for the reviews~
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Chapter 8
The Message
"What an awful thing to happen! Ah just can't believe it!" Claudia shrieked with both hands on her cheeks.
In the night, to their surprise, Gallows and Clive had stumbled into Little Twister where the Honey of Roses Saloon agreed to board them. Morning came oddly early, but not to Gallows' acknowledgment seeing as he slept well into the day anyhow. The clock read seven o'clock at midday when the owner Angela and her barmaid Claudia, specifically the former, confronted them on barging in at such a late hour. They hadn't met since the incident at the Unclean Mask with Melody Vilente; naturally, Gallows' was elated.
"Well, I can't say I'm surprised," Angela said, shaking her head, "Odd things have been turning up around here as well, like the day and the night…"
Something caught her attention as the blistering light from the windows began to fade to a sleepy blue. She drifted towards the window and touched the curtain, "But that doesn't come close to this," She drew open the curtain and Claudia put her hands to her cheeks again, distraught.
The sky was thick with gray and gloomy clouds. They grumbled as if angry, rolling through the sky like a fiend. Then, starting as a few taps on the window the sky split and rain fell like a fist to the ground. The downpour was so thick that it resembled a thick brick wall; dismal and impregnable. Angela drew the curtains closed again and said, "I can say I've only seen rain a few times in my life, but never like this. And it's been this way for days"
Even Clive was speechless, puzzled and mystified by the ordeal.
"Damn…" Gallows murmured, setting the empty bottle on the table, yearning to just smash it.
"I'm guessing ya'll have seen a lot more than we have," Angela deduced as she leaned against the wall next to the window, listening to the pounding rain against the building, "I could have guessed, my business is less then booming. Our last tenant was here days ago; didn't stay long enough to pay me anything worth the work. Not that I mind; he was a sketchy fellow, he was"
Claudia nodded in agreement just a Clive woke from a helpless stupor. He stood, "Pardon me, but would you mind describing this person?"
Angela shrugged and replied, "Young I suppose; a red head with green eyes I think. He didn't have much of anything with him. He wouldn't tell, but he sure was in a hurry to get somewhere"
"He watched me a lot," Claudia said, shivering as if she was in the presence of something nasty, "Ah'm glad he's gone"
"I don't like him," Gallows said simply, frowning.
"That's him"
"Wha?" Gallows inquired.
"You didn't meet him, but that's the gentleman who asked me if we'd investigate Gemstone Cave, I'm almost certain"
"Meh, you sound like Virginia, I say we keep his sorry money. It's his fault we're in this mess anyway"
"It's not about Gella anymore; I'd like to find him. I wager he knows something about what's happening around here, you agree?"
Gallows sighed, leaning back so his chair was on too legs, "Yeah, yeah, I forgot that's what we're after"
"You mean…" Angela seemed distraught, "Ya'll are looking for that man? Hmm…"
Tapping her chin, something she seemed to do when troubled, she glanced at Claudia, who pursed her lips. Angela sighed and treaded towards the bar and reached behind the glossy counter and withdrew a leathery piece of folded parchment, "Look, we tried to figure out what this was supposed to mean, but I guess ya can't expect much from two brainless broads, huh?" She gave a dry laugh, "He said if any 'interesting folks' come by to give this to them, then he just left"
She handed the parchment to Clive, who slowly unfolded it and read aloud:
'this hapless eternal endeavor is granted hollow tidings his Observatory nefariously eluded'
It was written in careful strokes, but it left them stumped, even Clive.
"Weird," Gallows pointed out, taking the parchment when Clive offered it and read it again to itself.
"Sounds like some poetry mumbo-jumbo, if ya ask me," Angela remarked, crossing her arms and peering out the window again where the rain was slowly dying down.
"Is this supposed to be some kind of message?" Gallows asked to no one in particular tossing it across the table to Clive again, "What do ya think?"
Clive studied it again, "I do think it's a message, but…"
In retrospective, there were several aspects that puzzled him. There was the very meaning of the expression, the choice of words, grammar, and most importantly, why someone would leave this kind of message in the first place. There wasn't a doubt in Clive's opinion that this message was meant for them. The character who was leading them in this wild-goose chase was becoming more suspicious with each strange occurrence and this was the strangest. It was unnerving, frustrating.
Shaking his head, Clive pocketed the message as he played it in his mind again.
"So?"
"I'm not sure," Clive replied, "We can agree this has everything to do with what's happening, let's call it a 'clue', but I think we need to find Virginia and Jet before anything else"
"Agreed…So?" Gallows let the chair onto all fours again, "The fact that we got to Little Rock from where we were is enough to stop us. How are we supposed to find 'em?"
"So ya'll are looking for someone?" Angela asked before indicating the bar, "There's a phone, service isn't great as you can guess, but its worth a shot"
That was a start, calling Catherine would be helpful. Clive nodded in thanks and approached the phone which was sitting on a low shelf by the bar. It was an old candlestick type with a long cord attaching the speaker to the microphone. Taking the speaker, he inserted the numbers into the rotary dial.
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Laxisland, by nature, was dark and ominous due to the high walls and medieval feel. But it seemed the sky was despondent as well, perhaps even the world. Virginia had never been fond of this town's gloomy setting. She was standing just outside the Arm Smith shop where her pistol was being examined. The rough fall she had down the cliff a few days ago must have damaged the ARM. Waiting, she felt empty without it; it was a weapon, but it had sentimental value as well.
From where she stood, she could see the two red flags at the top of the posts near the entrance swaying hard in the wind. The gusts were strong, enough to raise clouds of dust from the beaten ground into her face. Standing outside, you wouldn't have been able to tell the electricity in the town was down. There were no powered lights outside, instead torches and lanterns were placed sparsely here and there. Now that she thought about it, Laxisland was more like a fortress than a town. In fact, it might have faced adversity at one time.
The tavern had a telephone, but without power, it was useless of course. For now they were stuck, leaving and venturing into a changing wasteland was asking for trouble; who knows how far the next town is. When she had awoken, the woman at the bar said it was half past eight though it was it seemed to be half past midday instead.
Jet had also been missing when she woke and she hoped he simply went searching for information. Virginia was certain he wouldn't abandon her, but she couldn't help but feel uneasy.
Amidst her daze she noticed a familiar face enter the gate; a man with a proverbial green cap with two bird feathers tucked in the crease.
"Roykman!" This couldn't have been a better meeting. Virginia hurried towards him where he greeted her with a smile, seeming a bit drained underneath the weight of his merchandise.
"Roykman and Co. at your service," He replied politely, "How can I help you?"
"Oh," She was so relieved, she had forgotten what exactly for, "I know you must travel far, you must have noticed"
Virginia told him about the tremendous chasm she and Jet had been trapped in along with the many earthquakes occurring and it didn't take him long to respond.
"Oh, of course. I passed it on my way here from Claiborne. You know what they're calling it over there? Capers' Gorge"
Fitting name, Virginia thought, news traveled fast.
"Claiborne?"
"Yup, it's only a mile from the gorge, but in the opposite direction," He glanced around, surprised, "Weird, this is Laxisland, huh?"
Virginia nodded, confused but not surprised. She then asked him if he had seen Clive or Gallows and he told her he hadn't seen anyone who looked like them, but he'd keep an eye out.
"Ah, sure there's some weird things happening, don't let it get you down," Roykman said, trying to be reassuring, "The world's a crazy place"
Virginia thanked him, but his whimsical outlook didn't rub off on her.
"Hey, how about a drink," He indicated the tavern with thoughtful smile, though unaware of her age, "Maybe that'll cheer you up?"
Before she could reply, a familiar voice answered for her, "No, thanks"
Half-turning, Virginia was surprised to find Jet. He was giving a sideways glance with tenacious eyes and furrowed brows. He must have noticed the unappreciative scowl on her face because he added, "We're about to leave"
"No problem, then I bid you farewell," Roykman replied with a smile and a tip of his hat. Then, he turned and started towards the tavern, before stopping suddenly, "Oh, and if I come across your friends, I'll be sure to tell them I saw you"
Virginia thanked him and waved slowly goodbye, then turning to face Jet who seemed unimpressed.
"It's good to see you're as pessimistic as usual," She stated sarcastically, "You could have left me a note or something"
"A note?" Jet seemed amused, making her feel silly, "I went looking for someone who knew what was going on, what did you think?"
"Oh…" She replied dolefully, "And?"
"Nothing, of course. Like I said, you couldn't drag these people from this town"
Virginia knew he was being quaint, but it was too blunt for her taste. And he was probably right, they knew only this as their world, not the world a drifter would understand.
"I see…So why did you say we were leaving?" She asked, evidently against that idea, "Roykman said if he saw Clive and Gallows he'd tell them where we were, why leave?"
"What, you wanna sit around here?" He effectively argued with a furrowed brow; something he did often and if it wasn't naturally aggravating, it would have been attractive. Finding it to be a little of both, Virginia tore her eyes away and stared at a lantern which struggled in the wind. She didn't want to stay and Roykman did say Claiborne was just beyond the gorge. But what if something happened since then? No, it wasn't worth the trouble.
"Yes, I guess I do," She replied finally, without looking. She expected him to press further into a squabble, but to her surprise he didn't bother. He simply shrugged and brushed passed her.
Later, when the sky drew dark, Virginia found herself standing in same room at the inn. It was dark still, but a barmaid offered her a candle, but it didn't seem to help to downcast mood of the cramped space. Again tonight, she found herself thinking of her tight knit family in Boot Hill. Knowing they had each other eased her worrying heart, but not enough.
She was sitting on the bed now with her repaired ARM in her hands. She hoped it worked well; it was her luck and a bittersweet memory. She drew her fingers across the many scrapes it had earned over the years, she was proud of those weathering marks. She remembered using it when she was young and marveling at the new, clean metal. She liked it better this way; she hoped it was just the ARM.
The creaking of the door stirred her from her thoughts.
Regarding her with a long stare and like before his eyes glowed dimly in the shadows as he crossed the room to set his ARM on the table next to the candle. Watching him tog at his ravaged scarves, Virginia rubbed her fingertips over the rough metal of the pistol. He was truly something great, even if he didn't think so. He had protected her more than once, though it made her feel guilty.
She found herself wondering about why he was created in the first place and the man trying to replace something irreplaceable; a son he never got to meet. Elliot Enduro wanted a son stronger than any other, to endure even the death of the world, just so he wouldn't feel the pain of losing him again. To Virginia, it was unfair that Jet had to go on living through another's identity, even if no one knew. But he knew. She had made a promise to him once, to find his memories, but realized some stones are best left unturned when the harsh truth came crashing down on her and even worse, on him. All for something he had never wanted.
Jet must have felt her watching because he glanced at her momentarily, with uncertainty, and then turned away all together to face the stony wall. He didn't snap at her like she would have expected. Evidently, something was weighing heavy on his mind. He had been acting different, consciously and apparently unconsciously, as she recalled that little encounter in Caper's Gorge, as it was called. Which got her to wondering…
She was startled from her dubious reflecting when he brushed passed her to lay down on the adjacent bed with a tiresome sigh.
"I was thinking," She started, still absently rubbing the old pistol that was so tarnished it didn't shine in the ocher light of the candle, "If the power ever comes back, I thought I'd call Catherine. I'm sure she's spoken to Clive"
"Sounds good," He replied in tedium with his head lowered so Virginia couldn't tell if his eyes were closed of he was just avoiding looking at hers.
Virginia sighed awkwardly, feeling this uneasiness to be redundant, yet unavoidable. She crawled to the farthest side of the bed and swung her feet over the side, to loosen and remove her boots then slip from the stifling lavender jacket. Jet watched her absently until he inwardly reprimanding himself as he laced his fingers behind his head and leaned against the wooden bed post. But she wasn't in his sight, she still invaded his thoughts. His moment of indiscretion had left him searching for solace for the rest of the day, but to no avail. He might as well have crawled back her.
Before he could stop himself, Jet was watching her again as she set a pistol next on a small table near her. Maybe he'd…just stop fighting for a while; it was the only thing that could make him tired.
Virginia turned, drawing her feet onto the bed and shifting backwards to lay her head back onto the headboard. Afar, was the window, suggesting a lovely outline in gentle light from outside. She tipped her back and caught the delicate silhouette of her face; her pointed nose and parted, perfect lips. Her chin dipped into the careful curve of her neck, flowing like music to the rise and fall of her chest. There was a vague suggestion of the bend in her legs, though smothered by the blanketing of her skirts. It was all just a little to perfect for Jet.
Could I?—he thought, watching her angelic form carefully—could I ask for anything more?
He had never let such unforgivable thoughts cross his mind, yet now they came so easily, so loud, he feared he might be saying it to her. And if I did, what would you say? I could see you, put-off, but still wondering with that same unspeakable need that I share. Is that wrong of me…? But have I thought of nothing else, nothing but you? Your body, your mouth, everything you are that I could never be or understand. You. So ready to face a vicious world and ready to suffer the consequences of failure.
I wonder, would you be so confident, so ready, if I reduced you to a body. To fight a battle, not with pistols, but with the passion and fire I know you possess. To be lost in a place no level of sanity or reason could intervene in what is so natural; all for endless search for that fleeting pleasure that is so degrading yet leaves you asking me for it. Demanding it of me.
Virginia sighed, bring him back to this quiet, empty world. Back to reality. She slid beneath the worn sheets, submitting to sleep. But Jet remained, unmoving, watching and only that.
I want to leave, to run; to never touch you. Yet I've tried, failing for the chance to linger in your presence a moment more. I'm tired. Tired of trying.
What have you done to me?
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TBC. PLEASE REVIEW
PLEASE NOTE:: I mentioned this on my profile, that this story might advance to an M rating. So if you notice the fic has disappeared and it's not on your alert list then it's under the M category. I've been considering it for a while, for very many reasons. Just as a heads up, that might happen in the near future. Thanks.