futurology | text, @TARANTO, day after the saloon fire

[Maybe. He can switch metaphorical gears, he's accommodating like that.]

Here I figured being Boss of Blanket Mountain would make you pretty popular.

[And yet she's still sitting at a paltry two bodies, what a shame.]

hahaha that's much better
anyway i'm a discerning boss of blanket mountain, i don't pick up just anyone to be capo

come on seriously stop by for like an hour tops

[It's like being King of the Mountain, only warmer and goofier sounding, probably. After a beat, as if he has to Consider This Seriously—]

Deal. Give me half an hour.

[That is, before he shows up at the doorstep of her slowly-shrinking quilted kingdom—hands in pockets, collar turned up against the desert chill. Hope she's wrapped up her story-bartering by then.]

[ Score. An hour visit is way easier to stretch into proper hanging out, once she's got her foot in the door. And half an hour is certainly enough to have reduced some of Mt Blanket, which leaves Sigma and Ramir's tent set up with most of the remainders draped over its sides to keep in the heat.

Ramir's hanging out outside, wrapped in a blanket as she skims the jewelry network, with Sigma in the tent itself where reasonable, heat-liking people tend to be. She offers a wave as Jason shows himself over. ]

Oh shit, look who made it!

[Put it that way and it almost sounds like you're trying to con him into sleepovers against his will. That's some real shady business, bud. By the time he comes around, Blanket Mountain looks a little more like Blanket Molehill, and the sun's sunk a little lower in the sky. He cants his head back at her and stops a few feet away, hanging outside like the unreasonable, stubborn, cold-weathering people they are.]

Look at you.

[That's some setup she's got. Makes you wonder why she'd bothered fishing after his.]

Settling down already?

Check it out, I'm like a professional hobo. [ She gestures with a nod at the tent back behind her, like there was any question what she meant. ] I even got a heater in there. Solar-powered.

[ She's had a few years to perfect this whole thing, after all. She hops up to her feet and scoops up a blanket that had been folded next to her, tossing it over toward Jason. It's plain red, but cozy and fleecy. ]

You wanna come in? It basically doesn't get any cozier.

[Aw, look at her indulging his #aesthetic, that's true friendship.

He catches the blanket absently, without missing a beat. (The part of him that is prone to balk at being a charity case stirs to life, but it's mitigated by the part of him that she's won over with persistence the past several months. He'd spent long enough on the street to know how to navigate a little homelessness and come out alive—even when he was out of his head and half dead. But knowing how to handle it doesn't really make the elements any softer. Coming from that really teaches you the value of a warm place to crash.)

He gestures with the blanket in a "ladies first" sort of way.]

If I'd known you were living it up over here, maybe I would have come around sooner.

[Probably not, but. You know.]

[ Nice. She does indeed lead the way, ducking into the tent — it's a pretty small affair, big enough to house two people lying down and not much else. The heater is set up in the middle and hard at work making the whole place, as promised, super cozy. ]

Found him!

[ She heads immediately for the tent's original owner, plopping down to sit next to Sigma and looking proud of herself. There might have been betting going on, that she'd be able to make Jason turn up for a visit. ]

Edited 2016-11-21 05:35 (UTC)

[ It'd been impossible not to hear the two voices from inside the tent where he laid curled up in front of the heater much like the cat likewise tucked against his chest, so at least he's had a couple minutes to gear himself up for the disappointment of a couple Qorral dollars lost. ]

[ When the tent flap opens, Sigma sits up a little straighter, unseating Pepper and earning an annoyed chirp and a stretch before she pads around to languish in the body heat he'd left behind instead. ]

No shit? [ He peeks outside before glancing back at her, brow furrowed. ] You gotta get him in here, you know.

[Stop making bets about him, Ramir, he's going to start feeling a little used at this rate. But there's a familiar voice.]

Well, gosh. If I didn't know better I'd think you were happy to see me.

[He's hardly surprised to hear Sigma inside, since it doesn't take an overabundance of deduction to figure that the other half of the aforementioned two-body equation would be Ramir's other half. Still, he stops midway through the entrance to give first the cat and then her owner a raise of his brows. (Letting the cold air in in the process just for the moment, what a gentleman.) As he finally shoulders his way inside—]

Taking in strays?

[ Where there are bucks to be made, bets will be placed about Jason Todd. She makes a face while Jason does his dramatic pause, and can't stop herself from making a c'mere! gesture a few instants into his idle. ]

Oh my god, you're gonna fuckin' -- man, I worked for all the warm air in here, jeez. [ Then he's in, and she's content to make herself a little more comfortable in a lean against Sigma. ] Anyway, that's all this guy, ask him.

[ And when there are bets about handsome young men not being dragged into his tent by his girlfriend, bets will be placed about Jason Todd. Just kidding, he likes the guy enough. Except when he's letting all the cold air in. Sigma bristles, tugging his blanket up a little tighter around his shoulders. ]

Hey, this thing was working. [ He nudges the little space heater with his foot. ] And I was working. You were outside pretending to be cool by freezing your ass off.

[ Accusations of coolness aside, when Ramir settles against him, he throws an arm around her like a big blanket bird taking her under its wing. ]

[ And to Jason, ] She's not a stray! She just... strayed into my room back in Oska. [ So she's a stray. Anyway. ] ... You been keeping busy?

["Handsome young men," you're gonna make him blush, Sigma's meta. Don't worry, he gives the lovebirds as much of a berth as the close quarters reasonably allow while they settle in, shrugging his ALASTAIR-issued duffel off his shoulder so he can sit. This isn't the first time he's been third wheel to this particular party. Or maybe it's fourth, this time, since this does put him right next to the cat—who wastes no time in experimentally sniffing at one of his gloves once it's in reach. (It probably smells like burnt out building and gunpowder or something, gross.)]

Sure. Harder to freeze your ass off that way.

[Only slightly sardonic. In case you missed it, the town's been in a bit of a uproar, and he's just not good at being tentwarming kinds of being busy. Everyone's got their methods.]

[ She's not a stray, she just showed up one day and demands food and regular maintenance. Ramir snorts, but offers no complaints out loud. Pepper knows where she stands in Ramir's esteem. ]

He's been busy being mysterious and vague. We open, friendly people could never understand. [ fuckin prove her wrong, Jason. ] So, what's the verdict? Do we know who dunnit?

[ It's almost an earnest question; she's not even sure Jason would share with the team at large if he did figure out who'd done it. ]

[ What can I say, Jason does stubble well, that's what meta is for. And excuse him, he's had his own problems to mope out, thank you very much. Tentwarming is important and cathartic. The least you could do is get him back up to speed. ]

Yeah, what's up, Sherlock?

[ Once Pepper gets the hint that the gloves aren't the best point of interest, she sets about poking around Jason's duffle bag instead. Discovering it closed, she resigns herself to settling up next to his leg. Even gunpowdery strangers are better than trying to wedge between Ramir and dad. ]

[He is what he is, Ramir, some things u just gotta accept. If nothing else, she's not wrong about what he's been spending his time looking into since the fire. Luckily, even if he's not really the type to run right to the sheriff with his findings—or even involve the crew at large—none of it is anything he has reason to be mum about.

Unfortunately, there's not a lot more to tell. Only mostly to be difficult—]

Too mysterious and vague to go pointing fingers.

[He could bore them with the details, but the bottom line is no real identifying info, if plenty of coincidental suspicions. That said, in the long run it might not be their biggest problem.]

Good money's that the locals won't need much more reason to break out the torches and pitchforks no matter who did the torching.

[Anti-Deemer nervousness is at all all time high. Could be that was the intended result. Could be the arsonist was trying to smoke out the proprietor, or the Crew, or destroy some kind of evidence hidden in the barracks. Either way, what it's done is stir the locals into a fearful and reactionary buzz—and half the crew into an uproar.]

[ God, she almost regrets asking. The whole mystery of it is frustrating, and she's already tired of hearing locals speculate, after just a day. Puzzle solving is so not her style. ]

Great, maybe we can pick someone and get it over with, then.

[ Okay, so she's not totally in favor of stringing up some innocent guy for it... but she'd really appreciate if the rest of the team got on with figuring out this mission so she could enjoy herself in the background.

In the interest of something better to talk about, and with a return of her had-a-bright-idea smile: ] Hey, what's it gonna take to get a story out of you guys? The blanket bribe doesn't work unless you want two, so what else can I offer up?

[ Go figure. But if there's one thing worse than holding back on details, it's throwing around near-baseless accusations willy nilly at innocent people. Frustrating as it is, at least Jason knows when to fold. ]

[ Ramir on the other hand, probably doesn't know folding is a legitimate strategy. Her suggestion gets a groan out of him. ]

You're gonna wring me story-dry, you know that? I think I've exhausted all my good ones...

[ All his good personal ones, anyway. At this rate he's going to have to resort to creepypasta. ]

Jason's probably got loads, though.

[Yeah, somehow picking a scapegoat doesn't seem like the best way to solve their problems, bud. But sometimes you just need to play a longer game. There's nothing to be gained in chasing their tails, either.

Speaking of. He leans back and Pepper resettles herself at his knee, tail flicking.]

I'm a pretty boring guy.

[This is so facetious it hurts. (Ramir knows about his sordid superhero past, and Sigma seemed to at least suspect something of the sort given the gritty comic book reboot jabs. That doesn't mean he has to make it easy.) He's already proven to be real shitty at sharing 99% of the time, she must have seen this coming.]

Haven't you gotten your fill of Days of our Lives already?

[As for her question—give it a minute.]

[ That's probably fair, she has made a lot of storytelling demands of Sigma already. She probably has to give him some time to live through a few more stories first. ]

Alright, fine, Sigma's off the hook. [ That comes with a squeeze around his waist under the blanket; is that a friendly squeeze, or a this time squeeze? Who can ever really be sure? Back to Jason. ]

But you're not. I'm pretty fucking sure I wouldn't be offering up a blank check trade here if I was tired of hearing this shit. What've you got?

[Wow, really milking the boyfriend for all he's worth, huh. Someone works fast. But turnabout is fair play.]

Ladies first.

[There's his terms. You did say blank check. And maybe he's feeling nosy.]

I'll take my turn after you take yours.

[After all that listening she did, surely she's got some talking in her.]

[ Whoa, look at that, Jason actually asking after something. That's too rare to possibly pass up. ]

Yeah, alright.

[ She settles back again as she considers it, mentally pawing through a few options. It's got to be both something good, and something Sigma hasn't heard already. That second part could be tricky. ]

Uh, lessee... [ oh, shit, she's got it. With a bright-idea smile: ] Sigma, I didn't tell you the one where I almost got kidnapped and murdered, right? In France?

[ Being an eccentric but largely benign and average college student save for the one inexplicably wild roller coaster of a day that takes a good couple hours of backstory to get any good tale-telling out of it, Sigma's more than content to let the renegades beg back and forth for the other's expositions. He's not gonna get in the way of Jason spilling more of his mysterious ways, that's for sure. ]

[ When she asks, his brow furrows briefly, flipping back through all the exploits he's had shared with him. ]

No you— [ Wait. Kidnapped and murdered?? It's like they were made for each other. (Except that's very much not a good thing, and it shows on his face and in the way he straightens up a little beside her.) ] Back up. You have Space-France too?

[ Priorities. ]

And you what—?

No, no, this was France-France, not too far outside Toulouse.

[ But this means she hasn't told the story, right? Right. She looks a little delighted about that, always pleased with a fresh audience. She settles back into her storytelling mode, complete with full gesticulations and an even more dramatically expressive tone than usual. ]

Okay, so I'm with this guy I picked up somewhere in Monaco, Vinh Du. Friendly but kinda dumb, big enough to keep anyone from wanting to mess with him-slash-us. We're headed into town on foot, and this van full of super friendly guys pulls over to let us in. They're all hyped for the company, say they're headed home from a trip out of town and they've been driving forever. I figured they were alright.

So when we said we weren't really going anywhere in particular, just into town to find a place to stay for the night, they got all excited and said we should come back with them, grandma would love to meet us. And who the fuck am I to turn down some French grandma, right? So I say sure, bring us along, and they take us to this kinda rundown place at the edge of town. There's definitely no grandma, but there is some pretty good food and drink, so we go along with it. It's a pretty good fucking party, we both get drunk. Then they start saying that now we should go to grandma's place, it's at the center of town and she'll feed us more, it'll be great. I wasn't sure why we didn't go straight there, but I was too drunk to be too worried about it. No, I didn't start getting a little worried until we piled back into the van and I realized this was definitely not the way into town, we were going further out. And, you know, this was before I was strong, so I had to be careful about shit like a van full of guys taking me somewhere other than where they promised.

Anyway, Vihn Du's fucking smashed at this point, and they keep offering us more as we're driving. I make him stop drinking, for whatever that's worth. We're in this wooded area at this point, and I'm like, yeah, this is where we get gutted. So I start talking about having to pee, play it up real hard, start threatening to pee on their upholstery if they don't pull over. They do, and the fucking second the door opens, I grab Vihn Du and fucking book it. It's pitch black by then, so I get off the road with him, and the next thing I know we're falling into this ravine just off the edge of the road. I pull Vihn Du down and make him shut up, wiggle us down under the fallen leaves, and the guys are pissed. But they can't find us. First they try to play it off like a joke, try and get us to pop out and get back in the van, then they start threatening. Say they know we're still here, and if we wanna make this easy on ourselves we gotta just get back in. We don't fucking move, and eventually it sounds like they're giving up. There's some muttering, some slamming car doors, the van drives off. Vihn Du starts to crawl back up again, but I stop him. You know why? [ Here's a pause for dramatic effect, and for her to look pleased with herself. ] Three car doors slam, but there were four guys. We wait it out. And not five minutes later the fucking van pulls up again. One more car door closes, and then they're gone.

[ Not the closest of calls, but probably the only time she's saved her own life by threatening to pee. She still looks pretty pleased with herself, and tacks on as an afterthought: ] Oh, yeah, and the next day we headed into town. The house was empty, but I found the van and trashed it. Just fucking blew it up. I wanted to find it with at least one of them in it, but I guess you can't get everything you want.

Edited (i swear i proofed this) 2016-12-01 06:59 (UTC)

[Wow. Well, if nothing else, she knows how to pony up. It's a little rambling, but he did ask for it. And the relative warm of the tent isn't a bad place to kick back and listen. The more rambling and ridiculous it gets, the less he manages to be surprised by it.]

That's too bad. Sounds like they could have used a more memorable sendoff. [Y'know, because not having a van to do it in only stops dirtbags from abducting dumbasses off the road for so long. Only mostly facetiously—]

Didn't your mother ever tell you not to take candy from strangers?

text, @TARANTO, day after the saloon fire

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I've lost track of what becomes ic info when, I give up

oh god like i know any better

shrug emoji

just gestures vaguely at the plot

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